#having trouble with things he 'should know at his age' like math but being very smart in more niche subjects like aphorisms and cooking????

[somelazyassartist]

I'm. Not going to go into a huge ramble right now because I've done it before and I'll probably do it again later but I am running off of zero sleep and a sonic the hedgehog g fuel so if I talk a lot now it WILL end up incomprehensible but. Just a tiny post since I am thinking about it.

[Edit: it became a huge incomprehensible ramble anyways. It's under the cut if you want to see opinions on the TAZ graphic novel (and sorta the fanon) versions of Taako. But please dear Istus do not think I'm talking about the entire fandom it is just one specific brand of fanon-interpretation I'm talking about, NOT the fandom as a whole please I know enough about Tumblr's reading comprehension to know I should probably put a warning here now that I am talking about a specific trend and not an entire group of people who all have different opinions and also that this is ALSO just my own opinion myself. Oh and also this isn't meant to be like an attack on anyone it's just a personal peeve so if I sound frustrated that's just a Me Thing not me being like mad at anyone in particular Thank you very much genuinely for reading this and understanding]

But like,,,, does it bother anyone else or is it just me that the fandom's perception of Taako has become like. WAY more of a stuck-up ass than he ever really was in the podcast ever since the graphic novels came out? Like don't get me wrong he is a dick but he's never been, like, cruel for the most part.

But like, putting on HtbG (podcast) and then putting him next to the gn version of him is like.... Almost not the same character to me? It's like most people forget podcast Taako started out as the "dumb but sweet joke character" who was constantly slow to pick up on social cues and who the other characters repeatedly would take pity on and make fun of for being "the idiot of the group". And again he is a dick but he's not, like, Seriously a Mean Person!!

Also a decent chunk of the "antagonistic" stuff later on is still a continuation of him not getting social cues like in the beginning (for example, his bit where he threatens Angus for potentially becoming a better wizard than he is, realizing afterwards that his tone didn't come across the way he intended and that Angus interpreted that as being serious, and backtracked to try to clear up that he didn't mean to come off as serious and only meant it as a joke. And also says very explicitly in the same episode that he intends for most of his "mean" behavior throughout the series to come off as joking between equals and he doesn't mean for other people to take it seriously. He just says that.).

And he has, like, unspoken morality about what "harmful" things he does too, especially when it comes to like stealing stuff. If you listen to the podcast he (with very VERY VERY few exceptions) only ever steals from people who are dead- who will no longer be using those items and would be letting them go to waste unmoved- and people who have directly wronged him or his loved ones from his point of view. He actively tries to stop the other two from stealing from innocent people!! There's a whole scene where he establishes he isn't comfortable taking from people who don't deserve it and who need that money!! And then you go into the exact same scene in the graphic novel and.... He's exclaiming that he's going to steal a bunch of shit. Not just any shit, the exact shit he was trying to STOP the others from stealing in the podcast.

Which just doesn't feel like Taako at all!! In fact when he stole and sold Angus' grandfather's silverware and realized Angus really didn't deserve that, he felt guilty about it and tried giving some of it back for him and making up for the rest with quality time and magic lessons! but now when I look at fandom stuff (at least what I've come across) it seems a lot more people lean towards the more kleptomania-fueled dickhead Taako than the much tamer original version, and I have to say I prefer the original more!! He has so much more dimension to me in the podcast- not even because there's more time to flesh him out there than in the gn- but because while he is rude and foul-mouthed at times he has pretty explicit limits and will get upset if people try to force him to cross it! (Also seen with his elevator-related PTSD and him having a very reasonable breakdown when his emotional limits were repeatedly crossed with fair warning from him he'd freak out if forced into going in there..... which got cut from the graphic novels as well because of course it did).

And going forward, with gn Taako being so much more selfish and inhospitable than the original version, I feel like they might cut out his "I'm not a piece of meat" scene in TSG, because if they DO keep it in there's no way to me personally that it'll feel earned in any regard- tell me when in the graphic novels has he pretty much ever shown the genuine humility that the original version carries under his standoffish persona. I don't see it, and I don't think whatever happens between Crystal Kingdom's gn and The Suffering Game's gn will be enough to make that scene feel genuine to me. I really, honestly believe that.

Of course there's some things I do like about the graphic novels and I'm more than willing to give the next ones a fair shot (Crystal Kingdom was a lot better than I expected it to be!) but I really, really, REALLY don't like how the graphic novels (and to a small extent, the fandom) really over-emphasize how mean he is to people when if you listen back to the original in a lot of cases he's much more mellow and kind or is just not picking up on other people's tones/social cues and is being misinterpreted (both by other characters in-fiction and/or certain listeners) because it's established in the text he's bad at picking up that sort of thing

[discoknack]

Thinkin' bout sonicasura's ghost!kafka au

I wanna seee...! A comic or somethinggggg

But I haven't read the OG manga yet, and I'm not familiar with folklore. And my brain won't let me Do Thing. Oh! (brightly) I have a headache! That might be part of it.

Hikari, I dunno what she's like.

Might be funny if Kafka kinda does whatever after accepting her request, especially if there's a culture of irony among spirits leading Hikari to use terminology that Kafka is only familiar with in spooky media.

Being new to the whole haunting business, he casually turns the Shinomiya living quarters upside down. Opening doors and cupboards; dumping occasional books from the shelves; removing knives - and then carefully setting them on the counter; and scratching walls here and there with his ghostly fingernails. He also puts on a show of moaning and groaning, undulating his slightly-demonic figure even though he is not yet visible to the living.

At this moment, Hikari strangles Kafka for being a dumbass. She had just gone for a walk to clear her head and she comes back to this?

Who's gonna investigate the ruckus...

Kikoru would be somewhere around Lucas's age I think. Math... No wait, I forgot he doesn't have a clear canon age either. Darn... People say she's 16-19, so she would be like 10-12 or 13 when Kafka goes ghost.

what else am I thinking...

....

After thinking on it for too long, it seems events probably won't follow canon much at all. He'd squash the Spider Yoju and slurp up its soul with his ghostly powers because protecting Reno is more important and no one else but him is around. Mina wouldn't see her friend seemingly alive again.

This also means Kafka and Reno don't have to go to the hospital. Which means Kafka is alone in his apartment that night.

It might be funny to have Kafka happily consume the Mysterious Yoju, saying, "too easy, hee hee hee!" which really should have clued him in.

Then he screams. I don't know if his thick noodle-y soul is forced through the sliding glass door into the open air, or if he folds over himself within the room, or if he's incorporeal and pushes through the walls into an adjacent apartment while his serpent soul transforms. At least two of the three options may result in a call for the Defence Force from frightened neighbors. Dunno what happens after that with Number Eight.

But it's some funny fate that he be allowed to be warm again, and the Defence Force age limits be raised. If he could just try one more time... It's selfish no doubt, to make Mina see his face again.

I'm also not sure how much trouble he'd be in? They have his corpse preserved, so if Mina saw him, she might have its DNA tested again. If she wanted to double-check, that is.

Could be worth having Kafka consider changing his name or trying for another division first? Seems like delaying the inevitable. hmm.

But I think he would be very motivated by the prospect of the chance. It's his major regret, I'd presume. Onryō are spirits of vengeance, from what I'm reading. So I'm a little confused. Revenge against kaiju? Not just the one that got him?

[silent-dragon]

TWST OC Profile - Luke Watt Leclair

Personal Info

Name: Luke Watt Leclair

Nickname: LuLu

Hero Name: Light Fuse 

Gender: Male

Age: 20

Species: Human

Birthday: 8/17

Zodiac: Leo

Height: 210cm/6ft'8in

Orientation: Bisexual

Eye Color: Amber Yellow(Right is Fake)

Hair Color: Medium Brown(White under UM)

Homeland: Boulevard of Shine (@/fumikomiyasaki homeland)

Family: Lumen Luxa Leclair - Mother

Jean Ericson - Father - Deceased

Lily Pixa Leclair - Little Sister

Twist of Luxo Jr. & Luxo Ball from Pixar

School Info

School: Royal Sword Academy

Dorm: Incremania (@/fumikomiyasaki dorm)

School Year: 3rd

Occupation: Electrician,Business Owner,Trainee Hero

Best Subject: Mathematics

Other Info

Dominant Hand: Right

Dislikes: Darkness,Showing Weakness,People finding out about his eye,Being Uncool,Getting in trouble with mother,Small confined spaces

Likes: Light Bulbs,Lamps,Electronics,Comic Books,Superheroes,Action Movies,Dorm Leader's Coolness,Being Cool,Feeling of being needed

Talents: Math Problem Solving,Fixing Electrical Issues,Charming,Super Supportive Friend,Too Impressionable

Unique Magic: Glowing Lamp - Can turn all hair on head/body into pure white light. He can control how bright to dim it is and strobe it if need be

Personality: Very sweet,charming, and energetic to the point people say he has a baby face and is such an innocent boy. In reality he just wants to be cool and mature to his age so doesn't like being babied. Has a tendency to do some questionable things on a whim and just hopes he impresses someone while his parents are in the dark about it. 

Fun Facts: Often people say Luke looks like a sweet baby with a wrong large body to his face. Luke worked hard for his body as he decided years ago he was going to have a typical hero body so ignores people's comments that he is too large.

Is quite strange as thinks everything that happens to him is part of his hero backstory and is actually alright with things that should bother him. His father passed away at the start of the current school year but not a single moment of grief has been seen on his face and he didn't leave school with mother for the funeral.

Loves the world of comic and magic heroes. Is considered a trainee hero as keeps focusing on other heroes and not much on himself. He is working on it slowly though in his own way that gets him into trouble. Obsessed with other heroes like those in his dorm.

Took over his father's electrician and lights business but doesn't know how to run it well so is suffering. His mother who is still in a grieving state is working extra hours and sister had to go to public school to save money. Luke uses small jobs and doing risky things as Light Fuse to make money.

His right eye is a fake smart eye that moves in sync with his real left but at times can mess up and stop moving making it very likely someone will notice something is up with his eyes. He lost it during his 1st attempt to do something as Light Fuse on his own and didn't think the criminal would go that far to retaliate being caught. His family doesn't know about his eye.

As Light Fuse he takes on another persona of a playboy superhero that's overconfident. He is skilled in some wrestling combat and disarm hand weapons but what he amazing at is lighting up dark areas where criminals would hide,find lost people,guide others out of the darkness,a beacon,and with his electrician background he can disable bombs but he hopes he never has to cause of the panic.

Loves praise more so from those he looks up to so will try to impress them the most and confide in others who are close to them. Constantly doing this with Francine,as tells her everything and the only person he is ok with seeing him cry.

Dorm uniform & Hero Costume reference

[mystiq-u]

Hint ~Ushijima Wakatoshi

Word count: 1502

Warnings: none

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Gender neutral reader

POV: 2nd person POV.

Ushijima Wakatoshi, the ace of Shiratorizawa Academy's Boys' volleyball team. Also amongst the best players in the entire country. He was perfect... Except for the fact that he thought only about two things- volleyball and food.

Was it because of all that had happened in his childhood and because he was stuck in that phase of his life? No one knew. He knew everything an 18-year-old should, mostly got good grades, and was otherwise mature. But oh boy, the trouble he had in putting two and two together...

You and Ushijima had known each other for quite a while. Since long before high school. You both were great friends since childhood and you were the only person his age he was able to interact with.

It's not like he talked a lot, but he knew exactly what to say and when to say it. You'd also decided to go to Shiratorizawa for your high school, even though your junior high had been different.

You had been in touch throughout the years but hadn't met a lot. You were very happy to be able to find him in the school on your very first day.

❀❀❀

"And hence the answer is 15." You said as you explained to Ushijima the question your math teacher had been doing. "I understand it now. Thank you (y/n). I'm going to go and get both of us some flavoured milk to drink now. What would you like?" He asked.

"Surprise me." You grinned at him and he left. As soon as he left, you let out a sigh and groaned. "He still doesn't get it?" Your best friend asked you as he sat next to you where Ushijima had been sitting previously. "No... He's too dense." You cried.

"My offer still stands. I could help you." Tendou mentioned. "I told you... I don't need your help." You mumbled. Then Ushijima came with two Vanilla milk in his hands. "Hello, Tendou. You're here too." He said, passing you one as you thanked him.

"Wakatoshi-kun! How's it going? Understood that math question?" Tendou inquired. "Yes. Very well, now I have to go meet with coach Washijo. He said he wanted to speak with me if I'm free and I am free. So I am going. I will see you two later." He said and left.

"You sure you don't need my help?" Tendou asked you, trying his best to not laugh at your situation. "Fine... Help me. But I beg you to not just tell him. Ask him how he feels first." You told him with a sigh. "Deal." He said.

The next day you and Tendou were sitting together during the lunch break. "What happened? Did you say anything?" You asked Tendou. "Calm down. And yes I did. I asked him what he thinks of you but the answer he gave is not one you'd like." He whispered so that no one could hear.  Surprisingly he was more worried about the secret getting out than you.

"Well, what did he say? It's okay, my heart can take it." You told him. "Well, he said and I quote, '(y/n) is a good person...." Tendou reported. "That's it.... I've been person zoned... It seems like being friend-zoned would've been much better..." You sniffled.

"But think about it this way... Maybe he likes you but doesn't want anyone to know... There's a possibility of that being the case." Tendou remarked. "Forget it... It's hopeless." You sulked.

"Don't give up. I'll try not to be this subtle with him and try a little direct approach." Tendou planned. "You think that'll work?" You asked him. "Leave it to me."

The next day Ushijima came to you again. "(Y/n), I need more help than I thought... Will you please help me study again?" He asked you, somehow not looking his usual stoic self since you could see a hint of desperation in his eyes.

"Oh, sure... How about after classes we study at the school library? Till it closes." You suggested. "Thank you. I shall see you later then." He said and left. This was it... Your chance at knowing how he felt towards you.

After you two met during the evening you studied for quite a while. "Wakatoshi, you do the questions I marked and I'm gonna... Take a nap for some time. Wake me up when you're done please." You told him. You had to mentally prepare for what you were going to do.

Sometime later you were woken up suddenly by the voice of another student. "Please wake up. Ushijima-san and you... Whoever you are." He said. "Wait-what?" You asked as soon as you woke up.

"The library is closing, please go back to your dorms." The boy who woke you up said. "Wakatoshi-" you were going to ask him where he was but then you realised Ushijima was right next to you... Snoring lightly. He had done all the questions. He must've been tired and accidentally fallen asleep after that.

"Please wake him up too." The guy said and left. "Wakatoshi. Wake up." You spoke softly as you shook him a little. He looked so peaceful you almost didn't want to wake him up but you did anyway. You also thought of not asking him anything as it wouldn't have been right.                                                             

After that, he apologized for falling asleep. You told him it was okay and you went to your respective dorms. You immediately texted Tendou and gave him details of the situation. He made fun of you but then again, he was Tendou so of course he did.

The next day during lunch, you were sitting with Ushijima as usual, waiting for Tendou and the others. "Hey, any of you guys got water?" Semi Eita asked as he walked up to you both. You passed him your water bottle and he thanked you. "(Y/n) would you"- Ushijima was saying when he got interrupted.

"Wakatoshi-kun. I heard you and (y/n) slept together yesterday." Tendou casually said as he joined the rest of you guys. Semi choked on the water he was drinking when he heard that. You were also very flustered because of the inappropriate way it was told and went to help Semi. After some time he calmed down.

"Yes. We did. In the library." Ushijima told Tendou. "What the fu-" Semi said and he caught your hand. "That's it, I'm gonna pass out. What the hell guys? Do you want to be expelled that bad? " He yelled.

"That is not what happened. Tendou you little shi-. Semi and Tendou, a word." You said and you pulled the two guys with you. Semi by his hand and Tendou by his tie.

"You better explain yourself." You spat at Tendou. "What? I'm making it obvious to him. He doesn't get it!" He said. "I have no idea what's happening," Semi said and you gave him a summary of what had happened.

"That is... Unfortunate." Semi stated. "I know... Which is why I asked this idiot to help me." You growled at Tendou. "Don't give up though... I have one last trick up my sleeve." Tendou smiled innocently. "No. You wouldn't dare." You told him, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

Suddenly, Tendou started sprinting towards the table where Ushijima was now sitting with Rheon. "Stop him." You yelled and both you and Semi followed him, running as fast as you could.

As soon as you caught up to him, he was at the table. "Wakatoshi-kun do you like (y/n)?" Tendou asked before you could stop him. 'oh shit.' summed up your thoughts. You watched as Ushijima stood up slowly, his face full of confusion that only you could see.

"Of course I do. We've been friends since we were young, haven't we?" He asked you. 'That's it. I've been friend-zoned.' You thought and were about to tear up when "platonically or the other way." Tendou asked. "Both of course," Ushijima said.

Your heart skipped a beat but you were still a little confused about something. "What do you mean of course?" Tendou asked him for you. "I asked (y/n) on a date earlier. I thought that made it obvious." Ushijima replied.

"He asked you on a date?" Tendou asked you. "No! I don't think so... When?" You asked. "Earlier today. You were reading a book. I asked you if you'd like to go on a date and you said 'hmm. Yeah, sure'." Ushijima told everyone.

"I did?" "You did?" You, Semi, and Tendou asked at the same time. "Yes," Ushijima answered. "Why would you ask me things when I was reading?" You asked Ushijima. "Because I thought you were in a good mood." He answered. Not even a heartless person would be mad at him when he said things like that.

"If you'd have let me handle things from the start, this would've happened way earlier," Tendou whispered to you. "Shut up." You laughed, happy to finally know how Ushijima felt.

(a/n): I feel like Ushijima is definitely a person to make awkward exits.

Anyways, let me know if you liked the story or if I've messed up somewhere.

Thank you for reading.

See you soon!

[industriallyinsecure]

*cracks knuckles* May I request our dear yandere hitmen meeting again their childhood friend. Back when they were kids they promised to marry the other before moving away but now that they happen to meet again it turns our that their beloved childhood friend is already married and even has a mini-me sitting on their arm, shyly peeking at the strange man their parent is greeting oh so happily! How would our upstanding hitmen react? Leave them to their happiness? Or cash in on their promise?

I left Sorb and Gel out of this because they’re too gay and in love to care about a childhood sweetheart. Also I feel like I should share this text from my friend lol

(But if you’d like to see this same req w sorb and gel I’d be happy to oblige)

TW: unhealthy obsessions, unhealthy relationships, general yandere scariness

Formaggio had commitment issues even as a child, but seeing you married to someone else? Big no. And with a whole ass kid?? Even bigger no. Still sleazy and fuckboy-ish when he tries to schmooze information out of you. He’s very wary around your child and declines to hold them. He doesn’t like their beady little eyes and sticks his tongue out at them when you look away. You try to keep the conversation going, but suddenly he has to ‘leave’. He waits until you’re a good distance away to trail you. Formaggio certainly wasn’t the best when it came to keeping a relationship, but he was seriously considering taking the place of your partner. Formaggio is dangerous on his own, but he’s even more dangerous when he’s not thinking clearly.

Illuso likes to believe he can be the bigger person and walk away, but he’s really not. He was happy until he saw the ring on your finger and the little one behind your legs. The ring was his main problem, he didn’t give a shit about the kid. Before he can start projecting and spitting vile words at you, your baby shyly asks who he is. When you said “a very good friend from when I was little”, Illuso’s pride was badly wounded. Friend zoned in two eras of his life, ouch. That stupid little promise to get married, which he clearly remembered you saying yes to, was just an attempt to assess your loyalty to him as a friend (translation: he didn’t know how to cope with a crush when he was younger). When he brought that little fact up, he didn’t miss the way you shied away, bashfully picking up your child. And the way they asked why you both never got married earned them a few brownie points in his mind, but that victory was short lived as you answered that you wouldn’t have had them. In a moment of weakness, Illuso stealthily summoned Man in the Mirror to suck you both into the mirror world via a puddle. He needed to sort a few things out before he sent you on your way. That is, if he decided to let you go.

Pesci is torn. On one hand, you’re happy and you even have your own kid. On the other, you were the only person to see past his appearance and accept him for who he was. See his dilemma? He tries to remain calm and civil, and even offers to babysit for you. But he vents to Prosciutto, who insists that if he really wants you and loves you as much as he says he does, then he had to fight for you. With this new found fire in his stomach, Pesci formulates a plan to take you back and to force that imposter out of your life. He doesn’t want to get his hands dirty, but if push comes to shove, he won’t hesitate to put his foot down and take a stand for you.

Prosciutto was a bit upset when you backed away from his hug, but he quickly realized that it wasn’t a strange grocery bag in your arms. He snuffed his cigarette on the pavement, at your request. And while it wasn’t an opportune time, what with him leaving from a hit, he was more than happy to catch up with you. When you happily explained that you had moved to Napoli with your partner to start a new life, Prosciutto felt a twinge in his heart that he hadn’t felt in a long time but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. You softly asked if he ever got that family he always talked about having with you, bouncing your child on your hip. Of course, he said no, but didn’t elaborate. He won’t pursue you, but he’ll swoop in if there’s ever a hint of marital trouble.

Melone practically snatches your baby out of your arms and is sent into “baby fever” mode. He’s happy when your baby accepts him and immediately asks about your partner and if they’re in your life still. Quickly reminds you of the “joke” promise you two made as kids, but something tells you that he wasn’t joking. Slips you his number and asks you to call if you need a babysitter or needed someone to pass the time with. Looks into your partner and tries to convince you to leave them, your signs don’t match!! They’re obviously just taking advantage of you!!

Ghiaccio goes through the five stages of grief in .0000000001 seconds. You were the one person who could stand him, so when you moved away, he became even more petulant and angry at the world. Honest to goodness believed that you two would marry after high school. He’d be an Olympic Figure Skater and you’d do, well, whatever it was that you were interested in at the time. A dynamic duo. Yes, he had this all planned out at age 11 when he should’ve been paying attention to his math lesson. So seeing the plain ring on your finger and the large glossy eyes of your baby was almost like a slap in the face to him (to put it in Ghiaccio’s words, “like he’d been pissed on, beaten, and set on fire”). He never forgot about you, so why did you forget about him? How was that fair? You’d been taken from him twice?! Fuck! In the heat of the moment he flash freezes you and tucks you into his trunk. Awkwardly holds your little one in his lap, and surprisingly, their tiny squeals and giggles didn’t make him want to tear his hair out. He’ll have to sort this out after he cools off and you warm up. And start thinking about what ring you want. Ghiaccio doesn’t take promises lightly.

Risotto is one of the few that actually lets go. While you were the only one that was there for him (outside of his family of course), he couldn’t handle being the one to take you away and thrust you into the dangerous underground world. He’s just as quiet and cordial as when you were little, gently pressing a finger into your baby’s chubby cheek and wishing you well. He still keeps an eye on you, and soon you’ll find that people that inconvenience you will disappear completely or be eerily nice to you now.

[softluci]

aggressive affection (round two!)

[ part two of this, with the now dateables. guess which one(s) i have a crush on—i am actually so embarrassed because i'm getting shy trying to write this, but it's a must that i put this into the universe. if you want to read this first, rather than the one with the brothers, here is the preface: ] 

i’m not sure if this is something unique to younger people, but i am one hundred percent sure that younger people do it a lot, just going off of the behavior of my friends and i. (i’m gonna tell you now that this isn’t entirely sfw, so minors dni please and thank u)

but i’ve found that it’s pretty common for friends to be, like, aggressively affectionate with one another, for lack of a better phrase. if not aggressively affectionate, then just really flirtatious, often for no reason, and it is still meant entirely in a platonic sense. some examples of this that i have experienced include, but are not limited to:

“i’m gonna eat you,” “do u wanna make out,” “just remember, no matter WHAT happens, i will ALWAYS wanna make out with you,”  “i have literally wanted to fuck all of you at some point,” “let’s have sex,” “stfu before i kiss you,” [points to lap] “is this seat taken?” “every day i’m like, ‘wow, [name] is so cool, we should make out,’” and so on and so forth. 

so you can imagine the fun i’m about to have.

dia

you—why did you—look. 

dia is a very nice, social guy; very smiley, you guys get along great, that's great! 

he is still very much a demon (the prince of them, in fact)  and very much not one of your friends from the human world, no matter how much he wants you to treat him as such. 

you should've known better. 

he'd invited you to the castle for tea and a nice chat—a regular occurrence between the two of you so that he could see how you were doing, how the program was going, talk about lucifer, play catch up; nothing out of the ordinary. 

he complimented you on your performance thus far, telling you about how well you've done—which was just standard kindness—so would you like to explain to the class why your immediate response was, “so kiss me then,” ? 

he was totally fine with it, but he was also very confused, so it was only fair that he pulled you into his lap to get a better understanding of what you meant. if you do the math, it adds up, i swear. 

luckily, you don’t even have to explain yourself with this one because it seems like he already knows. this is good because, given his proximity to you at that moment, you wouldn’t have done a good job explaining yourself anyway. 

“is this how you talk to your human friends?” 

it was a simple question, with a simple answer, it’s just that you were nose-to-nose, and his eyes were hooded all of a sudden and his hand was cupping the side of your face so, naturally, you had some difficulty forming words—fortunately, you managed to nod instead of embarrassing yourself by trying to talk. 

“and do they ever do what you ask?” 

again, it would’ve been foolish of you to try and speak, so you just shook your head. you were doing a surprisingly nice job of maintaining your dignity, well done! this is nice compensation for the fact that you seemed to forget you were dealing with the demon of demons, but he was kind enough to remind you—

“well, i’m not one of them, so i’ll do as you say. you don’t mind, right?” 

do you have a saving grace with this man? meh. he doesn’t want to do anything in front of the others, but he can literally go somewhere private with you under the guise of wanting to talk. it’s not like anyone is gonna tell him he can’t. 

barbatos

you don’t make any sense. you watched black butler know that he’s the scariest person in the devildom, why did you think you could do this? he might be a menace not too far underneath that professional exterior, but that doesn’t mean you have to fuck around and find out. or maybe that’s exactly what that means. 

all he did was bring you tea. he saw you sitting in the castle’s library doing schoolwork—dia offered to let you study there to enjoy some quiet that you wouldn’t have gotten at the house, and because you aren’t one to forgo such a kind gesture, you accepted. 

he set it down on the table in front of you, much to your surprise. 

“oh, thank you! you really didn’t have to,” you said, looking up at him from your seat. 

“nonsense,” he started, smiling softly, “you’ve been working hard.”

you, for whatever reason, took this as an opportunity to pretend barbatos was one of your human friends. 

“you shouldn’t say that unless—” 

that’s all he let you say. what you were going to say was, “you shouldn’t say that unless you plan on making out with me.” trouble was, he already knew that. you must have forgotten who you were talking to. 

before you could finish, his hand was under your chin, and his other hand was resting on the arm of your chair, effectively caging you in, and effectively keeping you from looking away. 

his smile went from benevolent to teasing meaning you got the menace you wanted, as he asked,“unless what?” 

he took more joy in your flustered state than he would care to admit, but he’d recently learned that you had an affinity for trying to catch people off guard, so he thought it was more than fair to do the same to you—as a treat, for him. 

that said, it’s no surprise that you had to endure relentless teasing, him asking you what you wanted from him, why you were so shy all of a sudden, telling you not to be shy and that he wouldn’t bite, unless you asked nicely. what? he liked how warm your face made his hand. 

“what’s wrong? don’t you want to kiss me?” 

okay. that was the last straw. you never even hinted that you didn’t wanna kiss this man, and here he was, making assumptions about you as a person. 

you, in your infinite confidence and assertive nature, said, “i—i never said i didn’t want to.” 

and you know what, you really showed him because even though he laughed at you, even though he made a show of taking off his gloves, even though his hand moved from the arm of the chair to your thigh—even though he took every necessary step to remind you that he was in control, you still got what you wanted. and then some. 

your only saving grace with him is the fact that he breathes professionalism and he’s always busy. when he isn’t busy, however. well. 

simeon

you goddamn heathen. oh, you fucking freak. simeon has a reputation to uphold, you can’t treat him like one of your heathen little human friends, which means you can’t just say whatever pops into your head when you’re talking to him, which means—you should really learn to take compliments normally. 

simeon is a nice guy, and he likes you a lot, so it only makes sense that he compliments you whenever he can. in other words, he dishes out anywhere from one to four compliments whenever the two of you are together. he can’t help it, he just thinks you’re neat! 

the fact remains that you chose to be a menace to the angelic persona he is supposed to project at all times. 

it was a simple compliment. he enjoyed spending time with you, and he told you so, just telling you that your presence was a pleasant one. 

your response was actually normal—it was a simple, “i like being around you too!” 

in a way, this is simeon’s fault, if you think about it. he could’ve just said, “thank you,” and kept it pushing, but instead, he said, “really?”

why would he think you didn’t like being around him? that was unacceptable, so, really, what choice did you have but to give him the most solid affirmation he would ever hear? 

“of course! every day, i’m like, ‘wow, simeon is so cool, we should make out,’ you know?”

what you were expecting was for him to blush and laugh it off, call you silly, and maybe pat your head for good measure. that was a reasonable thing to expect, albeit that is not even close to what you got. 

since you were being so casual, simeon figured that he could—that he should—do the same. it was only natural that he stop being a model angel for a little while, right? 

oh, don’t look so flustered, it’s not like you’ve never been backed against a wall before. how many times has a demon done this to you? it’s only fair that an angel gets a turn. 

“actually,” he started, lips already brushing against yours as he spoke. “i don’t know. would you mind showing me?” 

if you are, understandably, too flustered to function, he will gladly make the first move, don’t worry, but if his first move happens to be taking your bottom lip between his teeth instead of kissing you, well… there’s not much you’re going to be able to do about it, so you may as well just enjoy. 

i mean, you tempt an angel, and you get what’s coming to you—that’s all there is to it. 

similar to barbatos, you will only be safe from this man when he’s in public or around a few of the others. if you’re alone with him and in private, he’s already under the impression that he doesn’t have to be an angel with you, so find joy in the side of him you’ve uncovered. 

solomon (derogatory)

you two deserve each other, really. both of you are public enemies. he was just as terrible as your friends from back home, except he was always walking the line like a tightrope. he was always on the verge of making his teasing into a reality, and to be quite frank, you were starting to get fed up—and you were right to be. but this is what you get for being a dirty solomon enjoyer. 

all of his empty threats and demands about kissing you, his lingering touches on your lower back or waist or thighs, his dumb little smirks on his dumb little face, his occasional bites wherever you were vulnerable, his habit of putting his hand around your throat for fun (or so he says)—those all came with the territory. he hasn’t had a friend to tease in ages (he can’t do it to asmo without it immediately turning into an hour long event), so you get it all at once, congratulations! 

don’t look so upset, he’s an attractive guy, so this is still a win. 

now, all of that said, you were hard pressed to find an opportunity to catch this man off guard, but once you got your chance, you latched onto it exactly as you should’ve. 

the two of you were in his room, studying (“studying”) for an upcoming exam. he was sitting in a chair, and you were on his bed a few feet away. you needed something from your bag, which was on the side of his chair farthest from you, so you decided to walk by him to get it, like a normal person. look at you, acting regular for once.

evidently, that was a mistake. as soon as you were in front of him, his hand was on your waist, and you were pulled into his lap. 

you turned to look at him, eyebrows raised and everything, and he seemed to have an explanation ready to go, paired with one of his signature smiles.

“i was wondering when i’d get to bother you again.” 

this was your chance—probably the only chance you’d get in a while, so it made sense that you took this opportunity to be heinous, even though you were in a rather compromising position. 

“either sleep with me or leave me alone.”

you did it. for a moment, you had him. the surprise plastered on his face was enough gratification to last you a lifetime, however fleeting it may have been. unfortunately for you, he had a wonderful recovery time. 

before you could fully enjoy the look on his face, it was gone, replaced by a more sinister expression that almost made you regret your decision. 

for what it’s worth, you didn’t have to see that menacing look of his for long because he turned you away from him to press your back into his chest. if that makes you feel any better. 

“i’ll never leave you alone,” he hummed, teeth already grazing your neck. his hand moved from your waist to your inner thigh, slowly separating one leg from the other. “but you already knew that.” 

you didn’t have a saving grace with this man before, and now you never will.

[elisela]

do you know how to do take-aways? (read on ao3) derek x stiles, g, 2.2k, au, meet cute, fluff, kid fic

prompt: call me for @tylerhunklin

--

"Hey Scott," Stiles says, jamming the phone receiver between his shoulder and ear so he can go back to typing with both his hands. "Desk duty is killing me, man, do you know how much of a backlog on paperwork there is in this place? Fucking ridiculous—"

"Stiles," Scott cuts in, “I have a call I need you to take."

Stiles sits up straighter and frowns. "We've got people out on patrol—"

Scott's laughter is warm and familiar in his ear. "No, it's not a patrol thing. I'm gonna transfer it over to you, okay? And I’m still coming to bring you dinner tonight."

"Roger," Stiles says, lazily snapping a salute despite Scott not being able to see him. There's a pause and a click, and he slips back into his professional mode—the one his dad definitely wishes he would use more often. "Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department, this is Deputy Stilinski, how can I help you?"

"Hi," a small voice says. "Do you know how to do take-aways?"

He frowns, glancing over at the display on the phone screen. He'd think it was a joke except he doubts Scott would patch that through, and there's a childish tone to the voice that's difficult to fake. "Like subtraction?" he asks.

"Yeah," the voice says. "We learned it today but I don't remember and I gotta do my homework."

He presses his lips together so he doesn't laugh and slouches, relaxing a little in his seat. "Sure do," he says. "What's your name?"

"Talia Marie Hale," she says promptly, and Stiles scribbles it down on a piece of paper. "How do I do five take away five?"

"Can you put up five fingers?" he asks, and she makes a noise of assent. "Okay, now put five of them down." He hears her counting in the background and he copies the number the shows on his display underneath her name, then clicks over to run it through the system. When she stops, he says, "okay, how many fingers do you still have up?"

"I don't have any," she says. "How do you write that?"

"Zero," he says. "Do you know how to make that? It's like a big o." He waits another moment before asking, "is anyone in the house with you, Talia?"

"Yeah, my auntie," she says. "But I can't ask her questions while she's writing unless it's an emergency."

He can't catch himself before he laughs. "What made you decide to call 9-1-1?"

"My teacher said if you ever need help you can call," Talia says. "And I really need help. What's seven take away three?"

--

The second call comes in three days later. He's peeling apart his turkey sandwich and layering Doritos on it, providing much-needed crunch, when his phone rings through from dispatch. "Sup, Scott," he says, because Scott's the only one who ever bothers to call him directly.

"Sorry, Stiles, just me," Kira says. "I have someone on the line for you. Given that she asked for you by name, maybe you could remind her that this line is for emergencies and talk to her guardian?"

He presses the top slice of bread back onto his sandwich and leans back in his chair. "Got it," he says, and waits for the click. "That you, Miss Hale?"

"Hi, Mr. Deputy Stilinski,"  she says, tiny voice chipper in his ear. "I'm really confused about this take away."

"Hit me," he says, and she giggles.

"Ten take away six," she says. "I put up all my fingers but I got confused."

He hums and glances around his desk. "Are you with your auntie again today?" he asks, and when she confirms he adds, "do you have any toys at her house?"

"I'm at my house," she says. "Auntie watches me while Daddy's away for work, but she's busy writing her thesis so I can't go in the office."

"What's your dad's name?" he asks.

"Derek Samuel Hale," she says. "And my auntie's name is Cora Elizabeth Hale, and my other auntie is Laura Margaret Hale, and my dog's name is Ruffio Hale. Like from Hook. Auntie Cora named him because she said Daddy was scared of Hook when he was my age and she likes to make fun of him. Daddy tried to rename him but he only wants to answer to Ruffio now."

He writes it all down with a grin—even the unasked for information—and flicks at his mouse to wake his computer. "Your aunt sounds pretty cool," he says. "Okay, go get ten small toys and we'll get your math done. Blocks, if you have them."

He runs Cora's name through the system as he waits, just to make sure Talia isn't being left with someone irresponsible, and finds nothing of consequence. He keeps the list, though; he'll tell Talia not to call 9-1-1 anymore unless it's an emergency, and if she does, he'll get in touch with her dad then.

--

"Little red h-hen makes s-sop," Talia reads, and pauses. "That doesn't sound right. What's ou?"

"Spell the whole thing for me," he says, and corrects, "soup," when she does, spearing a piece of microwaved chicken and popping it in his mouth. He's quiet while she reads, only interjecting when she needs help, trying to eat silently in the background. She mostly spells the comprehension questions for him and he reads them to her, and when she finally thanks him and hangs up, he looks up to see his dad standing over his shoulder.

"Hey, Pops, I finished the file on—"

"When did your desk turn in to the homework helpline?" Noah asks, frowning, and Stiles rolls his eyes.

"She only calls on my break, it's fine," he says, waving a hand to brush away the question before picking up the file. "Anyway—"

"Are her parents aware?"

"I left her aunt a voicemail on Monday," he says, and when his dad just looks at him, he sighs. "Fine, I left her a message last Monday and I haven't heard back, but she's not alone in the house, nothing bad is going on, she's just—lonely, I think." It's something he understands; after his mom passed away, he'd started calling Edith, who worked the front desk of the station when he was a kid, every night his dad wasn't home.

"Call again,"  Noah says, "and next time, make whoever is home with her aware of it. Once or twice is fine; every day for weeks is a problem."

--

"Here," he says, and Talia gives him the first letter promptly before pausing and spelling out the rest. "Good job. Um, said."

He might be extending their time on the phone, just a little. He likes talking to her; she reminds him of himself, her elementary drama always makes him laugh, and she likes asking him questions about being a deputy. So he’s not really looking forward to asking to speak to her aunt and put a stop to all this.

When she seems like she’s winding down, he sighs. “I know you’re not supposed to interrupt Auntie Cora,” he says, “but I was hoping to talk to her. Can you tell her Deputy Stiles is on the phone?”

“Oh, Auntie’s not here,” Talia says, and Stiles feels the beginning of a heart attack coming on before she adds, “Daddy’s home now. I’ll go get him.” He hears a thunk and then little feet running, her calling out for her Dad before there’s a muffled thump.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi,” he says, “this is Deputy Stilinski from BHSD—is this Mr. Hale?”

“This is,” he says, and if it’s possible to fall in love with a voice, Stiles does so right then. Soft and gentle, just a bit of concern, and he has to stop himself from running Derek’s name through the system to get a photo. His dad is already irritated with him for encouraging Talia’s calls (and, you know, for the whole stopping a bank robbery in progress thing that led to the injury that landed him on desk duty), he doesn’t need to add misuse of resources to the list. “Is everything okay?”

He takes a breath and explains, starts from the beginning and includes how he gave Talia his desk number so she would stop calling 9-1-1, makes sure to add that he’d tried to get ahold of Cora—and leaves out the fact he hadn’t called Mr. Hale directly even though he could have easily done so—and when he’s finished talking, he adds, “I didn’t mind, honestly, she just told me today that you were back in town and I wanted to let you know.”

There’s a pause where he holds his breath and hopes that Mr. Hale doesn’t think he’s a creep, or doesn’t demand to speak to the Sheriff—but he just lets out a breath and says “I am so sorry, I’ll absolutely talk to her, it won’t happen again.”

“I really didn’t mind,” he says again, because he also doesn’t want to get Talia into trouble. “She must get home from school at the same time my break starts because she always called at the same time, I wasn’t busy. Just making you aware.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Hale says. “Deputy—” and isn’t Stiles going to have dreams where his name is said like that, low and grateful and—

“Sorry?” he asks, flushing when he realizes he’s lost track of the conversation. “I didn’t catch that.”

“I appreciate what you did,” Mr. Hale says. “I’ll talk to her.”

--

Talia doesn’t call the next day.

She shows up instead.

“Mr. Deputy Stiles!” he hears from the front, and his head snaps up to see a little girl with long dark hair looking around the room, envelope clutched in one hand, the holding onto the hottest man Stiles has ever seen and holy shit, he suddenly believes that karma is very real and he has clearly done something good in his life to earn this kind of reward.

He starts to stand, and her eyes catch his and light up as she tugs her dad towards him. “Miss Hale?”

“Hi!” she says, flinging her arms around his waist. He hugs her back and looks over at her dad, who gives him a sheepish look and shrugs. “I got a hundred percent on my sight words test and Daddy said we could go to ice cream to celebrate and then when we were at ice cream he said we should do something nice for you because you helped me so so so much and I really wanted to come here anyway because I want to see a real jail and Daddy said if I was really really nice and asked politely then maybe you could show me some handcuffs—”

If this is what he’s like, he’s starting to understand why it was difficult for him to make friends in school, because she just does not stop, and doesn’t leave an opportunity for him to get a word in. He crouches down so he’s eye-level with her and waits it out, accepting the envelope when she finally runs out of words and beams at him. “Thank you,” he says, and when he opens it up to find a drawing and a handful of gift cards, he looks up to Mr. Hale. “You really didn’t have to, Mr. Hale,” he says, wrapping one arm around Talia’s shoulders when she darts in to hug him again.

“Derek,” he says, and when he smiles, Stiles is pretty sure he’s found God. “We don’t want to take up your time, I just wanted to thank you.”

“But—” Talia starts, and falls quiet when Derek looks at her again. “I can’t even see the people in the jail?”

“It’s not really a jail,” Stiles says, shrugging, “just a holding cell. And there’s no one in it right now.”

“Boo,” Talia says. “Can I meet your Sheriff?”

“Lia,” Derek warns, and she sighs explosively. “Sorry about—all this. I talked to Cora and she knows to give Talia a little more attention during homework time, so she won’t—she shouldn’t—be calling you again. Talia, we need to get home. Say thank you and goodbye.”

“Bye, Mr. Deputy Stiles,” she says, and he knows—he knows—that her sticking out her bottom lip and pouting is nothing more than a manipulation tactic, but it hits him all the same. “Thank you.”

--

“Deputy Stilinski,” he says before he fully has the receiver to his ear, wadding up a piece of scrap paper and tossing it at Jordan’s head to get his attention. He motions to the pizza box laying on his desk—dinner for the station courtesy of Derek, who clearly didn’t know the going rate for tutors given the sheer amount he’d dropped on gift cards—and makes a grabbing motion. They’ll be having station dinners for weeks—so long as they cater to his busted foot and bring him what he wants. Otherwise, he’s spending it all on himself.

“Hi,” someone says, and “sorry, this is Derek Hale, Talia’s dad?”

“Hey,” he says, sitting up straighter. “How can I help you?”

“I—” there’s a pause and a muffled sound, a conversation happening just outside of what Stiles can hear. “Sorry, I—I wanted to ask if you would be interested in getting coffee on Saturday. With me,” he adds, and Stiles can hear it when he cups his hand over the microphone and says, “Talia, stop.”

It’s like a record scratch in his brain. “Coffee?” he repeats. He’d thanked karma for smiling down on him, but he’d figured the encounter with Derek was one and done. “You want—with me?”

“Yes,” Derek says, “although my daughter is also extremely interested and I believe is willing to fight me for you.”

Laughter bursts out of his mouth before he can stop it. “You know, I think Talia did call dibs first,” he says, grinning. “What if we all got coffee and then you and I went for lunch?”

“I can work with that,” Derek says. “It’s a date.”

[lilacmeadows]

Made For You pt. 2

Omg you guys thank you so much for all the support! Part 1 was my first fic and you guys were so sweet. I had to get started on part 2 right away. If you want to be on my taglist, just let me know! This is just leading up to the next few chapters that’s just gonna be FILTHY. I needed a bit of backstory to be satisfied, but now that the boring part is out of the way, I’m gonna go research other names for genitals. Hope you enjoy! -Savvy

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1    Part 2     Part 3

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, underage reader (nothing sexual happens underage), stockholm syndrome, mentions of family death, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT:  2.9k

“Make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.” 

When she was first taken, of course she was scared. She didn’t know why, where she was going, if she’d be rescued. It was a painful adjustment, and some days it was as if the tears would never stop. It’s not like she was worth anything to anyone who mattered, her family wasn’t rich. Just her mom and brother. They lived a happy and normal life. 

She’d guess it didn’t really matter. At the age of 10, y/n was old enough to understand basic concepts, carry a conversation with adults, and she had strict teachers in school, so she knew how to behave. 

What she didn’t know was how to be a wife. Or a ‘life-partner’. None of the Men would ever call her a future ‘wife’. She was training to be a mate. Someone the Soldat could own and connect with so he didn’t fly off the rails if things got out of control. If he got out of their control. Every morning, a watcher would wake her up at 8AM so she could stretch, eat, and meditate. By 10AM, her first trainer of the day would come in and teach her the schooling she was missing. Just basic math and reading, a little German, and a little Russian. Not enough for her to eavesdrop on their plans, but enough to understand her Soldat if he didn’t feel like speaking English. 

At 1PM, another trainer would come and bring her to the small kitchenette down the hall. They had no intention of domesticating the ‘couple’, but she was learning to be a woman- of course the Men would have her start in the kitchen. She would learn very simple meals that could feed a fully grown man, and usually had something light for lunch herself. The men brought her the other 2 meals a day. At 3PM she would have lessons on ‘Womanhood’. At least that’s what she called it. A trainer would come in and teach her a never-ending list of rules that she had to follow in order to be a ‘lady’. It reminded her of an old Barbie movie she would watch when she was little. There was a song called ‘To Be a Princess’, where a poor girl learned how to act proper. Once she started seeing herself as that princess, the days got a little easier. Some days, they would go over how to sit and lie down like a lady. Others, they would walk laps around the halls open to her, reviewing how to walk on the balls of her feet. She learned to talk in short sentences with excellent manners, and how to brush her hair, so she could look more presentable for her Soldat. 

Over the years of compliance, the trainers softened on her just as the watchers had. Of course, they were still horrible people, but they knew she was a kind girl at heart and wouldn’t cause trouble. Some days, she would be made to sit perfectly still with a stack of books on her head, while her trainer would tell her something silly happening outside the walls of the building that became her home. She learned little bits of information about their lives, music, art. But never anything political or having to do with who the Men even worked for. That was strictly forbidden. They would let her color in her free time. Sometimes a watcher would bring a book from his home for her to read, and when she was old enough, she was given a few colors of yarn and started knitting sweaters and scarves on plastic needles. She didn’t have a clock, but she would learn by the rotating shifts of her watchers what time of day it was.

There were children whose lives sucked more than hers. And for that, she was grateful.

When she got older (let’s say 18), the training started to change. She never knew what day it was, or even what year. She had stopped keeping track so long ago, but the changes were made gradually. She would be made to read books on intimacy, and then watch videos of men brutally ravishing ladies about her size. She had to learn what to do to please her Soldat, without being taught physically. This made her happy. The thought of any of the watchers or trainers doing that to her made her sick. And everyone thought it was in her best interest to be completely innocent to the touch of a man when she has her first encounter with the Soldat.

Which turned out exactly as planned. But on the day Steve and Sam plucked her out of her bedroom, she was not expecting the Soldat to be sitting right in front of her. In all his glory.

The quinjet was eerily silent for all of seven seconds before Clint had the audacity to continue the conversation he started.

“You make the soldier happy?” was the best the shocked man could come up with.

“I haven’t met him yet, but I’m ready. They made me ready for him.” y/n said with bright, hopeful eyes. Her words flowed so easily, they sounded rehearsed.

“Do we tell her?” Tony asked Steve, who was getting greener by the second. He couldn’t believe he just got his best friend back, not two weeks ago, and now he has to worry about a girl who’s obsessed with said best friend.

“I don’t think we really have a choice.” Steve replied, taking a deep breath. The whole quinjet looked like they were holding their breath. y/n still didn’t know the names of the three men on the opposite side of the quinjet. Two of them standing together, pausing their conversation, and the brooding man, who everyone keeps looking at.

“y/n, meet Bucky.” Steve said, pointing at the man across from her. But ‘Bucky’ went completely over her head- the name being unfamiliar to her.

“Hello, sir. Pleased to meet you.” She said, offering a genuine smile, but clearly not picking up what Steve was putting down. Clint chimed in again, wanting to be out of his confused misery.

“Wait a second. Y/n. You mean the soldier, as in the Winter Soldier?” Y/n immediately nodded at hearing that name. She knew her Soldat went by that name. “As in that guy right there?” 

Her eyes went wide at the realization. He was sitting right in front of her. Staring at her since the minute she stepped onto the plane. And he was gorgeous. Long hair, thick thighs, piercing blue eyes, and a jaw that could probably cut glass. But he looked upset. Pissed really, and that scared her. She had one job: Make the Soldat happy. And there she was, barely presentable. She hadn’t even addressed him properly, how she was taught. With all the eyes on her, she felt a blush rush through her whole body at the embarrassing thought. But she had to. He wouldn’t like her if she didn’t follow the rules she grew up with.

Y/n daintily stood up and walked until she was right in front of Bucky. He held her eye contact the entire way, still not having said one word during this whole exchange. She gently knelt down until she was on her knees in front of him. 

“I hope I can make you happy, my Soldat. I am a gift from the Men who take care of us, and I am entirely yours.” Bucky’s jaw twitched. He hadn’t said anything this whole time, but his mind was moving at lightning speed. He watched this gorgeous, barely dressed girl sit across from him, and was already in awe. But then that girl got on her knees and declared her loyalty to him? In front of everyone he knows? He couldn’t lie to himself, he’d never been more turned on. But everything about this was wrong. She was just a Stockholm Syndrome’d girl who wanted to follow orders. But her orders were to make him happy. He finally broke eye contact with her to see Tony’s shocked face looking over at Bruce and Thor, to make sure he’s not hallucinating this. 

“Y/n, you should stand up.” He said to her in a hushed tone. Probably harsher than he meant to. He could see her visibly take a breath at the sound of his voice, his eyes followed the gentle slope of her neck down to her breast. She dreamed for years about what his voice would sound like, and it just rolled over her. But she quickly obeyed and stood in front of his seat. He expected her to say something else, but she was silent then. Her previous outburst was one of the few exceptions to her ‘only talk when spoken to’ rule. “What do you want? Where is your family so we can take you home?” He asked her. She could feel the tears well up in her eyes. He didn’t want her was all she could assume. She was made for him, so why was he turning her away?

“I want to make you happy, sir. It’s all I want. Please let me be good for you. I promise, I’ll be so good for you.” Begging was familiar to her from her studies. She didn’t expect to be begging for her to be able to please him, but she would do whatever it took to get him to keep her.

“No. Y/n. This isn’t right. You were being kept there, whatever Hydra told you to do is over. You’re free now.” The tears flowed freely down her cheeks and it broke his heart. She tried to cover her face with her hands. He didn’t want to see her cry, nor did he want to turn her away, but he also couldn’t just let her be his sex slave. It wasn’t right. 

“Please don’t be sad. This is for the best-” He tried to reason with her, but when he took her hand off her face so she would look at him, the contact only made her sob harder. This was all she wanted. 

“Buck, I think we should just let her sit for a minute. Can you grab her some water? Tony and I will try to figure out where she was from.” Steve said to Bucky- trying to end this painful and awkward situation. Bucky stood and walked to another area of the quinjet. He was grateful to be able to use this time to think.

“Y/n, we’re gonna need your help to get you home okay. What’s your last name? How old are you?” 

“Y/L/N” And then she went quiet. It never occurred to her that she didn’t know how old she was. Of course, she remembered her birthday, but she couldn’t tell the weeks and months apart, so she hadn’t celebrated it since she turned 10 in 2006. “What year is it?”

“When did they take you?” Steve asked gently. Being a man from another time, he could remember well the day he woke up in 2011 when it was supposed to be 1944. He knew how jarring it was to discover all the time that’s been lost, and wanted to spare her that grief.

“2006. I was 10.” She looked at him, and she could tell it’s not just 2008 by the look on his face. She knew her body went through changes over her time with the Men, but between the ‘dietary supplements’ they gave her, and the fact that she wasn’t looking in a mirror- much less shopping for clothes- she didn’t realize she had fully completed puberty. 

“Y/n, it’s 2016. You’re 20 now.” And that made the tears come harder. But she wasn’t so upset about the 10 years of her life. She was mad at 20 years of her life wasted. Since Bucky didn’t want her, all of the training was for nothing. She knew living for him made her the definition of a broken person- she wasn’t dumb. The idea of her Soldat was what grounded her all that time. When she was lonely, she’d think about the man the Men always tell her about. They told her how he was their ‘greatest asset’. And she often fantasized about if he would fall in love with her. So by the time she met him, she had already been in love with him for much longer than she’d care to admit- which makes the heartbreak of rejection hurt that much more.

Unfortunately for Bucky, his heart was heavy too. He tucked away into the tiny bed area on the jet after quickly handing Steve the water to give to y/n. It was too much. Being in that room with her, she looked at him like he hung the moon. But he most certainly had not. He was a murderer. Tony’s father was a scientist during the war, and Bucky knew him pretty well through Steve. And he killed him. He had scattered memories of hurting dozens of people, so why would she be so willing to be with someone like him?

Part of him wanted it. After almost a century of not owning anything and not having a choice, he was given the opportunity to have something that belonged only to him. A gift from the men who take care of us. If it wasn’t cruel, he would have laughed in her face. Maybe she was taken care of, but he most certainly wasn’t. She was brought in young enough to still be under the impression that Hydra wasn’t evil, just strict. He imagined for a minute how things could have turned out for the two of them if he hadn’t gotten free. If Hydra really was planning on giving him a gift. He didn’t like the last gift they gave him in the shape of an arm, but y/n was perfect. She was the perfect size for him- although his broad frame could dwarf most women. And her smile pulled at his heart.

He wanted to kiss her the minute he saw her. He knew he wanted to make her his.

And that was bad.

He rubbed his hand over his face and decided to rejoin the group in the middle of their conversation. Thor and Bruce decided to stop being passive members of the conversation and introduced themselves. Y/n was very confused at Thor’s proclamation as ‘God of Thunder’, but with all that was happening, she didn’t feel it was her place to question it.

“- a good thing we have spare rooms at the compound. You can stay as long as you like.” Tony finished speaking to y/n just as Bucky was walking into the room. “We’re gonna have a new house guest MC.” He waggled his eyebrows at the man who caught the back half of that conversation.

Bucky’s jaw dropped. This would only make the situation much harder than it needed to be. He looked to Steve for an explanation. The blond stood up and made his way over to Bucky.

“Look, Hydra scrubbed her records off of every database and-” He took a deep sigh, “Her family is dead, Buck. They probably killed them after they took her.” 

Then it was Bucky’s turn to sigh. He knew the right thing to do was to help her, but he also knew how much he wanted to feel her soft skin in his hands. And that made her dangerous to be around. 

What nobody knew was why Hydra took the 10 year old from Georgia. In 2006, the Winter Soldier was sent on a mission to kill a scientist that lived there. Of course the poor guy didn’t have a chance when the Soldier was sitting in his house, waiting for him when he got home, but what the Soldier wasn’t expecting was a little girl to be coming inside with him. The scientist looked sleazy and didn’t have any children, so who knows what would have happened to her if the Soldier didn’t get there in time. She screamed and cried. The comm in his ear commanded him to kill the girl for being a witness. But the part of the Soldier that was still Bucky wanted her to be safe. He shushed the little girl and asked her for her address. When she recited it to him, he rubbed her head and told her she was a good girl, before he dug his metal fingers into the child’s pressure points and she fell limp into his arms. y/n woke up in her bed, crying at the bad dream she must have had- her mother not even home yet. That was the first act of defiance Hydra ever experienced from the Winter Soldier. First sign of humanity and compassion. They knew if the mind control was getting weaker, he would be harder to control next time they unfroze him, but his protective nature of the girl would make her an asset to them.

Her capture was arranged before his heart was fully frozen in the chamber. Neither Bucky nor y/n remembered this- Bucky only remembering parts of his time under their control, and y/n never thinking about that bad dream again, but the connection was still there as strong as it was that day 10 years ago.

Part 3

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both.  The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

[mamabearcat]

9: a missing moment from canon 💜

Okay. Sorry in advance. This ended up a lot angstier than I'd planned.

The thing is, Kagome is a modern girl in a very violent and unforgiving time period, and I'm sure she saw a lot of things that she wasn't emotionally prepared for. And she's such an empathic character, she would take those situations to heart, and they would affect her a lot.

I'm going to put this under a read more. Contains a death (not main character) and canon level violence. I'm going to put it in my AO3 one-shot collections as well.

“Kagome? Can I get the kettle out of your backpack?”

Kagome startled at the sound of Sango’s voice so close to her, and the soft touch of a hand on her shoulder. Suddenly she realised that everyone had been setting up the camp around her while she’d been sitting on a tree root, silently staring into space.

“Oh Sango-chan, I’m sorry, let me help!”

Sango smiled at her wanly, her lips barely turning up at the corners, squeezing Kagome’s shoulder gently.

“It’s fine Kagome-chan. Just rest here a moment.”

“O-okay.”

And she was left alone with her thoughts again. Swirling thoughts she didn’t really want. Thoughts she wished she could bleach out of her mind, like Mama did with the stains on white tablecloths. Soak her whole self in a bucket of bleach to be hung out on the line, and go back to being sunny carefree Kagome, who’s main worry of the week was if she managed to remember the quadratic equation for that math quiz. Not the Kagome who had just seen that village. That hut. Not the Kagome who had held that boy. Not the Kagome who… killed.

*

“Here, there’s someone alive over here!” Shippou called out frantically, his tiny paws incapable of pulling aside the ruins of the toppled and still smouldering hut. In a flash Inuyasha was there, lifting heavy boards, kicking aside matting and broken furniture until he could make his way inside.

“Inuyasha!”

Kagome followed him into the partially collapsed hut, medical kit in hand, but Inuyasha turned to block her view.

“Don’t go in Kagome, you can’t do no good in there.”

There was a faint, gurgling cry, and Kagome slipped under his outstretched arm to glance around the room. There had been fire. There were arrows. There was blood. There was a woman, her eyes open but no longer seeing, her torn clothing no longer protecting either her modesty or the horrific end she had come to. And there was a boy.

He was young, probably around Souta’s age. But the gash across his throat and horrific burns covering half his face and chest made him look monstrous, and Kagome had to clench her teeth hard against the bile forcing it’s way up her throat. The smell was horrific, and she panted for a moment as she knelt next to the boy, trying to get herself under control. His one eye focused on her face.

“Ma…” he gurgled. Kagome glanced aside to the woman on the floor and then back to the boy, concentrating her gaze on the unmarked side of his face, smoothing the blood soaked hair off his forehead as she gathered her courage, then forced herself to take stock of his injuries for a moment. She blinked quickly, fighting back tears. Even if she tried to treat those burns, the amount of blood he’d lost from where his throat was cut, the actual cut itself – she had no way to fix this. Even a modern hospital would have trouble fixing this. She took a deep breath.

“I’m Kagome, and I’m going to give you something to take the pain away”, she said softly.

She reached into her medical kit and took out the tiny dark bottle that Kaede had given her. The one that came with extremely strict instructions and should only be used in very specific circumstances. There was no way she could save this boy. Left for dead by samurai soldiers and then horrifically burnt by the hut they’d set alight. The hut that had once been his home, his safe place. They had arrived too late to help, long after the samurai had left. She couldn’t do anything to take those violent memories away for him. But at least she could take his pain away.

Being as gentle as she could she dribbled the mixture into the child’s mouth, humming softly to him and stroking back his hair as she waited for the medicine to take effect. Gradually the ragged breathing slowed and his eye rolled back as a great sigh, and then another left his body.

Her trembling hand slid down his face to close his eye as the silent tears came. Tears for a little boy she would never know, a boy from a different time, but who in essence was probably very similar to the little brother she loved.

Inuyasha stood behind her silently, waiting for her to be ready to move aside. For a while, he’d sat in the hut with Kagome and the boy, listening to her quiet hum and the gasping breaths of the boy, watching the movement of the gentle hand. But in the end, he hadn’t been able to sit still any longer, his fingers twitching helplessly, and had gone outside to dig the graves. At least with that he was useful.

When Kagome finally wobbled to her feet, he picked up the little boy, barely a weight in his arms, and carried him outside to place in the grave. When he came back for the mother, Kagome had found a charred blanket to wrap her in, and had closed her eyes.

When the graves for all the villagers had been filled and Miroku had chanted the sutras, with Sango laying some wildflowers she’d managed to find not far away, Kagome had leaned on Inuyasha bonelessly, holding Shippou in her arms. It felt like she should still be crying, but her tears had dried up to be replaced by a feeling of emptiness. A hollow rage that had no where to go.

And that rage still filled her. The unfairness of it. There had been no reason for the people in that small village to have died. There had been barely twenty of them. It had obviously been a small farming community, a poor one, with nothing worth stealing. The only thing stolen had been their lives, their dignity, by men who had no compassion or soul.

“Kagome?”

Little Shippou was standing there in front of her, holding out a plate. Plain rice, with fish cooked over the fire.

But one look at the blackened blistered skin that she usually loved to eat had her bolting into the darkness as far from the camp as she could manage before she collapsed over a large tree root, hurling the meagre contents of her stomach onto the forest floor. The dry sobs came then as she gripped the bark under her fingernails, feeling them bend and crack as she put all her strength into it.

“Hey.”

Inuyasha was there, holding back her hair, his hand warm on her back.

“It’s not fair”, she gasped. “They didn’t deserve that. It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not fair”, he said, his usually gruff voice gentle.

“And I know what you’re going to say. And I know it too. I need to be tougher, harder. I need to get used to seeing things like that. I need to be stronger.”

The hand on her back rubbed gently.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything of the sort.”

He sighed then, and she felt herself being pulled backwards into his arms as he picked her up and moved away from the meagre pile of vomit, sitting down against a tree closer to the campsite, holding her tightly against him, kissing her forehead.

“You are a good person Kagome. Kaede woulda done the same.”

“I’m not a good person”, she whispered. “I killed him Inuyasha. That little boy.”

“No you didn’t.” He ignored her shaking head. “He woulda died anyway, all alone. You gave him peace, and you were there for him when he needed someone the most.”

Kagome shut her eyes, and he turned her face to his.

“Look at me. Kagome look at me.”

His eyes were the most earnest she’d ever seen them, and she couldn’t help the small sob that escaped her.

“You don’t need to be hard. You don’t!”

He stroked her hair gently as she pressed her face into his chest, tears streaming.

“Your heart, your… softness. It’s one of the things I like about ya the most. Because that soft heart a yours looked at a shitty hanyou like me and decided I was okay.”

She snorted at him through her tears, pushing at his chest with a weak fist.

“You’re better than okay, dummy!”

“Better than okay”, he chuckled. “I’ll take that. But I'm be'in serious here, you don’t gotta change, alright? Not one bit a you. You stay the same Kagome. I could never have sat beside that kid like you did. You keep be’in you, and I’ll be here to look after you.”

“O-okay…”

They sat silently for a while in the darkness, the only sounds the crackling of the nearby campfire and the wind in the leaves.

“Do ya think you could eat a little, or do ya need to go to sleep.”

“Maybe… just… not the fish.”

“Fair enough. Can ya walk?”

“Yeah.”

When they got back to the campsite, Shippou was crying in Sango’s arms as she murmured soft words to him, and Kagome’s heart lurched. Letting go of Inuyasha’s hand she held out her arms.

“Shippou, I’m okay", she said, trying to make her tone light and encouraging. "You didn’t do anything wrong, I was just sad. But I bet if you gave me a hug, I’d feel much better?”

Seeing her, Shippou bounded over to her and into her arms, hugging her tight, sobbing out his apologies for making her ill, and she hummed to him, stroking his soft hair away from his forehead. Here was a little boy who needed her right now, who she could help. And that made the rage lessen a little.

But she would never forget.

[i-cant-sing]

Daniel and YN part 9 🌗🌗

“Sensei, I think we have a lead on Daniel and YN.” “Tell me more, Tomura.” Shigaraki’s spine tingles when his master speaks.

His father figure, his sensei. Desperate to please, he pulled up the file his rat in the police station grabbed. “Last week there was an incident at the cafe in the pink district. There were several vases destroyed from an unknown explosion. The windows were cracked from trembling so hard. Almost all the footage tapes were melted, melted in the camera holder. When examined, the broken materials were giving off radiation. Radiation so bad it left a cop in the hospital.” “Interesting… you said almost all the footage?” “Yes. My rat got me the only tape that survived. When I watched it, I think I saw them.” AFO tilted his head. It was progressing faster than planned, but of course he was prepared for that possibility. Daniel seemed to be more subject to his emotions than his sister. Over the years AFO did not see an improvement on his mental development. It seemed that he would need to intervene sooner than expected if he did not want to lose his child to a hero. “Sensei. There’s also news that All Might and his protege are investigating the incident.” Now that was a complication. All Might and his other child should not be allowed total influence over the two. It was time to enact a different plan. One that involved seeing his past wife. “Thank you Tomura. I want you to keep an eye out for them. They are not to be harmed. I have to make arrangements. When you find them make sure you keep a nullifier on hand. In case Daniel needs to be calmed down.” With that, AFO hung up and opened a portal to the Midoryia household. He hasn’t gone by Midoryia for a long time, but even so he did not expect a warm welcome from his past wife. And when she opened the door to him, the look of worry on her face confirmed his suspicions. “They’re not here. Izuku is out trying to find YN. You can’t lash out at him or All Might. They’re-” “I plan to find them first. Izuku is not capable of handling Daniel��s quirk if they upset him. And you underestimate YN. She is very adept at hiding and defense.” “How would you know?” “Because I keep a watchful eye on all my children.” “All your..?” “Four years before we conceived Izuku, I donated my DNA for a little… experiment. The mother had a minor quirk involving radiation. From that pregnancy cane Daniel. Four years later, months after we conceived Izuku, I had my DNA donated again. YN was born from that.” “They 're just experiments to you?” “At first, yes. I did not plan to get attached. But I did. And I have been attached since. I was there when Daniel first displayed reminances of a quirk. I was there when YN learned to balance herself on a high wire. I found them when they were lost. I arranged for her mother’s job to move her to this district and apartment building. I’m the reason you gained custody of them if you recall the deal we made.” “I…” “My point is I may not have been there for Izuku’s life but I have been there for my other two. And I don’t plan to relinquish my children to All Might or those heroes. Is that understood, All Might?” Inko turned around to see her son and his mentor standing in the doorway. Both were glaring at the villain. Ready to ounce at him if need be. But without him she would lose the children. “Mom get away from him.” “Is that any way to speak to your father Izuku?” “YOU LEFT!” Before the fighting could get any worse Inko stood between them. “My baby, my love.” She turned to All Might and Izuku. “We may not like it but he is their father. And he probably would be useful to returning YN and Daniel safely. We have to sit down and figure this out. For them.” So with great tension, Two rivals sat across a dinner table along with a green haired boy and a troubled mother. All discussing the custody of two individuals that didn’t belong to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 10 🌗🌗

Sometimes YN wished she had made more of an effort to make friends. Yes Daniel was her best and closest friend, but it would be nice to have a girl or boy her own age to talk to. Someone that she could talk about stupid crap with. She tried being friends with Izuku when she and her brother officially moved in with the Midoryia’s, but they never saw her or Daniel as their own people. Izuku never really cared that YN was great at math. The best in her class. That she had a tiny interest in math because the answers were always exact and never had to be debated. He didn’t bother to care that YN liked reading romance and horror stories, that she really liked cheesy murder mystery movies with a twist villain hidden in plain sight. Izuku knew those things about her, but he just wrote it down in his notebook and filed it away like she wasn’t a person. They were no better to Daniel either. He was treated like an incompetant child. Like he was stupid and a baby. Sure he was disabled but he wasn’t incapable of everything. If they bothered talking and treating him like a person they’d see how complex he was. They’d see that he was so talented when he painted, that he could find a focus on the small important details. That Daniel, while he couldn’t understand complex emotions, could create beautiful things. Daniel had a delayed mind, but he loved figuring out puzzles. Daniel loved pinwheels and painted windmills, loved when they spun to beautiful colours. But did they care, no they saw only a child that needed to be coddled and kept away from how beautiful the world could be. YN couldn’t help but tear up as she held her knees to her chest. Why? Why couldn’t Izuku have been the friend she needed when her parents died? Why didn’t she try harder to make friends when she was at public school? Why did she act so introverted and angry at everyone? Just as she was about to cry, YN felt two long arms wrap around her. “Why you sad?” “It’s nothing really. I just… I really miss momma and pop. I really wish they were here.” “....Me too.” So the two hugged tightly. For tonight and every night that will come, they’ll have each other. In another place, a skinny blue haired villain placed a severed hand on his face. Determined to please his master, his father figure, Shigaraki set out to find the two troubled teens. They couldn’t be hidden forever. Besides, AFO should be allowed to see his children. He was their father, by blood. Shigaraki wasn’t an idiot though. He knew that the incident caused a commotion for those hungry for power. Ready to use quirk off the Boy. Shigaraki made sure to send some of his underlings out to gather intel and report whether or not other crimelords had their sights and claws on the teens. He had to be careful not to cause a scene and bring the heroes upon them. As the cold night blew his hair slightly, Shigaraki pondered the situation. Sensei had a wife, and three children? But not all share the same mother. He didn’t raise his three children, but he looked after them. But out of all of them Sensei chose to raise Shigaraki. He felt special. Sensei wanted to be near him. Nonetheless, these two were family. His sorta siblings. And he would bring them home. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 11 🌗🌗

Young Izuku had the foundations to be a great hero. He was kind, string in heart, brave, and a little stupid. Toshinori knew that he would make a fine owner of OFA. And when he trained the boy he saw the makings of a new symbol of peace. Inko was a beautiful woman, even if she was too anxious to notice. He felt this urge to love and protect her. And over the months with her and Izuku, they formed a genuine love. Toshinori was a little concerned at first when he met YN and Daniel though. He did not really understand why they were kept so sheltered and why they were so babied. YN seemed like a capable young woman. But like with Izuku and Inko, the more time he spent near them, the more he felt protective, loving, obsessive. “Ah, good morning young YN. How was your night?” “What do you think. You stole my switchblade.” Inko seemed to bristle a bit at YN’s angry tone. “Sweetie.. We just thought that you could get hurt. It’s for the best. You know that w-” “That you only want the best for me. Yea I heard the same argument over and over again. And each time it’s still bull.” Before either could reprimand her, she stomped to her room slamming the door. Mornings usually weren’t so great. Especially when the night before they had to make big decisions regr=arding her safety. On All Might’s days off he would spend time with the Midoryia’s, sometimes it would go smoothly and sometimes the mood couldn’t surpass a funeral. All Might felt that he should’ve noticed the signs that YN was going to run away sooner. Perhaps then he could have intervened and then the whole family could air out why things were the way they were.

The first signs had to be when YN kept interfering with the way Inko felt was right to take care of poor Daniel. “Come on Daniel, It’s time to go to the learning center.” “Oh sweetie, I forgot to tell you that we pulled Daniel out of the center classes.” “What?” When YN’s face turned, All Might could see that a screaming match would begin, well not really a match considering young YN would be doing all the screaming. He was just here to pick up young Midoryia but he couldn’t help but stop in. “Well it’s just that Daniel learns so much better at a home, and the center is full of so many people that would be mean to him. Besides, he doesn’t really need to be at the center when I can take care of him.” “Yes he does! How is he gonna learn to cook and clean and manage any type of money if you refuse to let him learn!?!” “Daniel’s mind can’t handle all the new information. He might start to panic and his quirk might-” “YOU don’t know a GODDAMN thing about him! About what is best for him! You wanna do what’s best for my brother?! Than STOP treating him like he’s completely incompetent!” Before she could yell another word All Might stepped in with his trademark ‘I AM HERE’ . “Now young YN that’s no way to speak to your foster mother. She just believes that someone more personal should be teaching Daniel these things. That's not so bad is it?” “But-” “IS IT?” “Fine.I’ll get my school work done early so that I can teach Daniel in the afternoon.”

With that the argument was resolved. If only that was the last time she lashed out at them. If only he prevented the biggest fight that broke out between Izuku and YN. “Will you stop pestering him about his quirk?! It obviously makes him uncomfortable!” YN had walked into the room seeing Izuku asking Daniel all sorts of questions about his quirk and how he used it. It would’ve been fine had he stopped at the first two questions, but he kept going on and on. Wouldn’t stop asking about the destructive qualities, or about how his mind sometimes couldn’t comprehend his own quirk. Izuku didn’t notice how uncomfortable Daniel was getting. “I was just asking him some questions!” “You were being a jerk!” Before Izuku could yell at her again, the table and the mirrors broke. Both turned to see Daniel staring furious and scared, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Don’t scream at my sister!” He spoke angrily. He was so brave, so ready to defend his baby sister. Daniel could’ve brought the whole room down, had All Might in his ultimate form not stepped and stopped him. All Might should’ve known not to grab him and held him down. He should’ve known that the constriction made Daniel panic. Made him destroy more things to make it stop. The screaming continued, until YN grabbed her brother and calmed him. They barricaded themselves in her room that night. And in the morning, the three tried to act like it didn’t happen. All Might took the kids out for the day. Celebrating Izuku’s placement in the hero program. The signs were there that day. The signs that they were going to run. That they were going to leave. If only All Might had seen the signs. If only Toshinori hadn’t gotten attached to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 12 🌗🌗

Toshinori was a good man. He wasn’t perfect but he was a good man. He had a moral code and knew right from wrong. Though selfish desires sometimes took his attention more than the moral desires. He knew it was wrong to smother and coddle Daniel and YN, but he couldn’t help wanting to protect them. Even if they didn’t want it. He felt like Izuku, YN, and Daniel were like his children. He felt just as protective over Izuku as he was over YN and Daniel. But he couldn’t coddle him like the other two. He had a duty to Nana to pass on OFA, Izuku had to live up to that power now. And he was so dedicated to being a hero. Toshinori wanted to do right by all the kids. He felt that it was his duty to find his missing kids, and bring them home. Let YN know that he didn’t feel angry that she left. Let Daniel know that he was sorry. So before he could work with his arch enemy, he decided to learn more about the two. So that when they were found again, he could show them that he was ready to be a real mentor figure, a guardian. When he entered YN’s room, it was not what he expected. He thought the sullen looking problem child would have grunge posters, a dirty room, torn up clothes and what not. Imagine his surprise when he saw colourful mini lantern lights strung over the walls. A math book along with several romance and horror storybooks. Her bedspread was a mix of several pillows and a giant comforter. Something that he’s sure would look inviting after a long day. There was a fluffy rug that cushioned his feet. The curtains were dark and cut out all light. On her bookshelf there was a collection of old murder mystery and comedy movies. When he popped one into the small tv player, he felt a stronger connection than before with her. Laughing at the cheesy twists and overacting. She was more than just a quirkless victim. She felt like a daughter to him. Toshinori never understood why he never went into Daniel’s room before. Of course Inko was there. Holding Daniel’s favorite pillow. This room, like the other, was a window into someone that Toshinori never actually knew. For some reason he thought Daniel would have soft light wall colors and some doodles on the wall. But the walls were an earthy dark blue. His blankets were patterned with prints of old paintings. There were canvases of unfinished pieces of art littered around the desk and bed. Notes and papers of unconnected thoughts all tucked away in a drawer. He spotted a framed photo of what he assumed were Daniel’s parents. Hidden under his pillows. When he saw the ceiling, it was a mix of a starry night sky but had handprints all over. In various colors. Touching his own hand to the print, Toshinori felt a connection to the boy. It was like a click happened. He wasn’t just a boy struggling with his developmental disability. Daniel saw the world in colors and was just frustrated that no one could understand those colors. Daniel wasn’t an emotionally compromised person with a violent quirk, he was a boy who wanted to be happy and understood. That day, Toshinori finally felt the wall that was preventing him from really understanding these two was finally lifted. And had he been listening to his moral side he would’ve known to not pursue them. But his selfish side won that fight. With his new understanding came an ugly obsession. A protective instinct to hold and protect them even more. Whilst quirkless YN might be strong and smart, she was too emotional and easy to provoke. Daniel might not be safe out there either. He loses control when people don’t understand. But Toshinori understood now. He would keep his children safe. Izuku, Daniel, and YN. Even if he had to work with the devil. “I’ll bring you home. Everything will be okay. Because I am here.” 🌗🌗

Amazing work as always moon anon! The story has become quite interesting! Its inspiring me to write for platonic AFO, something that I've not talked about for quite a while. Him and well, Erasermic

[itstheimpossibledream]

Thee Stallion

Word Count: 5,467

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Megan The Stallion, Hotch x Emily Prentiss

Summary: I’m trying something new, the writing style, the character type and fandom all a bit different than my usual stories so please lmk what you think ! So this first part is loosely based on Season 3 Episode 17. A Spencer Reaid sexual redemption story of sorts. Spencer’s high school crush grows up to be singer & sex icon Megan thee Stallion but, when a killer sadist and kidnapper enters her circles she turns to Spencer& The BAU  for help. The Team ends up going undercover at a sex party and things ensue. I’m aware it the most random pairing on the planet and it didn’t need to happen.But, this is what I wanted to write so like……..suck it???🤷🏾‍♀️Also a Prentiss and Hotch hook up ??? whaaaaat? I know I know I’m unhinged. Enjoy sluts😜Again Feedback is always welcome and requests are open! Please don’t copy or repost my fics without my permission!

"I don't know. Are you sure your parents aren't going to mind?" Spencer asked, nervously biting his bottom lip. He stepped into the doorway of the large home. It smelled clean, he noted that it didn't have the smells of a normal house, it's scents didn't remind him of family but more of a hotel.Scents of  maids, glass cleaners and overly expensive clothing filled his nostrils. He wasn't judging her but, to say her parents were filthy rich would be an understatement. Freshman year she moved to Las Vegas, and a week ago Mrs. Baird had asked Spencer if he'd mind tutoring her after school. He played it cool in front of his favorite teacher but, inside his heart had skipped for joy. He never actually expected her to ask him to walk her home. Not that he could consider saying no. No one would be looking for him anyway. As the Vegas sun beat down on them his heart soared, even in the silence.This infact was his cloud nine.He just never expected for the hottest girl in school to admit to wanting to spend time with him,much less for an extended period. Obviously, it was a purely platonic mathematical meeting but, still this was more alone time with a girl he wasn't related to than he had had so far in his life. She headed up the stairs and he followed behind her like a lost puppy, trying with all his might not to look up her incredibly short school-uniform-issued skirt,as she ascended. It wasn't necessarily that she was the most popular girl in school, or the fact that she was the hottest that made him crazy about her, as much as it was the fact that she always smiled at him. She was just nice. The day he met her,Mom was having an episode, a bad one and she forgot to wake him up for school. Much to his surprise this day was also her first day of school, she smiled at Spencer in the office and he made sure to set an alarm knowing he couldn't rely on his mother and was never late to school again. He vowed to himself to never miss that smile if he could help it. 

The intricate wooden door swung open into what Spencer could only imagine was the inside of a pepto-bismol bottle, or every girl's dream. The entire room was hot pink and bright, it wasn't what he had pictured for her but then again she was doing many things out of character today. 

"Are you sure your parents are okay with me being in your room?" he asked again, just to be on the safe side. She broke into laughter shooting him a look of astonishment that also somehow managed to make him feel as though he had asked a stupid question. 

"They never care that there are boys in my room. They're never home." she retorted quickly.

"O." Spencer was surprised by the popping sound his lips made as he said it.

"Why?" she followed up quickly "You've never had a girl in your room before?" she took off her sweater, embellished with the school's emblem and sat it on the back of her color coordinated office chair.

"Ummmmm no." He replied honestly .

"Then you should invite me over sometime." She said, crossing the room to sit on her impossibly large bed. 

"O ummm- I don't think that'd be a good idea." he whispered to himself. The room fell silent for a moment and he realized that he had made the moment awkward, she had offered to come to his house, to be in his room and he had turned her down. 

"Your uhhhh-Your room is VERY pink." he managed to get out in order to cover the silence. He scratched the back of his head, a visual declaration of his insecurities manifesting and she doubled over in laughter again, finding herself shockingly both amused and turned on by his honesty. Men weren't honest like that, and definitely not with her. 

"Pretty observant. I guess that's why you're the smartest kid in the state." She winked. He ignored the wink, it probably wasn't intentional. 

"Actually it's just the Tri-state area but......thanks" he trailed off again. This time she didn't try to come up with something to say to make him more comfortable. She allowed him to sit in the silence and shockingly he realized he was less bothered by it. She watched as he fiddled with his hands, the veins in his slender fingers raised to attention. Eventually, She pulled her textbook from her back pack and opened to a problem that she was having trouble with. Spencer watched over her shoulder as she worked through the math on her own. Truthfully, she got farther than he had expected her to. He could tell though that at this part she was stuck, he gave her a second to see if she would catch her mistake.But, he couldn't bare to watch it anymore , reaching down his hand to cover hers, guiding it to write the right numbers. When he leaned in she could smell his cologne, a scent much more mature than that of anyone else  their age. She wanted Spencer bad. He had to be avoiding it not to notice.He was actually the first boy she had had in her room that didn't attempt to get her naked the second the door closed behind them. His adams apple bobbed as he finished the last number and she decided to go for it. There was something about the curve in his lip as he smiled down at his math that made her want to jump his bones. She could tell he wasn't the kind of guy you fake an orgasm for. He was someone who wasn't afraid to work at something until they got it right. 

"Can you sit in this chair for me?" she asked, slowly running her hand over the seat's back.

"sure." he shrugged, taking the book with him, completely unaware of your intentions. You move to the door and lock it, he was probably a virgin,probably wanted a less risky experience.You straddle his right thigh and his eyes immediately snap up to meet you,when you finally lower yourself onto his leg, he can't ignore it anymore. You feel his body tensing up under you,

"Do you want me to stop?" you say looking directly in his eyes. He had never made uninterrupted eye contact with you for this long but you could see the wheels in his head turning. 

"NO!" he says, louder than he had expected to, afterall he was the smartest kid in the entire tri-state area. He knew what you were offering him now. You lean down to kiss him, at first his lips don't move and you wonder if you had completely misjudged him.Then, you feel a hand move to the back of your head as he cradles you to his mouth,pushing back, his tongue fighting for dominance. You slowly began rolling your hips on his leg, leaning in at the top, putting the most pressure on your clit. You could feel him growing hard, and soon enough you were rubbing him through his pants as he exhaled the tiniest moans. You were in love with that sound, and you knew you would do anything he asked you to, as long as he never stopped making it. He was able to lift himself up and move his pants down enough to spring his cock free from his underwear, it was so shockingly confident and unlike him a few minutes prior and you cherished it. You lifted your skirt for him so he could move your underwear to the side and enter you.The entire walk home had felt like foreplay to you anyway, the underwear you were wearing had been soaked through. He looked up at you, eyes heavily lidded and filled with lust. He didn't seem as innocent as he had before entering your room. Swinging your leg to his side so you were fully straddling him, you lowered yourself to him and relished in the intake of breath he had as his tip began exploring your walls.He looked up at you so innocently you couldn't help but moan out his name. 

"Shhh. Shh.We don't want anyone to hear you." He whispered before pulling you in for another kiss. You whine into his mouth as he ruts his hips up into you. His hips move with force but, control he's savoring it, not wanting to cum too soon. It was his first time, you wouldn't have held it against him but, god were you glad he was lasting. You were beginning to unravel ontop of him. His nimble fingers worked open the buttons of your shirt as you bounced on him. He reached a hand inside and you were surprised by the warmth of his long hand as he plamed your breast,working your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“Oh. my god." you breathed over and over again, as he continued pushing into you. The sensation was much more than you were used to,and you grappled with your emotions as he pushed you over the edge. You were loud, there wasn't even an attempt to hold it in. He pulled back from your mouth, a large smile breaking across his face. He was beaming with pride and while you loved to see how happy your orgasm had made him, you were slightly annoyed to learn that even Spencer was not entirely exempt from succumbing to unnecessary male bravado. You could feel him moving inside you, pulsing his dick against your walls as he watched you come down from your high. He brought your face to his, kissing you deeply as you began to roll your hips onto him again. His gaze is dark and you press your hands down on his chest to adjust yourself as you ride him. He loves watching you,everything from the way you flip your hair, to the noises that escape your throat with each thrust. You kiss his neck, working your lips on the space behind his ear, his eyes roll to the back of his head and he whispers a light "Fuck." in response to your action. He began pushing into you fast and quick , he held you up by your hips allowing himself to slide completely in and out of you. When he controlled your hips it allowed him to push up and bottom out, hitting your deepest point. He moans again, his voice hitting a higher pitch than you had expected and you knew what you were doing to him. He pushed into you for the last  time letting out an embarrassingly loud noise as you bounced a bit more, releasing your orgasm all over him. He practically beams up at you , filled with pride. You make out with him again as he slowly softens inside you. 

"Do you ummm-want to finish studying or- I can leave if you...." The confidence of the moments before had evaporated and in its wake was the same timid genius as before. 

"I'd like it if you stayed." you said, peeling your skin from his and removing the rest of your school uniform while changing into your robe.You walked to your bathroom, splashing water on your face and looking at your reflection. You came back from the bathroom to find Spencer dressed, the chair was placed back near the table and the room looked as though nothing had ever happened. He had the book back in his lap and was reading it intently, or maybe he was just staring down at it to avoid making eye contact with you. 

"You can use the bathroom if you want." you smiled at him as you pulled the ties on your robe tighter. 

"I'm okay." he said, barely looking up from the text. There was a bang on the door, that got his attention. He looked at you now, his pupils jumping with fear. The knock hit the door again, stronger this time. 

"I'm coming." she called shakily. She quickly crossed the room and unlocked the door. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 "So that's why they did it?"Derrick said, spinning in his chair again. The bull pen was practically empty but the heat that dripped off of Spencer's lips as he spoke was palpable. 

"He really had no choice." Spencer said furrowing his brow. "American society heralds the high school quarterback as the traditional teen alpha male .What was he supposed to do?" he shrugged, clearing his throat.

" He wasn't supposed to bully you, to embarrass you in front of the whole school. He shouldn't have chosen that.It's not your fault his girlfriend chose you." Derek leaned in, he was good at that, the supportive older brother role. It made him feel safer, it made him feel understood and it gave Derek a window into a part of Spencer's life that he was rarely allowed to see. 

"And that's why you don't want to help her?" Derek asked but it came out as more of a statement. Spencer returned his gaze to his desk while Derek ogled the woman in Hotch's office. 

"Sure had to be good for your ego though."Morgan remarks pleasantly, swinging his chair around again

"Pain and happiness are simply conditions of the ego.Forget the ego. A quote from Laozi."Spencer shrugs, pushing up from his desk. 

"Okay but have you seen her music videos?She twerks Spencer."

"I've seen all of them, the same as she's aware of every achievement and degree I've been honored with. We're friends just......from afar." the corner of Spencer's mouth twitched as he finished and Derek couldn't help but pry more, following him to the coffee stand. 

"Why?" he pushed " Do you think if you get close to her again something else bad will happen?"

"I don't know." his mouth quirked up again while he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Derek was chuckling to himself while stirring his coffee and Spencer knew he could not wait to tell Garcia. 

“What ?” he finally asked unable to ignore Morgan’s chuckles any longer. 

“Just never thought you could handle a sister… much less….” he trailed off.

“Shut up Morgan.” he countered quickly , refusing to make eye contact.

Emily crosses the room towards them, perching atop Morgan’s desk. “You guys got any idea what that’s about ?” She asks motioning towards Hotch’s office.

“Spencer’s friend had some coworkers go missing.” Morgan offers, folding his arms in a fake gesture of jealousy towards Spencer, who rolls his eyes. 

“Ah. What does she do?”Prentiss asks, always the curious one.

“Real-estate.” Spencer quips quickly before shoving his hands into his pockets and moving past them to leave. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed by her, he truly wasn’t. It was more the time in his life that she reminded him of that he wished to escape.His thoughts were silenced  when Hotch announced to the bull pen that they were to meet immediately.

Hotch walked up swiftly behind Prentiss, "Pack and meet back here in 30." Hotch said, throwing the file under his arm. Prentiss looks from Spencer to Derek, and the room becomes silent as they watch Hotch walk away with Megan.

"O We're definitely taking this case." Derek raised his eyebrows and Spencer felt his heartbeat quicken. Okay so he had to be around her again, he could do that. It wasn't as if she was a bad memory. Infact, he associated her with a lot of the positive parts of his teenage years, nothing had really topped losing his virginity. 

"Hey guys-" Prentiss said looking up from the file,"you have no idea how fun this case is gonna be." she said, laughing to herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spencer rapped his pen quickly against the notepad before him. The case actually seemed simple to him, she brought good intel, she practically handed them the unsub their only job was to make a clear, fool proof arrest.Dalton Hughes was wanted for kidnapping and forcing women into sexual slavery. Definitely not their usual work but, she had used Spencer’s name to get FBI attention.And while he attempted to hide it well, Spencer could tell Hotch was more than attracted to her.

 “Reid and Prentiss you’ll be undercover.” Hotch finished 

“ Woahhhh.Wait what?!?!” Spencer exclaimed 

“You brought us this case I assume you wanted to be hands on.” Hotch responds directly.

“ I do- I-I just think Morgan would be less obvious.” he pleaded to deaf ears.

“ Gee thanks.” Derek’s dry humor broke the rest of the room into an uproarious laughter.

“Actually, Tall fit black guy in those circles is either a performer or an athlete-regardless he’s got to much charm. He's  the kind of guy who walks into a room and everyone knows who he is. You guys need someone who can fly under the radar for this.” she says leaning in on the doorframe. Overhearing their meeting wasn’t intentional, she just wanted to make sure he had relayed the case clearly, plus there was only so much space inside the plane. 

“ Great. I’m just the right amount of invisible I guess.” Reid says, faking a smile as he gets up from his seat to pace the aircraft.JJ pats him on the back and you can tell she’s trying to console him but, you know there isn’t much left to console. The rest of the team filed out as you scurried to catch up with Spencer.

“ Did she just profile me?” Morgan asks aloud, a hint of disgust in his voice.

“ Look you know I respect our unspoken bond, and I swear I wouldn’t have come if I had another option.” you say grabbing his arm, pleading for him to look at you. He’d grown a lot since you had last seen him.His muscle tone was becoming as prevalent as his wit.

“ I know.” He admits sternly, his voice is low but sure.

“ I know-I just.I ummmm….” his voice trailed off and you watch as his eyes jumped around, looking everywhere except directly at you. It was impossible for him to be at a loss for words, this silence just meant he wasn’t sure of what he knew he wanted to say. “Can we uhhh-“ he still can’t find the agreeable language before Hotch cuts in. 

“We’re all okay with these assignments then?”he asks. He seemed to accept the assorted responses from the room and returned to his reading of the file. Megan quietly excuses herself to go to the bathroom. 

"Prentiss was right." Rossi smiles to himself, " I do love this case."

"I just don't see why I'm going undercover in a sex ring instead of Derek." Spencer whispers.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Derek shoots back in mock surprise.Both Prentiss and Spencer burst out in laughter, and even Hotch can't help but smile.

"For what it's worth I'd trade spots with you anyday, pretty boy." Morgan says winking at Spencer.

"We need it to be Reid, he and Megan have a good rapport and I want to build on that.The more natural the relationship looks the better."  

"Wait what do you mean relationship?"Prentiss shoots. No one responds, so Prentiss breaks the silence of the jet with an "O.I see......No way.....Well, good for you Reid."

"O my god." Spencer rolls his eyes"can we please just get to L.A. without going through my entire sexual history?"

"Oooooo.So there is a sexual history?" Now, Morgan turns to fully face Reid, clapping him on the back. Prentiss makes a sexual gesture with her hands, and the entire room erupts in laughter again.  

"Stop." Prentiss immediately let's up on the joke at Hotch's command.Everyone attempts to hold it in but, after a second of silence Rossi breaks, and the rest of the group can’t help but follow.  

“You know, I stripped undercover before.” Prentiss cuts in.

“Oh god. How did I know we were going to go back to that.”  Morgan feigns annoyance.

“Good point Emily, you should be paired with Hotch.” Rossi says flippantly.

“That’s fine. We could use Emily’s expertise.” Hotch says, his eyes flaring as he looks down at the file, definitely pretending to read. Clearly it was not fine but, it was more important for him to pretend it was for the sake of the room than not to. Plus, having more agents on the ground was always reassuring. 

The plane begins its landing process and Spencer is lost in thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was calm and collected since the second he stepped off the plane to be honest. It wasn't until she slid her her leg on top of his, showing herself off to the dance floor,as he calmly rested his hand on her knee as if nothing out of the ordinary that he had the time to process what was happening."Okay can you see him?" she whispers into his ear. Ofcourse he can see him, ofcourse he was looking at her. Everyone in the room couldn't help but look at her, she was easily the most beautiful woman in any room she walked into. And while she was not the most famous guest at the party, not by a long shot she was, sure to grab attention that way as well.  Spencer knew that but,he also knew that this was acting, and while he was good at reading other people's behavior he hoped she wouldn’t judge his behavior by the feeling of him growing under her leg. "Are we going to talk to him now?" 

“No ...ummm our job is more to survey. You know keep an eye on everything.” He choked out.

“It’s easier if I have some help.” she smiled. He lightly brushed a finger over the tops of her knees, slowly moving his way up her thigh. It was gentle but, it was teasing enough for her to notice. 

“ I’m not against helping, I just didn’t think you’d need it.” he smiled smugly next to you. 

“What are you smiling about ?” she asked .

“You know you having an orgasm is not part of the assignment right ?”he avoided looking at her as his hand toyed further up the hem of her dress. 

“The assignment was to be realistic. God I thought you were good at school.” she snuck in a kiss on his neck below his ear, like she used to. His breath caught in his throat which he decided to turn into a light cough , thinking that would avoid her detection. 

“This collar means I’m a sub.” she said, grinding her butt onto his lap again. He clears his throat. “Implying that you’re my dominant. If this is going to work you have to seem in control.” she whispered the last part in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. His hand flew to her throat, thumb just lightly pressing its way into her air intake , as he pulled her head towards his. 

“I know what it means.”his voice was low and stern. Infact, the hardest part in prepping for this case was not telling the rest of the group just how much he actually understood the mission. It’s not uncommon for sadists to take interest in the bdsm and kink community but, he wasn’t going to allow himself to fill his coworkers in on his sexual preferences. She looked fragile like this, his hand around her neck, her legs wide for the whole room, as sexual and commanding as she was she had no issue letting him top her, and he thrived on that power. His first industry sex  party was going well as far as he was concerned. She leaned in to kiss him and he let out a disinterested “No.” , looking past her. She didn’t have the time to recover her feelings before he asked “Is there a private room?” 

Sure she had been forward with him, but she was shocked by this admission. Maybe he really had let that young, timid version of himself entirely float away. 

“Yes. down that hall. Any door on the left.” she steadied her voice, trying not to let her excitement be too obvious. Calmly, he pulled his cuff to his mouth “Our suspect is headed to a back room with a woman in an orange dress.” Her eyes shoot to Hotch and Prentiss, who are in their very own form of a compromising position.It was understated and tasteful but, there was no denying that his hand was in her mouth,as she sucked on his fingers.JJ was right by the door immediately headed towards the room,  Spencer slowly got up, and fell in line behind Hotch and Emily kept an eye on the room. In the end, it was JJ’s arrest and Derek and Rossi were outside waiting for her to hand over the perp. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ So what’s your kink?” She asked breaking into a broad smile as a direct result of his uncomfortability. They were supposed to be undercover as strangers,two consenting adults meeting at the party. It’d be naive to pretend as though she never had a crush on Hotch. And even worse for him to deny the attraction as well. For as much time as she had spent with him, it always manages to shock her how he never gave any information unasked. Even as she had spent so much time undercover, she never met anyone in the FBI who would do better with international intelligence than Hotch.

“I don’t have any.”he shrugs crossing his arms across his chest. He hadn’t even taken his jacket off.  She snakes her hand inside his jacket pocket and pulls out a buisness card.

“ Okayyyyy Detective Hotcher” she say, turning the card in her hand as she palms her drink. It was whiskey,he had ordered it for the table , he poured it with such care that a part of you envied the whiskey. To be cared for, to have hands like that pour into you.

“Not so thorough for undercover.” you joke with him

“I’ve been very busy.” he replies with, and you can read into it that he is disappointed in himself. Such a master of perfection but, he couldn’t manage to look comfortable on the obviously expensive couch. You stood infront of him , cocking your head to the side as you undid the belt of your wrap dress. It’s silky material rolled off of your body without hesitation and landed safely on the carpet, revealing the lingerie you had so carefully picked out for this mission. You watch as his eyes move from the dress on the floor to your heels and then trace over your body. He seems incredibly still except for the ticking of his watch. You can tell it was expensive but tasteful, not too large or flashy.He allowed you to walk toward him. You straddled him lightly, lowering yourself down onto him. You felt him exhale as his hands came to your lower back, a warmth spread throughout your body as his hands lightly rubbed your back . You rocked your hips forward and his eyes flashed up to yours. He fit his hands in the crease of your hips as you roll back and forth on his lap. His breath hitches, just enough for you to hear and you smirk knowingly at him.

“ Everyone has a kink agent Hotchner.” His eyes sparkle up at you. You can feel the twinge of interest, skirting his thought. 

“Stop using my real name.” he corrects her sternly, her eyes challenging him 

“So what’s yours ?” He turns his chin up to you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. Your fingers begin working at his tie, and as you roll your hips forward again you can feel his member growing under you.

“ I think that’s convincing enough.” He grunts, trying to remove himself from under you but, you  cradle his hand and look into his eyes as you redirect it to your core.His hands immediately go to work as if he held no validity to his previous statement. You grind down on his fingers a little more.

“ You’re attracting a lot of attention now, I think-“ his whispered pleas were cut off as you bent close to his ear “ I thought I was the on-the-ground-professional in this case? I thought you needed my what was it ‘extensive experience’?” Hotch allowed himself to laugh at the use of a direct quote. 

“So getting me hard in a room full of people proves that?”he retorts quickly.

“No”, she replies calmly continuing to ride his fingers while nonchalantly drawing circles on his chest. 

“ But it does ensure that you’ll think of me the next few times when you’re alone. You will have wished you fucked me.And that’s even better.” She smiled, removing Hotch’s fingers and slowly seating herself next to him. He swung his arm over her shoulder and she brought his fingers to her mouth,placing them on her tongue.He shivered but, watched intently as she sucked on his fingers until he heard Spencer over his ear feed. The subject had headed for a private room, she was aware of the energy change and as Hotch moved towards the perp she, expertly blended into the crowd of other confused onlookers.

Within an hour of interrogation Rossi got him to reveal the location of the girls he was keeping captive. Soon after, Derek led a unit to retrieve them. It wasn’t their flashiest case but, it definitely gave everyone a warm feeling to go home with. Something the team hadn’t had in a long while. They stood in the lobby of the hotel, everyone with their own secrets,everyone trying to pretend that that wasn’t one of their more challenging missions. Everyone seemed different, quieter somehow; how’s that for a team building exercise Spencer found himself thinking.

“I’m uhhh-” he attempted to break the silence.

“Just go Spence!” the group responded in unison, almost comically.

“Wait. wait.” he stopped at Rossi's command and turned back accepting his handshake, the older agent clapped him on the back and smoothly slid a small stack of condoms into his hand. 

“Go get em’ tiger.” he huffed under his breath, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh to himself, as he turned on his heels to leave. 

His heart raced as he entered the elevator, he wanted to shower, plan his outfit, his words; he wanted to tell her how much he wanted her, how much he had held back for years. His keycard slid into the door, he pushed it open and could barely make out the figure in the dark. Instinctively reaching for his gun,it wasn’t until he heard Megan call out his name that he was brought back to safety.

“Jesus, don’t kill me Spencer.”she laughed 

“You could have been an intruder.”he laughed in agreement of how ridiculous it all was. 

“Do most of your intruders dress like this?”She stood up so he could see, she wore a garter clearly visible below her much outgrown private school issued uniform skirt. The heels and his own opened buttoned down shirt completed the look that he was sure would drive him to his grave. 

“Shit.” he exhaled, covering his face with his hand as she closed the door as well as the space between them; extending her hands to his pants. She could feel he was hard through his khakis, god only Spencer could get away with wearing khakis at an industry event.He quickly swatted her hand away, pulling her face to his. He pushes her against the wall, feeling her curves, feeling her warmth , feeling for the first time untouchable since that day in highschool. 

[bookwyrminspiration]

What are your thoughts on Bronte/Fallon? (Or Fintan/Fallon)

will be entirely honest, I don't think about them very frequently, but that does mean going into this I will have a fresh set of eyes to tackle their characters with!

bronte/fallon:

we don't know a lot about fallon, only that he's a Vacker, served on the Original council--with Bronte working as emissary, I believe--and doesn't seem entirely...there, you know? his memeory is fleeting and he doesn't compose himself the way everyone else does. this is attributed to his age, but that's not important right now. But! going back to that council thing! they worked together and have a history spanning longer than most elves have even been alive. there could be a sense of knowing between the two of them, sharing an experience nearly no one else does and an age that separates them from all the inventions and drama of the current era. I mean, I think they both existed before a council even existed, and that's something that's just become normal to everyone else.

bronte has a reputation the same way Fallon does, they've just gone in different directions. Bronte is someone you should avoid because he's cruel and abrasive and doesn't like people, while Fallon is someone you should avoid because he's aloof and has trouble with reality and forgets things. Both of those aren't very accepted in elven society, but both of them paved the future and are respected for that.

if i remember right, Bronte doesn't like Fallon for some unexplained reason, but I'm just going to toss out a possible theory to take into consideration for their relationship. Fallon stepped down from his position to marry and start a family after a thousand or so years of service. I think Bronte may have saw that as weak, a lack of commitment and a softness that he wouldn't want a leader to have. i think he may have been disappointed in Fallon for his decision. My reasoning? Bronte has served a long time on the council, I think longer than Fallon. He started working for the council as an emissary when Serenvale fell to the ogres, and Fallon was still councillor at that time. So, seeing as he is the 19-time great grandparent of Fitz and Biana, estimating elves start the next generation every 100 years or so at the very least, that puts it at around 2100 years ago when Bronte first started working for the government--not necessarily as a councillor. I might be able to figure out that math but I won't do that right now because it's not relevant to the ask more than this, but might do that later just for fun. My point is, 2100 years of service compared to 1000 might make Bronte think he's better than Fallon, more committed and not swayed by familial ties, which would be an interesting dynamic if the two of them ended up together, Bronte engaging in the very thing he hated Fallon for

]Fintan/Fallon:

Oh that's an interesting one! I don't remember when exactly Fintan was serving as a councillor, but if they were serving at the same time, then that opens up so many opportunities. I'll think about him both serving and not serving with Fallon just to postulate about things that could've happened

if Fallon served at the same time as Fintan, there could be a lingering tension on Fintan's end as the council he was on decided that he would need to step down because of his ability. he did agree with this at the time, but we could also go down the route that suppressing his ability for so long made him crack and a little less stable, perhaps in a way that Fallon is as well. there could be something there to explore and their parallels. or he could hold a resentment against Fallon and Fallon alone, going more with the "why did you let me do that to myself" thing, "why didn't you protect me from myself." that could be a good opportunity for something.

if he didn't, then i don't really have a lot to go on aside from a shared public experience of being an ancient member of society who has also served on the council. I don't know when else they could've met or interacted. But this is all also affected by me having very little on Fallon to base this off of--honestly I'm impressed I've gotten this far. Same thing I said with Bronte, there's also rumors about the two of them that are less than positive, so they could bond over that and approach each other with something no one else does, knowing that rumors aren't what they seem. if there's more scenes that have the two of them in common, please let me know and I'd be more than happy to revisit this! I feel like there might be one in Flashback (? whenever Alvar's trial was), but I'm unsure and don't want to drag this on!

to summarize: there's a lot of possibilities for each of those pairs, just a lot of gaps to fill in to try and puzzle them out. there seems to be a lot of drama surrounding all the ancients, so I'd be curious to either meet more and compare them (idk. maybe we just got a weird batch and everyone else is an average person), or learn more about each of them!

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt #19

#19. “Does your life revolve around embarrassing me?”

“Aaron, I need a favor.”

His boss, Rich, catches him as he’s arriving for the day, shuffling a few piles of papers on his desk as he waits for the clock to strike 8. Not a moment before, not a moment after, he thinks. Their shifts are carefully timed, every minute on the clock accounted for. The budget is tight; Aaron’s heard the rumors, questioning of why Ambassador Prentiss needs the amount of security she has. Whispers of cuts have become more and more frequent over the last few weeks. He’s grateful to still have a full schedule of shifts. Others haven’t been as lucky.

“Sir?” Aaron asks as evenly as he can. It’s about to be a long day and from what he’s learned in the months of working there, visits from Ambassador Prentiss’s head of security typically entail some special assignment, one he didn’t sign up for, but is volun-told for. “Is there something you needed?” He knows he shouldn’t ask, but he needs a good letter of recommendation when he ultimately puts in his two weeks sooner rather than later. He has his eyes on something a bit more ambitious, potentially the FBI. He’s already started the grueling application process.

“A big favor.” Rich sounds slightly out of breath, as if he ran the whole way to his office, judging by his red face. He looks annoyed, his face a little pinched, etched with a few more lines than it had the first time they met. Aaron still isn’t quite sure what makes his job so stressful - the Ambassador’s residence runs like clockwork, and now that it’s fall and things have settled down, it’s been relatively quiet.

“I need you to drive to New Haven this morning. I’d ask Harris to do it, but he called off sick and we’re short-staffed already.” It’s the way he says it that Aaron knows he just learned the news too, as if trying to coordinate logistics in his own head.

New Haven. Fuck, Aaron thinks, briefly closing his eyes. What he wants to say is Harris called off for a bachelor party in Ocean City and to find someone else. Instead, he sinks into his desk chair, doing his best to keep his expression neutral. Driving to New Haven can only mean one thing, and while he’s almost certain no one knows what happened over the summer, he can never be too sure. “New Haven, Sir? This morning?” He glances at the calendar on the wall - shit. It’s the coming weekend before Thanksgiving -more traffic is all but a given, and it also means Emily will be home for almost a full week.

Then he remembers he’s scheduled to work doubles most of the holiday week.

Great.

“Ambassador Prentiss called me to her office an hour ago. She’s asking that Emily be driven home from Yale tonight. I don’t know the details, but she was pretty persistent that one of us would go up there and get her. My guess is she got into some kind of trouble, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Aaron tries to hide his annoyance, and more so the slight tug of worry in the pit of his stomach. “What are you talking about? What kind of trouble?” He does the math in his head - it’s  a five hour drive to Connecticut without traffic. There and back will be at least a twelve hour day, if not more.

“I don’t want to speculate, but the last time this happened, she got caught underage in a bar and nearly got arrested. We never found out exactly what happened, but from what I heard, it wasn’t good.”

Aaron grimaces; it’s exactly like Emily’s mother to sweep something like that under the rug and completely ignore the bigger issue at hand. From what he’s learned, it’s been a familiar pattern for years.

“The Ambassador approved time and a half for whoever makes the trip. I know you said you need the -”

“I’ll do it,” Aaron says quickly before he can think too much about the circumstances, wondering just what could be so pressing at such a last minute.  His situation with Emily is complicated, one that should have never even become a thing in the first place. But it did, and even three months after she’d left, she remains at the forefront of his mind most days, a constant reminder of those hot summer nights in mid July.

There’d been nights at his apartment and early mornings in her room; behind closed doors he’d fallen for her. She’d careened into his world completely unexpected, a welcomed change from his familiar pattern of soft-spoken, yet well-intentioned blondes. Emily was the exact opposite. There had been secret meetings tucked amongst the endless gardens, dinners in dive bars and a few trips to nicer restaurants under the city lights when his paycheck allowed.  It was exhilarating and all consuming until it wasn’t, when it all came to a screeching halt a few weeks later.

They haven’t talked since the night before left for New Haven. The night ended with an argument, along with tears (hers) and a ridiculous sense of guilt (his) as he dropped her off just outside the gates of the mansion. Yet she’d been the one to end it, explaining through thinly veiled frustration that it just wouldn’t work, that everything would change and none of this could continue. His pushback had only angered her, his attempts to assure her it could in fact work fell on deaf ears. And as she’d all but fled from his car, it was fear he saw in her face. Fear of possibility for what could be.

All of this, along with their months of silence, means he’s probably the last person she’ll expect to see outside her door. Aaron has a feeling she isn’t quite prepared for what is about to be a very unexpected visit. What he also knows is that neither is he.

…

It’s been awhile since he stepped foot on a college campus, and he doesn’t exactly blend in wearing a full suit and dark sunglasses in a sea of jeans and sweatshirts. He ignores the stares he gathers from the small groups of students all over the campus, finding her building with relative ease.

He nods a thanks to the girl holding the door open, quickening his pace just a little. She gives him a once over, lifting an eyebrow at his attire. “Campus security is the other way, you know. You look a little lost.”

“I’m in the right place,” he retorts quickly, brushing past her and up to the third floor. As he climbs the stairs with a slight burn in his lungs from the exertion, Aaron remembers Emily complaining about that three story climb over the summer, and the memory of her, warm in his arms, almost makes him smile. Almost. But she most likely has no idea he’s coming; it’s impossible to tell what her reaction will be. Anger? Indifference? But by now he’s standing outside her door, and it’s too late to turn back.

Aaron knocks three times, crisp and precise, then waits a few perfunctory moments. No answer. He knocks again, this time a little more insistent, and he hears a soft grunt, a muffled voice from behind the door. What he doesn’t expect is what he sees when the door swings open. A guy, about her age give or take, blinks away the confusion from his eyes, his defenses rising immediately. He’s clearly not expecting visitors, and Aaron, half expecting him to close the door in his face, briefly wonders if he has the right room.

319. It’s right, and this just got significantly more awkward, even as a small bubble of jealousy rises in his throat, one that takes him by surprise. “Who the hell are you?” Aaron asks, instinctively propping the door open with his foot.

“Name’s Rob.” There’s a cigarette in his hand; the room smells like an ashtray and slightly of stale wine, even though it’s the middle of the day. He flicks his eyes over Aaron’s suit and scoffs with an air of arrogance. “What are you, some kind of cop or something?”

“I’m here for -”

“Aaron? What are you doing here?” Emily suddenly pops up behind Rob out of nowhere, looking just as surprised, and slightly embarrassed as realization dawns on her face. “Tell me my mother did not send you here.”

Rob visibly tenses at the mention of the Ambassador. “Your mom’s got the cops chasing you now? I thought you said she wouldn’t find out about  -”

Emily’s cheeks flush as she rolls her eyes, taking a sideways look at Aaron. “He’s not a cop, Rob. He just works for her.”

“Basically the same thing, right? You said she basically had her own secret service. You know this guy?”

“Yeah,” Emily sighs with frustration. “I know him.”

Aaron shifts from foot to foot, staring between them both. Being here suddenly feels invasive; he wishes he would have never said yes to this in the first place. It’s clear nothing has changed between Emily and her mother, and everything has changed between the two of them. She’s clearly moved on. Maybe it’s best to make this as detached as possible - a business transaction, no emotions or feelings. “I’m your ride home. Start packing.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Emily narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Just following orders.” He scans the room - the counter is littered with empty cans and cups, a deck of cards strewn over the desk in a corner, an ashtray full of cigarettes. “How soon do you think you can be ready to leave?”

“Leave? What about tonight?” Rob cuts in. “Brian and Dan got bottle service tonight. I thought you were going to bring that hot friend of yours. Dan wants to meet her.”

“Bottle service?” Aaron says incredulously, wishing he could wipe the smirk off Rob’s face. “You do know she’s underage, right?” He doesn’t have to look at Emily to know that is enough to set her off, and she shoots him a look that could cut glass.

“Listen man,” Rob begins, swaying on his feet. “I don’t know who you are but -”

“I’m  the guy who's going to kick you out-” Aaron begins tersely.

“Just go, Rob. Please just … go.” Emily snaps, presses her fingertips to her eyes, the heat rising to her face like two blood red stains on her cheeks. “I’ll … I’ll call you once I figure this out. Just go without me.”

“Or just ditch your babysitter.” He scoffs but still leans in closer, all but towering over her. Aaron doesn’t miss the way Emily recoils when Rob kisses her cheek. He reminds him of the type of guy who would go from her room straight into another girl’s without a second thought, say all the same things and no one will be the wiser. But the door shuts, leaving them alone for the first time in months. Aaron shoves his hands in his suit pockets and stares out the window as Emily sneers.

“Does your life revolve around embarrassing me now?”  she huffs, looping her hair behind her ear, shoes obnoxiously clunking against the floor as pulls a suitcase from under her bed. “Because if so, you’re doing a real bang-up job.”

“No. My job,” he says, placing emphasis on the word, “is getting you back home like I was ordered to do.”

“So they sent you this time?” She sighs, dumping some empty cups into the trash. “Why am I not surprised?” It’s mid afternoon but she looks exhausted, and Aaron wonders if she even got any sleep at all the night before.

“I’m just following orders,” he says again, following her with his eyes as Emily starts tossing clothes into a bag. There’s no thought to her packing process; she opens drawers and slams them shut, pulling out clothes with a little too much force.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks a little more softly this time, keeping space between them both.

“No.”

As expected.

“You can tell me, you know.”

“Nothing happened,” she says crisply, zipping her suitcase shut. But she doesn’t look at him, which confirms that something definitely happened.

“Then why am I here?”

“Aaron,” Emily says almost teasingly, as if any memory of the last time they spoke has seemingly evaporated from her mind. “This is certainly not the first time my mother has sent one of you up here to come get me for some reason or another. It certainly won’t be the last.”

“Seems like an awful lot of trouble for her to go to.” From the tone of his voice it’s clear he doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“You have met her right? The only person my mother cares about is herself. And her career. She doesn’t care who else is inconvenienced by that.”

He can’t argue with her, and decides to drop it for the time being. There’s a five hour car ride awaiting them; plenty of time to peel her walls down. “If we don’t leave soon we’re going to hit rush hour,” he says patiently, checking his watch. “The sooner we get back, the better.”

She’s quiet for a few minutes, finishing the last of her packing. But finally Emily meets his stare, and for the first time since he arrived, offers a smile. “It’s good to see you, Aaron.”

This time, he almost believes her.

...

“So, who’s your friend?” Aaron asks casually, a half hour into their five hour trip. She’s hardly said a word since taking the passenger seat; her only request was to stop at the gas station for coffee and a pile of sugary candy that she’s started to work her way through. “Rob?”

His question gets the shortest of laughs from Emily as she tips her sunglasses down her nose. “You lasted longer than I thought you would.” Yet she gives nothing else, and he knows he has to push her a little harder.

“He’s kind of an ass,” Aaron says without taking his eyes off the road. “You hang around him a lot?”

“Why?” She challenges, less out of anger rather than amusement. She’s known this question was coming since the minute she saw him standing in the door. “Are you jealous or something?”

He says nothing, only turns his head to stare at her. “Answer my question.”

“Sometimes.” Emily picks at the seam of a bag of peach rings, her eyes on her lap. “You’re not wrong, though, in your assessment.”

“And yet you still hang around him?” He doesn’t bother to hide the distaste in his voice. “Seems like bad news. Is he the reason why I’m here?”

“You’re worried,” she says quietly, crossing and recrossing her legs. “I can tell.”

“Of course I’m worried, Emily. I’m fucking worried to say the least. Can you blame me?”

“You shouldn’t. It’s under control.” Her silence is telling, an indicator that the conversation is over as she pointedly turns to face the window. Aaron swallows in frustration, knowing he pushed a little too far.

Connecticut turns into New York, the miles already starting to blend together in the tense quiet. As the traffic thickens and the SUV comes to a stop, the George Washington bridge looming in the distance, Emily speaks for the first time in more than an hour.

“Aaron?” She says hesitantly, her bottom lip between her teeth with worry. “Can you keep a secret?”

[andypantsx3]

conspire | 4 | confession

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 13,307 words / 5 chapters

summary: Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

tags: romance, reader-insert, fake dating, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Your confusion only grew over the next few weeks.

Shouto continued taking you out on dates, continued to meet you for homework, and--strangely--continued to kiss you even when you were sure no one was around, though he never found another opportunity to put his hands all over you again.

You found yourself more confused than ever, one night when you were doing homework together, curled up in the lounge of the 3-A dorms. You had mostly separate classes but you shared a core curriculum, and Shouto had proved especially helpful on the subject of literature, which predictably was much less your area of expertise than math and the sciences. You supposed there was something to be said for being raised as a rich boy, when he knew every scrap of classical literature inside and out, and you used him to your advantage shamelessly.

“You know, you don’t need to keep doing all this,” you said that night, pausing over a worksheet.

Shouto looked up from his reading curiously. “What?”

“All these dates and stuff,” you said, fidgeting a little under his watchful gaze. “You don’t need to keep taking me out.”

“Do you not like it?” he asked, brow furrowing.

“No, that’s not--it’s nice,” you said, noting something in the margins of your worksheet so you didn’t have to look at his face. “It’s just, it’s not like you need to impress me.”

“I like doing it,” he said in his characteristically straightforward manner. He set his book down and leaned forward. “I like spending the time with you.”

Your face flamed. “I like spending the time with you, too.”

“Then it’s settled,” he announced imperiously, going back to his homework.

You’d settled back down to your worksheet as well, but something kept bothering you, wondering why he continued to find it necessary to spend so much time with you when the semester was winding down and graduation was rapidly approaching. He had only so much time with his own friends left, and as much as you liked the time you were spending together, you knew it wouldn’t last beyond that.

The thought made you a little sad, now that you were focused on it. Fake dating Shouto had been pretty amazing and you loved the time you’d spent in his company, enjoying all the unexpected ways that he flagrantly flauted what was typically thought of as his sexy ice prince persona. Shouto as a person was actually fun to be around -- smart, straightforward, and more awkward and mischievous than he was given credit for. He was unexpectedly hot tempered but was mostly patient with you, and he seemed to find your tendency to ramble soothing rather than annoying, letting you do a lot of the talking when the two of you were together.

You hoped that you would stay friends past graduation, even if you wouldn’t be spending every spare minute together in the interest of keeping up appearances.

A strange feeling followed you through your next date, a warm spring evening when he took you out for cold soba. You couldn't seem to focus on anything other than how much you enjoyed being with him, how easy the conversation was, how adorable he looked with his cheeks stuffed full of noodles. You couldn't stop thinking about how much you wanted this to last, how much you never wanted graduation to come. You realized with some alarm what it all meant when you returned to your dorm and he kissed you stupid outside the door.

You had feelings for him.

Panic gripped you over the next couple of days and you wondered wildly what you should do about this new discovery. The longer you thought about it, the more embarrassed you were to discover that you’d most likely liked him from the beginning, from the moment he’d sat down to your pair project and launched into a thoughtful question. Of course you’d been willing to go along with his little scheme if it meant you could be close to him, and that fucking senior project was hardly the excuse you’d pretended.

You’d been dating a boy you were maybe in love with for months, only none of it was real.

Finally, one evening in late March, as you were putting the finishing touches on a prototype of Shouto’s support item, a plan presented itself to you. You thought you knew what you wanted to do, but you needed advice.

You couldn’t talk to Shouto about this yet, not until you were entirely sure, but there were people close to him who might be willing to volunteer their opinions. You were certain that Shouto had at least let his closest friends in on his little scheme, so you wouldn’t be letting the cat out of the bag if you talked to one of them.

The next afternoon found you at the 3-A dorms again, having ducked Shouto’s quirk training to come find a potential source of help: Momo Yaoyorozu.

Momo was thankfully downstairs when you arrived, in the kitchen putting together an afternoon snack of biscuits and wielding a tin of very expensive looking tea. Her hair was down out of its usual meticulous, high ponytail, and her long hair made her look somehow even more intimidating and queenly than usual.

She caught sight of your nervous figure and gave you a bright smile.

“Hi Y/N,” she chirped and you gave her a little wave. “Shouto’s not here right now.”

You shook your head. “I actually came to see you, if you have a minute? I need help with something.”

She eyed you curiously, then slowly reached for another scoop of tea leaves. “Am I wrong to guess tea would help?”

You nodded, feeling weirdly like a preteen about to have the talk with her mother. “Sure, thank you.”

She pulled out another cup and added more water to the kettle. You watched her gather everything quietly, trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject. She pulled out another biscuit and poured water over the leaves, finally gathering up both cups, gesturing you over to the lounge.

“Did Shouto do something to upset you?” she asked once you’d settled into the loveseat, warm mug in hand. “He can be rather blunt.”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” you said, scratching a fingertip against the ceramic. “It’s just…” you paused, tentative, then decided what the hell. “I have feelings for him.”

Momo shot you a concerned look. “What?”

“I know,” you agreed miserably, fingers tightening on the mug. “It just happened, I didn’t expect--”

“No, wait,” Momo said, something like confusion creasing her delicate brow. “What do you mean you have feelings for him? Isn’t that normal?”

You threw her a wild look. Was it normal to catch feelings for your counterfeit boyfriend? Had she been in a situation like this before?

“Have you fake dated someone before?” you asked.

Momo’s jaw dropped. “Fake dated?”

A suspicion settled over you like a dark cloud. “Momo, has Shouto not told you we’re not really dating?”

Her dark eyes widened. “Shouto told me he’d asked you out on Valentine’s Day. He’d never said that any of it was a ruse. Why ever would he ask you to pretend to date him?”

“To fend off Himari,” you admitted, embarrassed, “among others. He did it because none of those girls would leave him alone on Valentine’s Day. I was with him when Himari confessed to him and he used me as a cover. I think it’s only until graduation, though.”

Momo looked thoughtful. “He never told me. He’s talked often of your time together but he’s never admitted as much to me. Shouto has always had this problem and it seems strange that he’d try this now, of all times. Are you sure he’s only dating you to fend off girls?”

You nodded. What other reason would he have? You were shocked that he hadn’t told her. “I’m sure.”

She looked troubled. “It just doesn’t seem like him.” She paused. “So, you’re saying that he doesn’t have feelings for you...but that you might have feelings for him?”

You cringed and took a bracing sip of your tea, embarrassment welling up inside you. “Yes.”

She stared down into her tea cup. “And you’re wondering what you should do about it.”

You nodded again.

She sighed. “I can’t pretend to know what the best thing to do is in this scenario. I just can’t believe Shouto would do something like this.”

You leaned forward, steeling your nerves. “Momo, I was thinking of telling him. I know he’d like this to go on through graduation but I don’t think I can pretend to date him when I actually really like him. It’s too overwhelming.”

You paused, fighting down an embarrassed blush. “What I came here to ask was if you think he would still be able to be friends with me, after. I know it might be weird for a little bit, but I think he’s kind enough. I just….wanted to confirm, with someone who’s known him for a lot longer.”

She watched you silently for a long moment, her fingers pale against her own tea cup. “Shouto is many things, but intentionally cruel is not one of them. I can’t promise that he wouldn’t hurt your feelings--you know how blunt he can be--but I don’t think he’d want to stop being your friend.”

A little relieved sobbing hiccup went through you and you quickly stuffed your face back into your tea cup to hide it, washing it down with a steadying sip.

“Thanks,” you said when you felt you could finally manage it. “That’s all I really wanted to hear.”

She gave you a fond smile. “Glad I could help.”

You took another sip of tea and Momo followed, the two of you descending into a companionable silence. A sudden thought weighed on you.

“Momo, do you know why Shouto may not have asked you instead? I know you two are close, it seems like he might have been better off asking you for the favor.”

Momo gazed into her cup thoughtfully. “I suppose he could have. I don’t know why he wouldn’t.”

You considered that. Was there some reason Shouto didn’t want to alter the nature of his relationship with Momo? Some reason that could also play into why he didn’t tell her you were fake dating in the first place?

….was Shouto maybe not trying to fend off suitors, but instead trying to make Momo jealous?

You entertained the thought for about thirty seconds, then dismissed it. Shouto wasn’t like that.

Honestly, after getting to know him as well as you had, it was surprising that he’d even schemed up the fake dating thing at all, considering how straightforward he was. It seemed wildly unlikely that if Shouto did have feelings for someone, that he wouldn’t just come out and tell them.

“I do know he spoke very highly of you after that project you did together. That’s why…when he told me he’d asked you out, it just made sense. Shouto doesn’t usually take to people that easily,” Momo said.

You fought down a blush. Maybe that’s why he’d asked you instead of Momo. He liked you enough but you hadn't known each other well, so asking for your help wouldn’t damage the fundamental nature of a close relationship. It made a certain sort of sense, you supposed.

The sound of foot falls just outside distracted you and you sat up as the door creaked open. Momo’s eyes betrayed a note of panic, and you looked over your shoulder to catch sight of Shouto toeing off his boots at the door. He looked a little unkempt and windswept from quirk training -- his hair a little rumpled and his skin glowing with sweat.

Your thoughts instantly dried up. Damn he looked good.

Shouto startled a little at the sight of you camped out with Momo. Then the small, secretive smile he sometimes wore curled the edge of his mouth. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

You panicked. Crap. What was an appropriate response? You and Momo didn't even have anything in common other than Shouto. What would distract from being hand held through a romantic crisis?

“Talking shit about you,” you blurted. “I’m putting together a hit squad for what you did with the ice wave the other week. I did promise murder.”

You watched with satisfaction as Shouto’s eyes narrowed a little. Bingo.

He came stalking over, his manner shifting into something predatory. “I seem to recall coming to a mutually satisfying resolution.”

The tips of your ears went hot and your toes curled in your socks. “Uh, must have slipped my mind.”

A strong arm hooked over your waist from the back of the couch and that scent of mint washed over you, slightly muted by the scent of grass and sweat. Shouto pulled you up into his arms, a stern look on his face. “It seems I’ll have to remind you then. Momo, you’ll have to excuse us.”

He didn’t wait for a response, carrying you over to the staircase to the boy’s dorms. Over one broad shoulder, you could see Momo staring after you, her pink mouth parted in shock. She looked absolutely bewildered, her face a perfect illustration of your own feelings. What did Shouto think he was doing?

It took you hours to come back to this thought, or any thought at all. Shouto spent a long time reminding you of your mutual resolution, kissing you absolutely boneless against the sheets of his bed, and then very sweetly walked you back to your dorm. It was only after you'd shut the door behind him and started up the stairs to your own room that you thought back to the look on Momo’s face. It must have seemed to her that Shouto had no idea of the boundaries of a fake relationship; she must have wondered if you had even been honest with her in the first place.

As hard as it must have been for her to wrap her mind around, it was harder for you.

You didn’t know how or why Shouto was behaving this way with you, if the relationship was truly so casual to him that slipping into the mannerisms of a real relationship meant little, but you knew this meant you had to come clean. Shouto had to know how you really felt about him.

One week and you would finish his support item. One week and you would draw up the courage to tell him everything. One week, and you would break things off with Shouto Todoroki.

[heniareth]

Hi! OC ask for Astala :)

What was your OC's favorite toy/item as a child?

Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?

How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations?

What demon would your OC be most susceptible to and how would the demon best tempt/manipulate them?

How has your OC changed since you created them?

Hey there!! Thank you the ask (and for giving me many questions to expound upon >:), this is gonna get some interesting answers. Since I have only one Dragon Age oc, it's time to talk about Astala Tabris.

What was your OC's favorite toy/item as a child?

Astala had a stuffed mabari toy by the name of Helm when she was little (the name comes from a weird obsession with the verb to helm. She picked that one up from stories her parents told her, which resulted in a four-year old declaring very earnestly she would "helm" whatever activity the family was about to partake in). Helm would patiently watch her train with her mother, give her some much-needed company while both her parents were at work, and embark on grand quests and adventures alongside the other children in the alienage. When Astala was nine, her mother got taken by humans in company of real mabari - big, snarling, muscly things that reached up to her chest. Astala has been afraid of mabari since that day, even of her old companion Helm. At around that time, her father took in his recently deceased sister's daughter, Shianni. At his suggestion, Astala agreed to give Helm to her cousin to help her adjust to her new life. Shianni has kept Helm up to this day.

Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?

She doesn't, or at least not easily. Astala prides herself on being a careful person with a gut instinct that seldomly misleads her. When a course of action does lead to failure, it breaks her image of herself amd her confidence in her ability to keep herself safe. Navigating the human world has imprinted upon her the need to dance the very fine line between self-preservation, standing up for herself and/or for others, and avoiding trouble for the rest of her community. Stumbling in that dance can lead to disastrous consequences, which is exactly what happened after the rescue mission turned slaughter that is her origin story. In retaliation (or so he claims), Rendon Howe purges the alienage. Here's how Astala reacts to that:

"Don't. Don't say you're proud of me." The words had to squeeze through her throat, but she choked them out nonetheless. "Don't you know? The purge you avoided has happened. Because of me."

Adaia Tabris’ face grew hard. “Those men had it coming, Astala. The death of our neighbours lies on the humans, not on you.”

“But they died anyway.” Astala stared at the spirit.

It has happened and nothing can undo it. Astala struggles with that.

How does their education and intelligence - or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary and pronounciation?

Astala has had a decent education (math, reading and writing, history and legends, as well as schooling in the Chant of the Light because Maker forbid the elves make up their own version of the chant). As far as intelligence goes, her strongest suit is interpersonal and analytical intelligence. This factors very much into her way of speaking. She has, in broad terms, two registers; one for people she isn't familiar with, doesn't trust, and/or whose opinion she values highly, and the other one for people she is comfortable and familiar with (her cousins, friends, and after she's gotten to know them, the companions). For the first group of people, she tends to use more complex words and "proper" grammar, mirror their manner of speaking and speak from the back of her throat, with a higher pitch. With people she's comfortable with, she'll shorten sentences, contract or omit words, swear and speak in a deeper pitch out of her chest. Here are two examples to contrast both styles:

Style 1:

“I’m sure milord Urien would like to avoid knowledge of his escapades to reach the high ladies of Denerim,” Astala answered. "And there's no need to make a fuss. If you leave and forget this ever happened, we shall return the courtesy."

Style 2:

"Right? It's terrible! I never knew if I should hide or help her," Astala laughed. "Though she wasn't doing it to guilt anyone. It was work, y'know? It put her on edge and then she'd do laundry until she calmed down."

What demon would your OC be most susceptible to and how would the demon best tempt/manipulate them?

Boy oh boy, this is a tough one. I just went and read up on the different types of demons and there are a handful that could fit. Rage would be one, because Astala carries a lot of grief that manifests itself as rage when she lets it out (she's a warrior with the Champion and Berserker specialization). A Rage demon out to posess her would be best served if it catches her in the middle of battle or another moment where she is full of rage and tempt her to forget or ignore the consequences and implications of killing. A demon embodying Vengeance or Bloodlust might do the trick.

Another demon Astala would be susceptible to is a Fear demon. She is terrified of dying, and if she's backed into a corner without a way out, there's a good chance that she'd allow a demon in in order to survive.

How has your OC changed since you created them?

The most obvious thing that's changed about her is her appearance. In my first playthrough, she looked like this and her name was Estela, not Astala:

This was before I knew what either of her parents looked like, so I based the Warden from the first playthrough on a character I'd already made, an elven paladin called Estelleth. Estelleth is veeery happy-go-lucky and an eternal optimist, but Estela the Warden became a very different person the more I played her. And since her personality had changed so much and I wanted there to be a family resemblance between the Warden and her parents, for the second playthrough I created Astala: new name, new looks, new feel. She basically kicked down my door like "Hey, I'm a different character from the eternal sunshine over there." And who am I to deny somebody their personhood and story (the only drawback to that is that I drown in character I do very little with)

---

Aaaaand there we are!! This was lots of fun XD XD XD Thank you for the questions, for letting me ramble about my girl and for prompting me to flesh her out, because I had no idea about the mabari toy before I set to answer this ask. I hope you enjoyed reading this ^^