#like.. emotions are always the same. where is the 'wait WHAT' effect? where is anger? where is self-reflection?

[katyspersonal]

[evilkennedy]

you're as beautiful as the day i lost you

leon kennedy x reader

warnings: none! this is a lot shorter than I would've liked it to be but I hope y'all enjoy anyway

word count: 1k

summary: you died in raccoon city, or at least that is what leon thought. re4 leon. gender neutral reader, mostly in leon's pov, childhood best friends

Leon felt like he was seeing a ghost, he’d stopped everything he’d been doing, which was certainly a risk in this village but he couldn’t bring himself to care– Not when you were standing in front of him, flashbacks of that night in Raccoon City attacked his senses, the smell of blood permeated his nose, flashes of light and fire overwhelmed his vision, the sight of your eyes being the only thing that was enough to soothe him; the same eyes that visited him both during his nightmares and his dreams. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and it appeared that you were just as stunned as he was, not expecting to see him after six years… Six years that you’d been presumed dead by him. His blue eyes never leave your face, swimming with an unreadable emotion as he collected himself, you must have been doing the same as you lowered your gun before holstering it and taking a few tentative steps toward him.

He couldn’t bring himself to move yet, only mirroring you as he lowered his gun, holstering it as well. The two of you had taken out the Ganados together as though it had been muscle memory despite the years that passed, neither of you having the time to react to the other’s presence until now. You were the first to speak, he watched as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, trembling as you stepped closer once more, tears pooling in your beautiful eyes. He ached to pull you close, to wipe those tears away, but he stood, statuesque as he waited, your voice meeting his ears for the first time in way too long and suddenly he wondered if this was another dream or some cruel side effect of whatever was happening within his body at the moment, another vision or a mirage that tempted him into danger or into the sea like a siren would lure a sailor to their death. 

“It’s been so long, I– Leon, I’m so sorry.” Once he actually began to comprehend what you were saying, your words began spilling out, jumbling together as you stuttered over them in an attempt to explain yourself, Leon didn’t understand how you could be here, how you weren’t six feet under somewhere within the wreckage of what remained of Raccoon City but as his eyes watched your lips move and your chest rise and fall rapidly, he knew this couldn’t have been a dream.

“They– I had to stay dead, I would’ve come to find you, believe me, but they– they told me that you had to think I was dead or else they’d kill you and I couldn’t have that on my conscience. I tried these past six years to find a way to let you know, but they watched me, they didn’t care that we knew each other before or that you were the only person I had–” He was listening, clinging onto every word and he knew that you meant what you were telling him. He was angry, but he could never place that anger on you, not when you were standing here, looking so vulnerable as you poured your heart out to him, tears falling down your cheeks against your will.

He cut you off as he finally moved from the spot where he'd been standing frozen, closing the gap between the two of you easily as his eyes scanned your face, searching for any injuries. He noted the new scars and the way you’d aged slightly, but one thing he was sure of is that you were still you. The same you that used to call him “Lee” and came to his police academy graduation when his parents couldn’t, the same you that had always said it would be the two of you against the rest of the world, and especially the same you that he’d managed to fall in love with. He placed a shaking hand against your cheek and you gasped in response, closing your eyes against the touch. You’d expected him to be angry, not that it had been your choice to leave him in the first place, but you thought it would be easier to deal with than sadness or disappointment, whatever this was, it was much better. Still, you felt as though you didn’t deserve his gentle touch as he wiped a few of your tears away, looking at you for a moment in an attempt to collect his thoughts before speaking.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Leon wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to come out of his mouth, but as you relaxed into his palm, eyebrows furrowing as you kept your eyes closed, lip quivering as a few more tears fell from your lashes, he knew that it was exactly what he needed to say. 

After another moment of hesitation, scared of everything that had been left unsaid, Leon pulled you into an embrace, needing to feel you breathing against him. He rested his nose at the crown of your head, breathing in a scent that he’d previously forgotten, overwhelmed with the need to cry himself now. He refused to do so, instead only pulling you tighter to himself as he whispered your name over and over like a mantra– a prayer. He wasn’t a religious man by any means but he thanked whatever might have been out there that brought you back to him. He had every intention never to let you go again.

He swayed the two of you gently as he rested the back of his hand at the nape of your neck, grabbing at the hair that rested there, feeling grounded as his senses were overwhelmed by you completely. He knew that there was a long way to go, there was a mission to be completed and Ashley still needed to be brought home alive, but with you by his side, he knew that everything would be okay. And he’d do everything in his power to ensure it stayed that way.

a/n: hi!! i hope you enjoyed :) feel free to leave comments to let me know what you think and my requests are open for more leon x reader prompts <3

[iambilliejeanok]

Dirt, Anger and Love.

Naruto x Reader

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, slow build, smut, oral sex, anal play, fingering, cunnilingus, rough penetration.

Summary: You hate Naruto. He’s loud, dirty and incredibly annoying, but the two of you share a secret that you’re too ashamed to acknowledge.

Getting into fights with Naruto was something everyone you were associated with quickly got used to. For someone you’d always considered an idiot, his witty comebacks and smart responses hit nerves deep inside of you that not even your mother could touch, and you hated that he could bother you so much, especially considering how often you tried to avoid him…however, Naruto, kind of took pride in the effect he had on you. He always felt inferior when you spoke to him, the harsh and unfriendly tone you used with him constantly triggering deep rooted emotions that he worked much too hard on tucking away, from the time he graduated from the academy up until now, being a 22 year old famous ninja.

The two of you were called in to have a word with Kakashi-sama. This was the usual after all. The two of you never got on the right foot from the start. There was just something about him that really pissed you off. Growing up, you had heard all kinds of rumors and gossip about him. From your own parents and their friends during your holiday get togethers at home, teachers at school when you easedropped on their conversations behind closed doors as well as people around your age range no matter where you went in the village. And although you had your own personal experience with him, being that you were in the same class at the academy, you were still influenced by the village gossip about him and you did not hide you intolerance towards him. He was certainly quite the nuisance and you didn’t like how he still humored pranks and silly games even at his big ass age of 22.

You sat with your arms tightly crossed under your bosom, your legs crossed too as you tapped your foot against the tiled floors, impatiently waiting for Kakashi to finally call you in. Naruto sat only a few feet away from you, on the the bench opposite the one you sat on, directly facing you, shamelessly evaluating you from head to toe. Damn…she’s really pissed, he thought, catching himself smirking, but he immediately grew serious when you snapped your head in his direction, irritated by the audacity he had to even be staring at you during a time like this. You couldn’t hide the disgust on your face as your eyes scanned the blonde across from you, his white t-shirt, surprisingly still white, the short sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, revealing his well sculptured biceps and forearms. You quickly looked away, wanting to gag at the fact that his arms caught your attention.

Naruto was nothing you fancied. Absolutely not your type. Sighing loudly, you switched legs, still managing to avoid Naruto’s eyes as you looked down at his shoes. Kakashi what the hell are you doing in there! , you wondered, wanting nothing more than to get this meeting over and done with so you could continue on about your day, far, far away from the fox retainer in front of you. His black shoes were covered in dust, and the bandages wrapped around his legs were no longer white, also stained by dirt. As far as you remembered, Naruto was always dirty. He never failed to complete training looking more raggedy than everyone else and the fact that he didn’t even have the decency to dust his shoes to speak with the Hokage reminded you of that annoying ego he had.

You’d only started actually talking to him after the war with Pein, feeling just a slight bit of gratitude towards him for saving the village. But you only pretended to tolerate him. You shifted uncomfortablely where you were seated, trying not to remember your teenage memories with the blonde. Now you were working all too closely with him for the purpose of the chunin exams. He was still loud and insanely good at teaching those kids, as well as other things that you tried not remember. They all loved him, despite his childish behavior, but obviously that’s what kids loved. You couldn’t help but hate him, not only for his childishness, but also because you felt responsible for the way he made you feel. He should not have any place in your heart to piss you off the way he did, but he did. And you felt like he had too much of it, raising your eyebrow and throwing him a dirty look when he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his big, blue eyes dark, holding a message in them that you were absolutely not interested in decoding.

Unfortunately, you both needed to work together to cover for physical and chakra training amongst the new genin and for a moment, you wished he was gone again, so you could go back to having peace and order. He always found a way to drive you crazy with his chaotic work tendencies, such as allowing the kids to leave without cleaning up the field and returning their workout equipments. He hated doing that as a child and in his own words felt like he was punishing the kids by forcing them to do it when they were already exhausted.

This afternoon, you just couldn’t contain the fury building up inside of you. You needed to beat his ass immediately. He hadn’t created the weekly itinerary like he promised he would and even though he had just returned from a long mission, you were dumb enough to believe him when he said he would and of course he used the mission as an excuse for not delivering as you had expected him to. It honestly wasn’t a big deal. The itinerary was only there as an option for the kids that liked to know how their week was planned out. Naruto however, thought he’d simply remind them at the beginning and end of the day of training about their activities for the next day.

It was the sheer disrespect of him not giving two fucks about your itinerary and not showing a lick of remorse when he threw his lame ass excuse at you. The kids still being seated on the grassy field didn’t stop you from kicking him square in the gut, but despite landing the perfect hit, you weren’t satisfied, quickly throwing a fist towards him, but he caught it, twisting your arm and tackling you down to the ground, embarrassing you in front of all the kids with such a simple move. You didn’t expect him to react so soon, and you felt far too humiliated to let it end here, the warmth and heaviness of his large and bulky frame making you feel things you didn’t expect to so quickly. The realization disgusted you and you leaped to action. A few kids ran to report the scene to Shikamaru, the head of the chunin exams, basically your manager, who immediately sent you both to the Hokage after managing to stop you from punching Naruto square in the face with his shadow jutsu, successfully breaking up the fight between the two of you.

Kakashi finally let you in his office, the cool breeze of the ac doing nothing to cool your fury. The old man had the audacity to force you to apologize to Naruto, as though this was all your fault. “You don’t get it Kakashi-sama! This was all apart of his plan, you have to believe me!”, you yelled, the frustration of Kakashi taking his ex- students side driving you to the brink of insanity. Naruto tried his best to keep a straight face. The sick bastard delighted in the fact that everyone truly believed you were just being your usual intolerant self, when he knew that he triggered your violent behavior on purpose. Something about getting a rise out of you gave the blonde shinobe a deep sense of pleasure that actually aroused him, and he was thankful to have tied his jacket around his waist, the sleeves hiding the slowly growing boner in his pants.

“I understand that you find him incredibly annoying, trust me, we all do”, Kakashi said, leaning back in his chair as though he was forced to do this, “, but that’s not an excuse to hit him hard enough to startle the children y/n. Please apologize”. You thought you’d burst into flames right where you stood, huffing as you crossed your arms under your breasts, Naruto smirking again as he looked down at you from the corner of his eye. “Well, I’m waiting”, Kakashi said, raising an eyebrow, patiently waiting for you to make amends. It took everything in you to utter the words, refusing to even face him. “Sorry”, was what you could manage, hoping that it would be good enough for the masked ninja. “Now hug”, he said. You turned on your heels , ready to leave, before turning back to face him. “I’m sorry, what?”, you asked, not sure if you had misheard him. “Maybe then you’ll think twice about fighting next time”, he said, rolling his chair closer to his desk to shovel through some papers, nonchalant towards your stuttered protests. Naruto grinned his usual annoying, grin as he turned his body to face you, “I’ll definitely have to shower after this”, Naruto said,rolling his eyes in annoyance and spreading out his arms, seeming just as uncomfortable as you were to fulfil the Hokages request. Men are sadists. They have to be, you thought, leaning in to give him the quickest hug you could possibly give, feeling absolutely disgusted to have his warm, soft chest pressing against your face. Just when you were about to step back, he wrapped his strong arms around you, and it took you a few seconds to snap out of his warm embrace. He smelled like dirt and cinnamon and you felt a familiar sense of vulnerability and safety in his arms, Naruto wearing a wicked grin you could not see on his face as you squirmed to get out of his hold.

“Oh my gosh!”, you yelled through gritted teeth, turning to look a Kakashi, who seemed more interested in the papers on his desk than on you actually doing what he said was so important to do. He didn’t see what Naruto did, but he looked up from his papers to see what you were fussing about, Naruto simply standing there, his hands in his pockets while you seemed to be on the brink of attacking him once again. He sighed, sitting up to give you his full attention. “Naruto-kun, I don’t want to have to call you in here for pissing people off. Please allow people to avoid you if they must. You may leave”, he said, the blonde making quick hand signs before poofing away. He was gone, but you were still irritable, hoping that you wouldn’t piss Kakashi off any more than you already have. “Y/n, what do I need to do to get you to behave huh? I’m disappointed to be honest. Id expect you to be the more level headed one between the two of you…”. Kakashi went on and on about absolutely nothing that seemed to be a solution to you. Once he finally dismissed you, you stormed out his office, wincing when you accidentally banged the door on your way out, hoping that Kakashi wouldn’t come right after you for doing that, but thankfully, he remained silent.

Sighing out loudly, you wanted nothing more than to quickly head home and take a cool shower and maybe masturbate to relive your current frustration, beginning your walk down the long hallway, completely furious and not in the mood to see Naruto again. Being upset around him always led to trouble, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to ignore the inappropriate memories quickly flooding your head, when you were suddenly yanked into a small room on your right. Startled, you turned around to see Naruto leaning against a large, barrel that reached just below his hips, in the corner of the little walk in closet that no one ever made use of. The only thing in the room was the barrel that Naruto leaned against and a small locker the size of a chest of drawers behind you. “Why the fuck am I in here” you asked, trying not to raise your voice. “Why the fuck are you suddenly picking fights with me”, he asked, standing up straight and crossing his arms across his chest, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief under the dim light the little globe a few inches above his head provided. He was obviously too big to even be in here. He took most of the space with his tall and burly frame. “You’re picking fights with me Naruto”, you replied defensively, wondering just what he was trying to get at. It’s not like you did this on purpose…

He was provoking you, taking a few steps to tower over you. He knew how big he was and always used that to intimidate you when you got too wild, like you did earlier on today and he did not like that. You always treated him like you were superior to him and he knew just how to make you feel the opposite way. “You knew that the itinerary thing would make me so mad!”, you whispered. He just stood there, looking quite serious with his jacket tied around his waist. The white shirt he wore hugging his chest just right. You could smell him as you stood in front of him. Only about two small feet away. You couldn’t believe this, struggling to keep still with your arms folded just below your bust. Naruto kept still, patiently waiting, suppressing his amusement as he watched your frustration fluctuate. His earlier angry face softening as he observed you. He was tall. And you hated having to look up at him and absolutely despised him looking down on you, your tummy doing flips as he slowly neared you, towering over you with each step. He finally stood right against you and you could smell the familiar spicy scent of his hair wash, mixed with his sweat as well as the sun. He smelled just as good as he looked. And you found it comforting, despite your heart pounding inside your vagina. He leaned forward to rest his hands on the locker behind you, his burly frame making you feel tiny as his chest pressed against yours. “The itinerary is not a big deal, why are you making me do stuff that doesn’t matter?”, he casually replied, maintaining a calmness that pissed you off to your core. “I swear to god”, you whispered to yourself. “Do you have any idea how much I fucking hate you”, you practically moaned, and he smiled at that. “I fucking hate you y/n”. “Wow so then why cant you fucking leave me alone!” “I promise you I tried to, but for one reason or the other, you always seem to find a way to bait me, and you know better then any one else, just how much I like to take it ”, he said, pushing you back with his body as he caged you between his arms. You absolutely hated the picture he was trying to paint, furrowing your eyebrows in frustration, but the proximity between the two of you distracted your thoughts and you just couldn’t think of how to respond, lost in his eyes as he leaned closer still. “What’s been bothering you babygirl? You miss me?”, he asked, brushing his lips against your cheek to whisper in your ear. You noticed yourself breathing slightly harder than you were about a minute ago, your breasts pressing against his wide chest as he pulled you closer to him with a big hand on your lower back. Feeling defeated, you accepted your current circumstances, giving into him like you normally did. Time and time again, ever since you only 17. You felt somewhat disgusted with yourself for constantly wanting him to fuck you and you were in denial over how much you had come to rely on moments like this. You hated yourself for feeling addicted tohis touch, and could never bring yourself to admit that you missed his every single day that he was away on missions. He was so good at riling you up like this and he knew what the key to seducing you was. You didn’t know this yourself, but he learnt it the first time the two of you had sex back then, during the reconstruction of the village. Being angry, frustrated and irritated were the emotions Naruto recognized turned you on, and he found out when he saw just how soaked your panties were when he first threatened to fuck you in the weapons room of the Hokage mansion. He found it hot that you would easily submit to him when you were horny and took advantage of that whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Trying to get your thoughts together was not working out for you and you felt like an idiot not being able to respond.

The real reason as to why you hated him so so much started to show and you wanted to slap yourself to try and snap out of it, feeling your arousal soaking your underwear as he trailed feather like kisses against your neck. He was warm, almost hot and you felt him burning you up. “You need me to fuck you?”, he asked, his warm breath fanning your neck as he spoke. “N-no”, you replied, clearing your throat as still fought to get a hold of yourself. “No, I absolutely do not need you inside of me”. Naruto smiled, planting the softest kiss just below your ear, making you shiver. “So is this seriously how you’re going to behave whenever you need my attention?”. You swear he knew exactly what to do with his voice, deep and raspy in your ear. Your clit began to throb. You hated him speaking down on you. How dare he talk to you like a child when he couldn’t even bother to dust his pants off before walking into the Hokages office. You took offense, feeling somewhat ashamed for having him call you out. “I don’t want your attention Naruto. You’re an idiot for not noticing my avoidance”, you replied, tilting your head so he would have better access to your neck. Naruto took the hint, sucking on the spot he just kissed and letting it go through his teeth. You weren’t sure how much longer you could resist him, parting your legs so he could stand in between them. “Well you’re not doing a very good job at avoiding me right now sweet thing”, he said, sucking on another part of your neck before gently nipping it. Biting your lip hard, you wanted him to rip your clothes off and devour you any minute now, but your pride would never allow you to make him see just how right he was. It was already so obvious to him that you needed your secret dose of Uzumaki cock to straighten you out whenever work got hectic between the two of you. And you were awfully embarrassed about that. The last thing you wanted was for him to know that you touched yourself to thoughts of him, especially these last two months, impatiently waiting for his return.

He stood straight again, leaning down to kiss you, but his lips stopped just a few seconds away from yours, and you whimpered unintentionally, making him grin in satisfaction. Feeling his hands fiddling with your shorts, you tried to look down, but he nudged you back up with his head, his lips nearly brushing against yours, and this time, the whimper that left your lips annoyed you. Why was he making you behave like this. He had to be some kind of demon to make you feel so horny. This was unlike you. Girl please, you’ve been letting him dick you down for years now. You’re a natural whore for him…your inner voice spoke, and you grew frustrated, but Naruto sensed the shift in your mood, finally pressing his lips against yours, feeling like he had teased you just enough as he managed to pull your shorts down, letting them pool at your feet, leaving you in just your drenched underwear. His lips against yours felt so heavenly amazing, that you didn’t even bother to kick your shorts off your ankles, moaning into his mouth when you felt him possessively cup your pussy, the smell of your arousal awakening his primal urge to take you right then and there. You were clearly wet enough to lubricated him, but he fought to resist the urge, only kissing you harder, his tongue swirling around yours as he softly grunted into your mouth. It had only been two months since the two of you had played together in his apartment late one night, and he thought you might need a bit of prep before he could fuck your to his hearts desire.

His hand crept into your undies, but you were so lost in the way his soft, velvety lips meshed with yours, that you didn’t notice, softly gasping into the kiss when you felt his finger prodding around your entrance. You were so incredibly wet that he wondered if you really actually needed prep, testing the boundaries without thinking and shoving his middle and ring finger right up your tight, hot, liquid heat, down to the last knuckle, swallowing the sharp moan you let out. He let his fingers rest inside of you, slowly grinding them in deep circles, patiently stretching you out while he kept his tongue in your mouth, muffling your moans until they turned into soft pants. He finally broke the kiss, and when you opened your eyes to see his brows furrowed as though he was frustrated, you thought you’d cum right there, Naruto placing his free hand over your mouth. “Baby, you can’t make too much noise in here, or Kakashi will come find us”, he said, reminding you of where you were. The thought of Kakashi finding Naruto shoving his tongue and fingers inside of you terrified you, a wave of arousal running down your spine making your knees weak and your hips buck against his hand. At this point you needed to cum, shocked by how the idea of getting caught made you feel. Biting you lip, you buried your face in his chest, grabbing his wrist with your hand as he pushed his fingers deeper inside of you. Removing his hand from over your mouth, he immediately placed it into your locs, tugging your head back enough to kiss you once again. “Shhhh”, he warned, trying to catch his breath after breaking the kiss. The stinging stretch of his two fingers deep inside felt amazing, but you needed more, grinding your hips on his hand, Naruto immediately getting the message. He began pumping his fingers in and out of you, massaging your g spot with every stroke, Naruto’s face so close to yours as he continued to hush you, your mouth an o shape as you panted heavily against his lips.

The smell of your sex was a little too intoxicating for him and he wanted his fingers in his mouth, to finally taste your juices. His mouth watered at the thought, and suddenly his throat felt dry. Far too lost in the delicious pleasure his fingers gave you, you didn’t hear the poof beside you, a hand suddenly covering your mouth before Naruto picked up his pace, now desperate to have you cum. His fingers moved fast, the blue eyed ninja far too impatient, desperate to feel you release that liquid he craved all over his hand. Your moans betrayed you, and you lacked the control to suppress them, grateful for the hand that covered your mouth as you whimpered into it, sparks of pleasure shooting through your body as you squirmed against him, his arm holding you firmly around your waist. Your orgasm felt amazing, as usual, and your moans turned into muffled screams , your eyes rolling far back when you felt another orgasm suddenly hit you, endless waves of pleasure making you see stars for a few seconds. Naruto was finally rewarded with the warm gush of liquid he craved. “Fuck, that’s it babygirl”, he groaned, dropping to his knees before you. You were still too high on pleasure to realize someone stood behind you, picking you up and spreading your thighs as wide as the shorts around your ankles would allow. Naruto didn’t waste any time, not wanting your fluids to go to waste, his shadow clone sucking and biting your neck, while he began lapping and drinking up your juices, burying just the tip of his inside of you with every hard lick he gave to clean you up, sucking on your clit and letting it go with a pop before repeating. He always ate you out so aggressively and even thinking about it drenched your undies. He enjoyed how your walls clenched his teasing tongue, finally shoving it inside of you when you stopped squirting, bobbing and twisting his head back and forth before latching onto your clit, swirling his tongue around it and hungrily sucking it, waiting for you to squirt right into mouth again, moaning against you as he greedily ate you out.

“n-naruto”, you whimpered, your arms trapped behind your thighs, barely able to reach forward and grip his head. The way he slowly circled your clit drove you to madness, keeping you on the brink of ecstasy long enough you wanted to cry. “f-fuuuuccckkk!”, you whined, a hand quickly covering your mouth again. He knew how overstimulating his work between your legs was, your clit sensitive from his tortuous tongue, but he needed you to give him what he wanted before he’d let you go, burying two fingers inside of you without warning, immediately pumping and twisting them inside of you. You were now kicking your feet, squirming uncontrollably, as you reached a new height of pleasure that threatened to knock you out, feeling yourself cum hard as you squirted like a water gun, Naruto happily struggling to drink it all up, indulging in the pungent taste of your arousal, softly sucking your clit while at it. For a moment, you lost yourself, Naruto only hoping that your muffled, sexy noises weren’t being heard beyond the door separating you from the hallway. There was no way anyone could walk past and not hear you, but Naruto, even with the help of his clones didn’t sense any chakra singles nearby. He finally pulled away from you, taking your limp, shivering body from the clone behind you to gently place you on the small surface of the lockers, quickly diving in for a kiss to swallow the whimpers you made, recovering from the intense orgasm. Gathering yourself was a struggle, as usual, and he didn’t even get to the best part yet. Your usual post orgasm thoughts crept up on you again. How the hell do I avoid him when he makes me feel like this?, you asked yourself, I don’t think I can handle life without this, omg, why does he do this to me.

You finally opened your eyes, managing to kiss him back with a little more control, enjoying the taste of your arousal on his lips while your body still shuddered with tiny jolts of pleasure against his warm, bulky frame. He was still dressed, breaking the kiss to look at you, Naruto drowning in your hazy brown eyes for a few seconds, your half lidded eyes glistening in complete satisfaction, making him smile. He realised just how much he loved eating you out, and planned on pissing you off as much as he could if it meant you’d let him kneel between your legs and cum on his face as much as he wanted you to. If it meant he could hear you whimper and cry out his name from between your legs, he would annoy you forever. Every beat down you would give him would be worth it. He was so handsome when he smiled at you and you longed to see him smile like this more often, somewhat regretting your earlier attempt at beating his ass. His next words quickly snapped you out of your thoughts, and you swallowed nervously. “That was really fucking sexy, so now I’m gonna fuck you fast and hard, for hitting me earlier on okay ? At least until I feel like I can forgive you for it”. He seemed so casual about it, the clone behind him nearing the two of you. You swallowed again, your pussy clenching painfully on nothing as it anticipated the coming threat. He took a step away from you and you longed to feel his body heat all over you as soon as possible, watching him step aside to strip, while the clone came closer still. He made you feel very nervous, as though he was someone else, making you feel a sense of fear and excitement as to just what they would do to you. He’d never brought out the clones all the other times the two of you had sex and the thought of having two Naruto’s have their way with you made your head spin. Clones were nothing new to you. You knew how to make them yourself and you had a lot of experience with them during battles and training, but having Naruto’s clone touch you, made you feel a little uneasy. He was just as warm as Naruto was and just as real too, and out of curiosity, you reached your hand out touch him back, feeling his well defined abs against your hand, while his calloused palms rub your bare skin as it snuck under your t-shirt, quickly finding its way to your sports bra, impatiently tugging it up and cupping your entire boob, softly squeezing and kneading it as he leaned forward to kiss you.

He felt just as real as the original Naruto and something about it was quite eerie, but that didn’t stop your body from positively reacting to him, softly moaning into the kiss when he caught a nipple between his thumb and index finger, gently rolling and pinching it, placing his free hand on your back to slide you off of the locker, quickly turning you around and bending you over to lay on the cool surface. Looking over your shoulder, you could see the clone drop to his knees behind you, spreading your ass apart with his hands, while the original Naruto finally pulled his trunks down, and you were instantly reminded of just how godly the man was. This was the same idiot that ended the fourth ninja war, and fought with Madara himself. He was gonna fuck you now, and you didn’t care that the Naruto behind you could see you clench and grow wetter at the thought. You didn’t see Naruto staring at your pussy since you were so mesmerized by his huge cock, squirming in want as you imagined the feeling of him penetrating you with it. God you truly missed him. He was so so right. A warm tongue pressing right against your anus making you gasp in shock, forcing you to turn your concentration to the clone on his knees, circling his tongue around the little hole. You weren’t new to any anal play, Naruto had already introduced you that about a year ago, and he was no stranger to tongue and finger fucking the little hole when he wanted to. When he fingered your ass and pussy simultaneously, he’d literally make you cry and you wondered if he was planning on fucking you with his clone like that, accidentally whimpering out loud when you felt his thumb press into your pussy while his tongue dug into your anus. Just how long was he planning on keeping you in here for. You guessed about thirty minutes had already gone by since you were yanked into the room and the anxiety of someone catching viciously fueled your arousal. The real Naruto came to stand beside you, snaking his hand under your hips and in between your legs, searching for your clit, which was all too easy to find considering how swollen it was from his earlier administrations.

Biting down on your arm, you tried to minimize the noises you made, feeling completely hopeless to getting caught as the two men behind you worked on pleasuring you once again, Naruto grinding his bare erection against your hip as he slowly rubbed your clit, while the clone on his knees continued to thrust his tongue inside your ass, switching his thumb for his middle and index finger, slowly pumping them inside of you. You felt yourself melt onto the locker, barely able to keep yourself standing as your knees buckled from the pleasure. As amazing as this felt, you didn’t want to cum like this. “Naruto, please, I just want you inside of me”, you begged ever so softly, trying to suppress your moans. Begging didn’t necessarily work at all times, sometimes, he just wanted to torture you and you wondered if today would be one of those days, but why here in this cramped up storage room. Keeping yourself quiet was damn near impossible anyway, this was just not the right place for him to make you cum like this.

To your pleasant surprised though, the clone behind you disappeared, and all too quickly, Naruto got behind you, easily burying himself as deep inside as your hot, wet walls would allow him. You screamed right into your arm, and Naruto quickly leaned forward to cover your mouth with his hand, pulling you up straight to hold you against his chest, his warmth enveloping you once again as he sunk deeper inside of you. You couldn’t stop whimpering, Naruto simply standing behind you, worried that someone might of heard you scream so loud. He felt his dick pulsing and twitching inside of you, breathing hard against your temple as you hugged and squeezed him just right, clenching him impatiently as he searched the surrounding areas for any chakra signals. “Fuck”, he said, “If you don’t keep yourself quiet, I won’t let you come y/n”, he warned and you whimpered again. He was being so unfair and you wanted to cry , tears stinging your eyes from the burn of the stretch as well as the thought of not being able to finish. You knew he’d really deny you if he had to, it was something he was ruthless about whenever he punished you, but right now, after so long, you didn’t think you could handle it, but you couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering, part from how emotional you were getting, and how full you felt, his dick buried so deep inside of you while standing forcing you onto the tip of your toes. The most fucked up part of this was that Naruto knew just what he was doing to you and what effect his words had, leaning down to whispers in your ear, “Uh uh, don’t whine about it now. After the way you treated me earlier on today, you definitely don’t deserve to cum anyways right?”, he asked, wrapping an arm around you to keep you steady as he pulled halfway out of you only to slam himself all the way back inside of you, biting his lips to muffle his own noises over how you squeezed him like a glove, slowly pulling out of you only to slam himself deeply inside again, moving slowly as he fucked you. You couldn’t respond even if his hand wasnt covering your mouth, shaking your head no as you whimpered and moaned into his hand. You could feel every inch of him massaging your walls and everytime he hit that spot deep inside of you, you felt a shock of pleasure so intense that your thighs began to shake and you felt your tummy tighten, your entire body trembling to accommodate the pleasure. “But you know you feel so good though, I dont think I have it in me to stop”, he moaned, picking up the pace, lifting your feet off the floor with every mind numbing thrust. “Shhhiit baby, how can I deny you after so long, of course you deserve to cum”, he said, and hearing his raspy, deep voice in your ear along with his hard thrusts left you shaking uncontrollably, screaming into his palm as you came hard, Naruto easily holding all your weight with his single arm, not waiting for you to finish as he continued fucking you at a steady pace, ignoring your desperate cries, your climax dripping down his balls and your thighs as it let loose, creating a small puddle between his and yours. It was now his turn to shut his eyes, biting down hard on your neck to muffle his own noises as you clenched every inch of him, your pussy forcing him to cum, Naruto grunting loudly as he unloaded deep inside of you, falling forward with you against the lockers, causing a loud bang as you threatened to suck him dry. He gave you all he had, emptying himself inside of you without worry, knowing that you were already on birth control. He finally left go of your neck, having left a nasty mark that you’d probably have to get treated soon after this. Naruto stayed glued to you, breathing heavily with you as you both shivered, his hand still covering your mouth as you both recovered. He knew it would take a little longer for you, opting to remain lying against your back with your chest pressed on the surface of the lockers.

Suddenly, he heard the door rattle, looking over his shoulder to see it twisting, a few loud knocks making his eyes widen. “Shiiiiitt!!!”, he said, but you were still so tight around him, he wasn’t sure if he could pull out so soon. “Naruto!”, you whispered beneath him, still shivering and panting despite the person on the other end trying to come in. Your heart was beating just as fast as it was when you came and you could feel Naruto’s pounding against your back. He was grateful for locking the door earlier on, hoping that if the two of you stayed quiet enough, the person at the door would just go away, but he was wrong. “I know you’re in there, get the fuck out now!”, yelled the voice of the man. “Shit, is that Kiba- kun?”, you suspected, hearing the loud sniffs of a dog below the door. “Naruto, y/n, what the fuck are yall doing in there!”, he yelled. “Fuck, if he knows its us hen he probably knows what we’re doing in here”, Naruto whispered, “Y/n, you’ve gotta fucking let go of me”, he said, but your vagina didn’t budge. “I can’t”, you replied, your eyes wide in fear, wondering just why something like this would happen to you right now of all times. “Fuck, we gotta get out of hear”, he said, lifting you up as he stood straight. A shadow clone suddenly popping up beside the two of you and you wondered just where he found the strength to summon one, watching him pull up Naruto’s pants behind him, before he came around to pull up yours as best as he could, just as frantic as the two of you were. Your shorts didn’t make it past your butt, but Naruto could at least cover his, since a dick wasn’t rammed up behind him. The clone quickly gathered his jacket on the floor, using it to wipe up the puddle from your love making infront of you.

The door cracked open as Kiba shoved his way in, but he was surprised to see no one hiding in the closet, only smelling the strong scent of the two of you and if he wasn’t mistaken, sex, looking down to see Akamaru sniffing a particular spot on the floor. Kiba couldn’t believe it, or at least his brain refused to accept the fact that you and Naruto were actually fucking in the storage room in the fucking hallway of the hokage mansion. There was just no way that made sense and for a moment, he doubted his own nose, turning around to walk out the room, looking down at the floor in shock and disbelief as he walked down the hallway. “Was it a ghost?”, Shino asked when he saw the look on Kiba’s face. Kiba looked up at Shino, not sure exactly what to tell him.

You and Naruto made it out of there in the nick of time, finding yourselfs in the bedroom of his apartment. If it was not for Naruto’s freakish stamina, he wouldn’t of been able to teleport the two of you back to his place. “That was close”, he sighed, chuckling behind you, still stuck inside of you. Kiba had scared you back to your senses and you found Naruto’s light taking of the situation awfully irritating. “Oh my gosh! Why the fuck did you think it was a good idea to do this in there huh? Why couldn’t you just bring us here instead!”, you said, forcing Naruto to keep up with you as you walked over to the bed, noticing the sunsetting from the tall window on the opposite side of the bed. “What?”, Naruto asked, finding your irritation amusing, as he lifted you up to sit down with you in the bed, scooting upwards until he was able to prop himself against the pillows. “I wasn’t too sure if you’d be able to wait that long”, he teased, and you felt yourself heating up with embarrassment, remembering just how horny you were before this. “Now I’m stuck here with you”, you sighed, your heart skipping a beat when you remembered why you were stuck to him to begin with. “What are we gonna do about this?”, you asked worriedly, awkwardly shifting in his lap to feel if you were finally lose enough to have him pull out, but it still didn’t work, Naruto placing his hands on you waist and pulling you back towards him, making you fall against his chest, his arms a wrapping around you as he snuggled his face into your neck. “First of all, you need to calm down, i think we will be fine if we just relax a little”, he said reassuringly, and as much as you wanted to argue with him, you realised that you really had no reason to. He was right after all and his body felt so good behind you. You suddenly felt exhausted as you leaned all your weight back into him, Naruto running his hand along your tummy. “I’m so tired”, you said, Naruto lifting up his knees to grab your shorts, lifting them down your thighs and past your knees. You kicked your shoes off, your shorts following soon after and you felt a little more comfortable, Naruto tugging down on his own pants beneath you. “Why don’t you just relax and take a nap if you want to? I promise I’ll take you home as soon as we’re able to separate”, he said, holding you tight against him as he flipped y’all over to the side. The thought of being away from him again made you feel sad. You wanted spend the entire night with him and wake up in his arms tomorrow, but a small voice in your head ridiculed the idea and you closed your eyes, hoping that this would all make sense one day.

Dirty Angry Horny

[aerasx]

bang chan...daddy and corruption kink?

🌙 ❜ ─ sweetheart

Authors note. Probably the most real thing I’ve read today let’s talk about how he would let all his stress out on you! Feel free to send more asks in! Requests always open.

Bangchan. x Fem!reader

Wc. 500-ish

» Bangchan with a daddy and corruption kink

Warnings. Bang Chan is readers first time. (Implied)Let me know if I miss anything. Dirty talk, daddy kink, Chan taking his anger out on you,corruption. Pwp, p in v. Pet names.

MINORS DNI 18+

Not Proof Read

Genre. Smut

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK ❤️

Maybe it was the tension in the room that made him so angry. Though you figure that probably wasn’t it. you were looking for a reason to believe Chan wasn’t angry at you. You look so nervous trying to stay off his bad side. Nails tugging at the end of your lightly colored skirt. Face having a worried expression of your eyebrows knitted together and a cute pout tugging at the ends of your lips.

To be fair he wasn’t angry at you he was angry at JYP for overworking the whole group. However when Chan is mad it often reflects the emotion in said room he happen to be in. Often rubbing off on others.

Being the loving caring girlfriend you where you did offer to take care of him and try to take any stress he might be feeling off of him, but apparently your vision of helping Chan relax was not the same as his.

How could he resist? The way your skirt would slightly touch your thighs when you got up to walk over to him. The way you look at him with a concern innocent expression on your face. He just had to ruin you.

He usually wasn’t this rough. Most of the time he takes his time with you slowly coaxing you closer and closer prioritizing your pleasure over his own. However that wasn’t the case this time.

He didn’t take his time preparing you or slowly taking of you clothes. Ripping of the skirt as soon as your back hit the bed. Cute white panties adorned with a pink bow at the top. Not taking time to slowly slide his fingers in. Your face contorting at the roughness. You couldn’t handle it not with his hands abusing your cunt. Trying to use your hands to slow him down

Bangchan smiles as he can see you struggling against his strong hands. Though he still complies with your wishes nothing wanting more than to replace his hand with his cock.

You whimper as Bangchan enters your walls cock stretching you out so much, the slight burn you had quickly goes away and gets replaced with ultimate pleasure.

“ good girl” Chan grunts out as you suck him in.

“Mmh” you nod your head already being to far along, just waiting for Chan to move.

“ use your words princess” he knows that pet names like that have an effect on you.

“ yes daddy just for you” you whimper. Bucking your hips up wanting to gain some friction.

Bangchan grants your wishes as he starts thrusting at the steady pace waiting for you to get used to him.

No matter how many times you took him you couldn’t get adjusted to him. Pussy always so tight no matter what. Chan felt like he was taking your virginity all over again.

He wraps your legs around his waist to be able to hit deeper inside you. Angelina himself to hit your sweet spot. He knew your body like the back of his hand.

He picks up his pace, seeing the way your face contorts into pleasure. He couldn’t imagine someone who looks so innocent doing something so lewd. It only made him harder.

He reaches his hand down to rub your clit he knows the way you tighten around him when he does it. He could feel your walls pulsating around his cock. Signaling that you where close. He angels his hips once more to have your reach your release.

“ d-Daddy I’m coming” you stutter juices dripping down to the base of his cock.

He doesn’t stop their though wanting to cum inside you first before stopping. Walls still pulsating around his he finishes quickly. Pulling out to see his cum leak out of you.

He looks down at you and your fucked out form before getting up again too clean you up.

[notwarriorswiki]

I liked your perspective on Leafpool's life. I was wondering in your rewrite, are Squirrelflight and Leapool's lives different before they die/become deputy?

Updating designs for them while I'm at it. I like my short and stubby Squirrel and long and lanky Leaf.

Their lives are mostly the same, though there are a few notable changes.

Leafpool, encouraged by StarClan and also fearing for her future, lies to Squirrelflight and claims StarClan has told her she is barren and will never be able to conceive. It's ultimately the thing that really breaks Squirrelflight and has her accept the kits, believing it to be a gift from StarClan so her and Brambleclaw can have a family AND help save her sister. This lie comes back to haunt Leafpool.

Squirrelflight learns she is actually pregnant during the Po12 arc, a major shock for her as, well, she thought she couldn't conceive. Brambleclaw is ecstatic to have another litter and Lionblaze, Hollyleaf, and Jayfeather are excited to be older siblings.

Squirrelflight confronts Leafpool about her pregnancy in private, Leafpool admitting she lied about Squirrelflight's fertility so she'd take the kits. They fight and argue, Leafpool losing yet another person she loves and is close with because of what StarClan told her to do.

Secretly Hollyleaf and Jayfeather overhear their conversation, learning the secret of their parentage. They tell Lionblaze, who is incredibly angry but is forced to bottle it up by Jayfeather as to not throw anything off with the prophecy.

Bottling it up isn't good though. Jay, Lion, and Holly are all bitter and awkward around Leafpool, which hurts Leaf more.

Lionblaze, in his anger, spills the secret of their parentage at the gathering and absolutely blows up things. Brambleclaw breaks up with Squirrelflight. Squirrelflight, despite her anger still with her sister, stands at her side and reaffirms it. This is where they reconcile, and they continue to be close as ever.

Squirrelflight gives birth before The Great Battle. Despite no longer being a medicine cat, Leafpool demands to help her sister in her birth, and Jayfeather doesn't have the strength to turn her away when he feels her raw emotions practically smothering him. This time Leafpool is helping Squirrelflight kit, the opposite of that fateful snowy day.

Brambleclaw is killed by Hawkfrost in the battle.

Leafpool dies in The Great Battle due to her injuries, collapsing after finally guiding her sister and her young kits to safety away from the battle. Leafpool's life was a tragedy. However, in her dying breath, she helps protect the cat and her kits who protected her and her kits. Squirrelflight is distraught and grieves her sister.

Squirrelflight is made deputy post Great Battle by the newly named Hollystar, who wishes to have the cat she loved and admired so much at her side. Mother/Daughter deputy/leader combo!

Small side effect of Squirrelflight's promotion to deputy is that because she lost her mate, is now in a leader position at a stressful time, and is trying to be there for Jay, Lion, and Holly still - all while juggling her own grief of losing both her sister and mate so suddenly, she really struggles sitting still in the nursery and just being with Alderkit and Sparkkit as it makes her antsy. Spark holds this against her later.

So yeah not much completely different. Leafpool dies much earlier, and Squirrelflight continues to live while navigating life without the two cats she relied upon most. It hurts, but she has her kits and the rest of her clan, who she loves dearly.

Leafpool's main difference is never actually getting her medicine cat title back before getting killed. Technically her title is Warrior when she dies just to add salt to the wound. She doesn't have a mate waiting for her in StarClan ever. Leafpool's true happiness lies with her sister, kits, and family, not in romance, nor the stars she dedicated her life to. It was always with the people who were right next to her since the beginning. Sure she resides in StarClan, but Leafpool is a rather active wanderer who still shares much disdain for the cats who play God in StarClan, knowing truly that they are all one in the same, no cat greater than the other, not even in The Dark Forest.

[theambitiouswoman]

Do you have any tips on dealing with anger?

I tend to act on my anger ,for example I end up saying really hurtful things to others which just makes the situation worse

I actually get this question a lot, either online or my friends. I used to have the same problem, and just finished giving a friend advice on this yesterday.

Before, I was very reactive and lived in a triggered state. Would speak without thinking, or better argue/react. Eventually, I realized that just by having the wrong reaction, even if I would have been right- made me wrong. How we handle situations matters more than the situation itself (there are obviously exceptions to this i.e. an argument with an abusive partner etc.) I started practicing by, and this is advice is always give, removing myself from the situation immediately. breathe in and breathe out and process the whole scenario in my head, along with the outcome i wanted to achieve. Sometimes, returning to those conversations would take me a day or two to process. other times, i would consciously decide to wait to make sure i was right or wrong. Some experiences that i wasn't exposed to or had experience with, i would wait a second time for the situation to happen before i reacted. I knew if i felt upset about it more than once, that something was wrong and needed to communicate it.

I also imprinted in my mind, how much control the other person would have over me if i couldn't control my own emotions. Absolutely no one was going to upset/hurt me, then also know they had the upper hand/power over me. No way, no ma'am.

Emotional control is very powerful. It makes you a very powerful person. Also speaks to your level of confidence. You don't win when you lose control. You also don't want to ruin relationships.

It really depends on the situation that upsets us, but we are not always right just because we are upset. Its not that your feelings aren't valid, but sometimes they come from something else. It could even come down to us misunderstanding.

In short, I would recommend you start practicing removing yourself from situations where you feel like you are going to explode on someone. Take time to process your thoughts and decide on the outcome you want to achieve regarding that situation. Recommend you repeating to yourself "i control my feelings, my feelings don't control me."

Other ways you can learn to manage your emotions:

Identify your emotions: The first step in controlling your emotions is to identify what you are feeling. Try to name your emotions and recognize their intensity.

Practice mindfulness: Mindfulness involves paying attention to the present moment without judgment. It can help you to become more aware of your emotions and to respond to them in a healthy way.

Use cognitive restructuring: Cognitive restructuring involves changing negative or irrational thoughts into positive or rational ones. This can help you to manage your emotions more effectively.

Practice self-care: Taking care of yourself physically, emotionally, and mentally can help you to manage your emotions. Eat a healthy diet, exercise regularly, get enough sleep, and make time for relaxation.

Develop healthy coping mechanisms: Identify healthy ways to cope with your emotions, such as talking to a friend, practicing relaxation techniques, or engaging in a hobby.

The next time you are in the middle of a discussion and start feeling angry, try these methods instead:

Walk away: If you feel yourself becoming angry, take a break from the conversation. Take a few deep breaths, go for a walk, or do something that helps you relax.

Listen actively: Listen to the other person's point of view without interrupting or becoming defensive. Try to understand their perspective and feelings.

Use "I" statements: Use "I" statements to express how you feel instead of blaming or accusing the other person. For example, say "I feel hurt when you do this" instead of "You always do this and it's annoying."

Practice empathy: Put yourself in the other person's shoes and try to understand their feelings and perspective.

Avoid personal attacks: Avoid personal attacks or name-calling. Stick to the issue at hand and focus on finding a solution.

Take responsibility for your emotions: Take responsibility for your emotions and reactions. Acknowledge your feelings and express them in a healthy way.

[honeysmokedham]

Listen Before I Go || Declan & Nora

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Saol Eile, the waterfall PARTIES: Declan and Nora SUMMARY: The young pair confess all under a starry sky. WARNINGS: Implied wrpsice at the end.

Her first love. Her first kiss. Her forever. Far from the town where banshees screamed. 

“Declan is going to die in front of you. That’s how it works. You are going to love him, and he will die because of it.”

The words floated in the echo chamber of her mind, they bounced into every corner of her thoughts, repeating themselves into a chorus. Regan's voice overlapped itself, again and again and again. It was loud, drowning out every bit of reason and critical thinking that should have covered it. Upon the departure of that horribly unreasonable conversation with Regan, Hamstring decided to deal with her large, complicated feelings the way she always did. She walked. The steady beat of her boots against the stone streets of Saol Eile were the percussion accompaniment to the chorus in her head. 

Hours passed at the same steady pace, the urge to turn into a bear or cast illusions gripped her in a chokehold. Her instincts to rage like the monster she knew herself to be were an overwhelming call to arms. But eventually, the percussion of her boots turned from a war march and into a calm beat. The calmness brought a new understanding. Hamstring realized she knew why she'd allowed Regan to make her so angry. It was two very simple and effective things. Hamstring should be embarrassed for allowing them to cause an unbanshee-like emotional charge from her. The first was she would do the same. During her time here, Hamstring had realized just had similar the two of them are. Both emotionally stunted in ways she didn’t have the emotional intelligence to explain. If the roles had been reversed, and it had been Hamstring stewing in jealousy she would pull out a defense mechanism to deter the assumed competition, just as Regan had. 

The second, Regan had put into words what Hamstring had been trying to deny this whole time. She loved Declan. It was new and exhilarating, it was the sensation of flies swarming in her belly and the reason her heart tried to escape its prison when she saw him. Hamstring had run home, the anger replaced by confusion. It was a viper twisting around her chest, constructing her breath and refusing her brain a chance to understand what this realization could mean. Hamstring ran back, fighting the viper with every sharp intake of breath. If Regan could place the emotion she felt, even if it was to deter Hamstring and send her away, then Regan would know what to do next. 

Cliodhna’s chair, near the fragrant scent of the bone broth, and in good view of her prized kneecap collection, was empty. That was for the best. Regan and Hamstring would get along better without her there. The door to Regan’s room was wide open, but Hamstring went in anyway. Empty. As well as the bathrooms and the closet. Hamstring made the quick trip to the medical center where Regan worked to find it empty. This was inconceivable. Regan was always around. Now that Hamstring needed her, where was she? 

The wait lasted for hours. Cliodhna’s chair remained empty. Regan’s room uninhabited. Hamstring tried to sleep. The next morning the wait continued. Hamstring festered in the thoughts, they drowned her. They clawed up her spine and twisted in her gut. Where was Regan? The day passed in the state of pace, and Hamstring realized something new. She couldn’t wait for Regan to tell her what to do. Regan probably didn’t know herself. She could decide what she wanted to do. So Hamstring ran. 

The night above the Irish moor was clear, the twinkle of stars a melody that Hamstring thought she could understand because her heart wanted to sing with them. Above her, Dubhe, the great bear in the sky, smiled down at her. The only encouragement she needed. It was a relief when she found Declan at the waterfall. It was late, much later than their normal meeting. There was a moment during her flight that she considered he may have gone home already. “Declan.” This time, she smiled. For once since the years she’d left modeling, Hamstring allowed her face to crack open with a true and genuine smile. “There is something I need to tell you.” Her heart mustn’t have gotten the memo that they were done running. It pounded against her chest. 

“I’m not a banshee.” This true, she had decided, needed to come first. Hamstring was sure she loved Declan. But how could he know if he felt the same if she never told him the truth. “I’m a bugbear. It’s not a fae, I don’t think. I mean I can lie. I’m not lying now. But I’m a bugbear. My name is Nora. I hid in Regan’s luggage to bring her back to Wicked’s Rest. I’ve been lying this whole time.” 

Declan spent the morning writing out his last will and testament, if it could even be considered such a thing. In reality, it was a letter to his sister– hidden with a nymph he knew he could trust. He didn’t know where she was, but figured that if fate had anything to say about it, it would find her and explain what had happened to him. The anger he felt had seeped through the letter, ink smudged from the corner of his hand as he wrote and rewrote things too quickly. You left me here to die. She got to live, and I get to die. Would he have died for her, anyway? Had she come back without the girl in tow? Instead of finding Hamstring among his purpose, would his blood be spilt for the one he shared blood with? 

His mind wandered for hours on end, the ceiling of his room beginning to warp into nefarious beings– open-mouthed monsters, teeth slipping through flesh. Every time he closed his eyes, he was reminded of the cu-sith he and his sister had found, only to be drained of blood within moments of his mother’s view. Ní cheanglaímidd sin féin. Declan had cried that night with his sister’s hand in his. He had seen the worry built behind the mask she’d been forced to construct out of purpose and integrity. She always slipped with him, and it didn’t seem as though she’d be the only one. 

The falls were the only place that Declan could put his mind to rest. It was where he could be alone, especially as the moon hung high in the sky, craters visible from where he stood beneath the wash of cold water. He traced his fingers through the surface of the water, memorizing the feeling. It was what he would hold onto when his final moments would find him– he would focus on this place. He would think of Hamstring, too. Of the way her hair curled behind her ears, the not-quite smile she would wear when in his presence, and the expression she would wear when she was not. (It wasn’t always at the falls that he caught glimpses of her– It was just where they could be.) 

As his mind shifted from the horrors bestowed upon him in the quiet of his bedroom to the calming factors of what Hamstring could bring him, he swore he could hear her voice. He opened his eyes, surprised to see moonlight bouncing off the shoulders of the brunette girl that most days, he was sure he fashioned out of thin air. Of course she would be his downfall, but she’d been so much more than that, too. The smile she wore stirred something in him– he felt as though he were seeing something secret, the kind of thing that he’d need to hold onto and never tell anyone about. Declan leaned up out of the water, ready to ask what she was doing here, but his mouth promptly snapped shut at her admission. 

I’m not a banshee. 

She continued, and Declan felt as though splinters had rosen over his skin, poking and prodding. Wasn’t this what he had wanted? Hadn’t he hoped that in some divine twist of fate, that she would come to him like this? He stared at her for a moment, mind swarming with the words Nora and bugbear. Nora, he had heard before– not with her face, but with others. Bugbear, well, that was something new. Something uncategorized. If he were anyone else different, then perhaps he would have felt anger among the splinters. 

Instead, there was a sick sense of relief. 

If she was not a banshee, and her name was not Hamstring, and she had come in the ways of sneaking into Regan’s luggage, then she was not his fated end. The idea of death wasn’t what scared him in that moment. Instead, it was the idea that she would have to see him die. 

“You know,” Declan stammered out, cool-guy facade broken completely, lip trembling. “She told you?” It was the only reason he could rationalize that she would tell him the truth now. She knew he was going to die, and that it would be because of her ‘activation,’ that it would happen. He cleared his throat, smoothing a hand through his hair, pads of his fingers digging into the back of his neck as he stood across from Ham– no, Nora. “You were lying, you are not a banshee, but a…” his eyebrows furrowed, continuing, “bugbear.” The relief he felt was overwhelming. 

As much as he’d been prepared to die, Declan did not want to die. Though, he knew the truth of Nora’s words could never be revealed, for if they were, it would mean her untimely death. Regan’s, too, as he was sure she knew there’d been lies the whole time. Had she been trying to warn him? “That’s…” He cleared his throat, “fantastic, actually.” The laugh that erupted from his throat sounded disjointed, but it echoed around them as he reached up to hold his head in his hands, pads of his fingers planted on either side. “Nora– this,” he shook his head, “that’s your name. Nora. It’s beautiful, you know.” Where there should have been anger was nothing but relief, because the life that he had envisioned away from this place– it could come true with this news. 

She told you. “Regan?” The question bubbled out of Nora in a burst of confusion. Regan had told Nora two truths and a lie. Truth: Nora was not listening to Regan. What was the point? All they did was talk in circles. An ouroboros of their own creation, a creature of endless negative feedback consumed too consumed by its own ideas that nothing could break the pattern. Lie: Declan was going to die. That was a common scare tactic used by Regan to get her way. Childish. A toddler throwing herself on the ground, coming up with any lie to get out of the chore of returning home. Nora would judge Regan for it next time she saw her. Maybe she would pull Regan’s hair for it, in the way of children fighting. An chéad scread. If it had been so real, why couldn’t she translate the word into something Nora would understand? They would fight in the playground, then Nora would forgive Regan, because Regan did give Nora an immeasurable truth. Truth: Nora loved Delcan. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, her heart tapping, pounding, attacking her rib cage to jump out and to him.

Across from her, backdropped by the waterfall that was the cover of their story, she could smell Declan’s sweat. Nervousness, confusion, relief, acceptance, a drive-in double feature of emotions played across his face. And she was on the edge of her seat, waiting for the plot twist into a horror movie. But no fear came. “Not Hamstring.” She agreed. He was taking this well. Better than she deserved for lying for so long. Better than the secret movie she played in her mind, made of her imagination that she would never admit to anyone. The one where Declan knew everything and still chose to kiss her. “It’s alright.” Because there were days she would fight people for saying her name. But coming from Declan? Said in his welcoming tone, mixed with his Irish accent, it made Nora want to be Nora.

“There are no bears in Ireland.” It was a fact Nora had stated multiple times since coming here. The loss of her two favorite animals had weighed heavily on her. The comforting twist of pockets full of snakes, and the day dream that she wasn’t the only bear to human in existence. Gone with a change of location. “I want you to understand what bugbear means.” This was where the fear would hit, the bubble would pop, he’d condemn her. If Declan felt the way she did, it was because she was a banshee. Not a bear. Not a monster. 

“Don’t be scared.” How many times had she said that to someone before transforming? Her clothes dropped to the ground around her. How many people heard it as a statement when it was a plea. A cry to belong. Don’t fear me, I just want to be seen, loved and accepted. I, like everyone else, just want to be known. For a monster, to be known is a sin. It’s creeping out of the shadows and revealing every grotesque detail that makes people cringe away. It was the sound of screams while a person ran away, leaving her alone in a ringing silence. “It’s just me.” 

A rip. A tear. A pop. The bear was there. Bigger than the average bear. Red eyes. Claws too long. The only one of her kind. Sitting in front of the man of her dreams. Waiting for him to scream, to cry, to yell, to kick. Waiting for the moment her heart got its wish. It would beat its way out of her chest to him, and with access to it in his hands he would crush it. He would rip it in shreds and remind her that monsters aren’t worthy of anything but the fear she lived her whole life languishing in. Careful. Quietly. Fearfully, Nora waited. 

“Regan,” Declan affirmed with a nod of his head. Nora seemed confused by her name, as if it hadn’t been Regan at all, but it should’ve been, right? It was clear that the white haired woman cared deeply for Nora, just as he did. What other reason would Nora have to come to him now? Was it on her own accord? Honesty prevailing over the frightening realization that she may die her should she not activate while his blood spilled beneath her feet? 

But Declan thought back to the moments in the clinic. Before he had seen her face, he had heard her scream. It did not matter that it had been swallowed down, because it had happened regardless. He knew he was going to die regardless of this revelation, but for the first time in a long time, Declan felt hope. Hope, that maybe the scream had been for somebody else. He was delusional in thinking so, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. As he looked at Nora, he wanted it to be true. He envisioned a life out of this place, had for as long as he could remember. He tried to paint a picture of where his sister had gone off to— was she in the west? In the east? How far had she gotten until she realized there was nowhere else left to run? That fate would slip its hand into hers no matter the circumstance? Had she prevailed in the way that he hoped he and Nora would prevail and triumph over that same double edged sword? Fate was both a friend and foe in this situation, as it could lean either way. Either fate could be kind to the two of them, or it could be incredibly cruel. He hoped for the former. 

“There aren’t…?” It wasn’t something he had ever really thought about; never needed to. But it was clear that the reason Nora brought this up was because it meant something. Declan watched her carefully, head tilting to the side. “I would love to know.” He meant it. Sincerity leaked from him in every sense of the word. His gaze softened as he watched Nora, not quite understanding the show he was about to witness, but bracing himself for it regardless. 

The water felt cold around him, boring into his muscle, bone, and sinew. He felt a new electricity crackle through his nerve endings as he witnessed Nora unclothe. Declan swallowed the breath he nearly let out, simply nodding at Nora’s instruction. He wouldn’t be scared. How could he be afraid of her? She was Nora, after all. The girl who had filled his days with a brightness he never could have imagined. They were fated, after all, and it was wrong to be afraid of fate, no matter the outcome. But oh god, did he hope that fate would be kind to them. Or, at least to her. 

From Nora, a white bear sprouted. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t at least surprised, but the term bugbear meant more sense in that moment than it had before. Or, at least, the bear part. He saw no bugs. He had anticipated swarms of them, but all that stood in front of him from where he waded in the water was a white coat and red eyes, knowingly peering at him. Declan wasn’t afraid of Nora, he realized. In fact, it was the opposite. Elation filled him as he moved from where he stood in the water to the shore. The bear that had replaced Nora was far larger than he. She towered over him in a way that should’ve made him fearful, but instead… there was something else. A relief, perhaps. That she could protect herself in this world. 

Carefully, Declan extended a hand, fingers threading through the fur between Nora’s eyes. It was soft. That was the first thing he had noticed. He flattened his hand then, scratching the spot between her eyes before dropping it back to his side. “How could I ever be afraid of you?” The lopsided grin he wore stayed put as he took a small step back. “You’re quite the being, aren’t you? But… I do have to ask… where are the bugs?” That still confused him. Why wouldn’t she just be a bear? What did bugs have to do with anything? “Can you understand me in that form?” 

The fear never came. There was no bursting bubble that cascaded in screams and terror. Declan’s scent never even fluctuated to a moment of fear at seeing a bear appear before him. He still smelled like pure unscared Declan. The scent of a moving waterfall, sunny days lounging in the grass, crushed grass and twigs, safe and warm. The kind of smell Nora wanted to tell everything to, to smell at start and end of the day. To bask in, just thankful she got to be there. He’d moved closer, his hand reaching into her fur, the two of them, the bear and the boy standing in this picture-perfect moment. How could I ever be afraid of you?

A twist. A twhip. A zip. She was Nora again, human, with Declan’s hand in her hair. Goosebumps trailed up her spine, realizing a new self consciousness that only standing in front of someone whose opinion you care about, naked and exposed, can bring about. But why? Her eyes were locked on his, searching for any kind of descent. This was too good to be true, maybe he could make his fear, or something of the ilk. But in his eyes she found acceptance, kindness, and was that happiness? Maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way she did. Better yet, now she could tell him, because there were no longer lies standing between the two of them.

“There are no bugs.” The statement was accompanied by a half shrug. “If there are bugs, then I don’t know them. I’ve never met anyone like me before.” That could be expanded on later. Maybe. There was a lot more she needed to say, and a life story drop about her history with bugbears didn’t fit the mood. “Regan,” Nora began, searching for how she wanted to say this. She failed, diverting someplace else. “Regan told me some lie that you were going to die. She tells me someone is going to die any time she’s upset with me.” Another half shrug. “I was,” A pause, chewing over the right word to use. That was harder than she’d like to admit, standing naked in front of her crush, where words seemed to slip out of grasp. “I was angry. That she said that about you.”

Declan blinked, and suddenly the bear was gone. His fingers were strewn through her hair. He didn’t mention that the name Hamstring had been confusing, too. He figured it for a nickname, even if it had fit her. Nora was far superior, even if he had learned to love her with the former moniker. “That must be lonely.” Those like him were rare within the aos sí. Most were slated to serve their purpose and nothing more, and so they were often separated for the sake of preventing escapees. Or rather, that’s what his mother had told him. She kept him on a tight leash, and Nora appearing had been the only time it’d been extended, though he knew why. Would his mother know that he had felt hope like this? That his purpose dwindled, crushed by the adoration he held for the girl in front of him? If she did know, he would have been dead already. 

As Nora spoke, Declan’s heart sank. If that were true of Regan, then he’d need to have a word with her. To use death as a way to keep someone at arm’s reach was childish, even he knew that. But he knew that Regan was not lying when she held his own death between her lips, splayed out for Nora to turn away from. “Nora…” He gave her a half-smile that insisted she understand there’d been no lie. “It… makes sense that you didn’t believe her, being a bugbear and not a banshee.” He dropped his hand from the side of her face to lean down, collecting her t-shirt she had thrown to the ground. He handed it over to her. “Regan wasn’t lying to you. The activation is in need of a sacrifice, and I am… was... your sacrifice.” That wasn’t the case anymore, was it? They could leave this place. Surely if Nora were found out, she would be held responsible. Declan extended his hand for her to choose to take, not wanting to breach her personal space should the news of this truth harm their relationship. “I would’ve died for you, if you gave me the chance, but you…” He let out a sigh, looking down at the ground. “I learned what it felt like to be alive with you, and I know that this must be something you’ve heard in movies and the like, but it’s true. I’ve lived a dozen lifetimes with you in the short weeks you’ve been here.” Finally, he looked up to meet her gaze. “It’s not something I ever thought possible. You make it easy to live, Nora.” 

That must have been lonely. And in his voice, Nora heard the twinge of recognition. The unstated I’ve been too. Nora wanted to know it all. They’d spent a lot of their time at the falls talking, Nora had heard silly stories of his childhood, and Nora had told him tales of days with her friends. They had been sharing their lives with each other, but Nora wanted to know those times he hid so deep that he couldn’t share because she wanted to share those with him. She wanted life to be fully painted canvas shared between them, their past painted out fully so they could create their future on top of it. “Have you been lonely, too?” 

She liked the way he said her name. It was selfish and silly. It sent shivers down her spine. Nora was disappointed when his hand left her hair, their contact a point of electricity in her veins. Her t-shirt handed back, she slid it on. Her heart sank as he spoke, as she learned what he was supposed to be. His hand held to her as he declared a fate too tragic to consider. “I don’t want you to die for me.” She grabbed his hand, once again, accepting his invitation into his world. “I want you to live with me, I mean,” The words had tumbled from her mouth, pollen in the breeze, bees in new spring. “I want to live a dozen more lifetimes with you. I don’t know how this works, but I know that when I’m with you I feel…” She struggled, once again, words her enemy refusing to be her friend. “I think I love you. I think this feeling.” She raised his hand to her chest, over her beating heart. It danced for him. Livelier than any dance she’d ever done before. “I think this is love. If they want you to die, then we’ll leave. We can leave right now.” 

Declan hadn’t brought up his sister to Nora as of yet, but as he stood over her and her question echoed between them, he felt it a necessary subject to breach. “I had– have a sister. She left two years ago. Since then, things haven’t been the same.” The smile he wore faltered. He did not like to think of her and where she might be. If she’d been activated due to fate’s hand in a number of other ways, or if she was still running from her purpose. He thought of her as a coward then, but as he stood across from Nora now, hoping that he, too, would have a chance to leave this place behind, he understood her. He no longer pitied her inability to understand the world around them. His anger disintegrated, leading way to something kinder. Had he been in her shoes, he would have left, too. “It was lonely, up until you came along.” Honesty coated his tongue and tone as he watched her. 

Nora grabbed his hand and he looked down at it. He committed the feeling of her fingers sliding through his to memory– the softness of her palm, the way her hand was so small in his. He squeezed it tightly, nodding in agreement with her statement. “I don’t want to die, Nora. I don’t think I ever did. I thought it was what was right, and I…” He swallowed hard, a soft chuckle bubbling up his throat. “Wanted you to become what you were meant to.” But Nora was not a banshee, and she was already something, built out of tightropes and high ledges. It was clear she lived life on the edge; something that Declan had never been able to do. But she was giving him a chance, now. Her words sat heavy over him. Not yet a plastic tarp submerged beneath water, but something of the like. He felt as though he might suffocate beneath the hope that she brought with those words. Instead, nodded, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. “At least we’re in the same boat, yeah? I dunno how this works either, but I know that when I’m with you, every day I’ve lived up to this point has felt as though it were for one reason or another.” Nora brought hope with her. The kind that looped through his ribcage. All of the fear, all of the muck, it disappeared the moment love graced his ears. 

His hand hovered over her heart at her insistence, and just as he expected, it jumped beneath his palm. Another soft chuckle rose from him as he slid that hand, too, to cup her face. Now, with either palm overtop of her cheeks, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead softly, eyes closed. “Nora, I would love to leave with you. I would love to love you outside of this place.” He pulled back, still close, committing everything about her to memory, from the piercings to the deep, brown eyes that, until weeks ago, seemed to have a lifeless edge to them. There was nothing but life in them now, he realized. Declan wanted to have hope, wanted to succumb to the feeling that Nora brought with her, but at the back of his mind, he knew that his fate had been sealed. But maybe, just maybe, Nora would untie that red string and tie it to her own finger instead of the hilt of a blade. Perhaps it would not be the sharp edge of silver to guide across his throat, but the adoration he’d wear in every moment he spent with her. “I don’t want you to get hurt in the process. If I leave, if you leave– they will come after us. My mother will come after us.” His mother wouldn’t fall victim to another runaway child, and there was little that he could do to sway others in the manner that his sister had been able to. “But I want to, Nora. I want to leave with you.” 

Layers of insecurities, secrets, and mysteries were shedding between them. Leaving them raw and vulnerable to each other. Nora had never felt so alive. There was a thrum vibrating from her, a thrill, a magnet that pulled her to Declan and sparked her. He spoke about his sister, the pain at the edge of his words, the loss. “I was lonely before you too.” There was more she wanted to say, there was a world of conversations. A galaxy of stories to know. She wanted to know more about his sister, about how he dealt with the loneliness, she wanted to kiss the hurt in his heart and promise him he’d never be alone again. But those were conversations for later. They would have a lifetime to color in the painting of their life. 

Declan’s words were pastel flowers. They dotted the canvas in a melody of bright colors. They bloomed before her, a harmony of creation. Sprouts emerged and the sun sang. How could anyone think Declan’s purpose was to die when he was so grounded in life? The kiss on her forehead sent vines down her spine and flowers rooted inside of her, for Declan, from Declan,  to Declan. “Dying doesn’t suit you, not now, not for years.” Not until they were old and gray, their painting complete, a shining monument to every moment they’d shared. They would figure it out together.  

“Then let them come.” Nora jutted her chin, ever the image of defiance. “I’ll take you home with me. To Wicked’s Rest. If they come for us, they will meet the most loyal and protective people of their life. They’ll meet me and I’ll protect you. I promise I won’t let them kill you.” And she meant it. Conviction burned in her. He was her person. She could feel her canvas irreparably changed to include him in it forever. “You’ll be safe. You’ll love Wicked’s Rest. You’ll be able to choose who you want to be there. No one will ask you to die for them, and if they do I’ll break their kneecaps.” Nora’s hand never removed from Declan’s. She wanted to be closer, to hold him, to reassure him that this would be fine. This would work. 

“Everyone there will be excited to meet you. Van is my best friend, she misses me. She’ll teach you about phone games, she loves them. She’s always telling me to play Honkai Star Rail. And there’s Thea, she’s sad, but she pretends not to be. She’s got a great sense of smell and is worried she smells bad. You can’t tell her she smells bad or she’ll cry. She’s kind, and accepting, and she’ll like you for who you are. Wynne is here, you haven’t seen them, but they don’t want to be here. They tried to tell me that they kill people here, but I’m not good at listening. They were supposed to be a sacrifice too, it’s what they were raised to be. They got out. You guys will have that in common. Then there is Teddy, they are sunshine wrapped in glitter. They’ll spoil you. They spoil everyone they meet. I told them I’d never had a mom before, and they said they’d be mine. They love me, and I love them. And they’ll love you. And then Emilio.” The words were spewing out of Nora, a swell of love and compassion for the people she left behind as she realized this wasn’t a pick and choose. She could have her cake and eat it too. The love of her life in the town full of people who loved her. “Emilio is grumpy and tense and always angry. But he’ll like you. He’ll like that you survived. He’ll like that you got me to come home. He’ll like that you care about me. He won’t show it. He’ll never say it. He’s… I wish he was my real dad.” These were thoughts she’d never have told anyone else, they would have cracked her cool-girl persona and left her ashamed. But there was no shame between her and Declan. Only the want to share. “I think he’s cared about me more than anyone else ever has. He’s always welcomed me. He’s always made space for me. He’s never asked me to be anyone I’m not and I think he’s a major part of what makes Wicked’s Rest home.”

The words were a waterfall, she wanted him to be excited about this. She wanted to show him more of what she loved, and how she loved it. She wanted him to see this portrait of her life and think that he could belong there. Want to belong there. To know that he could be safe with these people, and not here waiting to die. She wanted to roadmap their future because she knew from this point on it wasn’t her future. It was theirs. “I live in a crypt. But we don’t have to. We could get an apartment. Something real. My friends don’t like the crypt anyway. They don’t get it. It was the first place that was ever mine. Without anyone to tell me what to do. I could come and go. But..”  Her words trailed off, she didn’t want to be alone. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to make choices with him. “Leave with me. I’ll protect you. I promise I will and it will be the best thing I could do with my life.” 

Neither he nor Nora had to be lonely anymore. They could have each other from this moment onward, if he believed in it. If he believed in her. Oh god, how he wanted to believe in her. Declan hadn’t believed in anything but fate for so long, and here came Nora, a knife thrust into his ribcage in a different manner. She spoiled him with what if’s— a distant siren song. He wanted to believe in her. He chose to believe in her, no matter the fear that grew roots inward and upward. Nora spoke of defiance and of love, and he wanted to follow suit, so as she explained the people that he would love, he tried to imagine them. He tried to think of how he would interact with them, of how they would come to care for him. If they would come to care for him. Would they see him as the reason Nora stayed for too long? Had those same people been worried for her safety all the while she was here? He hoped so, because Nora deserved people who cared. As much as he loved her (and he did, oh god did he love her), he knew that the people outside of him— those who had seen Nora grow into the young woman she was today, those were the people that mattered most. 

She spoke of them in a way that he hadn’t ever heard anyone speak of another person. There was so much hatred, so much… soot and mold growing over the aos sí that it hadn’t occurred to him that love could look like this; light on its feet and a myriad of colors. He wanted to love the way that Nora loved, and he thought that because he loved her, he would be able to. 

Declan traced the space beneath Nora’s eyes with his thumbs, smile ever growing as she went on about the people who were waiting for her to go home. “I would love to meet them. With you, for you.” He wanted to learn how to love the people who loved Nora, and he thought that because they loved her, then they must be good because Nora was good. Despite the lies about who she was and what she was, she was good, and he couldn’t find it in himself to hold it against her. Banshee or not, he loved her. He would have loved her should she have screamed for him in a manner that would cause her to find a purpose, and he loved her even now, bear and all. “I want to go home with you, Nora. I want to see your friends, I want to experience this… place— Wicked’s Rest.” The name felt strange to say. What kind of place could be so wicked but have something so magnificent come out of it? 

“A crypt?” He chuckled at that, giving her a firm nod. “It seems fitting, considering…” He gestured between them, dropping his hands from her face. He gathered her hands in his and pressed them to his own chest, still cold from the water he’d just been submerged in. “We could stay there, if it’s yours. I’d love anything that’s yours. You have to know that.” He traced circles into the palms of her hands, eyes never leaving hers. “To be loved by you, what a feeling. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt, Nora.” Perhaps he was too naive, perhaps the bubble they had created out of half-truths and half-lies would keep them protected. Or maybe it would pop, and Nora would scream in anguish. But he had to try. He couldn’t give up, not on Nora. He wanted to try for her, to escape, to live out the life that she saw for them. That he could see for her. He imagined what it would be like to wake up next to her, the sun curling at the crown of her head. He wondered if they would find another waterfall, or if they would find something else; something distant from the memories they created here. All he knew was he wanted to create more. He wanted to love Nora for as long as she would let him. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, searching her face for something, anything that might tell him now was not the time. He wanted now to be the time so badly— wanted to be able to trace his lips as the moon pulled itself high into the sky and recall what it felt like to love her in a way that was physical. 

“Yes.” Just the question left her breathless. Anticipation shivered in the air between them until there was nothing separating them. “Kiss me.” 

Nora would save Declan’s life, treasuring it as the precious gift it was. Maybe she’d save Regan’s, if Regan decided to leave. Wynne would leave, safe and sound. This place would be a distant memory, sometimes whispered about at night, while Declan ruminated on his past. Nora would hold him. Remind him he was safe. She’d always protect him. Each day would be held in vigil for the banshees coming until time seeped between the cracks of now and then. One day they would forget to look over their shoulder because they’d be too caught in each other’s presence. Teddy’s family dinner would include an extra seat, next to Nora. They’d exchange knowing looks with each other while listening to Teddy’s grand words, and Emilio’s grumbles. Wynne and Ariadne would go on a double-date picnic with them. Ariadne would introduce him to American candy, while Wynne told him things they’d found surprising about non-cult life. Nora’s arm would curl around him as they listened. Van would cry when she met him, because she was happy to have them there. They’d paint on Regan’s apartment walls together while Van talked about the latest game that came out. They’d walk the graveyard at night, hand in hand, Babadook trailing behind. They’d talk about the day they’d had, and their plans for the future until those plans became reality. 

Nora could see all of this in Declan’s eyes. In his touch. In the way that his lips brushed against hers. The feel of their skin touching. Each brush an illumination, a prayer, a hope for the future. She wanted it all. Sunset to sunrise, day after day, she wanted the moments shared and memories made. There, alone together under the stars. Her first love. Her first kiss. Her forever. Far from the town where banshees screamed. 

[silvokrent]

Ennui - 3

ennui /ɒnˈwiː/ n. a gripping listlessness or melancholy caused by boredom; depression.

Anger did a lot to deaden a person to their surroundings. At least, that was Flint’s impression when he finally noticed where his pacing had taken him.

It said more about his current emotional state than he’d care to admit, that he’d wandered this way on reflex. His first impulse was to keep walking, let the fatigue gradually creep in until he no longer had the energy to feel.

Does this conversation have a point?

What are you doing here?

“The hell if I know,” Flint sighed, as he pushed open the door, and let himself in.

But he needed answers.

Personally, Flint had always liked the café, if for no other reason than how obnoxiously its rustic vibe clashed with the rest of Sunyshore’s aesthetic. The barrels and weathered floorboards wouldn’t have looked out of place somewhere pastoral—Solaceon came to mind—but the effect was jarring. He suspected the dissonance had been somewhat intentional.

The Houndoom lounging below the window barely reacted to Flint’s presence, beyond a cursory glance in his direction. Not all that surprising, given the gray streaks on his muzzle.

“It’s been a while, Dante.” The Houndoom dropped his chin back onto his paws, a cracked eye tracking Flint’s movements without any particular sense of urgency. “I don’t suppose your owner’s around?”

Dante yawned, and flicked his barbed tail in the direction of the kitchen.

Right on cue. The mahogany door swung on its hinges as a familiar figure stepped past, a stack of plates balanced (a bit precariously) in his arms. “We’re still eighty-six on the half-and-half,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Just toss the heavy cream and milk in a pitcher for now. We can update the inventory later—”

“I’ll take a coffee, when you have a second,” Flint said.

The Proprietor’s head whipped around.

Flint leaned against the bar counter. “Glad to see the hairline’s still receding, old man.”

“‘Old man.’” The Proprietor let out a huff, as he strode behind the bar and began shelving the dishes. “I’m sixty-two, not dead, you insolent punk. They haven’t buried me yet.”

“Give it time.”

They held each other’s gaze.

The Proprietor was the first to cave. His lip twitched, before widening into a grin. “It’s good to see you, Flint.”

“Same.”

“What was it you said, a coffee?” He ducked below the counter. The telltale clink of ceramic was followed by him resurfacing a moment later, a mug in hand. “I’ve got a pot brewing in the back. Let me guess, the usual?” He didn’t bother waiting for a response as he retreated toward the kitchen. “Give me a second. Sit, pull up a chair. You know the drill.”

Flint waited until he disappeared into the back, before his smile wavered. The stool creaked as he sank onto it. Without the fear of an audience, Flint capitulated, and buried his face in his arms.

He was almost tempted to ask that he substitute the coffee for something stronger. Almost.

“Sorry for the wait.” Only when the sandwich and chips were slid across the counter did Flint grudgingly resurface. A carafe was unceremoniously plunked next to it, before the Proprietor wove around the counter.

“I didn’t forget about you.” Dante hauled himself up onto his haunches as a plate was set in front of him. “The brisket’s already seared, so don’t get any ideas. I’m not wasting another fire extinguisher because you like your meat charred.”

The Houndoom made a low, gravelly noise of assent, as he pulled the plate closer with his paws. The second the Proprietor had his back turned, he dipped his head, and exhaled a small jet of flame.

“Now, since you’re here”—he circled back behind the bar, and retrieved the carafe—“I’d appreciate a favor.” Thick wisps of steam curled above the mug as he poured. “If you’re going to be loitering in my establishment, then you’re volunteering as a test subject. I need a second opinion before I add it to the menu.”

“Not sure if I should be flattered, or offended.” In spite of himself, Flint peered at the foam with some interest. “What’s this poison called?”

“Komala roast,” he said. His glasses were starting to fog. “It’s an Alolan import, though for the life of me I can’t remember which island it was harvested from.”

“Maybe it’s the one with the Komalas on it.”

He slid the drink in front of him. “Less talking, more drinking.”

Flint picked up the mug, and squinted at its contents. “Do you think they roast the Komalas while they’re still alive, or do they—”

“Drink, or I’m throwing you out.”

He decided not to call his bluff. With a shrug, Flint lifted it to his face, and cautiously took a sip.

The Proprietor watched him with connoisseurial scrutiny. “And?” he prompted.

“Mellow, but not in a bad way,” said Flint. “There’s a lingering sweetness to it, if that makes any sense.” He went to take another sip.

“That would be the low acidity.” The Proprietor relocated the carafe to the back shelf. “The coffee beans lose some of the bitterness when they’re fermented in their intestines.”

Flint spat the drink back into his cup.

He could hear the Proprietor still laughing as he coughed over the edge of the counter. “Why’d you think they call it Komala coffee?”

It took a few seconds to compose himself, before Flint pushed the offending beverage out of his vicinity. “You know, I think I would have preferred if you actually poisoned me.” He glowered. “You’re going to lose customers if you add that to the menu.”

“Never underestimate the consumer’s love for novelty.” From somewhere on his person, he’d produced a rag, and begun polishing a glass. “Besides, I have your personal testimony. Mellow with a lingering sweetness. Sounds like a good sales pitch, don’t you think?”

“Please don’t quote me on that.”

“Fine, fine. Rob me of business.” He exchanged the glass for a tumbler. “Speaking of which, what brings you to Sunyshore?”

Did the League send you? Or did you volunteer?

The basket liner crinkled as Flint picked at a chip. “Why is it,” he asked, without looking up, “that I’m only just now hearing about these blackouts?”

“Ah.” The tumbler let out a dull thud as it was placed on the counter, and set aside. “I wondered when you would catch wind of them.”

The Proprietor cleared his throat.

“The first outage was pretty minor, all things considered. It only knocked out the Gym and a couple of nearby buildings. No one complained since the damage was negligible, and we figured it was an accident. Second one was a bit more inconvenient—everything within sixteen blocks of the Gym lost power. Annoying, sure, but the engineers had it fixed in two hours, so why fuss?” He snorted. “You know what people around here are like—they worship Volkner.”

It wasn’t as if Volkner had his reputation for nothing, although Flint kept that comment to himself. “What about now?”

“Now I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s pissed off half the city. Their tolerance is evaporating, and I can’t say I blame them.” His lips thinned. “The last outage caused some of the perishables in my walk-in to go bad. The only reason I didn’t lose more is because I triaged what was left, and cooked it before it could spoil.”

Flint opened his mouth to—what, apologize on his friend’s behalf?—only to stop, when he began to toy with that loose strand of logic. “How the hell did you cook if you had no power?”

To which the Proprietor jerked a thumb toward the corner, where his Houndoom was still demolishing the (now burnt) brisket. “Dante’s fire easily tops six hundred and fifty degrees. He’s a furnace with legs.”

Dante snorted, as he tore off another strip.

“None of this is adding up,” Flint muttered, half to himself. “This isn’t like Volkner.” His brow furrowed, as he studied the wood grains in the counter. Looking for a pattern that wasn't there. “Has he said anything when he comes by? Anything that seemed off?”

“Flint.” The Proprietor braced his arms against the counter, and leaned forward. “Volkner hasn’t been here in weeks.”

Flint jerked up. “What?”

“You heard me.” There was an unmistakable frustration permeating his movements, as he returned to polishing the glassware. “Trying to get a hold of him has been like pulling teeth. I can’t just demand an audience with him at the Gym, and I work late hours as it is. I’ve tried calling, but—”

“He’s ignoring your calls,” Flint finished. If he’d had an appetite before, it was long gone.

The Proprietor’s cleaning lost some of its intensity. “Were you able to talk to him?”

“Briefly.” One of the privileges of his title, as a member of the Elite Four. One which Flint despised having to invoke. “Not that it was a productive conversation. He pretty much kicked me out.”

“Figures,” he said under his breath. “He’s avoiding us, you realize.”

He did. But it didn’t exactly assuage his concerns.

“This is ridiculous,” Flint said, when the gap in conversation began to stretch uncomfortably long. “First the blackouts, and now this? And his staff are on edge. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that I walked in as they were about to stage a mutiny.”

To his surprise, the Proprietor scoffed. “Well, what did you expect? I’d be on edge too if my boss’s boss showed up at my job to inspect my workplace. Like it or not, you represent the League. They probably thought you were there to shut the place down for non-compliance, since the Gym hasn’t handed out a badge in over a month.”

A chill crept down his spine.

The stool protested as Flint sat back. “What do you mean,” he repeated, slowly, “that the Gym hasn’t been handing out badges?”

The Proprietor registered the shift in tone, and set the rag down, with a look of renewed consideration. “You didn’t hear?”

Flint shook his head.

“I don’t know all the details,” he began. “But word is, Volkner’s been destroying anyone that comes to fight him. I’ve had a few trainers swing by after their matches. It’s the same story, over and over.”

It was expected that some challengers wouldn’t succeed on their first try. But none?

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Flint said. “Is he not adjusting team line-ups between matches? He’s not pitting low-tier trainers against the roster he reserves for seventh- and eighth-badge fights, is he? Why would—”

The Proprietor held up his hands. “Like I said, I don’t know the details. That’s just what I’ve heard from gossip.”

Flint was quiet for a moment. “What else have you heard?”

“Well, I haven’t been able to verify it,” the Proprietor said, “but some folks have said that Volkner’s been hanging out at the lighthouse in his downtime. Apparently, he’s been going there to brood.”

Flint scowled. “Volkner doesn’t brood.”

The Proprietor silently peered over the rim of his shades, and Flint fought the impulse to shift under his stare. He wondered, a little distantly, if he hadn’t made that comment specifically to gauge how he would react.

The chair legs scraped over the floorboards, as Flint stood. “Thanks for lunch.”

While unsurprised, the Proprietor did frown in disapproval. “You didn’t even touch your food.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said. “Just give it to Dante or something.”

At the sound of his name, Dante looked up from the bone he’d been gnawing on. He didn’t appear to object to the idea.

“What do I owe you for lunch?” he asked.

At that, the Proprietor barked a laugh. “Flint, you haven’t paid for so much as a ketchup packet in fifteen years. Don’t insult me by asking now.” He waved the question aside. “It’s on the house.”

Flint smiled, a bit humorlessly. “Thanks.”

The bell above the door chimed as it closed behind him.

Late afternoon sunlight gilded the boats and rocky spurs that jutted from the harbor. The view from the elevator had always been impressive, regardless of the time of day.

As the lift ascended, Flint found himself wishing he could have enjoyed it.

When he dismounted, he was relieved to find the gallery room empty. At least he wouldn’t have an audience for what was about to come.

The door slid on its tracks as Flint pushed it aside, and stepped out onto the deck.

The Proprietor’s sources weren’t mistaken, as much as Flint would have preferred otherwise. Volkner was leaning into the railing, his back turned. Either he didn’t notice—or more likely, didn’t care about—the intrusion. Flint cycled through several false starts as he approached, debating which would be the most effective—

Until he caught Volkner’s face.

“Since when do you smoke?” Volkner tilted his head at the question, enough to watch him out of his periphery. He didn’t answer, though. The smoke that billowed up around his face didn’t have time to linger, before the wind dispersed it.

Flint frowned. “I thought you hated those things.”

The tip glowed, and Volkner exhaled.

He folded his arms over his chest. “How did the two o’clock match go?” he asked instead.

Volkner shrugged. “Dull.”

“Out of curiosity”—the metal bar dug into his shoulder as Flint reclined against it, one hand loosely braced for support—“did you deny this trainer a badge, too?”

“I can’t deny a person something that they didn’t earn.” He tapped the cigarette against the railing. “They lost.”

“To you?” Flint asked. “Or to your Electivire?”

It was subtle, but Flint didn’t miss the way his shoulders tensed. “To my mid-level team,” he answered. “I’m not gatekeeping my Gym badge, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“But you expect me to believe that every challenger, regardless of their badge count, keeps losing to you?”

The cigarette was becoming pinched in the middle where Volkner was holding it. “There’s nothing I can do about mediocre trainers. If you’re disappointed by the prospect of no League challengers next season, then get used to it.” He took a drag, and sighed. “I did.”

The stunned silence didn’t last long. His knuckles began to ache as Flint’s grip on the railing tightened. “I’m not disappointed by inadequate trainers.” He pushed away from it—and this time, Volkner watched. “I’m disappointed by you.”

Volkner’s eyes narrowed.

“Do you have any idea what kind of damage you could’ve caused?” Flint jabbed a finger at the harbor. “This lighthouse we’re standing in? It’s the only thing that keeps ships from hitting those rocks down there, and because of you, it didn’t work. You don’t get the right to endanger people just because you’re bored and don’t want to do your job!”

“I am doing my job!” The venom caught Flint off-guard. “I’ve been doing it. For years, in fact, meeting every fucking expectation the League ever had for me. If you have an issue with how I run my Gym, Flint—”

Volkner closed the distance between them.

“—then do something about it.”

He blew a cloud of smoke in his face.

The adrenaline hit a second before Flint’s thoughts caught up to him. Volkner grunted as Flint slammed him against the lighthouse wall, a hand fisted in his shirt collar.

The other man didn’t struggle. If anything, the hand that had reflexively grabbed his own wrist slackened. Volkner winced, but managed to meet Flint’s eyes. The anger in them was gone, as if it had never been there.

“If you’re going to hit me,” he said, quietly, “then get it over with.”

Volkner dropped like a dead weight as Flint released him.

He didn’t stop to check if he was okay. Flint spun on his heel, and left, not once looking back.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Pulling on the Strings of Destiny: Act 2 Chapter 19

Summary: Four days pass for Japan, and everyone is on edge.  They wonder, and wait. What will happen next for them? Will Midoriya  keep rising? What sort of things would she face. They all turned towards  the screens, wondering. None more so then the future class 1-A, more so  as they get a glimpse into their first sports festival, first  internship and their final exams. Watch as Midoriya’s future continues  to unfold, as she learns more about her family, society and herself.

Warnings: References to underage pregnancy and the assualt of a minor. References to child harm. Toga Himiko to, she is her own warning.

On Ao3

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 The break right after everything was very loud, with people talking about what they had just witnessed occurring. They were in awe at the fight between Midoriya and Todoroki, everyone talking about how they’d looked.

 “That sort of power!” An office worker named Kanjo Nioi said, his arms raised as his nose sniffed the air. Being able to smell emotions was difficult at the best of times, but he loved it. It helped cue him in about the thoughts of others.

 “They’re going to go far,” his cubicle neighbour agreed. Koichi Hotaru leaned back in his chair. “They also need to work on damage control as suggested.”

 “Eh, heroes,” Nioi said. “They always make messes.”

 “But that amount? If both went all out, nothing would be left,” argued Koichi.

 “Okay, point, but it’s gotten to the point where, frankly, as long as no bodies are lying around, do we care about the damage?” Nioi asked. “I mean, if it isn’t our places that got trashed, I mean.”

 “Well, no, but dude, I don’t want more property damage,” Koichi sighed. “Society needs to stop putting so much focus on the flashy side of heroics. We don’t need more property damage.”

 “...I guess. Wish we had more fights like that, though, that was awesome.”

 “Just watch this; I have a feeling things are going to get messy,” Koichi muttered. “Especially with the bomb kid.”

 “Oh yeah, man, that kid is a bit nuts. I thought he was a cool guy after the USJ, but this? How can you just attack someone because they beat you? And claim it’s cheating?” Nioi shook his head. “Mental.”

 Many others agreed with that statement, including Mitsuki as she pinched her nose. Katsuki responded, after his shock, with anger at the idea he would be getting a third strike.

 “He cheated!” Katsuki screamed. “It wasn’t a fair fight if he-”

 “Is it a fair fight when you have explosions for hands, and he doesn’t?” Masaru’s voice asked. He had come up to his son’s room to listen in and wasn’t pleased. “Is it fair you have training we paid for so you can use your Quirk effectively? Is it fair that you are stronger and faster than a lot of kids?”

 “It’s not the same!” Katsuki insisted.

 “How isn’t it, Katsuki, tell me? Because he didn’t fight? He did. He fought the same way you do, with his Quirk. You just hate it because it doesn’t match your worldview, and you lost. If this is your answer to the idea someone can be better than you, and we already know you apparently threw fits about not being top in English, how can we trust you not to be the next Endeavour?!” Masaru demanded of his son. Katsuki stared at his father in shock, turning to his mother, who shook her head.

 “Don’t look at me, I can’t trust you.” Mitsuki told Katsuki. “More so since your thoughts on Izumi sure show you would only be after her since she can have strong kids. How is that different?”

 “I’m not after her just because of that!” Katsuki shouted.

 “Wait, you’re still interested?” Mitsuki realized, staring at her son. “Are you serious?” Katsuki just glared back. Masaru sighed.

 “So we can’t trust you not to become the next Endeavour,” Masaru said. Katsuki looked to his father in dismay.

 How could he think that? He wasn’t Endeavour who beat his wife and kids! He was fucking Bakugou Katsuki, the next number one hero! He was the best! He wasn’t some loser so obsessed with winning he’d fuck everyone else over!

 (Katsuki ignored that Shinsou did the same as he did, trying his best with what he had. He ignored the fact that he was very much in the wrong. It was easier to focus only on his anger and the feeling of betrayal his father gave him.)

 Katsuki was the best of the best. The future number one hero, the strongest hero of all time. He did not lose, not to some Eyebags fucking idiot who couldn't get into the hero course! Katsuki was not the next Endeavour; he had a reason to be so angry! The fucker cheated! He cheated! It wasn't a fair fight. Hell, it wasn't a fight at all.

 “Being a hero is about beating villains!” Katsuki shouted at his parents angrily. “It's not fucking fair!”

 “He won fair and square; you just don't want to admit it, Katsuki.” Mitsuki sighed, not wanting the same argument again right after finishing the first one. Masaru shook his head, deciding to go a different way.

 “Not to mention you attempted to attack a fellow student outside of a match.” he frowned. “If we’re lucky, it'll just be a strike. You could be expelled for that.”

 “What?!” Katsuki stared at his father in shock, unable to believe it. No, no, that wasn't… no!

 They wouldn't! He was Bakugou Katsuki, future number one! They wouldn't do that! He knew they wouldn't!

 He'd be apologized to when Nezu saw the truth. After all, the fucker cheated! Okay, maybe the attack was an issue, but he was angry! It was Katsuki’s right to put Eyebags in his place!

 … okay maybe not. Thinking about it, the whole thing was bad to do on TV. He kind of got why they were mad about the PR issue. And maybe the physical stuff.

 The future would show Katsuki in the right, though. This wasn't the end. It couldn't be the end; he knew he was right. He had to be. He'd been right about Auntie, after all.

 He would prove himself. He would be shown with Nezu agreeing that Eyebags cheated. He would be on top. He would! He was destined to be the best of the best!

 He would not fail that. He’d show them all, and later on, he would get Deku. It was the perfect hero story.

-0-

 Entering the school, Shouta was alerted to something on his phone, frowning as he looked at it. “Apparently, Fatgum saved a kid who ran off from an abusive situation and got inspired by Limitless.” he nodded to Izumi, who flushed.

 Was she already inspiring people? Wow.

 “Aww sounds cute,” Hizashi said, grinning at his husband. “Let’s go meet the kid then!”

 “Might help, kid’s nervous,” Shouta said. Izumi followed the adults as Tomoe buried her head into Izumi’s neck, obviously tired of everything.

 The walk to the principal’s office felt long for some reason, and Izumi grew more nervous with each step. Would the girl like her? Was this her first fan? What was it?

 Reaching the office, the door opened instantly to reveal Nezu serving tea to Fatgum and Amajiki while a little girl with silver hair ate a cookie. The door opening had startled the child, causing her to jump up and turn. Her eyes widened.

 “Limitless!” the girl said in awe, her eyes shining. Izumi smiled back as her as Tomoe lifted her head upon hearing a child. The girls stared at each other before Tomoe pointed at the girl.

 “Pretty!” she smiled, and the girl blushed.

 “You're pretty too!” the girl exclaimed, and Tomoe beamed happily.

 Izumi decided then and there that she liked this child.

 “I Tom-o!” Tomoe introduced herself.

 “I'm Eri.” the girl said.

 “Eri!” Tomoe giggled. She yawned, blinking. She didn't want to sleep, but she was so tired. She wanted to know Eri better cause she was beautiful, and her horn was so cool, as was the girl's shimmering hair. She really liked it!

 “I’ll be here if you need to nap!” Eri said nervously. Tomoe nodded and rested her head back down. Mama would make sure Eri stayed around; she liked the girl.

 “It's nice to meet you, Eri,” Izumi told the child, who blushed, looking down. “I hear you escaped a bad man.”

 “Like Limitless,” Eri whispered. Izumi smiled, nodding.

 “Yeah, like me,” she said.

 The adults in the room watched as Izumi gently spoke to Eri, eventually sitting beside her on a chair with Tomoe dozing away. Shouta looked at Hizashi, who grinned.

 They would have to figure out where Eri could go now. Their apartment wasn't that big.

 Meanwhile, Eri was trying not to panic. This was Limitless and Tomoe! They were so nice! Limitless was smiling at her and talking to her and…

 Eri didn’t know how to react. It felt so nice and made her feel warm, like the tea that Mr. Nezu had given her. It wasn’t like the tea Overhaul had at his place, bitter and tasting a bit weird. It was delicious, and Mr. Nezu said it was apple cinnamon tea, which Eri was so shocked about. Apples could be tea?

 Limitless gave her the same warm feeling. A buzzy thing that made her feel safe. Limitless would be able to save her and be there for her. Eri just knew it.

 (She was worried about the two men with Limitless, but they seemed nice on the screen. Maybe they would be nice to Eri, too? She liked them… perhaps they would.)

 “So, Eri, can you tell us more about where you were?” Nezu asked the girl. Eri winced, deflating a bit, but she glanced at Izumi, making the girl lift her head.

 “Yes. His name is Overhaul. He says… he says my Quirk is a curse,” the little girl told the principal. “He… he wants to use me to make other Quirks go away.” The girl swallowed. “Like I made Daddy go away.”

 “What happened?” Izumi asked the child. “With your Daddy.”

 “He… my horn was glowing, and he grabbed me cause I was scared, but he started shrinking until he was my size and then smaller and…” Eri burst into tears, unable to continue as she shook her head. “Daddy…” Izumi looked panicked, glancing at Tomoe in her arms, but Hizashi stepped in. He knelt before Eri, making a soft whistling noise that distracted the child.

 “Hey, focus on me,” he said gently. “It’s okay.”

 “Daddy-“

 “It’s okay, Eri. Accidents happen. I deafened my Mother,” Hizashi said gently. “I know other people who hurt others badly with their Quirks to when they first activated, including killing them. You’re a child, Eri. It wasn’t your fault.”

 “Mommy told me it was. She left me with Grandpa and Overhaul,” Eri whispered.

 “It wasn’t your fault,” Hizashi repeated. Eri began crying again, putting her cup down and reaching out to Hizashi, who didn’t hesitate to hug her. Shouta hid his smile in his scarf.

 Hizashi was always good with child victims.

 “Overhaul is part of that Yakuza group Nighteye is looking into,” Fatgum said lowly. “I think he’s the leader after the old one just happened to end up in a coma,” he looked at Nezu after the last line. The stoat grinned in response. He’d do his hacking later, but he would figure out what exactly happened.

 “Mirio umm…” Amajiki squeaked, coughing before pressing on. “Mirio said he’d heard that they were dealing with Trigger. Not Quirk suppressants…”

 “It’s temporal,” Izumi said out of nowhere. She was squinting at Eri, who was finishing her crying into Hizashi’s arms. “Your Quirk Eri, it’s temporal.”

 “Huh?” Eri asked.

 “You said he got small? You… deaged him.” Izumi nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing in thought. “Making someone smaller isn’t the same as fading someone out of a plane of existence or that. Plus, if he was using you… oh umm…” she coughed, shaking her head. “It’s a lot of info and grown-up kiddo. You wanna hear it?” Eri bit her lip before shrugging.

 “I overheard a lot of stuff to grown-up some maids said,” Eri said. “Like how Overhaul has a Quirkless kink? He likes you a lot, and the others thought it bad touch creepy? Rappa said that. And said he wasn’t sure if he wanted to fucking follow a fucking rapist.” Eri frowned. “What does that mean?”

 Izumi’s face had gone pale. She stared at Eri in horror before she swallowed, shaking her head. “A rapist is what Yamanaka was to me, how he hurt me. And the rest is adult stuff I do not want to talk about with you.” She admitted.

 “Okay. What does temporal mean?” Eri asked, eager to avoid thinking of Overhaul as she stayed in Hizashi’s arms.

 “It means time based… ish? I don’t know the actual definition, but it’s related to time. I think you reverse time on things which…” Izumi hesitated.

 The pro-heroes knew what she would say, though. That was big. That sort of Quirk was incredibly rare; add in with the fact that it worked on people? If Eri could control it, there wasn’t a doubt the child would become an incredible healer if she chose to. But there were the dangers.

 Trafficking. Quirk marriage proposals. Forced recruitment into gangs or even by the Commission if they chose.

 Hizashi glanced up at Shouta, who nodded. They had even more reason to take Eri in then and the ability to protect her if things went to hell. And they would protect her. She was so young, and having this on her shoulders…

 They would protect her.

 “I like time,” Eri said softly. “I… Overhaul doesn’t care what I watch, but he hates new stuff, so it’s all old stuff like Doctor Who…”

 “Oh!” Izumi smiled. “I watch the old episodes too.” It was the only show that still had original episodes that were findable. The joke was that the Doctor had come to make it happen, and Izumi half hoped it was true. “The new seasons are good too.” There was no focus on Quirks; rather, the Doctor was the star without a Quirk, though given he was an alien, the debates from the fandom got loud.

 “I like the Lady Doctor, but I like others too,” Eri said.

 “Ooh, the original female Doctor? She’s cool. They had a recent female play the role,” Izumi said to Eri, who smiled happily up at Izumi.

 “I’ve always enjoyed the Tenth,” Hizashi said, looking at Shouta, who sighed.

 “I like the Thirtieth.”

 “You just like that 'cause they have a talking cat in the show.” Hizashi accused.

 “And?” the group laughed, with Fatgum quietly reporting things to Nezu and the others debating over the old show. Eventually though, Izumi ended up speaking with Fatgum about possibilities for Overhaul, the man deciding after seeing Izumi theorize about Eri’s Quirk (with no proof yet they would need to double check themselves) while Eri spoke with the adults.

Nezu sipped his tea as he watched Shouta and Hizashi coax Eri into talking to them. Good, it would be best for them to get Eri to trust them as soon as possible, given that Nezu would pull more strings to give them custody. How the child described her Quirk was worrying. Not even just the worries raised by Izumi’s hypothesis. But saying it was called a curse.

 A curse for what was most likely a temporal Quirk? Preposterous! Ridiculous and outright vile for this Overhaul to do that. Not to mention how Eri mentioned one of his men being concerned about how the villain spoke of Izumi.

 A villain who said concerning things about a young teenager while said villain was obsessed with Quirks? Nezu felt his fur bristle and his jaw want to bite.

 He watched as the little family began forming, with the adults as Eri’s parents. Good, young Izumi had enough with Tomoe as her child; Eri would be just another burden, even if Izumi refused to admit it. Perhaps if Tomoe was not around, Nezu would let it be, but… well, Nezu wanted all his students to succeed. Adding another child for Izumi to raise would only lead to more pressure she did not need as the future number one.

 Which reminded him. Bakugou, Monoma and Shinsou. He already okayed the idea of Shinsou being given a place in the hero course as long as he put in effort now, similar to the other members. Monoma would be put into 1A now instead of 1B, and Nezu would watch how Kendo grew on screens. But Bakugou…

 His future self would hold on for as long as he could but with an attack on public television for such a reason… Nezu would face some pressures. Another strike would be waiting for the boy and a suitable punishment. Usually, a third strike resulted in suspension, but given it would be his internship week… Nezu figured his future self would pick the boy’s mentor. It would most likely be one of his teachers who would keep him out of sight. He was already on the protocol which would protect him and UA from the nastier media demanding a reason why the boy was not expelled in a second. It would also be an issue with people demanding a reason why Bakugou had been allowed to participate and why he was on the flag policy… ugh, the thoughts and PR concerns were endless there.

 Nezu sighed, shaking his head. He wanted all his students to succeed. He would never allow this version of Bakugou into his school. The boy had already tried to assault a random civilian, so they couldn’t anyway, but Nezu could somewhat hope the boy would do better in the future. Even if this version would never be his student… he still wanted the future version to shine. If not, if they saw the boy removed from his school… well, he would accept it. Perhaps he would go to Second Chance and do better. He could hope.

-0-

 “How can you think about talking to them again?” Tenya asked Tensei over the phone, anger evident in his tone.

 “Tenya, there is a lot you don’t know about my relationship with ID, and one of them is how we broke up,” Tensei warned.

 “You broke up because they left, and they instantly found a new partner!” Tenya shouted. “I saw you crying all the time, Tensei. I-”

 “They found a new partner so fast to hurt me, yes, but I hurt them first by cheating on them!” Tensei snapped. Silence answered him. “I got drunk and stupid. I was angry they were leaving. We hadn’t broken up yet as I was trying to convince them that we could still do long-distance or something. A woman walked up to me, hit on me and then… I slept with her. I cheated on Info Dropper, and they found out because they know everything. It was a nasty breakup, and I regret what I did. They hurt me just as bad with their insults and name-calling, instantly moving on to a new person, knowing it would hurt. But you can’t just claim I was the only one hurt Tenya.” Tensei said softly.

 “I… I have to go.” Tenya hung up, and Tensei closed his eyes. Shit. His parents made noises about letting them calm down before hanging up. Good, Tensei didn’t… well, he didn’t want to remember exactly what happened with ID right then. Too bad he was going to.

 “Wow,” Native said. “Never knew that’s why you broke up.” His voice didn’t hold judgment. Some disappointment, but no anger or him judging Tensei’s choices. And he didn’t hit him like Nemuri did when she found out. Or refuse to speak to him for a month like Hizashi or give him looks like Shouta. Maybe because it was years ago, and Tensei regretted it.

 (He really did.)

 “I fucked up. Bad with that,” Tensei sighed. “Then ID went off and met Sara,” he snapped out the name, thinking of the villain who’d betrayed ID. Sara had seemed nice enough, a Quirkless woman who was sweet and thoughtful. Who loved ID fiercely and never shied away from Squirt’s Quirk. Then she’d shown her true colours.

 (It was one of the last times Tensei saw ID. The funeral of their parents dressed all in black with their brother Squirt beside them. ID blamed themself, hating how their choice of partners led to this. Tensei wished he could have done something to ease their burdens.)

 “And they got fucked over again,” Native said. “I was part of the task force taking down that organization,” Native explained to Tensei. “I saw what Sara did to Squirt. No wonder he went mute after that.”

 “He’s a good guy, didn’t deserve the bullshit in his life.” Tensei sighed. “Born with a puppeteer Quirk, voice-activated… huh, think they’re related to Shinsou?”

 “It’s ID; I wouldn’t be surprised if they said they were All Might’s nibling.” Native snorted. “I’d believe it, too.”

 “They convinced us Nezu was their father for our entire UA career. They would.” Tensei laughed before he sighed. “The cheating wasn’t even worth it.”

 “Not a fun time?” Native asked.

 “She was a fangirl in the rabid, oh I can see us having a million babies and running off into the sunset with all the money you make way,” Tensei said. “I think she works for the Commission now.”

 “Ick, that sucks.” Native sighed. The two stood there a little longer. “So I know you being hurt by Stain sucks, but what about the sports festival so far?”

 “I am immensely proud of my little brother, and also, the crush he is totally developing on Midoriya is both cute and a little sad,” Tensei said. “He won’t do anything because she’ll be uncomfortable, and nothing will happen unless she realizes she has feelings for him.”

 “You think she has feelings for him?” Native asked in surprise.

 “Eh, not yet. But I think it'll be him or Uraraka she’ll fall for. She bonded with them quickly,” Tensei shrugged. “Plus, I think she needs someone who doesn't have too much baggage on their mind.”

 “I can see it,” Native allowed. Tensei laughed as at UA, Tenya stared at his phone.

 His brother… cheated? His brother didn't… His what…

 It felt like a hundred thoughts were occurring in his mind at once, with none actually clicking.

 Tensei cheated.

 Info Dropper got a girlfriend barely a month after the breakup.

 Tensei slept with someone else while in a relationship.

 Info Dropper broke Tensei’s heart.

 Tensei betrayed his partner.

 Tenya felt his breath quicken as he tried to think. No, this couldn't be happening. It had to be fake. It was a lie; there had to be a different explanation-

 “Tenya!” a feminine voice said. “Tenya, it’s Nemuri. Breath with me, kid.” dramatically loud breaths echoed around him, letting him breathe with his teacher even as his mind spiralled.

 “Tensei cheated,” Tenya breathed out.

 “He told you,” Midnight sighed. “We’re going to step outside for a bit, okay, kid?” Tenya followed her out of the common room, moving so they would sit outside in the grass. She didn't speak, letting Tenya go first.

 “I don't understand,” Tenya said after a moment. “Why… why would he…”

 “Tensei was feeling betrayed and lonely. That's what he told us, and it's bullshit,” Nemuri said. “He made the choice to sleep with someone else. He was drunk, but he still did it.”

 “I… he's better than this!” Tenya said angrily.

 “He is now. But he was a very angry young adult,” Nemuri said wisely. “He was hurt ID wanted to join the Court and angry that they didn't want him to follow them. ID was angry he didn't understand how much it meant for them to be offered the position and that he didn't understand they needed to be able to spread their wings as it was.” Nemuri sighed. “Frankly, I thought they'd break up anyway, even without the offer. ID is aggressively independent, and Tensei has his family. I think he had ideas of ID using his agency as a paper agency to work from and using the prestige of the Iida family.”

 “Paper agency?” Tenya asked.

 “Underground term. Paper agencies are where underground heroes can join up and have a fallback if needed. ID would never go for it even then, but I think Tensei hoped. Said hope was dashed, though, making him bitter. Hence why I thought they would break up anyway, since ID would never choose to go to work at the agency. Wanted to make their own name as a hero and not just the partner of a legacy.” Midnight sighed. “It happens a lot, kiddo. You’ve heard stories, I assume?”

 Tenya nodded, thinking of the stories he’d heard from eavesdropping on his family. Young heroes who rose quickly were called gold diggers for marrying or dating legacy heroes; their success was always attributed to their partners and not themselves. Legacy heroes using their influence to keep partners with them or control them. Info Dropper would have worried about the rumours. Hell, Tensei actually dated a hero who was like that, grasping for influence, and he hated it.

 (Tenya remembered how happy Tensei was with ID and how broken his brother had been.

 Did Squirt remember the same? Tenya dimly remembered the older man, the younger brother of ID. But he wondered if Squirt hated Tensei the same way Tenya hated ID before.)

  “He made a bad choice. And he hates himself for it, even though I know ID has forgiven him.”

 “They forgave him?!” Tenya asked in bafflement. “How?!” cheating was horrible, disgusting. How could ID forgive Tensei? He was Tenya’s brother, but he couldn't bear the thought of seeing him so soon, not after learning how badly he had betrayed his partner.

 “ID went through a worse hell with Sara. I don't know if you remember this, but Sara murdered ID’s parents.” Midnight said bluntly. Tenya looked at his brother’s friend in horror, mouth open in shock. “Plus, ID fucked up too. They never told Tensei about the offer; he found out through a third party. Never hide that kind of stuff from your partner. I'm aromantic, and I know that.” Midnight shrugged. “The two worked through it even if they aren't dating right now.”

 “… they'll get back together,” Tenya sighed. He did not know how to handle that. For years he hated ID, seeing them as the person who broke his brother’s heart. He understood why no one told him the whole story, but it still threw him off. It felt like something broke when he learned that.

 How could he look at his brother the same?

-0-

  Hitoshi’s dad had shown up at the school. Hoshi waved at the principal, not moved by the man’s simpering about honour or whatever the slime ball wanted to discuss. The man only wanted to make himself look good by having Recovery Girl’s grandson at his school.

 “Where are we going?” Hitoshi asked his father.

 “To our place. Your grandma texted saying she’s fairly certain Nezu will offer you a place, but given you need more time to get in shape, it’ll be conditional as long as you can hold up on working out.” Hoshi told his son.

 “I can do that,” Hitoshi grinned. “I can’t believe I beat that bastard.”

 “You did good,” Hoshi told him. He reached out to ruffle his son’s hair, making Hitoshi whine playfully. “And you get to fight a cute girl next.”

 “Oh, yeah, no. She’s gonna kick my ass.” Hitoshi said wisely. “I’ll take the hits.”

 “Not denying she’s cute?”

 “I think she’s not ready for any sort of relationship right now, and I’d let her approach me,” Hitoshi said.

 “Smart, though she may never approach you even if she was interested.” Hoshi hummed. “Though that’s in the future.”

 “Where I’m a hero,” Hitoshi said in quiet awe. His father chuckled, happy his son’s dreams were being realized.

-0-

 He used his fire.

 Shouto didn’t know how to feel about that, the knowledge he chose to unleash those flames. But he’d done it because the fire was his own. Not Endeavour’s. Midoriya reminded him of that. The dual-haired teen focused on his school work, mimicking the more studious members of his future class other than Iida, who had an unpleasant call with his brother.

 Shouto used his fire and lost the rock-paper-scissors. But he also gained friends? Uraraka seemed worried about Iida, which made sense, and Asui was working on the schoolwork, while Aoyama seemed torn on something. What exactly, Shouto didn’t know. But he was laser-focused on thinking about something.

 It was for the best; Shouto didn’t know what to think.

 The fire he hated (feared). The fire that hurt him (mom hurt him because of it).

 He’d used it in the future, and… he should use it now. Endeavour couldn’t hurt him here at UA. He was safer, right? From the sounds of things, his father wouldn’t be able to get him back. Shouto liked the sound of it but was worried. What about Fuyumi? Would she be okay? Natsuo? (Mom?)

 He was safe. That was important. He… he had to save himself first, didn’t he? He had to focus on making sure he was okay. He thought Burnin’ told him that once when the sidekick was teaching him things. She’d told Shouto the first priority in a dangerous situation was yourself. Focus on making sure you live, then worry about people around you. Shouto…

 Shouto never used his fire because of his mother. He resented Fuyumi when she spoke about Endeavour being their father (she stopped after the first episodes. Her face grew tight, and she stopped smiling as much at the man. What did it mean?). He barely knew Natsuo due to them being kept apart. He hated his father and never wanted to be near the man if he could help it.

  Shouto… he didn’t know what to think. He felt lost and confused. He could use his fire. Midoriya showed him that. She showed him by kicking his ass and being so powerful, so amazing it was like seeing a goddess brought down to the mortal realm. She was beautiful, deadly, untouchable.

��He would never chase her. Endeavour’s words were in his ear, and he couldn’t do it. He told himself he wouldn’t. He would never go for Midoriya when she would be someone Endeavour approved of. He stuck by that, even as he remembered that feral smile she gave, surrounded by lightning.

 Shouto would use his fire. He wouldn’t hurt himself to spite Endeavour. But he would not be more than a friend to Midoriya. Maybe it was hypocrisy or a double standard, but he already would be using fire. Giving in to date Midoriya wasn’t something he could do.

 He hoped she understood.

-0-

Ochako was worried about Tenya. Whatever Tensei told him was obviously BAD or like at least hard to hear. Probably something about the breakup. That kind of drama was always about horrible personal stuff. Ochako wanted to know so badly, but she reminded herself of her small oath. She would stop going after secrets like that. Not her business, nothing she needed to know.

 So, instead, Ochako thought about the future. Seeing Midoriya like that, the other girl that powerful and strong was… oof. Ochako didn’t have words for how her heart leapt or how the other girl made her feel like she could take on the world. It was just… the spark of Midoriya. She inspired people and made them feel hopeful the world would be better.

 Plus, the whole mom thing? Inspiring, beautiful. It felt like a freaking anime at times, Midoriya getting a superpower from the greatest hero, being a teen mom, and her own bio dad being some big-time villain. Hell, Ochako was pretty sure she’d seen the same plot before.

 It was… just amazing. Ochako felt so lucky to know Midoriya, to be friends with her. And the crush was… again, no words. Ochako didn’t know what she would do. She told herself no dating while in school, wanting to focus on heroics. But… Midoriya made it hard. Tomoe made it hard.

 Ochako imagined, guiltily, a future with Midoriya. Being a hero couple together, Tomoe as their daughter. Rising the ranks, kicking ass and taking names together. Being extraordinary and strong women. Tomoe becoming a hero…

 It felt amazing.

 God, why did she have to develop feelings for her best friend?

-0-

 Enji, because he could not be Endeavour now and must think of himself as a civilian as much as it galled him, glared at his supposed ally. Nara ignored him, instead letting his agents work. Once they were finished, Nara sent them away to face Enji alone.

 “What the hell are you doing, Nara?” Enji demanded.

 “Saving my ass.” Nara snapped. “You fucked up big time here, Todoroki. I don’t care you beat your family but fuck, it got out, and now we’re going to have to make sure you don’t ruin everything.”

 “It’s training!” Enji snapped. “I did what was necessary; it wasn’t abuse!” Nara paused, staring at the man before he burst out into a loud laugh.

 “Oh, you ACTUALLY think that? Really? You believe that you aren’t abusive? Wow, how delusional can you be?” Nara laughed a little more, shaking his head.

 “I’m not. I-”

 “You smacked your wife, you tormented your youngest, you ignored your middle children, and your eldest is dead. That’s not a good father,” Nara said coldly. Enji opened and closed his mouth, trying to refute it.

 “When you just say it like that-” he began, but Nara cut him off.

 “Then explain how you aren’t,” Nara said coldly.

 “I allowed Fuyumi and Natsuo to go to university!” Enji said.

 “Do you know what they studied or are studying?” Nara asked. Enji paused.

 “...Fuyumi is a teacher,” he said, trying to remember what Natsuo was in school for. He knew it; he approved, but… he couldn’t…

 “Medicine, specifically, he wants to work with psychiatric patients. The fact I know this because I read the file on the way here, but you don’t, is pathetic. And Fuyumi is a teacher, but she did a double major in psychology and teaching.” Nara sniffed. “You ruined the plans, Todoroki. The rivalry we hoped to continue between Hawks and your youngest isn’t possible now.”

 “Rivalry?” Enji asked, confused by that.

 “Hawks will make a fantastic number one, and we hoped Shouto would be like you, desperate to be on top so he would draw viewers to the stations and cause mountains of merchandise to be sold,” Nara sighed. “Pity it’s no longer possible.”

 “...What?” Enji stared at Nara, who ignored him, instead turning to leave.

 “Have a good day, Todoroki. We’ll update you when we decide your punishment,” the commission agent said before he left. Enji stared after him, unable to move.

 What did… did… Nara hadn’t wanted Shouto to beat All Might? But… Enji looked at his hands, confused.

 What the hell was going on?

 Outside the office, Nara made plans. Midoriya would be the number one; the future showed it. But they could get Hawks close to her. Nara felt annoyed Hawks was gay, given how perfect that relationship would look if they played it right, but they all had to make some sacrifices.

 With Info Dropper back in Japan, though, they would need to tread lightly. All it took was one name, and that hero could learn everything about Hawks, which wouldn’t be a good thing.

-0-

 Kai snarled, looking at the bitch who let Eri get out. The maid stared back, her hands twitching. The prototype of Quirk suppression bullets caused pain, and this scum was perfect for human testing.

 “You let her go,” Kai snarled.

 “Go fuck yourself,” Kuira said. “What you were doing to her was the most disgusting horseshit I have ever seen, you bastard.

 “I’m saving humanity,” growled Kai. “Quirks are a disease, a blight on our history! They are-”

 “You’re crazy,” Kuira said, closing her eyes. “Just fucking kill me already, there’s no point in trying to convince me of shit.” Kai scowled and stomped away. She would be used as their human testing subject. See how long she would last.

 “Overhaul,” Chronostasis said to him, but Kai ignored him. Eri was gone; without her, they couldn’t continue their mission. They needed her blood to make the bullets! There…

 There could be another answer. It occurred to Kai as he walked, making him pause. Midoriya Izumi. The beautiful Quirkless woman who he needed to save from the disgusting disease around her. Quirks would only ruin her, and that One for All was the worst of it! He would not let her tarnish herself with it, but her blood…

 Could she replace Eri in their goals? Could her blood be used? Why… he thought she could. Kai smiled to himself. It seemed there was more than one reason to get Izumi.

 -0-

 Civilians around Japan discussed the future. Many were still raving about the fight between Todoroki and Midoriya, all in awe at the amount of power thrown between them. The brilliance shown in their faces and how they worked. Future titans of the Quirked world are being born in front of them. It was impossible not to feel awe.

 Some, though, spoke of the Bakugou fight.

 “That boy doesn’t seem to know how to deal with losing,” one old woman said. “Schools pampering him plus over permissive parents.”

 “I don’t think they’re permissive,” argued her grandson. “The few scenes didn’t show that.”

 “Hmm, permissive ain’t the word then. Perhaps those folks are more the ‘oh boys will be boys’ types who give their child whatever he wants. Think I recognized that woman; she a model, ain’t she?”

 “...I think so, yeah,” her grandson said.

 “See? Too much money, schools thinking they can ride the coattails and a nasty personality no one stomped out created that boy. He’s the type of hero we don’t need, someone I wouldn’t trust.” the grandmother nodded.

 “Think he’s a lost cause?”

 “Few people are, and he’s young. Needs a really good humbling, and to get it through his skull, he ain’t all that, but he can get it.” the grandmother said.

 Elsewhere, Spinner was speaking with Liam.

 “I don’t really get why he was so mad,” Liam said. “He lost, why call it cheating?”

 “Probably cause Shinsou used his brain rather than his fists, and Bakugou doesn’t understand you can fight without beating someone up,” said Magne, who had overheard them.

 “He is very much that type, reminds me of a former classmate,” Spinner said. “Guy was convinced being a hero meant beating the shit out of people, not protecting them or being good people. He failed the entrance exam to every hero school because he never studied, thinking they just wanted strength. The guy tried to go vigilante and got killed.”

 “Ha!” another worker said. “One of those stories, yeah, I knew a guy like that. Hell, I think I know where he is now if I’m right about Stain.”

 “Stain?!” the rest of the group demanded, staring wide-eyed at the woman who scoffed, tossing down the building materials.

 “Yeah,” said the woman, tucking a lock of pink hair behind her ear. She’d only introduced herself as Hanako, staring down those who tried to pry. “I think I went to school with him before, bit of a fucking weirdo. Not too sure. If he is, I’ll be going to the police. He was obsessed with heroes and had a huge hard-on for All Might. He got into the hero course, but I hear he became so butt hurt no one was there for a noble cause, so he dropped out to be a vigilante.” Hanako rolled her eyes. “He’s got a big black-and-white view of the world. But I honestly think he wants to go down in history himself as some sort of great person who realized the hero system is corrupt or something like we don’t all know that.”

 “Oh, one of those guys?” Magne asked. “Who wants to get the shiny gold star for being a decent person or something?”

 “Pretty much,” Hanako sighed. “He got a lot of shit for his Quirk when we were in school, given it’s blood-based, and I think his parents let him run wild because they felt bad for him. Inflated his ego and let him think he created this revolutionary idea when anyone with two brain cells can figure it out. Issue is he puts heroes onto a pedestal and hates when people shake his little dream of heroes being perfect beings.”

 “No one is perfect,” Spinner said dryly.

 “Nope, he’s just dumb enough he thinks heroes need to be held to a perfect standard. Frankly, I don’t care if the hero saving me just wants a paycheck. I want to be saved.” Hanako said. “That’s what matters; he’s not going after doctors who want the money. It’s heroes he hates. That should tell you all about his ideals there.”

 “He wants fame himself but pretends otherwise. Hypocrite,” Magne sneered. Spinner shook his head in disgust.

 Maybe he once would have liked Stain, but hearing this while seeing Midoriya fight so hard…

 Spinner knew who he found more inspiring.

-0-

 His sister was amazing. Tomura couldn't stop smiling as he thought of how fantastic she’d been, kicking the ass of that stupid hero brat. He did not like that boy. He would stay away from Izumi if he knew what was good for him! Izumi was Tomura’s sister, and Tomoe was his niece. Only trustworthy people deserve to be around them.

 Tomura hummed as he pulled out his DS. With an hour, he could get some grinding in with his games. Sensei told him he would be busy during this break with something. Tomura was very interested in knowing what the man planned.

 In his lair, Hisashi listened to Dr. Garaki as the man listed various people they could use. Hisashi had plenty of shell companies and hidden funds that All Might missed in his purge. It was child's play to use them.

 Izumi would be his successor over Tomura, her bodyguard. But she would need a group of people she could rely on, meaning they needed to be people she could see herself in.

 “Toga Himiko,” Garaki said. “She's a serial killer who goes after people she is attracted to. She has a blood-based transformation Quirk and a need to have around 20 ML of blood a month. Her parents believe in Quirk suppression so they refused it before.”

 “Is it starvation that made her this way?” Hisashi asked.

 “Highly unlikely. 20 ML isn't much, and she would get from having a rare steak if needed,” Garaki disagreed. “As well she displayed sociopathic signs early on as a child, even before her parents forced her to go without blood and act normal. I believe though it is easy to concoct the idea she did suffer from it given her attitude.”

 “Send out feelers to lure her in,” Hisashi decided. “She will be perfect as a show that society harms certain Quirk types. Maybe mess with her mind, too, so she doesn't mess up and clue Izumi in. Who else?”

 “There is the eldest Todoroki, the one we saved? He'd be a good choice given how your daughter empathized with the youngest,” the doctor said. Hisashi nodded. He would be a good choice, yes. “We also have a Quirkless mercenary to consider, sir.”

 “Oh? Tell me more.”

-0-

 Z checked her gun, ignoring the screaming of civilians on the street. A simple headshot took care of her mark. Sweet and simple. She let out a long breath, putting the gun into its case. Sneaking a military-grade rifle into Japan had cost her a lot. But it was so worth it, given she could do hits easier.

 The blue-haired woman slipped the gun into her case, which looked like a backpack. She walked off the roof to the door, pulling on a wig from her bag giving her red hair. A pair of fake glasses, stick a mint into her cheek to have her speech slurred if she was spoken to and slip a rock into her shoe to hobble. Add to the fact she was dressed like any college kid; she would be good.

 As Z walked, she checked the floating screen. She felt a bit proud of Midoriya. She'd never tell anyone but as a kid, she would have jumped at the offer of One for All. She would have done anything to get it. Now, Midoriya was using it while gaining a good degree of fame.

 Proved all the Quirkless equals weak fuckers wrong. Z had carved out her niche in the underworld, and maybe Midoriya would have been more impressive if she had stayed Quirkless, but Z respected the hell out of the kid. From one Quirkless woman to another, watching the kid claw her way up after what happened to her had been fucking impressive. Z wasn't as strong when she'd been a teenager.

 (Then she was eighteen and screaming because of her fucking father’s friends. Her own father said the men could use her as a broodmare. It was a blur, and she suddenly had blood on her hands from smashing their heads in.

 She got strong then. She'd been weak before.)

 Z hummed as her phone rang. The money. She acted like the college kid she was supposed to be posing as she checked her phone. Only the fact that she had years of experience kept her from reacting too heavily.

 I have a job for you. The Boogeyman wants you. -Giran

 Why the fuck did he want her?

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

FlammenTaenzerinSuzaku gave us Kanjo

Hotaru Kokichi came from ArcticWolfPlayz

-Tensei’s situation with cheating was a really messy one, with Tensei feeling angry ID was leaving and not considering stating (to his mind, ID was seriously debating it at the time because they loved him) and getting drunk where someone could take advantage of his anger. It wasn’t assault, Tensei was not that drunk. But he wasn’t thinking that clearly. ID’s reaction to find a rebound instantly isn’t great either. Basically, both hurt each other badly and regret it. They still love each other and yeah, they’re slowly gravitating back to each other, but they have some shit to go through.

-Tenya wasn’t aware cause he was a kid, and Tensei was ashamed. He’s now being forced to see Tensei isn’t this perfect person. I also kind of wrote my own feelings about when I discovered my father’s affair and then learning my mother did the same. I was just shocked. Confused. And I also came to the realization I lost respect for them. I love them but knowing that kind of broke a lot of trust in me.

-this entire chapter became just bits of everyone and their thoughts cause I had no idea wtf to do and went: hey let's talk about why Tensei and ID broke up. Then it became this.

-I debated about saying this but to not get peoples hopes up: I am 95% sure TodoDeku isn't going to happen in this world. I do have a pairing in mind, but I'm not… 100% certain. I'm letting the story go where it wants. But I Don't think they would do well together. Both have so much trauma they're healing from and I think if They date each other they may ignore their own trauma cause its easier. But I dunno. Izumi thinking Todoroki is hot is one thing, dating another.

-Izumi will not be Eri’s mother. This is something I decided on ages ago because as Nezu points out: she has to much on her shoulders without Eri, and adding more isn’t good.

-Without Spinner or Magne, we need another villain, don’t we? There’s a reason I introduced Z.

[antithcsis]

black brothers angst, 1.1k words

“You don’t understand,” Regulus explodes, losing his temperament in a way he’s never done before. It shocks Sirius into silence, leaving Regulus to try and reign it in; to control his breaths, dig the hole in his chest a little deeper so his emotions stay buried and never resurface. But it’s a losing battle, because this burst of anger has been brewing for years, and he is helpless to stop the spillage.

“You,” he spits, venom lacing every facet of his voice, yet still not daring to take his eyes off the floor. “You, with your perfect hair, and your perfect smile, and all your friends, and the luxury of being able to step even a single toe out of line.” His feelings scrape raw as they claw their way out of his throat, exposing the most private parts of his soul. “You don’t get it because you escaped. You got to leave, and I didn’t. I’m still stuck, under the thumb of our mother, being dragged around like a little marionette with no will of his own."

Regulus heaves a deep breath, emotions other than the devastation and anger he’s feeling right now making themselves known as the words keep flowing. “Do you know what she did to me, when you left?” He finally chances a glance up to Sirius’ face, feeling his insides recoil at the look of pity and sadness etched in every line of his older brother’s face.

I don’t want your pity, he wants to say. Where was this sadness the night you left, he wants to shout.

He keeps going. “She came up to my room, sat me down on the bed, and congratulated me. Congratulated me on being the one to run you out of the house. ‘He won’t be able to tarnish our family name any longer, thanks to you,’ she’d said. A foolish part of me believed that it was the beginning of a change in her. That, because you left, so did her cruelty.” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “Of course, she was just waiting for me to step out of line. The second I did something she didn’t approve of, every ounce of malice she’d directed towards you was cast onto me.”

Regulus feels his eyes well up, frustrated tears pushing against his barriers to run down the planes of his face. He looks up to Sirius then, that vicious, snarling part of him wanting to see the effect that his words have on his brother firsthand. “So, you asking me why I don’t just leave? It's because I can’t.”

Sirius takes a fraction of a step towards Regulus, his brows furrowing in a way that shows he doesn’t understand what his little brother is saying. “I thought I was stuck too, but I made it out. I—”

Regulus cuts him off, his voice rising beyond his control once again. “You had help! You had James, and Remus, and Peter. James’ family. I have no one, Sirius. Do you understand that? Mother’s claws have latched deeper into me than they ever were in you. To her, I am her only son, and she will do anything to make me follow the path she’s set for me.

“I’m not like you. I’m not strong, or brave, or even stupid enough to try and get out. I risked so much to simply be able to attend the same school as you. I had to lie and tell her that our paths would not cross—and if they did, I would act like I didn’t know you. She has her eyes everywhere; one little slip up from me, and it’s an immediate transfer to the school she originally wanted me to go to.”

His breathing feels too big for his chest, like his lungs suddenly shrank. His vision is blurred from the tears sitting on his waterline, and at this point he’s simply too tired to care about his perfect composure. Poisonous hatred and that infantile urge to be comforted by his older brother mingle in the same space right above his heart, creating its own little storm.

“So don’t tell me,” Regulus’ voice breaks, “that everything will be fine, because it won’t. I’ll always be stuck here, under the careful watch of our mother, playing the act of her perfect little son like I’m supposed to.”

He’s right on the cusp of crying, more tears gathering the longer he talks. He shouldn’t have even let himself lose control like he did. He’s had years of mastering his emotions now, but it’s as if the simple presence of Sirius makes all of his hard work disappear; like he’s 15 years old again, watching through his window as his older brother escapes through the shadows and leaves him behind.

“I can help you, Regulus. I’m an adult now, with my own money; I could get you out of there, to the point that you would never have to see Mother ever again.” His face is pleading, hands reaching towards his little brother as he cautiously, slowly closes the gap between them.

Regulus’ chest surges at the idea, filaments of hope beginning to fill in the cracks between his bones. It’s a feeling he swiftly represses, however, because all he has to do is think about the unspoken threats she’d uttered towards him before he left, of the web of familial politics he’s caught in to know that whatever Sirius is suggesting will never work.

The hope dies in him, then, just like every other emotion he’s repressed to the point that they’ve wilted inside his chest like flowers without sunlight.

The sweet relief of numbness greets him like an old friend, making his stare lifeless as he turns towards Sirius. “I wish it were that easy, but there is so much more to this situation that you simply wouldn’t understand. The family has changed, big brother, just as you have.”

Regulus straightens out his shirt as he prepares to leave, making sure his appearance is pristine in every way for when he crosses that door. He never knows who could be watching, and he can’t afford to slip up. Not here. “I am the heir of Black,” he says, voice as even as can be, “and I will grow into the title as every Black did before me.”

He walks towards the exit with renewed purpose, knowing he needs to get out before his resolve slips. He doesn’t mean to, but he lingers at the door, hand unmoving on the doorknob. Five seconds pass before Regulus turns back towards the only other person in the room, not surprised at the way Sirius is looking at him. Betrayal, sadness, and anger are only some of the emotions he recognizes that flicker in Sirius’ gaze, so he forces himself to utter his goodbyes and leave.

“I’ll see you around,” and with a simple nod, he walks through the door, leaving his emotions and his heart behind with his older brother.

[i-willstealyourtoes]

yo yoo do you think you could try something with Hoxton/reader/houston with reader being the meditator? That’d be so cool

Bro.... I am SO sorry this took so long fr I hope it was at least somewhat worth the wait!!

Houston + Hoxton with s/o who breaks up their fights

Houston

- Bro.... I swear they're like two little kids when they fight

- All it takes for something to happen is ONE LITTLE THING-

- 'Where the fuck is my wrench? Hoxton, where'd you put it, I swear to GOD-'

- 'I didn't fucking take your shitty wrench, just like how I didn't LAST TIME, DIPSH-'

- OH my god they just never stop

- As you walk towards them past Dallas, he can barely believe you can do this everytime

- He may be the leader, but he can NOT be bothered breaking them up every. single. time.

- By the time you get there, they are practically inches away from a physical fight, hurling insults at each other non-stop

- 'Yeah well, it's not MY fault that Bain himself gave me your mask? How are you even still mad about that?!?!?'

- 'I'm mad because it's MY FUCKING MASK, SHIT-HEAD! HOW THE FUCK WOULD I NOT BE MAD?!?!'

- I kid you not, at one point Hoxton starts looking through his drawers to take his old mask back 😭

- 'Get your dirty hands OFF MY STUFF-'

- Houston starts to grab Hoxton and pull him away

- This is the indicator that things will get physical, and you should get between them

- 'That's enough.'

- Houston takes his hands off Hoxton (he knows that you'll pull him off anyway), and looks at you, as if trying to convince you that it was all Hoxton's fault

- 'He fucking started it, he stole my-'

- 'I said, that's enough.'

- He immediately stops when your tone becomes more serious and threatening

- Hoxton (who was just giving Houston death glares) laughed at Houston sudden docile nature

- 'Hah, what are you, a dog-OW HEY OW (Y/N)-'

- (That was the sound of you pulling Hoxton by the ear towards another part of the safehouse)

- Houston would laugh, but he knew that after you were done talking to Hoxton, he would be next

- And then his time finally came

- 'Hey, it was his fault, not mines-'

- 'Does it look like I care? You two have got to stop fighting, otherwise it'll be a problem in our heists too.'

- He knows you're right, but he isn't willing to admit it so freely

- 'It's already a 'problem' letting him on these missions anyway, he's fucking clueless!'

- (He's still heated up from that argument, hold please)

- 'You know that isn't true, you're just being childish now Houston.'

- Yeah, you tell him bro

- After a long (30 minute) conversation, he's finally willing to go up to Hoxton and 'apologise', albeit with a lot of reluctance

- 'Fine... fine! I..... I'm sorry. For assuming that you stole my stuff. There, you hap- OW-' (you pinched him)

- 'Hoxton....do you accept his apology?'

- '....I guess.'

- That'll do for now

- 'See Houston, it wasn't that difficult right?'

- (All you hear is grumbles under his breath)

- 'Oh and by the way, here's your wrench Houston.'

- HOXTON YOU SON OF A-

- He's smirking too as he throws it to Houston

- 'I SWEAR TO GOD, I'M GONNA KILL YOU-'

- 'UHHH HOUSTON QUICK C'MERE WITH ME BYE HOXTON-'

- You have to drag him away by the hand as he literally almost explodes from anger

- 'I'm gonna kill him. I'm actually going to kill him this time.'

- Looks like it's time for your secret weapon

- You kiss him on the cheek

- 'I love you ^^'

- He pauses

- YOUR SECRET WEAPON WAS SUPER EFFECTIVE

- He sighs, as he pulls you in for a hug

- 'I think if it weren't for you, I'd be covered in his blood by now.'

- 'Yeah, what'd you do without me?'

- 'Nothing, (Y/n). You're my rock, you know.'

- (Btw, if you refer to someone as your rock, you are stating that they are someone that is always there to keep you sane/from getting lost in your emotions)

- Deep down, Houston definitely thinks that he's better than Hoxton because he has the greatest s/o of all time

- (You)

Hoxton

- Okay so let's imagine the same situation, but instead it's Hoxton!

- 'Hoxton, get your hands out of the drawer.'

- He turns to look at your face

- 'He has my mask-'

- 'Come with me. NOW.'

- Houston does the whole 'oooooo, you're in trouuuuubleeeee' thing as Hoxton walks with you to his part of the safehouse

- (idk why he's like this, he's going to be scolded later)

- 'Babe, you gotta stop stealing his stuff just to make him mad.'

- 'I didn't!'

- You know this isn't true, as this isn't the first time something like this happened

- This was actually before you were dating, even before you two were actually close on any way

- You decided not to interfere, which resulted in both parties (Houston + Hoxton) getting bruises

- Anyway back to Hoxton being a liar (/lh)

- You glare at him, only for him to chuckle nervously then bring out the wrench from his drawer

- '......You didn't even need it, did you...?'

- 'Nope.'

- His look of pure pride is almost commendable, but all he receives as a prize is a slap (a light one)

- Seriously, he genuinely needs to stop doing stuff like this, because one day, you won't be there in time to stop the fight and someone will probably end up with a broken arm

- 'Babe....'

- He knows he shouldn't, but the wrench was right there in front of him!

- Come on... the opportunity was right there!

- As a heister, he's learnt to take opportunities when they're in front of his face, so this wasn't out of character at all

- (Which is a bit of an issue but we love him anyway)

- 'Come on, give it back and apologise, or no hugs.'

- 'Pfft.... wait seriously?'

- As much as it sounds like a stupid punishment, NO HUGS IS NO HUGS OK HE NEEDS THEM

- '....Fine.'

- He's only doing this because he really likes hugging and holding you

- He walks up to Houston, holding your hand before handing the wrench to him

- '...Sorry, Houston.....here's your useless wrench back.'

- 'YOU DID STEAL IT!'

- 'Yeeeeep. I didn't even need it. My bad.'

- You have to quickly pull Hoxton away from the situation, before he makes it worse

- I swear, he's gotta stop fr

- '.....Hox....'

- 'What? You didn't say I couldn't make him angrier.'

- He has so much pride in him as he hugs you

- 'If you do that again, no hugs. Seriously.'

- 'There won't be a next time. Promise.'

- (Yes there will be, everyone knows this)

- He feels surprisingly happy at this point tbh

- I mean, his 'worst enemy' is annoyed, you weren't that mad at him, and he gets to hug you!

- Yep, this is it. He's made it in life.

[velvetineblue]

COMMON MISCONCEPTIONS

tbh I don't really know how other people perceive him, so it's hard to say ! but i'll do my best . . . he's a very complicated character, and i think in times past, he sometimes wasn't seen that way at all. he was seen as more of a simple 'comic relief' or just a typical sort of... protag... guy....... idk. people ( ooc & ic perhaps ?? ) may not always take him seriously as a complex individual because of his tendencies to act playful and/or blasé -- which is understandable !! but recently i've gotten more chances to really show his depth of personality and write him in situations that i feel better showcase him, so !! i don't think he gets misconceived too often now. . . but i'd have to know how he's perceived to really be sure of that, and i don't rly know what's in other people's heads, so JSJAJ idk!!

AN IMPORTANT HEADCANON

one thing about Tai is that he needs a little competition and/or conflict in his life for to him to feel 'stable' and fulfilled. he kinda gets... aimless, bored, anxious, lethargic, and de-motivated when life is too easy, carefree, or relaxed. he always feels like he has to be useful to matter to other people; he fears deep down that if he's not being of use, they will forget about or leave him and he's most useful when solving or working on a problem. this is likely the result of constant chaos in his life and struggling for most of his life, and something he should work on healing from so he doesn't have to live that way, yes . . . but it is what it is and it's not changing anytime soon asjjaj

i suppose he's 'lucky' because in most of his verses, those things are just a given; even when his life is otherwise going well, there is always going to be some element of conflict, fights and resolutions, to be had, and so he rarely if ever has to face this issue ??? but it's an interesting facet of his personality...

A USELESS HEADCANON

he's not officially a vegetarian, but he doesn't eat a lot of meat. he really likes the flavor of most meats: he just doesn't ( ideologically ) love eating animals, and felt that way since childhood. that realization kids eventually have of 'wait... I'M EATING A DEAD BABY COW???' was something he never really got over . . . . . . plus it's better for the environment & stuff not to eat too much meat, and even in verses like crime verse where he's a bastard who sets things on fire -- ironically, he'll still be like 'HEY! BUT DON'T LITTER!' LOL. but he's still gonna eat it sometimes, 'cause he isn't bothered ENOUGH to completely give up the tasty flavors. asjjaj so he will eat meat sometimes -- especially if he's out, like at a restaurant. but it's a relatively uncommon meal for him, especially if he's just cooking for himself at home. . . . he LOVES fish, though. i mean, he still feels a little bad about eating it, but sashimi and chirashi are his alltime favorite entrées, and fish in general is one of his most favoritest meals. so he can't give up fish; he just can't do it asjjaj.

POTENTIAL TRIGGERS

su/c*de can, potentially, be a triggering topic for him: depending on the manner in which it's brought up & discussed. his mother took her own life, and this tragedy had a very, very profound effect on him. so much of who he is and what he believes in relates back to trauma related to his family, this being a huge one of those traumas. (he also had a close friend die in the same manner.) it's not a topic that can't be breached, but there are certain things that will trigger distress, anger, or another uncharacteristically strong wave emotion from him: for example, a lack of empathy towards s- victims, or making jokes at their expense. he also really doesn't like talking about his mom's death, not with anyone-- and if pushed to 'open up', he will become very disturbed that the topic isn't being dropped. so far in his life, the only person he's really talked about it with is his father . . . and even then, the conversation is strained and difficult. the only other person i can imagine he would have spoken with it about is Ara, in the crime verse, because they are so close, and her own difficult upbringing & struggles with her mothers mental health would have enabled him to open up to her... and her alone. otherwise, his mother's death is a door that stays very firmly locked and shut off from people. it takes a really extraordinary amount of trust and comfort with another person for him to open it.

SOMETHING YOU ENJOY ABOUT (WRITING) THEM

everything tbh, if you haven't noticed he i s my little meow meow. my blorbo. my silly rabbit-- no but asjajja i haVE SO MUCH FUN writing him because he's such a complex characters, and there is a motivation behind everything he does: i write him with a LOT of intention. nothing i type for taiyang is without reason or explanation. you can ask the most basic question like 'what is his favorite color' and i can write a novella about it. i can write a novella about anything and everything when it comes to tai which is kind of... nice i guess asjaj although it can be tiring!! but knowing him inside and out makes writing him super easy. and that just comes from the fact he's one of my oldest OC's, so there's pretty much no stone unturned when it comes to him... i've been roating this blorbo in my mind so long, i've thought about nearly everything before!! other muses of mine, i tend to have to do deep digging & thinking to figure them out sometimes. which isn't bad at all!! ... it just takes more work LOL. but tai is so easy now!!

SOMETHING YOU WANT OTHERS TO KNOW BEFORE WRITING WITH THEM

this goes for all my muses but it's so important that i HAVE to repeat it often: my muse is not me!! his opinons are not mine!! his actions are not mine!! his opinions of your character aren't mine!! he is a CHARACTER with his own self-sustained motivations, likes, and dislikes. of course, it all comes from my brain, but in the same way that i can relay what someone else said, but that doesn't mean i'm describing myself or co-signing it: i'm just repeating their words. in fact, there are times where i strongly disagree with what he says or does. because of the fact that he can at times be confrontational, or blunt, and he expresses his 'own' opinions, i cannot rp with anyone who isn't completely understanding of that fact !!

tagged: @clemencetaught // tagging: @yaoogui @ellieenables @hvnbrn / @hatesdogs @pararennial

[thinkingthroughthingss]

Am I Agender?

Hi. I’ve never used Tumblr before, just needed a place to post my essays. Hope here will do. This piece is as rambling, emotional, and unpolished as the opinion expressed in it.

I hate gender. I’ve always hated gender. Gender being the expectations, roles, feelings, assumptions and so on our society deems fit to place on people based on their genitalia. I can remember being seven, crying on the bathroom floor, embarrassed because I had just learned it was impossible to change your sex and even more embarrassed it upset me to such an extent. 

Did I feel like I was in the wrong body? Not physically. It had been ingrained in me from my earliest memories that the female gender is an inferior gender. I wasn’t supposed to love school for the sake of learning the way I did. I would only be getting a degree in case my future husband was unable to work at some point, of course. I wasn’t supposed to love exploring, climbing, running. When I was five, I sobbed when the coach wouldn’t let me on my brother’s all boys soccer team. He changed his mind. The participation trophy we got at the end of the season, a silver cup with a mahogany handle, would be one of my favorite possessions. I wasn’t allowed to play in team sports after that. Only ballet, gymnastics, horseback riding… sports suitable for a young lady. Privileged yet shackled to biblical misogyny. 

It was the worst at church. The box forced on me was so constricting, its presence a continuous background throughout my upbringing, so forceful and ubiquitous I’ll forever feel its lingering effects. Only a few moments flash through my mind when I try to recall. 

Confusion when at a Halloween event with a children’s bible study group, where nearly every little girl was wearing a head covering and holding a baby Jesus. The leader of the group asked each of us what we wanted to be when we grew up. Tiny Mary after tiny Mary stood up in reverence saying, “a stay at home mom” to enthusiastic approval. When it was my turn, I begrudgingly mumbled the same thing, picking at my Princess Esther costume. I had wanted to go as Moses.

Horror when finding 1 Timothy Chapter 2 in my solo bible readings, telling women to be silent, that they were created to be subordinate to men, followed by utter defeat when my mom confirmed men were indeed designed to be superior. The other Christian women in my life weren’t bothered by it either. Meanwhile, I was spiraling. How could a just God do such a thing? I felt anger, hopelessness, betrayal.

Frustration when told to be cautious for how I dress, so as not to let my Christian brothers stumble with temptation over my pubescent body, while, behind the speaker, a blur of pale and brown bodies shadowing the lawn glowing in the warm May sun became noticeable as the boys in our youth group played dodgeball outside, shirts vs no shirts.

Submission when convinced to stay at a women's bible study retreat in college against my better judgment, sinking into my chair in despair. I had angrily rushed to my room when I discovered the theme, “Women as Helpers,” quickly packing my things and insisting I was leaving. “Wait until you hear the message,” they said. “It’s not what you think,” they claimed. Hours later, I was sitting in a small room, old board games and puzzles providing a welcome distraction for my gaze as I attempted to prevent the tears that were forming as the topic moved to the defense of 1 Timothy.

I was feisty about gender in my teen years. A good Christian girl, cross around my neck, promise ring on my finger, I held deeply conservative beliefs otherwise. But nothing seemed to stoke the fire within than a carelessly placed, gendered statement. “You can’t trust boys to remember details like girls do.” “Women are just more emotional.” “Men just can’t be themselves around women.” My response was pure rage. There were no differences between the genders, I insisted. Any differences that existed were attributable to social conditioning. If we lived in a genderless society, a place where there were no such categories and everyone had to get to know one another as individuals rather than apply a set of assumptions based on physical characteristics, these differences would cease to exist and the world would be better for it. I don’t feel like my vagina should dictate whether or not I’m invited to a guys' nights when that’s where I feel I fit in the best, dammit!

Except, as a whole, differences do exist between the biological sexes. I had to change my argument when I couldn’t deny it anymore. Sure, differences exist overall. But if you pick any random woman off of the street, there’s no guarantee she would fit into any traditionally feminine categories. Our obsession with these two boxes we feel the need to sort everybody into is still causing more harm than good. They still don’t exist in reality. They still don’t matter.

Except, to some people, they really do matter. Nothing felt more threatening to my desire for a genderless society than when I learned about the trans movement. Gender identity, gender expression, new definitions… it all felt like society was doubling down on stereotypes with a vengeance. My apparent femininity was thrown in my face, not only by my religious parents, but by my open minded friends as well. “You’re fem, want to go get our nails done?” No, actually my skin picking compulsion makes it very uncomfortable when other people touch my cuticles. “You’re fem, could you teach me how to put on fake eyelashes?” No, I’ve never worn fake eyelashes and they honestly kind of freak me out. “Your feminine energy is really valuable in this space. I wish we had you around more often.” What feminine energy? What does that even mean? But, more importantly, why do these things make me so angry? Surely, it’s just reminding me of the restrictive box I was put into growing up, right? It’s not that I’m not a woman, it’s that society doesn’t know all that a woman can be.

Except when a trans speaker was telling us her experience with womanhood and she summed it up by asking us a question. “Can I speak to just the ladies in the room?” she asked. “You know how you just feel like a woman? I feel exactly the same way. It’s every bit a part of me as it is a part of you.” While I curled my lip in disgust at the thought of one’s gender being some innate part of oneself, I looked around the room in surprise as the other women nodded in understanding. What? Do people just feel, experience gender like that? Yes, according to most cis- men and women I spoke to.

So then what does that make me? Am I a woman harboring deeply rooted misogyny, desperate to be seen outside of gendered grouping? Do I simply lack an experience of gender that others have and even enjoy? For this construct that has always felt entirely made up to me, are these even the right questions to be asking?

A former friend let me know they were nonbinary towards the end of our relationship. They told me they liked gender stereotypes because they were easy to take advantage of. By simply changing their expression, they were able to change the way people treated them. I hated that it worked. Conforming to harmful stereotypes just to get treated the way you want to? It feels like giving up. It feels like caving in to my internalized distaste for all things feminine and abandoning women with a subtle huff of “I’m not like other girls.”

It’s getting to the point where I’m being forced to identify in some way. Every time I’m asked for my pronouns, I’m torn inside because I understand the importance of normalizing the question, but I now realize answering “she/her” means something to our society that it’s never meant to me. If I use the agender label, it’s not because of an innate sense of identity. Rather it’s the complete lack of one. I feel like I can’t escape from it all. I want to use the label to get people to treat me the way I see myself, but using the label feels like it calls into existence something I desperately want to believe doesn’t exist. But if I don’t use the label, I’ll continue to be asked for my pronouns and treated as a cis-woman as though that holds any weight. And to many people, it apparently does! Shouldn’t I believe them and their experiences? Is gender a real thing that people experience? Will letting people know I don’t experience it finally force people to better see me for who I am? Or will I be feeding into the same nasty stereotypes that have oppressed me and so many others for so long?

…idk man.

[myvoicenottheoneyougiveme]

It's always the same thing from you, but did you really think a lifetime of desperation and emotional neglect couldn't produce such heart strings? What music those strings make... had to be false. The alternative? The alternative where you might acknowledge the lock's existence was to face some inadequacy in yourself for not being able to open it.

Therefore it had to be false, and you will fight for that, for the rest of my life. I'm just a predator, not someone you felt you failed. "This" anger and hatred protects you and always has.

You're talking to him again. I'm sorry for ever having been anything like him in the first place, to have had this effect on you. I held you to something, yet you were simultaneously made to feel that you weren't enough. This wasn't just a double-bind, it was invalidating as hell. You returned the favor in kind. Given you're own emotional baggage, you felt TRAPPED. ....So, you trapped. You seized control.

Doesn't matter how "out of control" anything ever felt, "this" began with you and marched in your name. It is precisely because it felt OUT OF CONTROL that you did the things you did and said the things you said. For all the lies, it was easier to name me, to brand me, with everything imaginable, every ounce of dirt you could manage for "this" frame, than feel what this situation made you feel toward yourself. You would bore your own way out, straight through me.

What did you owe a monster? Nothing. So, that's what I had to be and have been ever since.

I held on. I held onto faith in you. I held onto faith in all of you. I refused to see "this" evil for what it was. I fought for my own life, and I thought I fought for "us"....

If I'd seen the things that people were doing and saying as coming from you more than just some open-ended possibility or a lie someone was telling you behind that impenetrable curtain, I'd have seen a lot sooner that "us" was a ship you actively wanted to sink... sink me, sink whatever we had... not bound by it, to no longer feel obligated in any way.

My feelings have always been a threat to you. A heart in me, is a thing you go out of your way to name false and invalidate in every way you can. ...It was my own feelings that trapped you in the first place. You’ve moved heaven and earth to make them count for nothing since, to make anything I EVER FEEL about anything into anything but what it is... so you can go free from what binds you.  ...It's what I have to be, so you don't have to face what you have to face.

__________________________________________________________

you/they said, I was just trying to torture you

you/they said, I was getting back at you

you/they said, I wouldn't just shut up... Mr. President wouldn't shut up... "YA DUN FUCKED UP, YA DUN FUCKED UP, YA DUN FUCKED UP [...]" was the caricature of me.

These charades were almost immediate, like the roles you cast either of us in.

I mean really, "predator" is a response to something. The notion that I was taking advantage of you. Our past is not some kind of grandiose fantasy land where I’ve assumed more than really existed.

You were not someone who just wanted to be left alone. Even if you were sometimes. ...And maybe we both wanted to be left alone, by the time months have turned to years.

You had feelings. You had feelings, for me. Whether for me directly, or just a projection of your own guilt on account of him. You had feelings that you played that I was taking advantage of. “Predator”? Predator of what? Can't shut the door? Why?

I saw someone waiting on me to get it right, and for a time, ...you were.

__________________________________________________________

Another meaning from you, which I wouldn’t take, cause it’s obvious enough what I’ve ever meant for you to even be saying so... but let’s rewind then to all of “this” being a farce. Duh. What’s your point?

And I stood in disbelief, doubted my own senses. You had to make it abundantly clear from as many directions at the same time as you could, oh, god-queen “producer”, Deschanel.

I stood in disbelief. Not possible.

And at the point you’ve done everything and more to convince me otherwise? Why would you lie?

Why would you lie? Isn’t that what it means to have faith in anyone?

Hard to believe, harder to see, but you told me so...

And because you told me so, and you could do no wrong, and you were all these things the world over... any fault you wanted to place on me I couldn’t say no to.

Are you trying to rewrite the charade, the “science” you did when “this” escalation became what it is now? Would you like me to go overdosing on mental health medications again cause you’ve got me so gaslit, that it’s on me. The fault lies with me. I have to find a way. You had me right back where I was. Believing lies and believing things about myself that were untrue and believing things about reality that were untrue. And why not, when you and everyone around me were mirroring it?

I knew deep down and had even been told by someone in authority on such matters, but I let you put all blame for all things onto me again, cause if even my celebrity crush is saying it, then it must be true. The impossible was my charge. It was my responsibility to be connected and open and emotionally available... and “connected” to someone that refused to exist. The burden of the “relationship’s” functioning resting squarely on me. Something I was to do alone, while you told me all these games were enough for your part.

Oh, actor, I thought you were an actor. Get done telling me you’re just that good at acting, now you’re completely side-stepping that fact? Are you not an actor?

You were thorough.

But perhaps more to the contrary of what you’d like to say over the fact that I ever bought into any of “this”, is how much I didn’t feel your “love” for me.

Wasn’t it then your rage to follow? Every time I failed to be filled and overflowing in return?

I was supposed to be all getting up in my head and gushing and WOW DREAM COME TRUE... but all I ever felt was panic. All I ever felt was the inevitability of abandonment. All I ever felt was panic and the scramble to be alive enough for you...

Is this the grandiosity you’re referring to?

____________________________________________________________

re: images of substance abuse

Well, I know I’ve struck a nerve already, having mentioned the origins of the term “Codependent”. I may have misspoken but not by much. The term really came out of those however-many-step programs I think related to alcoholism, but I could be mistaken. Just insert substance here. The term was the technical term for the partner of the person going through said rehabilitation. Addiction, dependency, the addict, their partner was the “co”-dependent on the substance being abused, by way of the patient. Dependent/addicted and Codependent. Can’t remember now if it rose up out of a need to address the needs of the partner/spouse and/or generally the people around the addict to have the most successful outcomes. They needed a name for that person. “Co”-dependent was the name given to the patient’s significant other. And this is in keeping with what I believe was a change in the winds of how to address such problems, realizing that the environment around the person with the addiction was just as important. It’s kind of the same way that I was also sort of considered a “patient” in some settings, when it came to dealing with dad’s Alzheimer’s. That person needs counseling and/or coaching in how to go forward in the situation they both find themselves in.

With that said, the flip back at me is just playing to ignorance or effect by way of fudging these things to somehow be the same.

A person can’t be addicted to “re-uptake inhibitors” or maybe more generally anything else like them that subtly alters the way a person’s body uses the neuro-chemicals it already makes. But like anything foreign a person’s body chemistry is exposed to consistently, the body adapts to its presence. Things prescribed to people for mental health can’t just be stopped once the body is acclimated to them without seriously disrupting their body’s systems. Severity depends on how much and all the rest. They’ve got a name for going cold turkey on reuptake inhibitors, but it’s got nothing to do with addiction.

Addiction, in the chemical “drug” sense, comes from foreign substances artificially lighting up pleasure and reward centers in the brain, rewiring you from the inside out to repeat whatever gave you that high even at the expense of anything else in life. Some “drugs” are worse than others. Some people only have to try a given drug once and they never come back. Get high, get that high at any cost, forever and ever. The self and its needs--your “fix”--comes before anything or anyone else in your life. It turns otherwise good people into monsters.

Nothing I’ve ever been prescribed, and for the most part, nothing that gets prescribed for mental health is an addictive substance. Reuptake Inhibitors for instance, like those that target Seratonin or Dopamine, are actually blockers, hence the name “inhibitor”. Reuptake inhibitors clog up your receptors “inhibiting” neurochemicals from binding to them. Like this is the total opposite of “stimulation”. Caffeine if more psychoactive FFS, and I know enough of you are ALL ABOUT THAT. ...The desired effect here in clogging up the works to inhibit these chemicals from getting where they’re trying to go, is an artificial rationing thereby keeping you from being as “depleted” as you would be otherwise. Drugs like these raise the floor and stabilize mood. They don’t create more. They don’t stimulate. They delay, artificially boosting the free-floating supply by choking how much your brain can use up at any given time. There is a limit to their benefit, and after a point increasing the dosage is just preventing your body from doing the things it normally does. Take too many of these, don’t expect to “perform” on your night out with a romantic partner. Actually, in my experience, you’ll just get really really fucking sleepy besides, like drugged levels of sleepy.

Farce #2--The God-Queen Producer--actually threw quite a fit when I opted to go back to bed instead of doing my writing prompts. It was self-defeating, but that’s how desperate I was. Whatever I could do to keep whatever happened before with Michelle from happening again, I was willing to do it. ...You had me completely bent over backwards, convinced there was something wrong with me for not being able to feel connected to someone I’d never really experienced or actually interacted with. You said so, that was enough. I let you undo the solid ground I’d gotten back in therapy. Now, medicated, still not there. More more more more more. Fix it, fix it now. She’s so demanding. More. More more more more more. Something tells me this isn’t helping any.

How desperate? How willing to shoulder? How willing to blame myself? How willing to accept that it was just something inherently broken and worthless about me? ...You said so. Why would you lie? You said “love”. Why don’t I feel it? Same reason the “word” was ever uttered but never quite shown growing up. Free use of the word. No lack of it. “Love that is confusing” isn’t it said? Love that is contradictory. Love as... if not said would I have known it? A gushing birthday card, seemingly out of character. Something stopping it from being lived out “presently”. Or just a word said by volatile people after coming down from a blow up. Love... a thing I was to do. A thing I had to make. A bridge I had to cross. ...Gaps filled in with good faith and a belief in the best of intentions.

I digress, but perhaps that’s just being back on the original topic. Yes, yes, I absolutely totally completely fell head over heels in love with someone I’d never met. Ya. K. No. Erotomaniac stalker... blah blah blah. Narcissist with internal objects. K. Ya. Soo grandiose. You totally lit me up like a christmas tree. I was so enthralled. By “This”. “This” thing that could never substantiate a god-damned thing in terms of human connection.

Panic. Desperation. Fear of abandonment. ...ya, the stuff a person’s wildest dreams are made out of.

[landinoandco]

Hey could you do one with max verstappen, where the reader a fight about him not helping around the house (witch he doesnt do because he is just tired from working hard but the reader dont know) so they yell at max and he suddenly walks away but then they find him crying in bed, because hes overworked and feels like hes never gonna be good enough at being a driver and the readers boyfriend. And feels like he can only dissapoint the reader, his dad and cristian. But the reader comforts him. Tnx

Because I'm not good enough...

Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: angsty

Word count: 2 k

Requests are open :)

You were sat at the dining room table, staring out at the empty seat in front of you. Your arms crossed across your chest and your lip in between your teeth. You had been sat there for an hour - in the grand scheme of things an hour didn’t seem like such a long time but it was his final warning and an hour was just long enough to allow for your anger to boil over.

Dinner was in the fridge - the same dinner you had cooked an hour ago, your phone lay screen up on the table - the same phone you used to call Max two hours and a half hours ago, he told you he was on his way home. Home whilst you were in the UK was 25 minutes away from the Redbull HQ. This was becoming a regular occurrence, some nights he would come home so late that you had already taken yourself to bed. The atmosphere in the house seemed to freeze over whenever he was around even though you were yet to come out of summer, there was something hanging over the pair of you - unspoken feelings and as of now a red hot anger that threatened to escape from your usually composed nature.

Ever since the championship had taken a turn in the favour of Redbull, Max had started to become much more distant. It started off with him not inviting you along to the races, leaving on the Wednesday before race weekend and sometimes not seeing him until the following Tuesday and that was on a stand alone race weekend. On the triple headers, it could be nearing two weeks until you two were spared 5 minutes alone and even then it was a brief conversation before he rushed back to the factory or to train.

You thought you knew what you signed up for and since yours and Max’s relationship and that was three years ago so you thought you had seen it all - been through it all with him, witnessed every high and every low. This was a new territory and you knew that if it wasn’t tackled soon -

The click of the door lock echoed in the hallway, you straightened in your seat - eyes locked ahead of you and your knee bouncing.

Max sighed loudly and wiped his hand over his face, it had been a long day - he had been at the factory up until Christian had invited him out to lunch, it was nice to catch up with his boss and Max felt like he owed the man so much; guiding him through the years that had led up to the moment they found themselves in. Max felt like over the past years he had matured as a person, sometimes still short tempered but being an F1 driver it wasn’t necessarily a bad trait. After his lunch with Christian, his dad had called him - the less said about the conversation the better. By the time you had called, the last thing he wanted to do was come home and risk upsetting you. He had taken himself on a run - to clear his head and focus on what he was going to say to you because he felt like something definitely needed to be said.

He also owed a lot to you, you had put up with so much over the years and standing by his side even when he had made a mistake - although you were very quick to tell him when he was in the wrong. You seemed to be on his level, a blunt and forward look at life - there was no time for dawdling about when you had things to be done. Life was short and there was no time to waste.

Recently however, he was putting so much pressure and stress on himself about work that the hours slipped away from him and so did the time spent with you. He felt the atmosphere change around the pair of you - as though he was always walking on thin ice, the cracks beginning to show. The guilt he felt was nothing like he had ever felt before, all he wanted to do was talk to you but he was scared of pushing you away - which is ironic because not talking and letting the pent up anger build up was having the same effect. He was never that good when it came to talking about how he felt - as much as he wanted to he felt as though he would be a burden and that he would put too much pressure on you. He could never tell you what he really felt like inside. It was embarrassing, he knew that a professional athlete should never feel what he felt. It weakened him and having weaknesses in a sport like Formula 1 was not an option.

Max shrugged his coat off and walked through to the main room of the apartment - the room where you were sat waiting to pounce as though he was your unsuspecting prey.

He offered a tired smile, in response he got a sneer. Swallowing hard, you felt the anger take over, like some monster escaping from a cage.

“I have been sitting here for an hour, Max -” You shot to your feet, pointing at the table, your voice cracked slightly. “For months, you’ve been leaving me - it’s me who’s been cooking for us both, cleaning, washing - everything, Max. By myself.” You were shouting now, your heart threatening to break free from your chest. Max just stood there, a blank expression on his face - his gaze fixed to the ground. “I don’t understand what went wrong, Max. We were happy, hell, we spoke to each other. Now, I’m alone. In fact, I may as well be alone if this doesn’t change.” The words had fallen out of your mouth before you had any time to consider them - or the consequences. Your eyes went round with shock and you fell back to your seat. A loud silence filled the room.

Max, too, had not expected the words that had initiated the silence. He opened his mouth, eyes still on the ground, then closed it again before raising his head and looking you dead in the eye.

“You don’t mean that.” He managed to mutter, barely being able to raise his voice any louder. He felt a tired emptiness, this was the last thing he had wanted to happen.

“That’s all you have to say to me.” You rounded on him again, angry tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“No - I -” He stuttered, then closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, “I just don’t think we should talk things through whilst you’re angry -” He saw you about to interject, when he raised his hands. “You have every right to be. That’s not what I’m saying. I think we should wait to talk about it so we don’t say things we are going to regret later.” Max could feel his throat constricting, he was battling to keep his emotions at bay.

You sniffed and nodded slowly, placing your head in your hands - hot tears escaping and shoulders tensed.

Max swallowed thickly, his eyes swimming with tears. He made a move and after no interruption left the room. He had only made it to the stairs before he collapsed, the fatigue getting the better of him. He was such an idiot, a fact he was certainly aware of now, how could he have let things get this bad. Did that make him a selfish person?

He couldn’t hold it in any longer, a harsh sob escaping from his mouth - fingers shaking and his head a loud mess.

As soon as Max had left the room, you had gotten up to get some water - when you paused, a sound catching your attention - a deep sounding sob. You waited, a line appeared between your brows. Slowly and carefully, you inched towards the door - waiting with baited breath for the sound again.

It was coming from the stairs and there was only one person it could be. Regret instantly pooled in the pit of your stomach, you hadn’t meant for him to cry. You were just so angry and he needed to know that.

“Max.” You called out softly, unsurprisingly there was no response. You went in the direction of the stairs and hunched over in front of you was your boyfriend - attempting to stifle his sobs. You rushed forwards, placing your arms around his shoulders and pulled his body into yours. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist. You kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair as he continued to cry - you allowed him to empty his emotions out; some tears of your own betraying you entirely.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Came a muffled voice. Pausing, you released your hold of him and placed your hands either side of his face - offering him a watery smile. Then, using your sleeves you wiped his tears away - he watched your every move, waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he braced himself - lips trembling; he knew it was now or never. He had to tell you how he really felt.

“I’m not good enough.” He stated simply, his eyes glossy. Your forehead furrowed. “I’m never going to be good enough to take the championship, I’m going to let everyone down. Everyone that has ever believed in me - it doesn’t matter what I do, how much work I put in - I’m never good enough. And you -” He paused, meeting your gaze, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I keep letting you down, time and time again. I was the one who caused this, I’m never going to be good enough for you.”

“If you believe that -” You began, kissing the newly formed tears away, “Then I will eat your race shoe.” You moved to sit next to him on the stairs, pulling him into your side. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s how you felt.”

You felt Max shrug, the side of his head resting on yours. “I didn’t want to burden you with all of my problems, you already put up with so much.”

“I will always have time for you, Max.” Grasping his hand in yours, “You are enough, you are more than enough. You are Max Verstappen, the fastest, strongest guy I know.” You chuckled lightly, “I know it may sometimes feel like that and that’s ok. You are putting yourself through so much - maybe, it’s time to give some consideration for your personal life. It’s unhealthy to work all of the time - then we run into issues like these.” You spoke softly, almost whispering but you could tell he was hanging onto every word you spoke. “I love you, Max. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You admitted, turning your head to look at him. He chewed on his bottom lip, processing your words.

“I love you too, more than anything.” He murmured, placing his forehead on yours. You lifted your head slightly to leave a soft kiss on his nose, earning the corners of his lips to quirk up.

Closing your eyes, you relished being in his arms again, to have him close to you. You had missed it. You had missed him. Both of you knew you had a lot to work through, that it wouldn’t simply disappear but both of you were going to do it together. Hand in hand. And that was more than enough.

[buckyownsmylife]

Worst Behavior - Chris Evans smut

The one where it was supposed to be a sex scene, but Chris fucked you for real - and he didn’t care that your boyfriend was watching

Warnings: infidelity (reader cheats on oc boyfriend with Chris), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, dirty talk, angst.

Word count: 1.7K

A/N: thank you to my ride or die, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ for looking this over and giving me her thoughts about it. Writing is such a better process with you to scream about it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

I was seething when I burst through her trailer’s door, so out of my mind that the sight of her raising a hand over her heart, clearly startled, didn’t make me feel even remotely guilty.

“So this is it, huh? We’re gonna film this one last scene, and then you’ll be back by his side, like you and I were nothing, like I never even mean anything to you.” Somewhere inside my troubled mind, a tiny, still emotionally sober part of me saw her wiping a stray tear after it immediately fell from her eye, clearly not wanting to show this sign of weakness in front of me.

But again, I was too out of it to care. I wanted her to hurt, I wanted her to feel the pain that I was feeling, after all she put me through. How could she expect me to leave this set like I was the same man that met her? She had fundamentally changed me, by showing me how to love and be loved, how it was possible to find in a single person the answer to all of my needs and desires for my future.

I couldn’t just go on pretending I didn’t know what I knew now. But that’s what she intended to do. She wanted to leave and keep living in the pretense that nothing had changed, that she was still in love with the man waiting for her on set.

I knew for a fact that wasn’t the case. I knew it because there was no way my feelings were one-sided, no way everything we had gone through had only mattered that much to me. I knew her, probably better than I knew myself. And I knew this was all just fear and anxiety, clouding her mind and stopping her from going after what she truly wanted.

Unfortunately, the only way I could process these emotions at the moment was through anger.

“Is that how you see me?” Her sweet voice surprised me, I didn’t expect her to actually respond to my hurt-filled accusations. “Do you think I’m that cruel, that I would just be able to… to leave and forget you like this?”

I huffed, too inside my own mind to relent now. Yes, this is how I saw her, at least at that moment. She was the cause of my hurt, because she was the object of my desires.

“You’re doing this out of your own free will,” I reminded her. “Don’t try to pretend you’re just some innocent little victim in all of this. You have our fate in your hands, and you’re deciding to let it all go to waste.”

At the sight of tears rolling down her cheeks, my decision to leave was made even before she ordered me out of her trailer. I couldn’t stand to see her cry, couldn’t deal with the knowledge that I was the cause for it.

So, once again, I turned that distress into anger.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The air was chilly on set, and the fact that I was practically naked under the robe didn’t help. Neither did the tension between Chris and I. I wanted to make things right, I wanted to reach over and run my hands over his shoulders, relax the muscles I’d come to know so well. But I couldn’t do that right now. Not with my boyfriend watching us.

So I resigned myself to fiddling with my fingers as we waited for the set to be ready. Since it was one of those artistic sex shots, it would be filmed from a distance and there wouldn’t be any lines or sounds that we had to make, just movements to simulate. Which meant that the few people that were allowed to stay on the set had to watch the whole thing unfold from afar, and we would be free to fake having sex while they filmed us.

I don’t think I realized this could very well be the last time I had Chris this close to me until I had his mouth on mine again. I could still feel the emotions from earlier that day right beneath the surface, boiling his blood as he buried his hand on my hair and devoured my lips like he’d done so many times before.

Good thing the scene called for desperation.

I kissed him back just as desperately, wanting to enjoy every second of this experience, even if it wasn’t exactly what I desired at that time. Chris always kissed me so well, guiding me to where he wanted, and in no time at all he had me sprawled on the bed, underneath his larger body. I couldn’t help but to moan lowly when his lips attached themselves to my jaw, and I felt his smirk against my skin.

I couldn’t blame him. The effect he had on me was incomparable. He had every right to be smug about the sounds he could pull from me, Lord knows I’d cried out his name enough times to permanently puncture my own ear drums.

And still, it didn’t seem like it would be enough. The more he touched me - even if it was under a blanket, for a scene - the clearer it became that it could never be enough. I still wanted him. I wanted him forever, in fact.

But just as the realization occurred to me, his thumb slipped over my covered clit, pressing on the little nub and making me jerk away in surprise. “Shhh…” He directed, making sure to cover my face with his bicep so the camera wouldn’t catch my shock. “Just relax so it doesn’t hurt.”

I didn’t understand what he meant until I felt him pulling the flimsy excuse of underwear aside. That’s when my cunt pulsed, just before he positioned his cock and easily slid right into my wetness.

The feeling of his thickness was too much, especially when I wasn’t expecting it. My mouth fell open in a silent gasp, and he moved his arm so the camera could see it, but also turned his head to the other side so they wouldn’t notice his lips moving as he murmured to me, “Careful, sweetheart. Can’t make any real sounds. Not like the ones I usually pull from you. Wouldn’t want your boyfriend to realize that we’re actually doing it, huh?”

Chris’ P.O.V.

My desire for her ran so deep, I could hear my blood pumping in my veins as I fucked her right in front of her boyfriend. Right in front of everyone from the filming crew, for the camera to see.

I took sick pleasure in knowing this moment would be eternalized for history. Everyone would see just how pretty she looks for me and only for me, and no one would ever know the truth.

No one would ever know the truth. That I had her, that she was mine, but only for a bit. That I got to hold her, and have her screaming my name, but I’d never get to hear it again. I’d never get to have her again.

I didn’t want to have to pretend that I forgot it. Like I didn’t know this other side of her, that we never shared these sexual experiences that felt much more intimate than anything I’d ever shared with anyone else before.

It was hard to pretend that I didn’t care underneath the mask of a character that cared too much, because I was that character. I loved this woman just like he did, and I wanted to show her just how much.

I’d looked for her in everyone I’d met before. Slept with so many women, went out on so many dates, and now here she was, clenching around my cock, reaching for my hand and still, she wasn’t mine.

How can you keep looking for the love of your life if you’ve already met them?

And even if there was emotion - and there was so much emotion, ours or of our characters, it didn’t matter anymore - this felt so dirty, dirtier than anything else we’d ever done before.

I’d had her in so many ways, and still, having her now, right in front of him, brought new feelings I never expected to feel. And I couldn’t suffer through them alone. I needed to make sure she’d acknowledged it too.

“He has no idea, you know,” I whispered, low enough so the only person who could hear was her. Her eyes met mine in surprise, but she kept in character, while I took advantage of my position to taunt her more. “No one has. No one knows you only look like this when you have my dick inside of you.”

A moan broke free from her, making me smile inwardly even though I couldn’t smirk like I wanted to. I let go of one of her hands to push a few strands of hair away from her face, so both the camera and I could get a good vision of her expression.

“You’re such a good girl for me, honey. He could never get you like this. Only I can do that.” The way she clawed at my back made it obvious that I was right. And still, the reality of our situation didn’t allow for me to feel any sort of pride in that.

I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to cum and have to pull out of her, let her go back to him and their life as I was left by myself. “I can’t let you go,” I admitted, and her eyes opened up to meet mine, a slight sparkle of understanding in them. “Not like this,” I continued. “Not ever.”

And still, my hips picked up the pace and brought us to that old familiar high, right when I came to terms with the fact that I’d have to leave her. “Baby,” I whispered, this time knowing the microphone would pick it up.

Our eyes connected once more, but this time, there was mostly pain, from my gaze and from hers. I stood there for as long as I could, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, until the director’s voice freed us from the scene, and then I was forced to leave.

Before I did though, I had one last thing to say.

“I don’t want to have to miss you.”

One thing was certain. It would be impossible to remain professional during the press conference.