#she is literally what is on his mind when he frees himself in saw's cell

[jyndor]

what’s fascinating to see is the juxtaposition of cassian as a recruiter (as an axis or a fulcrum) and luthen as a recruiter.

the show has been playing on chirrut’s words in rogue one: there’s more than one kind of prison.

so you’ve got luthen who every episode gives me more and more former jedi vibes - and say he is actually a former jedi in hiding, say it’s not just a similarity. he has made his mind a ‘sunless space’ and thinks of himself as damned because he is using his enemy’s (the sith’s) tools against them - anger, ego, unwillingness to yield, eagerness to fight. “they’ve set me down a path from which there is no escape.” i mean im not ready to pound the gavel yet but he’s definitely a jedi in hiding who has felt a need to use the very tools that he doesn’t believe in. that are antithetical to his very belief system. even if he’s not a jedi, he’s trapped in a world that he loathes, selling the pieces of cultures that have been marginalized and oppressed to fund a rebellion, a rebellion he believes in but cannot serve without selling his soul. that is a horrifying thing.

you’ve got mon mothma who lives in luxury and affluence but has locked her truth away to protect herself and to protect the rebellion - and is in a traditional marriage that began when she was a teenager, a child. for all of her privilege and she does have that in spades, that is something the show is saying - that mon is in a prison of sorts too. vel as well - though she has her freedom when she is with the rebels and with cinta.

you’ve got jung who has been undercover in the isb for six years, who now has to live with the guilt of kreegyr’s rebels likely being massacred so that the isb doesn’t find out there’s a spy in their midst. man luthen that was cold.

but those are metaphorical prisons. and that’s important to remember because ultimately while they are at risk, they’re also not in literal prison. they’re not enslaved like cassian and the others on narkina-5, or tortured like bix.

and a metaphorical prison IS easier to survive, no matter what mon says. the irony is that while cassian has been in many ways lying to the audience and to everyone else in the show until narkina, he’s always known what he’s against. to borrow saw’s words, cassian has clarity of purpose from the moment he is imprisoned. we don’t see him worn down although he surely is exhausted, we don’t see him disillusioned like melshi or in denial like kino loy (who andy serkis says was put in prison for organizing his workplace. fun fact).

he is at serious risk of torture and death but cassian is more alive and more himself than he’s seemed in the show until this arc. he’s organizing, he’s being a leader, he’s recruiting - and he seems like he’s free in some ways. because he knows the enemy intimately like luthen, but in different ways. the fact that he knows the empire thinks they’re not even worth listening to because he’s lived that his whole life, that liberates him to openly rebel in a way that seems counterintuitive. but he’s right. and it works.

but unfortunately recruits don’t always live. shit goes wrong or someone doesn’t get the help they need when they’re at their weakest - kino loy - sometimes someone has to die - like tivik, like kreegyr’s rebels - to get a message to people who can do something with it. like cassian and jyn and the rest of rogue one.

that’s where cassian is when we meet him in rogue one. back in prison, but more of a metaphorical prison (i mean saw’s cell aside lol) as chirrut notes. a mental prison, like luthen’s. like lonni jung’s.

kino loy says that “if we can fight half as hard as we’ve been working, we will be home in no time.”

rogue one is when he can finally liberate himself again and go home.

[ispeaktheyburn]

Okay, Parade closed two weeks ago, but I haven't stopped thinking about Leo and Lucille, so I'm gonna try to finally articulate my theory about what Lucille's "you're finally free" line in the finale means.

At the beginning of the musical, Lucille sees Leo as someone who's sure of himself and wishes she had his confidence ("Don't I wish I could be sure like him, like Leo?"), but "How Can I Call This Home?" shows that he's actually not that sure of himself. In fact, he's deeply insecure about the fact that he's different from everyone else in Atlanta, including his wife, and he "lives in fear" that his neighbors will start a conversation with him. The song also tells us he feels "trapped" in the South and in his marriage, and that he dreams of being free -- but interestingly, he acknowledges that he's trapped "by his own design," i.e. he's the one preventing himself from being free, not Lucille.

I think Lucille's misunderstanding is due to her mistaking Leo's single-minded focus on his work for confidence. But as we find out later, it's actually the opposite; he "hides behind" his work so he can feel "safe and sure of what to say," unlike when he talks to Lucille or his neighbors. When he's arrested, he no longer has his work to hide behind, and Lucille's perception of him starts to change. The first time she visits him in jail, he acts like an ass to both her and the guard, but underneath the boorishness, he's terrified because he's now literally trapped and it's very much not by his own design. When he flips out over the food the guard brings him, he's not just being entitled; he's trying to control the desperate situation he's found himself in and avoid feeling helpless. Same when he flips out at Lucille and sends her home -- he doesn't want to admit vulnerability by letting her comfort him. But when he finds out the case is going to trial, he insists on her being there. He says it's because he'll look guilty if she isn't, but I think she senses that he's afraid and needs her support, and this convinces her not to leave town.

It's not until "It's Hard to Speak My Heart" that she sees just how afraid he is, though. The song is addressed to the jury, but it's really about his relationship with Lucille, and it explains everything about why he acts so distant toward her -- he's terrified of being vulnerable, and this is the most vulnerable she's ever seen him. He's also, I think, terrified that Lucille will believe all the lies she's just heard about him, even more than he is that the jury will (I say this because when I saw the show, he looked in her direction while singing the final lines). But Lucille, unlike the jury, knows he's telling the truth and resolves to do everything she can to save him.

The next time they interact, Leo's been in jail for a year. He knows by now that Lucille isn't going to abandon him and he's grateful, but now the situation is even more desperate; all his appeals have been denied and his execution date is fast approaching. This only exacerbates his fear of feeling vulnerable and helpless and his need to be in control, so he's frustrated to find out that Lucille is talking to reporters and telling them his plans, but I don't think it's really her he's frustrated with; he's frustrated by his own inability to prove his innocence. Then Lucille expresses her own frustration with how he's treating her and gives him a reality check that forces him to accept that he can't control everything from his jail cell. There's a lot of justified anger in "Do It Alone," but it's coming from a place of love; she believes in him so much that she wants to "scream across the whole damn South" until everyone knows he's innocent. At the end of the song, she's saying "I love you; I need you to have faith in my love for you if we're going to get you out of here." Her courage in telling Leo how she feels gives him the courage to accept his vulnerability and let her take the lead.

"This Is Not Over Yet" is the first time in the musical that Leo isn't afraid. He knows everyone else in Atlanta still hates him and wants him dead, but it doesn't matter because Lucille loves him, and now he's seen what that love can achieve. He's found a freedom in realizing he doesn't have to do everything on his own and they're stronger together. Which leads to the realization of his love for her and him finally expressing it in "All the Wasted Time." His demeanor in their last conversation is a far cry from the person he was in "How Can I Call This Home?" Without any of his fears holding him back, he's playful, he's tender, he's content with himself, he no longer feels "trapped" in their marriage, and he's even started to appreciate the South, as his willingness to join Lucille in her fantasy of being on a picnic in the country demonstrates. He's still in jail and doesn't know if he'll ever get out, but because of his love for Lucille (and hers for him) he's more free than he's ever been emotionally. And that's how Lucille remembers him after his death.

[s0urw00lf]

protectors : pack mentality

... I know its been a while, I'm sorry. BUT, here's an update for protectors since I miss Derek so much

Y/n was pissed at Scott and Stiles. Derek was now in jail for the murder of Laura Hale and Y/n was making her way up to the police station to give the officers a piece of her mind.

She parked her car, grabbed her bag and walked into the station. She was met with a deputy at the front desk. "Hello how may I help you?" she asked in a monetone voice. "I want to speak with the sheriff" Y/n said, looking up when she saw the sheriff enter the room. "Just the person i wanted to talk to." She said putting on a forced smile. Stillinski sent a worried glance to the deputy at the front desk, she just shrugged back. He looked at her with his mouth slightly open and gestured his head towards his office. Y/n followed him into the room and he closed the door behind me. “Let him out” She demanded looking the man in his eyes. His faced morphed into confusion “I’m sorry, let who out? And who are you may I ask” “Y/n L/n and Derek. Derek hale, let him out” She replied leaning on his desk. When he heard her a name he let out a gasp “did you say l/n?” He asked walking closer. “Um yes?”. The man just smiled and pulled her into a tight hug. “God how didn’t I realize sooner?” She stood dumbfounded. “Umm excuse me, but why are you hugging me?” She asked shrugging him off. He looked slightly hurt “you don’t know who I am?” He asked. She raised an eyebrow “am I supposed to? I mean other than the fact that your the sheriff” she asked.

“Y/n, Im your uncle. Well not biologically but I was close friends with your dad.. he made me your god father” he said. My face instantly dropped. “What? Your joking” she said slightly laughing. “Y/n I’m not. You used to babysit stiles for Claudia every weekend.” He said. “Why can’t I remember?” I said to myself. Shaking my head I brushed it off to focus on later. “Look Derek, please let him out. He’s innocent. The girl you found at his house is his sister, he buried her to say goodbye and pay his respects.” She said. The sheriff tilted his head a little and sighed “as much as I’d like to help you we have to wait for the lab results to see if we can find any DNA”. Y/n sighed, tired of beacon hills already. “Well can I at least see him?” She asked. The man looked at her contemplating on weather he should let the girl see him. He nodded his head and turned walking towards the door. “Follow me” he said. She smiled excited to see Derek as she hadn’t seen him since hours before he was arrested. Stilinski led her to the cell Derek was being held in.

When Derek saw her he instantly stood up and walked towards the bars separating the two. “Derek” she called reaching the bars. “Y/n god I missed you” he sighed. “Derek you saw me literally last night.” She said smiling looking up at the tall man. “Still too long” he said smiling back. “I’m sorry about Scott and stiles. They said they’re waiting for DNA results from the lab.” She said. “Y/n why would you have to be sor-“ he was cut off when we heard sheriffs phone ring. He looked at the two of us and excused himself. Instead of continuing our conversation we listened in on the phone call. “Hello” he answered “sheriff, we got the results back” the person on the other line said. “ well what are they?” “It was an animal. Wolf hairs to be exact.” “Wolf hairs? We don’t have wolves in California” “well thets what they are.” “Okay, thank you bye” “bye sheriff”. He ended the calm and walked back in the room, “well Mr. Hale, you are a free man.” He said walking over to the cell and unlocking it. Derek and I glanced at each other as the man opened the cell. Derek stepped out instantly pulling me into a tight hug and I hugged back with just as much strength. “Uh whenever your ready to leave” she sheriff said walking away. Before he could exit the room fully y/n called out to him “hey!” He turned around “I’d like to finish that conversation later. If that’s okay with you?” She asked. “Yeah of course, any time” he said and nodded his head as in saying goodbye and left.

Derek looked down at her with his hands now around my waist “conversation?” He asked. She looked back up at him “it’s a long story, tell you later” I said and he nodded leaning down to peck her lips. She smiled and said “I love you. What do you say we get out of here hmm?”. Derek smiled that beautiful smile and nodded “let’s go home”. “I still don’t consider the remains of the hale house a home” she joked. He put his hand in his chest and mocked offense “ I’m hurt y/n/n” . I laughed and grabbed his hands leading him out of the station and to my car.

Y/n walked into beacon hills high school the next day ready to go to class. Well, mostly to watch Scott and stiles but also to go to class. She missed the more simple days when all she had to worry about were her grades and if hunters were in town. But they didn’t matter now. She had to watch Scott and stiles. She was lead to chemistry class by the principal. When she walked in the principal introduced her and she immediately made eye contact with Scott and stiles who were now moving seats. She smiled and waved. Specifically at them. “Miss l/n you can take a seat beside Mister Stilinski. But he warned he can be outrageously annoying.” Mr. Harris said. By the way he talked about stiles she could tell she wouldn’t like him, but she plasters a smile on her face and said “oh don’t worry, I’m sure I can manage.” As she walked towards the empty seat next to stiles. “What the hell are you doing here?” Stiles immediately whisper yelled. “I’m here to make sure you and your idiot best friend don’t make anymore idiot decisions. Don’t worry I’m not gonna hurt you” she whispered frowning slightly at the last sentence. Stiles saw her frown and sighed “look I’m sorry, okay? It’s not you I don’t trust it’s your boyfriend.” He whispered back. “You have no reason not to trust him. He’s a great guy and he’s been through hell and back”. Y/n sighed and looked up seeing Scott looking at her. She smiled knowing he heard her, he smiled back and turned back towards the board.

It was quiet with everyone writing in their workbooks. A girl next to Scott stood up “Hey I think they found something” causing everyone including me to get up and walk towards the windows. Y/n sighed when she saw a man being wheeled to the ambulance unconscious. She heard Scott say “that last not a rabbit” to stiles. The unconscious man shot up yelling making the whole class jump in fear. She walked over to the two standing beside stiles “what the hell happened?” She asked them. They looked at her then the man then to each other. “I did that” Scott said backing up away from the rest of the class. Stiles ruching after him said “okay this is good, this is good, he got up, he’s not dead. Dead guys can’t do that” Scott looked at y/n and stiles “stiles I did that.”. Yn shook her head furiously saying “one of you pleas explain what the hell that was”

The trio now at lunch, and y/n caught up on everything that’s happening. They sat down at the lunch table Y/n beside stiles and Scott across from stiles. “What makes you so sure that Derek even had all of the answers?” Stiles asked setting his backpack on the ground. “Because, during the fool moon he wasn’t changed, he was in total control.” Scott replied. “Besides Why can’t y/n help you?” Stiles asked. “I can’t help because I’m not the same kind of werewolf. I turn into an actual wolf. The full moon affects me different. But I have something to keep me grounded.” The boys looked at her expectantly basically asking what it was. She rolled her eyes “Derek” she sighed. Stiles cringed while picking at the food on his lunch tray. Scott shook his head waving it off “Doesn’t matter look, I ran around at night attacking some totally innocent guy” he said. “You don’t know that” “I don’t not know it”. “Look the point is, I can’t go out with Allison, I have to cancel.”

Y/n heard this and perked her head up. “ no your not canceling okay?” She said. Stiles nodded agreeing with her “yeah you can’t cancel your entire life okay? We’ll figure it out” he said as a strawberry blonde girl came and sat in front of me butting in the conversation “figure what out?” She said as she sat down. “Just uh homework” Scott said saving their ass. She looked at the two skeptically. Stiles between Scott and i and asked “why is she sitting with us?” “I don’t know” “I don’t even know who she is” we said at the usion as her whole clique sat down around us. Y/n and stiles just sat and observed the conversations that were now happening as she wasn’t interested in Unnecessarily befriending a whole bunch of teenagers. They began talking about the bus driver attack, who turned out to be alive. I-I know this guy” scot stated. “Really” I asked. “Yeah I used to take the bus when I lived with my dad, he was the driver” he said. The strawberry blonde in front of me sighed and said “can we talk about something a little more fun please? Like, oh where we’re going tomorrow night”. Scott looked up at her along with Allison. “You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night right?” At that point yn felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. She took it out and saw a message from Derek. She looked around quickly making sure she had her privacy from the nosey teenagers and opened the message.

Der ❤️: I miss you

Y/n: I miss you too

Der ❤️: what class are you in now?

Y/n: I’m at lunch surrounded by stuck up teenagers

Der ❤️: aww wish you were here with me?

Y/n: actually there’s no place I’d rather be

Der ❤️: we’ll only a few more hours

Yn: we’ll it seems like you missed me more. You texted first

Der ❤️: goodbye Y/n My Love

Y/n: Goodbye Derek My Big Bad Wolf

When yn tuned back into the conversation she heard Scott say “in fact, I’m a great bowler” she could tell by the look on stiles face that Scott was in fact- not a great bowler.

————-Time skip: hallway—————

Scott and stiles are now speed walking in front of yn on their way to their next class. “Your a terrible bowler” stiles expresses flailing his hands frantically making Scott groan in agreement. “I know I’m such an idiot” Scott said. Yn just laughed in amusement. “God, it was like watching a car wreck.“ stiles said sighing. “I mean, first, it turned into the whole group-date thing, and the out of nowhere comes that phrase”. Y/n rolled her eyes “you two really are idiots, it’s not that bad” she said.

“Yeah well it is for Scott, his newfound warewolfitude he shouldn’t be “hanging out” with hot girls. You don’t do that” he said hitting Scott’s shoulder. “God you might as well be her bay best friend, you know you and Danny could start hanging out”. Scott groaned again “how is this happening? I either killed a guy or didn’t.”. Stiles mentioning Danny’s name caused him to go off topic “I don’t think Danny likes me very much”

“I ask Allison on a date, and now we're "hanging out..."”

“ am I not attractive to gay guys?”

“I make first line, and the team captain wants to destroy me, and now” Scott said checking his watch “I’m gonna be late to work” he said walking off. “Wait- you didn’t answer my question. Am I attractive to gay guy-” stiles sighed “you didn’t answer my question.” He gives up feeling defeated. Y/n walks up to him and pats his shoulder. “Stiles I’m sure your very attractive to gay guys” she said before walking off on her way home to Derek.

ANNND done with the first part… Ik it’s been a while… I’m sorry… BUT I do have a lot more coming soon

@bellabadacadabra

[the-cult-of-russo]

The Other Woman

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader 

A/N: Soooo. No one asked for this one and I have prompts in my inbox and a multi chapter Billy x OC story I'm working on. Yet… this happened. I was working on an assignment for uni and this popped into my head. Billy lives in my head rent free and I'm not even mad about it. Enjoy lmaooo 

Warnings: cursing, slight angst but not really, lots of fluff (literally and figuratively). It's just a bunch of cute bullshit, don't mind me looool 

---------

Your nails tapped the coffee cup as you sat outside the cafe deep in thought. There was only one thing on your mind. Billy was cheating on you. There was no other explanation for his behaviour the past week and the knowledge of what he'd done was eating away at you. It started a week ago. He'd slip out after work hours saying something came up. Sometimes he wouldn't even tell you where he was going and when you asked, he'd say 'work' as he avoided your gaze before slipping out. Billy couldn't lie to you, you knew him too well for that. You knew his tells and he didn't really lie to you. But you knew when he wouldn't look you in the eye that he wasn't being honest.

Then there was his phone. He'd be on it more than usual and it was distracting him. The night before, Frank had called him and you knew it was Frank because you'd seen the name popping up on his screen. You'd both been watching a movie on the sofa together as you tried to convince yourself that Billy wouldn't cheat on you. But when he excused himself to the bedroom, your curiosity burned. Why would he need to sneak off to speak to Frank? 

So you'd crept over to where the door was open by a crack and held your breath as you listened.

"Yeah, I know…. I'll just tell her I need to work again… I don't think she knows… yeah, yeah, I know… I can't wait for you to meet her, man. She's perfect,"

Those words felt like a slap to the face and a punch to the gut all rolled into one. Billy was cheating on you. Billy was cheating on you and Frank knew about it. Frank who was one of your closest friends, the one who introduced you to Billy in the first place. You'd gone back to the sofa as you dwelled in your misery and betrayal and when Billy had come back out with a wide smile on his face you'd felt sick. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask him, to question him or tell him what you'd heard. You were scared of what he might say. Scared of what this all meant. 

You and Billy had been together for almost two years now and you lived together. You knew of his past but never once had you felt insecure about being with him. He loved you, and you wholeheartedly believed he did. So this felt like it completely blindsided you and your head was all over the place. 

That morning Billy was gone by the time you woke which was nothing new since he often let you sleep when he got up to work. But you'd come to the cafe by lunch because you were drowning in your thoughts back at home. The home you shared with him. 

You blew out a breath, grabbing your cell from your pocket as you rang Anvil. You had a gut feeling and you wanted confirmation. His secretary picked up the phone and you sighed before asking something you dreaded the answer to.

"Hey, Annie. Is Billy there? I need to talk to him," you said softly. The older woman cleared her throat down the phone before speaking.

"He's not here, Y/N. He took the day off," she said warily. Well then. You thanked her quickly before hanging up, the lump lodged in your throat getting bigger. 

How could it all have gone so wrong? You stood, tossing the half drank coffee in the trash as you made your way home with a broken heart. You hardly expected Billy to be sitting on the sofa when you got home. But there he was in all his glory. A burgundy sweater with his jeans and boots, hair slicked back like always. You felt like you were hanging on by a thread. 

He smiled when he saw you, standing up and making his way over.

"I thought you had work," your cold tone stopped him in his tracks as he looked at you cautiously. 

"I took the day, had some things I needed to do," he replied easily. Things he needed to do. More like someone he needed to do. Tense didn't even begin to cover how you were feeling. 

"Look… there's someone here I want you to meet," Billy said hesitantly, glancing to the closed bedroom door. He really wouldn't just… The string of composure you were holding onto snapped.

"Is this some kind of joke?!" You yelled. He looked shocked, eyes wide and confused as he tilted his head.

"Uh… what?" He asked carefully.

"It's bad enough you're having an affair that apparently Frank knows all about but you've brought her here?! You want me to meet her?!" You were incredulous at his audacity. You wondered if he'd suffered a head injury a week ago or something. 

Billy blinked at you with his dark eyes for a moment before he burst out laughing. But when he saw your tearful eyes glaring at him, his laughter died instantly.

"You… you think I'm cheatin' on you?" He asked slowly, like he was talking to a toddler. Your brows furrowed watching him warily as he walked over to you. 

"You've been acting weird all week, Billy. And I heard you on the phone last night. I heard you talking to Frank," you muttered, hating how your voice wobbled. 

Billy looked stricken at how upset you were and wrapped his arms around you and you melted into him despite yourself. He stroked your hair soothingly with one hand as the other rubbed your back.

"I'm not steppin' out on you, Y/N. I'd never do that," he sighed. He moved away, cradling your cheeks as his obsidian gaze looked over your face like he was searching for the answers of the universe. 

"Not gonna lie, I'm a little offended by your lack of faith, but I have been actin' weird so I'll let it slide," he murmured with a soft smile. 

"But then… what was that all about?" You asked, deflating a bit as he wiped away the couple of tears that had fallen. He leaned in and kissed you softly, one of the rare tender kisses he'd give you if you were upset. You were incredibly confused and maybe also felt a little guilty that your mind went there.

When he pulled away, he shot you a grin, looking almost like a kid on Christmas which only furthered your confusion. 

"Wait here," he beamed, dashing off to the bedroom. You really felt like you'd been transported to another dimension where nothing made sense. But then Billy came back out with what you could only describe as a living, breathing, real life Pokemon in his arms. It was a Pomeranian puppy that just looked like a cloud with two shiny back eyes peeking out. 

You made a noise that you couldn't even describe. A mix of a whine and a coo that people often reserved for cute animals and babies as if they couldn't help themselves. Your feet took you over to where Billy was grinning at you and the ball of fluff was nibbling his hand. 

"Billy…" your voice was still a little high, a little pout on your face as you reached out and stroked the fluffy fur on the puppy.

"Meet Cotton Ball. Cotton Ball, meet your mom," he smirked, grabbing a tiny paw and making it wave at you. It was something to behold seeing Billy like this and you almost melted right into a puddle. 

"Wait so… this is the other woman?" You asked with a snort, feeling so utterly stupid for how your mind went there. Billy rolled his eyes with a laugh as he handed over the bundle of cloud to you. 

"Do you like her?" He asked hesitantly, looking almost unsure as he glanced from the puppy to you.

"I love her. Thank you, Billy," you murmured, cuddling the tiny puppy closer to you. 

"I uh… I know that you said you wanted a dog," he started, his shoulder rolling a little.

"Which you shot down immediately," you cut in, raising a brow at him. He chuckled, rubbing his beard a little with a nod.

"I know. But… I saw how disappointed you were and I decided I never wanted to see that look on your face again. Especially not 'cause of me. She hadn't been fully vaccinated and stuff so I've been waitin' to bring her home. Been to see her a few times to get her used to me," he shrugged, looking almost bashful which was a strange look for him. It was cute. 

"I love her. And I love you," you smiled wide at him. His insecurities seemed to wash away at your bright smile and he returned it, leaning over to kiss your forehead.

"I love you too. Come here, lemme show you somethin','' he took your free hand and led you to the bedroom. On the floor next to your bed was what looked like a queen bed shrunk down. It was a dog bed but a fancy one and the cozy sheets looked expensive too. There was also a basket filled to the brim with dog toys. You looked at him incredulously with a laugh. 

"And here I was thinking you weren't a dog person and you're spoiling her already," you teased. He chuckled, a slight pink tint to his face you couldn't remember ever witnessing as he bit his lip and smiled at you.

"Yeah well… my girls gotta have the best. And… I mighta got attached to her," he shrugged easily. 

"Billy Russo has a heart after all. Who knew?" You snorted. He gripped your jaw gently, giving your lips a firm peck before smirking down at you.

"Don't tell a soul or I'll have to kill you. I got a rep to keep," he smirked devilishly. You snorted again, shaking your head as you took the now sleeping puppy to her lavish bed and set her down. 

When you walked back over to Billy, you wrapped your arms around his middle and he responded in kind and held you close. 

"I can't believe you thought I'd cheat on you," he murmured, nuzzling your hair. You felt your cheeks heat up as you moved away and looked up at him.

"I know. I'm sorry, I just… you'd been acting weird and then the phone call, I didn't know what to think," you said softly. He frowned a little, tucking some of your hair behind your ear before resting a hand on your jaw.

"You know I love you, right?" He asked with a furrowed brow.

"I know. Honestly… I've never questioned it. I've never felt like that before. My mind just ran away with itself," you felt bad now and really fucking stupid but he had been acting weird. How were you to know that he was secretly procuring you the cutest puppy to exist? 

He kissed your forehead softly, lips lingering a moment before he cupped your cheeks, tilting your head to look up at him. His dark eyes were full of many emotions and you got lost in them.

"You're the only one I want. Ever since I met you, I never wanted anyone else. I ain't ever felt like this before but all I know is… I'm yours. I love you, Y/N. There'll never be anyone else," he murmured sincerely. You couldn't help the dopey smile on your face as you leaned up and captured his lips in a soft kiss. 

"I love you too, Billy. But… I will have to share you now with Cotton Ball," you teased against his lips. He chuckled, nipping at your bottom lip. 

"You'll always be my best girl," he grinned, rubbing his nose against yours.

One hand dropped to your neck, the other slinking around you and settling on your ass as he kissed you deeply. Just as you were really getting into it, he hissed, cursing and moving away as he lifted his foot. The foot that had tiny razor teeth latched onto it as the dog dangled off his toe. You couldn't help the bubble of laughter that came out of you as you pried the dog away from his foot.

"Feel like I might end up regrettin' this decision," he huffed, eyes narrowed at Cotton Ball who was now happily in your arms. He wasn't really mad though, his lips were slightly upturned as he reached out and rubbed the dogs tiny head.

"Awww. Is the big bad marine scared the lil doggy might bite his ass when he's having sex?" You mocked playfully.

Billy's mortified face had you in stitches. He looked like he'd not considered it until you said it and now he was glaring at the dog like she'd ready done it. 

"We're gonna need some boundaries," he muttered to the dog as he pointed at her, then his piercing eyes turned to you and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter.

"And for the record, I am a big bad marine and I ain't scared of a fuckin' dog," he smirked with a raised brow. You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly as you turned, dog in hand, and left the room.

"Mhmm. Just wait until I tell Frank how you're scared of a ball of fluff. Or the guys from Anvil. Or maybe I'll tell them just how much you love her already," you grinned, laughing when he gripped your hips and dragged you so your back pressed against his front. 

"What I tell you? You tell and I'll have to kill you. I don't wanna do that, I might just miss you," he murmured with a smile as he nuzzled your neck. 

"Russo's going soooft!" You teased with a laugh, squealing when his hands dug into your sides to tickle you. 

Honestly, you never really thought Billy would be a dog person. But you never thought he'd be the type to live with someone and here you were. You never thought he'd be the type to use the L word yet he did with you. He was full of surprises and this was way better than you anticipated. You never expected the other woman to be so cute.  

[fific7]

Into the Darkness / Part 1

The Darkling x Reader

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s literally just lemon zest 🍋 ... I have a vision of Ben Barnes in his black Kefta and riding boots permanently stuck in my brain right now. Attempting to write it right out of there.

Warnings: 18+ please due to NSFW content. Dom/sub interaction, being restrained, coercion, questionable consent (thankfully this is a fantasy universe), sexual content including oral, loss of virginity, rough unprotected* sex. I don’t mention her actual age, but Reader is not underage.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

[My GIF]

The ebony black doors swung open, then were quickly slammed shut again. You heard the lock click, and lifted your head from where you lay sprawled on the floor, chained to the wall by one ankle.

Early that morning, before sunup, you’d been dragged to The Little Palace from the prison where you’d been locked in a cell for several days. And chained to the wall in this opulent room, left alone for the rest of the morning.

After you’d been thrown onto the floor and shackled by the jailer, you’d tried to rearrange your linen slip and undergarments as best you could. They were ripped, dusty and stained from the earth floor of the cell you’d recently been in.

The blue Kefta you used to wear had been ripped off you, when the Oprichnik found you at your family’s small house near Ryevost.

As a Tidemaker, an Etherealki, a water summoner, you’d served in the Second Army but you’d deserted when word reached you that your younger brother had been badly injured in a hunting accident.

You’d fled the Army camp under cover of night and made your way home across country, on a stolen horse. But the elite guards had been sent after you, much to your dismay. What made you so important? Many deserted and were never hunted down.

Your mind went over & over this as you lay there, pressure points on your body beginning to ache from long contact with the hard parquet flooring. The shadows moved steadily across the walls as the day progressed.

And now, it seemed, you had a visitor.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

At first you couldn’t make out much, there were shadows swirling around the figure, but that in itself gave you the answer of exactly who was approaching you.

The Darkling, or General Kirigan as he also now styled himself. The Shadow Summoner. Leader of the Second Army, a powerful man. Your mind spun... what on earth could he want with you? You’d never even seen him before, except from a very long distance away. And you’d certainly never spoken to him.

The shadows cleared, revealing him in his black Kefta and full uniform. His riding boots clicked out another few steps towards you, until he came to a halt, towering over you. You craned your neck to gaze up at him.

You heard your full name being spoken by him, in a low but clear voice. He knew your name? You nodded, swallowing as you replied.

“Yes, moi soverennyi.”

He slowly turned the clawed ring on his last finger. “Why did you desert? I don’t take it kindly when one of my finest Tidemakers disappears without leave.”

“My... my brother,” you stuttered, “he was badly injured, I had to go.” You looked down, “I’m sorry, moi soverennyi, I had no choice.”

“Wrong!” he said, harshly, “there’s a procedure for leave, and you failed to follow it.”

“There was no time...” you said, desperate to put your case to this, the most senior man in the Grisha Army.

“Enough!”

You flinched back as he shouted at you.

He turned on his heel, going over to the large, partly shuttered window.

“I could have you shot.” His head turned slightly, as he looked at you over his shoulder. “Or worse.”

You hung your head, fear spreading into your very bones. If the money you sent every month to your mother stopped, what would she and your brother do? Your father and older brother were dead.

He turned and made his way back to you. Bending over, his hand roughly took hold of your jaw and he forced your head up, so that you were looking into each other’s eyes. His grey eyes looked like shattered ice.

“What would you do to keep yourself alive, hmm?”

“Anything... please... for my family, moi soverennyi. Without me, they won’t survive.”

He nodded, a slight smile gracing his lips. “I thought you might say that.” He straightened up, and stood looking down at you. “I find you attractive, your body is...” his eyes flickered over you like a cold breeze, “desirable.”

A short pause. “I have need of a... companion. To help me forget my daily struggles. You will be that companion. You will take care of all of my needs.”

You realised what he meant, and your eyes widened in shock.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He’d left after that, without saying anything else. Two of the palace serving women had come in shortly afterwards and unchained you, taking you into an adjoining room which had a large free-standing tub in it. You were washed in a bath of fragrant rose oil, your hair washed and put up in a loose bun, and you were dressed in fresh linen robes.

Then they rechained you to the wall and left you alone.

You contemplated what you’d been forced into. He was handsome, very much so. If he didn’t intimidate you so much, and in different circumstances you’d have been attracted to him. Well, you were attracted to him you admitted to yourself, but you didn’t trust him in the least. And you also wondered what had happened to his little Sun Summoner... there had been rumours about those two. But she hadn’t been seen around the camp recently.

Several more hours passed before Kirigan returned. He strode into the room, locking the door behind him once more, tutting as he saw that you’d been chained up again. He released you, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. He pulled you against him, inhaling your scent for a second before pushing you towards a door off to the right.

“Time to initiate our agreement,” he breathed into your ear, “come with me, little dove.”

Your stomach lurched. You’d never been with a man before, never experienced so much as a kiss. He felt your arm tensing in his hand, and he quickly opened the door, hustling you inside. He locked that door too.

You looked around you; it was a large room with a huge bed in the middle of it. Meanwhile, you were almost hyper-ventilating, and he looked curiously at you.

“Are you afraid?”

“I’ve never lain with a man before, moi soverennyi,” you admitted.

His eyes widened, a distinct gleam coming into them. “I will take your virginity?” He gave a small laugh, “This is even better than I anticipated! Do you know, you’ll be my first virgin? All the times I’ve...” he shook his head, chuckling, “and never a virgin amongst them.”

His eyes swung down to yours, “Until now.” The tip of his tongue swiped quickly over his lips, and you knew he was aroused.

You shuddered, feeling nauseous. You didn’t want to lose your innocence to this dark, manipulative man, but you had no choice and he knew it.

He beckoned to you, and you took faltering steps towards him. He stared into your eyes, while putting a finger under your chin. You felt like he was looking into your soul.

“We’ll start off slowly, little dove. I don’t want to scare you too much, in fact I want you to enjoy it so that you’ll always be ready and willing for me.”

He suddenly started unbuttoning the fly of his black uniform trousers, and you unconsciously drew back. He grabbed your wrist. “You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do, yes?” But it wasn’t really a question.

You failed to respond so he repeated, louder, “Yes?” You managed to nod. “Say it!” he ordered. “Yes, moi soverennyi.”

He reached down to his open fly, laying aside the fabric of his trousers and undershorts. Your eyes watched his hand in terrified fascination, you’d never seen what was hidden inside men’s trousers before. You caught sight of the smooth pale skin of his abdomen, dark hair marking a path down his lower belly to a thicker growth of hair.

He freed his erect length from the fabric, and your mouth dropped open. It was so much bigger than you’d expected. This is what you’d heard other girls giggling about, you supposed. It was almost laying right up against his stomach, and it looked like a dangerous weapon.

You heard your name, and looked up at him. He had an amused look on his handsome face. He placed his hand on your shoulder, and you felt a downward pressure. “You need to kneel,” he said.

You did so. “Put your hands on the back of my legs,��� he ordered, and again you complied. One of his hands went to the back of your head, his fingers pulling your hair loose before entwining themselves in it. He pulled your face forward until it was against the dark trail of hair on his belly. You were instantly aware of his aroma, a spicy scent. “Kiss,” he ordered, and you began laying a path of kisses down it.

He nodded, “Well done. Now.... you will take this in your mouth.” He had his other hand around his cock and inclined his head towards it. You leaned back, gasping up at him. “Come on!” he said, impatiently, “you were doing so well. Open your mouth!” Voice getting louder. You hoped no-one could hear.

You reluctantly opened your mouth, and as you watched his ‘weapon’ approaching your face, you noticed there were small pearly beads of liquid leaking from it. He placed his tip right onto your tongue, and you tasted something both salty and musky. “Now you need to kiss and lick,” he instructed. You began licking the head, and you heard a stifled groan from him. You began to intersperse kisses with your licking, and he tried to contain more groans behind gritted teeth. His hand gripped further into your hair, pushing your head forward.

“Now suck!” he gasped out, “and do it all at the same time!” A voice at the back of your mind questioned how that was even possible, but you did your best. “Be warned, girl! I’m going in further,” he told you, “eventually it will be fully in your mouth and at the back of your throat. Don’t choke, and whatever you do, don’t bite!”

Without further warning, he pushed his length further and further into your mouth, eventually making you gag. He pulled back slightly, “Take a breath. And get ready, I’m not even fully in yet!” You gasped in some air, feeling your eyes beginning to water. He paused for only a few seconds, before restarting his relentless push forward. “Relax your throat!” he ordered, before sinking in almost to the base. Tears streamed from your eyes as you found yourself - despite his instructions - choking round him.

He held your head firmly against his groin and began thrusting, but not too deeply. Gradually you realised that unless you relaxed more, this was going to be extremely uncomfortable for you. He sensed your slight relaxation, and to your horror he immediately began to thrust deeper and faster.

By this time, you’d felt something else rubbing near your chin. Just as you were wondering what this could possibly be, he ripped one of your hands away from the back of his leg and shoved it between his legs. You felt two fleshy, spongey globes beneath your fingertips. “Rub, squeeze!” were your next instructions. You took them into the palm of your hand and did as you were told.

He gripped your hair again, pulling at it while forcing your head to stay as close to him as possible, his thrusts building to a crescendo. You heard a prolonged, agonised-sounding groan from above you, he gave three fast, jerky thrusts into your mouth and suddenly warmth flooded your throat. You weren’t sure what this was but you’d no choice other than to swallow it. It was saltier and thicker than the previous liquid. His large hand was on the back of your head, forcing you to stay in position, and you choked again slightly as you desperately swallowed.

You could feel him softening, and he quickly pulled out of your mouth and away from you. Pulling his Kefta closed, he unlocked the door and walked out into the main room. You weren’t sure what to do so remained where you were, sinking down onto the floor a bit, and trying to loosen up your rigid neck & shoulder muscles. Wondering what was going to happen to you next.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He returned a moment later with a carafe of water and a glass. He placed them on the bedside table, then gestured for you to stand up. Producing a washcloth from one of his pockets, he gently wiped your lips and chin, where his juices had left a sheen on your skin. Then he poured a glass of water and handed it to you, telling you to sit on the bed.

“You did exceptionally well, for a first attempt,” he praised you, “in fact it seems you have a natural flair for it. Under my tutelage, you will soon give the best head in Ravka.” You looked confused, and he laughed, “The service you just provided for me... it’s called giving head, amongst other things.”

You looked up at him and asked boldly, “Will I be better than your Sun Summoner?”

He scowled, “Do not speak of her! She is gone.”

You nodded, “Hence why you needed a companion, moi soverennyi?”

He took two long strides over to you, grasping your jaw in his hand. “You may just’ve had your mouth around my cock but that doesn’t allow for insubordination, understand?!”

You nodded, afraid once more. “Yes, moi soverennyi.” And wondered why you’d felt like questioning him about her in the first place.

He was pacing the floor next to the bed. He stopped and glared at you. “Your night of discovery is not yet over, little dove,” he eventually muttered. “Finish your water and lie down on the bed.”

Your stomach clenched as now you knew what was going to happen next. You’d naively thought that perhaps he would allow you to sleep for the rest of the night. But judging by the predatory look on his face, that was not to be.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

The Warden's Notes [10110]

TW: Mentions of Murder, Unsettling Themes, Terminal Illness, Descriptions of Insanity

Notes: Going more into detail with these guys...

Recommended to read this after [Chapter 3]

Word Count: 2.9K

(2/?) [Previous] | [Next]

[Main Masterlist] | [Zemblanity Masterlist]

Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

[10110] - Liu Yangyang

Timeline: K-09

Crime: Murder of the 2nd Degree, Opened a Written Letter containing both a letter and a flyer for the treatment of an otherwise terminal illness from a future correspondent

Sentence Duration: 15 March 2721 - Lifetime

Cell: Concrete Room (02 - 10110)

Special Containment Condition(s):

Keep entertained, he causes less problems.

Keep far away from Inmate 1000.

If all else fails, call Inmate 1011, he always listens to him.

Monthly Observations:

(3/15/2721) Another day, another inmate. The detectives who brought him in told me to keep him locked up, and to never let him out. Strange, I know what he’s in here for, really, but this is a bit much, isn’t it? I looked over what I had of his file and, as much as I hate to say it, i sympathize with him. He seems like a decent kid… Kid, yeah, he looks around the same age as (Y/N), actually. He keeps to himself, doesn't say much. We'll have to see how our interrogation goes.

(4/2/2721) Moonsight. The kid has moonsight. I saw it in our interrogation, the beginning stages, he shouldn't have gotten it so soon though. He's going to face a slow and painful death now and I don't know how to break it to him. I didn't think he was too rowdy at first, until 1011 fucking murdered someone in the cafeteria, turns out 10110 had a field day with that one. It was like a switch flipped for him, suddenly he was instigating an entire fight and... god, it was a domino effect of bull shit. I guess it's technically not his fault, but this piece of shit almost killed an inmate himself. The weirdest part? As soon as I walked in, he stopped. He stopped and said that 1011 started it. Doesn't matter, no free hours for the next week for him. Is it the moonsight?

(5/5/2721) It has come to my attention that 10110 has an interesting hobby of stealing things. Just earlier he tried to swipe (Y/N)'s locket from my pocket, she would've gotten so upset about that. She treasures this locket like it was a part of her. When I explained that to 10110 to get it back, all he did was glare at me before returning it. I also ended up finding all three of Officer Suh's badges that he'd lost. Note to self, check 10110's cell first before ordering a new badge, this could be a serious breach of security. Moonsight is coming along at a slow pace, but as more of the blonde hairs appear, I get more anxious.

(6/7/2721) I was talking to Dr. Kim Kibum earlier, inmate 10110′s main psychiatrist, he recommended for me to provide some other form of entertainment for the inmate, supposed to distract him from developing anything too severe while he sits in his room and, hopefully, slow the effects of Moonsight. This is probably to avoid repeating what happened to 1011, so I did just that. I asked 10110 what kinds of things he's interested in, then I ended up ordering cans of spray paint and markers and left them in his cell. I was surprised to see all the things he drew, but I was more concerned about the many times he repeated my daughter’s name. Maybe it's just my old eyes, there's no way he could know that. I hope it's not just the denial, but some of his drawings are... concerning.

(7/8/2721) Last month we admitted inmate 1000 into the Sector. Both of us learned very quickly that 10110 literally hates him. As soon as 10110 saw 1000 he jumped at him. Mind you, this was in the cafeteria, the kid grabbed a tray and bashed it over 1000's head twenty times. It took me and 1011 to pull him off, and even then, we had to call in Officer Lee and Officer Suh to properly restrain him. Up until this point, 10110 had been pretty mild save for the even with 1011 killing someone, but never did I expect him to lash out like that. 1000 says he's fine, maybe a little shaken, but still. Note to self, keep these two far away from each other. The moonsight is undeniable now, I've ordered hair dye for him at his request, when the moonsight episodes finally end and he relaxes again he's still the same scared kid who came in. He doesn't want anyone to know.

(8/2/2721) This kid… I know it's the moonsight, but fuck what’s up with him? I just can't believe the illness got him so quickly. He's having an episode right now, won't do much and won't cause trouble at least. I don’t understand him at all. Some days he just spouts nonstop bullshit, asking me about shit I don't even remember. Can't blame him, maybe we did know each other in his last timeline or something, but he has to understand that we're not the same. Just today, he walked up to my office during Free Hours with a huge smile on his face and asked me if I was planning anything important. I was, (Y/N)'s birthday, actually. I always seem to be busy on that day so I planned ahead for once. Then, and this freaked me out a little, he told me to get (Y/N) Mariogold flowers for her birthday. How did he even know I was planning for it? I'll have to double-check the locks in this office.

(9/6/2721) Inmate 10110 keeps talking about her… it’s scaring the hell out of me. How do these inmates know about (Y/N)? I don’t let her anywhere near this damn place, I'm too scared that she's going to hear something and get curious and come in here. Her curiosity will be the death of her, I swear, Ten's having a hard enough time keeping her busy. Shit, I should revise this, 10110's telling me things about her. Her favorite color, her favorite food, favorite book, everything. And when I go back home to her and ask her about these things… it turns out he’s right. Maybe my theory that he knew us in his timeline is right, but it's interesting how these things carry over. I need to ask him how he knows us. My main concern is that one or both of us have something to do with his crime.

(10/15/2721) Inmate 10110 has been acting out so much more lately, lashing out at the other inmates and whatnot. We've long established that he hates inmate 1000, to an unhealthy degree actually, I was watching them through the cameras and the first thing I saw was 10110 hurling a syringe towards 1000. Note to self, remind nurses to keep sharp objects locked. I removed inmate 10110′s free hours for the month. I can’t risk any of the other inmates possibly getting killed by him, it’s not safe for them or for myself. Ever since 1000 got admitted here, 10110 has gotten more and more dangerous. It's like he has no care in the world. Not to mention the kid can be fucking unhinged sometimes, I think he made Officer Lee cry, for god's sake. Really knows where to hit it where it hurts.

(11/5/2721) I had to break up a fight between inmate 10110 and inmate 1000 again. I just don’t understand why they hate each other, when I talk to 10110 he’s always so cryptic about it, mumbling something along the lines of ‘he hurt her’ but what the blazes is that supposed to mean? 1000 has no clue either, I questioned him about it. This kid might be the death of me. He keeps finding different ways into the office, this is the one place I'm supposed to be safe from these fuckers, and this kid keeps finding a way in. No matter how often I change the locks, he finds a way in. It's only a matter of time before he finds a way out. 10110's much smarter than he lets on, apparently.

(12/8/2721) Inmate 1000 almost killed 10110. I was monitoring in my office when 10110 broke a glass bottle next to 1000 (Note to self, change supplier, glass bottles are too dangerous, metal bottles are the only other alternative that will last long enough and in this pressure). I don’t even know how he got the bottle, it should have been locked in the mess hall. But, interestingly enough, was the fact that 1000 reacted this way at all. Up until now, he'd been defensive (understandably so) around 10110, but this was the first time I saw him react this way and, of course, 10110 responded in kind. At this rate, it's like 10110 is purposefully looking for a reason to kill 1000.

(1/1/2722) This month was strange for Inmate 10110. I’ve seen his depressive episodes before, but they’ve never lasted this long. He's been like this for two weeks now, and I hate to admit it, but it's really freaking me out that he's not bouncing off the walls. I even saw 1000 come to try to provoke him, but 10110 just stared at him and went back to drawing circles on the wall. Every time I tried to talk to him, he wouldn't respond. Until just yesterday. He broke into the office (of course), and he just waited for me to come in. Once I did, he just asked if (Y/N) was doing alright. When I asked why he would ask that, he looked up at me and said 'you know she's worried about you, that's what she does, she worries. She worries, and she worries, and once she worries too much she acts. She acts, and then that's how she dies.' I still have chills thinking about it, and that was weeks ago. (Y/N) is fine. She'll be fine. She has Ten to keep her out of trouble, at the very least.

(2/27/2722) Man, fuck Yangyang. My first day in this hell hole couldn't have been any worse. It's already hard enough that I have to sit in this office that's just surrounded by things reminding me of him, I can't even get the time to grieve with this little shit here. The first thing he did to me was steal all of my damn keys and throw them around Sector V. If Kun didn’t yell at him to give them all back to me I’d still be searching for them. So this is the problem inmate I was warned about by Johnny, god, this kid’s going to make me hate my job, I already know it.

(3/4/2722) I was reading the last Warden’s Notes and going through the tapes from the interrogations too, but I still can’t understand what’s going on in Yangyang’s head, it’s like he has his own world in there. I get he has Moonsight, poor guy, but I never knew it to do this. Maybe it's an effect of having it for so long. He keeps telling me that he has this big plan for when he gets out, but I don’t know. He’s not all there, I think, not anymore at least. Maybe Dejun hit him in the head too hard while trying to not get killed, but Yangyang can be a mischievous shit sometimes, he likes to try to get into places he doesn't belong and he likes to rile people up until they lose their patience then he gets hurt and makes more work for everyone, geez.

(4/2/2722) I can see why Hyunjun just straight up gave up on figuring out what’s between Dejun and Yangyang. These two are just never going to see eye to eye, and Yangyang keeps droning on about shit that Dejun has apparently done, but when I bring it up to him he has no clue. It's all one-sided. Yangyang wants Dejun dead and Dejun wants to not die. It's not like Yangyang doesn't get along with other inmates, he just happens to hate Dejun with every fiber of his being.

(5/4/2722) I was doing my regular inspections of the cells when I found something… eerie, I think the word is. Underneath Yangyang’s stash of paint supplies I found (Y/N)’s locket, the silver one I got her for her sixteenth birthday, actually. I remembered her telling me that she gave it to her dad to have it cleaned. Why’s it in here? Actually, why does Yangyang have it? No, wait, I swear I saw (Y/N) wearing it today? Maybe this was a spare that Hyunjun got in case he lost it while he was in here. Either way, Yangyang insisted that it was his and literally wouldn't stop throwing things at me until I put it back. I'll just see if (Y/N) is wearing it tomorrow to confirm.

(6/10/2722) Hyunjun mentioned it in previous posts, but Yangyang's weirdly good at getting through locked doors. Every time we try to change the locks, he figures out the mechanism and breaks it open anyway. The only one he hasn't broken through is the one to his cell, thank god.

(7/2/2722) I was going through his cell again, the locket thing bothered me so much. I was right in that (Y/N) was wearing hers, so what was this one? Yangyang still insists that it's his and that I "keep my grubby little hands off of it" but still, it's kind of freaking me out. Not to mention, maybe I was just imagining it, but I swear I saw (Y/N)'s name in that cell, all over the place, actually. Nah, no way, I'm imagining it, I am. I've been working so much overtime maybe it's just me missing my best friend.

(8/5/2722) Yangyang's having what me and the others have titled a "low month." The cells opened up for free hours and he stayed put. He gets like this sometimes, and apparently always on January and August. He's just inconsolable around these times. He won't talk to us, he won't say anything, and he won't even make a sound. Even Dejun can't bother him. Yangyang just stares at him and shakes his head. Maybe we're going crazy, but it sounded like Yangyang even apologized to him. If he did, no one heard it clear enough.

(9/2/2722) And he's back to his trigger-happy self. Breaking shit left and right. First a medicine cabinet, then Dejun's arm, and next a spray paint can. All in one day, I'm actually impressed. It's like the entirety of last month just didn't happen for him. I asked him about it and he just avoided the question, I'm pretty sure it's got something to do with his last timeline then, or something.

(10/10/2722) How do I start this? Yangyang just doesn't give a shit about the fact that he's here. If anything, it's like he prefers it here or something. Despite clearly having the abilities to probably break out, he choses not to. He just likes to rub it into my face and everyone else that he probably could if he wanted to. I'll install more steps to the process, just in case. Looks like Hyunjun put in the appeal a while ago, I'll follow up with it too then.

(11/5/2722) I know Hyunjun wrote about it in previous entries, but I never really heard Yangyang talk about (Y/N) until now. He says that sometimes he can hear her voice, it talks to him, it, and I kid you not he said this, it "comforts" him. Yeah, he's officially lost it. I'm just trying to remember if there was a point where (Y/N) could've been close enough for him to know her. I asked if he knew her in his last timeline, and he said yes. That explains a lot of things, actually. It doesn't look like he knows about my (Y/N). Let's keep it that way.

(12/7/2722) Yangyang ranted to me about Dejun again, but what's new? It's just weird that he did it for a month straight. Every day something new and every day some other thing to nitpick him on. Recently, the first thing Yangyang has been asking when he comes (breaks) into the office is "Hi, Ten! Which one am I talking to today? Good cop or bad cop?" I understand what he means, especially when we do interrogations, I have to be more stern, versus when we're out of that room and can be more casual.

(1/3/2723) Yangyang's still ranting on Dejun, he's relentless. But, the fact that Kun's been telling me to keep an eye on Dejun too, maybe they're both on to something. I wonder if they're working together, but nothing seems to have changed on Dejun's part. I wonder what the hell Yangyang's on sometimes.

(2/9/2723) This shit is more fucked than I could imagine… I think I’m losing my mind and it’s not just because of Yangyang, what the hell is going on in here?! And if what Yangyang told me was true… Can I even trust myself?

General Tag List: @vickylamore @chxngyunie @sehunnies-hunnie96 @yangsrose @bat-shark-repellant @cloudreads @raeincitizen @here-aeth @lune1897 @gaiyofanfiction @jaeminsespresso @umbralhelwolf @morningsunandnightsky

NCT Tag List: @cherrylovr @eggoyu

Zemblanity: @leesalts @hoshitaro @beefchippp @watersvn @yukine-smx @chelsea-smiile-x3 @fruityutas @rikitual @sophie-rebecca17 @hearts4yang @oofimdumb @haechans-sunflower @shyshybabyy @moonji-v @mellowmarigolds @nichobins @jonggdae @pukupukupawpau

Unable to be Tagged: @mizzdivagirl7-blog @elwiwiwi

If you want to be added to either tag list just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

[onceupona-chaos]

The Storm

Notes: So, I did something. Maybe there will be a part II, but I wanted to post this one first and now I can only hope whoever read this, might enjoy it. Also, forgive for any mistakes, English is not my first language, but I wanted to try something knew and practice a little.

Warnings: language, self-harm and slightly NSFW.

Enjoy! 😊

Elain was trying hard to pretend she wasn't picking a fight with a bush after spending the entire afternoon working in a elderly faery's garden. She didn't know how old Arya was and didn't ask either. Despite the wrinkled face that made her expression look grave at first sight, Arya was gentle enough to bring a fresh lemonade cup every few minutes. Even if Elain hadn't finished hers, it would be replaced by a full cup with two ice cubes and the right amount of sugar - and a warm smile from Arya.

So when she had sent word asking if her garden could be fixed, Elain gladly embraced the distraction, even though it didn't seem to be a particular good day for gardening, if the cloudy sky was any indication.

Kneeling on the dirt, she had been digging and pulling for hours now as she tried to get rid of the ivys surrounding the beautiful blooming roses.

Usually her gardening was a pretty distraction - her mind would focus entirely on what she was doing, her hands moving on their own accords, until every single thought that made her throat tighten was nothing but mist in the distance.

But lately something's changed.

Hateful thoughts, old anguishes, almost familiar as any part of her body, and new ones found themselves in her mind, making her remember what she longed to forget. She didn't bother to wear gloves, wanted the feeling of rough rocks and sharp thorns against her skin. Wanted to focus on the physical pain, to be as far away from her own mind as possible.

And yet it wasn't enough to keep those too many thoughts, cravings and needs at bay.

Her frustration grew with each passing second, her work getting sloppy when a thunder filled her ears.

It was definitely not a good day for gardening.

Elain couldn't decide what was worse: that her work no longer pushed her thoughts away or that she was literally fighting a stubborn rose bush, pulling a branch out with both hands and groaning a curse that would make Cassian proud.

Elain pulled and pulled, the branch slowly, Gods, so slowly giving up - and then it broke in half, leaving the part covered in thorns still buried deep in the ground. She didn't hesitate though, just wiped the sweat off of her forehead, grabbed the branch, thorns and all biting her skin, and started again.

When Arya came back once again, the lemonade cup hit the ground.

She looked at Elain, taking in the blood staining her cobalt dress, big red drops running down her hands. "It's nothing to be worried about, it's already healing."

It wasn't a lie. But Arya still insisted that Elain went home, claiming that a beautiful lady like her shouldn't remain covered in blood and sweat. A scream caught in Elain's throat that bagged for a few more minutes of distraction, just a few more. But she knew Arya was thinking about her well being, so she made a gentle smile bloom on her face and thanked her for the limonade.

"Hurry up now or you're going to get caught in the storm."

Indeed, Elain could already smell the rain, the air charged with electricity, the wind colder than usual, the promise of thunder and lighting.

Yet her steps were lingered, heavy as she walked by the vibrants streets of Velaris

When the first drops came… she tilted her head and let them pour over her, only wishing it could wash away every burden in her heart.

It didn't take long for the cold rain to soak her, making her own bones shivered. A walk back to the lake house would took long enough to make her catch a cold and since being stuck in a bed was the last thing she needed, Elain made her way to the town house. It was still empty, but at least she could warm up and wait for the rain to pass by.

Elain had just crossed the front door and immediately sighed as she felt the cozy warmth. She was freeing her hair from the braid, combing it with her fingers, taking in the sitting room of the empty house - and froze. Because that was a very, very light fireplace. She only had time to take a step back when the scent of mist and cedar hit her nose.

_______________

After a long visit to the eyes and ears under his command, one would think Azriel would take a warm bath and go for several hours of sleep to put away the feeling of the cold rain against his wings that had chased him for miles and miles.

He could have winnow into shadows. But he hoped the exhaustion of flying through the storm combined with a hot bath to relax his sore muscles would help his body to give in to some poor, few hours of sleep.

Azriel had just gone out of the bath, his hair still damp, when he heard the front door shutting. A shadow curled around his ear, registering someone's presence, and he made his steps quiet as death, aiming for the sitting room.

He hadn't seen Elain alone since Solstice and even at the few dinners on the river house he still tried to attend, Azriel could barely look her in the eyes, the memory of her pain too much for him to handle.

But there she was.

She was staring at him, wild-eyed, soaked to the bones. He allowed himself to drink the sight of her, let his eyes travel slowly through her face. Usually, in those dinners, he would hardly steal a glimpse in her direction - well aware of Rhysand's eyes almost daring him to challenge his orders. But here, alone… It was exactly this kind of situation he tried so hard to avoid, knowing it would be the death of him.

Azriel's eyes dropped to her body, the wet fabric hanging to every curve, and spotted the dark red stain on her dress. He scanned her furiously, looking for injuries, stooping at her bloody hand. There were only a few drops, the rain must have washed the blood away - but it was enough to make him want to roar at the sight of it, the predatory instincts inside him ready to kill and kill and kill whoever was responsible. Before he could say anything though, Elain blurted, "I… I thought the house was empty."

Her voice was almost a whisper above the rain, but the words hit him with the force of a thunder. Azriel swallowed hard. He knew she wasn't looking for him. Not after Solstice. But the way she'd say it...

Without even thinking, he closed the distance between them. Elain lifted her chin to keep her gaze locked with his.

Even in a filthy, soaking dress, her damp hair grabbing to her neck, her bloody hand… She was so breathtakingly beautiful, so full of light.

He took her hand in his, so delicate between his scarred fingers. The soft skin marked with small scars, no doubt from her gardening. He turned her hand, exposing her palm and saw the multiple, small bruises. His calluses brushed hers as he asked, "What happened."

She was shaking slightly, not only from the cold rain, "Usual gardening."

He couldn't take it. It was some kind of cosmic joke to be in an empty house with her, so many words hanging between them. He wanted her to know them all, but some he didn't know how to say, and others he couldn't .

Azriel almost choked on his own pain. He stared at her, letting every feeling unsaid, his own longing and despair, rise to his eyes, unable to stop it as he whispered, "I'm sorry."

Her doe eyes flickered, and Azriel knew she saw beyond those words. She knew he wasn't talking about her bruised hand still in his, the only connection between their bodies.

And when Elain squeezed his fingers, he knew she understood him. Perhaps not everything, but enough.

Azriel didn't know for how long they stood there, watching each other, their hands still intertwined, the rain pouring outside, the sound of heavy drops hitting the roof interrupted only by the rumble of thunder. Without knowing who moved first, he realized his face was inches from hers, enough to share breath. Elain inclined her head and brushed his nose with hers, the gesture so tender.

A moment later, their mouths collided at last and everything else faded away.

Her mouth was soft against him, and the scent of jasmine, honey and rain filling his nose made his eyes roll back behind his eyelids.

Such a sweet kiss as if The Mother or whoever was wanted Azriel to just have a taste of what he couldn't have. Despite every cell in his body screaming at him, Azriel made to pull away, but Elain held him in place and brushed her tongue against his bottom lip. He moaned her name and yielded himself to her.

The kiss wasn't desperate or frantic as Azriel had imagined it would be for so fucking long. No, the kiss was slow and deep, like pouring honey. Their thongs danced with each other, stroking and caressing.

And her taste… like honey and spring sunrise. He couldn't get enough. He needed more, needed her printed in his very bones, until their souls intertwined.

He was breathing hard, one of her delicate hands wandered across his chest and arms, the skin beneath her fingers burning. Elain traced every muscle, every inch of tattoo ink, as if to reaffirm he was real, that he was there. She buried her other hand into his hair, pulling slightly, and Azriel let out a sound between a moan and a purr, barely audible above the rain.

The world faded away and there was only her, only her mouth, her scent, her body. He needed her closer, wanted to merge himself with her so they would never be parted.

Everything about that kiss was so sweet and so sensuous as if it was a song sent from heaven to lure him to the deepest of hells, where every sinful idea would take form. It was his paradise and ruin, and he was utterly, thoroughly hypnotized.

He'd lovers, many throughout the centuries. But he never felt so drowned, so lost and found at the same time. Nothing had ever felt so good, nothing. Azriel could only pray to the old gods that at least one part of him would be his at the end of it.

They continued that taunting dance, touching, exploring, seducing. Their tongues met stroke for stroke until Elain parted and sucked on his bottom lip, and any sane part of him ceased to exist.

Azriel groaned and his hands moved from her waist to find that generous, gorgeous backside of hers, squeezing possessively with both hands, making her moan into his mouth. Elain ondulated her hips, pressing herself against him, and gasped when she felt exactly how much she was affecting him. How much power she had over him. A small smile curved her lips and Azriel traced it with the tip of his tongue.

More more more

Azriel could feel her shaking in anticipation, smell her arousal in the air.

He was going to devourer her inch by inch. He was going to -

Elain suddenly pulled back just enough to look at him in the eyes, and Azriel almost fell on his knees. Sheer desire was printed on her face, those pink, perfect lips swollen, making his mouth watering. A blush stained her cheeks, and he wondered what other places he could make her blush. He needed to know them all.

But all of that was nothing compared to that look on her face. The honey-brown almost entirely gone, her eyes flashing with molten desire as if those black expanded pupils were windows to her soul and his particular way through.

Both of them were breathing each other's air. Elain stared and stared and stared at him as if she was undoing every single wall and shield he'd ever raised.

Azriel let her. Didn't need them with her anyway.

He cupped her face with his hand and brushed her cheek with his thumb, making her shiver. His eyes never left hers, and he could almost see a bridge of light and dark taking form between their souls, honey-brown and hazel in each end.

When his thumb moved to trace her bottom lip, Elain cupped his hands with hers, mouth parting slightly before she kissed the tip of his finger. Azriel didn't know who he was, where he was, because there was only her, only that female accepting every part of him.

Then Elain sucked his thumb into the wet heat of her mouth. Pure desire ran through his body like a lighting straight to his groin, and he had to brace his other hand on the wall to keep himself standing, to not fall on his knees.

Elain let go of his thumb, her eyes glimmering in a way he'd only dreamed about. She inclined her head, baring her throat, and Azriel knew he was in deep shit.

He couldn't help the sound that came out from somewhere deep inside of him, his nostrils flaring at the sight of her delicate, creamy skin covering her pulse point and totally exposed to him - and only him.

Offer and permission.

A thunder rumbled outside, but all Azriel could hear was his blood singing her name as he lowered his head and brushed his nose along the side of her neck, breathing greedily and letting her scent fill his nose, his lungs. Elain arched a little, asking for more.

More

Azriel then kissed her neck tenderly. Wanted to savor every second of it, every taste of her. Didn't want to rush this - not with her, not when he had the chance. He prayed that the storm would never end, wanted to take his time, worship every part of her body until one stroke at the right place would be all that would take to make her come. Hard.

He kissed the spot beneath her ear and where her neck met her shoulder. Elain's hand tightened, pulling his hair in silent command. Azriel bared his teeth, brushing his canines against her pulse point. He pressed lightly - just enough to make his teeth sink into her skin, claiming her.

Elain moaned louder at the sensation and tightened her hold on his hair - and pure male smugness washed over him. Because he was the one she bared her throat to. It was his mouth on hers, his hands covering her ass. He could already smell his scent on her, mist and jasmine, cedar and honey.

And it was his name she moaned.

"Azriel."

Before Azriel could unleashed himself, he first dropped to his knees.

[isabellitah]

Title : Our Wife

Pairing : Sakusa Kiyoomi x Female!Reader x Miya Atsumu

Warning : blood ig, curse words, attempted rape, torture, and mentions of death

Credits : to the artists regarding the drawings of Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu found on the banner- i saved them from pinterest I think.

Note : do not copy or repost this anywhere else. I do not write Haikyuu!! fics anywhere else.

Y/n Miya-Sakusa was scared. No- scratch that- you were terrified.

You wouldn’t show it to your captors though- your husbands taught you to never show fear- but Jesus Christ- you were terrified not only for yourself but more so for your unborn child- a child you didn’t even know existed until half an hour before you got kidnapped from your own room. For the past hour that you’ve been tied to a chair in the middle of the room, they haven’t touched your body. The same couldn’t be said for your face. Half of your face was covered in slightly dried blood; blood that came a wound you got when they slammed your head against the edge of your beside drawer to knock you unconscious, and a spilt lip that was still bleeding slightly from when they punched you when you spat at the face of the person who demanded your husbands’ locations and the locations of all your warehouses. The thought alone made you scoff- you’re no rat. Unlike whoever the hell gave your home’s location away. Your husbands were going to be so pissed when they find you gone and your shared room thrashed about.

Sitting on the wooden chair was become a pain in the ass. Literally. You couldn’t even escape because of the metal cuffs attached to your wrists, forearms, and ankles and they took your daggers away. You’re stuck and all you can do it wait. Wait for either your husbands to burst through the door or wait for your promised torture session and possible death.

Minutes- hours- who knows how long later, two men in black barged into the room, startling you from your daydream carrying knives with guns in their holsters. Well... looks like your Omi and Tsumu are too late huh...

“Ready, Princess?” thing 1 with an eyepatch said with a smile, showing his yellow teeth, “Boss said we gots to kill ye before yer husbands get here. Ye know, so they barge in ‘ere only to see yer bleeding body. Even better if they get to see yer naked corpse, doncha think?”

“Boss said not to rape her tho-” thing 1 interrupted thing 2, “what boss doesn’t know won’t hurt ‘im. And besides- I wanna leave Miya a surprise for stabbing my eye.”

And just as thing 1 started moving towards you, a scream was heard from outside the door and echoed into the room, sending shivers down things 1 and 2’s spines. You, on the hand, smiled. They’re here... fucking finally.

“What was that?” Thing 2 looked around nervously. Huh- he must be new to the business. Poor guy he won’t make it far at this point. Thing 1 shrugged, “eh who cares? There’s no one we can’t kill.” he boasted. Dumb overconfident pig.

Another scream rang through followed by a shout of terror, “THEY’RE HERE!” that was cut off as a loud gunshot echoed through the walls followed by a series of bangs and clangs. The familiar sound brought you off guard- they brought everyone? You were sure that that clang was from Michinari’s favorite weapon- his metal bat. Where were you and who took you that they felt it necessary to have everyone here? You were brought out of your train of thoughts when you realized that all of a sudden everything and everyone was silent. All you can hear was your own heartbeat.

“Ah fuck it-” thing 1 looked at your form with a crazed look in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

“Dude what are you-”

“Well it’s obvious we won’t make it out alive-”

“Wait what?”

“-might as well have fun before we die, ey?”

With that said he closed the gap between you two. You felt your mind blank as tears started forming in your eyes. The moment he ripped Atsumu’s shirt from your person, the tears fell along with the loudest scream you could muster, “OMI! ATS-” you were cut off as thing 1 smacked your cheek with the butt of his gun, “shut up ye lil bitch. Yer not leavin til I get my f-”

Thing 2 was suddenly down- a hole on the side of his head. None of you even heard the door open so that meant Shinsuke was here- well him or Rintarou since they’re the stealthiest in your family.

Thing 1 suddenly stood up straight and placed his hands up with his palms up and blocking your view from whoever was with you two in the room, “hey uhhh I was forced to do this, mates- it- it wasn’t anything personal, yea?” Sat on a wooden chair in just your undergarments and the remnants of one of your husbands’ shirt, you let a small smile appear on your face. They’re here. You and your little bean are safe now.

Rintarou stepped out of the shadows and from his voice you could tell he looked bored, “so... where is she?”

Thing 1 shook his head, having lost his voice the moment his eyes met the bored yet malicious ones of one Suna Rintarou- one of the deadliest assassins of the Inarizaki family, and prayed that the fox wouldn’t notice your bleeding form behind him.

The moment you let out a sob, he pushed thing 1 away and squatted in front of you. And he was not happy with what he saw was done to you-

He saw your bloody and bruised face. He saw your shaking hands and the tears you let flow from your eyes. But what angered him the most was the fact that someone he viewed as his little sister lost the brightness is her eyes.

Any chance the idiot had with reasoning with him was gone.

“Congratulations, idiot. You’ve secured a spot in our personal dungeon.” Rintarou smiled as he heard a sharp thump before the telltale sound of a body hitting the ground, “you didn’t hit him too hard, did you, Shinsuke-san?”

“Not hard enough.”

“Ok- let’s get these off of you before your hubbies come in here,” with that said both men started unlocking the cuffs trapping you onto the chair. After freeing you, you were immediately hit with the feeling of fatigue and let your body fall onto the person closest to you. Shinsuke caught your semi-limp body and immediately became worried but calmed down as he felt your breaths. He arranged your position so that you were laying across his lap, facing the roof of the cell. Rintarou settled himself beside Shinsuke after texting Kiyoomi your location- receiving an immediate reply that they’ll be there as soon as Atsumu is out of his blood haze. Shinsuke brushed his hand through your hair but immediately stopped when you whimpered, “hit- t-table- home.”

The two men exchanged worried glances when you stared up at them with your eyelids slowly closing. Rintarou tapped your cheek, “Y/n-chan, stay awake- how do you feel right now?”

“Aish of all the questions Rin-”

“B-baby...”

“Kiyoomi-san and Tsumu will be he-”

“M-my baby...” their eyes widened as you shakily placed your hand onto your tummy before falling limp in Shinsuke’s arms. He refrained from panicking when he saw your chest still rising and falling in patterns- you probably fainted from exhaustion.

“Holy shi-”

“Y/N!”

The moment the two saw your limp body they assumed the worst- but as Atsumu was about to yell out his rage and sorrow, Osamu appeared from the shadows and hit the back of his head, “she’s breathing, you moron.”

“I knew that, shitface.”

“Who ya callin’ shitface, ya pig?”

“Who ya callin’ a pi-”

“Aran,” Kiyoomi calmly spoke as he turned to face the hitman- ignoring his husband and brother-in-law, “lead the way out- make sure that there will be no delays. We must take Y/n to Motoya immediately- we don’t know the extent of her wounds- however they look... less than favorable as of the moment.”

At the reminder of your current condition, the twins shutted up, “Osamu,”

“Yeah, Omi-san?”

“Bring that thing with us.” was muttered with great disdain while his finger was pointed towards the unconscious thing 1.

And so they left the building covered in blood with neutral faces.

They may not show it but they were livid.

They didn’t miss your tear and blood stained face nor the the fact that your shirt was ripped right down the middle.

They knew what was going to happen to you had they been a second late.

“Hitoshi and Heisuke are already tracking the rats- we’ll have them in the basement by tonight,” informed Kiyoomi’s trustworthy gunsmith, Tsukasa Iizuna.

“They better- only question now is who gets first dibs on the assholes.”

As they settled into the car, Shinsuke told them the news of your latest surprise. He knew that they’d go even more ballistic were they to find out during the check-up from Motoya. But since they were in a closed and moving car with you on their laps, they couldn’t really do much except stiffen and let their rage grow stronger- and he looks forward to seeing what they’ll do to the bastards tonight. Shinsuke, above all things, is a man of honor- and what he hates above all things, are traitors.

“PLEASE! I’M SORRY! PLEA- AHHH” Thing 1 screamed as Kiyoomi dug his dagger deeper into the man’s shoulder- forming a hollow hole of sort.

“Just a little more... I want to see if your bones are clean or if they need to cleansed as well-”

“Omi-omi~ I want my turn !” whined Atsumu as he crossed his arms and pouted at his husband.

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, “you had your turn five minutes ago when you spilled acid onto his legs- it’s my turn now.” with that said, Kiyoomi ripped his dagger from the man’s flesh without a warning and grabbing a bowl from the prisoner’s ‘meal’, poured the bowl of scalding hot soup into the hollow flesh.

And as the man wailed, the two traitors squirmed in fear as they awaited their turns.

“We don’t usually go to this extent but what can we say...”

“No one messes with our wife.”

please reblog if you liked it hehe 🥺🥰

[uwuwriting]

Deku and Kaminari meeting their future kids

Request: i’m too shy to even mention my un, but I saw the requests open so can I request deku, kaminari and your choice ;)) meeting their future kids? I just I LOVE THE SERIES SO MUCH soo please? it’s not that i’m telling u to do it but i’m suggesting..- 🍯✨

Hi....It’s been a while huh. Haha yeah I don’t know when the next uplaod will be and I’m terribly sorry for that. I finally got some peace and quite so here we are. I hope you enjoy. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist 

rules 

warnings: Izuku fainting......fluff and crack on Kamis’ part

Midoriya Izuku 

-So this will be fun. 

-He was on his way to your dorm on a late Friday night. 

-His training session had been brutal and he was beyond exhausted, the only thing on his mind being your weekly sleepover. 

-So he was just semi crawling to your room when he felt a small tug on his sleeve. 

-And there in front of him was a little boy, green strands caging his h/c eyes. 

-The trembling was evident and the pure terror on the little boys’ eyes was enough for Izuku to know that teh child was lost. 

- “E-e-excuse m-me. C-c-could you t-t-take me t-to m-my parents a-agency?”

-The boy reminded him of himself in his age. 

-Okay apart from the green hair and freckles that had a weird resemblance to him, the boys’ behavior was similar to his around the time when Katsuki started bullying him. 

-Izuku crouched down and placed a reassuring hand on the boys’ head trying to comfort him. 

- “Sure thing kiddo, what’s their agencys’ name?”

-A look of mild recognision flashed through the boys’ features befor he shook his head and answered. 

- “It’s in downtown Tokyo, the ‘Deku, H/N’ agency.”

-At that he kinda um got nauseous because this right here would be like the third? fourth? instance of a child landing in their dorms AND turning out to be from the future. 

-Could this boy be form the future? And he did say that he wanted to go to his parents’ agency. Did his parents work for him or was this child his? And he did say H/N that was your name. Was he yalls son? He ended up marrying you and having a child with you?

-Everything was spinning in 100 miles per hour.

-He completely forgot about the terrified child in front of him which was watching him get all bleary eyed. 

-For some weird reason he let out that he’s Deku and the boy lit up. 

- “That’s why you look like daddy!”

-Thank god the boy was shy because he didn’t say that too loudly but it was enough for Izuku to lose his marbles and faint on the spot. 

-Last thing he rememebrs was you rounding the corner and running towards them. 

 -Next thing he sees is your dorms’ star filed cieling. 

-He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around finding you along with the little boy sleeping on his side. 

-The boy was clinging to your chest, nuzzling into your neck as you had a hand drapped over him protectively.

-You were gripping Izukus’ hand with your free one.

-This was a happy scene. 

-He liked it. 

-He decided that the three of you could sort this mess up in the morning. 

-For now he would curl up around the both of you and go to sleep. 

-He couldn’t wait to do that everyday. 

Kaminari Denki 

-He’s dumb. 

-Like really really dumb. 

-When a child fell into his arms in the forest during a training session with Shinsou he acted like this was normal. 

- “I didn’t know this was part of your quirk Shinsou-kun.” 

-For a moment Shinsou was worried that he had ran into a villain and because he has the brain cells of a peanut he thought that they were part of his quirk, he went out of hiding and found him. 

-Now Shinsou has been in the situation before. 

-A child in his arms that looks like him? 

-Yeah he has been through it. 

-It happened a couple of months ago and he hasn’t spoken about it with anyone apart with his s/o. 

-Now he knows that Kaminari is an idiot he just hoped that he wouldn’t be that much of an idiot. 

-So when he saw the blonde girl in Kami’s arms he just did a 180 and straight up left. 

-Okay now they were both just staring at each other like that one spiderman meme because let me tell you that the resemblance between these two was uncanny. 

-Like where were you? 

-Where was your contribution in this child. 

-I think apart from carrying her for 9 months and giving birth, that’s the only credit you’ll get. 

-So after an awkward exchange of smiles, Kaminari introduced himself making the girl freeze look at him in pure horror and let out a high pitch scream, high enough to pierce his eardrums. 

- “WhAT wAs ThAt FoR?”

- “WhY Do yOU hAVe mY dAdS’ nAme?”

-That is one way to give Kaminari a heart attack. 

-I’ll give him credit where its due he did NOT faint like Izuku did but he did let out a very VERY confused ?Eh?.

-Now its a staring contest between the two confused Pikachus.

-How they got to AIzawas’ room is a big question mark. 

-If he’s being honest AIzawa is tired of little kids appearing in his class. 

-Like he has one to take care at home he doesn’t need more. 

-He sent Kaminari to Recovery girl and told him to describe to her what happened and hopefully she would know what to do. 

-The thing is that he ran into you on his way to recovery girl. 

-Like literally ran into you. 

-Now its the three of you having a staring contest. 

-Do yall know that one vine where the kid goes up to a lady and is liek ‘dAddY?’ *....Do I lOoK LiKe DaDDy?!?!?!*

-Yeah that’s what happened here but instead of daddy it was mommy because well at least she got your smarts. 

-You are the Izuku in this story lmao. 

-They had to take you to RG and revive you. 

-Shinsou and his S/O are in the corner crying of laughter. 

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @dnarez-mangetsu​ @bemorefiction​ @reinyrei​

[inarizakibabe]

Changes

As the first prince of his country Suna had just about everything his heart could want. Riches, fine silks and linens, and more food than he could eat. One would expect with a life as luxurious as his he would be happy. Unfortunately his father could see the sadness deep in his son's eyes. Maybe he needed  new hobby or more servants to boss around? Then again looking at things carefully the king noticed his son avoided the servants as much as he could. Just what could cheer up his son and bring back the joy in his eyes? Oh! Maybe that could work.

"You called for me father?"

"Yes Rintaro. I've noticed your sour mood these past few months and I think I know what could make it better." the king smiled down at his son. "I remember entering a funk as you young kids say and your grandfather threw a ball in my honor and I ended up meeting your mother."

Suna fought hard to hide the disgust creeping onto his face. Surely his father didn't really think he wanted to meet someone.

"So that's why three days from now we will have a ball and invite all eligible maidens to attend. Maybe I'll be able to see you smile again,"

"Um father with all due respect I don't really see how a ball will improve my funk as you called it. Maybe if I took a ride around the forest I'll feel better?" Suna hoped his father would get the message but knowing how stubborn he was he'll most likely be engaged three days from now. "I'll even bring my attendants to make sure I'm alright."

"Nonsense going for a ride isn't what you need. Trust me on this Rintaro. A ball is exactly what you need. You're dismissed. You have a ball to prepare for." The king said before turning back to the papers on his desk.

Suna sighed and left his father's office. Maybe if he ran away nobody would miss him. Or the entire kingdom would be put on lock down until he was found. He couldn't put his people through that so there was only one thing to do.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day Suna found himself taking a walk in the garden. If all goes to plan he wouldn't have to propose and maybe he could get the freedom he was craving. Sure castle life was fun but when you have people constantly telling you how to live and doing every thing fro you it can get tiring. Before he turned eighteen he didn't have as many responsibilities as he does now. Life was simple he would take lessons during the day and after a certain time he was free to do what he wanted until dinner time.

Now he's stuck behind a desk everyday taking on the tasks of the kingdom he father didn't want to do. If he got to leave the castle anymore it was for business and once all was settled he'd come right back home and behind the four walls of his personal office again. His home had become a prison and his office his cell.

"You know if you continue to frown at the ground it's less likely to open up and take you away from here."

Suna looked up and found one of his attendants speaking with him. He had two personal attendants who miraculously happened to be twins. They met each other at the age of six and have been together ever since. The one speaking to him now was the blonde one Atsumu which meant his brother Osamu, with gray hair, was most likely harrassing the kitchen staff.

"That sounds like a dream come true right now. Don't you feel suffocated here? You've lived here your whole and trained to work for me. Was it something you always wanted or was this chosen for you?" Suna asked.

"Sounds like someone is scared of their responsibilities. Alright Rintaro tell me what's wrong." Atsumu offered Suna an encouraging smile until he noticed the deadpan look on Suna's face. "You don't have to look at me like that you know."

"No offense but, actually take as much offense as you can from this but last I checked advice giving wasn't something you were capable of. Where's Osamu?"

"Looking up one of the maid's skirts. Now what do you mean I'm not a good advice giver? I happen to give great advice to people in need." Atsumu huffed.

"Right right remind me again why ten percent of the palace guards quit after you left 'inspiring' words with them." Suna mused.

"Be glad you're a prince." Atsumu muttered dejectedly.

"Threatening the crowned prince? That's grounds for dungeon time. Let me know if you want gray or white sheets." Suna laughed as he continued in the direction he was headed before.

"I'll take green. Look the fact of the matter is you're clearly not happy about something and as one of your attendants it's my job to fix that. I can get your horse saddled if you want and tell your father you had an entire platter filled with cheese." Usually Suna would grimace at the mention of cheese but a ride through the kingdom sounded more like what he needed.

"Thanks but no thanks, after the last time my father would kill me if he found out I ran off again. If you did want to cheer me up you could figure out a way to get him to cancel this ball he's throwing in my honor."

"You know as well as I do just how stubborn your old man is. You'd have better luck raising the dead than changing his mind. Look on the bright side. There'll be cake." Atsumu smiled at Suna who in turn frowned at him.

"For saying that you get purple sheets."

"Wait! Let's talk this out!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following day Suna found himself in his room being fitted for a new suit. In the twenty minutes he's been standing there he's been pricked by pins three times.

"Last warning tailor. The next time you hurt the prince you'll be charged for treason." Today Osamu was keeping Suna company

''Forgive me your highness. You're more built than I'm use to dealing with. Rest assured this suit will be the most beautiful suit you'll ever wear." the tailor put another pin in the fabric he was working with and prayed he hadn't pricked Suna again. "If I may ask, what occasion is this ball in honor of? The last celebration we had was your eighteenth birthday and I believe your birthday isn't until next year so what's the joyous occasion?"

"You'll find out the day after the ball until then please focus on leaving skin on my body." Suna sighed.

"Of course your highness my apologies again."

"Tsumu talked to me yesterday. What's going on with you?"

"He talks too much. He simply saw me walking in the garden nothing else."

"Oh yeah? I heard that princess you met in Shektor is coming tomorrow. Should I make arrangements that she's your first dance of the evening?" Osamu smirked at Suna who scowled at him. "Oh dear your highness what an expression. Be careful Princess Tsumaki doesn't see it she might think one of the wind goblins is tickling your nose again. In fact I'll write a letter to her right now to bring her special medicine to cure you!"

"Osamu you bastard! Ow! Alright fine enough I'll answer both your questions just stop tormenting me! I should have both of you locked up for treason." Suna growled trying to keep the parts if his sanity he still had.

The tailor and Osamu smirked at each other as Suna began to speak again. "I just felt trapped behind these walls recently. Is everything I'm doing really important? I sit down and sigh papers all day either about farm rations or mining and I just don't see the need to do any of that. The people know what they need to survive and they know how to do what they need to survive so why should I waste time looking over it for them? They're not children who need to be supervised they'd be well off without me. The again if I don't do that then what is my purpose here? What am I suppose to do with my life? Am I just the face the people use when they need something? No wait that's my father's job so I'm just here. I make agreements and trade deals with other countries and attend diplomat meetings my father can't make it to. If I didn't do any of that then I'd be a regular boy in the kingdom maybe doing stable work. Sounds better than being the one everyone blames for everything if things go wrong. My father apparently doesn;t know me very well and thought I was lonely so he's throwing a ball for me to find a wife. What's not to love about that?"

Osamu sighed and pulled one of Suna's cheeks. "First don't talk about yourself like that. Like it or not this is how you were born and there's literally nothing you can do about that. It doesn't matter what kind of job you do even if all you did was tell someone to move a chair you still did something and it benefited somebody in the long run. You can't see yourself for the things you do but me and everyone else around you can. You just need to look at things from a different point of view."

Suna looked away from both of them and sighed while taking in Osamu's words. Maybe all he did need was to view things from a different perspective. Yeah maybe that could work. "Ow!"

"You didn't have to stick him again Mori." Osamu sweatdropped.

"Nope that time definitely was an accident. Please try not to move your highness." Mori smiled innocently.

Or maybe his tailor would take him out first. Whichever came first he guessed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The day of the ball finally arrived and carriage after carriage arrived at the castle holding nobles and royals from near and far. Suna was in his room again watching from the window as carriages entered the palace grounds. Maybe if he's lucky he could make a run for it during the party and jump the fence to get away from everybody to maybe save himself for a little while. Or maybe one of guards sees him and tries to follow him and ruins his plans.

"Just sit through the ball and I'm sure your father will let you leave for an hour tomorrow."

"Yeah right after his engagement announcement. Listen Rin if you don't want to do it then I don't see why you should."

"Don't listen to Tsumu. We'll help you if you need a breather every now and again but we can't cover fro you the entire night."

"Or eat these two slices of cheesecake right now and be excused for the rest of the night." Atsumu suggested wiggling his eyebrows.

It was a pretty solid plan but a night of pain wasn't worth missing the ball. His father might only postpone it and he'd be confined to his room until everything passes.

"Well gentlemen it's my last night a single man. If I'm lucky Tsumaki won't be my future bride. The small bout of freedom I had was nice but it's time for me to be a big boy and do what I have to. Once I'm king the first thing I'm doing is making sure Asami doesn't go through this." Suna sighed.

"I doubt she'd have a problem with it. Which girl doesn't want to be entertained by a handsome man? Bonus points cause he's rich." Atsumu shrugged.

Suna's eyebrow raised in confusion, "Are you calling the princess a money whore?"

Atsumu chuckled softly and smiled at Suna. "You and I both know that's not what I meant. You're really the only person who has a problem with palace life. Asami is actually looking forward to her happily ever after which is something you need to start doing. You can hate it but if it's something that has to be done then you have to suck it up and get it over with."

"You can say that because it's not your life. I need to teach Asami about how dirty boys are. Osamu you'll be the example for what you and Mori did yesterday. Who could've imagined my attendant and the tailor conspiring against me. The mutiny." Suna shook his head in mock disappointment.

"Be disappointed all you want. I did what I had to do. Now you have to get ready for tonight. If you need us you know where we'll be." Osamu left with Atsumu right behind him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*

Night fell quickly and two hours into the party Suna finally met all the young women his father had invited. Many were kind and some more beautiful than necessary but all quickly looked away when Princess Tsumaki approached him. The night continued on as his father hoped with Suna being forced to mingle with everyone present. Eventually his social meter began to run out and he retreated to a hidden balcony for air.

A sound close by caught his attention and Suna found a young woman who seemed to be in the same situation as him. If he remembered he remembered her name was (y/n) third princess of a neighboring country. Suna tried to sneak away before you could see him but alas luck wasn't on his side.

"Your highness good night."

Suna counted to three then slowly faced you with a friendly smile, "Good night my lady. I hope you're enjoying the party."

"It's lovely and so is your country. Please give your father my thanks for inviting my family."

"I can assure you he'll give his thanks for attending. If I'm not being too forward may I ask why you're out here instead of enjoying the food?" Hopefully pressuring you like this will give Suna the quiet time he was hoping for.

"Forgive my rudeness but the amount of people inside made the room a little stuffy. I came out here for a little air." you smiled at him.

"Fair enough. I hope the air is to your liking."

"With all due respect your highness it's been a long night and it's exhausting speaking like this so if you don't mind we can call each other old acquaintances and speak like old friends would. It would be an honor if you would call me (y/n)."

Suna blinked at your request and fought the grin trying to rise on his face. "If that's so then feel free to call me Rintaro. Blame my father for taking things the wrong way and forcing us all to go through this."

"We can't really fight what our parents want us to do. Comes with the title really. You seemed upset earlier should I assume that you don't really want to get married?"

Suna sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't mind getting married I just don't think I should get married because my father thought I was in a funk as he called it. Sounds cliche but I actually believe in meeting someone and falling in love."

You blinked at the prince and giggled. "You're very cute Rintaro. I like to believe everyone wants to fall in love that way. Nobody wants to have their partner chosen for them. What good is being married if you're gonna be miserable everyday."

"If it means I don't have to sit through marriage consultations and weird balls like this one then I may just prefer the other way."

"Careful what you say. I think we both know your father is capable of that. I saw princess Tsumaki looking for her Rinnepoo earlier. Maybe I should let his majesty know you've chosen someone." You looked up to find Suna pouting at you. "Careful your highness they may send you back to etiquette classes for making such a face."

"Good evening Prince Rintaro. It's a pleasure to make your aquaintance tonight. I do hope that-"

"Ok! That's enough! Don't you dare repeat that."

Suna smirked and hid his mouth behind his hand. "Pardon me princess. I just found your greeting to me this evening amusing. I mean no harm it's just you were so cute. How many times did you practiced that?"

"Whatever. Let's see what you would do if the roles were reversed."

"Sorry princess but this isn't about me." Suna giggled.

"So you can smile and laugh. I almost thought you were emotionally constipated. Is that the funk your father thought you were in?"

Suna sighed being reminded of the situation he was in. "It's more than that but nobody would understand."

You smiled at him encouragingly. "The whole you're royalty so you have absolutely no reason to not be happy thing?"

"Exactly that. It's gonna sound stupid but I guess I miss the freedom I had before I turned eighteen. Well more I don't see the need for me to do the things I'm doing."

"Ah you feel monarchy should be abolished. Look at it this way crackers taste good on their own but with cheese the taste is elevated. Cheese and crackers is superior to just plain old crackers by themselves or just cheese by itself. Yes your kingdom could probably prosper on it's own but there are situations the people shouldn't handle on their own. Budget distribution, land distribution, diplomatic matters and many other things. We exist to keep harmony in the kingdom. Imagine leaving children to raise themselves. Many would unfortunately die before reaching a certain age. Think of your kingdom as your very own children. They're self sufficient yes but without you to guide them in the things they don't understand they'll be hurt. You can still do the things you love but your children come first. If you don't take care of them then someone may just take them away. "

Suna sighed. "I can understand that but I just don't understand why it has to be me."

"I don't understand why it can't be you. Anyone could've been chosen for the job but you were chosen. I don't know you well enough to speak on certain things but I have heard rumors that you basically run half of your kingdom on your own. The fact that nothing has fallen apart shows that you're more than competent to do your job. You need to have more confidence in yourself. I've only known you for a short time but I can already tell you're a wonderful person. Don't sell yourself short." You smiled at Suna who looked at you unsure.

Suna shrugged, "If you say so (y/n). Are you hungry?"

"I'm alright for now. But I do think we need to get back before someone misses us."

"What's the rush? You know the reason for this party."

"Is that you asking for my company your highness?"

"I didn't hear a no princess." Suna smirked when you giggled.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few months later Suna found himself sitting in his office again. He was hard at work but this time with a slight smile on his face. A knock on the door took him away from the work he was doing and Atsumu stepped into his office.

Atsumu placed a sandwich and a cup of tea on the table in front of Suna "You seem to be in a better mood these days. What's your secret?"

"Sorry but secrets are secret for a reason."

"Keep your secrets then. Simply means I can't tell you the one I just heard." Atsumu smirked.

"I heard the dungeons don't have heat." Suna shrugged.

"Really? Just make sure my sheets are red."

Suna laughed and shook his head, "You little turd nugget. What's going on?"

"Alright fine but only because you asked so rudely. I heard your favorite princess is coming by later today. Maybe if you finish all your work you can be at the doors to greet her."

"Lucky for me this was the last page I had to look over. Prepare two horses and I'll make sure your sheets are maroon."

"And you call me the turd nugget." Atsumu rolled his eyes. "His majesty said you can do whatever you want for the rest of the day once you stop keeping him in suspense."

"Sounds good. Thanks for lunch."

Things were definitely starting to look up and with one simple question later tonight Suna's life was about to change again. This time for the better.

[softomi]

The Specials of the Day

prompt: I’d never want to have you to eat alone, so even if my stomach explodes, I’ll eat with you

pairing: osamu x reader

As he hurled into the toilet, hunched over the bowl, gripping the edges for dear life; Osamu knew exactly how he could have prevented the situation. In fact, this wasn’t the first time he became friends with the toilet after a particularly gruesome lunch.

But how could he resist the way you look at him. The way your eyelashes batted softly, eyes adorned with love, lips perking as you spoke. You were even inviting him to do his favorite thing: eat.

“There’s a great restaurant down the street.”

“A new café just opened up on the other side of campus.”

“I really wanted to try the new menu, are you sure you can’t come?”

And each time you suggested something, he would foolishly agree despite fulfilling his stomach to his extent earlier. It wasn’t foolish, he tried to reason, if he was hopelessly in love with you. Osamu built a bond with you over food, or perhaps it was food that brought you two together. He had met you through working together at a restaurant, Osamu would always catch you eating some food. Your cheeks puffed, a soft grin, your hand attempting to hide your caught state. Osamu, a cook, and you, a waitress, the day a manager caught you with food in your mouth, Osamu rescued you.

“She’s taste testing.” He had said the moment the manager asked you why you were eating. He didn’t know why he was so eager to save you, perhaps it was a coworkers united thing at the moment, but the way he remembers it now; it was definitely the cute fearful look on your face when you glanced at him.

“Hey.” You stopped him on his way out of the restaurant, “Thanks.” You grin, “Seriously, I was so hungry I thought I wouldn’t be able to last the whole shift.”

Osamu nods, “No problem, wouldn’t want the best waitress to get fired over eating.”

“Best waitress?”

He blushes, “Just saying, you don’t get frustrated with us cooks, we all think your nice.”

“Ah.” An innocent smile on your lips, “I should treat you though.”

“It’s okay, no worries.” He tried to continue walking but you ended up following him in the same direction. Awkward with new people, Osamu cursed that employees had to park in the same location.

You turn to look at him periodically, he can practically feel the burn in your eyes, “There’s a really good restaurant near here, I was there with one of my friends the other day and their menu is just spectacular. Everything, cooked to perfection.”

He was hooked. What you had said about the restaurant was vague, but he was hooked on you. Osamu soon realized that your love for food extended to everything, he couldn’t figure out if you had literally the worst tastebuds in the world or was just over optimistic about everything. Every dish was perfect for you, even when he spit out the saltiest fish he’s ever had in his life, you happily noted that it was still good. He forced you to stop eating, fearful of your sodium intake.

When he finally determines he’s done throwing up, Osamu can only sit on the ground, his stomach still feeling bloated.

“Sir?” The door to the bathroom opens, “If you want to head home, I can close the restaurant at the end of the day.”

He couldn’t go home though; a new shipment of rice was coming in and Kita liked to deliver the rice personally. But that didn’t mean he had to look good for his friend, it meant that he could complain about how he wanted to never eat again despite dinner being on his mind.

“You ate twice?” Kita looks at Osamu, the male sitting on the ground, his stomach still queasy.

Osamu groans, “Well, Tsumu wanted to eat at a buffet so we did but then right after we finished eating, y/n called me saying that she really wanted to eat at the same buffet, so of course I agreed and ate again.”

“Why didn’t you just not eat a lot your second time.”

Osamu looks at the older male, “I feel bad making her eat a lot alone, and she can eat. But this isn’t even the first time, last week I had three full course meals in the span of four hours. I literally thought I was giving birth.”

“Okay, just don’t eat with her then.”

“But then, what if she never wants to eat with me again.”

Kita isn’t amused, “I think you’re over thinking.”

Osamu rests a hand onto his stomach, “I feel so nauseous.” His cell rings in his pocket, the way your name pops up onto his screen has him forgetting the nauseousness in his stomach, “Hey!” He’s a little too eager in his answer.

“Hey, I know we just ate lunch together but if you wanted, we could go out to eat for dinner. I know a great place.”

Love struck, he laughs, “Of course, I’d love to have dinner with you. Where should we meet?”

“I’ll stop by.” You say, “then we can head out together.”

Osamu notices the expression on his older friend but the lecture he’s about to receive from Kita is nothing compared to the cute way your cheeks puff with such excitement over food.

He couldn’t wait for the day to be over, as the time neared for the closing of his restaurant, he tried to ready himself for when you walked through the door. As the last of his workers left, he can already spot you skipping in from outside of the windows, casually greeting some of his workers on their way out. He even noticed the way some of his workers snickered with their looks towards him; it was no secret at Onigiri Miya that the owner had the biggest crush on you.

“Hey!” You jump in, pulling yourself into one of the stool seats.

Osamu leans over the counter, just close enough so he can get the nice scent of you. You were always sweet scented; it came as no shock since you worked at a bakery. Every time he saw you, he could tell what you were baking that day, some days cookies, other days, cakes. He wonders if you still liked to sneak food into your mouth during work.

He’d be lying if he said he was listening to what you were saying. Your pretty lips were moving but all he could see was how beautiful you were.

“Samu?”

He straightens up, hoping that the flush of his face isn’t as visible under his hat, “Sorry, long day at work.” He lies.

“Well, I got you something.” You’re rummaging into your bag, pulling out a bottle and placing it in front of him.

“Digestion medicine?” Osamu eyes the bottle.

You were sitting there, arms crossed, a light grin on your face, “I was telling Atsumu about the buffet we went to today and he told me that you two ate there earlier.” Your expression softens, “Knowing how much you ate with me, I can only assume you spent the day in agony, next time, just tell me that you already ate. I can always eat alone.”

He’s silent, but the way you look at him with such concern, he can’t argue. You grabbed your bag, standing from your seat, “Wait.” He stops you any further from moving, “What about dinner?”

You beam excited at him, “I’m going to my favorite restaurant. The owner there is really cute.”

Osamu deflates, “Oh, well, see ya I guess.”

“Okay. See you.”

Osamu watches you make sure you have everything, a silly habit he knows you have; you were always afraid of forgetting something. He feels dejected as you begin to walk away, but the way you round the counter, footsteps pitter pattering towards the cash register makes him confused.

“What are you doing?” He questions.

You lean over the register, giggling as he stares at you, “I’m starving so I came to my favorite restaurant.” The grin on your lips makes his heart stop, “Best. Onigiri. In. The. World.” You tap a finger onto your lips, “but the service is okay, I’ve been here for ten minutes and no one’s taking my order.”

Osamu makes his way to you, palms getting sweaty as he gets nearer and nearer. The owner there is really cute. Your words echo in his head and he’s starting to overthink. Did you really mean what you said, or were you merely teasing him.

“What can I get you?” He speaks in his customer service voice and it makes you press your lips into a smile, “Would you like to hear the specials?”

“Specials?” You perk up.

“Yep, there’s two specials of the day.” Osamu leans forward, “One is called the ‘I Like You Onigiri’ and the other is called the ‘I Don’t Like You, Leave Me Alone Onigiri’.”

You purse your lips, “I think I’m allergic to I Don’t Like You, Leave Me Alone Onigiri.”

It was like you were playing chicken with him, the way you leaned just a bit closer to him. He’s taking in more of your scent and it’s driving him wild, “Would you be interested in one of our new signature drinks?”

“Hm?” You tilt with a question in your expression.

“Can I Kiss You.”

“Oh.” You breathe out a smile, “I’ll take it in a large.”

Osamu places a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into his lips, drinking you in as much as he can. Your hand tips his hat back, fingers running through his hair as the hat falls with a thud. When he lets you go, you pull away, wiping your lips. Flushed cheeks, a laugh coming from you, Osamu pushes his hair back to refix the hat onto his head.

“I’ve never actually made onigiri before.” You were staring at the ingredients on the counter.

“Well, it’s your lucky day then, I’ll give you a free lesson into the Onigiri Miya way.” Osamu fits the apron on you; you don’t notice the way it has his name written across the front. You preferred to look up at the man as he wraps the ties around your waist, pulling you into his chest as he finishes tying the strings around your back.

You think for a second that he’d stand next to you, showing you the way he formed the rice. Instead, he positions you in the center of the ingredients. Pushing his chest to your back, resting a chin on your shoulder, his hands running over yours, using your fingers as his to mold the rice into its intended form.

“Perfect.” He whispers.

Distractedly in awe of the onigiri you just made, you’re wiggling out of his grasp to take pictures of your own set of onigiri. He’s cleaning up, washing the dishes as you munch your food. You offer him a bite which he fully accepts. You miss the way as you turn your back to him, he spits out the overly salty onigiri into the sink.

“Mm.” He masks a grin onto his face, “So good.”

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Dead Man’s Cell Phone--Chapter 4

Summary: When Emma Swan starts getting phone calls and texts from an unfamiliar number, she decides to check it out–only to discover the number belongs to a Killian Jones, who was killed in a robbery gone wrong six months ago.  With some help from a medium, Merlin Emrys, Emma hopes to find out why a dead guy is contacting her–and why she feels such a strong pull to someone she has never met before.

Rating: K+​

Welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! A big thank you to @cssns​​​, the ladies on the Discord!  Thank you also to @eastwesthomeisbest​​​, my artist and my beta @veryverynotgood​​!

Other Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 Epilogue 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian felt as though he were swimming up from the bottom of the ocean.  Everything was dark and still, the sounds around him muffled, as though he were hearing them through the water. And then suddenly the water cleared and he pushed through the surface.

 The first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was her face, her beautiful radiant face looking down on him with hope and perhaps a bit of trepidation.

 "Swan, at last!" he whispered past a throat as dry as sandpaper.

 How he knew her name he had no idea, but know it he did, just as he had the strangest feeling he knew her--had communicated with her, had a connection with her.

 Given the standoffish way she'd treated their one previous encounter, he expected her to pull away, to become defensive at his familiar use of her name, but she surprised him.  Instead of shying away, she smiled at him, let her hand linger on his cheek a moment longer and simply said, "Welcome back."

 A nurse came in at that moment, and Killian looked around in surprise.  For the first time, he realized he was in a hospital.

 "What--" he croaked before taking a sip of water the nurse brought him. "What happened?"

 "We were rather hoping you could tell us that," replied a handsome black man who stood at a discreet distance.

 "Killian, I'd like you to meet Merlin Emrys,"  Emma said. "It's thanks to him we were able to find you."

 Killian held out his hand, and shook Merlin's.  "You have my thanks."

 "You're most welcome," Merlin said with a smile, "but I assure you I was only a small part of the puzzle.  You owe your waking to Miss Swan here--to her and to the connection you share."

 It was odd, Killian thought, that neither he nor Emma had introduced themselves to each other; it was even more odd that it felt as though such an introduction would be redundant.  What had happened to them to make them feel as though they'd known each other for decades?

 Soulmates, a small voice inside of him insisted.

 "You have my deepest gratitude," Killian said, looking around at the two people with him, "both of you."

 Emma took his hand, squeezing it gently.  "Do you remember anything about...whatever it was that brought you here?"

 Killian thought intently for a moment, closing his eyes to help himself concentrate.   "I remember…" He looked up at Emma. "I remember you, love.  I remember running into you, quite literally, and then I came across a scuffle in an alley.  I tried to intervene and was struck from behind, and then...nothing."

 "Killian," Emma said gently, "that was half a year ago.  You were declared dead, and your family interred you in the family mausoleum.  Do you know how that could have happened?"

 Killian shook his head.  "I have no idea, love.  It is a mystery--"

 Suddenly the flower vase on the bedside table crashed to the floor, making Killian jump.

"What the hell?!" Emma exclaimed.

It was me!

Killian jumped in the bed.  He’d heard the voice as clearly as he’d heard Emma’s exclamation, but the voice wasn’t in the room; it was in his head.

“Did you….did you hear that?” he asked, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said.  She looked as disconcerted as he felt.  “Merlin?  What’s happening?”

Killian turned to look at the other man in the room, but he wasn’t paying them any mind.  His attention was focused near the nightstand and the shattered vase.  For a moment, he merely stared intently, and then he nodded, as though acknowledging someone--or something--neither Killian nor Emma could see.

“Emma,” Merlin said, finally turning back toward the bed, “do you remember when you first came to me, I sensed another spirit with us?  An angry and quite desperate one?”

Emma furrowed her brows.  “Um...yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“He’s with us now,” Merlin said.  “He’s the voice you heard, and he’s responsible for the broken vase.”

“Okay…”

“Killian,” Merlin said, “his name is Arthur.  Arthur Pendragon.  He says he made a terrible decision.  He borrowed a good deal of money from the mobster known as Hades.  The business venture he’d gambled the money on fell through, and to put it mildly, Hades was not pleased.”

“Clearly things went rather badly for him after that if he’s a ghost,” Killian said slowly, “but I’m afraid I don’t follow.  What does this Arthur Pendragon have to do with any of us?”

It was me!!

This time the shout in his head was so loud it was nearly deafening.  Killian scowled, glaring in the general direction of the nightstand where he assumed the spirit was standing--or whatever it is that spirits do when they’re haunting the living.

“Seems like someone’s impatient,” Emma said dryly.  “Merlin, how about you stop with the vagueness and just spit it out.  Who is -or I guess who was- Arthur, and why does he insist on yelling at us?”

“Arthur Pendragon is haunting you both because he was the man in the alley, the man you tried to save, Killian.”

Killian blew out a long breath.  “Clearly my attempts were fruitless.”

Merlin shook his head.  “No, you weren’t able to save his life, but he’s here for a reason.  Maybe you can help him now, help him move on, help him find peace.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help, I’m at his disposal,” Killian said, “but why the bloody hell does he keep repeating ‘it was me’?”

Merlin turned toward the nightstand and listened for another moment, and then he turned back to the bed, smiling.

“It would seem Arthur Pendragon is the solution to the mystery you face,” Merlin said. “It was Arthur’s body the authorities found in the alley.  Your phone, Killian, was found beside him.  Given the fact that he was beaten until he was unrecognizable, and given the fact that he bore a rather uncanny resemblance to you in life, it was believed he was you.  It was his body that was shipped back to England.”

Emma whistled.  “That’s quite the mistake.”

“Indeed,” Merlin agreed.

“So, how can we help him?” Killian asked.  “How can we move him toward the light?”

“Arthur wishes his body to be returned back home,” Merlin said, “and he wishes a message be conveyed to his widow, Guinevere.”

“I can manage that,” Killian said.  “What precisely is the message?”

“Arthur wishes to tell Gwen, as he calls her, that he’s sorry,” Merlin said.  “He knows his obsession wounded his wife deeply, and he wishes more than anything that he’d been a better husband to her.  He wants to thank her for her constant love and faithfulness, even when he was not worthy of it, but now she should follow her heart with his blessing.  Lance du Lac is a good man, and Arthur hopes they are happy together.”

“I promise you, Arthur,” Emma said, taking Killian’s hand, “I’ll find your wife, and I’ll pass on your message.”

Killian felt a whoosh of coldness pass him, and then it was gone.  Suddenly the room felt warmer, lighter.  

Emptier.

“He’s moved on,” Merlin said.  “Thanks to the both of you, a man who was very troubled--both in life and in death--was able to find peace.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

3 days later

Emma knocked softly on the doorframe, and then stepped inside Killian’s hospital room.  He looked up from his seat in the plush chair in the corner, and his entire face lit up at the sight of her.

It made the butterflies dance in her stomach.  He was gorgeous when he smiled like that, and she had to admit, the dark-wash jeans, blue button-up and black leather jacket didn’t hurt either.  Lying in the bed in a hospital gown he was easy on the eyes, but up and dressed--woah!

His delighted grin turned knowing, and Emma felt her face flame.  She was quite sure she hadn’t been this ridiculously attracted to someone since...well, she wasn’t sure it’d ever been like this.

“Looks like someone’s eager to get out of the hospital,” Emma said.

“Aye,” Killian agreed with a nod.  “I believe I’ve spent more than enough time in this small room.  I’m eager to make the most of my last day in the States.”

After waking from the coma and learning the truth of what happened to him, Killian had made an immediate call to his brother, Liam, paying no mind to the time difference that made it the middle of the night in England.

“Brother?” Killian said as soon as the call connected.  “Are you sitting down?”

Emma had gotten up to leave then, not wanting to intrude on a private family moment, but Killian stopped her, squeezing her hand and begging her with his expressive eyes to stay.

Liam had offered to jump on the next plane to the States, but Killian had refused.  “It’s been six months, Liam,” he’d said.  “If my calculations are correct, my small niece or nephew is to be born any day.  Elsa needs you now more than I do.”

Killian listened for a moment before grinning at Emma and rolling his eyes.  “Stop fussing, Liam,” he murmured affectionately.  “I’m not a lad anymore.  I can manage alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” Emma said with conviction.  “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

And she had.  She’d spent every free moment here with him at the hospital over the ensuing three days until the doctor had agreed to release him.  Emma had long since stopped wondering about the connection she felt to Killian, had stopped fighting against the pull she felt toward him.  Whatever odd twist of fate had brought the two of them together, together they were, and  Emma found she had no desire to fight against the warmth and happiness being with him brought.

But now, well now, it was all about to come to an end.  Killian’s flight was first thing in the morning, and afterward, there would be an entire ocean between them.

Emma’s heart plummeted.  There were far too many obstacles for a “relationship”--or whatever you’d call what they had--that had lasted all of a week. She didn’t even know if he felt the same way about her that she did about him.  In less than twenty-four hours, she’d have to say goodbye to the man who had somehow managed to burrow his way into her heart, and for all she knew that goodbye would be permanent.

“The doctor should be here any minute for a last check, and then you’re out of here,” Emma said, forcing the dismal thoughts from her mind.  Killian being released from the hospital was a good thing.  She wasn’t going to ruin the moment by being glum.

“I must admit, I’ll be pleased to be rid of this place,” Killian said with a wry grin.  “How the devil is one expected to convalesce and get his rest when the nurses come to poke and prod every five minutes?”

Emma laughed.  “Quit complaining,” she said. “You know you had all the nurses eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“They seem to have adopted me as their pet over the past few months, haven’t they? Even if the brigands who attacked me rather knocked the handsome out of me.”

Emma grinned.  “No one’s that powerful.”

He enjoyed her flirting, if his pleased grin was any indication.  After a moment, he sobered.  “I want to thank you, Swan, for saving me, pulling me from the coma.”

She smiled gently.  “Did you really think I’d let you waste away in here if I could help it?”

“I’d hardly blame you if you did,” he answered.  “After all, we were strangers.  Not one person in a hundred who received a phone call from a dead man would put in half the effort you did to track it down.”

Emma shrugged.  “It was weird.  I had the strangest feeling of connection to you, even though as far as I knew at the time, I’d never even seen you before.  No way I could have just let you languish here.”

The doctor came in at that moment, and their conversation was put on hold as he did his final examination before declaring Killian fit to go about his normal life.

“So, I went ahead and booked you a room at Granny’s Bed and Breakfast,” Emma said when they were once again at home.  “Granny put you in the same room you’d been in during your vacation, before, you know, everything happened.”

“I greatly appreciate it, love.”

“I guess, um,” she said, “we should go.  I’ll drop you off and let you enjoy your last day in Storybrooke however you’d like.”

Emma turned to leave the room, but Killian stopped her with a hand to her arm.  “Do you know how I’d most like to spend my last day in the States?”

She shook her head.

“I’d like to spend it with you,” he said with a gentle smile.  “Would you allow me to buy you lunch?”

Her heart pounded.  “Are you...are you asking me out?”

He nodded, taking her hand and lacing their fingers.  “If you’re amenable, aye, I’m absolutely asking you out.  What do you say?”

Emma stepped into his space, cupped the back of his head with her free hand, and brought his lips down to hers.  If he was surprised at the kiss, he didn’t show it, responding as soon as her lips touched his.

And gods did he know how to kiss.  Emma was more than tempted to scrap their lunch date and simply stay here making out all day.  Food was overrated compared to this.

“Alright, Mr. Jones, you’re good to--oh, I’m sorry!  Let me just leave this with you--” 

Emma pulled away, grinning as the embarrassed nurse laid a handful of forms on the bedside table and then scurried out the door.

“That was a yes, by the way,” Emma said when they were again alone.  “How about we go get that lunch you promised me before we scandalize any more nurses?”

 Notes:

--Well there you have it!  Mystery solved and happy endings all around.

--All that’s left is a fluffy epilogue in which a few surprise guests show up at an important event in Emma and Killian’s lives.

                                                                                 Next Chapter-->

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Shoutout to all of those beautiful, incredible supportive and awesome people who encouraged me to write this Emeriel (Azriel x Emerie) one shot. I really like this crackship, and I’m hoping we see more of Emerie in the next acotar books.

With this, I’m officially in ghost mode till acosf and for some time after its release (probably a month). My askbox and dm are open for prompts tho! So feel free to send me any writing requests!!

Falling in Shadows

Azriel was lost.

Not lost as in ‘I don’t know the Cauldron where I am’. Not in the physical way lost.

No, Azriel was lost in the emotional way. Lost as in ‘What the Cauldron I am feeling?’

If he was to be honest with himself, he had been feeling like that for quite some time now. Ever since Cassian had asked him to go to that wooden building and spied a certain female through the clothier’s window.

Azriel was usually uncomfortable around other Illyrians. He sometimes forgot he too was one, his hatred for his people in some occasions being so unbearable he found himself a youngling once again, locked in that dark cell, denied the skies.

How could he be an Illyrian, feel like one, when his own people had cast him aside? Had tried to strip him of his heritage?

That was one of the motives he avoided going to Windhaven. But after that day he visited Cassian and Nesta — he was surprised to see how their relationship was going, despite the circumstances that had made Nesta go to Illyria — Azriel found himself looking for reasons to be in Windhaven.

All because of her.

Because of Emerie, the fierce owner of that clothier.

Once he had gotten inside the shop, Azriel had willed his shadows to fade — few were the Illyrians and Fae not afraid of them, afraid of him and his job in the Night Court — and tucked his wings tight. He knew how the Illyrian females were treated. How they were supposed to look down and not talk back when in the presence of a male. He didn’t want any other reason to scary the shop owner.

To his surprise, however, he was met with a different scenario. An Illyrian female who didn’t look down, was not afraid to speak her mind and didn’t cower in his presence.

Emerie didn’t even bat an eyelash at him or his shadows, not even glancing at his scarred hands when he handed her the money — an act he was already used to.

Azriel was in and out of the shop in less then five minutes.

He met her again some time later, having tea with Nesta when came back to Windhaven. They exchanged a few words and he got even more curious about her.

And then, before he had even noticed how, they had become friends.

Azriel would pass by her shop whenever he went to visit Cassian and would chat with Emerie, sometimes joining her and Nesta for tea — Azriel dragged Cassian with him when that happened, a little scared to be beneath the sharpe of gaze of both females by himself.

Not that he told Cassian, or anyone else for that matter, the truth. He’d rather swim naked in one of Windhaven’s deathly cold lakes.

Azriel had female friends, so it was not like he was embarrassed around Emerie because of that. Feyre was his friend, as was Elain — although Feyre seemed to think there was something between him and her sister, they were only on friendly terms. Elain was still processing what had happened to her, being Made and losing everything she had, not to mention Graysen. The man was one of the finest pricks he’d ever met, but love was not rational.

Azriel and Elain understand each other in some level, her being a seer and him a shadowsinger. But nothing more.

And then there was Morrigan. He’d been in love with her. Once. And he knew she didn’t see him like that.

His feelings had faded over time, leaving only respect and brotherly affection towards her. Azriel knew he sometimes overreacted when it came to Eris, but it was not due to a lover’s anger. No, he felt guilty of what Mor had been through, years ago. He was her friend and couldn’t help her when she needed the most.

His love towards Mor may have changed, but it still hurt to see that she was keeping something from him and flirted so shameless in front of him as to keep him away. Whatever it was that she had to say, he’d understand. So he’d wait, until she was ready to talk to him.

When it came to Emerie, however, he felt something. Something different. Something he could not quite place.

Azriel also felt fear.

Fear of what that feeling may represent. Of what Emerie thought of him. He had to keep himself in check around her, least he loose control of his shadows, who always seemed to get agitated whenever they were together.

Sighing, he shook his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts. He could feel an headache coming, and he had to wake up early to met Cassian and the Camp Lords for a meeting regarding the Blood Rite. He needed sleep.

His feet, on the other hand, had other ideais. Before he knew what he was doing, they had taken him on the way to the small craftsman center of the camp, where Emerie’ shop was.

Maybe he could say he had thought of saying a quick hello, see how the things were going with her sells.

“It’s not that late yet. And I didn’t come today to see her. So a late night tea won’t hurt, right?” Azriel thought, trying to calm himself down.

He sent one of his shadows ahead to see if there was any light on the clothier, just in case. If it was off, he’d take it was a sign to leave it alone and go rest.

But when it returned, Azriel felt his blood run cold, and he quickly moved through the shadows to get there faster. And the scene in front of him made his heart stop.

The shop windows were broken, as was the door, and he could see some of the clothes thrown on the floor by the door.

Azriel heard screams.

Heard Emerie screaming.

He entered the shop to find her being restrained by a male, while two others ransacked the place.

Azriel did not fail to notice how the male holding her looked pissed. Maybe due to his bloody nose and black eye.

Azriel smiled internally. His girl would not go down without a fight it seemed.

“And just what do you think you’re doing” he said, announcing his presence.

Four pairs of eyes looked in his direction, and he got smug satisfaction at the clear fear that shined in the males’ eyes.

Specially when they saw Azriel unsheathing Truth Teller and gave free rein to his shadows.

However, in Emerie’s dark brown eyes he only saw relief.

“Close your eyes Em” he said.

And then Azriel exploded.

He had the two males pinned down by his shadows in no time, bounding their wings and squeezing their throats strong enough to leave them breathless.

And a little purple.

But the one that held Emerie... that one he would take his sweet time.

Appearing behind the male — which quickly released Emerie in hope to attempt an escape — Azriel slammed him down in the polished counter.

“What should I do with you” he snarled, bringing Truth Teller dangerously close to the male’s throat, making a thin cut in his skin.

“P-please,” the male whimpered “have mercy”

“Did you show mercy to her? Did you?!” Azriel shouted, pressing the knife harder “I should Clip you. I should Clip all of you and take my sweet time doing it”

He heard the other two males struggling against his shadows, trying to get away again. Azriel only whiled them to tighten their grip, and he swore he heard one start to cry.

“You will never appear here again. You will not bother Emerie any longer” he leaned down to whisper in the male’s ear “You will tell that to your other friends. To anyone who has ever messed with her. And if I hear that you came back — and trust me, I will — I will hunt you down myself”

“Are we clear?” he added, letting his threat sink.

“Y—yes sir” the trembling male managed to gasp through Azriel’s hold on his neck.

“Go” he said, freeing all three, who quickly left the place, running for their lives.

Azriel then turned to find Emerie with her eyes open, staring at him.

He froze. She had seen him. Had seen him act as the High Lord’s spy master. Had seen him being territorial and scary and—

“I think I’ll have to redecorate” was all Emerie said, her voice trembling a little.

Azriel couldn’t believe it. She had been attacked, her shop destroyed and she had time to make a joke.

He shook his head in disbelief and stopped in front of her, holding himself back to not touch her to see if she was hurt anywhere.

“Are you—”

Her knees gave out before he could say anything else, and he quickly caught her in his arms.

“You put your arms around me and I literally felt my kneels buckle, this is so pathetic” she scoffed, looking at the floor.

“Em...”

“I usually can handle it on my own” she shook her head “Nesta taught me some self defense moves. I can’t leave the shop to go for the training ring and I have no desire to be a warrior”

“This...this was the first time that more than one came” she added in a soft whisper.

Azriel felt a calm rage settle in his bones.

“This is not the first time something like this has happened,” he wanted to shake her until she got some sense in that stubborn head of hers “and you didn’t tell anyone about it”

“As I said, I usually can handle it” she snapped back, finally meeting his eyes “I was closing the shop when they appeared. I tried to fight back, but I only managed to punch one before he restrained me. If you hadn’t appeared I—”

She didn’t finish that sentence, bitting her trembling lip to keep herself from crying.

“You are one headstrong and fearless female, you know that?” he said, daring to hold her closer.

“I was scared”

And to Azriel’s surprise she buried her head on his chest, gripping his leathers for her dear life, her body shaking with silent sobs.

“I know Em” he murmured, one hand caressing her hair in comfort.

His shadows closed the door and gathered the clothes on the floor, putting them on the counter.

“I’m going to take you upstairs, okay?” he asked softly, and Emerie just nodded her head.

Gathering her in his arms, Azriel climbed the stairs to the upper part of the shop, where Emerie lived.

He decided to place her on the sofa. He didn’t want to invade her personal space and walk into her bedroom.

He carefully sat on the sofa, adjusting Emerie in his arms so she’d be comfortable. By the looks of it, she wasn’t letting go of him soon.

Not that he was bothered by that.

“Em...it’s okay. You’re safe now” he tenderly raised her head, both hands cupping her cheeks and brushing away her tears.

“Thank you. For arriving when you did” she sniffed, but then reality seemed to fall on her “Why where you around here at this hour?”

Azriel felt the tip of his ears getting hot, and he almost faded back in the shadows.

“I wanted to see you” he mumbled, so low he hoped she had not heard him.

“What was that?” she asked, and by the way she was trying to suppress a grin Azriel could tell she had heard him loud and clear.

“I’m not repeating it” he said, feeling his whole face getting hot

Emerie laughed, and the sound of her laugh was enough to put Azriel at ease.

“I wanted to see you too” she confessed, looking deep into his eyes.

Azriel could swear his heart skipped a beat at her words.

“You did?” he softly asked, afraid this was all a dream and he’d soon wake up.

“Yes” she said, and tenderly took one of his hands on hers, not flinching at the scars on them “I wanted to hear your voice”

She kissed his fingers.

“I wanted to see you trying to come up with topics to talk with me”

She kissed palm.

“I wanted to see your shadows acting all agitated and you trying so hard to control them thinking I’ll be bothered but,” Azriel took a sharp breath when she kissed his wrist “they’re not a bother. I’m not afraid of them. I like them”

Azriel was falling. He was spiralling down into himself, all the way to his shadowed heart.

“You like them?” he asked so quietly, fear lacing his every word.

“I do. They’re part of you Azriel” she interlaced their hands “What is there not to like?”

Azriel felt like crying. He felt like crying because for the first time someone outside of his family had looked at him and actually seen him.

Not a monster who killed and spied and tortured for his High Lord.

Not an Illyrian who was a traitor to his own race.

Not the quiet friend who was satisfied to be in the shadows.

Not a protector doing his duty.

Emerie saw him.

She saw all the good, the bad and the awkward Azriel so desperately tried to conceal.

And she was not afraid.

“Can I hope then?” he dared himself to ask, resting his forehead against hers “Can I hope you feel this? This feeling that I can’t quite place?”

“You can” she answered “Because I hoped you felt the same thing”

Azriel still did not know how to name this feeling between them yet. But he was sure of one thing.

He was dying to know what it was.

And Emerie would help him in every path of this discovery.

•

Emeriel Tags: @julemmaes @angrypotatofairy @illyrianwitchling @moe8 @thewayshedreamed @ko0mbayamylord @rosegoldannie @fourshizzle149 @arin1030 @elide-lochan-salvaterre @the-bookish-deer

Fixed Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030 @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @allilal @sensitiveillyrian @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan

{I ended up creating an Emeriel tag list, so please let me know if you want to be added in either the Emeriel or my Fixed Tag list}

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Smoke & Mirrors - part 2

Neil x Reader

Chapter 2: What kind of man

(see chapter 1)

summary: the matchmaking trio changes their strategy, and you end up on a sparring mat with Neil

warnings: language and other explicit things, 18+ and I MEAN IT

author’s note:  ...you know what? I don’t want to take any responsibility for where this chapter ended up going. Those characters have mind of their own and at this point I can just write it down and try not to die on the way. (I know it’s far from what we’ve discussed A, but it’s best I could do with what these two had given me, promise to do better next time)

The song for this chapter is Florence + The Machine - “What kind of man”  (changed from “Undisclosed desires”, don’t ask me, I don’t know either)

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?

___

“...and you really think this is a good idea?” 

“It sure beats yours,” said Ives and took a sip from his cup.

TP huffed and smacked his arm. “Hey, I thought it was our idea!”

“What matters is,” - Wheeler chimed in, fighting a losing battle to hide the annoyance in her voice - “it was a terrible one, and we have to do better if you want them to not get each other killed on the field.”

Ives pondered for a while. When he looked at Wheeler, his eyes were full of concern. “Honestly? This sounds like a recipe for someone getting hurt.”

She kept forgetting how protective he could be over his friend. Although this time, she thought, the one at risk was definitely Neil. 

Wheeler smiled reassuringly. “Trust me, it’s gonna work.”

_________________

There was a certain peace in the emptiness of the HQ’s shooting range in the early morning. It always helped you clear your head - there was no place for emotions while you were holding a gun. And you always knew when to come there to be alone. 

At least up until today.

Just as you finished your routine and grabbed your bag, the door opened and you were greeted by the smirk from under the messy blonde mane. 

Bloody perfect.

A week had passed since the bar encounter, seven long days filled with Neil’s tiresome presence during your work time. If it wasn’t a merged mission of your squads, there were training sessions. The shooting range was your last place free from the walking reminder of your recent failure. 

Not anymore, apparently. 

“Going out already? Too bad, I was hoping to get some tips from you.”

“Aim and pull the trigger. Repeat. It’s really that simple,” you said, shrugging.

The blue eyes narrowed behind yellow-tinted lenses of the safety glasses as Neil sent a forced smile your way. “Never would have guessed,” he deadpanned.

You passed by him, not willing to allow him to get under your skin. But then, just as you were about to exit the room, you stopped and cursed internally at yourself. Closing the door and turning around, you placed your bag quietly on the ground and leaned back against the wall. With your arms crossed, you watched Neil as he prepared his pistol and started the practice. 

You studied his posture, the way he held the gun in his gloved hands, trying to find any weak points in his technical side. There wasn’t too much to improve, his problem with shooting during the missions must have been elsewhere. You briefly glanced over the rolled sleeves of his navy blue shirt and the way his jaw tightened when he checked the target to grade his accuracy. 

“Look at that, you actually can hit a target,” you said and the corner of your lips twitched. “An easy one and not quite lethally but still, I’d call that a progress.”

Neil scoffed and glared at you over the shoulder. “I thought you were done for today.”

The subtle hints of frustration rang in his voice, catching you by surprise. You didn’t know why, but all of the sudden, the satisfaction you felt had a bitter aftertaste. 

You eyed him carefully before speaking again, this time easing up on the mocking tone. Just a bit. “Maybe you just need to train in a more stressful environment.”

A sardonic smile tainted Neil’s lips as he focused on the target again. 

“Keep talking then.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you left the shooting range. 

Fucking hell, he was just infuriating.

_________________

You stared at the bulletin board in disbelief. The new training lineup added one-on-one sparring sessions, and your name was all the way at the bottom of the list, which only meant more late evenings at the headquarters. And as for the choice of your sparring partner-...

With the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar figure, trying to sneak by you unnoticed. You turned around quickly. “Ives, why do you guys hate me so much?”

He sighed slowly and patted you on the arm. “It’s nothing personal,” he said, his voice almost sincere. But you knew better, and after the crap they’d pulled on you last time, you had every right to be suspicious. 

“You could have picked anyone else for him,” you complained, quite desperate to try anything to avoid spending more time with that blonde pain in the ass.

“I didn’t pick shit,” Ives scoffed. “Besides, it’s just the combat practice, the usual training rotation stays the same.”

“And it’s a coincidence-”

“It’s not,” TP’s voice rang from behind you. “It’s the result of your recent evaluation.”

You stifled a curse. 

_________________

Neil’s brows furrowed in fake concern while he looked you up and down as you kicked off your shoes and stepped on the mat. The fact that you accidentally matched your black tank top and shorts to his black t-shirt and sweatpants didn’t get lost on him.

“What’s with the frown, sweetheart?” he teased. “I thought you might enjoy it, I saw the way you look at me.”

You smacked your lips as you began to stretch your arms and sneered, “Good, so you know how much I want to punch your stupid face.”

Neil kept his features casual, but the taunting sparks in his eyes were saying plenty. 

“I can’t wait to see you try.”

You started circling each other slowly. After seeing him in combat, you knew that you were in his domain. You tapped into all your bottled anger to cover the lack of confidence you suddenly felt in his calm presence. 

“Ground rules?” you asked, putting your guard up.

Neil’s shoulders raised in a slight shrug as he mirrored your pose nonchalantly. 

“Just show me what you got.”

And that’s what you did. 

You always considered your close combat skills adequate. Good enough to let you get out of most of the situations you’d found yourselves into during missions. But after yet another blocked hit, you weren’t so sure about that anymore. 

Meanwhile, Neil was clearly having fun watching you struggle to break through his defense. “You don’t like hand-to-hand combat,” he rather stated the fact than asked as he dodged under swing aimed for his head and lunged forward, tapping your right side to mark the exposed area. 

“If you’re that close, it means I’ve failed to shoot you,” huffing in frustration, you spun around and kicked, missing him just barely. Neil didn’t give you too much time to regain your balance, making you jump out of the way of his flying knee. He flitted around you and grabbed your wrist, twisting it quickly and pressing it to your back, quickly adding your other one there before you could do anything about it. 

“You never let anyone near you, huh?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine as you tried to wriggle your way out. Neil was definitely too close for comfort, both literally and figuratively. “You’re not my therapist, blondie,” you uttered through gritted teeth, taking a sudden step back right into his arms, a change of direction finally allowing you to escape his grasp.

“Thank god, because I feel sorry for them already,” Neil laughed dryly. His eyes narrowed as he watched your mouth open in disbelief at his remark and a shit-eating grin crept on his face. 

You don’t know what pissed you off more - the fact that he was bent on driving you mad, or the sudden realization that the fucker was clearly holding back. It didn’t matter that you were struggling enough with the moderate effort from his side; to you, it was an insult worse than the comment. 

You brushed a sweaty strand of hair from your forehead. “Aren’t you tired?” you snarled, shifting your balance back and forth. The question was vague enough, but from the way his expression changed, you knew he got the hint. The predatory flare in his eyes made the heart race in your chest. 

Neil sprung at you, faking a misstep on the way to throw you off balance. Your senses sharpened enough to predict his next move and you were there to deflect a lightning-quick hit to your abdomen. You returned with a strike at his side but to no luck. Neil ducked under your elbow and closed in on you, giving himself enough momentum to knock you down and pin you to the mat.

The self-satisfied stare just a few inches from your face was making the blood boil in your veins. Cursing internally at both his reach and flexibility, you squirmed under Neil and that only made him press his forearm to your chest even harder, a roguish smile tainting his lips. “See, there’s one thing you need to learn. You need to work smarter, not harder.”

An outraged cry built in your throat as you clenched your hands on his arms, trying to gain any leverage in your position. You glared into the blue eyes, the nauseating hate burning in every cell of your body.

Neil raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Oh no, did I hit a nerve?”

You let out a frustrated groan. Of course, that son of a bitch hit a fucking bullseye. And to make matters worse - he had a point, too. 

Neil spotted a change in your expression a second too late. You swiftly moved your hands and sneaked them under his t-shirt, sliding them up his stomach. His eyes widened as he gasped, reducing the pressure on your chest. That gave you enough room to maneuver, rolling him off you and pinning him with his wrists above his head. 

With your faces again just inches away from each other, both of you panted heavily; a part of you enjoyed Neil’s amused gaze, his mouth slightly open as he tried to level his breath. And then - 

“Good girl. Just like that.”

...fuck.

You didn’t know what exactly made your brain short-circuit. Was it the hoarse voice combined with the praise? The way the blue eyes suddenly got darker? Or both together?

And you didn’t even know how you found yourself underneath Neil again, flipped on your stomach, your hands behind your back. With one cheek pressed against the cold mat, you shivered at the sudden warmth of his uneven breath on your neck. 

A throaty chuckle made your heart skip a bit. “Two can play the game, darling,” he purred as his lips brushed against your ear. 

Your mind went blank again. 

Somehow, you made your way back to the shared locker room.

You leaned your back against the wall, crossing your arms. The tension between the two of you was almost volatile, elevating your heartbeat with every second passed and every step Neil made your way. 

“You’re insufferable.”

You grinned slyly as your eyes flared up. 

“The feeling is mutual, blondie.”

The way his gaze got even darker made your breath hitch. The burning sensation inside of you was something more than hatred now, not caring if you were ready to admit it or not.

He smacked his tongue, a vicious smile dangled in the corner of his lips. 

“You really should stop calling me that.”

The hidden threat in his tone made your mouth dry. You raised a brow and held your breath. 

“Or?”

He closed in on you and grabbed your chin harshly.

“Or I’ll make you.” 

You flashed your teeth and taunted him again. 

“Can’t wait to see you try.”

Neil hummed and moved a pad of his thumb against your lips, making you gasp breathlessly and lose all the resolve you had left. A dry chuckle in response to your expression was enough to haze your mind. You tilted your head as Neil leaned in, drawing his attention just where you wanted him. It took all your willpower not to sigh when he sucked at the skin just below your ear and your fingers raked through blonde hair, pulling Neil even closer. 

His hands roamed your body hungrily while his mouth moved down your neck. When you felt his fingers going up your thigh, you tugged at his t-shirt, and as they moved even higher, your hips bucked involuntarily, so eager to feel him where you needed him the most.

A sharp chuckle against your collarbone as he palmed over the almost completely soaked-through fabric of your shorts sent a bolt of pleasure through your every nerve. You could feel your core pulsing even harder as his long fingers rubbed you just right.

Your hand flew back up and yanked at his hair, making him look at you just before you trailed his jawline with your mouth. Neil groaned and a laugh rattled in your chest. 

You reached for his waistband, but he was faster. Next thing you knew, your shorts and panties were gone and Neil lifted you and pinned you to the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he slid his arm around your lower back. You nearly cried out when he thrust into you mercilessly; instead, you dug your nails into his back and sank your teeth in your bottom lip. As Neil picked up the pace, you clung to him for dear life. The heat radiating from his body carried the musky smell mixed with the almost fade-out scent of his cologne, the combination so intoxicating it made you lightheaded. You felt yourself tighten around him as he ground into you relentlessly, and pathetic whine escaped your mouth. Hearing that, Neil slowed down, almost stopping and you groaned in frustration when you realized what he was doing. 

“I hate you,” you uttered through gritted teeth, panting heavily, rolling your hips, longing for the friction that son of a bitch was purposely denying you.

Neil pulled back enough so you could see the roguish sparks in his eyes accompanied by a mischievous grin. 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he teased, his voice low and raspy.

You huffed, outraged by the audacity and he laughed, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he picked up where he’d left off. The fire he’d just fueled blazed in your veins, your heart raced in your chest and you felt yourself climbing the peak again. Wrapping your arms around him and pulling yourself closer, you frantically gasped for air and squeezed your eyes shut as you came undone with a loud moan, the pleasure hitting every fiber of your body in violent shockwaves. That was enough to send Neil over the edge, a deep groan escaping his mouth as he came into you, tightening his grasp on you almost painfully. 

At that moment, you were nothing but a trembling mess in his arms. Coming down, you pressed your forehead to his, enjoying the way your breaths intertwined. 

When both of you regained your senses, you pushed him away and picked up your clothes. As you were both decent enough, you glared at Neil.

“This changes nothing,” you said. 

The self-satisfied look in his eyes made you realize your mistake. 

No nickname. 

You cursed internally, but it was already too late. He’d had it his way, in the end. 

Neil’s lips curled in a half-smile.

“How tragic.”

(next chapter ->)

[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley chapter 14

“It’s Bakugo.”

“Old Bakugo,” said Todoroki.

“I don’t know,” said Uraraka. “He hasn’t sworn at us yet.”

“Wish fulfillment old Bakugo,” corrected Todoroki.

First contact, said two voices. Aizawa could recognize one as belonging to Two.

“Stop comparing me to the exploding brat,” snapped Two. He returned his attention to Midoriya. “I don’t agree with your philosophy,” he said. “But this isn’t the time or the place.”

Midoriya nodded even as he swayed in place, the edges of his body fuzzy.

“Your idea will work. Eight can take him.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Aizawa.

“Nine here just ran into that fire user.”

“Dabi,” supplied Midoriya, voice thin. “Thank you for letting me use your quirk, sensei.”

“Anytime,” said Aizawa.

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Uraraka.

“Stay back and don’t distract him,” said Two. “I’d send you on ahead to One, but I need to give him my power if he wants his ridiculous escape plan to work.” He crossed his arms. “Focus, Nine.”

.

The thing was, Dabi relied on his quirk to the exclusion of everything else. Which was fine. It was a powerful quirk, and his body really wasn’t up to quirkless fighting, seeing as it was literally stapled together.

But there was a reason he had not faced Aizawa himself in the training camp, but instead had delegated that task to one of Twice’s duplicates. No matter how much his quirk hurt him, no matter how much it reminded him of that man and that time, he did not fare well in fights without it.

Toshinori and Izuku had picked up on this, and, thanks to the joys of partial telepathy and haunted quirks, had managed to come up with a plan.

It was, if Izuku was being honest, a sort of terrible plan, but Izuku and Toshinori were both injured and exhausted, and it was the best they could come up with.

Izuku would hang back and cancel Dabi’s quirk, while Toshinori beat him to a pulp.

This division of labor was decided upon through the observation that Toshinori had much greater experience in beating people to pulp and that Izuku probably wouldn’t be able to focus on using Aizawa’s quirk and fighting at the same time. But Izuku worried. Toshinori had been under so much strain today. His body was in just as bad a shape as Dabi’s. If Izuku blinked.

So don’t blink.

What a comforting consensus from the peanut gallery in the back of his head.

Nana chuckled, but she sounded strained. Not much else we can do for you right now, kid.

.

Toshinori was prepared to fight dirty.

As a hero and Symbol of Peace, he was often faced with the expectation that his fights be clean, straightforward affairs. Usually, he complied with the expectation. Few people could match his strength. Few enemies stood up again or kept fighting after he knocked them back, once. For those enemies who could match him, relatively clean fights were often still the best option to defeat them.

But there had always been exceptions, All for One being chief among them.

Toshinori could fight dirty. It was a skill he knew better than to let lapse.

He knew how much old injuries could hurt, and he had no scruple against going after them. Any weak point was fair game.

(This wasn’t even beginning to mention the others, still whispering in the back of his mind, who had maintained the thin line between the light of hope and the darkness of despair for so many years.)

His fist impacted the line of Dabi’s medical staples. Toshinori felt them bite into his knuckles, felt Dabi’s skin tear around them.

The man – the boy, really, he couldn’t be more than a handful of years older than Izuku – reeled back, shaking his hands as if he couldn’t quite believe his quirk was gone. Then he looked up, at Izuku, and Toshinori could give him this, at least: He caught on fast.

He snapped an arm out, clotheslining Dabi before he could pass him and attack Izuku. Dabi hit the ground, and Toshinori tried to follow up his advantage with a sharp kick to the head.

But, even with as much experience as Toshinori had, Dabi was younger and sprier. He recovered quickly, retaliating with comparatively clumsy but strong fists.

Toshinori was very aware of the time limit he was on. How long had Izuku kept his eyes open already? Aizawa could only keep his version of the quirk going for a few minutes.

He knew when Izuku started to waver, the concern of the past users going clear and sharp in the back of his head.

Dabi’s hands burst into flame.

“Touya!”shouted Izuku.

The man whipped his head around, apparently forgetting that Toshinori was even there.

“We saw your hair dye, you drama queen!”

Toshinori grabbed the sides of Dabi’s head, and tried to slam it into his knee, but Dabi pulled free. They were both breathing heavily, now, but Izuku had his eyes back open and fixed on Dabi.

Toshinori doubted they’d be so lucky to distract Dabi again. The others slid into place in his mind, their experience neatly complimenting his own. They needed to finish it before Izuku had to blink again.

They raised their fists.

“Visit your mom, you loser!”

They closed in.

“At least tell the police what happened to you, so they can get your siblings out!”

.

So, it turned out Izuku did have something else to contribute to the fight.

.

“Please repeat what you told me earlier,” ordered the HPSC president.

The hapless liaison with the DNA testing center flinched, then hid the flinch behind a cough. “Well,” he said, “our technicians ran Midoriya’s DNA through a number of databases, and Midoriya is related to the Scourge of Kamino, but, uh, I think it best if I let her explain the rest.” He stepped out of view of the camera, the coward.

The technician waved at the camera. “Hi, uh. So, I guess the first weird thing about the sample you gave me was how contaminated it was. There were, like, almost a dozen different people’s worth of DNA in the sample you gave me, which… usually Hawks is better than that? But then I remembered the nomu DNA, and the Scourge’s DNA, so in retrospect… Anyway, I sort of ran them all through our databases—”

“Which databases?” interrupted Mr. Brave. “The commission ones, the police ones, the public ancestry ones?”

“All of them,” said the technician. “I ran them through the old ones, too, because the Scourge of Kamino is supposed to be over a hundred years old, isn’t he? I’m kind of surprised he wasn’t run through the old databases himself earlier. You could have closed dozens of cases.”

“Get on with it,” hissed the offscreen commission liaison.

“But I ran them through, and, uh, one was All Might.”

A whisper ran through the room. “He stole All Might’s quirk?” asked one hero, traumatized.

“I don’t know,” said the technician, nervously. “I mean, All Might was there, so it could have just been contaminated in the normal way, but… No, I’ll come back to All Might’s DNA in a bit. Then there were three other heroes’ DNA, Skyrunner, Fidelity, and Lariat.”

“We’ll have to assume he has their quirks, too,” said the commission president grimly, for the benefit of the assembled heroes. “Continue.”

“Another matched to the vigilante Forewarning. Then one matched to what was labeled as a 99% surety DNA sequence from Tempest.”

“My god,” said Mr. Brave.

“Then there were some sequences that matched to samples taken from the scenes of various crimes and terrorist actions but are otherwise unknown. That left two DNA samples that could be Midoriya’s assuming he isn’t over a hundred years old. They both matched as relatives to the Scourge of Kamino.”

“What kind of relatives?”

“Uh, one was rather distant, and was actually had the least DNA present out of all the other strands… The closest possible relation would be half-brother, although cousins might be possible… The other was a parent-child relationship, and the most present DNA sequence, so I would assume that one belonged to Midoriya. The thing is…” She trailed off.

“We don’t have all day.”

“The thing is, all of the different people I’ve mentioned also are related to the Scourge of Kamino.”

Silence.

“Excuse me,” said Mt. Lady, raising a hand. “Did you say all of them? Like, including—”

“Including All Might, yes, though he’s probably more like a great-grandson or something along those lines,” said the technician. “Once you get more than a generation or two, it’s hard to tell, because the ratios of what you get from grandparents aren’t even…”

“Do you have anything more to add?”

“Yeah. After running them through the databases… Well, there are dozens of active heroes that are at least loosely related to either them or the Scourge of Kamino, not to mention villains, common criminals, and civilians who had to register their DNA for one reason or another. And the ShiHi cell line? The one that replaced the HeLa line in almost every drug trial after the quirked population got majority status? That’s a perfect match.” She laughed, clearly on the edge of hysteria. “I mean, I don’t know what we expected. He’s over a century old, of course he’s going to have kids and family members. And he’s – And he’s clearly into shady medical research. Wouldn’t put it past him to have donated to sperm banks, the sick—”

The commission president muted the technician. “You see,” he told the heroes, “why we must act to contain and neutralize Midoriya Izuku as a threat as soon as possible. So many heroes being related to an archvillain like the Scourge of Kamino would damage confidence in the hero system, perhaps irreparably.”

“Are any of us-?”

“I don’t think that’s relevant right now, do you?” asked the commission president, smoothly. “What is relevant is ensuring that Midoriya’s DNA family tree never gets into public hands.” He fell quiet, scanning the heroes with dark eyes. “Regardless of whether or not any of you could find yourselves in it, the fact of the matter is that the ensuing investigations would lay bare other things you may not wish to come to light.” He cleared his throat. “Now, Hawks is putting together a team to track down the League of Villains. In light of recent revelations, we believe they have been working closely with Midoriya…”

.

“Maybe you can use my quirk,” said Shouto. “If you’re fighting Dabi, ice would be the perfect counter.”

Midoriya shook his head. “You’re not related. Can’t.”

“What?”

Two sighed. “The trick he did with your teacher’s quirk only works on people related to him.”

Shouto blinked, then turned to look at Aizawa. “Sensei—”

“Absolutely not,” said Iida, loudly.

“You don’t know what I was going to say,” protested Shouto.

“You can’t ask people if they have secret love children! It’s improper! Let us simply wait quietly like, ah, I’m not sure we caught your name earlier, sir.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Two.

“In any case, let us wait quietly,” said Iida, not one to be easily put out.

“I’m related to Midoriya?” asked Aizawa in tones approaching despair.

“You are,” said Two. “I think you’re related to one of my younger siblings, like Six is. Possibly to the Shimuras, as well, given the secondary portion of your quirk.”

“So,” said Shouto, the gears in his brain turning, “Midoriya is related to all of you?”

“Some more distantly than others, but, yes.”

“So, he based you off relatives and people he knew in real life.”

Two sighed heavily. “Look. That was obviously a lie. Six only bothered with it because of that government bastard that’s crawling around.”

Midoriya had been right. Shouto’s conspiracy theories could be used as an interrogation technique.

“Then what’s the truth?” asked Shouto. “Or are you just embarrassed, like Midoriya is about how All Might is clearly his father?”

Midoriya made a very distressed sound, and Shouto realized that maybe this wasn’t the time.

“You have no room to talk when the pyromaniac currently trying to roast Eight is your older brother, you peppermint styled weirdo.”

“You really are like Bakugo.”

“Do you have some sort of death wish?”

“C-can you guys not? This is hard…” said Midoriya. Then, he gasped and fell to his knees. “He got him. Oh, gosh.” He took a deep breath. “My eyes.”

“Luckily, you won’t need them for this,” said Two, kneeling in front of Midoriya. “In the movement, I was called Shadow Dragon. One came up with the name. He named my quirk, too. Perception Filter. Wanted to name it Chameleon Circuit for a while, but that made no sense. He was such a nerd. He’s still a nerd.”

“Yeah?” panted Midoriya. “Guess that… isn’t a surprise. He used old manga to support his arguments with—No, it doesn’t make it better that you only used that argument once. I mean, sure, I’d probably have made the same—”

“Focus, Nine,” said Two, snapping his fingers in front of Midoriya’s face.

Shouto stepped forward.

“It’s okay, Todoroki,” said Midoriya. “I’m just… How did it work? The Perception Filter?”

“No idea. We didn’t have fancy tests and doctors on hand to figure out the mechanics. But I can tell you what it did. When it first came in—” Midoriya nodded at this, as if he heard something in the sentence that Shouto was missing, “—I could disappear from the senses of one targeted person, along with anything I was carrying. Sight, hearing, smell – that last will be the important one for you.”

“Gigantomachia,” said Midoriya, nodding again.

“Exactly. Later, I was able to affect more people at a time, and my range grew. The fewer people I was hiding from, the farther I could reach, up to about a mile. Sometimes, I could draw attention towards myself, too, although I could never keep it up for long.”

“Activation?” asked Midoriya.

“Don’t think too hard about being hidden. You’re blending in. Part of the scenery. No ripples on the surface of the pond. A shadow inside a shadow.”

“Okay,” said Midoriya. “I think I’ve got it. Were you… were you ever able to hide other people with you? Otherwise…”

“Sometimes I thought I did. When Three and I worked together, we were always way luckier than we should have been, and there were some incidents with cars… But it never happened in a way I could test. Your best bet is just carrying Eight.”

“R-right. Okay. I’ll try that.”

.

“Izuku, you can barely open your eyes. Or stand up. You aren’t going to carry me.”

“But Two said—”

Toshinori frowned deeply and hoped Two got the message. “Just focus on yourself, right now, alright? Gigantomachia will be looking for you, first, not me.”

We’ve always been thankful Gigantomachia isn’t the brightest of All for One’s minions.

Even if he is one of the most annoying.

I don’t know if annoying is the word I’d use…

Toshinori blinked and shook his head. “You’re shaking,” he said.

“I’m okay,” said Izuku, trying to get up. “T’many quirks at once.”

Toshinori put his hands on Izuku’s shoulders, silently telling him to stay down. What a time to forget where he had packed the blankets… Although…

He looked back at where he’d propped Dabi, unconscious, up against a tree.

Dabi seemed to have a cold resistance vestigial mutation… although how Toshinori knew that was a mystery for another day (one probably connected with how One for All manifested in Izuku) and he was a fire quirk user. He didn’t really need that jacket. Besides, Toshinori was a villain now. Sort of. As he and Izuku had discussed earlier, villains were veritable bastions of pettiness.

He stole Dabi’s coat and wrapped it around Izuku’s shoulders.

.

Miles away, trying to coordinate heroes over a video call, Hawks lost contact with one of his feathers. Specifically, the one he’d hidden in Dabi’s coat. He did not frown, twitch, stutter, or otherwise falter. He did, however, curse internally, using words he suspected the hero commission would have like him to never have learned.

Dabi must have found the feather and destroyed it. Hawks had thought he’d hidden it better than that.

This was going to be a pain to explain.

.

Giagantomachia paused for a second, then, with a howl, redoubled his attacks.

“Can anyone tell what he’s screaming about?” demanded Tomura.

“No idea!” said Toga, her cheerfulness more than a little ragged.

“Hey, boss!” said Twice. “If I made a double of this guy, do you think they’d fight each other, or – Dear god, who in their right mind would want two of these things running around?”

“LITTLE LORD,” wailed Machia, “WHERE DID YOU GO?”

“Say, Shigaraki,” said Mr. Compress, narrowly dodging a boulder, “you don’t – ha – think he’s referring to the little green haired – er, white haired – oh, you know what I mean.”

Yeah, Tomura did, actually, which meant the brat (who might be Sensei’s brat – don’t think about it) was around here somewhere, and they’d missed him.

(Like everything else about this situation, Tomura had mixed feelings about this.)

“So, maybe, if the boy and the giant are acquainted, the mother—”

“Do all of you idiots have a death wish? You don’t fight two bosses at once unless you want to be pancaked.”

“I was thinking she could perhaps calm the giant—”

“Yeah, right before they team up to kill us. What part of this are you not getti-?”

Mr. Compress didn’t quite make the dodge and was catapulted into one of the few nearby trees that were still standing. As he lost consciousness, all of the various marbles in his pockets ballooned and broke, disgorging their contents. This meant that Tomura had to rescue Midoriya Inko from being crushed between an entire bus stop shelter (why, Compress, why?) and several logs, because if there was even a chance that she was Sensei’s wife, Tomura didn’t fancy his chances at staying alive if she was unalived in his general vicinity.

As Tomura was in no way a goody-two-shoes hero student, had never trained himself to safely save people, and had a quirk that literally destroyed everything his touched, this went far from perfectly.

At least Midoriya seemed unharmed.

“Ah,” she said. “My shirt.” She shifted slightly. “And my bra…”

There was a shout of utter rage from Gigantomachia, and Tomura contemplated just letting Machia kill him. Surely, being stomped flat by a man taller than most five story buildings would be less painful than whatever Sensei would come up with.

“Oh, my, Machia, is that you?” asked Midoriya Inko, quite calmly, as if she weren’t standing half naked in the middle of a battlefield in winter. “It’s been forever.”

“MRS. LORD!” shouted Machia, his eyes tearing up. “I AM SO SORRY! I LOST LITTLE LORD!”

“Oh, really? He was here, then?” Her eyes were glittering. “I’m sure he couldn’t have gone too far. If we walk around a bit, I’m sure he’ll hear us calling. In the meantime… perhaps you can explain to me what, exactly, you do for my husband? Your role in his business seems to have been downplayed.”

.

“Is that better?” asked Toshinori.

Izuku nodded tiredly. Despite Two’s instructions, he couldn’t keep up Perception Filter and, well, do anything else, really. Toshinori wasn’t much better. Izuku could tell, through One for All, that he was also on his last legs.

“Alright. Let’s keep going the way we were before,” said Toshinori, pulling Izuku up. “Got to get out of Gigantomachia’s range, so you can sleep.”

He did not say that reaching the Wild Wild Pussycats’ camp was now out of the question, with how beaten up they were. They’d be sleeping outside tonight. Hopefully they had enough clothes and blankets…

Izuku shuddered as the pounding sensation in his head increased.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” said Toshinori, guiding Izuku with a hand on his back. “Good, you have the briefcase, good.” Toshinori kept muttering encouragement. Izuku really wasn’t paying attention, which made him feel terrible, but he had to keep Perception Filter going. He had to keep going. Just a little bit more… Aizawa-sensei and his friends were almost to One. One would get them out before he broke through.

He just had to hold on until then.

.

Midoriya’s form flickered and then faded. Two sighed.

“Is he alright?” asked Aizawa. “Is he safe?”

“As safe as he and Eight can be, wandering through a forest filled with All for One’s minions while the government tries to track him down in the middle of winter,” replied Two. “Which isn’t very safe, speaking from experience. Come on, let’s go.” Two walked out the hole in the wall, not waiting to see if Aizawa or any of the kids followed.

“You’re calling Yagi Eight, now?” asked Aizawa.

“That’s his number, yeah. Hurry up.”

“Yagi, not Yagi’s… impression, his copy in Midoriya’s mind.” Two didn’t answer. “You aren’t impressions or copies at all, are you? You’re real people, somewhere, that Midoriya is connected to. Why pretend otherwise?”

“Some of the others thought Nine could fix things with the government, if they didn’t know what was really going on. Thought it would be ‘worth it.’ So stupid, after everything…” They walked through the compound gate and into a living room.

“It seems awfully contrived, though. Why try to be dead heroes? Why pick people like Skyrunner and Fidelity to impersonate?”

Two snorted. “They weren’t impersonating anyone. They really are Skyrunner and Fidelity. Except for Eight and Nine, we’re all dead, otherwise we would have finished this by now. Eight almost did, all on his own.”

They turned a corner. Two young children played in a bedroom while a teen watched on. One child was obviously a younger version of Two. That hair was distinctive. The other child had a short curtain of white hair. They had action figures they were playing with, although Aizawa didn’t recognize who they were of.

First contact, said a single, young voice.

The face of the teen leaning against the wall was scribbled out, as if with a marker.

“Don’t look too closely at that one,” said Two.

“Who is that?” asked Uraraka.

“All for One. I suppose you’d call him the Scourge of Kamino.”

“He’s your older brother?” asked Todoroki, his eyebrows raised into his hairline.

“Don’t be disgusting. Biologically speaking, he was my cousin.”

Oh, no, thought Aizawa, don’t tell me... “Is he the one you have locked away? The one you don’t count as being ‘among your number?’”

Two sighed again.

“Are you doing that instead of swearing?” asked Todoroki. “The sighing, I mean.”

“I told you to stop comparing me to the explosion brat! I—” Two tsked, then frowned. “Something’s not right.”

“What is it?”

“This isn’t a safe memory, just a quick one. One should have been here to pick you up by now.”

“What do you mean, it isn’t safe?” asked Iida, before Aizawa could. “No matter how immersed we are here, it is only a memory, isn’t it?”

“You did hear the part where he’s breaking in, didn’t you? And the part where we’re all real people? Are those glasses just for show?”

“The real All for One is trying to break into Midoriya’s mind,” said Aizawa.

“W-wait,” said Uraraka, “but… Izuku… That wouldn’t mean that the commission was right…”

“Of course not. Nine would probably cut off all his limbs before betraying his friends. Even if I don’t agree with him, and think he shouldn’t… I can still see that. But where is One?”

“Why are you telling us this?” asked Aizawa. “You’ve told us why the others didn’t. But you have no reason to say anything, yourself, do you?”

Two turned slightly, to gaze at Aizawa out of the corner of his eye.

“As long as we’re waiting, I might as well collect as much information as possible, right?”

“It’s insurance,” said Two, finally. “It’s hard to see how this will turn out. Eight wants to take Nine out of the country, but even if that works, All for One will still be here. Someone else needs at least part of the story.” He turned more fully to face Aizawa, lips pressed tight against his teeth. “You have to understand. I want Nine to… do well. I don’t want this on him. He’s a kid. So are you.” He looked at the students, then back at Aizawa. “You’re all kids. If I can get someone else to take care of this for him, while he and Eight are somewhere safe…”

“All for One is in Tartarus,” said Aizawa.

“You think something like that’s going to stop him? I’m not entirely sure death would stop him. It didn’t stop us, and he’s at least as stubborn.”

Well, wasn’t this an impossibly heavy weight to set on Aizawa’s shoulders.

“I have no sympathy, you lazy caterpillar lookalike. You’re an adult, aren’t you? Get help if you can’t do it yourself. If I find out you pushed it onto children, I’ll kill you.”

“Wow, he’s secretly soft, too, just like Bakugo,” said Todoroki. “Are you sure you’re not related.”

“There is legitimately something wrong with you. Do you—”

.

The hinges of the vault snapped, and the door crumpled outward. Another well-placed kick sent the door tumbling outward with a crash.

Shaking his hand, All for One stepped into the mindscape and smiled.

“Well,” he said, dragging his gaze over the assembled One for All users, his sworn enemies and the closest thing he had to family, “isn’t this a lovely little reunion?”

[erin-bo-berin]

My Heroine

MASTERLIST

This fic was inspired by the song My Heroine by The Maine which you can listen to here, if you’d like. The song I’ve come to realize sounds like it can have multiple interpretations, but I was inspired to use the whole “reader is Spencer’s drug of choice” plot. Not gonna lie it was rough writing about his prison trauma cause I consider it to be one of his biggest traumas, but I kinda wanted this to be a journey from his avoidance of it to his eventual acceptance, all while sex is his “heroin” or the reader is the “heroine” in his story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 4,460

I’m feeling pretty dirty baby

Forgive my sins

I get the feeling you can save me honey,

My heroine

The silver gleam from the sharp blade caught his eye as it hit the light. In any other circumstances, the sharpness of it might actually be considered  beautiful.

This was anything but beautiful.

This was horrifying.

The metal was so closely pressed to skin that even a small flinch could draw blood.

“Never ever mess with a man’s stash on the inside. When you do,” the man paused for a second—a millisecond—before the knife sliced across the skin, ripping the hostage’s throat open.

He struggled against the person holding him, his momentary shock and need to help his friend making him fight the grip of the big man, even more.

“People get hurt,” the first guy said, backing away.

The second man let go of him, his friend falling to the floor, choking on his own blood. While they made their departure from the laundry room, he ran to his injured friend’s side, grabbing a towel to hold against the wound.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he repeated, kneeling over the only friendly face he’d known in the last weeks.

If he repeated it enough, he’d be okay. He had to be. 

“Guard!” he yelled.

His hands cradled his friend’s face as he lay gasping and wheezing, the fear in his eyes matching his own. 

In all the years, throughout all the things he saw that most normal people didn’t, he’d never been as terrified as he was right now. His heart raced from the fear and he was breathing heavy as he screamed as loud as he could.

“HELP! HELLLLP!”

Spencer shot up in bed, breathing hard.

His face was sweaty, his entire body was sweaty, in fact. His t-shirt clung to his skin.

He kicked off the covers, sitting on the side of his bed, running his hands through his hair. He tried in vain to calm his pounding heart and slow his breathing.

The nightmares hadn’t stopped. If anything, they’d gotten worse.

A rare burst of anger caused him to shove the object that was sitting on his nightstand, off of it with extreme force.

He glared at the journal on the floor where it had landed haphazardly. He didn’t want to write in it like his therapist suggested. It didn’t help him then and it wasn’t going to help him now.

He rubbed his eyes, trying desperately to erase all the images that constantly played behind his eyes, regardless if he was asleep or awake.

It was the middle of the night, but he knew what he needed. He grabbed his phone off the charger and sent a quick text.

I need a distraction.

The recipient would understand, he knew. It was only 1 am and they were known to be a night owl anyway. 

He grabbed a pair of pants to change into and pulled them on in place of his pajama pants. All he had to grab were his car keys and his phone and he was out the door.

-

It’d only been six months since Spencer had been released from prison in which he spent three long, grueling months in.

He had been framed.

That was the first thing he remembered thinking, even under the influence of heroin and cocaine, in which the unsub had drugged him with. He had been sitting in a prison cell in Mexico, but deep down he knew he hadn’t done anything, even if his mind was scrambled and tried desperately to convince himself otherwise.

Fucking Cat Adams. If she hadn’t been such a psychopath, he might’ve admired her intelligence and skills to pull off something so elaborate, but alas, she was.

Her and her female partner Lindsey Vaughn had been watching him, waiting to strike. All because Spencer had arrested Cat and outsmarted her. It’s where she belonged after all. She’d been a

hit woman, operating in the shadows of the dark web that even experts in the area couldn’t even fathom.

She, along with four other assassins had been working for years before any law enforcement even knew of their existence. Spencer and the rest of his fellow Behavioral Analysis team had been the only ones to get close enough to them. Close enough in fact, to take them all down, every last one.

Cat Adams though, had been the hardest one. She was one to play mind games and she hated to lose. Which she had against him; he’d outsmarted her and she was the one who’d landed in a prison cell.

Of course, being the kind of person she was, she wasn’t going to take that lying down. So, she returned the favor.

He had been determined to help his mother—Diana Reid—who’d been suffering from paranoid schizophrenia all his life, but now had been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s. He was smart, he was sure he could help her, fix her maybe.

There’d been a plethora of drug trials, medicine combinations, diet changes, but nothing helped. So without his teammates—who happened to be the closest friends he had—knowledge, he had been crossing the Mexico border numerous times to get medicine for his mother, one that was definitely not FDA approved.

It was one of these trips that Lindsey—and technically Cat too—had struck. 

She’d dosed him with a spray of scopolamine, pumped him full of cocaine and heroin and murdered the woman he’d been meeting to get the vials of medicine from.

It was bad, really bad. He was the prime suspect in the murder and that is how he ended up in Millburn Correctional Facility pending trial for three months.

Thankfully, the BAU had worked their asses off to clear his name, but in the time spent in prison he had experienced some pretty awful things.

If that hadn’t been bad enough, Cat had orchestrated another evil plan. Lindsey had managed to kidnap his mother.

Less than 12 hours after being released from jail, he was back in another one to face Cat again and play her games. 

She had been executed for her crimes and the additional charges she faced for framing him and kidnapping his mother. He wasn’t the least bit remorseful; if anything, he was glad he’d never have to deal with her again. He dealt with her in his mind enough as is.

Spencer didn’t deal with emotions very well, so it was no surprise to himself that he didn’t stop to process his trauma.

Instead, he found other outlets.

He’d known Y/N for several years but had done an awful job of keeping in touch as the years passed. He’d recently reconnected with her before his arrest and then he’d pulled away again.

He felt bad for never telling her until after the fact, but he’d been embarrassed enough. 

She was a good friend, one who had said she would do anything to help him if and when he needed it.

That’s how the arrangement began. It’d happened once, by accident, but it had helped him forget everything when he needed it the most.

Which is why at 1 a.m. he was headed over to her house, just to forget everything for a while.

Your hips, my hands, you swing and you dance

Yeah, I’m feeling pretty lonely baby 

Just let me in

Just let me in

The door to her apartment opened to reveal her barefoot and in a long, oversized t-shirt.

“Hey,” she greeted him.

He didn’t waste time with the greetings, he kicked the door closed with his foot and grabbed her face, kissing her.

Within minutes he had her pressed up against her door, hands roaming under her shirt as he kissed her hungrily.

He wanted to forget.

Needed to forget.

She moaned into the kiss. Lucky for him, she got horny easily. She was always ready to go at it whenever. Maybe it had something to do with him, although he didn’t know. He never really took the time to dwell on it.

His fingers stroked her bare stomach as his tongue moved against hers. Her hands clutched the bottom of his shirt, pulling away long enough to help him yank it over his head. Her shirt followed suit.

For a while, they stayed there, top halves pressed against one another as their lips moved together in a complicated, yet simple dance. 

They made out for a while, while Spencer forced his brain to empty and focus on her. It finally worked as he felt his crotch tighten, his need for her now more than just something to get him through the night.

She led him back to her bedroom and within minutes was kneeling in front of him, pulling his cock out of his pants.

“You gonna be a good little girl and suck my cock?” he mumbled, looking down at her with lidded eyes.

Normally, he would never fathom talking like this. But something had changed within him in the last six months. He was rougher around the edges, he quite literally didn’t give a fuck anymore. Which proved to be true since he quite literally had a fuck buddy—something the old Spencer wouldn’t even consider.

He cared about her, but like him, she didn’t want anything serious, so he never felt too bad taking advantage of her this way. Weren’t they both using each other anyway?

“Your wish is my command,” she purred, making his cock throb even more.

The moment her mouth touched him, his eyes closed in pure bliss, the feeling chasing the nightmares away.

His hand threaded in her hair, guiding her head as her tongue glided and mouth hollowed out, sucking him like her favorite popsicle. She was amazing at this, he definitely had to give her that.

“Y/N, fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking up towards her mouth.

Her tongue was his gateway to an anxiety free mind—at least for the time being.

He pushed her away after a few minutes. He wasn’t going to last if she kept that up much longer.

With surprising agility, he’d had her from her knees to bent over the end of the bed in seconds.

Their sessions were far from romantic love making—the type of intimacy he knew she deserved—but more animalistic and frenzied. 

He knew he was selfish and instead of letting her have what she deserved from a man, he held tight to her like she was his lifeline.

In a way, she had become his lifeline. Things got worse the longer he tried to stay away from her. That’s why he always returned.

Her moans and the slap of their bodies were the only sounds heard in the room as he thrust deep into her. Even as fucked up as he was, he had to be an idiot to not admit that sex with her was incredible. She was incredible.

“Spencer, oh my god, fuck.”

Her words came out in a strangled moan as he’d switched up the movements of his hips. Instead of the fast and harsh thrusts, they turned into slow and deeper ones. He may only be her fuck buddy, but he was still gonna be damn sure she got her pleasure out of it too.

His fingers dug into her hips as he tried to erase the images of his earlier nightmare with every thrust. Usually, it worked. Tonight though, he was struggling.

Instead of disappearing, the memories kept flashing through his head like a silent movie on repeat.

The helplessness everyone felt in that prison.

The fear he felt.

The images of a group of white men who pointed a knife in his face his first full night in prison.

Two, sneering and sadistically joyful faces hovering over him as they beat him to a pulp, smothering his face with a rag.

His desperate decision in doing something so awful that it hurt more men than he intended it to.

The constant paranoia.

The fear he had become a monster.

Every single moment inside he’d spent that he had to make choices he’d never fathomed he’d have to—only to survive.

Delgado.

“Switch it up,” he muttered, pulling out of her, turning her around.

His jaw was tense, his body was rigid. All he wanted was one orgasm to erase his nightmare.

Her eyes narrowed, sensing his tension but knowing better than to comment on it.

“Let me take care of you,” she whispered.

She pushed him towards the head of the bed, ordering him to sit against it. He did as he was told, focusing all of his attention on her again.

When she climbed into his lap to straddle him, his breathing had become ragged and he was glad that the stirrings of his arousal were coming back—his sexual attraction to her luring him back in again.

She sank down on him and he exhaled sharply, groaning lowly. The feeling of her tight around him was always like drinking water after being utterly parched.

“You like that?” she purred, her hands resting against his chest, “You like when I take care of you?”

“Very much so,” he growled.

He thread his hand into the back of her hair, pulling her face towards his. He kissed her roughly, his lower half meeting the speed she’d set since she was now the one in charge. Her pelvis grinded against his, giving her even more pleasure, he was sure.

As much as he did this for his benefit, he also had a small sense of pride in knowing he could make her moan and writhe like he did. His hands cupped her breasts, massaging them and she threw her head back with a loud moan. 

He could practically fall apart at that sight alone, but he managed to resist.

His lips attached to her throat, sucking harshly, sure to leave a mark. Their moves were frantic as she gripped the headboard and he bucked relentlessly into her.

They both spiraled into ecstasy, not that far apart from one another.

Sweaty and out of breath, she moved off of him, gathering her clothes and tossing his own to him.

“Want something to eat before you go?”

She asked it so nonchalantly it was as if he hadn’t just spent about half an hour buried to the hilt in her.

“No, thanks though.”

He wasn’t one to stay long after the deed, even though a part of him felt like an ass for it. Y/N didn’t deserve that. But if it ever bothered her, she never let on.

She nodded, watching him as he finished pulling his shirt over his head.

“I’m around, if you need me.”

Spencer gave a nod and headed to the door, grabbing his car keys on his way out.

You’re my heroine, but you’re suicide 

If I let you in you’ll crawl inside 

You save my skin

But you can’t wait to sink in 

My heroine

In a way, Y/N had become his drug.

Whenever things got too hard, he went to her. But lately, it was like every time he fucked her, it only left him needing more.

His PTSD was getting worse, the sex was only distracting him for so long, but he was stubborn. He wasn’t going to give her up anytime soon.

The PTSD was also affecting his work and he knew it.

It’d been six months since his release from prison, but he’d only been reinstated for three months. He worked his ass off to get his position back and he wasn’t about to let his emotions get the best of him.

He was currently trying to focus on the geo profile in front of him, but his vision kept blurring. He rubbed his eye, trying hard to block out everything else but this case.

He was becoming increasingly irritable as well.

It had only been a week since his last visit to Y/N, but he was craving her and her distractions so much. His nightmares hadn’t ceased, he was hardly sleeping and his teammates weren’t oblivious.

They knew he was having a hard time readjusting.

Spencer doubted they knew just how bad it really was though.

The map blurred in front of his eyes again, the sight being replaced with moving pictures, his memories being played before his eyes.

Like the time he was so desperate to survive, he poisoned drugs that he was supposed to move, instead of getting involved with the situation.

He ended up causing several men to get incredibly sick—his guilt over that still haunted him at night.

Prison was an incredibly dangerous place and he had been too good of a person to survive as long as he had.

For a while he’d had two friends; Delgado and Shaw.

One was murdered in front of him.

The other turned out to be using him. Shaw ran the entire prison population. He called the shots and people listened to him. But Spencer wanted no part of that.

Making an enemy of Shaw had been deadly. In fact, it came close to being deadly. Spencer could’ve easily lost his life behind bars.

It had been months since he had been locked up, but the sense of helplessness he felt still haunted him to this day. It smothered him like the sweltering heat on a hot, summer day.

He rubbed his palms into his eyes. He felt like he couldn’t breathe while at the same time his heart rate accelerated. His sense of fight or flight was being triggered and he couldn’t stop the sense of dread that was engulfing his senses.

“Spence, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just need some fresh air,” he answered, brushing past a worried JJ.

The moment he exited the crowded police station and the cool air hit his face, he felt fractionally better, but the anxiety still gripped him.

He gripped his tie, yanking at it and loosening it, so he could breathe. The feel of it around his neck had been making him feel like he was suffocating more so than he already had been.

His therapist had told him panic attacks were normal with PTSD, but he hadn’t had them much. This was an exception apparently.

He leaned against the brick of the building and tried to focus on his breathing to bring his heart rate down. After all he’d endured, he wasn’t about to let a damn panic attack take him down.

His eyes were closed as he tried to calm down, so he didn’t hear Luke approaching.

“Reid.”

He opened his eyes, seeing his teammate Luke Alvez, standing next to him. 

He wondered how he currently looked through Luke’s eyes. A mess, probably. 

Luke didn’t beat around the bush, either.

“Your PTSD has gotten worse, hasn’t it?” he asked, gently.

Spencer shrugged.

“Spencer, if you need to take some time—”

“I don’t need to take time off because I’m fine,” he snapped.

Luke flinched as if Spencer had physically hit him. If anything, he knew that his outburst was just further proof at how not okay he was.

“I need to get back to work,” he mumbled, moving around Luke to head back inside.

He wasn’t sure of anything much lately, but one thing he knew for sure was when they got back from the current case, he was heading straight to Y/N’s apartment.

I feel a little withdrawal baby,

Come pick me up

Took a hit from your level

Now I just can’t get enough 

Your taste, my touch

A little bit of love and a whole lot of lust 

He was back at her door, knocking.

She opened the door, dressed in another oversized t-shirt—due to the late hour of night—and greeted him with a wordless nod. Somehow, he thought she knew that he was having a bad time today.

He looked like shit, that he knew. His hair was a mess of tangled curls, his eyes were bloodshot and deep, dark bags shined brightly under his face, darker than his normal appearance. His cheekbones were more prominent lately as well since he wasn’t eating much, nor was he sleeping well either.

“How do you want me?” she asked.

Her tone was dull and to the point and threw him off guard for a moment. She’d never made it about her, ever. But now, looking at her, he could see her unhappiness. Whether he caused it or not, he was unsure.

This arrangement of theirs had been only to help him forget. Too quickly, it had become like an addiction for him. She was like his drug. He needed her to forget. But maybe, at the same time, she was tired of trying to help him when he couldn’t even help himself.

He promised himself that this would be the last time. Once more and he’d let her go. He’d let her be free of him. She’d be happier anyways.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said.

He tried to be gentle as he pulled her towards him. As he kissed her, he felt her body melt into his. Maybe he had been imagining her mood earlier.

He tried to focus on getting hard, not on all the horrors that constantly swirled in his mind.

His lips moved swiftly with hers in a kiss that was anything but romantic or gentle. It was lust driven and filled with his own desperate need to be distracted.

She knew exactly what to do to get him in the mood, that’s for sure. 

Her teeth tugged at his lower lip gently, her tongue almost the complete opposite of their current actions. It was gentle and hesitant as it met his before continuing its dance with his own.

He pulled her closer, his hand tangled in her hair as he kissed her more roughly, pushing her against the arm of her couch.

In the blink of an eye, he had her turned around and bent over the arm, his hand gliding over the silk material of her underwear. He felt a small swell of pride hearing her moan as he touched her. It also went a long way in helping his own arousal which was now throbbing in his pants.

He was already unbuttoning his pants as he kissed her neck, his hips pressing into hers. The more he got into it, the more he actually felt that he wanted this—that he wanted her.

With one smooth movement, he had her underwear pulled down to her thighs and he entered her with a groan.

But he couldn’t focus. 

Somehow, without him realizing it, the memories had slipped through a crack in his mind.

Instead of being there with Y/N, he was back in that cell.

The countless hours sitting in a cell, trying to remember something he never did.

The desperation, the helplessness in that place.

Familiar faces he dealt with sped across his mind.

Malcolm, Shaw, Delgado, Wilkins. Frazier, Duerson, the two men who gave him a beating meant for Delgado.

The fear he felt in those final days when he had no one to trust, when he had to stab himself in the leg to get into solitary confinement, just to stay alive.

The horrible memories were flashing in his head at the speed of lightning.

“Ow! Spencer, you’re hurting me.”

Spencer snapped back to the present, realizing his fingers were creating bruises on Y/N’s hips from his too tight grip.

“This isn’t working,” he said in way of an apology, pulling out of her.

He was already going soft anyway, the previous arousal now completely gone and replaced by his racing thoughts and memories.

“It’s fine,” she muttered, pulling down her t-shirt and pulling up her underwear.

He had just zipped up his suit pants—he’d come straight from the jet—when she spoke again.

“Actually, no. It’s not okay.”

Spencer blinked in surprise at her harsh tone. He didn’t think he’d ever heard her raise her voice.

“I’m sick of this Spencer! I know we started this a while ago for...reasons,” she flapped her hand in midair as if demonstrating all the unsaid things between them.

“But I can’t do it anymore. I care about you Spencer. Honestly right now I don’t know if it’s as more than a friend or just as a friend but that’s another can of worms to open another time. You can’t keep doing this! You can’t keep coming to me and fucking me to try and rid your demons. You’ve been through a hell of a lot and you didn’t deserve any of it, but I’m not going to stand her and watch my friend destroy himself because he refuses to get the help he so desperately needs.”

Spencer stood, frozen in place, mouth agape. It was then he saw tears shining in her eyes.

“We have a lot to sort out between us, eventually, but you need to help yourself first,” she whispered, as if feeling defeated by her previous outburst.

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he could say.

“I know facing everything, processing it all is a scary feeling, Spencer. Even if you tried reaching out to a friend to talk through it, that would be a big step. I just...I just want you to get better.”

A single tear slid down her cheek and he did the worst possible thing to do.

He fled her apartment like the coward he was.

•

He didn’t go home. 

Instead, he walked around the city as the daylight receded and the sun slipped behind the horizon, saying goodnight to the world until the next day.

He spent a lot of time thinking.

He ended up dashing into a busy diner he came across as the night sky opened up and rain began falling in sheets.

He sat in his booth, absentmindedly sipping on the cup of coffee he’d ordered and watched the rain fall in the darkness outside.

In an ironic way, the weather outside was similar to the turmoil he felt inside. 

Just like the completely blackened sky outside, he felt just as dark and empty. The storm was similar to the storm of emotions, memories, traumas he continually tried to squash, all in the wrong ways.

He knew ignoring his problems wouldn’t make them go away; he also knew using sex as a distraction was the worst possible thing to do as well, yet he’d continued to do it and he’d hurt more than just himself in the process.

He’d hurt his friends, who’d only wanted to help, but pushed them away. He’d hurt Y/N, who didn’t deserve to be treated like a plaything, yet he kept coming back, making things worse.

By the time he’d finished his coffee, he decided what he wanted to do. What he knew he needed to do.

I’m feeling pretty lonely baby,

So just let me in

Just let me in 

He’d ran through the pouring rain. He didn’t even bother to try to take any transportation. The rain felt like it was washing him clean from the horrors of the last year.

He was back at her door, but this time, for a different reason. 

He was soaking wet and felt a lot like a dog with his tail between his legs, but he refused to chicken out once again. So, he knocked.

She answered, this time in actual pajamas rather than the attire she was in hours before.

Maybe it was the expression he wore or something she saw in his face because she didn’t immediately slam the door in his face—something he knew he deserved. She stood patiently, almost questioningly, waiting for him to speak first.

He took a deep breath before speaking the words he should’ve uttered months ago.

“I’m ready to talk. I’m ready to get the help I need.”

TAG LIST: @dreatine @reid-187 @groovyreid  @iamburdened @cindywayne @sundippedprincess @missprettyboy @hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977 @haileymorelikestupid @lemonypink @teamkiall @redbullchick @ifeelloved @one-sweet-gubler @nanocoool @delightfullyspeedyearthquake @unsteadyimagines @ughitsbaby @inkwiet @pennythetechgoddess @capt-engr-ssa @sixx-sic-sixx @spencersdolore @alvezstan @disney-dreams-world @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore @andiebeaword @cupcake525 @be-the-bravest @gretaamyk @hopebaker @prisonreid @httpnxtt @daviddoughboy @pastathighs @marvels-gurl @blushingspencer @simp-for-mgg @victorzsaszmydaddy @inlovewithamess @im-inlovewith-mycar @xshakesqueerx @queenofmischief @mattgraygubler @gracelovesyouu @itsarayofsunshine​ @alexisparmentier @la-vie-en-amour1​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @saintd0lce​ @cherryxblossoms​ @jessaminelovelace​ @rainsong01​ @zhangyixingxing1​ @eforrester @kissessforharryyy @onlypsychosarepsychmajors​ @gublergirls​ @cielo1984 @reminiscing-writer