#Also I feel like meeting Shadow (since he and Team Dark really are allowed to be in that gray area of doing their own thing and not being

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

I still have a bigger post in the works but in case I don't get to this point anytime soon

I just wanted to say that ever since I first read Imposter Syndrome and the Overpowered arc of IDW Sonic I've felt in my bones that Surge and Kit's projected end point is not to "accept Sonic" and "become real heroes"

To me their story has always been about how the current system of good/heroes vs evil/villains has hurt them, how they don't fit into it and yet are being pulled in both directions by villains and heroes who want them to choose a side (theirs in specific), and how they'll find their place, home, and future living freely alongside each other

I cannot envision Surge happy working for hero attention and praise long term, a position that comes with strings and will inevitably restrict her

Surge has always wanted to do her own thing, Kit has known since Overpowered that being with her is the purpose he chooses.

And I don't believe we've really hit Surge's defining moment yet (where she finally finds her own purpose and is no longer jumping between potential ones). I think right now in idw Sonic we're still in a transitional period of learning and growing and experiencing, and that moment of realization is yet to come.

But perhaps that's just me.

[dailytatsu]

Hello! I love your writing and I recently saw a post of yours about the reader being the God Of Chaos and I was wondering if you could make a part two with characters of your choice, if it’s not that much of a trouble! Remember to drink water and rest well <3

Tysm! I’m really happy to see that a lot of you enjoyed it, and being honest, chaos reader now have a special place in my heart lol

Then let’s write a second part! Hope everyone likes these as well! ( ✌︎'. ')✌︎

Thanks for the request!✨

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[II - HC] God of Chaos! Reader & Genshin Characters

Characters: Bennett, Tartaglia, Scaramouche, Ganyu, Chongyun

Gn! Reader

Sorry for any mistakes!

Request are open!

Genshin Masterlist

<- First part

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BENNETT

First of all, how dare u

This boy already has a chaotic life for you to arrive and making it worse.

But being honest, it wasn’t intentional, just like always.

Besides he’s a kid. The chaos of a kid + chaos of his bad luck, I mean- how were you not supposed to meet him?

That day was really strange, for the very first time the chaos wasn’t attracted by you, but you were attracted to chaos. Like a moth following a lantern on the street, something that you felt like you had to do, some kind of childish curiosity that guide your way to find Bennett in the middle of his adventure.

Poor boy was charging his pyro attack to max until a barrel exploded near him, he flew in the air waiting for a rough landing before his trajectory sent him where you were standing, still looking for the origin of that uneasy sensation of curiosity.

Luckily for him you could see his shadow just in time to react. You looked up because of the strange silhouette on the ground next to you and there he was, surrounded by a cloud of smoke and fire, with his screams getting louder and louder as he falls.

You trapped him in your arms, with the situation turning even more strange when the first thing he said was “nice catch!” with the bright smile of his.

Like if his hair on fire wasn’t a big deal.

It’s raining men ig

Before you could ask anything, a crowd of angry hilichurls appeared from the same direction where Bennett came at first.

The white haired boy jumped off from your arms and tried to grasp your hand to run away together, but instead you pulled him near and then behind you before rising your hand to the front, pointing the stampede of furious creatures about to reach you both.

Not even a leaf fell from a tree before the hilichurls stopped, all of them felt your presence immediately, the primitive sensation of danger that meant a silent threat. Following the message that another camp of them told long ago, ‘get away from that stranger’.

Bennett was surprised, kind of scared at least. He wasn’t sure about how to call that feeling.

Are you a beast tamer?! Maybe an adventurer that discovered a secret about hilichurl’s behavior! Wait- where are you going? Don’t leave him behind, the doubt won’t let him sleep tonight!

You explained to him that it was dangerous for both to be near each other (more dangerous for him than for you), still you needed to get away. To protect Bennett and the other adventurers that were exploring nearby.

But why? He was so excited about meeting someone who could react that fast and precise! Like the heroes in the legends!

Please show him your ways, he’s begging you, how can you be rude to Bennett? That literally illegal.

When he heard that there was a God of Chaos exploring all over Teyvat like an errant he connected two points (even if there wasn’t a single thing to connect in first place).

You’re like him!

Hello ?? You’re literally ?? the most qualified to be part of Benny’s Adventure Team ??

Negative plus negative is positive, isn’t it? Maybe if you roam near Bennett his bad luck can collide with your chaos to neutralize each other!

You told him that you were leaving after that short conversation, but in reality you just hide from his sights and followed him from behind.

That kid really put you on your nerves, running into danger without knowing. Was that what Zhongli have to deal with every time you visit Liyue?

The old man really deserves an apology.

You’re not doing this an habit, of course not! You’re the all mighty God of Chaos, the ultimate troublemaker! How was even possible to think about wanting to protect a human just because he has bad luck? That’s ridic-

“Watch out!” You had to abandoned your hiding spot to reach Bennett again, pulling him away from the place where a bunch of hunter’s traps were. “Barbatos, why all your children have to be like this?…” You whispered for yourself, actually waiting for a answer, maybe a little too much because you didn’t free Bennett. His feet were just barely touching the ground.

“Oh, it’s you! Hello again!”

Enough of babysitting, that’s it, both of you are heading back to Mondstadt. This boy is a danger for himself, who allowed him to be an adventurer in first place?

After abandoned him in front of the city’s bridge you turn back to the forest, believing that it was the end, even if in the process your chaos took the life of some pigeons nearby.

Next morning you were sleeping peacefully on the branches of a huge old tree, feeling the wind of your bard friend greeting you from the distance.

Then a storm started out of nowhere; your fault.

And almost immediately you heard a cheerful voice below you, calling your name like a lost child searching for their parents.

As Bennett climbs the tree to talk with you a lightning strikes near enough to make both of you jump because of the surprise, falling from the branch and meeting each other on the mud below.

“Sorry, my bad.” Bennett and you said at the same time, to later laugh because of that.

It seems that both are more alike than you would expect

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TARTAGLIA

How do I explain that this guy already knew about you-

As you may suspect, yes, his only reason of wanting to meet you was to fight you.

The first step for taking the thrones of gods is beating one of the youngest, isn’t it? It would be a good start, and you’d be also one of the best opponents he ever fought! The only thing still needed was a way to make you accept his challenge.

Tartaglia’s first try was by attacking you without hesitation, not even a warning, just shooting an arrow for behind and waiting for you to counter. And yes, that didn’t go as planned, the rope of his bow snapped even before aiming.

It wouldn’t be that easy, the distance is always boring for a fight, why not just attacking directly?

Because you learned from Morax that you must not hurt mortals; the reason of your trip was for appreciate the human’s life, to understand why you exist, to have a reason to not end with everything that crosses your path.

To convince yourself that you’re not only destruction.

But it was hard to stay calm if he constantly provokes you to fight back. Always dodging, always running away, always breaking his weapons.

Barely holding yourself to not to break his Vision at this point.

Dodging one of his attacks again you ended up on top of a nearby structure by the side of the road, watching him from above and begging for him to stop for once.

Tartaglia clicked his tongue in annoyance, you would escape again. He was as sick as you of that senseless hunt. Maybe was the stress what impede him to think wisely, because his next strategy was like a death wish.

The water blades disappeared from his hands and, for the first time, he had a casual talk with you. Smiling and waving his hands to look relaxed.

Then he mentioned the incident with Osial, a event that almost became a tragedy. And the only reason you knew about that was because Morax told you about it, about his contract and the reason why he left his position as an Archon the next time you visited him.

It was your fault, isn’t it?

“… what?”

"As you heard! The conditions for summoning Osial was ideal, bringing back a sealed god filled with hatred and hungry for destruction couldn't have been possible if you hadn't been around Liyue that day.” His hand lifted to pointing at you, also smiling as your expression turned into a concerned one. “Oh, our God of Chaos, you were successfully satiated as the catastrophe filled the ocean! Bring us back the destruction, because it's the only thing you ever knew!”

He was obviously just mocking you, but still Tartaglia managed to actually make you think about it.

Your fault. Your chaos.

And even with that, Rex Lapis didn’t seal you or tried to eradicated you like the burden that you are for every nation.

It’s just a matter of time before you destroy all humane existence when you get bored of your fantasy of not being a spirit of chaos.

An infinity of negative and dark thoughts began to fill your mind.

It was sad, it was so sad that the erosion already began to have an effect on you being so young. You were afraid, you were concerned, the stress ate you inside while you tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t like he said.

Your mind collapsed, and you left the wrath take the control for the first time in centuries.

A fight? That’s all he wanted? Easy, that’s easy, just kill him and everything will end. His annoying voice won’t torment you ever again, his words won’t hurt ever again.

It’s easy, so easy. Mortal life is so easy to end.

He’ll defeat the gods, he’ll take their thrones and will witness the world’s end in the final battle he planned since his first encounter with the traveler.

But that day Tartaglia noticed the difference between your strength, it wasn’t huge, neither significant enough. But you were stronger, and it’s well known that wrath and despair can provide extra energy when it’s needed.

The perception of time disappeared, the world did too. Nature, men creation, everything will succumb against chaos, existence itself will be reduce to ashes.

That’s why you exist, to make sure there’s not too much heroes trying to make the nations a boring place. You just need to accept it!

But…

‘There’s no other way?’

The question sparkle inside your mind, bringing you back out of nowhere. There’s a lot of irregularities in the ground nearby, the land was broke for something that impacted with an inhuman strength, even the structure where you step on top was gone, just the remain of a building was left.

And your hands were holding something bland and soft, the warm sensation on your palms and the strange movements caught your attention to look down. Your hands were strangling Tartaglia.

From the other side his hands were trying to remove yours, his strength was minimal, not even able of closing his fingers around your wrist.

A expression full of pain and regretting of his decisions, question by question filling his mind while the air became harder to get.

A broken bow, his Vision has been thrown away. Now it was a human versus a god.

You took a step back, afraid of what you were about to do. You have to stay calm and quiet forever? To prevent catastrophe, to bring peace to mortals? Who’s the one you have to blame for creating you? How you could think that coexisting with humans was possible? Even if you say that you don’t want to make any problems you would stay near them.

“Just… leave me alone.”

Was the last thing you said, a whisper that wanted to apologize for a whole eternity, a regret that couldn’t be forgot. And then you left that place, escaping one last time.

But wait for him, Tartaglia thought, he didn’t need your compassion.

Sooner or later he would have his revenge.

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SCARAMOUCHE

Finally! With Shogun Raiden’s gnosis on his possession and the all mighty hero of Mondstadt weakened there’s no way things can go wrong for him!

A little delay in his plans, but still a smile remained on his face. Kunikuzushi couldn’t wish for anything else right now.

But you already know what is going to happen next.

In this world exist Murphy’s Law?, because anything that could go wrong went wrong after he claim for victory. Even being far away of the factory it seemed that the karma reached him immediately.

He just got his guard down for a couple seconds, and then, whoshh. Now you see it, now you don’t. The gnosis disappeared from his pocket, not here, not there. The annoyance filled his chest and then a irritated growl came from his throat.

What in the world happened?

Scaramouche looked to a huge tree in front of him, and there you were. On your favorite place to sit, above from everyone else in a branch. Holding the gnosis as the board piece it looks like, playing throwing it up a little and then catching it again and again.

Who you think you are to act that carefree on his presence? If you wanted to die so bad then you could just have asked for it.

Even if he called you and made a question first you counter it with another one, what was he doing with that thing?

You were sick of those who defy the gods thanks to his ‘workmate’.

Scaramouche ordered you to give him the gnosis back, threats and insults came out from his mouth as a distraction; in reality, he was just ready to set the first hit from behind.

But something made him stop just in time when you talked again.

“I don’t care what you are planning, but if it involves the ones who I’m in debt with, you will surely fail.”

“Another clairvoyant? Hah, your type are more words than an actual subject matter, but I have to admit it, they’re also very skill to escape.”

“It was a warning.” You said, throwing again the gnosis, this time to his direction.

Scaramouche reacted in time to rise his arms but in midair something caught the chess-like piece before his fingers. Surprising him again and making the irritation event more unbearable.

It was a tanuki. The same that looked behind a second before running even deeper in the forest.

The chaos isn’t necessary a huge disaster; a little accident, an inconvenient, a failure, it depends time and place to be considered like a catastrophe.

Scaramouche had a killer gaze just for you in his face, in respond you smiled at him, then covered your mouth with both hands to fake surprise.

“What a shame! Better luck next time, gods defier.” Your laugh could be heard all over the woods, like a spectral echo that chased him his way to get back the gnosis.

He got it back after a few minutes of a stressful walk through the forest, found the tanuki dancing on a stone before disappearing again. When he got closer he found that piece, making sure it was the real one and not just another trick.

The following days he received endless reports of Fatui soldiers and entire camps being reduced to rubble aside lost or destroyed materials; it was a higher level sabotage done by who they said was someone of relatively young appearance in strange clothes, the one that enjoyed staring at them until something goes wrong.

Nobody could defeat them, not even get closer. And with that, Scaramouche knew they were talking about you.

Was that what you meant with “warning”? Who are you exactly? Not even holding a Vision, how could you… ?

A quick order was enough to deliver him a book full of ancient legends, part of the Fatui private collection. Texts that were lost and the world had forgotten, his only hope was that you weren't exactly mortal, and if that was the case they could take advantage of your nature.

Hah, he found you.

God of Chaos, a body sculptured by the blood and bodies of the ones who died in middle of the wars. At first they were just a being full of anger and affinity for taking the life of every living being on earth, until the same hand that created them gave them a human heart of their own. Made without any prior basis, without being the remains of the deceased. Something one of a kind, the mortal heart of a god.

When human emotions filled the vessel they were released into the world, to mourn over the spilled blood and to know how everything of their existence originates. Born from the red that stained the fields and being the bud that seemed withered, the same that now has the deepest roots ever found.

Hmm, that brings back some memories…

But hey, that vital energy could be useful.

Don’t be surprised if one day you wake up chained and feeling dizzy as Scaramouche drains your life. You know what? Just wait for it! Running away as you did with that idiot won’t work this time.

Every possibility can be foreseen, every inconvenience can be solved. And if you think that you’re an exception then you’re stupider than you look.

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GANYU

Bold of you assume that Zhongli didn’t introduce you to everyone the first time you travel to Liyue.

The difference between your meeting was that it had to be really short. Ganyu is always busy so you couldn’t know her better before her duty called for her again.

Obviously you heard a lot of stories of her childhood thanks to Cloud Retainer. The day she knew about it Ganyu avoided you, next week she apologized with you about it. It was very rude, please pardon her.

Such a big sister vibes ngl

An Adeptus working that hard to human’s matters. It was so cool to follow her from a significant distance to see how was her routine.

If you could only live that peacefully near humans without causing any problem! What a dream! The envy was killing you.

Ganyu didn’t mind about you stalking her, the feeling of a companion was always present and she also knew that you had to keep some distance from everybody to not cause any accident. She appreciated your consideration.

Until a soldier from the millelith arrested you for harassment, wait- you’re innocent! Don’t get closer, hold on! Hold on!

The handcuffs broke almost immediately, though.

When Ganyu resolved the misunderstanding she hold your hands to apologize again, it had to be really stressful to be aware of any chaos you could create accidentally.

What if you… wait for her on the surroundings of the city?

Please, she have a lot of work, don’t interrupt her, she’s begging you.

Ganyu thought you heard her request, but she knew that you were just hiding when a window opened out of nowhere and a lot of documents flew away in the room.

You appeared hanging upside down from the other side of the window, jumped down and entered to pick up the documents. You hand her over all the pages and then you leave through the space on the wall.

“… I’ll be in Huaguang Stone Forest… ”

“Thank you.”

Even though you both agreed that you would return to the stone forest, she couldn't help but feel guilty as the hours passed, did you feel like a nuisance? Maybe she should apologize. Again.

When another successful day at work ended, she realized that repeating the same words over and over was not the best way to show her regret. That’s why a better idea formed in his head as she approached the abode of the rest of Adeptus.

Ganyu found you being scolded by Mountain Shaper for unintentionally releasing the trespassing intruders along with other creatures from their amber prisons.

After rescuing you again, she was able to propose her idea to you. With a calm and charming voice she asked you if you would like to learn about Liyue's traditions from the human perspective.

Sure, Zhongli could tell you about the beginning of traditions and festivities, but the way to celebrate them and pay tribute to the Adeptus was something that only a person who had lived among mortals for years could explain to you.

Your eyes shone in gratitude but no words really came out of your lips, kind of embarrassed you said some nonsensical things and then another amber cracked when you brushed its surface.

Mountain Shaper kicked you out without thinking twice.

But hey! The next day your classes on Culture from the Mortal Perspective began! A quick but calm walk through Liyue that got spread when a bunch of kids recognized you.

How could they not remember the person who plays with them every time they get a chance?

Ganyu sat by the side of the road on an empty bench, watching you scamper the children who seemed happy at your mere presence. Like the occasional accidents of a child, the curious and outlandish nature cannot be controlled, only accepted.

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CHONGYUN

Don’t move! The future best exorcist in the world, Chongyun, will put an end to your legacy of misdeeds and pranks! No evil specter that causes bad luck will survive to-!

Just by lightly tapping with your fingertips you were able to break the seal of the talismans that surrounded you out of nowhere. Pushing back the boy who was convinced that he had beaten his yang.

how dare u interrupt him.

Another of Xingqiu’s pranks? Isn’t this going a little to far? He hadn’t learn about not believing everything his friend says smh.

Let’s just mess with him a little.

‘Measure your words, human. In the presence of the God of Chaos, the first thought that should run through your mortal instinct is to beg for your life, since those who dare to defy them will be punished and displayed as a trophy in the infinity of the abyss from which the catastrophe came out.’

You took a few steps closer to him, while Chongyun kept backing away. The scene was so dramatic that you had to stop when the boy summoned his sword.

Haha jk, nice to meet u.

It's nice to know that there are still such dedicated exorcists out there.

But wait-, so you're not an evil spirit? A God? Why is there a god causing accidents all over Liyue!? That makes no sense! If you think you can deceive him by pretending to be a deity then he shall punish you severely for disrespecting them!

After a detailed explanation of your identity, Chongyun's mood plummeted again due to another failure as an exorcist.

He sat silently on a rock and remained silent, his expression showed so well his disappointed that it made you feel like it was your fault.

Ohno, a sad human child, your weakness-

At the end you sat next to him to listen to what he had to say.

Did he really want to see a spirit so badly? Those things are horrible, wearing strange clothes and yelling all the time, buagh! The thought of it gives you chills. But there's nothing you can do, after all they are drawn to your chaos.

When you finished talking so indifferently about what you lived through from day to day, you looked back at Chongyun, finding his expressive eyes filled with astonishment and disbelief.

Are you a magnet of evil? Chaos and destruction? Demons and spirits alike appear wherever you go?

Then you stopped him, it wasn't something to take so lightly; there’s also the chaos of the butterfly effect, natural disasters, unforeseen events, influencing the mood of evil people, losing your favorite pair of socks-

But you attract spirits, right!? You have to help him! How can you say ‘no’ to that face?

The next day he took you to one of his commissions as an exorcist, a house that had numerous reports from its previous tenants. He stayed outside and asked you to come in first, obviously you refused, if your chaos broke something inside you would have more problems besides the ghosts of the house.

He insisted a little more, it worked. Now you were waiting to feel the presence of some spirit trying to attack you. You could feel it, their energy was spread throughout the building, but still there was no movement. Neither hostility, neither terror, just the presence of a soul.

When it was Chongyun's turn to enter you explained this to him, his yang was also easy to perceive, you could describe it as a blizzard in the middle of the storm. But despite this, that presence didn’t react to his energy, nothing changed.

Then you understand it, your energies neutralized each other. Your chaos and his yang ended in a stalemate that went nowhere.

“I was really hoping to see an actual spirit and not only stay still in the middle of the entrance… “

“Well, I can still curse you. Want to try?” Chongyun crossed his arms, annoyed for your jokes.

“Maybe I should exorcize you instead… ”

“Ohh, so the little exorcist wants a deity to be his personal dummy? Let’s make a pact then. Promise me your soul.”

“I-I thought you said you weren’t actually a demon!”

When you stroked his hair he couldn't help but think about how much he still had to learn, so much so that even the gods were taking pity on him.

[callmeshakespurr]

Hey, if you're requests are open could you do a Rick Flag × Male Villian Reader (fluff) idk something cute where Rick Flag ends up falling in love with Male Reader, and the feeling is mutual. Idk you can fo what you want with it. ❤

Rick Flag x Male Reader

Requested: yes

Category: fluff, just a little bit of angst

Warnings: slight torture (?), i mention a knife like,, once

Note: I haven’t watched Suicide Squad in some time, so this could’ve turned out just the tiniest bit yandere, I hope you don’t mind! Also- I kinda struggled with this cause its my first time writing an actual one shot, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways (:

Tysm for requesting, hope you enjoy it <3

“Where is he?”, Amanda Waller called out as she walked down the hallway, towards the high security room you were currently kept in — Colonal Richard ‘Rick’ Flag not far behind her.

Her call grabbed the attention of the two guards, who stood in front of your cell.

“Is he in there?”, Amanda asked again, approaching the door with fast steps. One of the guards nodded and opened the thick metal door to let the director and the colonel in.

Amanda Waller had tried to get her hands on you for almost five years now, after you first made an apperiance in a club, killing two people. After that, several assassinations followed. Nobody knew who you exactly were, what you looked like, who you worked for; you were like a shadow — what people then came to call you, Shadow.

The major reason of why nobody could get a hold of you even in the slightest bit, was because you always vanished before anybody could even spot you.

After two years of not being able to catch you, the police gave up on further investigation in your cases. Amanda didn’t break so easily though. She wanted you in one of those cells she kept so many freaks in already, and she wasn’t going to give up until she had you sitting behind one of those metal doors, unable to escape her.

After all these years of going after you, she did manage to find out two major things about you. Why you always managed to escape without anyone catching a glimpse of you, and what your weakness was.

All these things led to the present situation.

You sat in a dark room, the only light source being a small lamp, dangling from the ceiling. Your ankles were tightly cuffed to the chair you were sitting on, on your wrists and neck you felt something cold and heavy, which seemed to send small electric shocks through your body every few seconds.

You weren’t sure where you exactly were, since you passed out before they got you. Hell, you didn’t even know who ‘they’ were.

You closed your eyes, trying to concentrate on your thoughts, which was not as easy as you hoped it would be. To say that you were in pain was an understatement. The electricity flowing through your body kept you from thinking straight, and send a wave of pure pain through your limbs with every shock you got.

A female voice ripped you from your trance, and you slowly opened your eyes again, head still hanging low. You knew that voice and you knew that you didn’t stand a chance anymore.

“Your powers won’t work anymore, unless i allow you to use them, so don’t even try.”, that voice belonged to none other than Amanda Waller, probably the only person on this planet you actually feared. You were never scared of what her minions could do to you, no. You were scared of what she could do to you if she ever managed to get you — which almost happened on several occasions.

You clenched your fists, trying to ignore the pain that came over you again, as you frantically tried to somehow sort your thoughts and find a way out of this, but nothing seemed to work. There was no way out of this. There was no escaping this. The feeling of helplessness washed over you, a feeling you didn’t like at all.

“You’re Y/N L/N, you’re a teleporter, thats how you managed to always vanish before the police got to the crime scene”, Amanda spoke, watching you as you sat there on the chair, staring at the ground, unable to move a single muscle. “It took me some time, but i managed to figure out how to block your powers”, she continued, taking slow steps towards you “Teleporters are extremely sensitive to electricity, some mightve even already died due to the constant pain if they were in your place.” She stopped right in front of you, looking down at your slumped figure, the only thing restraining you from falling over being the thick metallic handcuffs that kept your hands tied behind the chair.

Amanda grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at her. Your sight was blurry and it cost you a lot of strength to even keep your eyes open, but you did manage to make out the silhouette of a rather tall person standing at the entrance of the cell, watching the whole scene, before your focus was back on the woman in front of you. “You’re actually a very pretty boy, Y/N, and very smart too, it’s a shame that you decided to end up like this.”, she said, before letting your face go. “Rick, take him to get the injection, then get his things and introduce him to the team. After that, you can take him to his provided cell.”

The man standing at the door — Rick, you assumed — made his way towards you, as Waller left the room, leaving you to the colonel.

Rick helped you out of the cuffs, that kept you strapped to the chair. Looking at you, he almost felt bad, you looked so drained and helpless. He had never exactly agreed with anything Amanda Waller did, but seeing what just a few hours under her control did with you was another level of not agreeing with something she did.

“Can you stand?”, the colonel asked and you nodded, slowly rising from the chair. Your legs wobbled beneath your weight and you instinctively grabbed onto whats next to you, which just so happened to be Ricks Arm.

After making sure you had gathered enough strength, he began to walk with you towards the door.

time skip

It’s been a little over a week now since they’ve brought you here — you think. Every day was the same. Sitting on the cold floor of your cell, staring at the camera in the corner of your ceiling, some guard bringing you food, you not eating it, some guard taking it away again and reporting everything to someone, more staring at the camera, someone bringing you food again, you not eating it again, the guard taking it away again and reporting everything, all over again, everyday.

The only slightest bit good and entertaining thing was the colonel — Rick Flag, as you learned was his name — checking up on you every now and then when he didn’t have anything better to do. You didn’t quite understand why Rick was making efforts to look after you, just for you to not answer his questions anyways, but you appreciated it. It made everything a little more bearable.

Of course, you were one of the bad guys, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a life outside of assassinations.

When you weren’t working for other bad guys, you loved to just sit in your apartment and read, you loved to go onto high buildings and watch over the city. You dreamed of leaving everything behind and exploring the world someday. You worked at your favourite coffee shop, hell you even had a cat. The thought of your only friend being probably already dead or suffering made you sad, but what could you do about it?

Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t picked the path you were on, but looking back at the time you chose to work for the bad guys, you didn’t really have a choice.

Your train of thoughts was interrupted, when you heard the door to your cell open. Hoping it would be Rick, you looked up, your eyes only half open from the lack of strength you had. What you did not expect was to see Amanda Waller standing in front of you, Rick Flag behind her.

“Stand up”, the woman demanded. You listened, as it was of no use to resist her orders. You slowly got up on your feet, which didn’t last long, since you almost immediately fell over, landing painfully hard on your knees. To your suprise, Rick immediately rushed to your side, helping you stand up again.

“I don’t need him on missions like this”, Waller spoke as she watched you lean onto Rick for support. “Take him to the base, the council and I will be waiting there in the meeting room for him.” With that, Waller left again.

The way to the car wasn’t long, but with you almost not being able to stand on you own, let alone walk on your own, it took a little longer, which only fueled your anxiety. The ride to the base was even worse though, since nobody talked and you had five guards sitting around you.

Finally arriving at the door of the meeting room, which was located in the base, the two guards standing in front of it immediately opened the door as soon as they saw the colonel.

The room was quiet at an instance, when you stepped a food inside, Rick following very close behind you — just in case something should happen.

Amanda Waller stood in front of a group of suit wearing men who all sat at one big round table, most likely discussing something. She gestured you to come next to her, to which you complied.

“And who is this now, Director Waller? A new addition to your group of- freaks?”, asked one of the men as he looked you up and down, probably doubting that someone like you could be much of an good asset.

“This, Gentlemen,”, she grabbed your arm and moved you a little forward, making you almost tumble “is Y/N L/N or ‘Shadow’, he was an assassin for almost five years now, working for several other bad guys. Nobody got a hold of him till now due to his teleporting ability. He has over a hundred confirmed kills and not once did anyone ever get near him. I’m using these electric cuffs”, she grabbed your arm again and lifted it up to present the metal cuff, which was secured around your arm “to block his powers, which means he cannot teleport, as long as the electric shocks are on full power. As soon as I turn down the power a little, he can use his power, it is more draining and limited to a certain radius, but it works. I have him under full control and I want him on the team.” Murmurs broke out between the people in the room, as soon as she finished.

“I’m sorry, director, but do you really think it’s a good idea to put another- another misfit on that team? They’re bad guys and will always stay bad guys, and their freaky abilities make them even more dangerous.”, one of the men in suits spoke.

“As I said, I have him under full control, gentlemen. Let me demonstrate.”, Amanda spoke, turning to you, as the people sitting at the table sat back.

Waller took out some kind of remote and tapped on something. First your body tensed due to all the stress and pain you were under at the moment, but as soon as Amanda tapped on the remote, the electric shocks suddenly weren’t as intense as they were before, and your whole body relaxed, your eyes almost watering due to the wave of relief washing over you.

Rick was more than tense while watched the whole situation, only realizing in how much pain you actually were when Waller turned down the intensity of the electric shocks emmitting from the metallic cuffs you were wearing.

Waller looked you in the eyes with a serious expression on her face. “You disobey, you die, got that?” And suddenly you remembered the injection they gave you, when they first brought you here.

Seeing you had no other choice than obeying her, you simply gave her a small nod and looked around the room, taking in every detail. You looked at the small table in front of you, spotting a sharp knife, which you figured was put there by Amanda specifically for you in this exact situation.

With fast movements, you grabbed the knife and teleported to the other side of the room, holding the knife to one of the mens throat. Everyone in the room stiffened even more, and you heard at least three guns clicking.

Looking up, your eyes met Rick’s, before you looked over to Waller, who was already fixated on you. You slowly pressed the knife more against the man’s throat, wanting to see what Waller was going to do. The next electric shock came and you almost yelled out in pain, letting the knife fall, teleporting back to Waller and falling to your knees, clutching the metal around your neck.

Rick wanted to rush to help you, but was quickly held back by Amanda, gesturing him to wait.

“As you can see, I can control his powers however i want to, and should he disobey in any way, or should his powers bolt”, she tilted your head with her finger, than pressed onto the spot on your neck where they injected you, “he dies.”

Still staring at the ground, you swallowed harshly. You’ve never wanted to go back in time and undo all the bad things that happened so badly like in this specific moment. Maybe if you’re parents hadn’t ever found about your ability, you would still be at home, with your family, not here, being tortured by some government lady who wanted to use you as a weapon.

“There’s one more thing. I don’t need him on any mission in this shape. He needs to recover, quickly, and while doing so, I want him under Rick Flags complete supervision. It might cost a little more effort, but think about of how much use he will be for us”, Amanda said, a mischievous expression crossing her face for a few seconds, that going unnoticed by you and pretty much everyone else in the room.

time skip

Three whole months had passed. You’ve been staying with Rick ever since Amanda Waller announced that he had to fully supervise you.

The time you spent with Rick made you feel as if everything wasn’t so bad after all. Occasional talking here and there, Rick cooking something for the both of you every now and then, you almost felt normal again — weren’t there the electric cuffs reminding you of what was real every few minutes.

Over the past three months, your sleep only got worse. You got used to the constant pain by now, but the electricity didn’t only affect you physically, it also messed up your thoughts like hell. Sometimes you didn’t know where up and down was anymore, everything was all over the place inside your mind.

That was also the reason, you were up right now, in the middle of the night, sitting at the big window in your bedroom, looking over the city. You hugged your knees tightly to your chest, and rested you chin on them, letting a few tears slip. You hadn’t cried in a long time, but you were just so exhausted. You were never this close to giving up than right now. Nothing seemed to ever be okay again, you couldn’t do anything but accept your fate.

Being to entangled in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear your bedroom door open.

It didn’t take Rick a long time to spot you in your place at the window. He just came home from a mission that Amanda Waller had wanted you on, but Rick insisted on giving you a little more time to deal with everything.

The tall man closed the door as quietly as he could behind him, which seemed to not be quiet enough, since you jumped slightly at the noise, quickly standing up and turning around. Rick gave you an apologetic look, before slowly walking towards you, “I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked, I just wanted to check up on you and see if you’re alright-“ “It’s fine, I’m fine”, you interrupted him, wiping your tears quickly, taking a deep breath.

Rick frowned, he had never seen you cry before. He cared too much for you and he knew it, he just couldn’t help himself. Stopping in front of you, he looked down at you, only for his eyes to meet yours. For a moment, you both got lost in each others eyes, before you ripped your gaze away, looking to the side.

“Do you want anything else from me?”, you asked shakily, getting a little nervous with his burning stare on you.

“I actually do, yes-“, he hesitated for a moment. You looked up at him with a questioning expression. “Close your eyes”, you complied, closing your eyes slightly, one hand moving to hold onto Rick’s shirt so you didn’t lose your balance. You felt him lean down slightly, till you could fell his warm breath on your cheek. You surpressed a shiver, as he carefully tilted your head.

Now, you didn’t really know what to expect; you and Rick had gotten closer but you weren’t sure, if there were actual romantic feelings, or if he just pitied you, so a kiss wasn’t exactly what you expected. But you definitely would’ve expected it more than what happened next.

A small ‘click’ echoed through the dark room, the next thing you knew was, that all the pain suddenly disappeared. Your eyes watered when you felt Rick’s fingers carefully removing the heavy metallic cuffs around your wrists and neco, pure relief washing over you. Your leaned your body onto Rick’s, unable to support your own weight for a few moments.

When you had finally gained control over your own body again, you moved back a few centimetres and looked up to Rick, who met your confused eyes. “I couldn’t bear to see you in so much pain any longer, so I triedmy best to convince her and I’d say I’m lucky that she trusts me with you.”, the colonel smiled a little, raising a hand to softly carress your cheek. Your eyes widened. He quickly removed his hand again and apologized, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Rick took a step back, still being careful so you didn’t lose balance again, “I should go, and you should sleep, you need to be well rested and-“

You were fast to interrupt him by taking a quick step towards him, getting a little on your tiptoes, before pressing a small kiss to Rick’s lips. You carefully looked him in the eyes again, “I don’t know either, but it just felt like the right thing to do.”

It took the man a few seconds to process what just happened, but when he did, he was quick to kiss you again, his soft lips over yours, moving slowly, as you kissed back. He put his hands on your waist, while you locked yours behind his neck. You kissed for a few moments, before the both of you had to breathe again. “Thank you”, you whispered against Rick’s lips, before receiving another small peck. “Sleep with me tonight?”, he asked quietly, getting lost in your eyes again. You gave him a small nod, allowing him to pick you up and carry you to his room, both of you smiling as you fell onto the mattress.

[izusun]

OKAY THE BRAINWORMS HAVE BEEN RATTLING IN MY MIND SO APPLY THIS TO ANY AND EVERY AU EVER-

Dekubowl. That's it, that's the post.

No but in the beginning it's the entire class realizing they all like Izuku and fighting each other for his attention (especially the more possessive ones like Katsuki and Shouto)

But then they see him do something absolutely insane and reckless and the class collectively realizes 'holy shit keeping him alive is gonna be a group effort'

And that's how the class changed from 'competing for Izuku's affection' to 'tag teaming to ensure that Izuku is properly healthy and also spoiled to all hell'

Iida and Momo run meetings where the class plan out schedules to make sure everyone gets an equal amount of time with Izuku in half-dates half-babysitting-duty

Izuku has no idea these meetings are happening or that he now has about nineteen/twenty girlfriends and boyfriends until Kaminari finally points it out and he has a crisis.

"I'm not that bad, am I?"

"Deku, if I hadn't known you since the day you were fucking born, I would've been convinced your quirk was a villain magnet."

GOBLIN!!! (according to other ask saying this is u) THANK U SM FOR THIS DEKUBOWL IDEA!!!

i love me some loving deku hours!! and i’ve been pushing the underground “deku fanclub” ran by uraraka for so so long so this one feeds my tiny soul

ok but imagine the creation of the deku fanclub:

it all starts with kirishima and bakugou’s first interaction about midoriya.

kirishima and bakugou are long friends already, hanging out and having fun, but one of the pros of being friends with bakugou was kirishima seeing midoriya in different settings outside of being his gym partner and school work and stuff. he sees midoriya in a different light and thinks, i wanna be more than bros with mido.

so he tells bakugou, asks him if he has a chance or if bakugou would grant him his blessings to ask midoriya out, but, well, bakugou likes midoriya too.

“shitty hair i like him too what the fuck,” bakugou says, tired because he knew.

even if kirishima didn’t realize his feelings yet, bakugou could clearly see it and recognize the shine in kirishima’s eyes is the same as the shine in bakugou’s own eyes, both caused by their nerd.

and kirishima’s like “ohhh shit ok bro.” so they create this bro code of not asking midoriya out yet and if they really want to, to tell each other for transparency’s sake.

well their bro code doesn’t last because todoroki comes along with sero.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” bakugou says as they’re all gathered in todoroki’s room.

“hey man, no need to be angry because have you seen him? walking adonis if i know my greek mythology that well,” sero replies back.

bakugou introduces the bro code which they both agree but, again, it doesn’t last long because iida, uraraka, and asui come along.

“we have to stop meeting in icyhot’s room,” bakugou hisses, squeezed between both todoroki and kirishima, “why the fuck are you two even in the boys’ dorms?”

“i heard the ugly bro code from todoroki and i think we need to think bigger. the fact that you guys think that suppressing your feelings is healthy is to both you all and deku-kun is crazy. so we’re here to propose a better way,” uraraka chirps in reply, smiling prettily as though iida’s hulk of a mass isn’t squishing her to todoroki’s wall.

so uraraka officially calls them the deku fanclub.

the purposes:

allowing all simping for midoriya (this includes trying to impress him or spoil him)

support group especially for todoroki (who doesn’t know what love is really so they’re helping him get to terms with the actual emotion) and iida (who is too embarrassed to admit that he has feelings for his best friend and often can’t function in normal setting anymore)

the group gradually increases because kaminari, tokoyami, aoyama, and jirou realize that they want to be part of the deku fanclub. tokoyami swears he’s not in love but the way dark shadow exposes him during their meetings, of course, disproves him.

eventually all of 1a (except midoriya) becomes a part of the deku fanclub.

with both momo and uraraka organizing the official deku fanclub, plus iida finally getting over his embarrassment, the club officially rolls.

the rules change and get scrapped, but everything officially changes after the school festival when they learn that midoriya’s ambushed by gentle criminal and la brava.

they met up in the common rooms this time, especially careful because according to tokoyami, sometimes midoriya wakes up in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water.

“he was just trying to get apples. APPLES,” mina hisses, eyes wide in both wonder and worry.

“who even allowed him to go out alone?” shoji asks.

“hey maybe that should be a rule. always go with midoriya.”

“but isn’t that too constricting, ojiro-kun?”

“fuck you’re right.”

so everyone silently explodes in a flurry of trying to discuss which would be more helpful for midoriya. it takes them 30 minutes to gather themselves and from then on, iida and momo finalize the club’s rules.

deku fanclub rules (the essentials):

1. never tell deku (midoriya izuku, sunshine ball, the nerd, etc.) about the existence of this club

2. the founder of the club cannot run as one of the presidents (bakugou, the founder, tried fighting this rule but was beaten by both uraraka and momo. currently, the presidents are uraraka, momo, and iida.)

3. the club members are divided into three groups, under one of the three presidents, to help coordinate everyone.

4. unless it’s on schedule, no one should interrupt each other’s time with midoriya

5. whatever midoriya says, goes

6. if midoriya’s going out BY HIMSELF, ask him if you can assist him

7. never tell all might about “deku fanclub” because he can’t hide a secret from midoriya

8. midoriya likes dark shadow – this doesn’t add up with tokoyami’s time so no one complain!

[crack-whore-who-fuckedup-already]

The Man Needs His Cat

Bucky x fem!reader

Word count: 1,960

Warnings: mentions of animal death, fluff, Tony/Bucky interaction

Summary: Bucky and Reader stumble across a kitten in the woods and Reader is tasked with asking Tony for a huge favor. 

A/N: y'all- I'm head over heels in love with catperson!Bucky

The situation had to be dealt with carefully, (Y/n) knew. She didn't want to come on too strong or he'd be quick to turn her down. Maybe a hypothetical would be the best course of action... She took a breath and pulled her shoulders back. Then, with only a second of hesitation, she entered Tony's lab. 

He greeted her from his hunched over position at one of the many cluttered tables, barely sparing her a glance. In the heat of engineering, he worked on some odd piece of tech he had yet to fully present to the team. She echoed a small 'hello' back and rocked awkwardly back and forth on her feet. 

Still not looking up, Tony indulged the girl with idle conversation. They spoke of their day, of current world news, of the weather. That's how he knew she wanted something. The girl would always engage him in casual conversation just before asking a favor. Tony didn't mind much, of course. If anything, he found it entertaining how intently she tried buttering him up. But today he had quite a bit of work to get done so he wanted to get this show on the road. 

Putting his tools down, he looked at her pointedly with a knowing grin. "Alright kid, what's up?" He asked.

(Y/s)'s eyebrows raised in question, playing dumb. "What do you-" 

"Drop the act, (Y/n)," he chuckled, and grabbed an already greasy rag off the desk next to him to wipe his hands. He stood and made his way to her, tossing the rag back on one of the several tables in the lab. "I know when you want something, so just go on. Ask." He said, his face light with a smirk.

(Y/n) flushed with warmth, embarrassed by his boldness. But she continued anyway, determined to fulfill her promise to Bucky. 

The night before, she and Bucky were on their way home from the movies. It was a beautiful night out and in their comfortable silence, they found themselves on a slight detour through the woods. At some point, Bucky had pulled over off the side of the road and onto a look out.

Bucky, ever the silent communicator, simply stared at (Y/s) confused face with the softest smile on his own, before stepping out of the car. While (Y/n) scrambled to open her door, Bucky walked the couple of feet towards a barrier fence overlooking the river beneath him. His eyes followed the shine of the water as it drowned the boulders lining the river bed. He thought for a second how exciting the challenge of rock hopping sounded, never really having gotten the chance to as a child.

The call of an owl pulled his attention to the tree line which he observed with such intensity that (Y/n) nudging his arm made him tense. She flashed him a smile to calm the surprise on his face and in an instant, his arm was around her, pulling her close. They both looked out at the shadowed woods and (Y/n) was even sure to point out the moon and stars themselves. 

In the silent moments that passed, they both had turned to embrace each other wholly. They stayed like that for a moment and then Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead. Pulling back to look at his warm, loving face, she found acute concern instead. He was glancing just past her head, off into the bush leading down to the river bank. 

"What's the mat-" she asked quietly, shrinking away. 

Bucky pressed his fingers to his lips and hushed her quickly and gently and then slowly gestured to his ear. Listen, he was telling her. 

She didn't hear anything at first. Nothing but the rush of the river below them and the gentle night breeze above them.

But then, just as she was about to ask again, she heard it. The faintest of mewling. Barely audible but definitely there. 

Bucky grasped her shoulders and looked her in the eyes once more before he squeezed them tightly and moved past her. He approached the thicket and hesitated for only a second before pressing forward. The branches hurt his skin but he'd suffered worse.

(Y/n) tentatively called his name to which he responded "I've almost got it." His voice sounded distant and strained and it worried (Y/n) that she could no longer see him through the darkness, being so close to the river and all. But as long as she could hear his grunts of discomfort from the branches whacking him in the face, she remained calm enough. 

Eventually, he emerged. Even in the dark, (Y/n) could see the pure white fluff sticking out between Bucky's fingers. As he approached, the fuzz ball revealed its face from its careful hiding spot in the crook of Bucky's arm and glanced around. Two dark eyes and the palest little nose swung in her direction, its whiskers twitching with cautious curiosity.

A kitten.

The poor thing was trembling but so was Bucky. Placing a hand on his forearm, she beckoned his attention and spoke low.

"What was it?"

To bide his time, he shifted the kit closer to his chest and took a deep breath. He didn't meet her eyes but he mumbled just loud enough to hear.

"A whole box of them but…." He didn't dare finish the sentence and instead held the kitten in front of his face, ignoring the unwarranted feeling of loss he felt for its siblings. Swallowing hard, he finally met the girls soft, understanding eyes and smiled sadly. 

Before she could say anything, the small creature let out another indignant mewl that seemed to reassure Bucky just a bit. With that, (Y/n) moved to his side and slung her arm around his waist.

"Alpine," he mumbled.

"What's that?"

"I think I'll call him Alpine." Bucky said fondly. His eyes never left the baby and the girl knew he was in deep.

"Oooh, I know that look." She tittered. Bucky only stared, his eyebrow creased, questioning. "That's the way you look at someone you love. That's the way you look at me." She said with a blush, nudging him lightly.

His face melted into that soft loving one she cared for so dearly. The kitten settled into the warmth that embraced him as the couple kissed.

"Let's get a move on. It's getting colder and colder by the second and I'm sure this little guy agrees." The kitten mewled one last time.

With a light chuckle, they spared one last glance over the look out before returning to the car where Alpine slept peacefully in Bucky’s lap the whole way home.

The two couldn't help but discuss what they were going to do with little Alpine. Bucky was set on keeping it and had even decided to clear his schedule the next day to make a vet visit. The only issue was their living space. They weren't too sure how Tony would react to them bringing a cat in off the street. But the girl could see how much the kitten meant to Bucky already so she promised to talk to Tony in the morning. 

Well, morning came and now here she was.

Tony crossed his arms impatiently. "Well?" He pressed, tilting his head up.

(Y/n) anxiously grasped her hands in front of her and leaned forward a bit. "What would you say to the idea of us getting a pet?" She stared openly at his face as he stared back at hers. The question bounced around in Tony's head, leaving his eyebrow slightly creased and the room painfully quiet. (Y/s)' nervously raised eyebrow gave him a clue into the situation.

"Right….and who exactly is this 'us' you're referring to? Cause something tells me I'm actually being iced out of this decision." Before she could even get a full breath in, he continued on. "All right, what are we working with, huh? A rabbit? A goldfish? If it's a parakeet, it won't even get past the front door, so help me god." 

The girl shook her head as she let out a laugh. She could tell he wasn't overly fond of the idea. It was clear by the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. But judging by the way his voice didn't fall completely flat, he wasn't opposed to it either….not entirely, anyway.

"No, no. Not quite. It's a cat. A kitten, actually, so there's still time to train it and all," She reassured him. "And Bucky should be getting home any minute from the vet with him if you'd like to say hello."

Tony caught himself before he let his expression drop at the name of the elusive ex soldier. He'd gotten better at watching himself since the two of them moved in. Bucky and (Y/n) weren't together when they did, but being only a few steps down the hallway certainly allowed them a closer relationship.

Tony nodded his head reluctantly and dropped his arms to his sides. 

He followed the girl down the various halls as she recounted how they found the poor kit, and found themselves approaching the common room. Or the family room, as (Y/n) preferred to call it, while simultaneously prattling on about how much time and energy the team wastes pretending to hate each other. Huh.

They could hear the tinkling of a bell being wacked around from down the hallway. As they entered the room, they stopped in the archway and took in the sight before them. 

Bucky sat crisscrossed with his back to them. In his hand was a feather wand, standing out bright purple, blue, and white against the dark brown floor. In front of him, white fluff darted back and forth. There was the smallest sound of tearing as its tiny claws ripped against the carpet, no doubt leaving it frayed.

Tony tried his very best to suppress his dissatisfied grumble...

They watched for a bit as Bucky went back and forth with the kitten. Tony didn't have to look hard at all to see how much the ex soldier cared for the tiny thing. No only because of his undivided attention towards the cat but also because of the many beige bags labeled "PetsPlus+"  full of toys, treats and towers scattered around the sofas. 

He thought it might be good for Bucky to have another companion around. Maybe it would help him relax. Maybe even lighten up a bit.

Tony stepped forward.

"So, uh, I'm not a big fan of funky smells so that's got to be top priority as far as pest control goes with this thing, alright?"

Bucky jumped to his feet and Alpine followed suit, hackles raised. Bucky quickly scooped him up and held him close. "Of course." (Y/n) made her way over to them. "Our rooms are big enough to keep him there most of the time and we have already worked out all the responsibilities between us. We've got it covered."

Tony stepped back a bit looking them up and down, humming. "I expect weekly visits in the family room," he said pointedly, then waved his hand. "Keep it tidy, folks." And with that he left the couple to their new fascination.

Tony lingered at the doorway on the way out. While the couple was distracted, he found himself watching that wretched arm. The dark, intimidating metal turned soft and gentle as it reached out fearlessly to antagonize the tiniest, weakest thing in the room. No hesitation, no fear. Not in Bucky or the kitten. Tony knew then that it stayed, no question.

The man needed his cat. And damn it, he'll get it.

[emerald-chaos]

Insomnia

*gif not made by me, credit goes to the owner*

Hi Everyone! So it's been probably like...10 years since I wrote my last fic lol. Watching TFATWS has rekindled my undying love for Bucky Barnes and I just couldn't help but start writing again. I had to get my feelings out! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've been considering writing some more parts...so tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! I appreciate any and all constructive feedback or just feedback in general! Much love.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2533 (lowkey popped off...oops)

Warnings: Just in case...vague allusions to a dark past, struggles with mental illness, explicit language, and some suggestive conversation. Oh and some really bad jokes lol. Fluffy and angsty.

No matter how much you tossed and turned, how many sheep you counted, or how much you prayed and pleaded to any higher power that would listen – the release of sleep just wasn’t going to happen. You’re not sure why you were surprised, it’s not like this was the first time. You let out a heavy sigh and toss off the covers. This has been a nightly occurrence for as long as you can remember. When you were trying to rest, when there was no noise to block out the images in your head, it was a battle. A battle which you have always lost.

You flip on the bright florescent lights of the bathroom as you trudge in, dragging your feet in exhaustion. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the harshness of the light as you place your hands onto the countertop. The cool marble feels good against your palms as you close your eyes and lean your head back, another sigh leaving your lips. You twist your neck from side to side, trying to release some tension and maybe get a satisfying pop. No such luck. As you open your eyes and gaze upon the person staring back at you a small laugh tumbles from your chest.

Jesus, she looks awful.

The dark circles that permanently reside below your eyes appear more pronounced than usual. The corners of your mouth hang low and you just look…tired. Like you were rode hard and put away wet.

The bottle of melatonin tucked away on your counter catches your eye. You pick it up and twirl it as you inspect the writing. “Sleep Support” you read, “may help promote restful sleep”. What a load of shit. You place the bottle back down and inspect the orange one next to it. The pills inside were about as useful as the melatonin. Nothing seemed to quiet the voices or stop the scenarios that plagued your mind. You splash some cold water on your face and grab for a towel to pat it dry. Your eyes drift to the mirror again, as if though the water was going to wash away the dead look in your eyes.

Yeah, fat chance.

Before you know it, your legs are carrying you through the compound. The only sounds present are the whirring of various appliances and the soft patter of your feet against the tile floors. The moonlight casts shadows over the various pieces of furniture and lights your path. Your fingers curl around the handle as you pull the sliding glass door open. The crisp outside air kisses your skin as you step out and close the door behind you. You find yourself settling down in your usual spot on the balcony and you sink into the comfort of the chair.

Many a sleepless night has been spent out here, admiring the way the moonlight gleams off of a nearby pond. Before the compound and the balcony, it was a fire escape and a bottle of bourbon. You kind of missed that coping mechanism a little bit. You were thankful, of course, to call this place your home. Thankful to feel safe for once. Thankful to be a part of a team that felt like more of a family than any sorry piece of shit who had been in your life before. Not that you were bitter about that or anything. A little baggage builds character. However, life hasn’t always been kind to you and your stupid brain had a cruel way of constantly reminding you of that fact.

In all honesty, Tony rescued you. You absolutely hated to allow him to relish in that fact, but it was true. He took a chance on a royally fucked up kid out of college who managed to skate by and earn a mechanical engineering degree. If you were to ask him, he would say it was because the first words you said to him were fuck off. Apparently, something about that translated to, “hey, I would be a great addition to your tech and development team”. Although, you were pretty sure you just really meant that he should fuck off. I mean, the guy’s reputation does have a bit of moral gray area to it. Somehow, some way, your tenacity made an impression on the billionaire. Now here you were - living at the Avenger’s compound, sitting on a balcony at 3:30 in the morning because you couldn’t turn your brain off long enough to find some peace and sleep. What a life.

Even as you were sitting here in your special spot, reminiscing about some actual good memories – your brain still tried to drift into the darkness. Glass breaking; voices, thick with hate, engaged in a screaming match, and the cold nights spent trying to find a safe space to eat and lay your head. Your fingers gripped into the arms of the chair as you felt the heaviness in your chest increase.

“God damn it,” you cursed through gritted teeth.

The panic attacks were a second nature at this point, but you still really hated when you lost control. Your eyes closed tight as you tried to rack your brain to remember the bullshit your therapist had told you earlier in the week. Something about 5 things you can see?

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Doll”

The voice ripped you from inside your mind and back to reality. Your eyes opened and were met with a beautiful pair of cerulean ones. You blamed the skip in your heartbeat on your fading panic attack - although, you knew better than that.

“Well, it seems to me that the only logical conclusion is that you’re stalking me, Barnes” you quipped as a grin spread across your face.

“Could say the same about you,” Bucky retorted as he sank into the chair beside you, “besides, been doin’ this a lot longer than you’ve been around”.

You rolled your eyes, but the super soldier had a point. Almost each and every time, aside from the ones that happened when the team was away, you two would meet like this – here on the balcony, both searching for something to replace the sleep that neither of you could find.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re old” a laugh fell from your lips as Bucky snorted at your remark, a grin remaining ever present on his lips.

The familiar silence took over as he leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. Meanwhile, yours were hungrily taking him in - tracing over the stubble on his chin, the soft pinkness of his parted lips. Recently he’d gotten his hair cut and even though you much preferred the long hair, you would rather die than actually admit that to him. Your crush on the 106 year old grumpy ass was one of your best kept secrets. At least, you thought you’d kept it from being painfully obvious.

The man sitting before you, he had a tough exterior and a horrific history, but you knew him better than that. You knew about the way his nose scrunched up when you made him laugh and the way his eyes looked as he listened intently to every story you ever told him. You knew the sweet melody of his laugh and the far off stare that meant he was also held captive by his own thoughts. This late-night rendezvous had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite part of the day.

The first time it was a short nod and typical white person, thin-lipped smile as you left to find a different spot to suffer alone. Shortly after, it developed into cohabiting the balcony – staying on your own separate sides of course, only occasionally sharing words. Then, before you knew it, the two of you would be sitting beside each other, shooting the shit like you’d known each other for years. Just two, incredibly fucked up individuals, trying to make each other feel a little more human.

Bucky had always given off the quiet, brooding energy. Typically he kept to himself, other than with close friends like Steve, choosing to stand in the corner and listen to the conversation rather than be a part of it. Occasionally he would give a quip during a meeting that would catch people off guard, but mostly he just sat there and stared. The Bucky you had come to know was nothing like the person that others wanted to make him out to be. Sure, at one point he was a masterful assassin who killed like he got pleasure from it – but that wasn’t him. The Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes were not synonymous.

If only the world could meet Bucky at 3am.

“What’s going on in that empty head of yours over there?” Bucky’s voice once again brought you back to reality as you laid your eyes on the familiar grin plastered across his face.

“Please,” you huffed, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink at the thought of him catching you staring, “which one of us has a college degree again?”

His laugh was a symphony to your ears. Your smile mirrored his when he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“So, what is it tonight? That nightmare again?” he asked, voice dropping an octave as his facial features softened in a way you really hoped only you got to see.

“Mm, not quite” you responded, your voice a broken whisper.

Bucky wasn’t the type to pry, but with you he wouldn’t even have to. Talking to him, sharing your deepest secrets and fears, telling him about the nightmares that kept you awake at night – it all came easily. Too easily.

“This week it’s...it’s that image of my stupid mother. Standing there with her black eyes and busted lip, telling me that it was me that was the problem. That it was me who...” you swallowed hard, the heaviness creeping back into your chest and tears fighting to wet your eyes. God you hated that you let this get the best of you.

Just as your mind started to bring you back to that dark place it was interrupted by the feeling of warmth spreading over your body. You looked down to see Bucky’s large hand resting right above your knee. When your eyes met again, he gave you a soft look that made your heart scream.

“I’m sorry,” you could tell he meant it as he gave your knee a soft squeeze.

A small smile flashed over your face and you had to resist the urge to reach out and cup his soft, stubbled cheek in your hand.

“Hey, we’re all a little fucked up, right?” you joked.

“Some more than others,” he replied, those beautiful wrinkles appearing around his nose as he scrunched it up with another laugh.

“Thanks, Buck... I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything other than listening to my sob story,” you reluctantly broke eye contact and looked down at the hem of your shirt as you fiddled with it in your fingers.

You were all too aware at the loss of contact as Bucky drew his hand back and leaned back into his chair.

“Doll,” he started as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again - you could swear you almost saw a grin on his lips, “there are very few things I’d rather do than sit with you on the balcony at 3am”.

At that moment it felt as though time stood still. Sure, you had flirtatious banter back and forth occasionally and made a habit out of spilling your deepest regrets to each other during the wee hours of the morning, but this felt different. This felt like a confession.

You’d be lying to yourself if you tried to convince yourself, or anyone else for that matter, that you didn’t have a thing for him. I mean - who wouldn’t? The guy was a gentleman; he was soft spoken and caring, he was a dork who loved to crack jokes at the most inappropriate times, the type of person who would give you the shirt off of his own back if it meant you were taken care of.

He....well, he was Bucky.

And god damn it if you didn’t love him.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but one minute you’re sitting on your chair, chewing your lip and droning on about the man in front of you in your head. The next minute you found yourself on his lap, knees seated on either side of his waist as your legs straddle him and your hands connect with the skin they so desperately craved to feel. Bucky’s eyes opened slowly and met yours as you let the pad of your thumb gently run along the curve of his bottom lip. The uneven breaths leaving your chest hitched as you felt his hands grip your hips softly. Refusing to break eye contact, Bucky gently pressed a kiss to the pad of your thumb. You dragged his lower lip down briefly.

“Well,” he began. His voice was barely above a whisper but it’s thick, lustful tone made you shiver from head to...well, you know, “are you gonna kiss me, Doll? Or do I have to do all the work myself?”

He barely finished his sentence before your lips captured his. It was messy, almost all teeth and tongue. It was needy, as if it was the last time either of you would ever kiss anyone again. It was fucking incredible.

Bucky’s metal arm snaked up your back and found its way into your hair, curling his fingers gently around the strands at the back of your head, as his other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his form. He was intoxicating. This whole situation was something you had briefly imagined months ago, but ultimately pushed out of your mind. There was no way that he would ever be interested in someone like you. Yet, here he was, tongue fighting for entrance into your mouth.

You aren’t quite sure who pulled away first. Both of you were gasping for air, chests heaving up and down as you both stared into each other's lust-blown pupils.

“You kiss pretty well for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since 1940,” you teased, laughing as he rolls his eyes at the comment.

“You just don’t know when to shut that mouth of yours, do ya?” he practically growled, ever so slightly tightening his grip on your waist, and you almost lost it from just the sound of his voice alone.

“Why don’t you make me, Barnes?” you leaned in close, warm breath fanning over the shell of his ear.

A yelp escaped your throat as you were suddenly jerked up to a standing position, locking your ankles behind his back as he effortlessly held you up by your thighs.

“Oh Doll,” he chuckled darkly into your neck, almost making you pass out from the sensation, “I thought you’d never ask”.

[herorps]

shadow and bone and racism

shadow and bone just came out so i can now finally break my silence bc holy shit do they go ham on the racism and me being me, i just have to tell you all about it. possible spoilers and triggers for anti-asian racism and microaggressions.

to preface, i was very privileged to receive a screener for the entire first season last month and i was actually excited to watch it bc i have friends who love the books and the show piqued my interest since it was announced. and i also have to say that i never read the books and i probably never will ( tho i’ve been told i would like soc ) but i did like the show overall. 

i think sab is a good adaptation and that the fans will like this show. i thoroughly enjoyed it and as someone who had very little to almost no knowledge about the books, i didn’t have trouble keeping up with the fantastical world. 

however that doesn’t mean i can’t be critical of it. 

i think the show can actually benefit from people being critical about it because so far, it feels like they took a very tone deaf direction and ran a marathon with it. 

what i’m talking about, is alina starkov being half-shu. 

now, i said before that my interest was piqued for this show when it was announced and one of the major reasons is the casting of biracial actress, jessie mei li, in the role of alina starkov. i can’t tell you how happy i was to see that a half-chinese actress was cast as the lead in a series based on such a beloved ip, especially since the creators of the show consciously changed alina’s ethnicity to be half-shu before casting calls were even sent out. ( for those of you who are also non-book readers, shu is the race of people from the country, shu han, and is based off primarily mongolian and chinese cultures ) 

so i was endeared with the idea that this character, that is coded white, was deliberately changed to be coded asian ( and coded mixed race to boot ) because the producers wanted to include diversity into the show. i commend that, i love that, i support that. but i believe the way they handled it, shouldn’t have been the way they handled it. and it’s because alina’s race is constantly brought up. 

obviously of course race is going to be brought up at some point. alina in the show is surrounded by white people when we first see her, and her home country of ravka does have a hostile history with shu han----i get it. racism is going to play a part in alina’s story. but it doesn’t necessarily need to go so far as to constantly remind the audience that she is shu in almost every interaction she has with someone she meets. 

and that’s a big part of the issue, is that nearly everyone she meets will bring up the fact that she’s part-shu. and a lot of the time, it’s said with hostility. now i’m not exactly sure if i’m just being particularly sensitive because of certain recent events, but the anti-asian racism hits differently these days. idk. 

because that’s what it is, at the end of the day. it’s racism. alina is often the target of very hostile racism and it seems to mainly be directed at her character and her character only. 

and honestly, on a surface level it makes sense, i sort of understand what the producers are trying to do. ravka has a turbulent history with shu han and were involved in wars with them and they’re often seen as the enemy so obviously that would affect a shu-mixed person growing up in ravka, a very white country. but on a deeper level, it reminds me a lot of the anti-japanese sentiments during wwii. the production team even created a banner that i felt called back to those anti-japanese propaganda of that era. ( mind you it was shown multiple times, in main focus, and acknowledged by characters that were coded shu ) 

but on the other hand, they’ve done a considerable job to diversify at least the ethnic makeup of ravka. there are black and brown grisha at the school and there are people of different cultures ( noted by costuming, etc. ) in ketterdam and there’s even a shu-appearing trainer that teaches the grisha to fight. so my question is, why is this very hostile treatment primarily geared toward shu people and geared toward alina specifically? it just doesn’t make sense to me. 

and when i say it’s specifically geared toward alina, i mean that it’s very apparent that they’re targeting her specifically, because mal  ( played by a possibly mixed-race archie renaux ) is also coded to be of mixed shu blood. while it is not explicitly stated that mal is shu, it is heavily implied that he is mixed, but he is never subject to the treatment that alina is, and the only times he is subject to racism is when alina is also present. in scenes where we see alina and mal as kids, they are often both referred to as “mutts” or “half-breeds”. but when they are older, only alina is continuously called those things. 

this isn’t even touching the microaggressions she faces after she’s at grisha school and this one line that made my gut wrench so viscerally i had to pause the episode and replay the part so i could confirm what i heard. [ episode 3 spoiler warning ] i’m trying to avoid posting screenshots or from spoiling parts of the show but there’s a scene where alina is being cleaned up and made presentable by servants and one of them says “I’d start by making her eyes less Shu.” [ end episode 3 spoiler ] i don’t think i have to explain to anyone how offensive that is. and i understand that the intention was to show how racist this servant is, that the entire point of of this weird racism plot is to show how the people of ravka can be racist and ignorant, but to have that line be written by a white writer, approved by a white showrunner and said by a white character to the face of an asian actor/character feels very tactless. it feels like another antagonist alina has to go against is racism itself. 

what also turns me off about this scene is that jessie mei li revealed that this scene is what actresses had to audition with. “...the sides that they sent for the audition, like Alina is talking to Genya and they’re talking about her eyes and they’re talking about her Shu ancestry.” having actresses of mixed-asian ancestry come in and act out that scene for white producers doesn’t really sit right with me. and i know that there’s an argument to be had about how it’s important to show the minutia of what it’s like to be ethnic in a world ruled by white supremacy and that it’s important to show how alina’s race affects her story, but i don’t think that going this far is necessary to the development of plot or character. 

and i don’t personally know jml, i don’t know how she feels about the show apart from what she’s probably briefed to talk about in interviews, but it is perfectly valid for me to feel iffy about the microaggressions while she feels that it’s necessary for character development ( again, this is just an example, i have no clue what she thinks of the racism ). our experiences are different, our upbringings are different, but we’re both happy to see representation and i’m happy that she’s happy to see an actual mixed-chinese character on screen as the lead. 

i’m glad that the producers were open to diversity and were open to making the lead a person of color, but it’s things like the treatment of shu characters and exchanges like “Tell her...Oh, I don’t know...good morning.” “I don’t actually speak Shu.” and “I didn’t know the Zemeni had such talent.” “She’s Suli.”  ( zemeni is a race of “dark-skinned” people and suli are coded south asian/mena/wena so this exchange is just white people mixing the brown people up )  that remind me the majority of the writers and producers are white. 

now i’m not saying that you should boycott the show or that this show is the most problematic thing to ever grace my retinas, because i really enjoyed watching it and i want to see what season 2 has in store ( more crows content please ). but, i want you all to please keep all of this in mind when you watch the series and think critically of what kinds of unconscious biases these producers had. you’re allowed to have nuanced opinions, you’re allowed to be critical of the media you enjoy so long as you understand where some people’s criticisms are coming from---where my criticisms are coming from. i just hope in future seasons the treatment of alina gets better and that she actually learns to love her shu side because otherwise it’s just going to be problematic as the show continues. 

[the--sad--hatter]

Steam - Chapter 1 (Loki x Reader)

Warnings - Loki, Smut, Violence & Gore, Swearing, Death, Angst, Dark Humour, Crack Humour, Shenanigan’s, Mutual Pining

Pairing - Loki X Reader (Slow Burn Romance), Enemies to Frenemies to Idiots in Love

Reader Description - Female, No physical descriptions, Only referred to by nicknames & Petnames (No use of Y/N)

Description/Blurb -

“So how’d you get the firepower? What’s your origin story?” Stark asked, peering at you curiously.

“Uh, this is my origin story…” You winced, sighing when he motioned for you to elaborate, “I got these powers about three days ago.”

It’s a tale as old as time, boy meets girl, boy tries to invade girls mind, girl sets boy on fire, boy turns into angry blue boy, they become sworn enemies.

When you suddenly become imbued with a power you have no idea how to control, Nick Fury picks you up and dumps you on The Avengers doorstep, deciding that they are best people to turn you from a wacky novice into a force to be reckoned with.

The power burning inside you has the potential to make you a hero, or destroy you completely, but your new fire based abilities are more than they appear, and in a stroke of spectacularly bad luck, The God of Mischief is the most qualified teacher to mentor you. With Loki guiding you, will you ever learn to control your power? Will you ever make it as an Avenger? Or will you crash and burn?

Only one thing is absolutely certain, when fire and ice collide, things are bound to get… steamy!

Chapter One - Ice Breaker

It was every bit as imposing as you’d imagined it would be, not that you’d ever imagined seeing it under these circumstances.

 “Are you coming?” Fury barked at you, breaking you out of your slack-jawed awe.

 You snapped your mouth closed and tore your eyes away from the legendary tower, looking at the doors where Fury was impatiently waiting for you.

 “Coming!” You squeaked, scurrying over to him, “It’s just when you said you were taking me somewhere where I could safely learn to control my powers, I was sort of picturing an underground bunker in the desert, not the freaking Avengers Tower!”

 “I utilise the assets I have, why would I send you away when I have a team of perfectly capable super-powered individuals?” He asked wryly, leading you across the lobby and straight past the security teams who did nothing to stop you both as you made your way into an elevator.

 “I’m just saying, a heads up would have been nice.” You muttered petulantly, crossing your arms over your chest and tucking your hands out of sight.

 You felt him look at you and studiously refused to meet his eye, staring instead at the numbers above the door as you were carried all the way to the top of the Tower.

 “Heads up, you’re meeting The Avengers.” He shot back.

You could say what you liked about the former director of Shield, he was true to his word, because the elevator doors wooshed open to reveal a waiting crowd of Avengers, all of them staring at the man next to you with varying levels of annoyance and/or distrust. You diligently pattered after Fury as he stepped forward to greet them, looking around the room reverently.

 The first person you laid eyes on was Tony Stark, Iron Man; the billionaire who had kicked off the modern age of hero’s, and next to him, Captain America, the first of the first, the OG Superhero. Stood behind the Captain was Sam Wilson, the Falcon and a personal favourite of yours, side by side with Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier and poster-child for taking back control of your own fate. Clint Barton aka Hawkeye and the deadliest marksman in the world stood to the side with the Black Widow, deadliest person in the world full stop. In the back of the room two other figures were hanging back, emitting two very different aura’s. Doctor Bruce Banner eyed Fury with trepadition, and well-placed mistrust.

 It was the last person in the room that the majority of your attention was reserved for, the tall, imposing god who skulked in the shadows. Contempt and boredom radiated from him, and you couldn’t safely say it was directed purely at Fury. He was also the only one who spared you more than a cursory glance, and you slowed to a stop as you found yourself trapped in his curious gaze. You stared back, trying to reconcile the villain who once tried to subjugate the planet with the one you were locking eyes with. It had been months since he had joined the Avengers, but it never stopped being strange to see him standing with them whenever you watched footage of them taking on whatever bad guy of the week they were battling. However, he had been fully cleared of any wrongdoing in the battle of New York, apparently he had been mind-controlled. As to why he was helping the Avengers, nobody really knew.  

 Someone cleared their throat loudly and you forced yourself to look away from the stupendously tall god, glancing around the room to see that you now had all eyes watching you expectantly. Apparently you’d zoned out for the introductions.

 “’Sup?” You offered, waving in Tony Starks general direction.

 “So you’re Fury’s fiery friend, what has that got to do with us?” Stark sighed.

 “What, you think he bothered to explain his reasoning to me before dragging my ass up here?” You scoffed.

 “She’s here because she has abilities, abilities that she is more likely to learn to handle among similarly gifted people.” Fury explained in a tone that brokered no argument.

 Naturally, The Avengers argued.

 “We don’t have anybody with fire abilities.” You heard Natasha Romanoff point out, just before you took the opportunity to zone out again.

 You were absolutely certain that nobody cared very much what your opinion on the matter was, thankfully. You weren’t sure you had an opinion on the matter. It wasn’t like you had a lot of experience with these kinds of issues, and as far as you were away there wasn’t some superhero academy that you could enrol yourself in. Besides, you were much more interested in re-instating your staring competition with the god of Mischief.

 In the brief time you’d been distracted, he’d stepped away from the shadows and moved closer to you, staring at you with his arms crossed.

 You resisted the urge to inhale deeply, who knew ex-murderous gods would smell so nice? You looked up, and then up again.

 “How tall are you?” You asked incredulously.

 His gaze flickered down at you impassively, while you stared back and tried to mentally calculate his height.

 “I’m a Frost Giant.” He stated coldly.

 “Oh in that case, you’re kinda short.” You scoffed.

 You were flooded with immediate remorse but it was drowned out by amusement.

 “I beg your pardon?” He demanded, uncrossing his arms and stepping into your personal space.

 “Down boy.” Iron Man sniggered, stepping between you. “So how’d you get the firepower? What’s your origin story?” Stark asked, peering at you curiously.

 “Uh, this is my origin story…” You winced, sighing when he motioned for you to elaborate, “I got these powers about three days ago.”

 “So you’re a baby.” He stated matter-of-factly.

 “If I say yes does that mean I can just sit on the floor and cry until someone picks me up and holds me?” You asked, fully willing to give it a go.

 It had been three days since your life had literally gone up in flames, three days of pinning your arms at your sides, afraid to close your eyes, afraid to let your guard down for even a split second, afraid to allow yourself to feel even an iota of emotion.

 “So how did it happen?” The Captain asked firmly, getting the conversation back on track before you could find out if anyone would volunteer a hug.

 “I, well, I kind of…” You trailed off and looked at Fury for help, but he just stared back at you, the bastard.

 All eyes were on you as they waited for you to explain, nobody offering any kind of help. You exhaled forcefully and slumped your shoulders, tucking your chin so you didn’t have to look at them anymore.

 “I ate a bomb.” You whispered.

 There was a very long beat of silence before it was broken by several voices all at once.

 “I’m sorry, what?” Stark demanded.

 “What did it taste like?” The archer wondered, looking at you almost giddily.

 “She didn’t eat a bomb.” Fury finally stepped in to clarify, “She absorbed the blast, after failing to defuse it.”

 “Why was a civilian defusing a bomb in the first place?” Captain Rogers asked sharply, glancing at you in concern before turning back to Fury with a hard expression.

 “I’m not a civilian, I’m actually an Agent.” You reasoned.

 “She’s an Agent-In-Training.” Fury rebutted. “It was her first mission in the field.”

 “Baby.” Stark reiterated, faking a cough and smirking at you when you scowled at him.

 That was true, and you still didn’t think it was entirely your fault that the bomb had gone off. Yes you’d failed to diffuse it, but you were supposed to be watching the perimeter when you’d stumbled across the explosive device. It had less than thirty seconds on the clock, and you’d stupidly chosen to spend those seconds trying to stop it detonating instead of running away.

 “And you put her on bomb duty? Were you trying to get her blown up?” The Black Widow demanded, and you almost laughed until you saw the serious expression on her face.

 “There wasn’t supposed to be a bomb there, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Fury shrugged, like it was inconsequential.

 To him it probably was.

 “She is still in the room, and I was exactly where you told me to be, when you told me to be there. If your intel was bad, that’s on you Mr Superspy.” You snapped.

 “Oh I see it now!” Stark briskly announced, “You’re trying to pawn her off on us because she’s too sassy for you.”

 “Precisely.” Fury admitted, surprisingly.

 “In the words of shortstack over there,” You hissed, gesturing at Loki “I beg your pardon?”

 “You don’t have the temperance to be an Agent.” Fury told you blankly, not bothering to soften the blow by at least telling you this in private instead of in front of the world greatest heroes.

 “I’d take that as a compliment.” Stark assured you.

 “You’re telling me I’m fired? Literally. Because I got blown up, through no fault of my own?” You huffed, clenching your firsts in an effort to keep your emotions from manifesting in a fiery inferno of rage.

 “Because you choose to try and handle a bomb you had no training to handle, instead of pursuing the target.” Fury amended, unphased by your distress.

 You bit back your retort because you knew it wouldn’t matter to him in the slightest. You couldn’t reason with him, couldn’t explain that you had made the choice not to pursue the target who’d planted the bomb, because you had to try and stop it exploding in a building filled with innocent people. Maybe Fury was right after all. Maybe you weren’t suited to being an Agent, because an Agent would have known that they couldn’t stop the bomb but they could stop the bomber. They would have let a hundred innocent people die and stopped the killer from killing a thousand more the next time. You weren’t an Agent because you’d chosen to die trying to save the hundred, and trusted in Fury and Hill to take down the Bomber.

 Of course, that wasn’t what had happened, and in the end nobody had died.

 “None of this explains how you ‘ate’ the bomb.” Clint Barton pointed out, and it was a good observation.

 “That’s because we don’t have an explanation. She went through the standard medical tests in her training, and all her bloodwork and scans indicated she was fully human. She walked into that building as a human being, and walked back out after absorbing a bomb, as who the hell knows what.”

 “So you’ve never done anything like this before?” Dr Banner asked you, speaking directly to you for the first time.

 “Not even remotely. I mean my eyes water when I eat chilli.” You shrugged.

 “Fascinating.” Banner muttered. “Inhuman?” He asked, turning to Stark.

 “Unlikely, she would have probably noticed going through Terragenesis.” Stark responded. “Mutant?” He shot back.

 “No, the mutant gene would have shown up in testing.” Dr Banner sighed, looking you over with a scientifically calculating eye. “Can you explain what happened in more detail?”

 “Sure, bomb went boom, I went AHHHHHH, and then it was all bright and hot and then the boom went away.” You told them.

 “So how do we know that it was you? What if something else contained the blast?” Someone asked, and you looked around before you finally realised it was Sam Wilson who had spoken.

 “No, it was… it definitely me.” You sighed.

 “How do you know?” Bucky Barnes interjected, backing up the Falcons line of questioning.

 That was the million dollar question. How could you be sure that you had anything to do with the bomb, that you had been imbued with fire power?

 “During the post-mission de-brief, there was an incident.” You alluded, side-eying Fury and taking a not-so-subtle step away from him.

 “Please tell me you tried to set him on fire?” Barton asked giddily, looking between you and your former boss.

 When Fury levelled you with a glare and you developed a sudden vested in the ceiling, the Archer sniggered joyfully. You chanced a look around the room and saw that Barton wasn’t the only one exhibiting mirth at the idea of Fury being set ablaze by your.. well, your fury.

 “He was yelling at me!” You defended, taking yet another step back when his glare intensified.

 “You’re lucky you had no aim and only managed to set fire to the table.” He snapped.

 “I think you were the lucky one.” Stark sniggered at Fury.

 “Do you want her or not?” Fury sighed.

 “Do I get a say in this?” You objected.

 “No.” Fury, Stark, Romanoff, and Loki said in unison.

 “I can run some tests to figure out what happened to you, if it’s reversible.” Banner offered comfortingly. “With your permission of course.”

 “I’m gonna go stand over there with him.” You huffed, making a beeline for the doctor and awkwardly hiding behind him.

 “Yeah, we’ll take her, should be an interesting riddle to solve.” Stark shrugged.

 Captain Rogers and his buddies glanced at you before appearing to have a silent conversation.

 “She can stay here while Stark and Banner figure out what happened, and we can go from there.” The Captain finally decided.

 “We’ll take good care of her.” Loki added with a charming smile.

 His eyes said something completely different, and you had a sick feeling that you were going to be made to pay for your short jokes.

 “Glad I meet your approval; I was worried I was going to fall short.” You sarked, immediately resisting the urge to punch yourself in the face.

 “Approval has nothing to do with it. Of all The Avengers, who do you think will be responsible for testing your abilities? You would do well to remember that I am more than mischief and lies, I am the god of chaos and fire.” He warned you cockily, visibly delighting in the way your grin faltered.

 You shot a pleading look around the room, but nobody was refuting Loki’s claim. In fact, they were nodding thoughtfully, or in Stark’s case; shrugging apologetically at you. You turned back to Loki, ignoring the deep sense of foreboding in your stomach.

 “Well Fe-Fi-Fo-Fuck.”

I have been trying to get back into writing for so long, and this is my last attempt. If this doesn’t work then I am out of ideas. 

I know this is a boring start but I have been re-working and rewriting it for days and I can’t improve it. If you enjoyed any part of this, please do tell me! If you didn’t, then tell me that as well. Just give me any feedback at all, I’d appreciate it so so so so so much. 

For those of you unaware (especially on AO3), I haven’t been writing for a while because my estranged mother passed away and it brought up issues that needed to be dealt with, but all that is over with now. Thank you to everyone who sent supportive messages and was patient with me ❤

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[twistedmusings]

Vil Schoenheit: After RSA’S Performance

The first time he had been left speechless was because of you.

You who always knew what to say, you who always had an answer to the problem at hand.

Where were you?

A/N: What is formatting. I don’t even know.

But listen though. When did Vil get hot? I mean he has always been hot but is it now because he is sad boy? A rude boy turned sad boy? Is that why I am attracted to him now and was compelled to write this?

I don’t know but I’m in love so I’m going to run with it.

This is how Vil would react if MC looked like they were enjoying RSA’s performance.

Part 2, here!

What Vil felt couldn’t really be put into words.

His grades would say that he was one of the highest ranking students in the Language Arts for Night Raven College. Not just in regular human speech but also in fairy-dialect, animal dialect and any sort of dialect that Professor Trein would demand. Vil also excelled in prose, poetry and abstract writing.

Being left speechless was not something that was supposed to happen, not twice in a row.

The tightening of his throat would speak otherwise, as well as the sudden feeling of vertigo.

Vil could barely hear Kalim through the jovial sound of Neige’s voice, the one thing that had kept him awake for these past few weeks--no these past few years. When was the last time that he had felt so helpless? Was it when he had first met him? Neige, with his bright smile and lovable personality that made people overlook his mistakes, his very obvious mistakes. The way he wouldn’t go when it was his cue, or how Neige would forget almost every other line only to finally have the script memorized by the time it was opening night.

A children’s song.

“What even is this song! The chorus just won’t leave my head!”

He wasn’t even ready during dress rehearsal, Neige would wait until fucking opening night.

Was it dramatic to say that the whole event had haunted him? As well as the domino effect of undeserved fame that Neige had gotten afterwards?

No, to Vil, being overshadowed by this person despite all the effort that he put into each and everyone of his performances was something akin to being shot by a gun.

Over and over and over.

He had been beaten by a children’s song.

Every single commercial, every music video, every promotion and every product placement that Neige did was like a dagger carving him up from the inside out.

So when the VDC presented itself, he jumped at the chance to not just shape himself into the perfect being to defeat Neige, but to shape others to show that not only could he surpass himself but he could help others break through their own ‘ugly’ exteriors to discover their own personal beauty. And by all means he had done it, he had taken five rough and ugly rocks and turned them into polished jewels.

Polished jewels that framed the diamond he had worked so hard to turn himself into.

His grip on the audience seat loosens when something flashes through his mind.

The practices had been rather arduous, not only having to make sure that he was flawless but trying to deal with Epel’s stupid gender based ideas, Ace and Deuce’s lack of grace and even Kalim’s really really terrible singing voice. Yet something had made it even a little bit worth it.

Someone, he needed to correct himself, someone had made it a bit worth it.

The sixth potato that he had hoped to start shaping after this whole thing was over.

What could he say about you? At first glance you were truly nothing special. An uneventful, magicless person from an equally uneventful place that hadn’t even been accepted into this school but was instead made a student because of the monster next to you. You weren’t even a student, more like a glorified problem solver for the Headmaster. Ideally, Vil should have also hated your guts since you were essentially getting the same education that he had been getting when he was a first year but without any effort but there was something different about you that he had not expected.

I think you’re probably the fairest out of everyone in the school.

A small glimmer of something beautiful.

But in the end your opinion is the one that will matter to you.

You were honest. That is something that Rook had mentioned about you once he did his recon of the new manager for the VDC team. How the Ramshackle prefect really didn’t have anything to offer but that the quality that stood out the most to the hunter was your refreshing honesty.

He had modeled for crowds of adoring fans and yet he found himself pulling out his pocket mirror and fixing non-existent imperfections before talking to you. Yet even when he tried to make himself look presentable to you, you always seemed to catch him when all of his walls were down.

“You should have seen the information that I got from Riddle, Leona, and Azul. They have really gotten a reputation behind them, the Ramshackle prefect. I wonder what will happen if we keep them close~”

Vil wouldn’t admit it to anyone but there had been a brief moment that his heart skipped a beat when the news about how the VDC team would be rooming in Ramshackle. He figured it had skipped out of beat due to the horrific news that he would have to room in a dorm that had not been used for who knows how long but when he had come inside and been greeted by your smile, it was almost surreal how he had come to terms with this feeling of nervousness.

The night before the VDC had found Vil in the Ramshackle lounge, a cup of tea in his hand as he watched a video of that day’s performance. There were still minor imperfections here and there but those would be easily covered up by his own singing and movements. Epel had also improved exponentially which highly increased the probability of a successful performance and with Jami’s hypnotizing movements and Rook’s aura there was no doubt that he had this competition under his heel.

But nerves like these didn’t leave overnight.

A creak on the stairs brought him back to the present, taking a sip of his tea as he continued to look at the video.

“If you’re here to ask me about why I am awake at this hour, Rook, I would like to remind you that you insisted we review the performance in the morning which already did nothing to calm my nerves--”

"Vil-senpai?"

His head snapped up to look at you , the light of the moon masking him in shadows while illuminating you as you made your way down the staircase. He clicked his tongue and turned off his phone.

"Was I interrupting something?"

Vil shook his head, “Last minute detail check. Everything has to be perfect by tomorrow.”

You nod and walk towards him, standing next to the couch before pointing to it. Vil looked at you before looking at the seat next to him. What were you--oh. He nodded and you sat down on the other side of the love seat, both of you farther apart that he would have liked.

“Does the manager have anything they want to say to me?”

“It just gets me thinking. You have been doing this performance perfectly in my eyes. Over and over again that it makes me wonder just what you think is lacking.”

You bring your feet up to the seat, hugging your knees together as you look down at the floor, “Maybe your definition of perfect and my definition of perfect are so different.”

The Pomefiore dorm leader rolls his eyes, “Did your Heartslabyul friends put you up to this?”

“Ace and Deuce? Great Sevens no. If they did I would have rightfully ignored them and gone to bed. I’m just your manager, I’m not here to negotiate.”

“Just a manager.” Vil frowns and looks at you, “You understand that you are currently housing the Vil Schoenheit as well as six other people who happen to be under my temporary tutelage. If you and your dorm weren’t around I would have had to keep those two Heartslabyul potatoes in the Pomefiore dorm and I don’t think I could stand letting them sleep in one of our beds. Our dorm has standards, luckily yours is the most neutral place I can stand being around those two without losing sleep.”

He blinks at the snort you let out, staring as you wave your hands and apologize while trying to prevent another one from surfacing.

“That is the only straightforward compliment my dorm has received. Neutral.” you laugh again before wiping a fake tear from your eyes, “Am I allowed to take it as a compliment?”

Vil is glad for the darkness, it hid the sudden flush in his cheeks.

“Take it as you will.”

You nod and stand up, stretching and letting out a satisfied sigh when your back made a small cracking noise that had Vil clutching at his cup. Anybody else and he would have walked out of whatever conversation he was having, so why did he find that tolerable with you?

“Then let me pay it back.” you hold out your hand and for a brief moment Vil wants to take it. Clearly that was an invitation for something and it alarmed him that he didn’t mind the mystery behind it. Yet your finger pointed at the cup, Vil looking down and seeing it was empty.

Oh.

He hands it to you, doing his best to make it so that your fingers would brush in the most accidental way possible.

“In my own opinion, as well as the opinion of others, I think you are the fairest out of everyone in the school.”

The air in Vil’s lungs gets caught in his throat.

“No joke. The way you carry yourself, the effort you put into everything you are a part of. Even the potato comments are almost...endearing? Potato plants produce rather pretty flowers, right? Maybe you are just trying to get the flowers inside of us to bloom as well?”

He is staring.

He is staring and not saying anything. You had left him without speech.

“But in the end your opinion will be the one that matters most to you. I just hope that it will always be positive.” you scratch the back of your head and yawn, “I’m going to grab a glass of water and head back to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Your eyes are still meeting his as a small flush adorned your cheeks, probably embarrassed by what you had just said. Or he would like to think you would be embarrassed, if this was any regular love story he would stand up and grab your wrist and keep you from running away from him before cupping your face and leaning in--

“Good night, Vil-senpai.”

"Goodnight."

You who always knew what to say, you who always had an answer to the problem at hand.

Where were you?

His eyes start looking around for your figure, hands itching and brain running slower than it ever had before. Maybe you would make it better? No, you would make it better. You would go over to him and smile before saying that the competition hadn’t even started and just because that song seemed to be moving everyone under a stupid nostalgia spell, Vil’s hardwork would shine through. Neige hadn’t taken everything from him, not just yet.

Vil feels the weight on his shoulders lessen when he looks at you only for it to double when he sees your face.

You were smiling, humming along to the silly melody as your head bobbed up and down.

Even in practice your gaze remained fixed on them, yet with Neige you seemed to feel that infectious, annoying melody and enjoying it?

“What’s wrong? You look pale.”

Had he lost you as well?

“Vil...Vil?”

The first time he had been left speechless was because of you.

“...Nothing. Don’t worry.” he turns his back to Rook, “It’s not worth seeing their performance. I will be in the waiting room.”

Vil walks away, so many thoughts clouding his head as he replays the words you had said to him.

Who the hell cared about his opinion when yours was just as important?

[scarecrow-supremacy]

A/N: Oookieee, so I decided to start writing a new fic bc I have great ideas for a story line. Yet I can’t bring myself I writing an actual beginning. Like I’ve already written some random chapters, but I can’t do anything with them because they don’t really make much sense without the context of the rest of the fic/my ideas. Like this chapters is where the romance/actual x reader gets into actual action. Hopefully you get the gist of what the plot is, and aren’t confused as hell from this part. Sorry if it’s a bit long, it’s around 4.8k-ish words. Enjoy 💜

Hatake Kakashi wasn't one to celebrate his birthday.

He simply thought that they were foolish excuses to let loose and party. To Kakashi, birthdays were no reason to be happy and celebrate. They were just reminders of how long he had endured the pain of living. Each year marked another without the people he once held close in his heart. His father, his sensei, his teammates, and (y/n)...

The day that (y/n) gone on that horrible mission was his special day. The mission he was supposed to go on, but (y/n) filled in for because she wanted him to go celebrate with Gai and the others. So much for having the day of joy...Kakashi thought to himself mournfully.

With a great sigh, he grabbed the last of his belonging, shoving them in his mission pack. He'd promised to take his students out of a group mission for the day, but it had been mostly for selfish reasons. Kakashi had hoped that this would take his mind off of the weight in his soul, yet knowing that his efforts would be futile. The loss would never leave him, it would always follow him like a darned shadow. It would forever haunt him. There was not letting go of the horrors of his past.

Slowly, Kakashi strolled to the gates of Konoha to meet his kids, shoving his hands in his pockets as he mumbled a little tune under his breath. The dark cloudy sky and drizzling rain seemed to mirror how he felt inside.

Drip, drop. Drop, drop. Drop, drop.

Each raindrop fell upon the dirt paths of the town, dampening Kakashi's Jonin uniform. If only he'd gone on that mission, if only he hadn't let (y/n) take his place. If only so many things that happened hadn't. If only he felt whole again. He could feel the heavyweight of guilt on his shoulders, spreading pain throughout his body. Sure, Team 7 filled the void, but they could only do so much. If there is one thing I wish for, it is that these kids will grow up to be happy.

A soft smile played upon Kakashi's face as he approached the three teens. "KAKASHI-SENSEI!" His hyperactive blonde student, Uzumaki Naruto, yelled at him, "YOU'RE LATE-TTEBAYO!" He raised his fist in anger. Sakura glared at both Kakashi and Naruto, slapping the boy's back to calm him down. Off to the side stood Sasuke, his hands in his pockets as he briefly kicked the dirt and pebbles around him to form his clan's symbol. "Usuratonkachi," he grumbled at the group. To be honest, Kakashi did feel a little guilty about keeping the kids waiting for him. They were being held back just because he was wallowing in self-pity. And Kakashi felt ashamed of that; ordering his mind to push his thoughts further to the back of his mind.

Kotetsu and Izumo, guards of the gates, turned to the team and smiled in greeting. "The gate opening mechanism is broken, so we have to manually open the gates," they explained. "Heading out yet again, eh?" Kotetsu chuckled. "I thought you lot just came back from a mission. Ya leaving so soon?" Izumo asked. Naruto pumped his hand into the air, "Yeah! Dattebayo! It's only a C rank, but it'll be fun-ttebayo!"

He's a lot like you, eh Obito, Kakashi's mind wandered as he looked up at the clouded sky, a drop of rain fell upon his nose and slid down his mask. If only you, Minato-sensei, and Rin were here to see us in action. You would be proud.

But what about (y/n)? Part of Kakashi was surprised that he didn't think of her immediately. Did he still believe that she could've been alive? After the Hokage had told him that he'd lost contact with (y/n), Kakashi didn't know what to think. It had been 3,650 days since she left. 3,589 since she was supposed to come back. And 3,529 days since they fully lost contact. What were the chances she'd come back, alive or injured? Kakashi wanted to believe that she was still alive. Was that realistic?

"She's gone, Kakashi! You need to understand that!" He flashed back to when Asuma, Gai, and Kurenai had tried to slap some sense into him. Well actually, Kurenai had slapped him. "Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura gently tugged his sleeve, straining her arm up so her red umbrella would also cover his head. "Are you okay? You've been spacing out a lot lately." She whispered as she looked up at him.

"I'm fine, Rin," Kakashi weakly smiled, "It's nothing that you should worry about." Sakura flashed him a questioning look, "Rin?" Sucking the air, Kakashi's whole body tensed up, "Sorry." He looked away, turning his attention to the bickering Sasuke and Naruto. "Just a little mix-up, Sakura." He put on a fake smile, breaking up the boy's fight. "Let's go, shall we?"

"Alright! Shanaroo!"

"Dattebayo!"

Kotetsu and Izumo went to open the gates but stopped to exchange worrisome glances. "Someone just knocked from the other side of the gates. Which is weird because our list says that we shouldn't be expecting anybody." Izumo knit his eyebrows together. Kotetsu, who had been looking through a glass which allowed him to see the incomer, hastily urging Izumo to help him. "ANBU!" He had barked at his partner, "Bleeding! Dying, wounds, whatever! They need medical attention!" That had caught Kakashi's attention, he got ready to act as the guards opened up the gates, heaving on the rusted hinges. Yet he was not mentally prepared for what awaited on the other side of the grand doors.

There she stood. Uniform torn, stained and ripped up. The wakizashi sword that was strapped to her hip was blunt and scratched, the sheath dented. Skin scratched and bruised, wounds dripping with blood and gore. A long x shaped cut on the inner side of her left thigh. Gasping and choking for air, she started to wobble, blood dribbling down her limbs and stomach. The rain continued to fall, now hard and heavy; burning and searing the wounds of the lady. Yet she still managed to keep her face from wavering In an instant, Kakashi recognized who the woman was based on her cracked porcelain ANBU mask. (y/n).... "Sakura! Go alert the hospital. And you two boys, clear the way for Sakura so she can get there. Quickly!" Kakashi ordered them as he took the heavily wounded woman in his arms. Anger and fear coursed through Kakashi's veins as his heart thumped erratically. He could feel (y/n)'s body twitch in pain. "Izumo, go let Hokage-sama know that Ibara-hime has returned." Kakashi let out one last demand before zipping off to follow his kids.

"Kakashi..." (y/n) mumbled out his name, "Kakashi..." she shakily rose her hands up to gently cup his masked cheeks. "What is it?" He whispered, gently rubbing her skin through a torn patch of her ripped uniform. "Happy birthday, Hatake..." She softly breathed, her tight grip of Kakashi's chest loosened as her eyes dropped closed. Please don't die, (y/n)... I've waited all the fucking years. You aren't leaving me again. A tear formed in Kakashi's eye, flying off with the rain as he bolted towards the hospital. Stay with me a bit longer, will you?

"My sensei will be here any second with an ANBU woman in need of immediate medical attention!" Kakashi heard Sakura's voice quiver as he barged into the hospital. "I'm here, kids. Go to Gai-sensei and stay with him until I'm back." He quickly barked, flashing all of the nurses who flowed into the room a nervous look. "Please, help her. I'm begging you." He pleaded with the staff uncharacteristically. I need her to live. Need. "We do what we can, sir." One of the medic-nin nodded, putting (y/n)'s unconscious body onto the stretcher. If (y/n) lives, that would be the best birthday gift ever.

Kakashi jogged after the nurses and doctors, peering into the emergency clinic room through the window. "I'm sorry, Sir, but you won't be able to visit the lady until all the major injuries have been cleaned up and treated." A male nurse out his hand in his shoulder from behind. "But..! Okay..." Kakashi let out a sigh, "Isn't there any paperwork that needs to be filled out?"

The nurse shook his head, "The Hokage has come and is speaking to one of my colleagues about it. Don't worry about it. You won't have to take care of any of that." He tried to reassure the angsty shinobi, "The woman is part of the ANBU ranks, right? Her mask is of the uniform." Kakashi nodded his head, biting his lip inside of his mask, "Yeah...she is... but it's kinda complicated." The nurse raised his eyebrow but just shrugged. "Can I speak with the Hokage?" The Hatake requested. "Come this way," the other man sighed, leading him away.

Kakashi let out a deep and long sigh as he held (y/n)'s scraped hand in his gloved ones. He had been told by the same nurse from before that (y/n) was in a decent state to accept visitors, yet was still unconscious. He could tell that the nurse was hiding something from him, but he was too worried about (y/n) to give it a second thought. Hesitantly, he brought her hand to his masked lips, gently pressing them against the fabric. "Ya know, (y/n). After you left, I decided to give those goddamn books a try. And you're right, they are addictive. Thanks for the gift," Kakashi sadly chuckled before pausing for a moment.

"Those books, they helped me a lot. They helped me get through my days, just like you told me."

"They also helped me realize something. They helped me realize that I don't hate you. I don't want to hate, and I never should've."

"I've realized that I was such a dick to you at the beginning and that it was all my fault that our relationship became how it was. I regret it... So when you wake up again, I just want to start over again. Maybe not entirely, but just so that we can leave all the hate behind us. How does that sound?"

Kakashi stared at the sleeping (y/n), her chest heaving up and how slowly and rhythmically. It hurt him to see her like that, her skin swollen in the places of the stitches and anointed bruises. "Listen, (y/n). I'd never been able to tell this to you while you're conscious, so I might as well let it out now. I...I love you." Kakashi rightly shut his uncovered eye. "After feeling your loss, my dumbass self finally realized how much you are worth. After they pass on, you and the others were all I had left. But then you also left me, that hurt like hell." His tone started to break.

"Lord Hokage told me about the whole fake-death move, and I was relieved that you weren't gone for good. And then we lost contact, everybody assumed the mission had been finished, and your squad sacrificed your lives for it. I couldn't let the fact that you could be a dead sink in. It didn't feel right. Gai, Asuma, and Kurenai tried to get me out of another depression cycle. Kurenai even went to the lengths of quite literally slapping some sense into me." Kakashi played with a loose strand of (y/n)'s (h/c) hair.

The muscles of (y/n)'s hand twitched ever so slightly. Kakashi's drooping head snapped up; he'd almost fallen asleep in the chair. "(y/n)?" He murmured as her eyes started to flutter, "(y/n)?"

(y/n) chapped lip parted ever so slowly, taking a big breath of air, her (e/c) eyes squinting. "Hatake..?" She shakily managed to mumbled, her voice hoarse and dry. She tried to prop herself up on the bed, but Kakashi eased her back into her resting position. "Rest, (y/n), you're not ready to stress yourself yet." Kakashi to her, "I'll be back with a nurse and some water for you, alright?" (y/n) opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She simply looked down and nodded.

Moments later, Kakashi came back with the nurse and water. "Here," he carefully put the cup to her lip, gently tipping the cup, "Good." He turned to the nurse, who seemed to be scribbling something down from the little monitor to his clipboard. Kakashi's eyes followed the cord attached to it, to the long x shaped hash in (y/n)'s inner left thigh. What worried Kakashi was the anxious look on the nurse's face.

"(l/n)-san, your vitals are doing alright, but you'll have to stay here for a night or two just so that we can keep an eye on something's that may need monitoring." He curtly nodded his head, "Lord Hokage wished to speak to you. So, sir, that means you may have to leave."

Kakashi tried to reason with the other man, but (y/n) reached to weakly squeeze his thigh. "It's okay, Hatake. You can just drop by later." (y/n) tried to smile. "Fine," Kakashi grumbled, leaving the room and letting Hiruzen in.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hiruzen came back out. "How's (y/n)?" Kakashi asked him impatiently. The Hokage put his hand on Kakashi's shoulder as if trying to soothe him, "She'll be better soon. Don't worry, alright." The silver-haired shinobi let out a small grunt, "I know that she'll get better with time. But what about now?"

Kakashi knew that Hiruzen loved (y/n) almost like a daughter, he cared about her deeply. Hence the elaborate cover-ups to protect (y/n) and her squad on the unconventionally lengthy mission. The Hatake could see the sadness that had tried to be tucked away in the Sarutobi's eyes. "The main concern of the moment is the poison in the gash on her left thigh. The medic-nins have tried to extract as much of it as possible, and try to find something that will counteract the effects." The elderly man explained to him. "Did they find an antidote?" Kakashi questioned.

"That is where the problem lies," Hiruzen explained, "There is a certain medicinal herb that is used alongside a jutsu to nullify the effects, as the poison has traces of chakra. We have a few medics on hand who support the skill to perform the jutsu, but we don't have the plant. Even so, that won't be a permanent cure." Kakashi knit his eyebrows together, "How would it not be a perfect cure? Plus, since there are traces of chakra, could we possibly track down the person who created the poison and make them fess up on the cure?" He questioned.

"Great thinking, but..." Hiruzen groaned, "(y/n) said that they performed a self-destruction jutsu just after striking her. He probably thought that it would be in their best interest to take their secrets to the grave with them." Kakashi cursed under his breath, "Fuck... This is terrible."

Hiruzen nodded in agreement, "No duh."

Kakashi's head shot up, "Uh?!"

The elder man's eyes widened, "Did I use the term correctly?! I'm trying to pick up on the phrases the kids are using these days..."

Kakashi gritted his teeth, "Right idea of the meaning, I guess. But the context and timing...wasn't quite fit." Looking ever so slightly dejected, "Oh...alright." Smoothening out the wrinkles in his robe and putting in his cob pipe, "Kakashi, if you are going to stay here with (y/n), could you at least pick up some good food. The food in the hospital canteen is quite bland." Kakashi nodded his head and obliged, only to be stopped in his tracks by Hiruzen.

"Kakashi, I'd like to ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"What caused your change in actions towards (y/n) change so much?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've observed you two whilst you were in the ANBU together, and you never got along that well. And suddenly you act so attached to her, Kakashi. You don't need to answer. It's just that as your leader, I want to understand what is going on in the heads of some of my most trusted people." Hiruzen explained to Kakashi, puffing out a cloud of smoke from his cob pipe.

Kakashi frowned from behind his mask, trying to figure out how to explain his change of feelings in a professional manner. "I think that after I was given the impression that she was gone, I noticed that I cared about her. It made me realize that I was wrong to not see how much she meant in my life." He tried, his voice fading off into a whisper. Hiruzen smiled and nodded, "You really are something else, Kakashi."

Kakashi silently strolled over to Ichiraku's to grab some takeout. The paper lanterns lit the nearly empty streets of Konoha, creating a soft and soothing ambiance. The smell of the rain and moisture still clung to the air, the dirt roads had muddy dampness to them. "Yo! Kakashi, my eternal rival!" A boisterous and friendly voice greeted the said man. "Hey, Gai," Kakashi responded, he noticed his students sitting alongside each other and gave them a quick wave and smile. Naruto and Lee were arguing about who'd get Sakura. Sakura insisted that Sasuke would come around in her favor. Sasuke was quietly eating his food. And Neji and Tenten were discussing a new sword they saw in the windowsill of a weaponry shop.

"I'll take two eggplant miso soups with brown rice noodles," Kakashi leaned over the counter space between Lee and Naruto to order his meal, also effectively stopping the argument. "Thanks, Ayame," he thanked the daughter of Teuchi, owner of the quaint place. "No problem, Kakashi-san!" She chirped.

"Kakashi?" Gai raised his brushy brow, "Your kids told me about what happened this morning..." Kakashi sighed and pulled him aside so that they were at a comfortable distance, "It was (y/n)..." he told his best friend, "She's back and in the hospital because she's not in good health at the moment. I just came here to pick up a meal for her." Kakashi watched as Gai's jaw dropped, "(Y/N) IS ALIVE!" He exclaimed a touch too loud for his eternal rival's taste, "CAN I MEET HER?!" Tears of youthful joy waterfalled down the jumpsuit-clad man's cheeks. "I'll see if you can come tomorrow, alright Gai." Gai smiled broadly, "This is very...unusual. Youthful, nonetheless!" He grinned.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head and nodded, "I'm glad she's back..." he murmured barely loud enough for Gai to hear. Knowingly, Gai patted Kakashi's back. "Oh! Yeah! Happy birthday, my youthful rival!" He gently punched his comrade's shoulder. A smile formed on Kakashi's lips, "Thanks, Gai." He flashed his eccentric friend his signature close-eyed smile.

"I'll see you later."

"Bye, Kakashi! Have a good night!"

Knock knock, Kakashi rapt (y/n)'s door, "Can I come in?"

"Come in," (y/n) murmured, a small moan of pain escaping her lips, "Ouch..."

Kakashi quickly set the takeout on a little table, rushing to (y/n)'s side. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and helped her to the table. "I got us dinner because the food at the canteen isn't that good." He explained with a slight shrug. "Thanks, Hatake," a weak smile formed on her lips. The silvered-haired Jonin served them their meals. "Itadakimasu," they both mumbled.

Heavy tension filled the room as they ate in silence. (y/n) knew that Kakashi had his mask down, but didn't look up. "It's been a while..." Kakashi breathed, in hopes of hearing (y/n) speak, "Too long..." The kunoichi rested her forehead on her palm, "I- Yeah..." she mumbled, eyes growing classier by the second. So much for trying to start a conversation... Kakashi thought sadly as they resumed their meals without a word. The silence seemed to be killed him. Kami, it had been 10 goddamn years! 3650 days since he had gotten to talk to the woman. He missed her. Hell, he could even say that he missed all of their little spats. Hatake Kakashi missed everything about (y/n).

"I missed you..." was all Kakashi mumbled as he pushed his finished food away and pulled up his mask, "All these days, months, and years."

Hot tears slipped down (y/n)'s cheeks, forming a puddle on the table. "I-I came back be-because I didn't want-want to hurt you and the r-rest. Dying on passed down pain to the people who love you. I can't afford to c-carry the guilt of t-that." She mumbled shakily, "I promised to be back, a-and I held up the promise." Kakashi sadly smiled as he awkwardly reached under the table to gently caress (y/n)'s thigh.

"You care about others so much, but you should really take a moment to care about yourself, (y/n)." Kakashi scolded the injured kunoichi, "You had me scared for you; all those gashes and open wounds... You could've died," he knit his eyebrows together in worry. "Don't do that ever again."

(y/n)'s dull smile faltered as Kakashi spoke on, "Now you know how I felt when I saw you doing all those suicidal stunts back then on those missions. It was like you were in a hurry to die... I mean, I was too, but you did some seriously dumb shit," she giggled emptily. Kakashi sweat-dropped, "I see... I guess you are right..." (y/n) rolled her (e/c) eyes as the masked shinobi let out a drained sigh, "I'm always right, Hatake."

"Really, (l/n)? You've been through torturous pain, and you still act like a child." Kakashi groaned, "All these years..." (y/n) shot him a hard glare, "All these years and you still think you're in charge of me." He cast a confused look, "It's my duty to protect you, as a comrade." As a comrade... "I guess, but you're just annoying, Hatake," she huffed.

"I'm sorry about ruining your birthday with my arrival and stuff. I probably ruined your plans with those kids." (y/n) looked down, breaking the silence that had fallen upon them, "I could hear you guys through the gate; they seemed pumped about going out. I'm sorry, I didn't think about the flaws in my whole plan." Kakashi's head snapped up from its resting position on the table, "It's fine, they don't even know it's my birthday," he paused, "But you planned to come here? As in, today in particular. With all those injuries, (l/n), you should've just tried to take care of yourself. My birthday isn't as important as your health."

The (y/n) shook her head, "I was going to stay at a small village pretty far from here before finally coming home. I planned to just heal up there and see how things went from there. I even considered settling down there. But that just didn't feel right," (y/n) face set in a frown, "Once I realized that your birthday wasn't that far off, I decided that I couldn't stay and needed to come back. I doubted I would even live to be back. But here I am..." she said with a soft wince of pain. "It was terrible, I hated every second of it," Her (s/t) fingers made their way to the raw mark on her inner thigh, “I’d already lost so much; there was nothing for me to lose at that point.” Kakashi's face softened as he understood what she meant. (y/n) wasn't put in the mission alone, she had her team. They all must've been killed with time.

"Ouch!" (y/n) yelped as she let out a moan of pain, clenching the fabric of her hospital-issued pajama pants. “Shh..." Kakashi whispered into her ear, quickly leaning in to soothe her, "What's causing all this pain?" He asked with a frown as (y/n) bit her lip. "It's the thing in your thigh, right? Lord Hokage and the nurse told me a bit about it. But I still don't fully understand it and how it can't fully be cured."

(y/n) buried her face in her hands, "Oh..." She mumbled, "The poison can't de be removed because it's already been inside of me too long. And since it is laced with chakra, the properties of it aren't completely like normal poison." She blinked back the stinging agonizing tears in her eyes, "The herb that I need is just going to ease the effects in my body, whilst the jutsu will seal it from triggering anything that was layered in with the chakra." (y/n) explained. Kakashi could tell she was trying her hardest to keep her face straight, pushing back the pain and hurting inside. "The thing is–"

"What?" Kakashi asked the pained woman, his tone soft and soothing, "I can help if I know what's going on."

Warily, (y/n) agreed to speak on, "The place where the mission was stationed at was just underground of the nuke-nin outpost I was from. And the guy who poisonous me was one of the other kids' experiments were done on, along with me. He was a few years older than us, and his name was Hiroto Myoga. His parents were in owed debt to the rogues, they were forced into being test subjects until they died. Which left Hiroto in the nuke-nin's hands." She rubbed the temple of her head pushing away the images that sent a shiver down her spine, "Something similar had happened in the case of my parents and me. But unlike me, when the ANBU did the raid, Hiroto was snuck away just in time."

Kakashi's heart sank as he heard what she was telling him. (y/n) had never known much about her past, the damned curse seal had caused. “Since he was older than most of the other kids there, the nuke-nin's of the outpost decided that they needed to trust their information. It was all precautionary, just in case they were taken down. And that's just what happened. Hiroto was the one ordered to put memory restriction curse seals on us, the kids, before he fled to be underground, where the actual harm was being done. That meant that all this time Hiroto had been working in those old plans." (y/n) closed her eyes tightly, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

With a subtle groan, Kakashi supported (y/n) up from the chair and rested her in her cot. "Don't stress yourself, (y/n). You can just tell me later; it's getting late anyway." He told her. "It's fine, Hatake. Letting this out helps me feel better." She reassured him.

"The ANBU caught wind of suspicious activity in that area and decided to send out a squad to go check out. I overheard Danzō arguing with Lord Hokage about it, and got interested. It was really dumb, but I just wanted to go to learn more about what happened in my past. I learned, but that can with lots of twists and turns. 10 years of going undercover..." (y/n)'s (e/c) eyes met Kakashi's single uncovered black one, "It wasn't long before Hiroto became suspicious of us, slowly narrowing the group down till it was just me." (y/n) took a deep breath and continued, "After Hiroto killed himself in our final fight, my curse seal was lifted. That's how I suddenly was able to remember all of the past. All of it."

A pit formed in Kakashi's stomach as he watched (y/n) cry in silence. He wanted to help her feel better, he really did. But he was afraid that he'd make things worse; dealing with feelings just wasn't his thing. "I'm here for you, (l/n). We've been through so much together, you've helped me through it all," Kakashi tried to reassure her, "It's my turn to look after you. Please, just don't cry." He reached out his hand to brush a tear-off of her streaked cheeks.

“Are you okay with me staying here for the night?" Kakashi asked (y/n) as they sat at the bay window, looking down upon the empty moonlit streets of Konoha. The soft light cast down by the moon seemed to make everything look beautiful, serene, and at peace. "(l/n)?" He asked again, turning to look back at her. A gentle smile played on Kakashi's lips as he saw that she'd fallen asleep. (y/n) had been through so much throughout the day, she not only deserved to rest for a long time but also needed to. "Good night, (y/n)..." he carefully lifted the sleeping beauty and placed her on the cot. Sitting back at the bay seat, Kakashi took in a deep breath. "I love you."

She's finally back.

She's finally home.

[spencerscoven]

— dreams of another

about ; Since that night in the office you wander onto Spencer’s mind at all times, like clockwork.

gif by saramichellesgeller

CONTENT WARNING: unedited, smut, oral sex (male&female receiving), choking, unprotected sex, cheating, angst

a/n: view part 1 here.

The second time it happens, it's only a week that passes before Spencer finds himself on the floor of the humid conference room, his limbs entangled with yours, while the cool air settles on the sheen of sweat coated on his forehead. In the corner of of the room, he watches the navy blouse discarded carelessly on the top of a chair, similar in color to the marks between your breast.

The third time it happens, he tells you it's the last time, with his back facing you and his eyes gazing at entirely nothing.

The fourth and fifth time, Spencer doesn't say anything in the tiny space of your bedroom as he overlooks the buildings surrounding your apartment, then all the way to the concrete foundation down below, studying how insignificant everyone looked. How unknowing they were to the moral wrongdoings happening all around them.

"You live so high up. I live four floors down from here in my own building." You listened as he said those fruitless words.

"What does that mean?" You questioned, lips pursing together while your finger nails caught on the creases of the cream duvet beneath you where he laid only minutes before.

“People like you are meant to fuck people like me.” He mumbles, smirking, the vibrations of his voice upheld by the enclosures of cheap plaster walls.

The only thing left to do was to watch as the muscles of his back contracted, dancing in the lines of the darkness with the patter of his feet coming towards you. You monitored the direction of his hand as it reached for the band of his briefs, the other already latched around your neck.

The sixth time it happens, it’s in the bounds of his own apartment where he presses peppery kisses along the sides of your face, assuring you in confidence that she wouldn’t catch the two of you there. And he reassures you the only way he knows how, his fingers plying at your zipper and kneeling like he would at an alter, guiding the arch of your hips closer.

Two weeks from then was when the phone calls started. You began to understand the pattern, laying awake until the sweet pinnacle of dawn where he’d whisper your name through the receiver, exhaustion tainted in Spencer’s voice when he’d ask, “how was your night?” before he began to speak. You’d listen to Spencer talk about the good and the bad. About his mother, vintage cufflinks, and the bookshelf he wanted. Sometimes about the glasses or earrings in the store had reminded him of you. Often about how pretty you looked latched onto his cock. You wanted him to want to keep you.

You wanted him to want you first, to touch you before you even had to lay a finger on him, to grab the back of your neck and kiss you first. Anything he could do to prove that he wanted this too. Something in your head told you it was wrong to long for such a furtive thing. But you found yourself willing to be second best anyways, head stuck below sub zero while you prioritized the taste of his lips along with everything else that made him, him.

So in the shadows this thing between the two of you remained.

And the team began to realize Spencer now had a thing with being late.

They also began to realize that you didn’t drink nearly enough coffee to warrant all of your disappearances.

JJ malignly embarked on the observation of the two of you during meetings, where you never met Spencer’s eye properly but unconsciously leaned your body towards him with each interaction. And all at once it made sense to her, why he was more drawn to his phone, departing from bed at night in preference of hushed ringtones, his growing fondness to late nights. They had never agreed to a proclamation of love, not even on the days she relaxed on his dingy apartment furniture. JJ figured it was his way of waiting on her to feel the same as he might’ve, when in reality it was Spencer’s way of making sure you still remained in his life.

It was a Tuesday when she let the structure of your sin unravel in the bleak corner of the hallway with Spencer, confessing “i know” and chastening him,

“How many people are you willing to hurt?”

With the unequivocal decision pinned to the front of his brain, Spencer told you he didn’t want to hurt anyone else during the last call the two of you shared at night. The words became lost from your ears as you feigned deafness, thinking about how stupid you were to take him in the only way you could, thinking one-third of him be adequate enough.

So you hung up before he said goodbye, and it was easy to do solely because if love couldnt suffice, hate would have to.

It was odd to overlook the call that came immediately after, your eyes unblinking at the white screen. The weeks after that only came to demonstrate that finding a home within someone was overrated, even if you knew who was behind the blocked numbers that caused your phone to viberate so often it would fall off your nightstand.

Little by little you figured you’d forget and move onto your own devices, exhausted by the ability that you still moved through life, yet experienced none of it without itching for him next to you. You lusted after the idea you’d wake up with the intensity of it all slipped from your mind, forgetting how his arms felt, skin, pulse, the sound of his voice, or the soft ringlets of his hair that continued to grow as you wilted.

A harder idea to get out of your head was if he was okay, followed by if he ever thought of you at the same time you thought of him. Did he know you wouldn’t have minded resigning to another team? Or that you considered doing it, even now?

Spencer spectated your life, the base of his throat becoming caught when he watched you get worse, speak less, become smaller. You’d shrunken within yourself. Months passed, with him having too many inquiries about you to Morgan, who always gave him a disappointing look, but told him about you each time. That you hadn’t been sleeping, internal clock stuck on keeping you up until the crack of dawn, your mind regressing backwards solely because of him. He gave up on leaving those stupid sticky notes in your books that said “call me!” or even the ones that asked if you were okay, asking if you able to stand on your own.

He watched you so long that he began to see you get better, more social as you expanded, becoming a part of the team again. You were different, but you were you again. It was a bitter pill to swallow when he took heed that your life no longer included him, keeping his lips sealed at any revelation that would show he was still devoted.

So it was dull-witted when he found himself outside the door of your apartment, swaying back and fourth because every night since the last call his world had been spinning faster and faster, trapping him inside as a prisoner. For weeks straight Spencer had awoken with the feeling of bile ready to rise out of his throat, your presence always lacking even if you controlled the beat of his heart.

He knocked. And thought about how angelic you looked when you answered, the confused expression not going unnoticed by him as a celebration sounded somewhere in his mind because you looked as if you weren’t expecting anyone else. And Spencer knows he’d collapse right then and there if you had been.

“I’ve been thinking— it’s not like I can really stop it— for months. It’s been around sixty eight days since we last spoke,” He began, taking you in, enstilling trust in his brain to get a photo of you so well that he could have it forevermore if you didn’t want him anymore. If that had ever been the case he’d leave. He’d leave the state if you asked him to.

“Why are you here?” You only had four words to say out loud, the rest buzzing around in your head safely, unauthorized to rise out of your throat.

“We never really said anything about it but I think we both knew how we felt.” Spencer leans closer just in time for his lips to land beside your ears, lighting a match inside your chest that had stayed extinguished for far too long.

“Speaking was never our strong suit, anyway.” You replied, your lips pursed while your arms took on a defensive stance, pushing him back gently.

You were shipwrecked inside, pushing him back again, this time firmly because you knew you couldn’t stop him from coming closer, even if you wanted to. You were at a standstill as his hands brought yours to his shoulders, drawing circles on your hip with the tips of his fingers. He was in your doorway asking if he was yours, not trying to eloquently wrap you around his finger.

Your limbs acted before your mind did, digits moving across his adam’s apple and holding tight, restricting his airflow like he had done to you so many times while he fucked you into the mattress. You gleamed at him with not much in your eyes, trying to remembering when you had tried to cross the thin line between love and hate for him. Spencer’s eyes were soft and adoring, a look which he had a tendency to give you. So you held tighter. And he did nothing, knowing you wouldn’t go far but willing to die in your hands if you truly wanted to.

“I don’t know if you deserve this anymore,” Your lips ghosted over his, reprimanding him that he’d forgotten that this had began in a game of adultery.

“I don’t.” Spencer’s voice came out as if he was parched and you had been refusing him of a drink. Your hands released his neck and instead grabbed at his jaw, allowing his lips to mend together with yours, unable to speak back.

“If I loved you any less, I’d be able to talk about it more.” He pulled away just enough to whisper those words.

“You love me?” You questioned, a bit timid in the way it came out.

“It’s more than that. I adore you. Worship, even.”

You felt yourself moving the both of you into your apartment, swapping the publicity of the hallway for the privacy closely afforded to you. Your bodies only got so far, pushing each other against the wall next to the enterence, Spencer’s hands helping to arch your body into his, hands pressing down the curve of your back.

You enjoyed feeling him subtly grind his hips against you while he let out little whimpers, remembering the way he was so vocal and sensitive, yet dominant when he laid between your legs. You drew in a quick breath as he bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw the red liquid that ran through your body, conflicted as to why it only drew you closer, want intensified.

“I missed you so much,” Spencer’s voice ghosted in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking along your throat and collarbones, pushing the palm of his hand harshly against your damp cotton underwear, drawing a shiver from you. “Are lilacs still favorite flowers?”

His fingers played along your slit, the pads of his thumb pressing on your clit and rotating above the fabric, watching your hips jerk from the subtle pleasure.

“I think you missed me too,” Spencer held you, switching places so you now were encased between him and the wall, knowing that soon enough your knees wouldn’t be able to hold you up. His index and middle finger filled you up in a way only he could, the tips of them curving in his direction as he hit the bumpy ridge inside of you.

You held his shoulder, uncaring that your nails dug into the expensive button up he wore, admiring that he always preferred quality over quantity. Your face contorted in pleasure as his fingers only pumped faster inside of your vagina, only smirking at the sorry attempt of a nod you gave to answer him because he had rendered you speechless.

You felt the climb of your orgasm rise in your stomach, reaching all the way to the rest of your limbs, making them feel as if they were just static attached to your body until his fingers ceased, sensing how you clenched around them desperately. Your mouth opened, protests ready to fall out while he grasped the back of your knees, signaling you to jump so he could carry you to your bedroom.

“Why are you always such a tease?” You groaned, endearingly grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I can’t just let your greedy pussy swallow my fingers and cum from just that...” he tosses you into your sheets gently, leaning down to take your top off and throwing it somewhere to be rediscovered again.

He watches silently as you lift your hips off the mattress, panties sliding down your calves to your ankles, and finally off. Spencer gazes down at you, your jaw in his two hands, staring up with puppy eyes. He let a line of swears spring from his mouth, wondering why you looked so innocent when your hands were planted on his hips, licking the precum that made a wet patch on the side of his pants.

“Quite unfair that I’m the only one with my clothes off, don’t you think?” Your hands settled on his belt buckle, the jingle of metal filling the room as you undid the button to his slacks as well. Tugging him by the band of his boxers to lay on the bed with you, Spencer caught the cue and laid against the headboard. He trailed his left hand along your thighs, lifting you to straddle him as his right latched onto your breasts, squeezing.

“Please sit,” He said, taking a nipple into his mouth, “On my face.”

You sat in a slightly worried daze, Spencer catching the clue to just move you into the position. You found yourself facing the mirror at the foot of your bed, your ass in his face as he grabbed at your hips, trying to bring you higher and get a taste.

“Are you sure?” You apprehensively twisted your torso to eye him, taking note that the two of you had came across something you’d quite done before.

“Yes, I need you to.” Spencer reached his arm around, gently rubbing your clit, and feeling how your whole body relaxed from above him, as he repeated affirmations against your back.

You watched from the mirror, your ass propped up in his face and lips swollen. You could even see when you began the swivel of your hips into him. He didn’t need to say much else before you arched your back, planting your pussy right above his lips.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispered, before running his tongue flatly against your pussy.

Your hips jerked back and fourth, riding on the surface of his tongue that enveloped your clit, sucking on it harshly until he flatly ran it up. His fingers were back at work, touching the places where his tongue couldn’t reach. You determined that this position was now one of your favorites, your hands that were once placed on the tops of his thighs reaching for the bludge in his boxers.

You tried pulling them just far enough so you could begin to run your hands up and down his cock. Spencer’s tongue only assaulted your clit harder when you leaned down, allowing him a new angle so you could push him into your mouth, collecting the precum that had spilt, humming in delight.

Spencer couldn’t stop the thrusting of his hips upwards, burying himself deeper down your throat, both of your moans viberating off the atoms in your room. Your eyes wandered up as you watched, hypnotized at the reflection of you two. It made you wanna take his dick deeper, taking him to the back of your throat as you felt his cum ripple out.

Your orgasm only took a few more seconds to follow his, your moan muffled from your jaw expanded around his cock. Your hasty breaths harbored his while you saw stars. You were casted out of your stupor when you felt the palm of his hand rub circles into your ass, hand coming down in a smack.

“This fucking pussy has me whipped.” Spencer sighed, pressing a kiss exactly where his hand last struck.

When you positioned yourself back across his abdomen, you kneeled, kissing him. You felt him twitch under you from tasting himself on your tongue, reaching down to line up his cock to enter you.

Spencer stared up at you, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of you slowly descending your pussy on his cock. His hands traced the hickies that dawned on your chest, then to his on his lower stomach, watching how the two of you connected. These were marks of possession— ones that he could finally show off.

You rolled your hips against his, slowly circling them and allowing him to hit the most sensitive parts of you. You felt so much fuller than usual, the feeling taking your breath away. Nobody else could reach those heights that Spencer gave you. Maybe it was also because nobody else could occupy your mind like he could, either.

He pulled you down so the two of you could reunite your lips, wearing away at the callouses that had formed around your heart. His thumb drew slow circles on your clit, pulling your orgasm out so you could cum above him. It took a few more thrusts before he came inside you, continuing to fuck his seed back into you from below for just a while longer. When Spencer’s hips stilled, he kept inside, basking in the embodiment of you that wholly consumed him.

He silently traced the outlines of your features, your eye lids fluttering as he reached to them. His fingernails scratched your scalp im a rythem that lulled you into hazy exhaustion. You feel his stare on your face as it occurs to him that he was doomed from the start. You were a wonder to behold.

“Spencer?”

“Yes?”

“Did you forget all of the things I remember?”

“I don’t think I could even if I tried.”

masterlist

[rose-colored-amy]

So, this is a continuation to my extremely short one-shot Last Moments, Last Regrets, but it can be read as a stand-alone. Regardless, I'll leave the link of that one in here:

Also, thanks to @coeurhh for suggesting I write a second part. You're a sweetheart 🥰

She made a lovely fanart/gif, which I'm also sharing, of course:

Prompt: AU. Sakura's death goes unnoticed to everyone but the squad she protected with her life and Tsunade. Team Kakashi doesn't find out until the very end, when Naruto and Sasuke have already had their fight, and there's nothing to do about it but mourn the absence.

Warning: Mild Sasusaku and lots of angst. Team 7 sort-of-fluff (?)

—Blue Bird, Let Go—

"Hey, bastard... I know they really let us down, the village, I mean."

"Aa... "

"But I really think it's not all that bad. When we were I team, I knew you understood. It felt like having a brother, believe it."

They were watching their lives go by, shadows of unknown faces passing by them, not noticing their pain, or not caring whatsoever. Their backs were touching, but it was all cold and bleak; a bad memory. A clan slaughtered, a demon sealed. Two lonely boys wallowing in their own sadness.

"Well, even if I don't make it, I'm glad it was you, bastard—"

"Shut up, idiot." His voice sounded strained, even for his standards, but Sasuke was so tired he couldn't even bring himself to care.

"We're really dying, ah? Wanna say something? I do have things to say, 'cause there's no way I'm dying—"

"In silence?" Sasuke interrupted, but Naruto payed him no mind.

"Without telling you how much of an asshole you've been! I couldn't even keep my promise to Sakura-chan! She's gonna be so damn mad when she finds out, I'm sure she'll drag me back to life just to cave my face in—" He was rambling at that point, but it was just so comforting and normal to Sasuke that he didn't even acknowledge it anymore.

"Hn. Sakura... She..."

"She still loves you, asshole. I don't have any idea how it can be possible but—"

"I'm sorry..." It sounded rushed, but Naruto heard it perfectly, and in the darkness of their shared consciousness, Sasuke heard a resigned sigh.

"Well, it's not that bad. I cannot imagine dying beside anyone but you, bastard."

"Idiot..." He made a pause. "Me neither."

"You're both a pair of idiots!"

Suddenly, the unreadable mass of unrecognizable faces around them cleared, and one figure stood in front of them, pink eyebrows frowned in annoyance. Though this version of Sakura looked familiar, it was one none of the boys had seen in a long time. Genin, long-haired, Sakura was glaring at them, arms crossed.

"Sakura-chan! What are you doing in here?!"

Her eyes softened. "What, so I'm supposed to let you two die, after everything? No way in hell!"

"Sakura..."

"You!" She pointed at Sasuke, who flinched slightly at her rudeness. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I don't care. Lighten up and start being your moody self. We love you just like that! Don't act so repented and shit! If you're sorry stop looking like a lost puppy and start doing something about it, you asshole!" Her voice was raising with madness and it was slightly off putting to see what used to be a stuttering lovestruck preteen talking to him like that.

Naruto snorted at that, obviously delighted for not being at the receiving end of her wrath for once. It was short-lived, however.

"And you!" She pointed at the blonde; then crossed her arms. He jumped back in fright. "What is this? How dare you even consider dying after you promised to be the best goddamned Hokage in history?! Here I am, rooting for you, while you lay around like a lazy pig with your edgy bro there. You should be ashamed of yourself!" She scoffed.

Naruto's mouth was so wide open he could have caught a fly. "Lazy pig? Are you kidding?!"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, half amused, half annoyed. "Edgy?"

Suddenly, the edges of their vision began to blurr, like a genjutsu being unravelled. "Ah, someone came to help you at last." Sakura seemed relieved. Strangely so.

"Hey, Sakura-chan! You know what? You're right. I'll be the best damn Hokage ever, believe it! Just you watch!" He threw a punch to the air.

Seemingly placated and pleased with his answer, she nodded. "I know so." Then, she turned to her other teammate, who was concentrating solely on her face, mismatched eyes softened as they'll ever be. "And you'll make sure he doesn't mess up, right?"

They shared a long silence. There was something strange about Sakura aside her appearance. He could tell. "Hn. I will..."

"Hey! I don't need him watching over—"

"Sure you don't." He countered sarcastically.

"Also..." They turned to her again. "I'm sorry."

"Wha—" Naruto stuttered. "What the hell would you be sorry for, Sakura-chan?! If anything, it's the bastard here who should be apologizing to you!"

"Sakura..." Sasuke seemed to be searching for the right words, but she couldn't let them go without them listening to her. To what she needed them to know. There wasn't much time left after all.

"I'm sorry, because I wasn't what you needed..." She closed her eyes, her pretty minty orbs. Her appearance suddenly shifted, before then now standing her true self, still dressed in the standard shinobi uniform of the alliance. Her forehead protector lost to whoever knows where. "And thank you. You both made me stronger. You made me appreciate what I had. And I'll always, always love you. Our moments together like team seven... I'll treasure them for all eternity."

"Sakura-chan..."

"I know Konoha wasn't the best to you both, but don't forget the good... The wholesome moments. It's all that matters in the end... Our bonds, the bonds you managed to forge with sweat and blood... The world we live in, the world that gave me the chance to meet you. To me, that's to be cherished. Forever."

The white light started overwhelming the rest. Even Sakura's features started dissapearing.

"Live. Just live." For that, she specifically stared at Sasuke, a soft smile playing on her lips. "And thank you."

Sasuke started racing towards her, hand stretched, a forebonding understanding shaking his bones. "Sakura!"

And then, they both lost consciousness.

When they woke up, aside from feeling like shit, the first thing that crossed their minds what the finality of Sakura's words. Tsunade was beside them, patching them up, with Kakashi beside her, silently watching over them.

"About time, brats! What were you think—"

"Baa-san." Naruto interrupted her, his voice the most serious she had heard him until then.

"Where's Sakura?" Sasuke finished for him, his eyes icy and detached, trying to keep his worry at bay.

But she didn't need to answer. Her chakra flow hesitated, spiking with sorrow. Her eyes glistening with unbearable loss. Kakashi, at her side, stared, eyes widened in comprehension.

She was gone by a long shot.

And they were just finding out.

...

Everybody had different ways of dealing with loss. Naruto helped rebuild the village along with everyone else, but he skipped his usual meals, his ramen left forgotten in his kitchen counter. His movements when sparring were sloppy at best, not just because of the new prosthetic limb, but also because his mind was clearly somewhere else. Usually, Shikamaru would drag him out his makeship house, like he had done when Jiraija was gone for good. Sometimes, he would bring Ino with him, who was suspiciously skinny and messier than normal. No makeup covering the dark circles under her eyes.

Kakashi spent more than usual at the memorial stone every day, tracing the newly marked name of the girl who once remained him of Rin but that had come to claim a place for herself in his heart. Also, he took more missions than it was allowed in a month, going so far as to pick up his ANBU mask again, which caused an altercation with Tsunade, who hadn't been sober in a long time and had been hoping to hand the Hokage seat to him.

Sai avoided the color pink for a long time.

Sasuke... Well, he dealed with loss the same as everyone else... Longing for the missing person to be there, itching to have the opportunity to say what he couldn't at the time. Wanting to be alone whenever they would reach for him... And he built a tomb for her in hopes to find some closure. Not that official, because there wasn't a body to bury, and it had no name, but it was enough for him. He would bring with him camellias every day, buying them at the Yamanaka's, where Ino would always glance at him in silent understanding.

One morning, on his way to her tomb, he spotted a young shinobi leaving a white lilly for her. When he came by, the child spoke without a care, like they were acquaintances. "This is Sakura-san's, right?"

"Hn." It wasn't really an answer, but the child seemed to understand anyway.

"You know? Mama and big sister are also buried in these grounds... I always talk to them and tell them about my day and stuff I want them to know!" He turned to the Uchiha, a smirk on his cherubic face. "I'm sure she would appreciate it as well." And just like that, he left without another word.

Sasuke sat on the ground, just in front of the stone, mismatched eyes half lidded. Sensing no one in the vicinity, he exaled a shaky breath, and his dam opened up, the words longing to be said broke the silence he had been wrapping around himself since he knew of her death:

"I miss you... I've been missing you since I first left."

[jennsmischievousmind]

Chaos Therapy

Session #2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You were assigned to a field mission, with particulars co-agents, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. One mission turned into multiples. After each missions you are debriefed by a therapist, Dr Noach just as Sam and Bucky. Thing is, they don’t know that you are much more than an agent.

Warnings: pining, bit of angst, Buck/Sam bickering, violence (fights against enemies), mild swearing (still real bad at warnings)

Published: 2021-02-21 Completed: 2021-03-30

Mumbling your floor to the AI, you tried to relax but the door not closing triggered you. Hearing voices coming your way you understood.

“I don’t get it tincan, you got the new arm, the new haircut loosen up,” Sam Wilson came into view followed by Barnes, you would have never thought yet you got star-struck by his intense gaze when it locked on yours – Wilson got oddly silent for a second his look bouncing between the two of you until Barnes looked away and faced the door.

Wilson snorted “Guess we won’t talk about what just happened,” a smirk growing on his face.

Rolling your eyes you resumed your attention on the elevator transparent walls. Until you caught yourself glancing at Bucky’s back, inevitably your look followed his left shoulder to his metal well, vibranium arm, unfortunately, you could only see his wrist and hand. It’s not like you had studied all of the late Mr Stark’s researches on his previous metal arm and Wakanda’s report on the new appendage... The few golden lines you could see were mesmerizing, fingers itching to trace them you quickly shook your head remembering where you were. The elevator finally stopped at your level.

"Meeting at 6, briefing in the jet." You declared trying to focus on the mission at hand, accidentally brushing Barnes' left arm as you exit.

You were about to apologize but Sam intervened "Okay boss"

Smiling you lifted an eyebrow "I'm not your boss, but keep that in mind just in case."

You kept your eyes on Wilson who was nodding at your answer appreciating your repartee until the door was inches too close your eyes shifted to Barnes'. His eyes already on you.

“Fuck! You’re a professional for Stark’s sake, get a grip!” getting angry at yourself you head for the cave.

_

"Can you tell me more about the actual mission you had?'"

"It’s classified."

"Alright," she smirks "I see here that you had to use your field agent training? "

“Affirmative ma’am!”

"Weren't you supposed to assist and use your shadow IT skills,"

"Also, affirmative,"

“So, what happened?”

_

Tactical gears, the best part of field missions, hands skimming the gears sprawled out on the metal table, you couldn't wait.

‘You won’t be wearing that actually," the technician kicked you off your reverie, you frowned "Casual clothes, Kevlar under it, one gun, that’s it.”

The deceive expression didn’t escape the attention of the techs around the table. “It’s not always big guns and expensive gear”

“Yeah, I get that. Great…” you grabbed the gun and the Kevlar. Ready to meet your co-agents at the hangar. They were by the jet reviewing things with the techs.

“Agent Wilson, Agent Barnes.” You rearranged your top over your kevlar,

“Ok, hold on, please call me Sam,’

“Alright, then call me Y/N or boss.” he chuckled at your saying.

“This is tincan,” his thumb pointed to Barnes

"Uh" squinting at Sam, surprised by the verbal jab, you were unable to form any words.

Bucky sighed, throwing his bag in a corner of the jet “Your record is scratched, Wilson”

“Newsflash. We don’t use records anymore Buck!”

You stayed silent watching them bicker on the jet's ramp, taking mental notes. Bucky's jaw clenching every now and then, the never-ending smirk of Sam. How and why did anyone think it was a good idea to team them up?

“I already miss my cave.” You mumbled and passed by them, they both looked at you as you made your way in the tactic jet.

The briefing went smoothly, oddly, although seeing Barnes in tactical gear didn't leave you indifferent. Your mind yelling to get a grip while your eyes roam his geared up body. Now you had a full view of his vibranium arm, he caught you once or twice looking intently at it, each time you felt bad you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable or anything.

Few hours later, spent meditating and reviewing the mission in your head, avoiding the guys, avoiding Bucky, you ended up on one of the New Singapore islands. The tactic jet retreats back as soon as you three touched the ground.

“I go first, you come in after I made sure the target’s in, Buck in standby”

“Yeah, we know,” Bucky spoke, you could hear the exasperation in his voice.

Sam smirked at Bucky before rounding the corner leading to the underground club. There you were alone with Bucky Barnes.

"Are you two always like that?" you leaned on the concrete wall behind you.

He was standing straight, hands on his tactical belt "What'd you mean by that?" you tried not to stare as his look remained forward.

"Tough love and all.." your teasing voice made him glance your way. He hid a smirk and fully turned to you taking a step forward. “We’re working on that,” it was your turn to hide a smirk, and you thanked the dark alley for hiding the dusted red that had reached your neck at his closeness.

Minutes later Sam had called in the comm. Getting through the crowd you reached the bar where Sam was, clubs, forsaken places. He nodded at the back of the club where he had seen the target get out.

Making your way to the hidden office in the back, the dark and the loud music were your allies, scanning the room with one of the few gadgets you were allowed to have you were relieved to find it empty of human forms.

“Ok, 15 minutes” you called out in the comm’. Forcing the door, you look behind you before sliding it shut. Rummaging the all room you finally find the old metal case.

“I got the codes,” you were supposed to analyse them on site and then destroyed them but when you didn’t hear any of them answered you stopped “Sam?” silence “Barnes?” a distant crash followed by howls caught your attention.

“Y/N GET OUT!” Bucky's voice rang into your comm' not missing a beat you grabbed the case, slide the door open ready to run to the backdoor. “Oh!” you stopped dead in your tracks, a large man about 6 feet tall blocked the door. He eyed the case in your hand, you shrugged.

Pouncing on you, you easily dodged him as he was so slow, you ran to the main room instead, only to find Sam and Bucky fighting against a bunch of dudes.

“Subtle mission my ass,” you muttered to yourself, Watching them, you were genuinely interested in the two Avengers' fighting skills, missing the big guy coming behind you.

Grabbing your middle, trapping your arms against your body he lifted you as if you were a feather. Quickly refocusing you hooked your feet to his calve, balancing your weight against him he started to wobble backwards, his arms slipping up past your chest allowing you to elbow his floating ribs multiple times. He finally let go groaning, you took this time to kick his knee, he whaled staying down. Seeing the boys were still fighting and enemies still coming in you joined them. Back to back with both of them holding your ground.

“Buck you wanna clear the path” Sam snickered.

"Sure if you've got a great idea in mind involving your chicken wings go ahead," Buck retorted earning a death stare from Sam.

"I'm really deliberating leaving you here with them right now," you checked your gun’s mag.

"And how do you plan on getting out?"

“Close your eyes” the boys followed your request without any doubt.

You activated your anti-flash lenses with a press on your temple. Launching the tiny flashbang on the ground it exploded blinding everyone around you. Since the guys couldn’t open their eyes yet and you could clearly see the path you grabbed them both by the wrists and pulled them out, they ran behind you blindly for less than a minute until you reached the outside, stopping in the nearest alley.

The place was loud with cries, smokes evading the place brushing the neon lights creating a halo of blurred colours. Lost in the moment, the adrenaline rushing out you felt your right hand becoming colder in an instant, a low whirring and vibration coming from the vibranium wrist you were holding soothed your racing heart.

Sam had already escaped your grasp to check on the escape route. Quickly removing your hold you glanced at Bucky to make sure he wasn't uncomfortable but his face showed a different emotion. His gaze remained on his wrist where a second ago your warm hand was, brow knitted yet his look was soft, he clenched his fist and released it, he snapped out of it when an explosion occurred in the club. Time to run.

“If I knew we were about to run so much I wouldn’t have worn my best suit!” Sam argued, your lips curved into a smile at his annoyed voice.

In the jet safe and sound you tried to work on the codes but the two supposed-to-be grown-ups you work with were arguing about how the mission went wrong. Eventually, you tuned them out and send the files to the intelligence.

After giving back your gear to the assistant waiting for you in the hangar you turned to your co-agents.

“That was fun!” Sam tossed his suit jacket upon his shoulder “we should team up more often”

You scoffed “I don’t know about that”. Bucky came down the ramp his gear in hands, your jaw clenched at the way he looked so effortlessly good, it ignited something in you and you thought why the hell am I fighting this.

“Sam, Barnes,” you bowed your head slightly heading to the quarters' area, already writing the reports in your head, before needy thoughts cloud your mind.

“Bucky, it’s Bucky,” he called out, you spun fully, walking backwards “Bucky,” you spoke softly, the corner of your mouth quirked up, eyes entirely focused on him, his didn’t waver either. Rounded a crate disappearing from their view you bit your lower lips.

Sam nudged Bucky’s shoulder "When I said to loosen up, I didn't imply crushing on our new teammate,"

"Shut up,"

_

“And it was the first official mission with them?”

“Yes ma’am, … the intelligence thought the mission was a success, somehow. Against what I thought, they decided to team us up again,”

She nods, your answer exactly what she wanted to hear, she cuts the recorder.

“All is going well then” she closes her tablet, undoing the first button of her shirt feeling stuffy.

“I’ll be able to give you something more tangible in a few missions,”

SESSION #3

MASTERLIST

Published: 2021-02-21 Completed: 2021-03-30

I will be tagging Chaos Therapy now, since some of you might filter the TFATWS tags to avoid spoilers.

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 18

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 17

Next Chapter: Chapter 19

Thomas had always enjoyed swimming. He used to be a competitive swimmer in school, and still considered going back to it at university. He was fast and he guessed he’d need to slow down for Alastair, who was not a frequent swimmer at all. While Alastair was fast and nimble on the land, his swimming skills appeared only enough to not drown. Which arguably was the most important when it came to swimming, but Thomas had to be careful, he didn’t want to exhaust Alastair or leave him behind.

‘I don’t usually like swimming all that much,’ Alastair admitted.

‘Really? Then why did you come?’ Thomas asked.

A wicked gleam appeared in Alastair’s dark eyes and he smiled. ‘For the scenery, of course.’

Thomas guessed it was the first time they’d seen each other wearing only swim shorts, although he had seen some of Alastair’s chest after Tessa had bandaged his shoulder. The wound looked closed now, but Thomas knew it was still sensitive.

While Alastair was skinny, he was also lightly toned. Not muscular like Thomas was, but elegant and graceful. He was beautiful. He remembered Alastair telling him he’d gained weight lately because of his new medication, but if this was his body after gaining weight, just how skinny had he been before?

And although Alastair tried to act casual, Thomas caught him staring at him too. Truth to be told, he was a little insecure about his body, and what Alastair would think of it. Thomas knew he was muscular, since he worked out so much, which he knew was considered desirable, but he often felt he was a bit too tall. Not to mention he hated the stretch marks that had appeared on his back, and worried what Alastair would think of those. His mother had freaked out the first time she’d seen them until she’d realized they were stretch marks. They were a faded pink now, although they used to be a bright red like wounds. Hopefully in time they’d fade to white. Of course, after three pregnancies, his mother had them too but everyone seemed to associate stretch marks with pregnancy when it was also completely normal to get them after gaining weight or growing very fast. Thomas sometimes wished he’d known that sooner.

‘My parents would often take me and my sisters swimming when I recovered from one of my fevers,’ Thomas said.

‘In the winter as well?’ Alastair asked. ‘Isn’t that cold?’

‘At the indoor pool,’ Thomas clarified. ‘I always had lots of fun there. There were water slides, a wave simulator bath, tropical plants to create a nice atmosphere. There was this one water slide that was in the dark and Barbara was scared of it so she always claimed I was too small for the water slide and wasn’t allowed to take it either.

Often when I was sick, it was something I looked forward to because I knew I could go to the pool when I got better. When I was older and no longer sick, I started swimming competitively. Didn’t you go swimming as a child?’

‘Not often,’ Alastair said. ‘Cordelia would go with Lucie and her parents sometimes.’

‘I remember getting these invites to classmates’ birthday parties. It’s a surprise what we’re doing, but bring your swimsuit,’ Thomas said. ‘Of course, I could only go when I was well enough, but it was a very common activity at my school.’

‘I was that child who never got invited. Which was fine, I didn’t really like being around other children anyway. My mother couldn’t swim, and my father didn’t really go have fun with us. I did take swimming lessons, passed my exams, but beyond that I didn’t really go swimming. My mother started taking classes not so long ago, though, so she’s learnt the basics. She found a class for adult women and even made some friends there.’

‘Maybe you should give it a chance,’ Thomas said. ‘Unfortunately, the pool I went to as a child closed. They built a mall there, I think. but I’m sure there are other pools I could take you someday.’

‘It’s not so bad,’ Alastair admitted. ‘Maybe if we survive this summer, I’ll take you up on that offer.’

Thomas felt himself become a little warm inside, despite the cold water. Here, spending time together in the lake and in the woods was nice, but Thomas wanted to show Alastair all his favorite places, go to the museum together, go swimming like he used to do. He wanted to introduce Alastair to his sisters, who would undoubtedly like him very much. He hoped they wouldn’t be too protective of him though, Thomas did not think Alastair would react well if Genie started threatening him. He made a mental note to send a warning to his sisters that there would be no threatening Alastair.

‘Do you play any sports?’ Thomas asked.

‘Currently not much beyond generally trying to stay active and taking very long walks,’ Alastair admitted. ‘Cordelia and I used to take dance classes together for several years, Father thought it important we learnt how to dance ballroom. The memory is a bit tainted because it was something he demanded of us, but truth to be told I did like dancing and I was quite good at it. We both were.’

‘Oh, that sounds nice,’ Thomas said. ‘I’ve always thought it would be nice to learn partner dancing, but I never got around to it. Besides, I’m a bit clumsy on my feet so I’d be stepping on my partner’s toes all the time.’

‘That doesn’t happen as often as people think,’ Alastair said. ‘I think there’s a dancing association at the university, so if you want to learn that might be a nice and affordable place to take classes. But you could also join a swimming team there if you’d prefer. Or both, but you’ll need to find time to study too.’

‘Is that something you struggled with?’ Thomas asked.

‘Not really. I had no social life beyond my ex boyfriend and I don’t need much time to study. Magic memory and all. But there were definitely a few students who were partying too much to keep up.’

‘I’m not really one for partying, so that won’t be a problem,’ Thomas admitted. ‘I didn’t realize there were so many options, all I heard about student life was either lots of partying or study until you drop.’

‘Oh no there are definitely options,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m just too antisocial for most of them. I don’t like being around people anyway. One on one is fine, but I’ve never liked groups. And I absolutely despite it when people are loud. What else do you like to do beside swimming?’

Thomas could recognize what Alastair described. He had always been shy as a child, and had never really grown over that. He liked being around people, but mostly in small groups.

‘I like music,’ Thomas said. ‘I play guitar, but I really like writing my own songs.’

He’d never told anyone that. He wasn’t sure why exactly. He’d started playing the guitar after growing over his sickness. He’d tried the saxophone before that when he was younger, but his frequent fevers made it difficult to keep up. To learn an instrument you had to practice daily, and that hadn’t worked out.

He’d started playing guitar at fourteen and he’d written lots of songs, most of which he’d discarded. He never believed they were any good, and he wasn’t very good at singing. He’d practiced, of course, and he knew how to pitch his voice, but he just didn’t sound that good or interesting. He could be a decent back up vocalist, he guessed, but then he’d need to find someone to actually sing his songs.

‘Really?’ Alastair asked. ‘What kind of songs?’

‘Oh, all sorts. Ballads, sad songs mostly, I guess. Love songs too. I’ve never told anyone before. They’re not good or anything.’

He remembered he’d written a very sappy, hopeless pining song not long after meeting Alastair. He was glad there was no remaining evidence of that ever happening, it was exactly the kind of thing Eugenia would use as blackmail. Which he guessed was why he’d never told Eugenia about his songs.

They reached the island in the middle of the lake, and sat down in the shallow water, a comfortable place to rest for a bit and talk. He could tell Alastair was getting tired, swimming was very different from walking or running and Alastair wasn’t used to it. Perhaps it was hard on his shoulder too.

‘You told no one? Really? Why?’ Alastair asked.

‘As I said, they’re not any good,’ Thomas admitted. ‘And I can’t sing well.’

‘Maybe I could sing them for you,’ Alastair said. ‘Although it’s been a while since I’ve really sung.’

‘You sing?’ Thomas asked. He wondered what Alastair’s voice would sound like when he sung.

‘I used to,’ Alastair said. ‘I played the piano too, growing up, but I haven’t played in years.’

‘Why did you stop?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair sighed. ‘I couldn’t find joy in playing music anymore. In anything really. Although I did listen to music a lot, and I do sing along occasionally. But apart from that… I just couldn’t bring myself to play anymore, it hurt too much. I wanted to get back to it, but so far I haven’t found that joy.’

That sounded sad. Would Thomas’ songs be able to cheer him up? Probably not, they were terrible. He would need some good music to play or sing to get back into it, not his hopeless attempts at song writing.

‘I hope you can,’ Thomas said. ‘I can’t imagine what it’s like to not be able to enjoy the things you used to.’

‘Well, sometimes interests change,’ Alastair said. ‘I’ve had a lot of odd interests that changed. But in this case… I want to be able to feel the joy I once felt. I want to play, and sing your songs and feel like myself again.’

Thomas wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with sharing any of his work, but if it would help Alastair then he would let him sing all of his songs.

‘Could you sing something? Now, I mean. If you want to, you don’t have to. I’m just really curious what you sound like.’

Thomas started rambling again, and Alastair silenced him by beginning to sing. The song would definitely sound better with accompanied by a guitar, but even on its own Alastair’s voice was beautiful. It was a bit lower than his speaking voice, but he seemed to have quite a range. Gentle, but firm and when he got farther into the song Thomas realized there was a lot of power behind Alastair’s voice. It was a romantic song he was singing, did this describe how Alastair felt about him? He didn’t catch everything, but some of the lyrics stuck with him.

Never opened myself this way.

Life is ours, we live it our way.

All these words I don’t just say

And nothing else matters

‘Trust I seek, and I find in you,’ Thomas repeated. ‘That sounds beautiful.’

Alastair smiled. ‘I do find trust in you. Even if it is something I still find difficult. I’m trying.’

‘What song is that?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair stared at him in shock. ‘You mean to tell me you don’t know this song? You can’t be serious.’

‘It sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t name it,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s Nothing else Matters by Metallica,’ Alastair said.

‘That does sounds familiar,’ Thomas admitted. ‘I’ve never listened much to Metallica.’

‘You should, their music is very good, and it’s very melodic for a metal band. That’s what I like the most, when music is both heavy and melodic.’

‘What other music do you like?’ Thomas asked.

‘Breaking Benjamin must be one of my favorite bands. You probably haven’t heard of them, they’re not very famous. They’re probably best described as alternative metal. Very angst heavy lyrics, things I can relate to. And I like Metallica, Skillet, Three Days Grace. Within Temptation and Nightwish occasionally. What do you listen to?’

‘I like Green Day,’ Thomas said. ‘And As It Is, which you might not know because they’re not very well known, but they’re a pop punk band.’

‘I don’t know As it Is. I do know Green Day though. I’ve always liked Boulevard of Broken Dreams.’

‘Me too,’ Thomas said. ‘But 21 guns is my favorite from Green Day.’

They talked some more about music, and Thomas made a note to listen to some of Alastair’s favorite songs when they got back. He hadn’t had the time or inspiration to write songs lately, with everything happening, but he wanted to write something for Alastair. If he ever found the time in between trying not to die.

Truth to be told, Thomas found it difficult to have people worry about him so much, risk themselves for his sake. He didn’t want to die and was grateful he had people who were willing to help him, but he hated how all this was because of him. He hated being taken care of, being someone’s burden. It was something Thomas had always struggled with. When his mother had quit her job because Thomas was sick so often it wasn’t doable for both his parents to work. Since his mother was a primary school teacher, it had made sense for her to quit working as his father made more money and worked more hours. When his sisters would come straight home after school to keep him company rather than spend time with their own friends. When his father would come home early as often as he could, passing on opportunities at work.

It wasn’t just that the amount of attention could be suffocating, it was because he didn’t want to be difficult, he didn’t want other people to change their life, their habits for him. But as a sick child, he’d had no choice but to let people take care of him. Everyone had had to adapt to his sickness and even in a loving family such as his own, it wasn’t easy to have a child who was ill so often. Sometimes Thomas feared he’d taken up too much attention and had taken that away from Barbara and Eugenia.

‘You’re thinking of something,’ Alastair said. ‘Something that is bothering you.’

‘It’s nothing,’ Thomas said.

It wouldn’t be fair to complain about his childhood to Alastair. Compared to what he had been through, Thomas had wanted for nothing.

‘It’s not nothing,’ Alastair said. ‘I can tell when you tense up, when you’re thinking of something hurtful. Is it something I did?’

‘No. You didn’t do anything wrong.’ Thomas brushed his hand across Alastair’s cheek. ‘You’re perfect.’

‘Then what is it?’ Alastair looked away. ‘Look, I know how difficult it is to talk about how you feel, how vulnerable it makes you feel. But I can tell when things are bothering you, I know when people are upset. If you don’t want to share, at least tell me you’d rather not talk about it. Because people always like to pretend they’re fine but they’re not and…’

Alastair didn’t finish his sentence, he seemed upset too now. Thomas felt horrible. He didn’t want Alastair to worry, he didn’t want to hurt him. It made sense Alastair could read people well. Thomas had always been good at reading people’s body language, but Alastair had had to deal with his father’s changing moods, anticipating them had to be how he’d survived. Of course people’s bad moods were stressful for him, because Alastair had learnt he’d get hurt when other people were stressed.

Perhaps it was better to tell, that might set Alastair’s mind at ease. Even if it was difficult, even if he did not quite understand why he felt this way.

‘I was thinking about how you’re all risking your life for me, and I find that difficult. I’ve never wanted to trouble others, I’ve never wanted to be a burden. But I also know I cannot do this without help. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you or to Cordelia or Lucie because of me.’

Alastair put his hand on Thomas’ cheek, wet from the lake water.

‘I understand. But none of this is your fault, Tom, and you’re not a burden.’

‘I’ve always felt like a burden,’ Thomas said softly. ‘I always needed to be taken care of because I was sick.’

‘Is it a burden when the people caring for you love you and gladly care for you?’ Alastair asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Thomas said. ‘With James and Matthew, I was so glad to find friends, people my own age. But James’ mother and Matthew’s mother are my mother’s best friends, so we already knew each other from a young age. We were very close when I was still a child and they would come by to keep me company when I was sick. I am grateful, but they learnt I needed to be protected and when I grew over my sickness, Matthew still believed I was meek and dependent and needed to be rescued from you. James wasn’t as bad, he never noticed I liked you because he was always reading. I think the reason we drifted apart a bit is because of that. I never dared tell them how I felt about you, and I don’t think they would have reacted well. And again, I feared my feelings would make me a burden. That was less of an issue with Lucie, so I think that’s why I’m now closer to her. It was never a problem to tell her I liked you, and that’s why she was the first person I told.’

‘I didn’t realize you’d drifted apart from them. At school, it was always the three of you,’ Alastair said.

‘True, and I still care about them, I really do. But I think they’re closer to each other than to me, and that made me feel out of place at times. I still see them and spend time with them, and we text often, but not as much as we used to. But that’s fine, I think it was for the best. I still have plenty of people around me, enough friends, and we probably work better with a little more distance anyway.’

‘I didn’t realize, that’s all,’ Alastair said. ‘Sometimes change is for the best. How are James and Matthew anyway?’

‘I haven’t contacted them a lot with everything happening, and the last few days I haven’t been able to reach them. But I’m not yet sure what to say when I do call them. Do I tell them about us? Or about what’s going on? Do I tell my sisters? I do not want anyone else to come here and put themselves in danger.’

‘I have not yet decided what I will tell my mother either,’ Alastair said. ‘I did tell her I liked you, before I realized you liked me as well. But the past few days I haven’t been able to reach her, or Risa. Wait a moment, you said you couldn’t reach James and Matthew.’

‘Nor my sisters,’ Thomas said. ‘And my father said he was unable to reach uncle Gabriel. I don’t think uncle Will has had any success calling uncle Jem or your father either. Which is odd. You’d think out of all these people, at least someone would pick up a phone.’

‘Or perhaps that is part of what Tatiana is doing,’ Alastair said. ‘Isolating us so we cannot call anyone for help.’

Thomas tried to think that through. If he were in Tatiana’s shoes, he definitely wouldn’t want them to be able to contact uncle Gabriel and aunt Cecily. Nor uncle Jem, he guessed. Matthew and James were no threat to her, nor were his sisters, so he wasn’t sure why they were unable to contact them. Nor did he suspect Alastair’s mother was a threat. Perhaps it was simply easier to cut them off from everyone.

‘That makes sense,’ Thomas said. ‘But if we can’t call them, how far away from the town and the forest would we have to be if we were to reach people again?’ Thomas wasn’t so sure it would be that simple though.

‘I’m not sure,’ Alastair said. ‘Perhaps it’s like the land in between, except bigger. Perhaps something Tatiana did will not only cut off our ability to contact people who aren’t here, but will also prevent us from leaving.’ He paused. ‘I assumed there would be no point in leaving, because whatever is happening to you would simply follow you wherever you go. But perhaps Tatiana does need you here.’

Thomas wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He hadn’t considered running, didn’t think there would be a point to it. How could you run from a powerful being? But perhaps Alastair had a point and he was running from Tatiana. Perhaps that powerful being would simply take Jesse back if Tatiana failed, and that would be it. The thought brought no comfort. He would never want Jesse to suffer. None of this was his fault either.

‘It makes me wonder why that being picked Jesse over me,’ Thomas said. ‘It must have liked Tatiana a lot better than my parents, and I think when Jesse died Tatiana already knew what was happening. I think she assumed I would be the one to die, and when Jesse died and I didn’t, she got mad with my father.

But wouldn’t it have made more sense to take me instead of Jesse? Since Tatiana knew more about the deal, knew about the creature, knew how to barter with it?’

Alastair grimaced. ‘No. I think that is exactly why it chose Jesse. I don’t think the thief of souls intended to keep Jesse forever. If it had taken you, your parents would have been heart broken, they would grieve you, they would have sustained a wound that would never heal. But they would not have tried to get you back, not at the cost of someone else’s life.

Tatiana, on the other hand, would do anything for her son, and seems to hate everyone else. It doesn’t matter to her that lots of people will die, souls forfeit, as long as she can have her son back. She knew what was going on, what would happen to her son. Perhaps she tried to appease it, to make sure you would be chosen and not Jesse. But that’s exactly why it chose Jesse. Because with Jesse dead, Tatiana would do anything to bring him back, and she would exchange your life for Jesse. And the thief of souls could have asked her for anything it wanted, anything else she would realistically be able to give her.’

Thomas stared at Alastair. Everything he said made perfect sense. He had been looking at this from the wrong angle, from his own perspective of someone who made decisions based on emotion, based on his love for the people around him. But the thief of souls wasn’t like that, he didn’t care for Tatiana just because she liked him better than his father did. He saw her as a tool he could use. He played a strategic game and souls were the prize.

‘Why now, though?’ Thomas asked. ‘Jesse has been dead for years. If Tatiana already knew what was happening, wouldn’t she have gotten him back sooner?’

‘I think the thief of souls must have demanded much from her,’ Alastair said. ‘He could ask for anything. Do any of you know what she’s been up to the past years?’

‘She moved away from London, left her house in a state of disrepair,’ Thomas said. ‘My grandfather was incredibly rich and Tatiana inherited lots of money, so she could afford to just move around and leave her father’s house.’

Thomas knew his father and uncle Gabriel had often wondered what to do with the money inherited from their father, money he’d earned through dark deals and exploitation. Money none of them deserved. But for uncle Gabriel and aunt Cecily the money had allowed them to hunt the supernatural, stop people like Benedict, since such line of work wasn’t exactly paid. His father had donated some of the money, but for them it had been convenient too since his illness meant he always needed someone around to take care of him.

‘Meaning, you don’t know where she’s been?’ Alastair asked. ‘I can’t imagine having so much money that you can just leave an entire house for several years without selling it. Honestly that should be illegal, considering how difficult it is for some people to even find a place to live.’

‘It was her father’s manor, had been in the family for a long time,’ Thomas said. ‘I don’t think she could have even considered selling it, it was very important to Benedict. But no, we don’t know where she’s been. My father and uncle Gabriel did try to reach out to her occasionally. At the very least they called her on her birthday, but she never picked up.’

‘So these past years, maybe she had to complete other tasks first, offer him other souls, anything he could have wanted. And at some point she must have captured Grace, which I imagine made completing his requests a lot easier.’

‘How long do you think Grace has been her prisoner?’ Thomas wondered. ‘I assumed it was a recent thing, what if she’s been with Tatiana for years?’

‘No idea,’ Alastair said. ‘Perhaps capturing Grace is what finally allowed her to win enough favor to get back Jesse’s soul. Whatever he wanted from her, it must have been easier with a siren under her control. But I think there’s still more she must do to bring him back to life. Perhaps that child that drowned was part of it too.’

‘And when Jesse lives, I die,’ Thomas concluded.

Thomas had no idea how to fix this. How to survive without sacrificing Jesse. He knew Lucie and Cordelia wanted to kill the thief of souls, but they didn’t even know what it was. Their attention had to be on Grace right now, if anyone knew more of Tatiana’s plans it had to be her.

‘We’ll get Grace’ skin,’ Alastair promised. ‘Tomorrow. And when she is free, she can tell us all she knows of Tatiana. There must be so much Grace knows.’

‘Will you be alright?’ Thomas said. ‘After this morning… will you feel up to it? I can’t imagine how exhausting that must have been. It’s fine if you need more rest.’

‘I hope so, but if not I can function pretty well while tired. At some point you get used to it. I have good days and bad days. Today was not so good, you’re right that I’m still very tired from this morning. Such breakdowns are always exhausting, that is not something I’ve gotten used to. I would go to sleep early, maybe take some melatonin, but I’ll only have nightmares. And we don’t have the kind of time to wait for me to recover from this morning, I’ll have to do with how I function tomorrow morning.’

Thomas considered for a moment, turning a little red before looking Alastair in the eyes. Thomas had always found Alastair’s eyes beautiful, big and so dark it was difficult to tell apart the iris and the pupil. He’d never quite understood the way people obsessed over blue or green eyes, described as sapphires and emeralds in many of Lucie’s books. Green and blue eyes didn’t even look like that. Light eyes might be less common than brown eyes, but Thomas had always found dark brown eyes combined with dark hair like Alastair’s far more striking.

‘Maybe I could sleep over,’ Thomas suggested. ‘I mean, do you think that would help?’

‘I don’t know if it would help with my nightmares, but I would certainly like it if you stayed with me,’ Alastair said. ‘I like to cuddle. It is very nice when you hold me, sensory wise. So, where are we sleeping? I think my bed is bigger, we could easily both fit in there.’

Thomas wondered what Alastair meant with that it was nice, sensory wise. It sounded like something Lucie, who was autistic, might say, but Alastair had not mentioned such a thing, had he?

‘Alright, then I’ll sleep over at your place,’ Thomas said. ‘And I’ll cuddle with you as much as you want. And when you have a nightmare, I’ll be there to remind you that you’re safe.’

[binniesthighs]

two tails | reader x minho |

Three 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x lee minho 

Genre: strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff 

Tags: neighbors au, comfort fic, catowner!minho, catowner!reader, author!reader, bestfriend!seungmin, floristnpunk!jisung, gradstudent!jeongin, agedup!skz, slow burn, plot driven, gradual romance, lil bit of angst, strained parental relationship, explicit language, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of previous kinda sad relationships 

Word count: 5.4k (y e e h a w) 

Tagging: @lauraneuuh​

Chapters 

P | ONE | TWO | THREE | ?

zeal noun 

: eagerness and ardent interest in the pursuit of something: fervor 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Seungmin never liked your cooking, or at least, he’d often mumble this into his spoon while beginning his second serving. He was probably just being nice, or respectful. Your best friend of four years had never been less. 

Aside from the fact the he had a 70 pound golden retriever, never had you once seen a strand of that golden hair cling to the cloth of his winter coats. In the autumn, he would drive you in his hand-me-down ‘91 Mitsubishi to the city where you would tutor the English students just so you wouldn’t have to bear the cold of the subway. In the summers he would toss soju down his throat with you, sitting on the carpet of your living room and turning his head to the side with a hand raised to hide his glass. In the spring, he would remember your birthday--several months before his--and take you to coffee shops and bookstores, then the grocery store (which he knew you hated) and would buy for you the most expensive beef he could find. 

You would cook the meat for the two of you, and he would say that he liked it...even if you had charred it black on the edges. 

Seungmin flicked at the little aluminum tab on his beer can while he watched you murder yet another plate of perfectly fine vegetables on your stovetop. 

“At least it smells nice.” You flipped the circle of white onion. 

“It does.” He returned, nonchalant, flicking the beer tab a little poink. 

“You’re being uncharacteristically quiet. Too tired to complain about those dicks from the marketing team? They put you on a shitty pitch again didn’t they?” 

“Every pitch is a shitty pitch there. God, you wouldn’t believe the kinds of slogans that they make me say sometimes. It’s humiliating.” 

“Hey, you’re the one that took the pay raise over that job at that high school.” 

“Well, you didn’t have rent staring you dead in the face and a dog that’s practically active and sentient enough to be a real child.” He slugged down a sip of his drink. “I’m a single father you know.” 

“As if!” You choked out your laughter. “Since when did you turn into Hyunjin? You were never one for dramatics anyway.” 

“Go get your vegetables, they’ll burn.” He nodded his head to the stove. The thing was, they were already burnt. 

You salvaged what you could of the vegetables then placed them over your rice balls (not intended to be balls in the first place) and the chicken strips which had undoubtedly been seasoned just a little too much. You slid the ceramic bowl in front of him. At least it was steaming. That was a good sign. 

Seungmin nodded a little in thanks, then let out a less than obvious sigh before taking his first bite. 

“Spicy...but good.” 

The way that his breath sounded thin made it convincing enough to you that it wasn’t just “spicy.” 

He scrunched up his face in that adorably puppy-like way that you had long gotten used to. 

“Really. Tell me. It isn’t the pitches. Don’t pretend like I can’t read you.” 

Your best friend squeezed his eyes shut with a rather generous slug of his beer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Whaaaat?” You whined a little while opening up your own can. “Oh my god. It’s that girl from the art division. She has a boyfriend doesn’t she? Dammit.” 

“No.” Your friend drew the disdain in his eyes up to you from the chicken that had made his nose start to run. He wiped at it quickly. 

“I hope it’s not my mother that’s getting to you. She’s too damn nosy for her own good and twice as cocky as she should be. Don’t listen to her. What did she tell you anyway?” 

Seungmin poked at his food with his fork then twisted a crispy-tipped red pepper. “Have you talked to him again?”

“--Minho?”

You shied at the memory of meeting him on his morning run two days prior. He would go out at nearly 8:00 on the dot every morning, just when the sun started to peek into the dewy pink and blue mornings.

“You should put on a sweater if you’re going to get up this early for those plants of yours. Don’t want you catching a cold.”

“Yes.” You answered your friend. A tiny ache pinged at your chest--and it wasn’t the kind that felt all twisted. “He asked me to watch the meteor shower with him this weekend. I hope I can cook something edible for him.”

Seungmin’s knee bounced, “Aren’t you at least at little suspicious of him?”

“Suspicious? Why would I be?”

“You hardly even know anything about him, or where he came from, what he does for a living--”

“--Now you’re starting to sound like my mother Seung. Relax. Besides, sometimes it doesn’t take much to feel...comfortable around a person. I mean, look at us! Soju nights started like, three weeks after we met. And I do know where he works. He works for a company that makes windows; fancy ones.” 

“Windows?” He cocked a brow. 

“He did say that it was kind of boring...” 

“I just--” Your friend sighed out, resting anxious hands on his knees. Here he was again, being nice and respectful, like always. “--You could get hurt if you’re not careful.” 

“What?”

“I’m saying, don’t get your hopes up.” 

“Geez Seung...” Your voice trailed off with a different pain in your chest. This was the kind that twisted. 

His expression softened, and he lent a hand to your shoulder, lingering, squeezing lightly. “Your mom...she told me to look after you...not like I do that already with you falling all over yourself and burning things...I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“Hm. Thanks.” 

“You’re also miserable to deal with when you’re sad. You make me blow my grocery budget with how much frickin’ ice cream and freezer tater tots you force me to get.” 

“You like those tater tots too though.” 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Bomi purred in your lap swaddled into a little ball of white, orange, black and brown. She was napping, or rather, trying to nap with the way that her little cat-shaped eyes blinked slowly. You tried your best to soak every little moment of it up: you knew that with her, it would be fleeting. There was something supremely calming about being close to your little furball like this. After all the love that you poured over her in the form of useless cat toys and new cat food every week, this somehow made it all worth it. 

You tapped lightly at your keyboard, not too harshly, just lightly enough so that you wouldn’t startle your sleeping cat. The tips of your toes were cold, but you didn’t dare to move to grab a blanket to ruin the moment. Outside, a light spring rain befell on your small cement patio. Droplets of the warm showers patted at the roof of your home softly. 

Your eyes had grown tired and dry at this late hour, but the end of the chapter was near. One more time you hovered your mouse over the little notification bar, clicking at it for that one last push of motivation: 

~ 

Bomi needs to quit MESSING AROUND. Blaze is right in front of her!!! Ahhhh I want them to get together soooo bad 

Is Herbie okay?? Poor bb, its so cute how we would do anything for Bomi. 

Bomi: 

Blaze: 

*now kiss* 

Are we really getting to the end of Book 1??? This has been such an amazing story N/n, I always look forward to your updates <3 they make my Thursdays hehe 

I can feel like something big and bad is coming...oh no...I hope that Blaze and Bomi make it through  

~ 

A thankful little chuckle hummed on your lips, then you pressed enter to start a new paragraph. 

“Oh Bomi,” You exhaled, “If only Blaze knew how you felt too.” 

Chapter 27 

...The group journeyed through the cavern with flickering white flames dancing and casting shadows on the stone walls dripping in stalactites. Bomi held on to the hilt of her sword tighter with a sense of dread creeping up her throat. Blaze looked onward, much as he had been doing these days. 

His leg was wrapped in a bloodied bandage: a reminder of the battle won against the Boar in Hilgram. He had jumped in front of her as he had countless times before. 

“Hello??” Blaze’s voice echoed against the long and winding chambers of the cave. In his tone he was confident, but his shoulders still shook with an uncertainty. 

Herbie’s little hedgehog feet patted the damp floor, and he looked up at his Princess with fear in his soft black eyes. The little velvet banner wrapped around his body had been torn and tattered from one too many battles. 

Had it been darker, Bomi wondered if she had reached out for Blaze’s hand to find in him. She shook her head with her resolve, eyes painfully shut. It was only in the darkness that she allowed herself to want for him. 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Today must be one of those spring-summer days.

Your warbled reflection chased after you in the blue glass of the university’s library windows. You had hoped that no one was on the other side watching you as you wrinkled up your nose to look like one of those devilish gargoyles that you had been writing of the night before. From the inside, rows and rows of books were lined up perfectly, however there were almost no students inside. It always did make you a little sad how few students would be there when you clocked in for your mandatory office hours.

Spring-summer days meant that the businesswomen on the sidewalks had exchanged with trousers with flowing skirts and little clicky ballet flats and each businessman had his tie and collar tugged down. There was a comforting warmth to the spring air that reminded you of your own college days when you and your friends--long gone now--had stayed up late to study, then would scour the buzzing streets for snacks. Things were much simplier then.

At the library’s entrance, budding tulips and geraniums of light purple hues were greeted by round bumblebees. Had the city not been as loud as it was, you could nearly hear the cicadas in the park on the east edge of the shining silver building.

You bowed slightly to the attendant at the desk who always would smile at you with adorable smiling eyes to match. She would often wear earrings of strange shapes that you had never seen before. She wore a lanyard too that had little cat paw prints decorating it; it was because of this you knew she was someone you could trust.

“Are you having a nice week?” You said to her customarily.

“Oh, I am. It’s always the same around here. My daughter will be having her baby soon! Sometimes I think that I’m more excited than she is.”

“You’ll have to tell me when that happens so I can bring her a gift, okay?”

The attendant smiled warmly, and nodded you off with a little oh, you don’t have to.

“Remember your key card this time?” She watched as you jingled around your own keys with the obsessive amount of plastic and silicon keychains.

You tsked. It seemed like nearly everyone in your life had now known how forgetful you tended to be sometimes.

“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be over there.”

Once more the two of you exchanged little bows and you made your way over to the back of the four storied library with the atrium of trees in between. There was a marble fountain encircled by the trees that had little oval shaped leaves. Two tiny birds, all black, bounced from branch to branch. It was your secret, but you had written about that fountain many times in your writing, but you were the only one who knew that it was real.

You tapped the reader to hear that familiar do-do doot along with the flash of the green lock. As always, the study room was a bit messy with eraser shavings sprinkled about and the odd dry marker laying next to the trashcan where someone had tried to toss it in, but had missed. The minute hand on the wall clock scooted right on to the 12.

“Are you busy?” That fluff on white hair peeked into your study room just like clockwork.

“For my favorite student? Do you even have to ask?”

Jeongin, the oldest and most attentive student in your class hopped in with his adorably boy-ish charm. Regardless of the fact that he was in the last year of his grad degree, it was impossible for him to look that old. You didn’t have the heart to tell him, but he technically shouldn’t have been in your class for undergrads, but you weren’t going to stop him.

“Why’d you decide to take this class anyway?” You would ask him.

He’d answer, “For fun.” with that cute little smile of his.

“I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“I just got here.” You pulled out a seat for him.

“Oh. Good. I was wondering if you could proof read my short story again. I’m having trouble with the ending. I just don’t think I understand all the way how to make it full circle like you said in lecture.”

He unzipped his leather backpack: obviously a gift from someone in his family that must have thought it would make him look his age. It didn’t. What didn’t help further was how he had adorned it with all kinds of keychains; much like your own keys. It was because of this that you knew he was someone you could trust.

His manuscript already had dozens of scribbles in his own handwriting with tons of question marks riddling the margins. 

“Let me take a look.”

You skimmed the pages of the short story--one which you had already read the week prior--for all of his new edits. The notes made it a bit hard to read, but you were used to how he would make a mess of his papers now. He leaned in close to you with glossy eyes that might have even twinkled a little like a cartoon. Both of his knees bounced furiously while he watched you read, and would look from the paper, to your face, then back to the paper, then back to your face...

“Is-is it good? Better?”

Jeongin had written a love story. His first one that you had known of. It was about a boy and a girl who had met on an airplane, and had been seated together. The two of them found out that they had shared so much about their two lives without ever meeting until this very moment. They had realized they went to the same high school, worked in the same building, and were travelling for the same reason: to meet up with someone that they had once loved. It was beautiful, tragic, and in some ways, familiar.

“I think that it’s wonderful Jeongin. The edits that you made to it from last week really help with the narrative flow as well as the vertical plot. You’re really good at asking the deeper questions behind the piece like “why are they really there,” and “why is it important that they are there.” All you need to do is tie it up.” 

“But howwww?” Jeongin slumped in his wheely chair. “What should I say?” 

“Well...” You tapped your pen to your lip. “The ending scene is when they land at the airport right? Why don’t you have your main character say something that calls back to all of their similarities and makes it seem like they’ve known eachother all along?” 

“But I don’t want it to seem like they’re going to forget eachother.” 

“They won’t. You established that they’ve both found something different than what they were looking for in the first place.” 

Your student’s face tangled up into concentrated knots and he puffed those thin strands of bleached white hair away from his eyes. 

“I could say...‘see you at home’? Or...maybe that’s too cheesy--” 

“--No it’s not! If you like it, I think that it also fits the story well. Its like, now they understand, and they’ve got something in eachother now that they hadn’t had before; also juxtaposing with your themes of travelling to make a reference to home.” 

“Damn, you’re much better at this kind of stuff than I am...” Jeongin wrote down the new ending on his print out. 

“Its just...what I like to do.” 

“I’m glad I came.” He grinned out with his mischievous and trademark smile. “How’s your story going by the way? Almost finished?” 

“Oh...” 

A heat rose in your cheeks. You had decided to tell Jeongin about Princess Bomi a few weeks back, but you had neglected to tell him exactly what the story was about. That was a secret better kept to yourself. 

“Its...good. I think. My readers seem to really like it.” 

“Maybe you’ll let me read it someday. I bet there would be tons of other people who would like to read it too, you know, outside of the internet.” 

“That’s what I’ve been told...” Hyunjin’s urgings echoed in your head. “Maybe...” Your eyes wandered to those scribblings of his. “How about we make a deal?” 

“What kind of deal?” 

“Once we get both of our stories sorted, lets submit them together. I’m sure people would like to read yours too.” 

“Mine?!” Your adorable student’s face flushed as deeply pink as the sweater he wore. “Oh no, no no no no no.” 

“I’m telling you it’s good! Its relatable, raw, well written. It never hurts to try. How about submitting it for the literary journal they do at the end of the semester?” 

“You mean the one that all the arts majors read and fuckin’ eviscerate?? Hell no.” 

“Hey, I could get eviscerated too by my chief editor.” 

Jeongin gulped with his terrified, brown, cartoon-character glistening eyes boring holes into his manuscript. 

You sang, “~Wanna go down together~?” 

“A-as long as we’re going down together...I guess it’s worth a shot.” 

“Alright then!!” 

He made a little sound of disgust, then shoved his papers back into his much-too-old-for-him bag. “That was all I needed to ask you for. Thank you.” He bowed with respect. “I won’t be bothering you for too long today.” 

“You wrote a good story Jeongin.” 

“Mm. Thank you.” His smile turned into a tiny flustered line. 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

STUPID NEW CAT FOOD. AGAIN. 

In one hand, you held the crinkled up grocery list with angry doodles of your cat folded into the corners of the page. You didn’t quite know if cats had eyebrows like the ones you had drawn onto your cat’s smug face, but you were for certain that this cat must’ve had them...and they were angry. 

Bomi had selfishly decided at the end of your week that she no longer liked the last brand of cat food that you had found on the shelves of the grocery store. It was the brand stored next to the one that you had nearly concussed Minho with. 

You were at your wits end. There must have been something wrong with your cat--to hell with her being a picky eater. Maybe she really was just a little alien inside there. A little alien that hated cat food. The image of you sitting at your dining table across from Bomi eating two plates of people food crossed your mind. She picked up the fork with her white paw and dabbed at her mouth with a cloth napkin. The idea didn’t seem the most out of reach. 

In your other hand was your phone opened to the maps app with the small blue dot leading you to the specialty pet store. 

“Damn spoiled, stuck up, good for nothing, pain in my as--” 

“Hey! Blossom??” 

Your head whipped around so fast you cracked the bones of your neck with a startling pop. You rubbed at your neck to ease the pain. 

“You okay?” 

At first you figured you must have dreamt him up in your neck-induced-pain. You cursed at your overactive imagination, still just as strong as it was when you had been small. 

Blaze in the flesh he was alllll the way from his battered Converse to his stupidly handsome curly hair. 

You laughed out incredulously with a hand still glued to the back of your neck. 

“Didn’t think that I would be seeing you around here again. Or at least, I was kind of hoping that I would.” 

He marched right up to you with that same smile you had pictured on Princess Bomi’s companion countless times before. Today he wore a leather jacket over the arms that you knew were covered in all kinds of flowers and vines. It hadn’t quite hit you yet that he had said he was hoping to see you. 

“Sorry if I startled you. I was just...really surprised.” 

“You’re fine, it’s fine.” 

You neck didn’t tell you it was fine. 

“What are you doing around here?” 

“Pet store.” Was all you could get out. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you, but for someone who worked at a flower shop, he did end up smelling an awful lot like flowers. It was a sweet aroma, much like your garden. 

“Ahh, I just got off.” 

You walked on, also not noticing that he had started to follow you a couple steps behind. 

“I realized I didn’t get your name last time.” 

“Oh. It’s Y/n.” 

He hummed with a smirk. “I do kinda like Blossom more.” He crammed his hands into his pants pockets with a wistful little sigh. “Pretty nickname for someone as pretty as yourself.” 

“Psh. Stop.” You had said it sarcastically, but you didn’t intend for your heart to skip as harshly as it did when he had said so. 

“You’ve got a pet then? Dog? Cat?” 

“Cat. Just one.” 

“I wish I could take care of a pet like that. Don’t think I would be too good at it though. I see myself as more of a plant person. They’re quiet, don’t do too much, and they sort of love you back in their own way.” 

“How's that?” 

“By growing. And flowering. Changing colors and looking good in your windowsill. Nothing too crazy.” 

“I...guess I can see what you mean.” 

He flicked at the black hoop pierced into his lip in the way that you certainly hadn’t forgotten; and you were one for forgetting much. 

“Mind if I go in with you? I don’t have a whole lot going on.” 

Jisung. You had also remembered his name. He carried Blaze with him in the way that he had that fiery glint in his eye like he knew he was getting away with something. He was brash and forward, and charming as all hell. The sunset of blood orange and cotton candy pink seemed to melt into his shoulders where he stood before you in the golden hour of the evening. A yellow carnation was tucked into the pocket of his jacket. 

“You don’t have to...” 

He had already made up his mind, and swung open the door to the pet shop neighboring the floral shop. You didn’t know how you had missed it. 

The squawking of birds chimed with the bells hung over the shop door. 

“You coming?” He held it open for you. 

You sheepishly entered before him, nearly tripping on the little incline to the entrance and catching yourself three seconds before disaster. 

Jisung prompted, “Lead the way.” 

Normally you would have been concerned over the cleanliness of the store, but that seemed insignificant compared to the way that he looked around all in his Blaze-like wonder. He widened his eyes at the rows of fish tanks and twiddled with the little feather cat toys at the ends of the isles. 

Granted, he seemed much more immersed in the kinds of aquatic plants and moss balls that they had rather than the cute bunnies and mice, but still, you couldn’t help but shy away when he caught your glances. 

“Glad that I joined ya Blossom.” 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

There was something about Minho that felt like a lullaby. He wore a lavender colored sweater when he arrived at your doorstep: of course it was pooling into paws at his hands as always. The collar dipped deep enough for you to see the tops of his collarbones, and they were gorgeous and curved. His eyes wrinkled a little under his wire framed glasses when he would smile: that of which would also look like the little grin of a bunny. Effortlessly his brown hair kissed his forehead. 

He would speak softly and carefully, and listen to everything that you had said to him as if it was the most important thing in the world. His feet were too big for your spare pair of house slippers and he had a tiny hole in his khaki pants right by the waistline. Minho greeted Bomi with a tiny “aigoo” and she let him sweep her up into his arms where he bounced her lightly. She would never let you do that. Traitor. 

“Your home is very...you.” He had complimented. You had no idea what that meant. 

His lips were pink and glossy with drips of that peach soju that you had bought in the hopes that he would like it. It turned out that it was his favorite flavor. 

You wanted so badly to kiss the peachy flavor off of those lips. 

He had laughed a little at your array of cat-related home decor, laughing the most at your dish towels that had two fat cats on them that looked like chefs. He said that he had seen a movie once and the characters reminded him of that. 

The two of you sat outside on your patio on the wire chairs that would imprint designs into the back of your legs. The air mixed with the smell of your citronella candle and the scent of the roasted duck that you had attempted to make for him. You really shouldn’t have tried to make something for the first time when it was also his first time coming over. 

Maybe he was just being nice, but he had said it tasted good. 

It did not taste good, but rather harshly of salt and too much rosemary. 

Bomi rubbed at his legs under the table and even hiked herself up on two feet to peek into his lap. As much as it hurt to see your traitorous cat act this way, it was because of this that you knew he was someone that you could trust. Minho gave her head scratches and insisted to help you with the dishes--a mistake on his part. It took all of two minutes before you had a mishap with the detachable sink head, and soaked through his sweater. 

“Maybe I just shouldn’t trust you with water then?” He chuckled while dabbing away at the fabric. 

“That probably would be best.” 

Minho was a lullaby in the way that he laid down next to you on that quilt you had made in a crafting class some years ago. All of the patches were disjointed the the color scheme made very little sense, but it was stull functional. He kept his hands folded to his chest with reverence. His chest rose and fell calmly, and his body heat floated over to you. His presence was something familiar and still something that you couldn’t place. 

“Are you getting tired?” He asked you gently. 

You lied, “No, just resting my eyes.” 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have had that much soju then.” He joked into the open air.  

“How much longer?” 

“At least thirty more minutes.” 

He was so warm. Warmer than any chill of the spring night. 

First you would have kissed the peachy flavor on his lips. Then you would have cuddled all up into that lavender sweater which you imagined to be even softer than cat’s fur--or rather--it looked like it could have been. 

“Do you know any constellations?” Minho pointed up to the sky. 

“Not really.” 

“Well, that one is Ursa Major...and over there...that’s Leo. Can you see that it sort of looks like a triangle?” 

“Yes.” You had said, but really you didn’t have a clue, you liked it more hearing him talk about them. “Where did you learn about constellations?” 

“Long time ago. I think it was in school, but, that was so, so long ago.” 

The cool grass under the quilt rustled when he had leaned back up to sit, then dragged quilt attempt #2 over your body and his. 

“It was getting a little cold.” He quietly announced. 

His simple action of doing just that heated up your whole body now knowing that the two of you were trapped together, inches apart. 

Minho tucked his arms to prop up his head. “Thank you for cooking for me. I haven’t had someone other than my mother cook like that for me in a long while.”��

“I’m sorry...I know that it was pretty inedible--” 

“--And thank you for allowing me to come over too. I...realize...I don’t really know what I’m doing that well. I kind of invited myself...I hope that I’m not putting pressure on you or anything...” 

“--Doing what well?” Your heart leapt into your throat. 

“I just haven’t done this in a really long time.” 

This. 

What the hell was “this?” 

“I’m not following...” 

“Letting myself do something fun. Something nice and relaxing.” 

 You had formed a painful little “Oh.” on your lips. Your idea of this was different from his after all. 

“--Something nice and relaxing with you.” 

Another “Oh.” formed, but this one was a thankful one. 

“Can I tell you something?” Minho’s voice was barely in a whisper. 

“What is it?” You looked over at him and he was wrapped in the navy blue light of the night. You could have sworn that you could see the faintest inkling of stars in his eyes. 

He looked back at you in earnest. “I’ve been...scared, too, since moving back out here.” 

“W-why?” 

“There was something in me that was telling me that moving out here wouldn’t fix everything, and that I would be stuck forever on those things that happened, and the things that made me unhappy.” 

“Minho...what are you saying?” 

“-Got my heart broken. Back then. As cliché as the sounds.” He laughed, and it even sounded a twinge embarrassed. “I ran away from it to here. I had figured that it would give me time to get it all back together again.”  

“I-I’m so sorry.” 

“Running is good and all when you can physically remove yourself from what’s chasing you, but some things...” 

Your chest felt heavy. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.” 

“You do?” 

The first summer cicadas had started their nighttime chant, and their hisses ebbed and flowed like sea waves. 

“I feel like...these expectations that my family has of me, my mother...I can’t ever escape them. They’re always there and burned into my head. I think of them even when I don’t want to: get a better job that “contributes”, get married, have grandkids...” 

You paused with your own eyes cast up to the sky. The massive expanse seemed unfathomable. 

“Why is it that we can’t ever be happy doing the things that are supposed to make us happy?” 

The first meteor flew past your eyes with the speed of light, barely slow enough for you to catch it. 

The second was a bit slower, and traced after it a millisecond of white spectral dust. 

“Did you see that??” Without thinking, you poked once at Minho’s arm. 

You couldn’t see, but he had grinned with a weak smile. “I did.” 

All at once, the sky was illuminated with brilliant streaks of light and their white hot heads that would fade and dissapear just as quickly as they arrived. They tore through the sky with astonishing speed and you traced the outline of each line as fast as you could. 

“There’s so many.” You wondered aloud. 

Under the warmth of the haphazard blanket, fingers twisted into yours: careful and tentative, soft and curious.   

Minho breathed out, “I feel pretty happy right now.” 

[flowers-of-io]

@eri-223​ you brought it upon yourself, now I won’t shut up c:

OKAY SO

I can’t really draw neat straight lines between the two, but there’s so much aesthetic similarity to me, particularly with Toland and the Hive-Ascendancy thing. Maybe it’s just me dying for the vibes (or loving POTO in general since I was 9), but it struck me today how Eris/Toland--when it’s made a Working ship--is basically everything Christine/Erik is not. There is so much to be said about Christine/Erik alone, but to me it’s an epitome of why gothic-novel-esque dynamics don’t really work in the long run when they don’t move past being just Gothic and Tragic. And hear me out. A goodhearted, elfin woman at her vulnerable point (grief over father) meets a honey-voiced stranger and has this secret thing with him, this music they share in the dead of night, and it’s intoxicating because music *is* her passion (and something she has deep emotions over in itself, the thing that is most hers in the world) and it’s secret, and a whole other world to what she’s facing in the daytime. The mystery is intriguing, and that’s intoxicating too. And there’s an uncomfortable power imbalance but it doesn’t bother you just yet, because there isn’t really any attraction between the two--not in the romantic-as-in-love sense at least, rather this romantic-as-in-romanticism pull all dark beautiful secret things have.

And here we can shout a fucking thank you at Erik for completely ruining that beauty by being an absolute creep. But Chrissie doesn’t know that yet. And so he leads her deep down into the dark, into his world of darkness and secrecy and yet twisted beauty, and she is living the mystery now, she’s in this nighttime world they would share in secret. And she’s close enough to take a peek behind the mask, something she was so violently curious about and attracted to, a glance into the dark abyss of his soul that is so intriguing. And so she does peek, and what she finds is terrifying rot.

And this, THIS is the best moment of the entire thing to me. This story could be well off without Raoul (whom I deeply love and cherish but he ruins the gothic) because he adds this romantic tension of a love triangle (which I absolutely loathe because ugh. love triangles.) to what could have been a tale of a girl torn between the world of day and night rather than two men who each love her in a different way. There’s so much of Persephone-sque struggle in Christine’s soul that has been shunned by the story imo, and would have made the whole thing better in the long run (and maybe less grossly-abusive on Erik’s part).

So let’s circle back to Toland, another pale, bony, possibly disfigured brunet in a dark coat with a living room full of skulls and candles (the vibes, huh. he probably owned a boat and a horse too). If we take Eris/Toland as starting off before the Hellmouth (I’m really starting to tentatively test my ground on this hhhng), it feels like the same story slightly to the left. Granted, Eris has more agency, but there’s still a huge power imbalance in her and Eriana coming to Toland--an exiled genius|madman with an evil black crow (Guren) perching on his shoulder--and asking him for help, laying their and their team’s lives at his feet - him, who could probably kill them in seventeen different yet equally fancy ways were he more invested! And there is so much darkness here already because how dark it must have been in Eris’ soul to agree on this revenge fantasy, what an abyss Eriana’s eyes must have been hiding; how desperate they must have been to come to him, to even consider this, to choose a possibility of painful, screaming agony in the Hellmouth over the ache they were feeling now. And so there’s vulnerability, too, in a way - because they’re desperate, because they’re hurting, because everything has been taken from them and they have nothing else to do but this ridiculous, mad plan. And oh he can abuse this void, he can make them do whatever he wants and they’d do it gladly, and I have a feeling both Eris and Eriana are aware of that.

And so they work, in secret, cracking secrets of the Hive, tasting the rot of the forbidden fruit, hiding from the daylight with their dark, heretic, nighttime folly. I think there is a threshold at wherever it is they are meeting--be it a room or a house, Eriana’s kitchen or Toland’s disturbing “lab”--in the doorway, between the bright but empty world of patrols and strikes and dead friends and this horrid, twisted, yet fascinating realm of promised vengeance. And I think Eris learns, hungry for secrets, hungry perhaps for Toland’s eyes on her because all dark beautiful secret things have a pull, and she can’t tell if she’s more drunk on the adventure, or the heresy they’re so blatantly committing, or him. And maybe he reciprocates in his own twisted way, maybe they talk or kiss over the parchment pages, and she cannot tell--she cannot tell if his eyes are truly for her or the Hive, the mystery, the thing they’re doing. I’m thinking of what you wrote, how “he wanted Ascendance as badly as she wanted him”. But despite that--or maybe because of it--she allows herself to be led deep down into the dark, into his world of darkness and secrecy and yet twisted beauty, and she is living the mystery now, she’s in this nighttime world they would share in secret. Is it the Hellmouth? Maybe, though I think it’s a process that spans between their secret studies of the Hive and the midst of their descent, when Vell is dead and maybe they’re all doomed, and Toland’s eyes twinkle in the dark and it’s such beautiful madness she cannot help staring. And the checkpoint has come, time to show cards--and she’s close enough to take a peek behind the mask, something she was so violently curious about and attracted to, a glance into the dark abyss of his soul that was so intriguing. And so she does peek, and what she finds is terrifying rot.

I think this is Ir Yut, or maybe a little bit earlier, but nevertheless the bubble bursts and Eris is left in the dark alone and betrayed. That’s of little concern, of course, when the Hive is hunting you down and all you hear is your friends’ dying screams, but it still hurts, it’s still bitter, it’s still so, so wrong. I like to think he comes to teach her then, maybe give her the journals, and it’s a whirlwind of madness and horror and fury and gore, but he’s whatever comfort she can hope for at this point. It’s twisted, it’s awful, it’s dark-gothic rotten, it’s as wrong and horrid as Erik/Christine is as a whole.

But then they’re given the chance Erik/Christine never got. They’re allowed to outgrow the rot. There’s so much dysfunctionality and disturb going on in most gothic-esque “love” stories because it’s not love, it’s attraction taken for a spin and often grossly abused. Love is growth. I like to think of what must have been going on in Eris’ head (and Toland’s too, perhaps, though I doubt he had one at that point) when they were exchanging the letters, the dearest Eris right next to did you watch me carve out each eye; now that she’s wiser, and scarred, and not so stupid anymore--but there’s still that dark pull she can’t help, now even scarier than before that she knows him for what he really is, now that she’s seen the rot. There’s so much hurt to be outgrown, so much betrayal, but she finds he’s yet again whatever comfort she can hope for (that entry *is* called A Light In The Darkness, huh). I could wax poetic about this whole process but I think you captured it so well in STM I don’t have much else to add.

I wanted to throw quotes into it but couldn’t quite fit them into this, uh, essay (which I didn’t absolutely re-read), and I guess Music of the Night would apply here but it’s ripe with uncomfortable sexual tension?? And aside from that (which is in its entirety a trip) just consider these ah

this whole moment

also this

He'll always be there singing songs in my head  Is this Eris in the letters phase? maybe. I performed a vibe check and it showed positive

Wandering Child for how unhealthy-twisted and beautiful it is (ignore Raoul, I have no metaphor for him in this au)

For either way you choose, you cannot win  It’s just a good quote y’all

Farewell my fallen idol and false friend / We had such hopes, and now those hopes are shattered 

Angel of Music, you deceived me / I gave you my mind blindly  (HOW SHE WHISPERS THAT LAST PART IN THE MOVIE OK)

Stranger than you dreamt it  now you’re stranded in the Hellmouth good job

What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn / Beyond the point of no return

The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn

Down that path into darkness deep as hell  but Toland smiles while he sings this

And of course the classic,  And in this labyrinth where night is blind / The Phantom of the Opera is here inside my mind

Wow! I didn’t even get to the Dreaming City! It’s way more vague than the whole Eris/Toland thing because of course ships take up 80% of my brainspace but idk I just find it so incredibly fitting when it comes to paralleling Savathun/Dul Incaru terrorising the Dreaming City with what Erik does to the opera. Like, everybody knows he’s There but no one can do anything about it, he sends vague threats and kills people but nobody can catch him, and the place is just a giant playground for him to have fun and achieve his personal goals in. And whatever the hell is going on in Masquerade, like

Masquerade! Seething shadows breathing lies Masquerade! You can fool any friend who ever knew you Masquerade! Leering satyrs, peering eyes Masquerade! Run and hide, but a face will still pursue you

wow that sure is subtle. Seething shadows breathing lies, huh. Run and hide, but a face will still pursue you :) And then he crashes the party in a fucking Red Death costume. If this doesn’t have huge Dul Incaru/Siren of Riven energy I don’t know what has.

And of course the shitshow only starts when we kill Riven but the seeds have been planted long, long ago. If you listen closely, you can hear Petra screaming in confusion somewhere under box five.

I know most of this second part is a stretch, BUT! this is my au. And for the record, I know there are very mixed feeling about the 2004 POTO movie but to me personally it was a formative experience, first watched on a very crappy TV in music class at the age of 9 and not even in its entirety, but I was already captivated and shaken to the core, and there’s still, after all those years, something that screams at my soul when I hear the first notes.

And, as a treat for those who suffered with me until the end of this essay,