#and every person who kept information about her own damn body from her

[tilseptemberends]

I think Nyx should be an only child. Feyre literally died giving birth to him there is no way that didn't affect her attitude toward pregnancy. I don't think she'd ever resent Nyx for it but I'll be shocked if she doesn't end up being terrified of getting pregnant again considering how traumatic the scene was. Then again it's SJM and having a woman express an opinion like that is not very likely.

idk, there’s just something that irks me about nesta changing her and feyre’s bodies. why is it the women that have to change? why is it the girls in their twenties that have to irrevocably alter their body to accommodate their centuries old husband’s? why didn’t sjm make cassian and rhys the ones to change their genetics so any future children don’t have wings that endanger their mothers? they sacrificed their bodies for what, their husband’s dreams of having flying babies? not to mention, feyre didn’t consent to it, what if she never wants to give birth to a baby with wings again? what if it triggers her?

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The Executioner's Song: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: As the newly formed Scarlet Witch, you're not letting anyone get in your way to true power, not even Dean. The power you feel is like no other, and not even Cain is a match for you. Sure is cute to watch him try, though.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Dean informs Cas they'll meet him in Illinois at a motel where he's at. It's a long drive that you'd rather not be taking with the Winchesters but it's better than stealing a car or being cramped on a bus. Cas takes his time in meeting you and when he does, his eyes immediately look you over. Not only are your clothes different from what you usually wear, but there's something about your demeanor that's different. Not only did Cain kill Tommy but he's killed dozens and left them in unmarked graves off the beaten path.

What the hell is he doing?

"I'm sorry I couldn't bring better news, Dean."

"It's not your fault, Cas," Dean sighs.

Sam gets the sheriff on the phone in regards to the case and Cas looks at you in concern.

"How are you doing?"

"I've honestly never been better," you grin.

Red magic dances around both palms and Cas' entire face falls at this realization.

"You have magic again. That's chaos magic."

"And loving every minute of it," you grin.

"You know why we're hunting Cain, so why are you here?"

"What, like I have to tell you everything I do? Let's not forget who kept a secret agenda when you were working with Crowley, hm?"

"Yes, look how well that turned out. I let the Leviathans loose."

"Yeah, you did," you smirk, "but I'm more dangerous than a Leviathan." You walk closer to Cas and get in his personal space. "Stay out of my way and we won't have a problem."

"Thanks," Sam says and hangs up the phone. "Okay, the sheriff gave me a few more names and some preliminary IDs on the bodies."

"And?"

"It seems to fit Cas' story. I mean, there's no way to tell the relation to Cain, obviously, but he's wiping out entire families, one after another."

"Okay, who's next? Is he done with the Tollivers?"

"I think so. I mean, Leon didn't have any siblings or any other children I can see, and Tommy was never married so I--" Sam continues to look and curses. "Damn it."

"What?"

"Tommy did have a son who lives with his mother in Ohio. Austin Reynolds, twelve years old."

"Is the kid still alive?"

Sam pulls up a Facebook account for the mother where she posts pictures of her and her kid.

"As of an hour ago, yeah. His other updated her status. It's a kid. You don't really think Cain would kill him, do you?"

"Yes, he would," Cas nods.

"There were old men in those graves, Sam, and women. You heard Cas. It's a fire sale. Everyone must go. We gotta get to Ohio."

"Then what? What do you plan on doing?"

"I'll do what I have to do. I'll kill Cain."

"Yes, let's do that. Let's find Cain and kill him," you say with a smile.

All three men look at you weirdly.

"You want to kill Cain to help me?"

"Like I'm doing this for you," you scoff. "Can needs to die and I'm going to help. I'll be in the car."

You grab your jacket and go to the car, leaving the men inside the motel room. Dean waits until the door closes to openly talk about you. He doesn't want you to know that he's still trying to look for the cure for you. Whether or not you want it, you're going to get it. He's not going to let you ruin your life over something like the Mark.

"She's getting worse, Cas. I didn't realize she could have magic. Her soul is gone."

"I didn't see this coming. The effect of the Mark on her must be more powerful than I thought. Let me check on her soul." He raises his hand and passes it over Dean's head, and a white light shines from his palm. "Her soul still isn't ready. Even if there is a sliver of darkness, her magic and the Mark will feed that darkness until her entire soul is black again. We have to keep waiting."

Dean sighs in frustration. He didn't want to hear that news. It's going to be a lot harder to get your soul inside of you now that you have magic. You'll put up a helluva fight for it.

"You know she's not planning anything good, right?"

"Yeah but we have to take her with us or I have a feeling people will die," Sam says. "One problem with killing Cain. How are you going to put him down?"

"Well, there's only one thing that can kill him. The Blade."

"Dean, wielding the Blade against Cain himself... Win or lose, you may never come back from that fight."

"I know," Dean sighs, "but I won't be alone. I don't know what Y/N is planning but she wants Cain dead and having a witch on my side will definitely help. There's only one person who knows where the Blade is."

Dean takes out his phone and calls Crowley.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't--"

"Cain's back," Dean cuts him off. "He's gone dark and I need the Blade."

"Why would I do that for you?"

"Because you have as much reason to want Cain off the board as anyone. Cain has a kill list and you're on it." Sam and Cas stay quiet knowing Dean is lying to him. "What do you say, Crowley? You in?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll text you the location." Sam, Dean, and Cas finally come out of the motel room and pile into the car. "Surprised you're still here."

"Like I said before, Cain needs to die and I'm just here to provide help. I reckon you'll fuck it up somehow."

You travel to Ohio to the farm you know where Austin is living at. The mother isn't home for unknown reasons but Austin is in the barn to pass the time until it's time to go to bed.

"Is the kid here?" Dean asks.

"He's upstairs inside the barn. He's playing with a basketball," Cas answers.

"Cain will strike soon. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, but soon. When he does..."

"Yeah, I got it," Sam sighs. "You charge in with the Blade with Y/N. What about the kid? We just watch and wait until Cain attacks? I thought this was a rescue mission."

"We save the kid after Cain shows. We know what Cain's after. That's our only advantage. We want to trap Cain, we use it."

"Using a twelve-year-old as bait? I can't believe what I'm hearing," Sam scoffs.

"Neither can I."

You turn to see Crowley approaching the small group. You immediately see red at seeing his fat smug face. 

"What's the matter, Crowley? Did you suddenly grow a conscience? Too good to put a minor in danger?" Dean asks.

"Don't give a damn about the kid. I'm talking about the risk to us."

"There is no us. You're here for one reason. That's to hand me the Blade."

"Yeah, about that. Seeing as this is shaping up to be one of those two-step capture-then-kill kind of deals, I think your buddies would agree it's better to keep the Blade out of both your hands until we've got Cain sewn up, just to be safe. Now, back to this plan of yours."

You push Sam and Dean out of the way and storm over to Crowley. His eyes widen the second he sees red magic pouring out of your hands. You hold him in place and get all up in his personal space.

"I was lenient with you before but now, I don't give a rat's ass if you die or not. Fuck us over even slightly and I'll destroy you from the inside out. Got it?"

Crowley nods and you remove the hold you have on him. Dean and Sam are so concerned with Austin that you don't care if he is used as bait. Sam thought of the not-so-brilliant plan of having Crowley make an illusion of Austin so that he could get him and his mom out of the state and far from Cain. Everyone agrees to that but you don't care as long as you get Cain's head on a stick.

He's coming soon, you can feel it. He's getting closer with every second that passes. Crowley agrees to get the Blade but he won't hand it over until Cain is trapped. Cas went with Crowley to make sure he wasn't lying about helping.

"So, if this works and we capture Cain, then what?" Sam asks.

You look at the brothers who are talking on the side. You're close enough to hear their conversation.

"We'll cross that bridge when we--if we come to it." Dean pauses. "You know last week, I've always known this job would be the death of me. I knew I'd go out swinging. I'm at peace with that. I just didn't realize the time would come so soon, you know, like right now. I'm scared, Sam."

You groan loudly and turn to the brothers with an emotionless face.

"If you're so scared, go run to Mommy. Or I can give you something to be scared about." You walk over to Dean. "Man up, take that Blade, and ram it into his chest."

"If you have the Mark, why don't you kill him?"

"You know, I would, but watching this Mark destroy you is just too much fun," you smile but then lose it seconds later. "Quit being a baby and do your damn job."

Cain comes an hour later searching for Austin. The illusion Crowley made is inside the barn playing basketball. You, Sam, and Dean are waiting in the shadows. The brothers made a big devil's trap in the middle of the barn and covered it with dirt and hay so that Cain wouldn't be suspicious when he walked in. Cain knocks over something on the ground causing Austin to stop playing ball.

"Is someone there?" Austin asks and looks around the barn.

"Hello, Austin."

Austin turns and sees Cain standing in the doorway of the barn.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to kill you."

Cain pulls a knife from under his coat but Cas jumps in to save the illusion.

"No, you won't."

"You can't stop me."

Cas raises his hand toward Cain with bright blue eyes. Light emanates from his palm at the same time the wind picks up inside the barn. Cain's hair blows back a little but isn't fazed by Cas' powers. Cain points his knife at Cas and flicks it to the right, causing Cas' angel blade to fly out of his hand. He flicks the knife to the left and Cas flies through the air to the other side of the barn, crashing into the side of a pickup truck.

"Don't, please," Austin says flatly.

Cain walks over to Austin and stabs him in the stomach, and Austin disappears in a cloud of purple smoke.

"Illusion spell. That's 18th-century magic." Crowley walks into the barn. "If I had to hazard a guess, Rune of Amaranth."

"Good eye. Something I picked up from my mother," he smirks.

"I know you fear me. I can only assume..." Cain kicks some of the dirt away from the floor to reveal the devil's trap he walked into. "Clever. It won't hold me for long, you know."

"It won't need to."

x

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[nephytale]

ϟϟ

Send me ϟ for my muse to tell yours the story behind one of their scars.

The stars in the sky were clearly visible thanks to the fact that there was not a single cloud in the city. The sea was calm, serene, on that spring night while a soft cool breeze hit their faces. There, on the coast, on the small patch of sand that was surrounded by rock formations that led to the sea, there was a bonfire. Their ship was hidden on a nearby island, but that didn't stop the pirates from deciding to have a good time. Since had already crossed paths a couple of times with Senritsu and noticing that she was pleasant company, she invited her to spend a night by the bonfire, with snacks and drinks, while they laughed and shared stories. Since the doctor had joined the crew, the others understood that they should not be too loud and scandalous, and she had emphasized it again when she alerted them of the woman's invitation with a keen ear.

They were calm, happy, enjoying a great time all together. Even if they weren't all sitting around the campfire, and everyone was enjoying it in their own way, you could feel the togetherness of the people.

Ryoko laughed softly. She turned her back to Senritsu, and lifted her blouse - she lifted it so high that it reached above her shoulders, there was no shame in showing off her body - On her lower back, a tattoo could be seen that consisted of two sais crossed in the shape of X. And above them, a red dragon ascended along her entire spine until it reached the base of her neck.

"My most significant scars are under these tattoos, I decided to transform a couple of bad experiences into art, how does it look?" Holding her blouse up with one hand, she used the other to point to the pair of sais tattooed on her lower back. "This was the first…" Ryoko paused, then readjusted her blouse and sit again in front of the campfire

"My best childhood friend, turns out to be the son of the most powerful pirate that sails the seas. He never really did anything wrong, but just because he carried his father's blood, the navy has treated him like an evil-born demon forever, we were thick as thieves, or rather, I was the tick that stuck to him to survive" She paused and just a few seconds later, let out a good-natured laugh. "We became friends over time… we were almost like siblings…" There was a small sound of someone clearing her throat and Ryoko turned to look at her doctor, who was simply smiling in an exaggeratedly innocent way to be real.

"Well, siblings was not the word that defined us… but we only discovered it when we met again some time later. Anyway, getting to the important thing. Shortly after our paths divided, the navy had captured me. They wanted information about him. And I preferred to die rather than give them information. They took me to the most disgusting cells you could imagine. They didn't feed me, they kept me chained, there was a damn leak that echoed in the place, the only sound I heard for days. That was driving me crazy. Until one day they changed my room. There, two executioners and a lie detector began to ask me questions, and I lied to protect him. For every lie I told, the executioners gave me a whip on the lower back. The punishment was so much, so much the pain, that my bones had been exposed. Their target, and I quote their words that I will never forget 'We are going to hit you every time you lie, until you tell the truth, we will make you unable to walk anymore only with our whips, or until you faint from the pain. You choose.' And so I spent a couple of days. At least there they fed me and gave me water, they needed me lucid to answer their questions. Although my legs had already stopped working, I waited patiently for them to lower their guard and managed to escape from there, crawling until I finally found a very kind person who brought a doctor to help me" She smiled, honestly and softly. She was actually fine, leaving aside the permanent lower back pain it caused her.

Sipping some of her tea, she let out a soft sigh "But we've already talked too much about me, please tell me about yourself, do you have any scars to tell the story?"

{ @hunting-songs }

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Pedantic, chapter two - a Malevolent AU

Arthur Lester is the best IT architect in the world, and the reason Carcosa, Inc. has its fingers in every pie. Government, medical, everyone in the world uses its systems. Arthur is also going blind and nearly gives up… until a deeply annoying cybersecurity programmer prods him into trying something new.

Chapter Two: It’s too much trust with too little information.

AO3

----------

The alarm was bad, and he felt bad.

Good morning, Arthur, said Cassilda, responding to his consciousness.

Damnable consciousness. Nobody needed it. Arthur grunted.

Do you wish for coffee?

Coffee; his grandmother would have lost her mind to see Arthur drinking it now instead of tea, but years working in Italy and then in San Francisco had made him something of a coffee fanatic. “Yes.”

He lay still while the smell filled his massive penthouse. Open concept taken to extremes, this place was one enormous square with specially coated glass floor to ceiling on all sides, so he could see everything and not be seen. The only actual opacity was around the bathroom, and while Arthur had still been able to see, that column of darkness in the middle of his precious, fading view was an affront.

He’d needed to see as much as he could, everything, everywhere, all the time.

It was pointless now, though. At night, he could no longer see, not even the nearest city lights. It was darkness. In day, it was blurr.

This disease wasn’t fully understood. It was genetic. Arthur’s family had handed it to succeeding generations like a toxic heirloom for hundreds of years. The doctors (Hastur ensured he had the best, no matter what country of origin) told him he was one of twelve known cases in the world.

The upshot of which meant that going blind happened to many people, but doing it like this had no cure.

Optical implants did not help; something was interfering with the actual signals in his brain. A full eye transplant did not help; poor Zhao had gone through that in Taiwan, but because the cause was somewhere else in the body, her new eyes still went dark.

Arthur knew he didn’t have much time left being able to do this all on his own. He’d been fighting since he was seventeen, doing everything he could to maintain his ability to see. The focus paid off, and the drive. He was fine, financially. He could retire right now, if he wanted to—as one of the best systems architects in the entire world, the jewel of Carcosa, Inc., he’d been paid very well.

But Arthur didn’t want to retire.

He would be making these systems even if he hadn’t been paid. He had to; he was driven, focused. Obsessed. He needed to keep working, creating, crafting better and better ways to handle the massive amount of data passing through Carcosa’s servers.

Damn near every country that could afford it used Play (a silly OS name, but Arthur liked it because it implied things like a closed structure, heavy editing, and trustworthy intention from beginning to end). It was flexible enough and secure enough for both military and political needs. Excellent for education and medical systems both. A person’s entire life was safe within Play.

(And he had said absolutely no to any lesser version of it being available for “just folks.” It was the full version or nothing. There would be no bastardized, trimmed down, pitifully gutted version of his masterpiece, thank you very much.)

He loved making things that just worked. Interfaces that were never confusing. He loved restraining and properly utilizing AI, loved tweaking those tiny, barely noticeable details that kept his GUI beautiful and sleek and made everyone who used it feel safe and well-regarded.

Arthur always made sure it met every damned security protocol. It wasn’t like he didn’t care about security. He just lacked Doe’s crystal ball or captured pixies or whatever the hell he used to predict whatever was coming down the pike.

Doe. John. He still didn’t know what to do about this bet. He rolled over and hid his face in the pillow.

Coffee’s ready, Arthur.

She made it sound divine.

He checked his feed as he staggered into the kitchen area (an island with a tiny stovetop and two refrigerated drawers—someone with the money for a penthouse like this was expected to eat out more than in) and listened to notifications and messages as he indulged.

Praise, mostly, of course. The new system had slid into place perfectly without disrupting anyone’s work-flow (which was his design ), and security was already reporting a significant decline of bad actors. Two countries had already needed Lullaby to save themselves from being digitally invaded.

Arthur checked. Yep, they’d invaded each other with malicious code. Unreal.

The last email was from Hastur. All it said was, Well done. Let’s talk about your next project.

There wouldn’t be one, no matter what John Doe said.

Arthur was young. He knew this. Thirty-four was hardly retirement age, especially when he didn’t want to, but… it wasn’t really an option, was it?

He’d been trying to work with Cassilda to code without being able to see, and… he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. It was trying to make music while deaf. It was trying to paint a portrait while colorblind. He could see what he wanted in his head, understand how to achieve it, but on the bad days…

On the bad days, he squinted an inch away from the screen, unable to make anything out at all.

Arthur switched off his feed and pulled up some old classic panel shows instead. A little David Mitchell ranting—beloved but long since deceased—could always get him in a good mood.

#

The commute was dull. His car drove itself. Arthur refused to engage with Doe.

Boring.

More congratulations as he got into the office, which was to be expected. He smiled, shook hands, took it as best he could, and finally retreated to his personal office space.

Glass, all around. Of course. And he could see… colors. Some shapes. The world made Impressionist, but he would not give up this hard-won office any more than he would his penthouse. Damn it. He’d cling to it as long as he could.

Hastur was calling.

Arthur sighed. “Pull up the video.” Because Hastur… Hastur really liked to see him, whether or not Arthur could see him back.

The three-dimensional image appeared over Arthur’s desk, full-size, beaming down from on high, and Arthur gave it his best smile. “Good to see you, sir.”

Even with fading vision, he could tell Hastur was having a great time. Blue sky rose behind him, and he was framed by figures in slinky gold. Faint music wafted through—strings, some instrumental version of classical music, Arthur thought by the Beastie Boys. And Hastur himself…

The old man was always a vision. Handsome, preened in that particular way only the very rich could be, he claimed to understand Arthur because of his own special needs: Hastur had lost his arms and legs as a soldier fighting in the war for Ythill. His disabilities, however, could be fixed with technology, and Hastur had gone hard.

Very few humans had the required intelligence and coordination to manage more than four limbs. Hastur managed ten: eight bionic tentacles below the waist, and a mere humble two above. He’d struck Arthur like some kind of wild, ancient god from the moment Hastur had recruited him; something out of myths and legends, who’d built an incredible company fulfilling incredible needs like a deity’s blessing.

Right now, Arthur could see several of the bionic limbs moving, doing who knew what off screen; Hastur was always multitasking. “Arthur. Brilliant. I have been instructed to give you presidential thanks.”

“Presidential? Which?”

Hastur smiled. “Several. It seems you’ve already stopped multiple ransomware attempts. You’ve done it again. You’re a boon to this company, Arthur.”

Relief. He would go out on a high note. “Thank you. Thank you, sir.” Arthur had not admitted he was going to quit after this. He had phrased it as taking vacation time.

Hastur knew, though. “Your next project.”

“Hastur, we… I told you I need a break.”

Hastur knew. “I know. You deserve vacation, and the rolled over days give you a while. But I want to know your next plan. Where can Carcosa be improved?”

And Arthur knew what he was doing. Trying to get him hooked on an idea, a project, a challenge—knowing all too well that the moment Arthur got truly invested, he could lose months in the planning and programming and execution. It was like blinders. It was like being driven by a vengeful muse.

And Arthur knew he couldn’t pull it off. There would be more errors, possibly dangerous ones like today. He couldn’t. “Hastur, we…”

Even from here, the old man’s face was hopeful, warm. Even if his eyes were like knives.

Arthur hated to disappoint him. He swallowed. “I’ll have an answer when I get back from vacation. As we discussed.”

“Yes, of course,” said Hastur, who clearly did not want to wait at all. “In the meantime, think of whatever you need for your new project, and I can supply it.”

The pressure was heavy. He owed Hastur everything. They both knew it. Arthur squirmed. “I haven’t taken a vacation in four years, sir.” Since his eyes began to really degenerate, and Zhao’s transplant had failed. Time off felt dangerously wasteful.

Hastur sighed. “Of course, Arthur. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you, sir.”

And then Arthur had to smile and nod through twenty-five minutes of business gossip and stocks and purchasing opportunities and business rivals.

It was fine. He didn’t have to respond—just listen.

All the while, Hastur’s limbs worked, mixing drinks for his guests, doing who knew what with his contracts and his followers. The man never did just one thing at a time.

Arthur’s phone buzzed. Cassilda read it off: Gonna answer me, coward?

That asshole Doe! Why did he always have to be so damned aggressive?

But was he?

Was it… humor, again? Abrasive, like a dog that always bites when playing, but… “Never a day in my life,” Arthur answered, murmuring.

“I knew you’d agree,” said Hastur, who was talking about short selling.

Then take the bet. Coward.

Arthur considered.

“This will allow us to expand,” said Hastur. “The Mnomquah moon base first, obviously. But if we can get Play to work for the Martian colony…”

An enormous challenge. So far, it had been impossible to achieve fast, secure connectivity between Mars and Earth because, you know, space. “It seems risky,” said Arthur to John.

“But a risk worth the reward,” said Hastur.

Don’t take it and you lose a chance at continuing the thing that gives you joy, said the voice in his head. Take it, and you risk nothing.

“I risk failing. That’s loss of hope,” said Arthur.

“Oh, son, not at all,” said Hastur lightly. “If it fails, you will try again.”

So then you only lose the thing you already fucking threw away, said John Doe with the gentle delivery of a linebacker. But at least you tried.

Arthur wanted to argue with them both, but one of them was actually right. He was giving up. Throwing hope away. “I guess it comes down to choosing to have more hope, then?”

Now you’re getting it.

“Now, you’re getting it,” said Hastur in eerie approximation of that digitized voice. He leaned in, and Arthur had the impression he was being studied. “I hope this isn’t a repeat of that moment of weakness two years ago.”

Two years ago, Arthur had considered quitting. Considered leaving and enjoying the world while he could still see it. Maybe going nuts and taking one of the ridiculously expensive civilian trips to the Martian Aihai base, or something.

Hastur had convinced him not to do it. To spend what time he had left creating instead, building his legacy—and Arthur didn’t mind that. This was what he loved, and he suspected he’d only have lasted a week without architecting something, anyway. (He’d had the thought of completely redesigning the entire Aihai base just out of twitchy need, and it made him laugh.)

Still. Hastur would push him to do something he didn’t want to do if he admitted how he felt right now, and Arthur did not like to be pushed. “No, sir,” he lied, knowing Cassilda would understand sir meant absolutely not John Doe.

Fuck!!!

Arthur jumped. The reader had been interpreted that as a yell.

Exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, Cassilda helpfully read off.

Hastur seemed to be studying him again. Maybe his lie hadn’t been good enough.

Sorry. Spilled coffee approximately the temperature of the fucking sun all over hell.

Arthur’s lips twitched. “Are you all right?”

“Only if you are. You’re the soul of this company, Arthur,” said Hastur.

“What, not the heart, too?” Arthur teased.

“A heart without a soul is dead and unbeating. I need you, Arthur. Your innovation.”

It’s on my lap, not my chest. Weirdo.

How could this completely busted three-way conversation make him want to laugh when he really wanted to cry. “Sir, I…”

“You’re worrying me a little. In the wake of such a success you should be happier.”

Arthur sighed. “I just don’t know if I can do this.”

Both the other two were briefly silent.

“You will,” said Hastur, and it sounded almost like a threat.

You know what? Maybe not. But maybe you can. And I wanna be there either way.

“Why?” said Arthur.

“I believe I’ve already answered that,” said Hastur, low.

Maybe I don’t want to see the most brilliant man I’ve ever tangled with give up without a fight.

“I…” whispered Arthur, unsure whom he was responding to.

“You know what? You’re right, Arthur,” said Hastur. “You need a break. You’re burned out. I’ll have Kayne set up a vacation for you.”

Oh, he did not want that. “Sir, with all due respect, I can do it myself.”

“Nonsense. And put more on your clearly overburdened plate? You’re a tender soul, Arthur. I will see you taken care of.”

Arthur sighed. It wasn’t as if he had to do whatever bonzo-loco coo-coo-manic thing Kayne suggested. The man was just so fucking hard to say no to. “Sir…”

“No, no, I’ve taken enough of your time. Go take your break. I look forward to seeing you revived and ready to innovate.” Hastur toasted him with a weirdly shimmering gold drink.

“Thank you, sir. Have a good day.” He made the hand gesture to shut the call off.

Arthur slumped in his seat with a moan. This was going to be so hard. How the hell could he get Hastur to understand? Hastur had plucked him from obscurity when he was fifteen, based entirely on a project Arthur built for a contest to redesign the local waste facility’s system. He’d believed in Arthur. Always supported him. How could—

Still haven’t answered me. Coward.

“Still thinking. Prick.”

I await your graciousness’s response with eagerness, said the reader with none of the sarcasm that Doe surely intended.

Arthur snorted. “You’re serious about this?”

Completely.

Was there really anything to lose?

More pain to gain, maybe. A second loss of hope.

But… he would have tried. Surely that mattered. To be able to enter full darkness with no regrets…

Arthur took a deep breath. “All right, Doe. You’re on.”

John. And fuck yeah.

“John.”

Took you long enough, Just Arthur.

John Doe may be a bitey dog, but he wasn’t, maybe, a mean one. “I’ll let you know what the project will be. Do we need a contract, or something?”

If you want. I don’t feel like I need to be protected against you. You’ve got a good rep.

John didn’t have enough of a rep for Arthur to make that guess regarding him. “I’ll let you know.”

I’ll be waiting.

It was time to make a call.

#

It hadn’t been a bad breakup. It really hadn’t. Parker had never been pushy, even when Arthur was at his worst. They just… hadn’t worked as lovers.

They were better friends. And Arthur didn’t have a lot of those.

He usually didn’t call for business, though. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Parker sounded surprised. It was only about five in the afternoon in San Fran, and he was probably still at work. “Everything okay?”

“That obvious I need something, huh?”

Parker’s chair creaked as he leaned back. Arthur could imagine it all too well—his office, papered in clues and letters and reports and photos, analog to the core because he believed seeing it all jogged the human brain in a way digital renditions didn’t. “You’re not in the middle of a project, which is when you usually call to bitch. Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Arthur said, smiling a little.

“It’s not the weekend, which is also when you usually call after you’ve had a bunch to drink alone,” said Parker.

“Hey, I’m not always alone,” Arthur protested.

Parker ignored that lie. “So what’s up?”

“Can you look into someone for me?”

Another creak as Parker leaned forward. “Professionally or personally?”

“Parker, what the hell does that mean?”

“I mean do you want to date the guy, or is this a business venture?”

“What the hell difference does it make?”

“One means I tell you anything I can find about the guy. The other means I elaborate on his resume.”

This was about trust. It had to be personal. “I’m not dating anybody, but I want the former. I’m giving this guy access to my code as I write it, Parker.”

Parker understood that. “Shit. You sure you’re not dating him?”

“I’ve never even met him. He lives in New York City.”

Another creak. “Okay. I’ll do it. Name?”

“John Doe. Head of cybersecurity for Carcosa.”

Parker paused. “You realize I won’t be able to learn a lot about a guy who’s that into security.”

“Just everything you can. He came out of nowhere a year ago. That’s not good enough.”

“All right. Yeah, I can do this. When do you need it?”

“ASAP. I’m paying your expedited rate.”

“Arthur, you don’t gotta pay me nothing.”

“Double negative. So we agree.”

“Arthur.”

“I’m paying you. Shut up.”

“Fine.” Parker’s voice betrayed his smile. “ASAP.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

They said their goodbyes and Arthur got to work, answering questions from the press, turning down interviews (he always did), choosing charities to put money into, choosing schools to fund for their IT programs.

His legacy. He knew it mattered. One such program had given him everything he now had.

The time passed slowly; it always did, after a project launched, and no matter how tired he was, he hated the sluggishness of downtime. He handled office requests, signed off on a few smaller projects still under his mantle, and by the time he was done with all of that, he knew what his next project would be.

A new idea always felt so damn good. Now he had to wait for Parker to do his own magic.

------

CHAPTER THREE

[thecorpseswallower]

IV. Ulfr

In the dim light of siege fires and a small glowing orb of his own conjuration, Ulfr attempted to steady his hand.

As their cart rumbled away from Ys, he sat boxed in on every side by his possessions. His penmanship would appear to anyone else to have suffered little under the conditions, but the way his ink blotted and smeared when the cart hit an ill-placed rock bothered him. Instinctively, he thought to reach for another page— but stopped, remembered the situation at hand, and kept writing.

The main body of the note was penned upon the night of Yesenia’s Conveyance. He had left blank spaces to fill in as needed; a very peculiar and direct instruction of hers, and those gaps had seemed an ominous threat ever since he put them to the paper. The words surrounding them teemed with terrible possibilities, as the proverbial coin flip of the world cartwheeled through the air that night.

Though, even given all the pieces, he doubted that he would have ever put them together to form this picture

There was nothing Yesenia— this Yesenia, the one that sat before him with her head in her paws— could have done to lessen the sting of their loss. He knew that this pain was as fresh and raw in her heart as it was his own. There would be no use raging against the injustice of it all to a woman who had even less forewarning than himself. Thus was the nature of time travel; that those who came back to foretell the worst would always still be blindsided by it in the moment.

The letter read:

Lady Siobhán,

I am writing to inform you of our current situation. The exact nature of our location and the circumstances surrounding this event cannot be disclosed at the present time. When such information is available, and Gods willing I am alive to report upon it, I will personally advise you in detail of these events.

I am                to inform you that your children, young Lord Alphonse and Lady Medb Ivars, are                  

The city of Ys has been                 . I will seek some means for us to communicate in greater detail soon. This is my last correspondence from Ys. My sincerest apologies for the obscure nature of this letter. Our enemies are upon our heels, as always. I know these words may not bring much comfort to a mother's heart, but know that we are doing all we can for the care of your children.

Is mise, le meas,

Ulfr.

Though it lightened his heart to write words such as ‘glad’ and ‘alive’ in those hollow spaces, knowing that the fate of the twins balanced upon such a precarious ledge that night made him wonder about the world that had not been. What would have led him to penning a death notice instead of a cautiously hopeful missive? Would saving the city from a siege result in their death— and what of Magnolia's demise? Would one have to fall regardless of how the cards shuffled?

Yesenia talked about the universe like a sheet of fabric on a loom. Snapping just one thread could disrupt the pattern throughout countless generations of weft. What pattern did this weave, then?

As he considered how best to describe the fate of Ys while remaining diplomatic, Ulfr became increasingly aware of Marciano's unease. The man had not spoken a single word since leaving the city’s borders, but the fury that seethed from him hung in the air like a choking miasma.

It was unclear what had happened at the moment of Magnolia’s demise. The Words she had spoken had been strange to even Ulfr’s ears. What had become of her body was also uncertain, as they had fled too quickly to retrieve her. He knew her to be dead, as questing towards her mind felt like reaching into a hole much deeper and more cavernous than he anticipated— but beyond that, who could say.

“Stop the cart,” Marciano demanded.

No one acknowledged him.

Ulfr put his stick to parchment again;

The city of Ys has been compromised. I will seek some means for us to communicate—

“Stop the damned cart!” Marciano shouted, rising to his feet.

Lorna pulled up on the reigns, jostling their belongings as their horse, Aonbharr, came to a whinnying halt. She looked back at him, incredulous.

“What?” She demanded.

“I’m going back."

“The fuck you are.” Lorna passed the reins to Talfryn as she twisted at the waist, placing an elbow atop the crates behind her. Aonbharr resumed her trot cautiously. “What could you possibly get out of going back in there?”

“Marciano…” Medb’s voice broke on his name.

She and Emil were squeezed into the open space near the end of the cart. The Scholars had arrived at the palace just in time to see Azar speeding away on horseback, and Alphonse just barely able to keep his seat behind him, clinging to the Mau’s shirt with a terrified expression. The other two had also acquired steeds, though the horses were unruly and looked too expensive to steal. They had let the beasts go and settled for the slow, plodding cart instead, following in the wake of Llamrei’s furious charge north.

"It's suicide to go back in there now," Medb pleaded. "Why not wait until—"

"Why not wait? Why head north at all?" He snapped back. "Without her, what are we doing this for? We have no stake in Asgard's war, so why should they open their doors to us now?"

Lorna said, "So you want to fight Arcadia, then? Muster our forces, turn around and reduce Ys to a crater? For what?"

"I don't give a damn about Ys, nor Arcadia. They sought the boy and his whore, not us. She should've never—"

"Mind your words," Lorna warned.

“She died for nothing! This entire damned continent has been nothing but hostile to us, and now she’s dead. And for what, Lorna? For an accusation that’s damned reasonable I’d say, considering the circumstances.”

“She died protecting us!” Lorna erupted, thumping a fist against the wagon. “To protect two innocent boys! You want to spit on that by going back in there?”

"Of course not!”

“Then why—”

“I want to bring her back!” Marciano declared. After a breath, he added, “To Scholomance. To the Isle. She deserves that much.”

The squeaking of wagon wheels filled the silence.

Yesenia broke their stalemate not with a shout, but a whisper. “He does have a point… Returning to Scholomance.” She lifted her head. “Or to Cockaigne. And Raetia. We should alert Tartessos’ neighbours.”

“I don’t give a damn about—”

“And I don’t care,” Yesenia stressed, “What you feel about this situation. They need to know. They are still our allies, and Ys’ allies besides. We must get a message to them, and it must be through our words over those of Arcadia. After that, you may fuck off to wherever you like.”

The Empire would be glad to bend the ear of anyone with a less-than-favourable impression of the Scholars already. Having those few but powerful nations on their side could help box Arcadia in; Cockaigne was o the west of Tartessos, capping off the coastline, Raetia to the south, and Andlangr to the north.

“You would have to go through Cockaigne anyway,” she went on to reason. Scholomance was far beyond the western borders of any extant nation, beyond even the wastes of Víðbláinn. Voyages by ship were still perilous, but Cockaigne was the closest port, and She regularly saw their vessels docking there to ferry prospective mages to the Isle. “I could head to Raetia, since I’m on good terms with their Council.”

Ulfr stilled his stylus.

“It would be wise to go now, before we pass into northern lands. And I might join you.”

Talfryn shouted at him; Medb and Yesenia spoke over each other, one urging him not to go and the other accepting his aid. Marciano seemed relieved, but his expression shifted to panic as the cart was pulled to yet another swift stop and he was thrown forward, barely catching himself on the railing.

Ulfr’s bats chittered in distress. He put a hand atop their covered cage.

“You’re sure that’s a good idea?” Lorna asked him, leaning close so they could speak privately.

He nodded. “I’m sure. Take care of my things in the meanwhile; you are to be the Master of Scrolls in my absence.”

“Oh… A promotion.” She smiled warmly, her head pillowed on folded arms. “Not exactly how I would’ve liked it to happen, though. What are you planning?”

“I can’t tell you now, but later, I swear it.”

He took a small cloth from his writing bag, wiped down the stylus, and capped the ink bottle. After rolling the letter and tying it shut with a length of waxed twine, he handed it to Lorna.

“Later.” She affirmed, slipping the letter into her shift.

She then stood to address the others; “Right— he’s going with you. Yesenia needs someone to be her eyes if you’re cutting through the forest. I am Master of Scrolls, effective immediately; Talfryn, Medb, Emil, we are continuing north. Marci—” she looked at him, her expression stern, “Don’t get yourself killed. She might not even be there. Head to Cockaigne when you’re done and tell them only what we know to be true. Rest assured, I will find out if you didn’t.”

He dipped his head, a gesture somewhere between a nod and a bow. “Yes my Lady. Thank you.”

“Talfryn and I will Convey to the three of you in about a week to get abreast of the situation. If something changes, reach out to either of us first.”

Yesenia reached to her side for the Morning Star which typically sat there, and, not finding it, patted blindly at the seat beside her.

Medb spotted it within a pile of boxes and dug it out, then handed it over. “You’re really leaving?” The girl asked.

“Temporarily.” Yesenia stood and affixed the weapon to her side. Ulfr slung his writing bag over his shoulders, pocketed a few more vials of ink, and joined her. “We will be back. Get yourselves settled in Asgard, and do your best to get them on our side. I’m counting on you, okay? Be my replacement.”

Medb’s voice was small, but she replied with a nod, “Okay.”

The three of them departed from the cart, waiting in the road and watching as Talfryn waved goodbye. They stood there until her visage was eclipsed by the night, and they were alone.

Wordlessly, Marciano turned on his heels and jogged back in the direction of Ys.

Ulfr, offering his arm to Yesenia, led her deeper into the shadows of the forest.

“You did not need to come with me,” She stated. “You know what I am planning to do.”

“I do. Careful, there’s a large root here.” Ulfr let her feel out the obstacle on her own, then took her paw once they were past it. “That is why I came. Hesperides is too far for me to travel without a horse, and too dangerous to approach from the gates.”

“I see,” said the blind woman. “It’s dangerous, you know.”

“What part of this isn’t?”

“True enough. How far are we from the standing stone?”

Ulfr looked behind him, then in front, seeing nothing but trees and blackness in every direction. His meagre mage-light was no brighter than a candle’s flame against the darkness. There was no moon in the sky that night, and glow of Ys aflame had been eclipsed by the trees.

“It’s hard to say,” he admitted.

“And you do remember where it was, yes?”

“Yes, I…” He did, but could not picture how to get there from this path. The road north was not one he had travelled in his own skin, and the eyes of a bat or a deer were altogether much different than his own. “I think we are headed the right way. Yes.”

If Yesenia had eyes to roll, she likely would’ve done so. Instead, she squeezed his hand and said, “Do not be frightened. I will protect you from the dark. Lead on.”

Ulfr allowed himself a short laugh. “I have no doubt of that.”

-- Next ->

[tartrazeen]

My main character would be an Aoi type. I loved her personality. Kaede reminded me a lot of her, but would also have uhhhhhh some weird moments thrown in. Aoi didn't have any of that.

So it makes her inclusion in this season really intriguing.

Think about it: would Aoi ever kill somebody?

👀

See? See how tricky that is to answer?

Because at first you're like, "No," but then you're like, "Weeeell, I remember Case 4." But then you're like, "No way she'd actually murder someone, though. If Sakura hadn't died, Aoi wouldn't have lost her mind like that."

So the capacity is there, but the circumstances are pretty damn specific to bring that out.

Having a character like her as our protagonist would be even better when we throw in all the curveballs Danganronpa's known for.

I'm picturing the game's cold open:

We get an intro about Hope's Peak or about how she's a nice person outside of this game. Standard DR intro.

We cut to her most recent memories: her, standing over a body. Someone walking in on that scene. Her insisting that she doesn't know what happened. Her memory cutting off mid-plea as the body discovery announcement goes off.

Cut to her waking up in this new season in the calm before the storm. It'll be like it was all a bad dream. Then she'll realize she's in Round Two.

That sets us up for a pretty cool case, too. Nobody said these characters had to come from different seasons, after all. Imagine that in the big introduction of everyone, our protagonist squeals in delight at seeing a familiar face - someone that was in her season!

She runs right up to them, so happy to see them again. But imagine this other guy looking at her, confused and maybe repulsed. He recognizes her too, of course, but he barely knows her. She was the blackened for the very trial. He made it all the way to the last one. She's a blip on his radar, while he's an anchor to anything she can even remember.

The context comes in clearer when they find out they were all the blackened on their seasons. She might have been 'pestering' him the whole time up to then, almost like Toko hounding Byakuya, to tell her anything about what happened after someone walked in on her standing above a corpse. But not only is he reluctant to tell her anything, and not only is distracted after everything else he went through, but he was the blackened later too. Maybe he meant to kill, and he's furious that his memories got cut off before he could see his handiwork. That's right - let's go ahead and make this guy our first antagonist.

He might tell her something eventually. Something vague or flippant like, "You lost. That's all. We kept going without you." It's the only fact she could've worked out by herself: obviously by him being here, she would've had to have lost in her own trial. But she doesn't understand, because she insists she never killed her victim. He says he's already heard this, and he doesn't want to hear it again.

(In terms of characters, who knows? Maybe I'll make this guy into my concept for the Ultimate Danganronpa Hater. 👀 Actually, I love that. Yes, yes, yes.)

In one of the final trials, our protagonist demands a showdown against Monokuma. She has new friends on her side: the last few survivors of the Killing School World. And she has new confidence from the trials she's survived here. She bets everything on her own innocence: if they run her trial again, and she wins, Monokuma has to let them all go. But if she loses, they all lose. It's the crazy kind of gambit that Monokuma (and Team Danganronpa) can't refuse. The ratings are too tempting to turn down, and Monokuma has the advantage of knowing how the last case turned out.

Really, it should be suicide. Monokuma accepting that means our protagonist definitely, definitely lost her case, and she's walking into a repeat of that. But a Danganronpa expert - that glorious Danganronpa Critic I concocted - could've had some way of finding out information about every trial that's ever happened. One of those could've been Kaede's, and the summary could include a spoiler about how she was framed as being the blackened. So our protagonist swears it's the same thing that happened to her. She must have been framed!

Being the Neo-World, it's not hard to recreate the scene of the crime. All the evidence gets laid out for everyone to investigate, as if it happened during this season. And everyone's able to find new angles and new ways to connect the pieces compared to last time. Of course, only Monokuma knows what 'last time' is.

I'd love for this to be the penultimate trial. Everyone can win, and everyone can find a way to prove her innocence. I'm seeing my Ultimate Girl Guide coming up with an impossible loophole within the rules to get our protagonist off the hook.

'Cause here's the other thing: the rules are going to be All Stars too. Every game had different sets - some were tried and true, but some were unique to a game or were added later in it. So the rules everyone gets this time are the ones that made their games the most interesting; Monokuma picks one of the rules that was unique to each season. This means that whatever rules our protagonist was up against in her season? They weren't in effect here.

Maybe it was something that Monokuma would've even had to prevent, because at that time in the protagonist's season, a particular rule wasn't added yet. Here in the All Star season, they were slapped with it right at the beginning. It's the kind of bullshit logic I'd absolutely see turning the tables on Monokuma, who'd have to reluctant admit that under the rules of this season, our protagonist could have never been the blackened.

It isn't perfect, but at least our protagonist can finally rest easy. She still doesn't know what happened during her original trial, but at least she knows that in another life, it would've never happened in the first place.

(She'd thank the Ultimate Girl Guide. The Ultimate Girl Guide, being a huge bitch, would coldly say they were only working together because the protagonist put all their lives on the line. It doesn't make them allies. To which our protagonist says, "Working together is working together. I'm not thanking you for being my friend. I'm thanking you for being a team player." :P)

This is a fun way to get a trial without having to shrink the cast, and it raises the stakes for the final trial, where Monokuma demands blood.

😍 I love it.

I'm actually wondering if this is something I could make in RPG Maker...

Edit: 😍 This could even be the trial and 'legal loophole' that finally kills my Ultimate Danganronpa Hater. The Ultimate Girl Guide finds the loophole, and the Ultimate Danganronpa Critic pins the preemptive rule-breaking onto the Hater instead. Monokuma's now forced to kill the Ultimate Danganronpa Hater, and our protagonist gets to live.

Oooooooh, I really love this.

Whenever I do make a Danganronpa fangame, I've already got the main conceit figured out.

An All-Stars Game

It'll be post v3, so it's sort of a desperate, last-ditch move by Team Danganronpa to spark interest in everyone again.

If the real world's been convinced to reject real murders (Thanks for ruining the fun, Shuichi), then the gimmick this time will be an All Neo-World Season. They'll call it "The Killing School World" or something dumb like that, and they'll trot it out as a more socially conscious version of the game.

But the gimmick on top of that gimmick is getting to fully recreate past characters. There'll still be volunteers or whatever, not AI, but the memories implanted will be specifically crafted to bring old fan favourites back. And in the Neo-World Program, they can even look like the original characters too. (Not 'original' as in "actual characters from DR1 or DR2." These'll be new characters to us, but they'll be from like season 5 and 27 and 14 and whatever.)

These returning characters will all have two major traits in common:

They have all been the blackened in their season

They remember everything from their season - right up to when the body discovery announcement was made for their victim

This opens the door to a bunch of cool things I could play with.

Technically, if their memory cuts off that early, they won't know Danganronpa is fake yet. I'm not interested in having that be the big reveal again - and like DR2, I'd actually want that revealed early on to get it out of the way - but I love the disparity in knowledge it gives them. Some of them will have suspicions that gets them to figure it out sooner, and some will be sideswiped by that.

Depending on when their trial was, they'll have more or less experience heading into this All Star round. The people who made it to trial four or gonna have way more to draw on than people who killed at trial two.

Not knowing how the trial went is going to give so much overinflated confidence to some, repeating their past mistakes, or artificial doubt, causing them to screw up on a detail they managed to hide perfectly last time.

Not knowing if they won brews a lot of questions around why they're All Stars. Did they get away with their murder, and that's why they're here? Did they lose and just get a gloriously gory death? Was someone just a fan favourite for their personality, their brains, their glorious screw-ups, or their motives? What does an "All Star" even mean when everyone's supposed to be an Ultimate?

Does being in a second round change a character's total attitude? Do they think it's a second shot at life that they can't squander, or proof they'll never truly escape this place? Do they start pandering to an audience out there, or outright flaunting their status as a fan favourite to see how much shit they can get away with? (And how does Monokuma react to that kind of fourth wall breaking? 👀)

How dangerous is each character, depending on the trial they made it to? Somebody who got to trial 5 might have an incredible strategy to have made it that far, and someone who hasn't seen a single trial surely landed on their face right out of the gate. Or at least, that's what they can claim. We all know Hiro survived DR1, so it doesn't take a genius to survive that long and then screw up on their own at the end. And someone who doesn't even remember the first trial? Maybe they're so good that they won on their very first try, under the maximum number of noses around to sniff out the truth. Or so they can also claim. 👀

What were the motivations? Not everyone has to be a dick, just a killer. Were people justified? Do they try to moralize it? Are they honest about having a shallow reason? Do they regret it now, or wish they could've gone bigger? And will the circumstances surrounding all that make another appearance this round too?

And of course, if everyone here's a killer, how can any of them be trusted? Then again, if everyone is a killer, surely they understand each other better than anyone else.

The main theme I want to dig into is gonna be "teamwork" versus "trust". That'll be my hope/despair, truth/lie thing. They don't have to necessarily trust each other, but they do have to work together. But how can you work with someone who can't trust to not stab you in the back? 👀

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

Thinking about Les Enfants Terribles again and how much I’d love to do a proper meta on Zero sometime if I can wrap my head around what I think he’s like a person vs what little we get of him as a whole. Because there really is just something so incredibly sinister about that whole thing, from start to finish.

Like, the whole thing is absolutely monstrous even on a surface level, but it’s this bit here that has me thinking, repeatedly, “Wow, people, be they children or adults, mean absolutely nothing to Zero as people.” If anyone sees people as tools, then I believe Major Zero would be firmly up there.

Now granted, in another post I’d like to point out he like every other character is much more complicated than that, and I do think he has some genuine feeling towards other people, but his obsession with Snake is..something else. And unlike say, Ocelot, I can’t even explain it away with something as (far easier IMO) as romantic interest and personal obsession within that. Because while Zero does think of Snake as a friend (and says so in his own private tape), he’s ultimately so desperate to keep whatever makes Snake, ‘Snake’ the perfect soldier, the ultimate weapon alive that the consequences and body count apparently matters little in the end.

Honestly, even the project title is..hardly encouraging.

That’s one way to put it, Ocelot.

Enough so that the project was considered ‘unsustainable’ and thus abandoned, after what I’m going to assume was the creation of Solidus. We know Solidus (George) was created sometime after Eli and David were. But I’m of the belief that it takes a very..particular mindset in the first place to be so desperate for someone to, essentially, procreate, that they use their DNA without their consent, suffer the trials of multiple failed subjects and then don’t even bother to make sure that the RESULT of that project (aka living, breathing human beings) are even properly cared for and looked after.

Because no. Zero does not make sure the boys are kept safe. At all.

In varied foster homes, yes. Now I know damned well that not all foster care is bad. But David himself alludes to having something of an unstable upbringing. And I don’t understand why Zero bothered separating them to begin with, but that’s another thing.

And speaking of Eli,

When Eli disappears nobody, especially not Zero, bothers to find him. They fully, willingly left a child that they created with the express purpose of one day fulfilling the goal of the perfect soldier, and even at this point just a KID, vanishes. And nobody does a THING about it.

Eli has super strength, an attitude and speaks two or three languages. But he’s also still TWELVE YEARS OLD. Meanwhile the most Zero could be bothered was to put David in various homes in the USA, and wait until he turned 18. Knowing full well that he’d probably end up in the military.

Maybe Zero figured that if Eli survived, it’d be a testament to the project at large, and a sign of how ‘successful’ it was. But that doesn’t change the fact that he just lets these kids that only exist because of HIS desires for perfect soldiers, get abandoned.

(It’s interesting to me too that the only other people we know to be on par with this kind of belief about people is Dr. Clark, though we never hear her thoughts on it, and Huey, who goes on and on to Venom Snake about how ‘much of a loss’ it’d be if Snake’s genes ‘died with him’. That’s the kind of moral ground Zero appears to be working on.)

The most detailed information regarding Les Enfants Terribles comes from MGS4, (see here, though there are no subtitles, please refer to this video to cross reference the points I make below). We know from the description Eva gives to Solid Snake in this briefing that the project was:

Designed to create the ‘perfect clone’ of Big Boss. Whom was seen as ‘the ultimate soldier’.

There were dozens of failures.

The successful egg came from ‘Dr. Clark’s assistant, a healthy Japanese woman’.

Eva willingly offered to surrogate.

I want to put some emphasis on that as well. The woman who contributed her egg to the project is never once mentioned in game by name. Now, granted, an egg donor can choose to be anonymous, but it ends up looking like Zero cares so little about people as people that who the donor is here hardly matters, as long as the end result is his perfect soldiers.

Furthermore, I’d like to refer to the MGS Fandom Wiki’s Entry on the Les Enfants Terribles Project, for some added information, namely:

It wasn’t enough for Zero and those involved to create the clones in the first place, but they had to make damned sure that those clones would never be given the freedom or autonomy of making decisions about something like reproduction, or about the kind of life they could live where they have the ability to grow, mature, and enjoy their time naturally. Because they were essentially programmed with self-destruct terminator genes to keep them from being a threat. Zero didn’t just have clones made, Zero had clones made that would eventually self-destruct and never make children of their own, because these fundamentally are not people to him, and they never were.

Nobody even TELLS David this, mind you. Now granted Zero is fully unable to communicate by the time David learns about the existence of Les Enfants Terribles, and Liquid didn’t know about the rapid aging either. Solidus somehow found out on his own. In the end, an aging David is left with Otacon to figure out the truth for himself. Going through a battery of Dr’s tests and hospital visits until they are able to put the pieces together.

Zero created, abandoned, and ultimately completely used and destroyed three people (and destroyed the trust and relationship he had with Big Boss) all for..what? To have perfect soldiers that, in the end, never accomplished what he wanted in the first place. Which if anything else is some karma for the man.

What Zero DOES care about, is control.

His specialty is controlling information, but in the same tape he tells Ocelot matter-of-factly, that if someone does find Snake, he’ll deal with them. And the tone of his voice is enough to imply that he means violently.

Liquid is defeated by David. Solidus is defeated by Raiden and David himself goes against being a soldier entirely and turns to destroying the war economy and most if not all of what it stands for. David dies, but so do the Patriots.

I’d also like to point out that Zero’s inability to see people as people appears to extend beyond the children, and while it might seem out of place in this essay, if I ever do go into my attempted meta of Zero’s character, I think it bears some mention.

It’s how Zero talks about Venom.

THAT’S AN ENTIRE GODDAMNED PERSON ZERO!! THAT IS A HUMAN BEING!! THAT IS AN ENTIRE! PERSON!! A COMATOSE! PERSON!

It’s also VERY interesting to me how subtly manipulative Zero is towards Ocelot in this tape.

So much to think about there. Another time.

It’s also telling to me that, for all Big Boss doesn’t like the kids, he still has more grace regarding them than Zero does. He does say what they are is sick, but he also makes sure Ocelot knows he still thinks of them as humans, and wants them treated as humans.

The tone of these tapes cannot be adequately conveyed in my analysis, but at the end of the day, the entire existence of Les Enfants Terribles is one of the darkest, overarching plots of Metal Gear as a whole. Watching David in MGS4 and thinking about how a man so driven by his obsession with another man, a man who at the end of the day wasn’t even superhuman, all for the sake of..what? And the trail of bodies in his wake as a result.

I do want to analyze Zero better sometime. He’s terrifying and fascinating and while we don’t get much about him, what we are given is pretty tantalizing, and I suppose I could’ve just summed all this up as “Les Enfants Terribles’ is sinister as hell.” But I’m a windbag, what can I say? And how I was feeling bad for kid Eli.

[xoxo-teddybear]

What Have I Done? - Bakugou Katsuki- pt.2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of suicidal thoughts, fluff, insane behavior, nsfw, noncon! Dubcon!, murder, stalking, abusive behavior, yandere!Bakugou, cursing, blood, lowkey kinda slow burn (meaning the beginning is a little boring BUT IT GETS GOOD I SWEAR😭)

Ep. Warnings: Angst, hitting, cursing, stalking, kidnapping, murder

Summary: It’s been awhile since you’ve left him. Two months actually but it was two months too long. Katsuki was slowly going insane and I guess you could say he officially has because he’s officially snapped. You become his main target, his number one priority, his entire being even though you’re trying to leave him. But Katsuki won’t let you. You’re his..and in the words of Bakugou Katsuki..you always will be.

A/N: ....I made it a yandere story y’all. OH SHI-

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Chapter 1

Twitch, twitch, twitch. That’s all Katsuki’s body been doing. Either his eyes or his fingers, his body is uncomfortably moving. Shit doesn’t feel right for him. And he knows exactly why. You left him.

The first week was horrible. All Katsuki did was cry. He even kept his destroyed home in shambles because he couldn’t find the motivation to do anything. If it wasn’t for Kirishima, Katsuki would have starved himself to death. The second week was just as bad. Nothing but a crying baby being taken care of by his best friend.

The third week is when Katsuki become a drunkard. He made Kirishima and the boys of the Bakusquad constantly take him out whenever. As long as the place served alcohol, he would go. He would go and drink himself to sleep. While he was intoxicated he would cry about how he misses you and how he was a terrible husband. He always said you deserved better but he was too in love with you to let you go. The 4th week was pretty much the same.

After a whole month without you, Katsuki threw himself into depression. For the entirety of the second month, he locked himself within the walls of his home. Thankfully, it was now considered a home environment once again after his dear friends cleaned the place up for him. Katsuki stayed inside all day, drank his soul away every night, and sobbed constantly. Constantly regretting how he neglected you, how he mistreated you, and how he hurt you. He doesn’t even know how he even brought himself to do that. Even though he’s been alone for almost 2 months, he still had hope that you would come back. That things would go back to normal and he would be a better husband to you, just like he promised.

Katsuki felt himself going mad and slipping away, but what pulled the trigger was what Kirishima brought to him on the 6th week.

—

Flashback

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?”

Katsuki looked down at the papers in his hands. Kirishima had walked in with a nervous and sad look on his face when he gave Katsuki the papers you had the red head deliver. “Sorry man...”

Katsuki shook as he stared at the divorce papers with wide eyes. He saw you already signed it and all the paper needed was his signature. His face grew dark as something in his mind snapped. Katsuki turned to his friend and instructed him to get out of his home.

“What? Man are you alright?” Kirishima said. He walked to his best friend and when he reached a hand out for him, Katsuki pulled on his arm and pushed him out the door. He slammed it shut and locked it as he looked at the papers.

A scary smile grew on the man’s face. His eyes grew crazy as he laughed maniacally. Hysterically. As if what he held was the most hilarious thing in the world. His palms began to spark as he used his quirk to destroyed the papers. The quick blast made his hair floof around a bit and when it was over, a pile of ashes lay at his feet.

“She-....she thinks she can leave me?” Bakugou began to walk to the framed picture on the coffee table. He picked up the picture of you both on your last anniversary and ran his finger over the image of you. “Poor Princess....you can’t leave me. You need me. Just as much as I need you. I mean..hehe...look at what I mess I’ve been. I can only assume you must be worse. But it’s okay, love...I’ll find you soon enough..and I’ll help you feel better,” he walked to his bedroom and layed down on the soft mattress as he held the frame close to his chest as he stared sinisterly at the ceiling, “and we’ll never be apart again.”

—

The 7th week was when it began. Katsuki took some time off of work. He was gonna be too busy for hero work. He had something much more important to do. He had to bring you home.

Katsuki spent the 7th week looking for information on you. He was up 24/7 reading all he can, talking to as many people as he can, and doing all the digging he could until he found you. Unfortunately for him but luckily for you, he found nothing. It pissed him off. How could you have completely erased your existence? Did you just go into hiding or was he not searching hard enough.

This time, the luck switched. Katsuki was just walking to the store when he looked to the far side and saw you in a cab. He had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t mistaken but after a good glance and taking a picture for confirmation, he knew it was you. His body almost betrayed him as he almost went in to run after you but luckily his brain stopped him. He had to think. Katsuki hid in an alleyway nearby as he watched you from the side. When the driver continued down the road, that’s when he began to follow you. He used his hero training and quirk to keep up with the car. He followed you for miles until the cab finally stopped at some hotel. He watched you walk in and decided this was far enough.

He knew where you were now. He could wait a little longer before snatching you up. If he did it now in broad daylight, chaos would break out. He had to wait for the perfect moment to get you back. He was okay with waiting. He knew where you’ve been staying, how to get there, and knew what time you got back from wherever that cab picked you up. And then it hit him. The cab.

Katsuki went back to look at the picture he took of you in the cab and checked the license plate. With this information, he went home to find where the vehicle was.

Katsuki busted the door open to his home and ran straight to his in-home office. He went to log onto his work laptop that he used for hero work. The laptop contained the tools and websites that would allow him to find the cab. He finally reached the site he was looking for and went back to the picture. There, he typed in the license plate number.

“よ 57-342” he whispered aloud. Finally, he located the vehicle and went to find it. Katsuki followed the location until he found the house where the driver stayed. He waited in hiding, hoping someone would come out and hoped that the someone would be the driver. He waited and waited until finally, after almost 2 hours of waiting, a man came out. Katsuki quickly pulled up the picture and made sure it was the same person who was driving you, and to his luck, it was.

He quickly ran to the driver before he could get into the cab and pulled him into a dark corner. He slammed the man up against the wall and pulled up a picture of you. “Listen! You dropped this girl off at a hotel, I need to know where you picked her up! Tell me! Now!”

“W-whoa!” The driver exclaimed as he took notice of Katsuki’s identity. “Y-you’re Dynamight!”

Katsuki sucked his teeth at the fact that this guy knew who he was but then again, he wasn’t surprised. He was the number 2 hero after all. “Yeah! I am! Now tell me where you picked up my wife you dog-faced loser!” He screamed.

“Y-you’re wife??” The man looked at the picture and recognized you and the name you gave him. “Oh! M-Miss Y/N! Yes! Uh-..uh- I- she- I- ..I picked her up from a gym!” The man exclaimed.

“What gym?! Tell me!!!” Bakugou shouted at the man.

“I-I’m sorry! I don’t know if I can! She- she said she got divorced so how can I trust you’re her husband?!” The man shouted in fear.

“Are you calling me a liar?! I’m a fucking pro-hero! Why would I pull some bullshit like that! Tell me where my wife was! What?! Gym?!” Bakugou screamed once more. In fear, the man gave Katsuki the information he needed.

“Hosu Gym!” The man shook and Bakugou stared for a minute to scare the poor guy before dropping him to the ground. As he walked away, the man spoke up once more. “D-Dynamight, sir. I-If miss Y/N doesn’t want to see you..and you’re forcing information out of people..I’ll have to tell the authorities..sir.”

“You’re not gonna do a damn thing. You hear me?!” The pro screamed. Bakugou side eyed the man as he watched the driver get up from the ground.

“Sir. From the small conversation we had in the car, Miss Y/N said she was divorced-“

“We aren’t divorced!!” Bakugou said as he made a random explosion to intimidate the man. “We are still together, and she is still my wife, and none of this is any of your business!” Bakugou began to walk away but heard the driver grumble something under his breath that triggered something in his brain.

“I can see why she left a crazed man like you...” the driver mumbled. Katsuki quickly snapped his body to face the man and jumped on him. His burning hand found it’s way around the man’s neck and began to squeeze.

“The hell did you say?! You’re gonna wish you never said that you fucking fool, cuz now those are gonna be your last words!” Bakugou said before he activated an explosion and killed the man. Katsuki took deep breaths before realizing what he did and for some reason, he felt no remorse. And he knows why.

“That idiot should’ve known better than to talk about me and Y/N like that...s’his own fault he died.” Bakugou said before walking away from the gruesome scene. He acted like nothing happened as he made his way to Hosu Gym. He just needed to know what time your got there and when. Then, he could finally go home before continuing his plan for the next day.

—

The blonde decided to wait for some time before he went into the building. It was getting dark and so the gym would be closing soon. He waited and waited until finally, the place was empty. Empty except for the man who worked at the front desk.

Katsuki slipped in right before closing and hid himself in the locker room. He waited 10 minutes before going out and finding the one employee he saw. After exploring the area, Katsuki found the man sitting on a bench. He snuck up behind him, and pounced. He covered the man’s mouth as he tugged him into the back room. Once inside, The blonde threw the man in and locked the door to prevent anyone getting in or out.

“W-What is going on? D-Dynamight, what is happening?” The employee asked in fear. He assumed a threat was going on or some trouble was taking place outside of the gym. He had no idea the trouble was standing right in front of him.

“I need you to tell me when this lady came in.” Bakugou said and pulled up a picture of you. The man looked at the picture and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize-“

“YOU WILL! This woman came in here today and I need to know what time! TELL ME!” Bakugou screamed as he lit sparks in his palm. The man shook in fear at the hero’s booming voice and began to look harder. After a minute, he finally spoke.

“I- I remember. She came in hours ago! Sometime around 12 to 2!” The man said in hopes the yelling would stop. It didn’t.

“ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?! There’s a huge space in between! I need to know exactly what time she came in! Don’t you morons have a sign in?!” Bakugou screamed.

“We do! We do sir!” The man nodded his head in fear. Bakugou huffed before walking over to him and dragging him by his collar to seat him on the chair in front of the computer.

“Then get into your data base and FIND MY WIFE!” The blonde screamed. The worker nodded frantically before getting right into it. Bakugou watched his every move and the computer. He kept a sparkling hand right next to the man’s head to keep him intimidated as he worked. Eventually, Bakugou saw your profile picture on the screen when the man scrolled down. “Stop. Her. Check what time she came in.”

The man read the drafts and spoke. “1:30 p.m.”

Bakugou nodded before walking to the door and unlocking it. He turned to the trembling man and gave a quick warning with a sinister smile. “If I ever find out that you told anybody, even your own damn friends or family, about what happened tonight, I won’t hesitate to come back and kill you. Am I clear?”

The man gave a quick and jittery “y-yes sir!” As he watched the pro-hero leave the room. Once Bakugou was gone, the man let out a breath of relief and allowed the few tears he was holding back to fall. Bakugou Katsuki definitely struck fear into those of the lives he met.

With this simple information, Bakugou smirked as he walked out the gym doors. He knows where you live, what gym you go to, what day you go, and what time you arrive. You were always a very punctual person. You had a schedule and you followed it through and through. He completely trusted the fact that when he came back here next week, he would be sure to see you. All he had to do now was wait 7 days.

—

7 days have passed and Katsuki was waiting for your presence in the gym. After finding out you arrived at 1:30, he showed up almost an hour earlier at 12 just in case. He waited and waited for you to show. He was almost out of patience, but after seeing that it was only 1:00, he settled the slightest bit. It wasn’t until he took notice of a familiar figure at the desk.

The man Katsuki had threaten nights ago was shivering and shaking in his boots as he greeted people at the door. He was aware that the pro hero was in the building and after the incident of what went down that night, he was definitely scared for his life. Bakugou began to walk to the man and said man could feel a scary aura coming around. When he turned, he was greeted with the sight of a smirking Katsuki.

“Hey friend,” Bakugou said with his hands in his pockets.

The man jumped at the sound of his voice and his scary presence made his eyes teary. “H-Hello Dynamight.”

“Thought I’d just come by to warn you again. When Y/N walks through those doors, don’t you fucking dare try telling her about me or my presence here. Got that.....” Katsuki said looking down at the man’s name tag. “Hiro Itadori? ‘Cuz if you do, your body goes boom. Understand?”

“Y-Yes Sir!” Hiro said as he looked to the ground with wide eyes as he felt himself break into a cold sweat. Bakugou patted the man’s back, causing him to flinch but when the hero walked away right after, Hiro calmed down. Unfortunately, that only lasted for about a second before you walked in.

“Hello Hiro!” You joyfully said. Your voice reached the ears of your ex-husband. Or more so, your “supposed to be” ex-husband. His ears perked up and he smirked as he hid behind a corner wall, taking the view of you in.

“Y/N.” He whispered to himself. He smiled and a blush bloomed on his porcelain skin as he admired you from afar. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. If anything, your looks seemed to have only gotten better. He watched as the man nervously greeted you and allowed you to go through with your workout. Katsuki smirked as he knew the man gave no hint at him being there, and so he would be able to watch you in peace.

Katsuki wasn’t there to keep tabs on your workout and what exercises you did. He was there just to watch you. Of course, while doing so, he admired you, but he was there to gain selfish intel. He watched you from start to end. Once you finished he followed you to your next location. It was still early and so it was safe to assume you weren’t heading to bed yet. He followed you back to your hotel and waited in another area until you walked out again. Sure enough, you did.

For the rest of the day, Bakugou followed and stalked your every move. He watched where you work, where you spent your free time, he followed you to the new cafe you seemed to enjoy, and then he followed you back to your hotel. Instead of waiting in another area and watching from afar, Bakugou climbed the side of the building and watched you from your hotel balcony through the glass door. He payed attention to your every move and noted what time you went to bed. Satisfied with the day’s revelations, he went back to his own home.

Knowing this information, Katsuki was able to sleep a little more peacefully. For the next few weeks, Katsuki followed this procedure. He became a full time stalker, even going so far as to call out of work for some time to put his full attention in you. He watched you like a hawk. He took note of everywhere you went, where you ate, who you spoke to, and what you did. All of it became engraved into his brain.

Now, Katsuki stood at your balcony for the umpteenth time as he stared at your sleeping form. It was deep into the night and with the moonlight on his back, he found enough courage and craze to open the door. He walked in quietly and shut the door, blocking the chilly air from seeping in to awaken your unconscious state. He approached your bed and crouched down to meet your face.

“Still as perfect as ever,” he whispered as he removed a few strands of hair out of your face. His touch didn’t seem to startle you and Katsuki took it as your body naturally indulging in his familiar touch. He blushed at the feeling of your oh so soft skin as his fingertips grazed your pillowy cheeks. His hand finally cupped the side of your face as his thumb drew circles along your skin. Your head unconsciously nuzzled into his warmth like it used to and Katsuki couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry Teddy Bear...I’ll bring you home soon.”

With that, Katsuki leaned down and softly placed a kiss on your lips. This was the lightest kiss he ever bestowed upon you. The pressure and weight was similar to a feather and the blonde struggled to restrain himself once he came in contact. He craved more but his mind knew better. Reluctantly, he pulled away and removed his hand from your face. He walked away, back to the balcony to take his leave but not before turning to look back at you. “Real soon.”

—

You woke up to a sense of familiarity in your room. Although you were alone, you could’ve sworn there was this chilling presence. It was faint but it was there. Taking in a breath and looking around at your surroundings, you reluctantly got out of bed and got ready for the day.

You did the usual. Got ready, got dressed, had breakfast, and went about your day. You went to the market to picked up a few things and ended up staying much longer than you liked. You walked in during daylight and came out when the sun was setting. You sighed in disappointment.

“Guess I can skip the gym this one time. I might as well get back home, read a book or two..” you went on talking to yourself about your schedule. You walked with the groceries in hand as you enjoyed the scenery on your way back, however, even with the shining sun creating it’s golden hour with a beautiful purple sky, you couldn’t help but feel wary of the stillness in the wind.

—

‘Where the fuck is she?!’ Bakugou thought to himself. He waited at the gym all damn day. He waited and waited to see your beautiful face but you never showed. If he had known that you would’ve skipped out on the gym today he wouldn’t have came here and wasted his time. Today was supposed to be the day. The day you came home.

Shaking off his negative thoughts, Bakugou continued with his backup plan. Although it would hurt his soul to bring harm to his precious princess, he reminded himself that he was doing this for her. He’s been so broken for the past months, he could only imagine how destroyed you must be. Hurting you was his way of helping you.

And so, Bakugou made his way to your hotel, where he found himself standing infront of your glass door at your balcony. To his dismay, you weren’t there. He released a huff before climbing down and once again, began to wait. He waited and waited in hiding, constantly on the lookout for you. It’s hard to find you in the city when you don’t follow your daily schedule, but knowing where you currently resided to get your rest made his job much easier.

Finally, after some time, he heard the familiar and comforting sound of your humming voice as you sang a little song to yourself. Bakugou took the sight of you in and blushed at your beauty from afar. He allowed himself to soak in the sound of your pretty voice before making his move. “Sorry Princess.”

—

You finally made it to the hotel. After your long stroll, you couldn’t wait to get some rest. Except, the closer you got, the more tense you became. You could feel the suspenseful aura in the air and your pace soon slowed down. Eventually, you came to a stop as your nerves got the best of you.

“Hello?” You said in the wind. You looked around and saw nothing but the pitch black night illuminated by the street lights and stars.

“Is someone there?” You asked again, turning your head another direction. Nothing but leaves in the wind. You released a sigh and continued your walk but became startled due to the sound of squirrels fighting in the trees.

“Ah!” You screamed and dropped your bag. After taking notice of the two animals going at it, you chuckled to yourself and turned to pick up your bag, unfortunately being startled once again at the sight of shoes in front of you. “AH!”

You jumped back in fear and took a fighting stance before you settled and relax at the sight of your supposed ex-husband. “Bakugou..it’s just you.”

“Mm, nope.” Bakugou said as he bent down to pick up your bag and hand it to you. “It’s Katsuki.”

His words sent your eyes rolling as you took your bag back with a hesistant hand. Something seemed..off.

“Not anymore. Thanks for the help. Bye.” You attempted to walk on to your hotel entrance but his arm stopped you.

“What? That’s it? Thanks? Bye?” Bakugou asked while gently pushing your body back in front of him. “We should talk, Y/N.”

“There’s nothing to talk abou-“

“There is.” Bakugou said with a firm voice, grabbing your full attention. Seeing your doe eyes look at him with caution caused him to settle. Bakugou sighed through his nose and allowed his hands to rest on your waist. “I miss you, Y/N. I want you to come back home.”

You shook your head at the idea and scrunched your eyes as you tried to step out of his hold. “Bakugou..”

“Hear me out, okay? It won’t be like last time, Teddy Bear-“

“You don’t know that-“

“I do. Because I’m going to try harder for you and I’m going to hold onto you and I’m not gonna ruin us for a second time. I still love you Y/N. I always have and I always will.” Bakugou sweetly said. You looked at him with the same eyes of caution before you placed your hands over his, giving him a sign of hope.

“I’m sorry, Bakugou,” you said, pulling his hands off of your waist. “I sent divorce papers. I don’t want to be with you anymore. I don’t love you anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.” Bakugou said with full confidence. Although you pulled his hands away from your waist, you still allowed him to keep a hold on your own hands.

“...I should.” You said looking down. With each word of denial, Bakugou took a step closer, invading your personal space. “You should get going-“

“No, Y/N-“

“Bakugou-“

“Baby. I know you still want me. I know you still love me and I know you’re excited that I’m back. I love you...and you love me. So just admit it.” He said, inches away from your face. You stared in his eyes with a look of longing...and a hint of love. He was right. You did still love him. But after the neglect and harm he’s brought you, you didn’t know if you did want to go back. You didn’t know.

Sensing your hesistation, Bakugou slowly moved in to close the gap between you two. His hands let go off yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His face inched closer to yours and when you didn’t stop him, he continued. Finally, he gently placed his lips upon your own and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel something again. His kisses always brought a comforting feeling of butterflies in your stomach and after a second of feeling his warm lips, you kissed him back. Your hands found way around his neck as you pulled him in deeper and you could feel Bakugou smile into the kiss. It was hot and passionate. You were out in the open but for a moment it felt like no one else in the world existed. You would’ve gotten lost in the kiss had it not been for you remembering the situation you were in with the man.

Reluctantly, you gently pushed Bakugou off of you, but he still managed to press his forehead to your own. “Katsuki...you should go home.”

“Not without you.” He softly said. You shook your head as you completely pushed him off of you and gathered your things.

“Please...just go.” You said and began to walk away but Bakugou held onto your arm to stop you from moving any further.

“I’m not leaving without you, Y/N. Come home.” He stated.

“Bakugou! Just leave!” You shouted as you turned to him. When you faced the blonde man, you were shocked to see a crazed smile decorating his face.

“Too bad. I’m not asking Y/N. I’m telling. You’re coming home with me. Tonight.” He said and you scoffed at him with slight fear.

“You’re crazy!” You said and tried to shake his hold off of you, but of course failed.

“About you? Yes.” He said as he pulled you in closer. You squirmed against his hold until he pressed you in his chest and kept you in his grasp. You continued to fight against him but he grabbed your face with one hand to force you to stop and look at him.

“Let me go!”

“Listen! You either come home with me the easy way..or my way.” He warned. You looked at him with fear laced all around your face as you watched his insane side surface. You began to squirm again and fight once more.

“I’m not going!” You spat. Bakugou just released a simple laugh before caressing the side of your face.

“Yes. You are.” With that, the gentle hand on the side of your face formed into a first as he swung and knocked you out. You dropped unconscious in his hold and Bakugou was quick to carry you princess style and walk away, abandoning your groceries on the sidewalk.

“Shoulda listened. Cant believe you forced me to hurt you like that, baby.” Bakugou spoke to your unconscious state as he walked back home through dead city streets. “Don’t worry though, I’ll take care of you once we make it back. And then, we’ll never be apart again. I promise.”

—

You awoke to chains being locked on your wrist that were tied against a headboard. You layed on a large mattress in a dark room with a dim light. As you looked around, you recognized the familiar place. The place you used to make love for hours with your ex-husband. The place where movie dates and cuddle sessions were a must. The place you locked yourself in before leaving your last relationship. Katsuki’s bedroom.

You tried to jump out of bed but the restraints pulled you back down. You tried to scream and only muffled sounds could be heard. Katsuki taped your mouth shut. You tried using your quirk but it didn’t work. You looked to your restraints and saw the cuffs he used to hold you were quirk restraining cuffs. With nothing else to do, you tossed and turned in the bed as you allowed the muffled sounds to be as loud as they could. Eventually, the ruckus you were making brought the attention of your captor. Katsuki Bakugou.

Hearing all the noise, Bakugou busted opened the door to be met with your frustrated and teary eyes. You glared at him as he smirked at your locked up state. He took the opportunity to walk up to you and caress your face.

“I’m so sorry I had to hit you baby,” he said leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. “But you left me with no choice. All you had to do was come home on your own free will and I wouldn’t have had to do all that.”

You began to tremble with anger and fear as you stared up at the man. Your teary eyes challenged his insane rubies as he sat on the side of the bed.

“How does it feel to be back? Hm?” He asked, ripping off the tape. You groaned at the pain and grew sick as you saw Bakugou pervertedly lick his lips at the sound. You leaned back and huffed with heavy breath before answering him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Let me go!” You screamed. He only looked at you in confusion as another sinister smile took place on his lips.

“Why would I do that, Teddy Bear?” He asked, allowing his thumb to create sweet and soft circles on your cheek.

“I don’t want you anymore Katsuki! I don’t want to be with you!” Bakugou merely raised a brow at your words and continued to listen. “You burned me-“

*SMACK*

You looked at the man in front of you with fear and shock written on your face. Your cheek stung as your face now turned to the side but Bakugou quickly changed that by taking you by your chin to make you face him and wrapped a hand around your neck, chocking you. You gasped for air as Bakugou’s smirk became replaced with a frown and his brows became pointed.

“How dare you?! You’re asking what’s wrong with me but what the hell is wrong with you?! You left me, for months, Y/N. I was heartbroken. I was basically dead with you gone. I did you a fucking favor bringing you back. If I was so fucked, I can only imagine how horrible you must’ve been feeling. You’re lucky I came and save you. Saved us. And now, we can be happy again.” He explained.

“K-...Katsuki-..p-please!” You forced out, trying to beg for air.

“SHUT UP! I saved you, Y/N. So don’t even try to mention the little accident that happened so long ago, baby. Now you can forgive me. And don’t worry..I’m ready to listen to all the apologies you surely have for me...even if I have to choke them out of you.” He seethed with his hand tightening. Your eyes began to pop as the blood flow began to fill your face. Your eyes turned red as you struggled for air.

“I-...I-I’m..K-Katsuki! ...I’m sorry!” You shouted as best as you could. Luckily for you, the second you did, Bakugou’s hand lost its grip and simply rested on your neck. You choked and coughed as you relished in the sweet taste of oxygen. He smiled and leaned down to give your lips a sweet peck to shut you up and tapped your cheek before he walked to the door. Before leaving, he turned around to look at you and give you your official welcome back.

“I’m glad you’re home, baby. Can’t believe you really tried leaving. You’re mine, Y/N. And you always will be....don’t forget it.”

He slammed the door shut, walking away from the room with a smile. And you?

You cried.

A/N: Back by popular demand, we have part 2 to “What Have I Done.” How was it? In my opinion the beginning SUCKED! But I promise it’ll get better! The story will focus on Y/N and Bakugou’s new lives now so stay tuned and I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Tag list: @captainchrisstan @jazzylove @bakugous-trauma @konohahoee @whatdidshesayyy @chibiiichann @lover-of-helios @unicornlover25 @tamakisropebunny @iliketobullydeku @peacchfuz @fairybnha3 @ebiharachan @levimeko @5sos-wdw @naluciosa @anime-weeb-bnha @bakucumsackslut @asteria-obey-me

[litgwritersroom]

I don’t have anything specific in mind but if possible, something for my favourite bra, Chelsea

no body, no crime

S2 | Chelsea | 1100+ words | @crimswnred

Este was a friend of Chelsea's; they'd meet up every Tuesday for dinner and a glass of wine. When Este goes missing, Chelsea's suspicions fall to Este's cheating husband...

🎵 I think he did it, but I just can't prove it. no body, no crime 🎵

He did it.

Este and Chelsea had been friends since they first stumbled upon each other in the school's halls. They were different in every way they could. While Chelsea was petite, with blue eyes and blonde hair, Este had long dark hair and long legs that could easily make her a model. Chelsea was an extrovert who struggled with a need to be everywhere all at once; Este was a lot more introspective and would take the silence of her mind over the chattering at any time. 

Even so, they became friends. Best friends. Tied at the hip, they did everything together, from shopping to going to a doctor's appointment. Soon enough, the town stopped recognising them when they were on their own. There wasn't Chelsea without Este, nor Este without Chelsea.

When Este got married and became Mrs Koh, their friendship suffered a few changes. She was a wife now, which meant she had a family and a husband to take care of. Chelsea watched as Este dedicated her life and all of her wills to building a family. They never wanted kids, so Este kept working, even if her once ambitious career had stagnated after a while. She couldn't travel as she used to, or had the energy to work extra hours.

Their Tuesday nights at Olive Garden were now filled with wine and reserved for vents about Este's husband. She kept that little life for years and even if Chelsea wanted to tell her how much damage that marriage caused in her life, she kept quiet. 

"I've been losing sleep over this, Chels," Este told her one night, drink in hand. "He's been acting so strangely… it smells like cheating."

Chelsea scrunched her nose at the thought. Este had been crazy for Lucas since they met at a mutual friend's party and she had never doubted him for even a second. "How could you possibly know that, babes?"

But Este looked her dead in the eyes. "Sometimes, he gets home tasting like Merlot… plus, I checked our joint account the other day," Este said, leaning back and looking at her hand. "That jewellery ain't mine."

Chelsea could recall the whole conversation so vividly, as if it had happened just yesterday. She could still see the look on Este's face, how she was determined to catch the son of a bitch in the act.

"I think I'm gonna call him out," Este had said before finishing her drink. 

But she just couldn't prove it.

A week later, Chelsea hadn't heard about the case anymore. In fact, she hadn't heard about Este at all. When Tuesday came and Este wasn't there for their weekly dinner at Olive Garden, that was when Chelsea got suspicious. She searched for her at her job, at her parents' house, at the spots she would go to when something bad happened. 

And then Lucas reported her missing.

It hit Chelsea like a punch to her stomach. Her friend was dead. They searched for her but the authorities said it was almost impossible to find someone that had gone missing for over a week. Most missing people were never found. It was easier to consider her dead, they said, not even caring if they were talking about Chelsea's best friend right to her face. Not even considering that Este was a person, who once laughed and cried, just like the rest of them. She wasn't a number, a statistic. She was Este. Chelsea's Este.

Chelsea was angry, to say the least. Mostly because she seemed to be the only person that cared about her friend. People would comment on how Lucas seemed absolutely devastated by her sudden disappearance but Chelsea wasn't buying it. After all, she knew damn well she was the one pressing the police for more information on Este's case, the only one who believed they could still find her. She couldn't understand why, though. But then, one day while she was passing the Koh's house, it clicked.

Lucas had changed the tires of his truck.

The mistress had moved in.

Blake. That was the name of the copycat that stole Este's life. She was proudly displayed for Lucas' friends, hanging from his arms like an accessory. She was younger than Este and had chocolate hair instead of dark curls, a body curved like a guitar. She was the perfect trophy to make others jealous and Lucas was not as shy to show her off as one would think of a recent widow. 

Slowly the puzzle started to show the bigger picture inside Chelsea's head. Of course, it wasn't a fucking coincidence that Este had gone missing within a week after she figured out her husband was cheating. The new tires could only mean two things: either Lucas had driven through a distant forest like in a weird car commercial or he was trying to cover his tracks. The reason? He wanted to fuck his mistress without the trouble of his divorce.

Somebody needed to catch him out.

But she just couldn't prove it.

Yet, Chelsea wasn't letting it up until the day she died.

Unfortunately, there wasn't a single clue that could connect him to the case, even though Chelsea was sure he did it. He was clever, smart. Had covered his tracks perfectly well and would've gotten away with it if it was with anyone else. But Chelsea was smarter and only god himself could explain the amount of love she had for her best friend. The man who killed her wasn't worthy of living.

And it was all oh-so-easy. She had a boat license, one that her daddy made her get when she was only fifteen. Her mother had raised her well enough so she could clean a scene like no one else. The river next to the town was always so empty ever since a kid had gone missing on it.

When Lucas went missing the town swore the couple was cursed but Blake affirmed to everyone she knew that Chelsea was the one to blame.

"I know she did it, officer," Blake had told the police when they called her to the station. 

But she just couldn't prove it.

Este's sister stepped up immediately after what Blake said. She looked devastated, a flame in her eyes that could only mean a thirst for revenge — a look that Chelsea probably mirrored.

"She was with me, dude," Este's sister had said between her teeth, eyeing Blake up and down as someone who looked at a tragic accident.

"If you ask me," Chelsea said, fiddling with her hair as she looked at Officer Bill, "The big life insurance policy is reason enough…"

It was just her luck.

The police station ate that up like fucking pigs. The story was all over the newspapers not even a day after. Local femme fatale kills loving family. Every single one of the town folk was telling the story of how a jealous woman searching for money had destroyed one of their precious families. They were certain that she had done it.

But they just couldn't prove it.

[kimetsu-no-imagines]

submission request

its ur bf write me rengoku porn rn before i kiss you in electrical- u know what i want 😩 ——————————————————————————- a/n : !!!!!! anything for u babe!!!!! a request from my bf,,,,,,,how special,,,,especially when haven’t written on here in forever,,,,,, warnings ; mugen train spoilers!!!!!!!!!! s o m a n y!!!!!! mentions of rengoku/akaza fight, alternate universe where rengoku lives it’s what we all want anyway, pre-established relationship/rengoku is your husband, breeding/pregnancy kink, rengoku living and dying (figuratively) between your legs, “dirty” talk but rengoku is such a loving man i don’t think it should even be called that here, uhhhh body worship but with his eyes? its very vague but it is there, boy just loves you okay, also none of this is proof read or anything if that matters word count ; 2,728

I’m Home

When you first hear about it, of course, like his fellow pillars, you’re terrified-thankful, naturally, that your husband at least hasn’t died, but the crow sent to inform you of the events of his mission, of his injuries, doesn’t exactly try to sugar coat anything, not even for you, his spouse.

Skull fractures from dodging the punch that would have smashed his eye completely, broken ribs from dodging yet another hit that, if he hadn’t moved back fast enough, would have gone through him and killed him-the details were gruesome, they were bone-chilling, it wasn’t as if you or anyone particularly enjoyed hearing about it, but one thing was for certain-you were relieved not to have lost him to this, to have lost anyone. Tanjiro and the others were so strong, so hard-working, and they were so young, with so much to live for-you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if anything had happened to them, either.

There’s so much about it that pains you-not being able to have your husband home with you after he’d already been so busy with this mission and the ones before it, knowing how injured he was and how long it’d take him to recover at the Butterfly Estate, it was all… Torture. Not that you couldn’t go see him, of course-but Shinobu urged you to stay home and relax, you wouldn’t want to see him in the state that he was in, she promised you that much. Her crow did come by to personally update you on his condition every day or so, though-that was at least some amount of relief.

… Or, it would have been. You hadn’t seen any crow come by in a week or so, to the day-and yes, you kept track, because of course you did, you were an anxious wreck, and it’d already been months of your husband steadily recovering, or so you thought. Had he died from his injuries? Did something happen to the estate, were more people hurt? … Well. You supposed that was a silly thought, she lived so close to the Master’s own residence-no demon could get close enough to hurt them, with all the wisteria around both places.

You were so used to having your husband around to calm you when you thought about the worst things, like this-your heart hurt with anxiety and worry. What could you do but stand outside by the door, every day, for hours, just waiting for some sign, of a crow, of Shinobu herself, of anything?

It was another day that had gone by just like that-your feet and legs ached from keeping yourself up for so long, dried tear trails staining the sides of your face-you knew it was silly of you, you knew you should have tried to be at least a little stronger, for him if no one else, but… You just couldn’t help it. You hated this. You just wanted your husband back.

A dejected sigh leaves you as you watch the sun set for just one more moment before turning to go back inside, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes again-maybe tomorrow you’ll go up to Shinobu’s estate yourself. You couldn’t stand this for another–

“Hahaha! Now isn’t this strange! You’re running away from me!”

Your heart stops, and you freeze in place. What?

You feel him before you can turn to see him-chest pressed against your back, though soon you’re spun around and pulled up into a crushing hug anyway, and it’s all you can do to immediately start sobbing into your husband’s brightly-colored hair as you’re held.

“… Hello, my sweet,”  His voice is no longer booming and jovial like it was a moment ago, but soft, gentle and meant only for you, as he squeezes you to him-you want to worry about the injuries he was supposed to be recovering from still, but you don’t want this to end, either. You suppose, he must have just been coming around the corner and through the gate when you turned to go inside-not that it mattered, all that did matter was that he was… Here, holding you.

“You must have missed me terribly!” All hearty, he laughs with you again, even if all you can do is cry in his arms while he rubs soothingly at your back, “But of course I missed you terribly too! I tried many times to sneak out and come home to you, but Shinobu or one of the other girls always caught me-”

You missed his voice dearly, you did-and you were still crying, but you couldn’t help but lean up and kiss him. It was something you usually did to quiet him, for sure, but right now you just… Needed him. And he didn’t seem to mind, hands happily and readily sliding down to hoist you up into his arms, never breaking from you as he carried you into your home.

“… Such a beautiful shouldn’t have quite so many tears upon it, you know,”He mumbles gently against your lips, and you sniffle as you finally reach up to start wiping at them, “I-I just missed you so much, Kyojuro, I was so scared-you were almost-you could have-”

“But I didn’t, and I won’t.” He interrupts you sweetly, but firmly nonetheless, shaking his head at you, “I am fine. I am healed, my love. I am still here to fulfill my duties-and I always will be. That includes my duties to you as your husband.”

“I…” It doesn’t feel like you should believe it-after what you’d heard of his battle, knowing he’d even just encountered an Upper Moon demon, this felt too good to be real or true, and yet… There’s such certainty and finality blazing in his eyes as he stares at you, all you can do is nod.

“… Alright.”

———————————————–

… Really, all you had intended to do this evening, now that you had your husband home with you, was cook him his favorite meal and go to sleep with him, in his arms, for the first time in who knew how long, at this point. Truthfully, that had been your only goal. You wanted him to rest, no matter how many times he told you just how fully recovered he was through the mouthfuls of sweet potato you so lovingly prepared for him-and yet… And yet…

Well, you suppose you simply didn’t account for him wanting… Dessert.

“It’s been so long,” The words are mumbled around you, your flesh, as he greedily, really voraciously eats and licks you up from between your legs-you’d already known him to be feral when presented with the sweet treat only you could provide him with, but this was something else entirely, “-it’s been too long, my love, don’t you understand how very hungry I am?”

You don’t, but by no means are you going to let that stop either of you. You missed his mouth just as much as he missed your taste.

“K-Kyojuro-Kyojuro, I’m-Kyo–”

… He’s never been one to tease or deny you. And yet just as you’re about to cum, so close to the edge you could have tasted it yourself, he’s pulling away from you. His lips and chin and… Well, his face, in general, are so shiny with you-you easily forget your frustration and get lost in the blissful look in his eyes as he cleans himself with his tongue. “While you certainly are the most delicious thing in this world, my sweet,” He crawls up the length of your body so quickly, so desperate to smash his lips to your own, “-as I’ve told you, it’s been far too long. I want to feel you cum around my cock this evening. But I’m sure you have no complaint either way?” Any other day, you’d want to hit him, to get that cheeky look off of his face, but… You also can’t say you don’t want that. Maybe you really don’t have any complaints either way. “… You’re awful,” You huff up at him, but you nod, “… But alright.” … And yet he stays still. It would be so easy-you’re properly soaked, and the pair of you are completely naked, and yet your infuriating husband is just… Sitting there, hovering over you with a smile on his face. It’s a soft, loving smile-but you’ve known him so long, you don’t miss the mischief in his eyes. “… Can I not admire you, my beautiful spouse? Even for a moment, after I’ve been gone from you for so very long?” It’s not a crime for him to stare at you so adoringly-really, you’d love it if you weren’t as damn horny as you were. But... It has been a long time. He’s teasing, but as much as that’s true, you know he’s being earnest, too-his eyes flicker all over your form so carefully, meticulously re-memorizing every tiny detail about you. “... Even more beautiful then before I left you, dear one,” The way he murmurs it, so absently, it’s almost more like he’s saying it to himself, but his eyes raised to bore back into yours after a minute-clearly, he wants you to hear every word of what he’s saying, absent or not. “... Would you like to know something I thought about while I was away?” His love renders you breathless, speechless-it’s all you can do to nod up at him. “During the brief hours of respite I would get, I would think to myself... What would it be like to come back to you, our home... How would it feel, the joy of it all... And then, another thought had started to occur to me,” A sharp gasp tears through you as you feel a few fingers suddenly and swiftly beginning their work at stretching you out-sneaky man, he’d distracted you from his hands with his voice, and even then, he kept talking like he hadn’t done anything, “... What would it be like if I could come home to the sight of you all swollen and glowing with our child...?” Those words rob you of whatever meager amount of breath you had managed to regain. With your child...? “... Oh, my love, you squeezed my fingers so nicely just now,” He marvels at the sight, the feeling of you, worrying his lip between his teeth-you’re so pretty like this, is what he wants to say, but his mind is suddenly consumed by the thought he’d put into both your heads a moment ago. You, glowing with the product of your love in your stomach. You don’t fail to notice the twitching of his cock where it hangs all hard between his legs. “Do you like the sound of that, then...? Do you want to carry my children, our children, my dear one? I’ll give it to you if you just say the word-after all, what poor excuse of a husband would I be if I didn’t?” His fingers move in and out of you faster, frantic and eager to prepare you for him, now, as he almost rambles on like that-his words set your body, your insides, on fire. You do want it, you realize-it’s not something you’d given much thought to before, but here, like this, right now after spending so much time worrying about losing him? You really do want nothing more. “P-p-please, please Kyojuro, I want-please give me your children, I want it, I want you, please make me pregnant, my husband, please-” It’s not meant to egg him on, truly it isn’t-you just can’t help but beg with how badly you want it yourself. But that doesn’t mean you don’t delight in the way he seems to snap, just the slightest bit, above you, quickly removing his fingers from you to replace them with his cock-what you’d been waiting for since he laid you down in bed earlier. That felt like an eternity ago right now, though. The stretch isn’t an uncomfortable one, with the care he’d still taken to prepare you-you missed it, if anything, you missed him. And it’s clear that he feels the same-he’s gone so tense above you, arms trembling on either side of you with the restraint it takes not to move. Somehow, he still manages to keep up that bright smile of his, too. “Do tell me when I can move, my love. This is a bit unbearable with how lovely you feel!” ... As hazy as your mind was with pleasure, you couldn’t help but giggle. Even now, your husband was so... Endearing. So cute. Your bring your hands up to hold his face as you nod your head eagerly, over and over, “Please, Kyojuro-please, I want it,” You can see that he wants to worry about you, wants to ask you again to make sure-but he can’t, his body betrays him, his hips instantly slotting themselves against your own, pulling back only to quickly bring themselves back down, his cock pressing and rubbing against every bit of your insides as it moves in and out of you, over and over and over, so fast-and your husband hardly even breaks a sweat. ... His being a demon slayer, and a pillar, at that, had its perks, you supposed. His stamina was one of them. But he seemed to already be losing his composure, too, with just how long it’d been since you’d gotten to be so close. “This-this is embarrassing, haha-I feel like I could burst at any moment already-just-just thinking about how-utterly perfect you’d look, ah-” His hips stutter, and he stills for a second, to keep his own pleasure at bay for a moment-though he makes up for it with the hand that shoots down to rub and stroke at what his cock isn’t already touching, “-goodness gracious-how perfect you’d look, pregnant, my love-” As if you aren’t ready to burst, yourself. Did he suddenly forget about denying you mere minutes ago...? “M-my husband-my husband, Kyojuro, please, m-me too, just go ahead, please-please give me your child, give it to me, please-” “You’re really as difficult as you are beautiful!” The very wind is knocked out of you as you find your legs suddenly on either side of your head, as he fucks into you with a very renewed, fittingly fiery sense of vigor and passion, grunting freely every time he feels you wrap around him again and again, “I truly did want to take my time with you this evening, my sweet-how irresistible you are like this-I’ll have to savor you another time-” This position, the wildness in his eyes, the feeling and the sight of him-yes, the sight of him, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t see the bulge appearing and disappearing from your stomach-fucking into you desperately, all of it is far too much for you, far too overwhelming, but of course he revels above you in the way you clamp down on him and make a sudden, abrupt mess all over the pair of you, not to mention the futon underneath you. “So beautiful-so beautiful like this, my love-I-just the sight of you, you’re going to make me-goodness-” He leans over you and folds you in half even further, nose brushing against your neck, “I-I’m going to-I’m going to give it to you now, alright? I swear it, my love, my dear one, I’ll-I’ll get you pregnant, I promise, I promise, I--” It’s so intense, he almost roars as it washes over him, as he fills you up so completely it leaks out of you, with how long its been since either of you had any form of... Release. Your legs are released, and they flop numbly down against the plush futon beneath you-your husband can barely keep himself up, but he at least tries to be careful as he collapses against you, chuckling so happily against your shoulder while you can hardly keep your eyes open, let alone say anything. You wish you had the sense what was apparently so... Funny, right now. “... I love you, _____.” The biggest wave of tranquility falls over you, hearing those words. You can’t quite say much of anything still, but he knows-he sees it in your eyes when he looks up at your face. You love him too. Right now, that’s all he needs. “I really am so happy to be home, dear one.”

[banqdanfnfic]

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

© banqdanfnfic 2021, all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Military Dog Tag Dilemma

Relationship: Stucky x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluff Summary: You just want to wear the military tags of both your men but Steve seems to run into some issues. A/N: I am also always a sucker for Stucky writing ok and this was my first personal attempt at it and i thought it came out well <3

masterlist

Bucky gave you his dog togs within weeks of establishing your relationship with him and Steve.

You loved to mindlessly play with them as the three of you cuddled up in bed, enjoying some pillow talk after, particularly long days. Steve spooning you from behind as you laid on Bucky’s chest, his arm thrown around you, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. Your fingers would fumble with the shiny tags, turning them over in your hand, watching the minimal moonlight hit them every now and then.

You didn’t know what it was about the tags that had you so captivated nearly every night. It felt so simple yet so intimate as you stared at your lover’s name and information engraved in them. While you weren’t exactly an expert on wartime, you knew the tags could serve as gifts to partners, assuring your heart to one another. The concept definitely drifted through your mind from time to time, but you never brought it up.

Bucky, however, seemed to be thinking the same thing. Wordlessly, one night, he slipped off the silver chain, tags clinking together musically, and slid them over your head. The coolness of them tickled your neck as the tags fell to the valley between your breasts.

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was pounding as you ran your fingers around the necklace. Even Steve seemed a little shocked by the actions. But Bucky was fully pleased as evident by the cocky grin he wore watching you ogle at the gift. He had to admit — knowing you were walking around with his name dangling from your neck did something for him.

"Where are your tags, Steve?" You had asked after placing a loving, appreciative kiss on Bucky’s lips. Now that you obtained Bucky’s tags, it only seemed fitting you wore Steve’s as well.

Steve shifted. You looked up at him only to find him watching the wall across from the bed, seemingly lost in thought. "I-I’m not really sure, honey."

You let out a sad hum at the response. "Well, if you find them, let me know," you yawned, shuffling down in the bed to get comfier. "I’d like both of my men close to me all the time."

Since then, Steve had been on a mission to find dog tags. Going through archives, chain of custody notes, discarded boxes… Everything. There was just something about the entire thing that was driving Steve mad. He was honored you wanted to show off the claim your two lovers had on you but he was also deeply concerned about the fact that currently you only had Bucky’s to wear.

While Steve wouldn’t exactly call himself jealous in this situation, knowing you didn’t love him any less, the relationship was established the way it was and he felt you should still have something of his to truly show for it.

This led Steve on what felt like a manhunt for the "damn dog tags," as he kept referring to them when Bucky would check-in asking if all was okay. Nothing was really okay. He had looked high and low for them, going through every potential record in the database trying to at least confirm there was something to even look for.

He pounded his fist against the desk late one night. Steve had pushed you and Bucky to get some sleep, claiming he had some reports to look over before bed. You two had looked at him suspiciously but eventually agreed, planting loving kisses on his cheeks, and telling him not to stay up too late.

"I get cold without both of you there," you had mumbled with a sleepy yawn following. Your words almost made Steve give up for the night but then he caught a glimpse of the silver chain on your neck. Seeing you like that, using your tired, loving voice, he remembered what he was doing this for. It was you. It was all about you and your love for sentimental things.

He grudgingly agreed to be there in an hour and that seemed to please his two lovers. Except — it was way past an hour. The sky was close to daybreak when he hit the desk in frustration.

Pushing the folders away, Steve leaned back in the chair, sighing. Within seconds, footsteps came from the hall and Bucky appeared in the doorway, watching a frustrated Steve.

"Everything okay in here?" Bucky asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine," Steve nodded. "Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a bit."

But Bucky didn’t look the slightest bit convinced. He had a knowing look in his eyes which Steve tried to avoid by looking down at the now splintered desk.

"How are those reports going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, letting out an annoyed groan. Deep down he knew he couldn’t hide anything from Bucky but still, worth a shot.

He pushed all the folders away this time, leaving them at the very edge of the desk. "I did have dog tags, right?"

"That’s still bothering you, huh?" Bucky crossed the threshold into the office and made his way to one of the chairs in front of Steve’s desk. He took one of the folders and sat directly across from Steve. Casually, he thumbed through it, waiting for his partner to start talking.

Steve didn’t really want to get into it again as he had probably hounded Bucky about it all last week but acting like it wasn’t bothering him was getting him nowhere — obviously.

"Yes," Steve sighed. "I just want her to have something from each of us. It’s- It’s hard watching our girl…"

Bucky frowned, "I’m sorry, Steve. I should’ve waited to give them to her."

"No, Buck," Steve leaned forward, reaching his hand out. Bucky took the signal and leaned, placing his own hand in Steve’s. "You wanted her to have them. That’s your call. I just feel disappointed I have nothing to give."

"Well…" Bucky hummed, tilting his head in thought. Steve’s eyes furrowed, trying to get his partner to spit out whatever he was thinking. "What if we ordered you new ones?"

"Can you do that?"

"I honestly don’t know," Bucky chuckled. "But I don’t understand half of what you can do these days, so, I’d imagine there’s a way to get dog tags made."

Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair, disconnecting their touch. It seemed reasonable and would do the job except for the fact— "But they wouldn’t be in combat or- or from the actual military."

Bucky just shook his head. With an annoyed scoff, he said, "Do you think that really matters to her?"

"I guess not…"

"Steve, honey, I promise. It’s about the presentation, the show of it. Our girl is just looking for something personal from you to keep close to her," Bucky assured him. "Plus, I think we can get it updated and personalized. Maybe even write something nice just for her on the back."

Steve had to admit, his heart was jumping happily at the idea. He really couldn’t argue with anything and agreed to the plan. The only issue was — they were a bit out of touch with ordering anything online. You had always been the one to assure online packages and food deliveries arrived but now they had to take you out of the equation. While excited to surprise you, they were slightly unsure about ordering and had to enlist the help of the team who all turned out to be more than happy to assist once they explained their idea.

A few weeks later, you were laying in your shared bed, back against the headboard, body cozied up under the duvet. You were engrossed in a cheesy romance novel, waiting for Steve and Bucky to join you for the night. Eventually, the two came in, but they were still in their work attire.

You frowned at their appearance. "Aren’t you guys coming to bed?"

As you asked your question, you couldn’t help but note their unusual stance. The two men were side-by-side, standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at you. Bucky had his hands in his pockets while Steve appeared to be hiding something behind his back. You eyed them suspiciously.

"We will in a bit, doll," Bucky said. You watched him as he came around to the side of the bed. He sat down and leaned against the headboard, shifting right next to you, sneakily taking the book out of your grip. "But first, Steve has something for you."

"For- For me?" You asked, whipping your head around to face Steve. He had a bit of nervousness to him as he nodded, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge.

Silently, he handed you a small box. You eagerly accepted the item, turning it over and over in your hands. Giving it a light shake, the box made a jangling noise. "What is it?" You asked, wide-eyed looking between the two men.

Steve and Bucky both let out soft chuckles at your excitement. "You have to open it to find out," Steve said. He still had an air of anxiousness, running his hands up and down his jean-covered thighs, fidgeting.

To put your poor boyfriend out of his misery, you opened the box. At first, all you noticed was something slim and shiny. Eyes furrowed in confusion, you pulled out what appeared to be a chain. You could feel a slight heaviness to it — and then you saw it. Your jaw dropped as you tossed the box next to you. In your hands was another set of dog tags nearly identical to the ones you already had adorned on your neck — only this pair were inscribed with the name Steven Grant Rogers.

"Steve-," you gasped, staring at the tags laying in the palm of your hands. You were at a loss for words as you read the tag.

"Are- Are they okay?" Steve asked, his nervous hand came up to rest on your thigh, pulling your attention back to him.

"Are you kidding me?" You let out a breathy laugh. "They’re wonderful, honey, thank you so much."

"You’re sure?" He asked again. Bucky gave him a pointed look for his ridiculousness but that didn’t stop Steve from rambling. "I-I couldn’t find mine so, I got a new pair made. I know they’re maybe not as authentic or something but I still wanted-,"

"You had these made?" You cut in. "For me?"

Steve nodded, "You had Bucky’s, so, it was only fair you had something of mine, too."

You couldn’t hold your emotions back at his word. Tears began forming as you looked at your soft, loving partner. You let out little sniffles as you turned back to the tags, still soaking in their meaning. Bucky placed a light touch on your arm as Steve scooted closer, probably suddenly scared by your tears.

"They’re perfect, honey," you whispered as you looked back at him and leaned forward, placing a sweet kiss on Steve’s lips. He eagerly accepted, practically sighing from relief under your touch. "They’re going to go perfect with the tags from my other man." You mumbled and turned to now give Bucky a kiss, who felt very pleased to get a turn to lock lips with you.

Facing Steve again, you handed him the chain. He looked down at it, confused.

"Well, soldier, are you going to put them on me?"

Both of the men chuckled at your actions but Steve happily slid the silver chain over your neck, watching as the tags fell to your chest. Once they landed, they clang nicely with Bucky’s. It sounded like music to your ears.

"I love you both so much," you said, your hand mindlessly running over the pair of tags. "Thank you."

"We love you too, doll," Bucky said. Steve nodded in agreement.

Smiling, you gave them both quick pecks and said, "Now, are you guys coming to bed?"

Bucky scoffed, "How could we ever deny you?"

You giggled. "I don’t think you can seeing as last time I checked I was a special girl."

At your words, both their gazes dropped once again to the tags hanging between your breasts, seeming so at place there.

"You sure are, honey," Steve mumbled, placing a kiss on your cheek.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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[wandaromanova]

Can you do a fluffy wanda one (with a little angst because of course) where reader and wanda are best friends, reader wants more, but thinks wanda is interested in vision so she doesnt say anything. And then one day a mission goes wrong, and reader gets into an accident that results in her getting powers, and it makes wanda wake up and confess her feelings?

Requited Love

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, injury, that’s all!

A/N: hello! i hope you enjoy what i’ve created out of your request, anon! sorry i couldn’t think about how i could incorporate the powers part of the request! not proofread, so i apologize for any grammatical errors! join my taglist here <3

Summary: Wanda Maximoff and Y/N L/N are your typical best friends who refuse to admit their feelings for each other.

Word Count: 3.3K (had a lil too much fun with this)

(gif is not mine)

You and your best friend, Wanda, had been friends practically since the moment she had joined the team. Being the youngest Avenger, you were so excited that there would finally be another member that was close to your age. Despite the events of Sokovia, you didn’t fear the woman. If anything, it only made the urge to get closer to her stronger.

Her powers absolutely mesmerized you. From the color of her powers to the different ways she could use them to her advantage; it was mind blowing how much power she had literally at her fingertips. As time went on, you and Wanda became very close. You’d always have movie nights together in your room, which eventually led to the Sokovian woman peacefully sleeping next to you in your bed.

Not only was Wanda drop dead gorgeous, but she was genuine and humble. She had confided in you about the many different traumas she had been through and expressed how the surreal amount of grief constantly consumed her. It broke your heart to know that such an amazing person was put through so much.

Her past could’ve easily turned her into a villain, but she decided to go the opposite direction. She came to the conclusion that her powers could help others and that’s what she had chosen to do in Sokovia and up to now. It was why she had agreed to join the Avengers in the first place. Wanda knew how awful the world could be and she wanted to be there for people the way that her family had been before they passed. The amount of respect you had for Wanda was immeasurable.

Over the span of two years, you and Wanda became joined to the hip. Wanda didn’t even sleep in her own bed anymore. Before, she would just accidentally fall asleep in your room or sneak into your room in the late hours of the night to sleep with you. But now, she just barged into your room every night and slept there. She said that you kept the nightmares she had at bay and you were more than happy to be there for her if it meant she got a full night’s rest.

You both jumped at any opportunity you guys could to be on the same mission as the other. You not only wanted to spend time with her, but you wanted to protect her. Lord knows that Wanda of all people could handle herself, but it kept you at peace when you were with her; knowing that she had you to back her up. Naturally, you fell in love with your best friend.

At first, you thought you were just confusing your special platonic friendship with Wanda for romantic feelings. But sometimes you caught yourself wanting to kiss Wanda. You knew damn well that friends don’t daydream about making out with each other. So, yeah, you definitely had feelings for Wanda, but there was one thing standing in your way; Vision.

Vision basically joined the team at the same time Wanda did. He was created during the Ultron situation and has been an Avenger since then. Wanda and Vision were very close. They weren’t as close as you and Wanda were, but he was a close second. They had a bond over the mind stone that you couldn’t ever compete with. This fact discouraged you and forced you to keep your mouth shut. You’d rather keep your feelings to yourself and suffer in private than risk your friendship with Wanda.

I mean, you didn’t even know if Wanda was into girls! She could be as straight as a wooden ruler and you would most definitely embarrass yourself if you told her. Vision wasn’t exactly a man by any means, he was a robot. If Wanda were to like Vision that must mean you had a chance right? Not to be an ass, but he’s literally a hunk of metal. Regardless of all these thoughts, you knew at the end of the day that you would have to hide your feelings for the sake of maintaining the relationship you currently have with the Sokovian.

You did pretty good at hiding your feelings for awhile. You acted as if everything was normal and not like you were emotionally crying out inside every time you saw Wanda with Vision. It began to get too much when you had caught sight of the pair cooking Paprikash in the communal kitchen. Cooking was something you and Wanda used to do together. It was kind of your thing. It may seem silly, but watching her do something with Vision that used to be sacred to you both hurt.

You began to distance yourself the closer Wanda and Vision got together. What sucked even more was that Wanda didn’t even acknowledge your sudden distance. She no longer slept in your room, opting to spend her nights with Vision. You were dying inside and Wanda didn’t even care to notice.

You had a mission to get to today. Usually, Wanda would be down in the hangar whenever you were going on a mission without her, but she wasn’t there today. She was probably off somewhere with Vision, again. It stung that Wanda didn’t even want to see you off. She was so preoccupied with Vision that she didn’t even give you a second thought. A toaster was stealing your best friend who you just so happened to be madly in love with away from you. And you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

So, you reluctantly got onto the Quinjet with Steve who was accompanying you on the mission. Fury only sent you two in for this mission because it was a simple one. It didn’t require the entire team to complete. You both were to capture and detain the scientist responsible for the latest human experimentations at the hands of Hydra. From the intel gathered by S.H.I.E.L.D, their security wasn’t that bad so it would be a walk in the park for you and Steve. You had just left and you already desperately wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity in the comfort of your bed.

But first, you had to get this mission over with. The Quinjet landed a little far away from the small Hydra base. You and Steve made your way out of the jet and began to trudge your way toward the building. As you guys got closer, Steve stopped abruptly.

“No matter what, we stick together okay? Just because this should be an easy mission, doesn’t mean we should let our guard down. Understand?” He lectured you sternly as he stared at you intensely.

“Yeah. I got it, Cap.” You replied to him dismissively as you continued to make your way toward the building. You took note of the five guards that were guarding the entrance and gave Steve a nod before you both sprung into action.

After you guys had taken down the entrance guards, you both sneakily made your way into the building. It was pretty easy to find your target, seeing that the building was the size of a house. You and Steve barged into the room, the scientist whipping around quickly and freezing in shock at the sight of you both.

Steve quickly charged at the man and placed him into handcuffs. As Steve pulled the man up by the collar, forcing him to his feet, a thought crossed your mind. This is too easy. Only five guards and the professor was just conveniently in here? This had to be a setup.

Before you could voice your concerns to Steve, you felt a sharp pain rip through your shoulder as Hydra agents flooded into the room. You fell to your knees in pain as Steve threw the target to the ground. He quickly began to fight as many agents as he could. You stood up as you tried to temporarily forget the pain. You began to take on agents yourself. Despite being injured, you kicked their asses with ease.

You were down to the last agent while Steve was pulling the scientist back up to his feet, much more aggressively this time. For some reason, your thoughts went to Wanda. How would she react to your injury? Would she even bother to visit you to make sure you were okay?

Unfortunately, you had chosen the wrong time to become distracted by your thoughts of Wanda. While your thoughts were racing, you failed to notice the glint of a knife in the agent’s left hand. As you blocked one of his punches, he quickly stabbed you right in the stomach. At this, Steve jumped in to help you and made quick work of knocking out the man who stabbed you.

You fully fell to the floor this time, gasping for air. Not only were you shot, but now you got stabbed. Seriously? Did god decide you weren’t already having a shitty enough time? Steve quickly picked you up in his arms in a panic. He carried you to the Quinjet while making sure the scientist was following behind you both. Steve placed your body onto the medical table that was in the Quinjet, handcuffed the man to a railing, and sped off to the compound. He took note of how much blood you lost; it was a lot to say the least. If he didn’t get to the compound soon, he feared you wouldn’t make it; and that wasn’t an option.

The 30 minute trip to the compound turned into a 15 minute ride. Steve quickly rushed you into the medical wing of the compound and placed you into the care of Doctor Helen Cho. He knew he had to tell the team about what happened. The Avengers were a family, and you being the youngest meant you were like a child to them, well besides Wanda obviously.

Steve hurriedly made his way into the living room of the Avenger’s living quarters and made sure Jarvis informed everyone that it was an emergency. As Steve entered, everyone turned to face him with worry present on each of their faces.

“What’s wrong, Rogers? Is everything okay?” Natasha asked as she looked over his body. There was an insane amount of blood all over his star-spangled suit. “It’s Y/N.”

At Steve’s words, everyone in the room stood in shock as their jaws dropped. But no one’s feelings could compare to Wanda’s. She abruptly stood up from the couch and made her way towards Steve.

“What about her? What happened to her?” Wanda began to get angry as hints of her powers made their way to her eyes. Steve took a step back and looked at Wanda before returning his gaze back to the other people in the room. You could hear a pin drop in the silence of the room.

“We went on a mission together. It was supposed to be an easy in and out thing. But we were setup. She got shot in the shoulder and stabbed in the abdomen. She’s in the medical wing right now.” Steve spoke strongly, attempting to remain calm for the sake of the team, but he was terrified inside. Your state refused to leave his mind. Your limp body in his arms as your warm blood covered his hands.

Wanda didn’t say another word as she ran towards the elevator and impatiently hit the button to the medical wing. She didn’t bother to wait for anyone else. Nothing mattered right now except you.

Wanda had feelings for you. Ever since she met you, you were this light in the darkness that was her life. You could cheer her up when no one else could. You knew her better than she knew herself. You were not only her best friend, but you were the woman she was irrevocably in love with. She was terrified to tell you how she felt. She thought she would lose you if she had confessed how she truly felt for you. So, she remained quiet and tried to forget about her feelings for you by hanging out with Vision more. She wasn’t using Vision by any means, she genuinely did enjoy his company. But he wasn’t you.

Wanda didn’t even wait for the elevator doors to fully open as she squeezed herself through the small gap and made her way towards the medical bay doors. Before Wanda could open the door, Steve abruptly grabbed her hand, stopping her from going any further. He must’ve taken the stairs. Damn his super soldier abilities.

“Wanda. Stop. I know you’re worried about Y/N, we all are. But barging in there won’t be any help. You need to let Cho and her nurses focus on helping her.” Steve desperately tried to talk some sense into Wanda; it worked. Wanda’s shoulders slumped as she made her way towards the seating area that was right outside the doors. All she could do was sit, wait, and pray to whatever god there was that you would be okay.

Wanda didn’t even know you were going on a mission today. If she did, she would’ve went to the hangar and hugged you before she left, like she always did. Oh fuck, she didn’t even get to see you off and now look at your state. Now that she thought about it, she had been neglecting you for some time now. She let her fear of her feelings consume her. She spent more time with Vision than with you, and now she wasn’t sure if she would get the opportunity to be with you again. The thought of not being able to tell you how in love with you she was mortified her. This was the wake up call she needed.

——————————————————————————

2 hours later

After two agonizingly slow hours, Doctor Cho made her way towards the anxious group of heroes. Wanda shot up from her seat and approached Helen.

“How is she? Please, tell me she’s okay.” Wanda asks as she nervously chews on her bottom lip. “Y/N is fine. Luckily, the knife didn’t hit any major arteries. She won’t be able to make any sudden movements for the next few weeks which means no missions until I give her clearance.” At Cho’s words, the entire team was struck with relief. Wanda’s eyes lit up at the good news. You were okay. You were still here.

“Can we see her?” Steve asked from behind Wanda as he made his way to stand beside her. “Yes, shes awkward, but only one person can go in at a time. She’s very sensitive right now from the anesthesia.” Helen gave the team a smile before walking off.

Everyone looked at Wanda as she gave them a nod. Of course she had to go in first. You and Wanda may have been oblivious to each other’s feelings, but the team wasn’t. It was almost annoying how unaware you two were of how the other person felt.

Wanda quietly made her way into your room and almost let out a sigh of relief as she saw you laying on the table awake. You were trying to reach for a glass of water beside your bed, but the pain in your side made the small task a burden. Wanda quickly made her way to the table and handed you the glass of water. You were startled since you didn’t even hear her enter the room. You took the water from her hands and took a long sip before handing it back to her.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked coldly as you glared at the Sokovian woman. She was shocked at your animosity. You were never like this with her before. “I needed to make sure you were okay. I was worried sick.” Wanda frowned as she pulled a chair up to your bedside and sat in it.

“Oh. Now you suddenly remember I exist? It only took me nearly dying for you to notice me again.” You knew you weren’t being fair. You guys were just best friends and she was entitled to hang out and be with whoever she wanted. But the part of you that loved her and longed for more took over.

“Y/N. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as often. I got caught up hanging out with Vision when I should’ve been there for you.” Wanda’s eyes softened as she stared at your face. She missed you so much. She may have seen you around the compound, but she hasn’t been this close to you in what felt like decades.

“Yeah. You got caught up with Vision. Why don’t you just go back to him now. I’m fine.” You stubbornly spoke as you tore your eyes away from Wanda and stared out the window in front of your bed.

Wanda made a ballsy move and grabbed your hand in here. Thankfully, you didn’t move it away. “Y/N. I don’t care about Vision, I care about you. I love you and I mean that in more than a friendly way.” At Wanda’s words, your head snapped back to her as you looked over her features for any indication of a lie; you didn’t find any.

“I was spending time with Vision to try and forget my feelings for you. That obviously backfired and only solidified what I already knew I felt. I’m sorry it took such a terrible situation for me to finally grow the balls to tell you this. I love you Y/N.” Wanda squeezed your hand tightly as she stared at you full of love and adoration.

You were speechless. As cliche as it sounds, this was what you’ve wanted since the moment you laid eyes on her. She said the three words you’ve been longing to hear spill from her mouth. She loved you too.

“I love you too, Wanda. I’m sorry. I thought you had a thing for Vision and I let jealousy and insecurity get the better of me.” You looked down in shame as you tried to pull your hand out of Wanda’s hold, but she only gripped it tighter.

“Don’t be sorry. I completely understand. I’m so glad your okay and I’m so unbelievably happy that you feel the same way.” Wanda smiled brightly at you as you smiled right back. You guys must’ve looked like maniacs with your big, cheesy smiles, but you didn’t care.

Wanda began to slowly lean towards you. You attempted to meet her in the middle, but only ended up wincing in pain as you were reminded of your impressive stab wound. Wanda let out a laugh.

“Let me handle it, moya lyubov (my love).” Wanda said before closing the gap between you both and giving you a heated, desperate kiss. All the pent up emotions that you both had been withholding from each other were coming to light through this kiss. You guys were interrupted by the door swinging open abruptly and the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You both jumped apart as you cringed at the sting of your injuries. You turned to the door and caught sight of the team standing at the door with shit eating grins on their face.

“Sorry to interrupt you, lovebirds. But we wanted to check on Y/N too. Cho gave us the clear to come in now.” Natasha smirked at yours and Wanda’s flustered states.

“Pay up, Barnes.” Sam said as he held his hand out to Bucky, who groaned before placing 50 dollars in his hand. You and Wanda stared at the two confused, Bucky took notice of this and decided to fill you both in.

“We made a bet on when you two would get together. I said in the next two months, he said in the next two weeks. He won.” Bucky gave you both a shy, almost embarrassed smile.

Everyone in the room laughed, making you and Wanda turn even more red than before. You didn’t care about the inevitable, endless teasing you would have to endure after today. You would deal with the comments forever as long as it meant Wanda was by your side. You once thought that she didn’t feel the same, and you were so glad you were proven wrong. Sometimes, love can be requited after all.

[izusun]

*hands you an AU dump to hoard like a little goblin handing a small coin to a dragon*

OKAY so basically: after the doctor's visit where Izuku learns he's quirkless (I hc that they went when he was about five n' a half), Inko does a little bit of research on quirks and more specifically on her son's notebooks, learns that he's even more brilliant at quirk analysis than she originally suspected, and (after looking at some not great quirkless statistics) she instead informs Izuku that no, he's had a quirk all along! It's an analysis quirk!

So she updates the quirk registry, and Izuku goes through his life believing he has an analysis quirk, albeit teased for being a late bloomer, but he still can't shake the insecurity being quirkless for that one and a half year gave him.

He does research on all sorts of things, hacking, knife throwing, first aid, and building his own support gear and takes to all of it like a duck to water. He also does research on UA's policy for support gear in the entrance exam (cause surely they've gotta have a policy for non-offensive quirks like Koda and Hagakure) and finds that he can take one with him if he builds it himself. He goes fuckin bonkers.

Anyways: he trains with Katsuki, cause they're relationship is pretty good since Izuku has a 'quirk.' They both demolish the entrance exam. (Also Izuku kinda swears a lot because Katsuki rubs off on him)

Aizawa doesn't notice a goddamn thing is amiss until the battle trials on the second day (he decides to shadow All Might that day), where when he was using his quirk to silence his students while Izuku was rambling, he just didn't stop, as if he didn't notice anything was wrong. It happens again during the USJ.

So at some point during the sports festival, Nedzu (who is now intrigued because of Aizawa's complaining) invites Izuku into his office during a free period and lets him go ham on analysis, all while Aizawa is secretly there erasing Izuku's 'quirk.' Nedzu invites Izuku to be his personal student (making Aizawa go grey), he says yes, and then Nedzu drops the absolute BOMBSHELL that Izuku is actually quirkless. Cue an existential crisis.

(Also Izuku gets captured at the training camp alongside Katsuki because of his "analysis quirk," wonder how well that goes for him~)

- Goblin anon (sorry this one was kinda long)

GOBLIN?? DUDE???? HOLY SHIT I KNEW YOUR AUS ARE ALWAYS PHENOMENAL BUT THIS RIGHT HERE??? D U D E

i misunderstood the prompt a bit but i genuinely don’t know how to backtrack, so here you go goblin. sorry again o(TヘTo)

ok first of, inko taking on a stronger stance to support her son? love that of her. like, she doesn’t say sorry when izuku turned to look at her and cried that he can’t be like all might. instead, she took him in her arms and assures him that he will be a great hero. at first, of course half of it is lip service because she doesn’t know how to help her quirkless boy be a hero, since, you know, heroes need quirks.. (or do they)

and then she comes across a quirkless self help group which rang many many warning bells in her head. what kind of life do quirkless people live when a google research of them resulted in subsequent pages of results like how to stay safe when quirkless, or how to find jobs when quirkless, or quirkless mortality rates?

she fears for izuku, until she notices that her son’s smart. too smart for his age, but inko thought she’s just being biased. but izuku’s wit is something many people notice, for an instance, when izuku goes to the park to play and his friends’ (the few ones who stayed) parents tell her that her son’s smart for a quirkless person, she realizes that izuku’s wit is far more vast than normal.

then a thought worms into her head but wouldn’t it be bad to lie…but also, no one would be any the wiser.

further pushed by all the statistics she keeps seeing, or the lack thereof, about quirkless people, she makes the decision and pours it to izuku.

izuku who’s far smarter than his age and understood what his mom is asking from him. izuku who already saw the disparities between quirked and quirkless people at the tender age of five. izuku who knows what it means to lie about something as personal as a quirk, but realizes that it’s necessary for him to do so if he wants to live a “normal” life.

so he agrees; he tells inko that he’ll work even harder to sharpen his mind, and to keep expanding his knowledge.

when izuku’s quirk file is officially updated, he watches how his peers and teachers revert back into treating him as izuku. he regains his old friends, but he chose to drop them because he doesn’t want to surround himself with people who thought he was less for being quirkless.

katsuki stayed, surprisingly. katsuki stayed and everyday he kept bothering izuku to “get your quirk already!” katsuki stayed because he can’t fathom that the smartest boy in their class (of course not as smart as him, psshh) is quirkless. deku couldn’t be quirkless. (but if he found out that izuku, indeed, is, i wonder what would happen…)

katsuki was one of the loudest to celebrate when izuku announced that his quirk arrived.

“finally!” he screams and bothers izuku about the semantics of his quirk. he really wasn’t surprised to find out that izuku has an analysis quirk because he thought that nothing else would better be suited for izuku.

he doesn’t know that izuku pours so much of his time into learning and studying, often bypassing basics and intros to take more of the developed courses that are usually recommended for older ages. he doesn’t know that izuku is just a naturally smart kid with the ability to fill the gaps of his young mind with knowledge upon knowledge, storing and stacking them until he feels that he’s laid a sturdy foundation for his fake quirk.

then izuku began threading into different areas. he learns how to get into cyberspaces; hacking into accounts and delving more into how to access private information. he doesn’t thread too close lest he gets caught, but he learns the logistics of maneuvering around the web and burrowing in empty spaces to branch out his own. he creates and designs web algorithms for himself, just so he doesn’t trigger anyone who is looking into the web movements. he hones this and uses it to access more information.

then when he deems it enough, he turns his attention to something more tangible and something more physical. he learns other ways to be a hero; how to fight without a physical quirk, how to win against bigger opponents, how to use analysis quirk in fights.

izuku becomes more than a fake analysis quirk user; he creates it.

mental quirks are hard to describe, more so to compress, thus he creates new definitions of an analysis quirk. what used to be a silly lie is now a tangible fact that izuku believes in. because what makes a quirk? because what makes analysis a quirk? he learns these semantics (often political) and uses it to his advantage.

then he finally threads to hero analysis. at first it were classmates he analyzed; eyes running quickly at their forms and watching with great interest before calculating everything he’s seen and transversing it with the things he learned, and bridges these two facts together to create an analysis. it was a struggle at first: he didn’t know which to put emphasis on until he realizes, he doesn’t need to. he weaves them together and lets his analysis run long and watches how his hobby comes into fruition.

following his classmates are current heroes. these were more tough and more fun, and any of the information is less shared. he doesn’t tell his classmates or teachers about his analyses, only katsuki. and katsuki’s breath hitch every damn time at izuku’s talent quirk.

it is in their second year of middle school that midoriya begins to incorporate the facts with himself to create physical performances. the issues and things he learned through observing are now practiced by himself. he calculates the best way to fight with a body as petite as his, often taking examples from pro-hero hawks and other women heroes. their agilities and physicality suit izuku’s young body; he doesn’t see the merit in punching his way through things when he physically cannot.

so he learns ways to ease his muscles. he learns ballet and gymnastics; lets his muscles contort and mend themselves anew. he finds his balance and roots himself firmly, and learns to calculate his actions so he doesn’t waste his energy. katsuki doesn’t say anything, but he sees izuku’s dance and falls in love.

then in the spring of their third year of middle school, izuku learns how to build and handle weapons.

this is the easiest. izuku learns that weapons aren’t tools, but extensions of his arms and hands. they are not to be revered and not to be depended on because they can fail. instead, he learns to wield weapons as though they are parts of his bodies. he learns how to use swords and often narrowing to wooden sticks that can be picked up anywhere; he learns how to fire guns and how to hide daggers in his uniform. he learns that his body is the best weapon to use and that tools are just arsenal to help him win.

then he learns how to build them.

by summer, izuku begins reaching into UA’s servers. they are hard codes to crack, but not impossible. it takes him five days to access old entrance exam videos. the next day, the videos are snuffed and he is left to try digging deeper into UA.

he fails.

nezu must have caught onto his codes and proceeded to build walls against it.

so he slithers out. but a five minute video of last year’s entrance exam is enough for izuku because he learns two things: one, heroes must defeat villains and two, heroes must save others.

izuku prepares for this. unknowingly, katsuki is taught these same principles. katsuki would grumble and tell him that he knows what heroes must do, but izuku continues to hammer it down to him.

by the time of the UA entrance exam, izuku falls into the ease of having a fake quirk. he passes the written exam with flying colours and although it took three teachers to approve his support gears (present mic had to pull in powerloader, midnight, and hound dog to ensure that the well designed support gears are made by the hero student examinee and not by a support student examinee. majima saw the works and begged nezu to allow izuku to be his student.), izuku still succeeds and dominates the entrance exam.

when the zero pointer was released, he had flung himself towards the girl crushed by debris and yanks her out. he doesn’t waste a modified grenade to explode the zero pointer because through his calculations, doing so would not only create more collateral damage, but would also endanger the examinee in his arms because she still would be caught in the crossfire.

nezu hums in appreciation from the screening room, after all, smart minds always do think alike.

izuku gets a whopping 92 in the physical aspects of the entrance exam.

katsuki gets 85.

aizawa gleefully takes them in.

izuku thinks that no one will ever know of his and inko’s secret, but one look at nezu’s beady eyes and he knew that the stoat knew. it became a game to them, then. a game to see who else would realize.

and while izuku is smart, he doesn’t realize that nezu has basically taken him as his personal student the moment he and izuku had created a bet.

it takes two months for aizawa to figure things out. surprisingly, he is the only one to do so and he only realizes due to the many untimely attacks of LoV.

——

how angst would it be if katsuki realizes that izuku’s always been quirkless during their captivity in the LoV’s hideout.

[binxyu]

Being the main writer for the college paper made it particularly hard for people not to be in your business because, well, you were in their’s. Thus, everyone in the school was aware of your relationship with Juyeon and Hyunjae. But, that doesn’t stop a flirty athlete from hitting on you.

>>Pairing: Lee Jaehyun x Lee Juyeon (doms) x fem!reader (sub) | athletes!jaehyun and juyeon x writer!reader

>>Word Count: 4.3k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Requested / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Choking, creampie, cum eating, cum play, double penetration, exhibitionism/public sex, harassment (not from the boys), marking, oral (giving + receiving), possessiveness, praise, saliva, and unprotected sex

The reminder you had set on your phone was not enough to take your focus off the man in front of you.

Truth be told, you were quite forgetful for a person with such a tight schedule.

Writing on your hand was tried. It didn’t really work considering you washed your hands consistently throughout the day (damn the germs in colleges), smudging the ink to an unreadable blur on your hand.

Thankfully, that’s how you had met your boyfriends. Yeah, plural. There’s an s there.

You had been rushing towards an assignment you had been given for the paper. It was a request to interview some of the top students in the music department and damn late wasn’t even enough of a word to describe how long ago you were supposed to be there.

Showing up a couple hours late resulted in most of the students already gone, hiding away in their dorms for the afternoon.

But, there were two students still waiting for you. Lee Jaehyun (although he likes people to call him Hyunjae) and Lee Juyeon.

They were your saving grace for your paper and, in return, you let them take you out on a date.

Now, months later, your relationship with them still ran strong.

But, apparently your hearing didn’t because the reminder sound on your phone didn’t even register as you write down practically everything the athlete was telling you.

He actually was a classmate of your’s and a pretty popular one at that. The whole school practically knew about him.

“And that’s how I beat the record”, you nodded sweetly, keeping that signature interviewer smile on your face. It did a fantastic job of getting people to open up and this guy was no exception.

“So, one last question, are you dating anyone?”, you weren’t asking for yourself. Especially not when you were already quite... busy... with the two men you were already dating. It was more for the majority of the female population in the school who did like him.

Besides, everyone in the school knew about you and, more specifically, your polyamorous relationship. It wasn’t seen everyday to be fair. You three stuck out like a sore thumb.

“No, I haven’t really been looking”, bullshit. You had been to the football games, the man loved to rile up the crowd. He practically chucked his shirt into a girl’s face the other night when it was “too hot”.

It was just above 50 degrees that night.

“I see. Thank you for the interview”, you smiled and he nodded, smiling back at you before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his mind.

“Are you looking?”, he must have noticed the shocked expression you had because his hand encased your’s, seemingly trying to soothe you as his thumb traced the back of your hand.

All it did was make you more anxious.

“No, sorry, I’m not. I’m actually taken”, there goes that reminder again but you ignored it. It was probably just your reminder to take your gummy vitamins or something stupid the boys put in there because they cared. Maybe a little too much sometimes.

“Oh, by who?”, it wasn’t a curious question. He didn’t believe you. His tone said it.

“By us”, uh oh.

Turning around, you were met with your two lovers. They hovered over you like angry wolves and you could only feel like a little lamb underneath them.

The athlete had flirted with you before and that only made the situation more intense. Of course the football player knew about your relationship. It just didn’t seem to matter to him.

Until, well, now you guess.

“You didn’t come”, shit. So, that was the reminder?

You had a date with them after this interview and it completely flew out of your mind like a paper lost in the wind.

“Sorry, I lost track of time”, they nodded and, for a moment, you thought you saw their eyes soften as they look at you but they just returned back to those icy cold stares.

Even the muscular athlete was scared. Everyone knew how possessive your boyfriends were.

It was pretty obvious after a particularly ignorant party animal laid his drunk hands on you. Before he could do anything else, he was already thrown on the floor with Juyeon’s fist landing on his cheek while Hyunjae pulled you back into his chest like he was some kind of shield.

It was hot, you weren’t going to lie, but it did make you a little worried for people you truly did just want to be friends with.

“Hey, babies, let’s go. Let’s go have our date now”, you placed each of your hands on their chests. It was a gentle move that always seemed to calm them and you smiled as you felt their heartbeats slow down, your own starting to match theirs as you felt it through your hands.

“Fine but you”, Hyunjae pointed with precision at the man, “stay away from her. She doesn’t like you and she’s said no multiple times. She’s ours” the man finally nodded and ran off while you were stuck standing there with a wave of arousal shooting to your core.

Ignore it. You can’t be walking around with marks again-

The internal scold fell short as the boys wrapped you up in a hug. You could practically feel the warmth from their anger coming off of them in waves.

“Next time listen to your reminders. We set them for you for a reason”, Hyunjae scolded you, grabbing your phone to turn off the pesky sound. You really didn’t hear it. Maybe your hearing does need to be checked.

“I know I know. I’m forgetful”, you pout and the boys looked at it, wanting nothing more than to kiss your pouty lips until they’re swollen. Juyeon just chuckles instead and ruffles your hair sweetly.

It was such a sharp contrast to how cold he looked a minute ago but you were used to it. They were usually cold to others but were exceptionally sweet to you.

Well, most of the time.

“Come on, dory. We’ve got to get outside”, that’s always been Hyunjae’s favorite nickname for you. Sadly, you couldn’t argue that it didn’t suit you.

Sometimes you even forget what your name is.

“Okay”, you nodded and held their hands, walking securely in between them. You always did feel safe with your boyfriends and being without them was honestly terrifying. They were like your bodyguards.

Out in the beautiful field of the campus was a little picnic blanket, laid out with plenty of your favorite foods.

They always loved to spoil you and, while the sight in front of you wasn’t much of a surprise considering it was their favorite form of dates, it made you happy nonetheless.

“Aw, thank you boys”, you gave them both a peck on the cheek and sat down. You weren’t much for public displays of affection.

Hand holding? That was fine. It was their way of saying that you were their’s. But, the bigger things like kissing or hugging? That was more of a private thing for you.

Those were actions you did when the three of you could safely display your love for one another without being judged because, let’s be honest, you’re not much of the outgoing type.

Sure, you have to talk to lots of people for your writing, but that didn’t mean you liked to. You actually liked to keep to yourself.

It was odd considering Hyunjae and Juyeon were quite popular due to their singing skills. Everyone wanted them but they only had their eyes set on you.

They helped you sit down, filling up your plate with delicious treats that almost had you drooling. You just realized how hungry you were when your stomach let out the most obnoxious growl you had ever heard.

Okay- maybe you also forget to take care of yourself. When you’re busy the last thing on your mind is what your body wants. Just the task at hand is important.

“Dory, do we need to start setting reminders for food and stuff too?”, Hyunjae shook his head as Juyeon handed you the plate of food. You quickly shook your head back, taking a bite of the fruit sitting on the plate in your lap.

“No, I just got busy. I’m not too hungry”, Hyunjae looked at you with the most untrusting look. He knew you and he knew that you frequently “got busy” and that meant you frequently forgot to take those vitamins or to at least drink water.

As you ate, you started to circle the important details you had written down during the interview, making a clear note in your head to add those facts into the paper.

Sad thing was: the athlete barely gave you anything to work with. Most of it was just bragging or hitting on you.

“What an asshole”, you sighed and rested your forehead on Juyeon’s shoulder. He simply chuckled and started to run his fingers through your hair. You weren’t a saint by any means but cussing was rare. You found it to be a bad habit in public while you swore like a sailor in the safety of your bedroom.

“Frustrated?”, Hyunjae asked, rubbing your back with his large palm, working the knot he knew you had. They really did know your body so well.

“Yeah, he didn’t really give me anything to work with. Just flirting”, you didn’t mean to let the last part slip out. It was just what you thinking about and sometimes that filter in your brain was clogged with all the useless information you kept there.

“Maybe you could do your report on someone else?”, surprisingly, the response was calm and you had to let out a sigh of relief.

“Maybe. I’d have to ask”, you were the writer for the school but it didn’t mean you had free will. Everything had to be ran by someone else. Every decision.

“Alright, I’d feel much more comfortable if you didn’t have to talk to that guy again”, you nodded in agreement.

God forbid something go right because weeks later, after one failed attempt at switching stories, you were put on the athlete’s case once again. This time it was because he was the reason the school won against their rivals.

So, there you sat on the desk chair. You had just finished your journalism class and, ironically, the jerk was in the class with you. You both just agreed to do the interview in the classroom.

You had already told the boys about it and they promised to check in soon. You were worried but also thankful. Your gut had an awful feeling about this guy.

As you were reaching for your notepad and pen, a hand stopped you. It was wrapped around your wrist and you looked up in surprise to see the athlete’s eyes sparkling with mischief.

That can’t be good.

“Come on, no one has denied me before. Why won’t you go out with me?”, it made you scoff and you yanked your wrist from his cold, rubbing the red flesh with your other hand.

“Because I’m taken. So, drop it”, that seemed to strike a nerve. He looked furious and fear flowed through your body when he got up.

Before he could reach you, a hand gripped the collar of his shirt, lifting him up and throwing him out of the room. Juyeon rushed to you, gently wiping away tears with his thumbs.

Wait- you were crying? You hadn’t even noticed.

Hyunjae seemed to take the high road and just simply shut the door in the student’s face, locking him out.

They honestly rarely fought but when they did it was brutal. That’s why they tried to never do it in front of you.

“Are you okay? He didn’t touch you?”, you reassured him you were fine by letting him look you over, his eyes quickly looking over you as if you had some hidden life threatening injury.

After some time, you were already feeling better. The boys had made it their mission to make you laugh as much as possible in the classroom, doing silly dances and even tickling you. They just loved your laugh too much.

“Baby, I have an idea for your newspaper”, Hyunjae looked a little dazed. Well, more than dazed. You couldn’t blame him considering you had all been playing a game of cards and you sucked so fucking bad at it. Therefore, your little game of stripping if you lost resulting in the boys completely clothed while you sat there completely bare.

“And what is that?”, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. Juyeon pulled you in between his legs and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to keep you warm. Plus, his hold was barely below your breasts and he truly did love those.

“Make it a smut”, you gasped when Hyunjae connected his lips with your’s harshly, a little more rough than usual. Then, it hit you, they held all that anger in just to use it on you.

While you would never actually write a smut for the school paper (unless you really wanted to be fired), you liked to idea of using it to rile them up. They loved your writing and, more specifically, the wonderful sex scenes you wrote.

Anytime you were busy, you’d write them one and then you’d be happy to oblige to their request to act it out when you got back to your dorm. Sometimes they were short scenes and sometimes they were long. Either way, the boys were happy to help you fulfill your fantasies.

The only difference today is that there is no prompt. They get to make up the story themselves.

“Do you want me to tell everyone how good you two fuck me? How well you stretch me out?”, just your words alone had Juyeon’s erection desperately trying to escape the confinement of his jeans. You could feel the bulge against your back and you watched as the wetness started to coat your thighs.

“Yes, tell everyone how good we make you feel”, you nodded in agreement and looked at the door, thankful that there was no windows uncovered in the room.

Finally, feeling safe, you turned around and started to unzip Juyeon’s jeans, pulling it down his legs along with his boxers. You simply tossed them, watching them land on the surface of one of the desks.

Hyunjae wasn’t far behind, removing his own clothes and doing a similar action to them, discarding them as if they were the trash beneath his feet.

“Turn around”, you nodded, turned your body back around and you immediately knew what he wanted. You leaned down to make yourself level with his cock, your eyes running over the veins and the angry red tip. Your ass was right where the man wanted it, high up in front of him.

Your lips wrapped around his shaft, running your tongue along the sides to coat it in your saliva. It always made the movements a bit easier. Juyeon groaned and dove his tongue down your slit, suckling at your clit once he reached it.

The moan you let out sent a vibration through his sensitive tip, causing his thighs to shake slightly. It was a beautiful sight.

Not forgetting about your other boyfriend, you looked up to make eye contact with Hyunjae. He licked his lips as he watched you practically gag on the large cock that belonged to Juyeon.

He was always a bit of a voyeur and, as much as he loved the sight, he couldn’t wait any longer. He sat on his knees next to you and moved his own cock closer to your mouth.

Hyunjae was bigger than Juyeon, stretching you out beyond belief but Juyeon was longer, hitting your cervix with every thrust. Both were a perfect mix of pleasure and pain. Different but well balanced.

You brought your head back, releasing Juyeon from your mouth and you replaced where your mouth had been with your hand, jerking the man off. A long string of saliva connected your mouth to his but you couldn’t care because Hyunjae’s dick was far too tempting to forget.

You wrapped your mouth around his cock now, feeling your jaw lock slightly from the sheer volume you had taken in. He was just as delicious as the previous one and you couldn’t help yourself from sucking him like he was your favorite lollipop. To be honest, he was.

Juyeon slipped a finger inside of your dripping cunt and you whimpered, listening to the sound of your pussy clenching around the digit, soaking it in your wetness.

“I think she can take both of us now”, you stopped for a moment, a little surprised. Sure, you three had discussed double penetration but you never really felt ready. Could you really handle that much?

Maybe you could.

“Let’s do it”, your words came out muffled since you were still infatuated with the taste of Hyunjae’s dick. The boys smirked at one another and Hyunjae gripped your hair to pull you off of him. Your hand instinctively let go of Juyeon’s dick too, missing the feeling of having something to play with.

You never liked to sit still but you knew you probably were going to have to after this session.

“Up here then, baby”, Hyunjae chuckled as you yelped, his arms under your body as he laid you across the desk. You winced when a pencil sharpener landed on the floor off the desk, probably breaking into pieces.

How had no one heard you before this? You had no idea.

Juyeon got up off the floor, rushing to Hyunjae’s side. Hyunjae held your thigh and pushed it open more, taking in the beautiful sight of your glistening pussy. It was his favorite work of art and Juyeon wanted nothing more than to continue the feast he was in the middle of.

“Alright, we’ll go one at a time, okay? If we need to stop then tell us. You okay with this still?”, Juyeon asked softly. Despite how cold they were, they still asked for permission and it was especially important now.

“I’m okay with it. I’ll tell you if you have to stop”, you nodded and looked up at the two. Fuck, you were so lucky.

They both had little stars in their eyes whenever they looked at you and it always reminded you that they were indeed your stars. Those little stars in their eyes only lit up when they looked at you.

Hyunjae decided to go first as the bigger of the two, gently easing his way into you. The stretch was slightly uncomfortable at first but no longer painful. You had adjusted to both of them rather quickly solo but together? That may be a bit harder.

Right when he brushed against that specific spot inside of you, you covered your mouth and moaned, gripping the edge of the desk.

Hyunjae watched you, smirking when he realized you were already becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. He loved watching you try to hold onto anything to keep your grounded to reality. He always seemed to bring you to cloud 9.

“All in. Now you’ll take Juyeon too, right? You’ll be a good girl and take him too?”, you nodded obediently and looked between your legs, noticing that Hyunjae had completely bottomed out inside of you. You already seemed so full, a bulge present in your stomach from where Hyunjae had settled.

Truly, no one could make you feel this good with so little effort but them.

Juyeon gripped your other thigh and pressed small kisses there, a gentle reminder that it was okay to stop him. That he loved you.

He sucked a few marks to the skin, making you whine because once they start they don’t stop. You’ll be covered in marks by the end of the hour.

Once you were spread wider, almost completely folded, Juyeon guided his cock in beside Hyunjae’s. Now, that hurt.

“Slower! Slower please”, Juyeon quickly nodded, noticing that your eyes were watering. He gently wiped them away and stayed still for a moment so you could get used to the stretch. When you nodded, he slowly moved again and you felt your vagina quickly adjust to the size. Like you were made to handle both.

And, now, you couldn’t stop moaning under your hand. It did very little to muffle the noises but it was your only hope of not getting caught.

Hyunjae was pressed against your g-spot as Juyeon had taken it upon himself to settle his tip against your cervix. And, inside of you, their cocks rubbed against each other in an unspoken competition to see who could go deeper.

Of course, Juyeon would win that category but that didn’t matter to Hyunjae.

Both watched their bulges in your stomach as one pulled out and pushed back in. Then, they started alternating until you were so stretched out that they could move together in perfect unison.

The sounds of skin slapping filled the room as they fucked you raw, sharing you in the most perfect way. Everything felt so good that you could already feel the knot forming in your stomach, begging to be released and coat their cocks in your cum.

“You like it, hm? Does it feel good?”, Juyeon teased as he watched your eyes roll back and your nails dig into the wood beneath you. You nodded but your love didn’t like that. He gripped your throat, squeezing it slightly right where he needed to.

The blissful feeling only became more unbearable as you felt some oxygen escape your throat. Tears spilled down your cheeks before he let go, allowing you to breathe.

“Yes! Fuck, I love it!”, the boys leaned down to suck marks all over your breasts, stomach, and hips. Still easy to hide but you knew that wasn’t going to last long.

Their hips snapped against your core as they moved, Hyunjae’s pelvis bone rubbing against your clit perfectly. It made your mouth hang open in a tiny scream and you couldn’t hold it anymore, squirting all over the two as you came.

You had never done that and you were scared that they would hate it but the bright smiles on their faces made you relax. It made you feel good and that’s all that mattered to them.

As the thrusts continued, you squirmed from the overstimulation and Juyeon had to pin you down by your wrists to keep you from falling off the desk.

Their movements became more sloppy and they came together, filling up your clenching cunt with their cum. You felt way too full with all of it and their cocks still inside of you, tapping Juyeon’s arm in a silent plea.

He understood and nodded at Hyunjae, the both of them pulling out to milk the rest of their orgasm’s on whatever they could find. Your thighs, clit, stomach, chest, arms, etc. You looked like the filthiest thing they’ve ever seen and they couldn’t be more proud.

Juyeon put his clothes back on and went out to grab a towel from the locker room as Hyunjae just stared at the cum spilling out of you and down the side of the unfortunate wooden desk.

He seemed to be deep in thought as you tried to breathe correctly, his finger entering your hole without warning and you looked down to see him pull it out. He looked you dead in the eye as he licked off the mixture of cream, humming happily when he found out he loved the taste.

“We taste delicious together”, he leaned down and held your ankles as he started to lap at the cum dripping out of you, eating it up like it was a five star meal. You shivered from the feeling of his warm muscle meeting your cold skin as he licked you clean, licking his lips every time he came up for air.

“How in the world am I going to write an article when that is in my head?”, you motioned to the sight of the cum dripping down his chin. His lips were swollen and his brown locks stuck to his forehead from the sweat. He looked ravishing.

“Smut”, he popped the m for emphasis and you shook your head, letting him kiss you so you could taste it too. It tasted like the best mixture of fruit and you found yourself diving your tongue in his mouth for more.

“Oh yeah, we definitely have to stay together if this is how good we taste”, you giggled and Juyeon had entered just in time to get a taste too. He kissed you, swirling his tongue inside of your mouth before he pulled away. He licked his lips and acted as if he was critiquing a meal.

“I’d have to give my thanks to the chef”, he joked and you smiled, letting out a little chuckle as you tried to sit up but your legs were not having it and neither were your boyfriends.

They rubbed your thighs as you laid back down, trying to ease the soreness in them. Juyeon kissed your hand lovingly and your heart swelled from all the love you felt for the two.

You had no doubt that they were really the ones you were going to spend your life with.

“Looks like the school newspaper is going to have to wait. Unless you feel like writing on a cum stained desk”, Hyunjae chuckled and you huffed, knowing that that paper was definitely not going to be done by its due date.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 21 - Nowhere to Run [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood, nightmares.

Word Count: 4300

Summary: Everyone needs a shelter.

For all your life, your sister had always said she hated watching horror movies with you because you would always criticize every character and their choices in the movie.

Who would even stay where they were when they knew there was danger outside, when they knew there was something coming for them?

You had never thought you’d learn the answer first hand;

Because there was nothing else to do, and because that was exactly what you were doing.

Spencer and the rest of his team had sent you away from that basement so that you could get some fresh air and at least attempt to get away from the greeting written on the wall with blood but you knew it was impossible.

There was no running away from that, you had seen it already.

You dangled your legs off the pier back and forth, keeping your gaze on the lake that looked so calm that it was almost like a painting. Funny, you hadn’t ever stopped to enjoy it when you were still a child, you had never actually sat there on the pier to take a breath, wrapped in the safety that would soon disappear.

The footsteps coming closer pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned you head as Spencer sat down next to you.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you croaked out and he ran his fingers through his curls.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You shook your head, “I’m not sure what home is for me at this point, to be honest with you,” you murmured, “Besides I heard the other agents talking, you guys are going to be pretty busy the moment the rest of your team gets here.”

He heaved a sigh, biting inside his cheek but you kept your gaze on the lake.

“It makes it official right?” you asked, “All these murders…It’s not really about my father’s legacy. It’s about me.”

He stole a look at you, “Y/N…”

“It’s okay professor,” you said, “Trust me, I’m not going to run and scream.”

“The profile is changing constantly with every piece of evidence-“

“Spencer.”

He let out a breath, pursing his lips.

“It is pointing that way so far,” he muttered, “It doesn’t matter though. His legacy or an obsession with you, we’re still going to catch him.”

A silence fell upon you and you cleared your throat, pointing at the woods on the other side of the lake.

“Mina and I used to play the princess and the monster over there,” you said, “I mean… It was either me who was the princess or Mina and I were saving some imaginary princess because Mina wanted to be friends with her.” You used air quotes, “I don’t know whose shock was more fake when she came out, mine or mom’s.”

He let out a small laugh, “Yeah?”

“Mm hm, and right over there,” you pointed at the right, “Linc chased me with a worm in his hand to scare me off, and I ended up falling into the damn lake.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Then Mina pushed him into the lake too and we all got grounded for the whole weekend.” You let out a breath and pointed back at the cabin with your thumb, “And right there, dad showed me how to kill someone for the first time.”

His head shot up, “What?”

You scoffed, “He didn’t tell you that during those sessions?”

Spencer shook his head, frowning.

“He taught me…” you wetted your lips, “How to- how to hunt, that’s what he called it. Predator and prey. After teaching me how to analyze places to find a weapon, he taught me how to find my way in the woods. Just in case. He used to um-“ you cleared your throat, “I don’t really remember all of it, I don’t know how much of it are nightmares or memories, but I remember once he dragged me here in the middle of the night, and he opened the door and there was this man…”

“Petal honey, don’t get so close to him,” your father called out from the kitchen he sharpened the knife as you took a step closer to the man who was gagged and bleeding profusely, still whimpering on the floor. Even in the dim light you could see the look of terror on his face and your heart skipped a beat as you turned your head to look at your father.

“Daddy, he-“ you shifted your weight from one foot to other, “Maybe we can just leave him like this. He’d be dead by the morning.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked before getting closer to you, flipping the knife in his hand and the man started yelling through the gag, but it was muffled. Your father extended his hand, motioning at the huge teddy bear you were hugging closer to your chest and you bit on your lip, then handed him that.

“You can get the teddy back after you answer 3 questions right, you know the rules,” he told you, “Alright, if I wanted him to die quickly, where would I stab?”

“Jugular.”

“Where’s the jugular?”

You pointed at the man’s neck, “There.”

“Good. What if I wanted him to suffer for hours with just one stab wound?”

You paused and scrunched up your nose, forcing your mind for the information before you looked up at him.

“In the stomach,” you said, “Stomach acid hurts.”

He thought for a second, then handed you the teddy back.

“Good job honey,” he said and walked to the man with the knife in his hand.

“I couldn’t do anything,” you pressed your lips together, “For hours and hours he tortured him and when we got back home, I went to bed and the next morning I wouldn’t stop shivering, I kept throwing up and my mom thought I had the flu so we ended up not coming to the cabin that weekend. I know how he—” you clicked your tongue, “I know how he pretends to be a normal guy. During those interviews, that documentary, even in those sessions with you he keeps pretending like he’s normal, but I know him. I know the real monster and I…”  you sniffled and cleared your throat, “Profiler or not, you have no idea what he’s capable of. He put me through actual hell, Spencer. No wonder I can’t remember half of this shit, I think I’d lose my mind if I did.”

“Y/N…”

“I didn’t stop him.”

He frowned, “How old were you?”

“Seven.”

“You couldn’t have stopped him even if you wanted to,” Spencer told you, “You were a child.”

“I could’ve told someone,” you murmured, looking at the lake, “I could’ve done something.”

“You were a child,” he repeated, “Children trust their parents, okay? You know it as well as I do that he’s a master at manipulation. Whatever he has done, it’s not your fault.”

“I doubt those bodies in the basement would agree with you,” you managed to say and let out a humorless chuckle, “Besides, I’m my father’s daughter, remember? You told me so yourself.”

The impact of your words would’ve been surprising if you weren’t so distracted by your own misery. He pulled back as if you had just slapped him, his hazel eyes searching your face and he swallowed thickly, opening and closing his mouth like he was at loss for words.

“I didn’t mean—” he paused, shaking his head “Y/N, that wasn’t the truth.”

You grabbed the cigarette out of your purse and lit it, dangling your legs back and forth over the pier.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged your shoulders, “You’re not the first person to think that, and weirdly enough, you’re not the first ex to think that either-“

“That’s not what I think,” he insisted, “Nothing about you even suggests that you’re anything like him, behavior or psychological wise. I just wanted to—“ he hesitated for a moment, his jaw clenching, “Hurt you back.”

You tried to smile, still keeping your gaze on the lake as you exhaled the smoke.

“Congratulations professor, you’re pretty good at that.”

A silence fell upon you both as you twirled the cigarette between your fingers.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was so gentle that you turned your head to look at him, “I really am. I never should’ve hit below the belt, not like that.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No really,” you insisted, “I don’t want to talk about that anymore, I’m just so—“ you closed your eyes for a moment “God, I’m just so tired Spencer. You have no idea how tired I am.”

“I know.”

“And it just doesn’t end,” you murmured and opened your eyes, “Right? I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months now, and everything is getting so out of my control.”

“It will end soon.”

“But we don’t know that,” you insisted as almost a hysterical laugh escaped from your lips, “Do you want to hear the worst part? I don’t think this feeling will ever go away. At this point, I don’t even remember how it feels like not to be afraid.”

He heaved a sigh, then looked over his shoulder when Luke approached you two.

“Sorry guys,” he said, shifting his weight, “But um- Reid, we need you in there.”

“Can’t someone else-“

“Don’t,” you shook your head as you stood up and dusted off your jeans, “Seriously. Besides, the sooner you catch this guy, the sooner…I don’t know, the sooner things go back to normal, whatever that means.”

“You can’t just drive home like this.”

“I’ll drive her,” Luke said, making you turn your head,

“Dude, aren’t you needed here too?”

“I’m going to go back to help out Rossi,” he said, “Not all of the team has to be here, I mean-“ he nodded at Spencer, “We’ve got our genius here, he’s got it covered. I can take the babysitting duty.”

“No pastries for you anymore.”

“I would like to rephrase my statement,” he said quickly, making you smile before you shrugged your shoulders.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

“Y/N-“ Spencer started but you shot him a look.

“I’m fine,” you said, “Go do your Sherlock stuff, professor. Solve the case so that I can start planning weddings again instead of hanging around creepy cabins. I’m just gonna go home and get drunk, so you’ll probably get a voicemail or two from me, just saying.”

“Can’t wait,” Spencer smiled softly and you followed Luke to your car, then handed him the keys and got in the passenger seat. He started the car and you slipped a little in the seat, leaning your knees on the dash.

“How are you holding up?” Luke asked you and you heaved a sigh.

“I feel like I’m in a horror movie to be honest with you,” you muttered, “Who the fuck writes on a wall with blood, I mean like who are you, Michael Myers?”

“I didn’t mean the case,” he stole a look at you and you raised your brows.

“Ah, that,” you said, “Well, I don’t have a bff that sets me up with people in night clubs, so there’s that.”

He hissed in a breath, “Garcia told you.”

“Mm hm,” you looked out of the window, “No hard feelings, don’t worry. I dated lots of frat boys back when I was in college, so I’m very familiar with the bro code.”

“You dated frat boys?” he made a face and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah I started from the bottom and worked my way up to the genius back there.”

He chuckled, “I take it you still haven’t told him you threatened a serial killer because he happened to threaten him?”

“I would’ve done the same for anyone.”

“Bullshit.”

Your jaw dropped, “I let you drive my car and this is the thanks I get, Alvez?”

“Okay trust fund baby, I’m driving you home, you’re not doing me a favor.”

You let out a small laugh, “Eh, I’m not that bad.”

“Your sister threatened a whole police department using lawyers.”

“They had it coming,” you said and he cleared his throat.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was an actual fiasco.”

Your head shot up and you turned to him, “Hm?”

“That whole thing with Reid. He’s not over you.”

“He will be,” you murmured, “Eventually.”

“Do you want to hear why it was a fiasco?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s an exaggeration-“

“He spent the whole night talking about you,” he cut you off and your jaw dropped, “Yeah. More like, she asked him about his job and he mentioned the case, then talked about you and how you couldn’t be the killer for hours. For a second, I thought he’d go up to the DJ booth and start broadcasting from there.”

You could feel the warmth spreading through you, but you nibbled on your lip, trying to ignore it.

“I really hurt him Luke.”

He stole a look at you from the corner of his eye.

“I know,” he said, “That’s pretty clear. I don’t know which one is worse, that you hurt him or that it doesn’t seem to change anything on his part.”

You could feel the burning in your eyes but you slipped a little in your seat and kept your eyes on the road.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I don’t know which one is worse either.”

                                                   ***

The worst thing about nightmares?

There was no escape from them, and no amount of booze could make them go away.

You woke up to your own scream and leaped out of the bed so fast that you got caught in your sheets and fell on your face, your ears ringing. You could feel the bile burning your throat, so you covered your mouth and rushed to the bathroom to throw up into the toilet, barely aware of the sobs rocking your body. You wiped at your mouth and stood up on shaky legs, then brushed your teeth, still breathing hard.

You were there again, in that graveyard with your father, but this time you couldn’t brush it off as just a nightmare.

It was way too detailed, way too familiar to be a nightmare.

You wiped at your forehead and washed your face with ice cold water, desperate for some sort of a relief and leaned over the sink, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Fuck this shit,” you rasped out to yourself before turning the tap off and raised your glances to look in the mirror.

Well.

You looked exactly like how you felt.

You still didn’t trust your legs but still managed to leave the bathroom, Making your way to your bedroom was more than enough to give you goosebumps, but you snatched your phone off the bedside table. You almost dropped it because of how badly you were trembling with fear, but managed to hold it tighter, found his name in the contacts and took the phone to your ear.

He answered immediately.

“Hello?”

“Spencer, hi,” you said, still taking deep breaths, “I um… I had this- this nightmare and I- I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?”

He hesitated for a moment, “Are you okay? Why are you breathing so fast?”

“Not a panic attack,” you wiped at your nose, “Not yet anyway.”

“Okay, I’m still coming over-“

“No!” you cut him off, then licked your lips, “No I can’t…. I can’t stay here right now, I need to get out of here. Can we please meet somewhere or-or-“

“How about my place?” he asked and you heard the unmistakable clinking of keys, “You can’t drive like that, I’ll come and pick you up, wait there-“

“No I’ll just take a taxi.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll take a taxi, just send me the location,” you told him and hung up, quickly got dressed, got into your coat, then went downstairs when your taxi arrived. You still felt like you could throw up again, but the cool air coming from the open car window helped as the driver started the car after you gave him the location.

There was a beauty in the city at night, especially in chilly nights like these. The small raindrops falling down your face offered some kind of a small comfort while you tried your hardest to ignore the images flashing through your mind, taking a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs. You leaned your head to the open window, closing your eyes and letting the noise of the city drag you out of your own mind.

By the time the taxi pulled over, you were almost lost in your thoughts and only when the driver let you know that you were there you opened your eyes. You paid him, and looked up at the building before making your way inside.

It was almost strange how you hadn’t seen his apartment when you two were dating, but now here you were.

After the break up. At three in the morning.

You wiped at your nose and fixed your hair before you knocked on the door and tried to control your breathing, but that felt way too difficult. As soon as he opened the door, everything you had planned to tell him in your head disappeared and you looked up at him in complete silence for a couple of seconds, you had almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t in his work clothes. A warmth filled you, the urge to rush into his arms taking over you but you managed to fight the urge and stepped into the apartment, desperately searching for the right words.

“I had that nightmare, again.” You turned to him as soon as you entered the living room, stumbling over your words, “That graveyard nightmare, but Spencer I think it wasn’t just a dream, I think you were right and it was a memory and there was someone else but I can’t see a face and—“

“Y/N.”

“And I think we were there because of me because it all just connected, we were at that graveyard and he was actually digging a grave and I can remember the face of the victim but not—“

“Sweetheart, breathe.” he approached you in three long steps and his warm hands cupped your cheek so that he could look at you better, “I’m here, I’m listening, okay? Just breathe and tell me. Slowly.”

You swallowed thickly, looking up at him.

“I had that nightmare again,” you managed to say, “But I think that’s a memory.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “How?”

“Because at the graveyard, dad told me something,” you said, “He was- he was digging a grave, and he said, Remember, you’re not supposed to make them bleed if you can’t kill them. And I remembered when that happened, back at the cabin, during the training, I… I untied one of the victims and pretended like he got out of them somehow.”

His hand slipped a little so that he could brush his fingers over your neck, almost soothing you.

“It didn’t work,” you shook your head, “As soon as he got out of the cabin, dad hunted him down and dragged him back into the cabin, he had lost way too much blood to make a run for it. Spencer, that’s a memory, not just a nightmare.”

“There was another person with you? At the graveyard?”

“He took the victim to the graveyard later on, but yes. There was someone, I just…I can’t remember who,” you heaved a shaky breath, “You need to tell the team-“

“We’re already checking the graveyards within the driving distance to the cabin, I told them today.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Did you?”

“Yeah,” he said and his eyes searched your face, “You’re shaking.”

You tried to smile and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, running your thumb over his warm skin, “It’s cold out there.”

You were lying, he knew you were lying and you knew that he knew, but neither of you commented on that. He hesitated for a moment before he pulled you closer to him, letting you bury your face into his chest as he held you tight and you inhaled his scent, closing your eyes.

He was right earlier. This was an addiction.

“Were you sleeping?” you muttered into his chest before you pulled back to look up at him. He scoffed and shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I was working on the case.”

“You really need to sleep.”

“It’s ironic to hear that from you,” he pointed out and that made a smile warm your face.

“Ah but I did sleep,” you said, “I just woke up because of the nightmares. It still counts as sleep.”

“I doubt that,” he said and you turned your head before you started walking around the room.

Spencer’s apartment was more or less what you imagined, to be honest. Contrary to yours, it was darker and obviously older. The wooden desk was covered in papers and books, there was a library by the corner of the room almost stacked to the brim, and overall it reminded you so much of him that just being in his apartment made you feel-

Safer. Better. Calmer.

“Lovely place,” you commented as you approached the library to drag your fingertips over the cracked and old spines of the books and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shift his weight.

“Yeah it’s not- it’s not like yours but I like it.”

“Not like mine?” you looked over your shoulder and he cleared his throat.

“Mm hm.”

“I like it better than mine,” you said and he frowned,

“Why?”

“It looks like someone is actually living here,” you motioned around and he tilted his head.

“Is that a good thing?”

“It is,” you said, “I mean I can see….you in here. I can’t see any part of me in my apartment.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “My mom has this person who designs her houses, she designed my apartment too. It’s pretty but it’s just not me I guess. It’s kind of sad when you think about it.”

He hummed, his eyes watching your every move and you pulled a book from the shelf, holding it up so that he could see the title.

“You don’t strike me as a Petrarch guy,” you tilted your head, “Are you?”

He raised his brows and stole a look at the book in your hand.

“I do not pray, since there is no purpose, that my heart should ever burn less fiercely, but only that she might share part of the fire.” he recited and your jaw dropped before you pouted.

“I hate bluffing with you,” you commented, making him chuckle and you stifled a yawn while turning the book in your hands.

“You can’t work for the whole night if you have a guest.” you gestured at the wooden table and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I won’t if my guest promises she’ll try to sleep.”

“I don’t like this deal.”

“That’s the deal you’re getting,” he said and you clicked your tongue, then walked to the center of the room and sat down on the floor before you lied down.

“I have a bed, you know.”

“I don’t want to get comfortable and fall asleep yet. I want to enjoy this more.”

“Enjoy what? Lying on the floor?”

You shook your head and kept your gaze on the ceiling, the dim light of the apartment and lights from the outside creating shadows there.

“I don’t have that…mind numbing fear right now,” you managed to say “I want to make it last. It’ll come back when I wake up tomorrow, trust me.”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, then heaved a sigh and sat down on the floor as well, leaning his back to the leather armchair. You tossed him the book and he caught it mid-air, shooting you a quizzical look.

“Read me your favorite,” you said and he smiled slightly.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’ll help me get out of my head, and it might help you….ignore the fact that your night club date was terrible, apparently.”

He raised his brows, “Luke told you?”

You tried to stop your smirk, but it was impossible,

“Yeah he did,” you said and bit inside your cheek for a moment, “Thank you though.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me.”

His gaze on you was gentle, “I wish you would believe in yourself too,” he told you, “You’re not what he tried to turn you into.”

You dragged the tip of your tongue over your lip.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we should move on?”

He took a deep breath, his brows furrowed in thought.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “We probably should. But do I think we can move on? I don’t think so.”

You nodded slowly, that burning in your eyes getting even worse as he turned the pages until he found what he was looking for, then cleared his throat and started reading.

“I have offered you my heart a thousand times

O my sweet warrior, only to make peace

with your lovely eyes: but it does not please you

with your noble mind, to stoop so low.”

You smiled to yourself, painfully aware of why he picked that one, then closed your eyes, his voice washing over you.

“And if some other lady has hope of it,

she lives in powerless, deceiving hope:

and it can never be what it was to me,

since I too disdain what does not please you.”

Chapter 22