#and she had to recover and heal and eventually the memories came back

[poisonousquinzel]

Thinking about how likely it is that BTAS Ivy grew old n spent all of that time fully believing that Harley died. That despite all her efforts and desperation to save her and get her away from Joker she didn't, she couldn't, and she lost her. That Harley died the same day that wretched man did and it became just yet another thing linking her to him for eternity.

thinking about how BTAS Ivy loved her So much and never got the chance to grow old with her, to see her heal and recover, to heal and recover with her

thinking about how much they deserved their happy ending but never got one. how we're seeing & getting their Less Platonic moments in the newer BTAS comics with the impending knowledge that the narrative has already decided it's a fate they'll never truly get to indulge in and savor, that it will always be destined to end in tragedy.

how for some universes a happy ending is given, growing old together is just the future we know is already there awaiting them... but not for them, not for btas harlivy... not the originals, for their story will always be a tragedy.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Turning Tables

Summary: The team finds you and Spencer, you come back to work after recovering, things are tense. Spencer realizes he messed up, but you're not so quick to forgive.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: suggestive content (16+), mentions of hookup culture, talks of cases, reader is heavily assaulted by unsub, broken bones, dumb man Spencer, missed signals, bad communication

Word count: 6.9k

a/n: hiii there will be a part three!!

main masterlist part one part three

The team finally found the two of you in the abandoned warehouse, but the sight they came upon was brutal. Spencer had a black eye and a split lip from being hit, his face bruised and bloodied, but you— you had taken the worst of it. The unsub had unleashed relentless violence on you. You’d been slapped, punched, kicked, spit on, cut, and thrown around like a ragdoll. The unsub’s twisted plan was clear: break Spencer by hurting you, the "weaker" hostage, using your suffering to force him into talking. But you both knew that wasn’t an option. Spencer couldn’t give the unsub what he wanted, no matter how much it tore him apart to watch you take those blows.

Every hit that landed on you felt like it was striking Spencer himself. He watched, helpless, feeling the pain of every blow as though it was his own flesh being torn and bruised. Yet he remained silent, knowing that any begging or pleading from him would only make the unsub escalate. He couldn’t give them that. He couldn’t put you through more than what you were already enduring, though it felt like it was killing him inside to watch.

When the team finally stormed in, you were unconscious, your body battered and limp as they carted you away on a stretcher to the waiting ambulance. Hotch approached Spencer, his voice calm but filled with concern as he asked, "What happened to Y/N?"

Spencer, sitting in the back of another ambulance, stared blankly ahead. His shoulders were slumped, weighed down by the guilt and horror of what had transpired. His voice was quiet, flat. “She was the target.”

Hotch took in Spencer's empty gaze, the exhaustion and anguish etched into every line of his face, and knew better than to press for more. They’d have to wait until you woke up to understand the full scope of what happened in that warehouse. But even then, Hotch feared that some wounds might never truly heal.

—

You eventually did wake up, groggy but relieved to find that, despite the brutality you endured, you had very little internal damage. The doctors assured you that your body just needed time to heal. Two weeks of paid leave were granted as you recovered, a rare gesture of empathy from Chief Strauss, who seemed to have a soft spot for you.

As the painkillers faded and your mind cleared, the questions from your team began. You sat with them, still feeling tender but able to think straight, recounting everything you remembered from that night. You and Spencer had been investigating a house, following up on an anonymous tip. It seemed routine until the moment you two split up to check different rooms. That’s when it happened—ambushed from behind, a cloth drenched in chloroform shoved over your mouth. After that, everything went black.

"I only remember waking up inside the warehouse with Spencer," you explained, your voice steady but laced with tension. The memories still fresh, the pain still vivid. "The unsub wanted me. I was the real target. They said I was more of a challenge than any of their other victims."

JJ, sitting beside you, asked softly, her voice gentle and careful. “Why did they take Spencer?”

You heaved a breath, feeling the weight of the answer on your chest. “They thought if they took him too, they could find out where the rest of the team was. They wanted Spencer to tell you all it was a dead end, to send you off on a different trail.” You paused, your breath shaking as you continued. “They said if Spencer did that, they’d release him. But they made it clear… they just wanted me.”

The room was silent for a moment, the gravity of your words hanging in the air. Your team exchanged glances, but no one said anything. They didn’t need to. You all understood what it meant—that the unsub was willing to let Spencer go, but you were never supposed to walk out of that warehouse alive.

—

When you returned to work after your leave, the atmosphere shifted. The entire team was happy to have you back, and there were warm smiles all around. Spencer, however, seemed unsure how to approach you now. Still, he smiled as you passed by, his voice tentative yet sincere as he said, “I’m really glad you’re back and feeling better.”

You returned the smile, a brief and polite response escaping your lips. “Thanks, Spencer. I appreciate it.” The exchange was short, almost too brief, and you both seemed to sense the unspoken tension lingering between you. It didn’t go unnoticed, especially not by JJ, who had grown close to you since the incident. She had been your rock, someone you confided in more and more. 

When she found a quiet moment alone with you, JJ slipped into the conversation with ease. “Hey, how’s your first day back?” she asked with her trademark smile, though there was a hint of something deeper in her tone.

You shrugged lightly, trying to mask any unease. “Same as usual, I guess. It feels good to be working again, though. I was getting restless at home.”

JJ laughed knowingly, nodding. “I know exactly what you mean.” Then, her voice dropped, softer now, as she leaned in slightly. “Did something happen between you and Spence?”

The question caught you off guard, your brows knitting in surprise. Did Spencer say something to her? You quickly tried to brush it off with a joke. “Other than, you know, getting kidnapped together? Not that I know of.”

But JJ wasn’t convinced. She made a face like she wasn’t buying your casual response. “Are you sure? You two haven’t really been talking much. I guess I just assumed something like that would have brought you closer… in a weird, awful sort of way.”

You let out a short laugh, trying to deflect again. “Yeah… we didn’t get the trauma bonding memo, I guess.”

JJ still looked skeptical, her eyes scanning your face for cracks in your armor. “Okay, well… just, if you need to talk, I’m here. You don’t have to go through anything alone.”

Her offer was genuine, and the sincerity in her voice made you pause. You smiled back at her, feeling a small but comforting warmth settle in. “Thanks, JJ. I really appreciate that.”

Across the bullpen, Spencer had been listening to the conversation from his desk, his heart aching at what JJ was implying. He’d been mulling over the same thought—that the trauma you both went through should have drawn you closer. Shared experiences like that often created a bond, an unspoken connection forged in survival. But instead, he could feel the distance between you growing wider, and it tore him up inside.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how hard this must be for you, how you were facing it all alone. You were still relatively new to the team, and as far as Spencer knew, this was your first time being kidnapped. After his first time, he had shut everyone out. Granted, he’d been addicted to drugs back then, but that isolation still hadn’t been the right path. It had only deepened the pain, and he feared you might be doing the same thing.

He could only hope you were receiving the support you needed—support he wasn’t sure he could give you anymore.

—

Later that week, you found yourself in the kitchen, trying to ignore the sharp ache in your side as you reached for a mug to make tea. The pain in your ribs flared up with every stretch, the broken bones protesting loudly. As your arm extended toward the cupboard, the burning sensation became unbearable, and you yelped, clutching your side in an attempt to steady yourself.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was filled with concern as he walked into the room just in time to see you wince in pain. He was by your side in an instant, his hands hovering uncertainly, as if he wanted to help but wasn’t sure how far he could go. “Are you okay?”

You grunted, trying to downplay the pain. “I’m fine, just... need a mug.”

Spencer gave a small, understanding nod before stepping in to help. He reached up with ease, grabbing the mug he knew was your favorite—the one you always used for your tea. “Here,” he said softly, placing it on the counter in front of you. “Making tea?”

A small flutter stirred in your chest at the realization that he remembered both your favorite mug and your preference for tea. It was such a small detail, but it felt significant in that moment, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond that still lingered between you despite everything.

—

You laughed as you watched Spencer pour himself yet another cup of coffee. “It’s three in the afternoon, Spencer! Who drinks coffee this late?”

Spencer chuckled along with you, lifting his cup with a playful grin. “Me! Obviously!” he said, gesturing toward the steaming mug with a mock sense of pride.

You bumped his hip with yours, gently nudging him out of the way as you reached for the kettle. “Well, some of us actually like to sleep,” you teased, your tone light and playful.

What you didn’t notice was the way Spencer had stared at you after that, a soft, affectionate gaze lingering on your face, the kind of look that held more meaning than words could express.

—

“Yeah, thanks,” you sighed, knowing you needed the help but still feeling a little self-conscious about it.

Without missing a beat, Spencer grabbed your favorite tea from the cupboard and began steeping it for you, his movements calm and precise. He didn’t ask if you needed more assistance—he just did it, like he knew exactly what you needed in that moment. It was a silent kindness, one that reminded you of the Spencer you knew before everything had gotten so complicated.

As the tea steeped, you leaned back slightly, watching him with gratitude and lingering uncertainty. The simplicity of the moment, of him helping you with something as mundane as making tea, felt like a brief return to the way things used to be between you.

“Do you need help with anything else?” Spencer asked, his gaze fixed on the steaming mug in front of him rather than meeting your eyes. His tone was casual, but there was something tense beneath it, something unspoken that lingered between the two of you.

You frowned, feeling a bit of confusion and then a flicker of annoyance rising up. Was he only doing this out of guilt? You straightened up slightly, crossing your arms over your chest despite the ache in your ribs.

“Look, I appreciate your help, but you don’t have to suck up to me because of what happened,” you said, your words sharper than you intended. You regretted it immediately, but the frustration had been bubbling beneath the surface for a while now—how careful everyone was being around you, how things with Spencer had grown so strange and distant since the kidnapping.

Spencer froze for a moment, his hand still resting on the counter as he absorbed your words. His jaw tightened, and for a second, he didn’t move or say anything. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but steady. “I’m not… sucking up to you.”

You huffed, unsure where this conversation was heading but feeling the tension building between you. “Then what is this? You’ve barely said two words to me since I came back, and now suddenly you’re… what? Trying to make up for it by being overly nice?”

Spencer’s shoulders stiffened, and he finally turned to face you, his expression guarded. “I’m just trying to help,” he said, his voice measured, like he was trying not to let his own emotions show. “I know things are… different now. But I didn’t want to push you into talking or pretending everything’s okay if it’s not. That’s all.”

The frustration in you wavered, your annoyance softening as you realized he wasn’t trying to guilt-trip or coddle you. He was as lost in this new dynamic as you were, both of you navigating the aftermath of something you hadn’t fully processed. His hesitation wasn’t about sucking up—it was about not knowing how to be around you anymore.

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You don’t have to fix this, or me.”

Spencer's eyes softened slightly as he watched you, his own uncertainty flickering across his face. “I’m not trying to fix anything,” he said, almost a whisper now. “I just… don’t want to make things worse.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and suddenly the air felt heavy, filled with everything you both hadn’t said since the warehouse.

“Worse, right,” you scoffed, the bitterness lacing your voice before you could stop it. “Sorry I started an awful chain of events.” You could feel the hurt bubbling up again, the weight of rejection you’d been carrying ever since that day in the warehouse. It wasn’t just the physical pain—it was the emotional bruise left behind, the wound that hadn’t healed.

Spencer looked at you, his expression faltering. He opened his mouth as if to respond but then hesitated, unsure of how to mend what had already spiraled so far out of control. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said softly, his words stumbling out in a rush. “We were under a lot of stress… sometimes people say things they don’t mean, searching for comfort.”

You felt your heart drop at his words. He thought it was just a fleeting moment, something you’d said out of desperation. That stung worse than anything. You blinked back the frustration and the tears that were threatening to spill over, the pain in your side flaring as you tried to catch your breath.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed out, the door to the break room slamming behind you with a sharp, echoing crack.

Spencer stood there, stunned, the sound of the door slamming reverberating in the silence. He hadn’t meant to make things worse. He didn’t realize until it was too late that you hadn’t just left the conversation—you had left the room entirely, and maybe… left something between you both behind.

He clenched his hands into fists, a knot tightening in his stomach. He didn’t know how to make this right, how to undo the damage that had already been done. All he knew was that you had walked away and it felt as if he was losing you for good.

—

Things on the team settled into a new rhythm, even if it wasn’t quite the same. Everyone seemed to accept that you and Spencer were no longer as close as you had once been, though there was an undercurrent of tension. The two of you weren’t assigned together anymore, and that seemed to smooth things out for the most part. But it didn’t go unnoticed that Spencer kept a quiet distance, while you partnered up with Derek in the field.

Spencer couldn’t shake the bitterness that crept in when he saw you with Derek. He couldn’t help but wonder if Hotch had reassigned you because he thought Spencer couldn’t protect you, that you needed someone strong like Derek to keep you safe. The thought left him feeling sour, inadequate, like he’d somehow failed. But then, just as quickly, he’d get mad at himself for even thinking that way. You didn’t need protecting. You were more than capable of handling yourself in the field. You had survived worse than most, even if he couldn’t bear to watch it happen.

What gnawed at him most, though, was how happy you seemed with Derek. The way you laughed and joked with him, talking easily like you once did with Spencer. It stirred something ugly inside him, something he didn’t want to admit. He couldn’t deny that Derek was the kind of man who seemed perfect—strong, confident, and charming. A man who could sweep anyone off their feet. He hated that it bothered him, but he’d never allow himself to admit that he was afraid you’d fall for Derek. That kind of jealousy was too much to confront.

You, on the other hand, were content with your new partnership. Derek was easygoing and didn’t pry into your personal life. He let you manage things on your own terms, only asking questions when you willingly brought something up. It was a refreshing change, especially after everything that had happened with Spencer. You didn’t want to talk about what had gone wrong. You were too embarrassed, too ashamed of how vulnerable you had felt. It was easier to leave it behind, buried where no one could see the cracks.

But despite the professional ease, there was still a part of you that missed what you and Spencer once had, even if you’d never admit that either.

—

On one particular case, you and Derek celebrated the capture of an unsub with a big, triumphant hug. In the heat of the moment, you jumped into his arms, and he caught you effortlessly, spinning you around as the rest of the team cheered. It had been the two of you who made the breakthrough that led to the unsub’s hideout, and everyone was thrilled. You were beaming, caught up in the excitement of the team.

But Spencer, standing on the sidelines, was stewing. His mind kept replaying the mistake he had made, the detail he had missed that Derek had caught. And now, it was Derek who had caught you, too. Watching the two of you laughing, hugging, and celebrating felt like a punch to his gut. His insecurities gnawed at him, building into a quiet anger that simmered beneath the surface.

The rest of the team, however, smiled at the sight of you, happy to see you so joyful and healed enough to engage in lighthearted horseplay with Derek. The dark cloud that had followed you since the kidnapping seemed to have lifted, and it was a relief to everyone.

When the team returned to Quantico, Penelope was quick to corral everyone for celebratory drinks at the local bar. You stuck close to JJ and Penelope, grateful for their company as the night went on. After a few drinks, they pulled you out onto the dance floor, laughter bubbling up between the three of you as the music played. You let yourself go, dancing with JJ and Penelope, the worries of the past few months fading in the glow of the evening.

But it wasn’t until Derek joined you girls on the dance floor that something shifted. Spencer, sitting at the bar, felt a surge of jealousy flood through him. Derek was there again, touching your arm, laughing with you, spinning you around as the girls cheered. Spencer’s vision blurred with red-hot anger, the insecurities and feelings he had been burying for weeks now boiling over.

Before he could think twice, Spencer stormed over, grabbing Derek by the arm and pulling him outside the bar. The sudden outburst left Derek confused, glancing at Spencer with genuine concern. “What the hell, Reid?” Derek asked, his voice sharp with confusion but tinged with worry. “Are you okay?”

Spencer was breathing heavily, steam practically pouring out of his ears as he glared at Derek. “Do you like her?” he snapped, his voice cracking with frustration.

Derek blinked, taken aback. “Who? Like who, Reid?”

“Y/N!” Spencer shouted, his voice louder than he intended. “You keep touching her, and dancing with her, and laughing like—like you’re trying to be with her!”

Derek’s face softened in realization, and he held up his hands defensively, trying to calm Spencer down. “Whoa, whoa, kid,” Derek said slowly, his tone measured. “You think something’s going on with me and Y/N?”

Spencer’s chest heaved as he struggled to control the emotions that had been brewing for so long. “I… I don’t know. I just—every time I see you with her, I can’t help but think you’re—”

Derek cut him off gently, shaking his head. “Spencer, man, it’s not like that. We’re friends. That’s it.”

But Spencer wasn’t ready to accept it. “Then why do you keep acting like that with her? I see it, Derek! You’re always laughing with her, touching her, like you’re… like you’re taking my place.”

Derek sighed, finally starting to understand what was bubbling beneath the surface. “Alright, Reid. What’s going on? ‘Taking your place’? You know Hotch was the one who reassigned us all. It’s just work, man.”

Spencer huffed in frustration, his foot kicking at the loose gravel beneath him. His mind raced, emotions swirling, but he couldn’t seem to piece together a coherent response. He felt like a rubber band stretched too far, about to snap, and it wasn’t just about work. He knew that much.

Derek watched him closely, reading the tension in Spencer’s body, the unease in his eyes. “That’s not what you meant, though, is it?” Derek questioned carefully, his tone soft but pressing for the truth.

Spencer’s shoulders tensed even further, his head dipping slightly as he tried to find the right words. “I… I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice shaky with frustration. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to confront what was really bothering him. But he also couldn’t stand feeling like this—watching from the sidelines, seeing you with Derek, seeing you laugh and smile like he wasn’t even part of your life anymore.

Derek took a step closer, lowering his voice so only Spencer could hear. “There’s more, isn’t there?” he asked, but he wasn’t accusing. He was just trying to get Spencer to open up, to confront whatever it was that had him spiraling.

Spencer clenched his fists at his sides, staring at the ground as his heart pounded. “I… I didn’t mean for there to be,” he admitted quietly, his voice strained. “It’s just… I don’t know how to be around her anymore. Everything’s different, and I—I don’t know how to fix it.”

Derek nodded slowly, understanding dawning. “You care about her. More than you’re letting on.”

Spencer’s silence was answer enough. He cared about you deeply—more than he had ever allowed himself to admit, even to himself. And now, watching you get closer to Derek while he kept his distance, it felt like he was losing you, piece by piece.

“I don’t know what happened in that warehouse," Derek began, his voice steady and understanding. "I read the report, but I’m sure there were some forgotten details… stuff that can’t be put into words.” He paused for a moment, giving Spencer a chance to process what he was saying. “If there’s something you need to tell her, just do it, Reid. Y/N isn’t the type to laugh at you or shut you out.”

Spencer sniffled, the tears coming against his will, his emotions too raw to hold back any longer. “I... I know that,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the strain. He wiped at his eyes, feeling small and overwhelmed. “I just want to go back to how things were,” he complained softly, his words sounding almost petulant, like a child wanting to undo what couldn’t be undone.

Derek’s heart softened at Spencer’s admission. He had seen this kind of pain before, knew how trauma could twist things, how it could fracture even the strongest of bonds. “That’s not gonna happen, kid,” Derek said with sympathy, shaking his head gently. “What happened to the two of you… that changes people. It changes the way you see the world, and it changes how you see each other.”

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the weight of those words sink in. He knew Derek was right. He knew things had changed, that he had changed, and so had you. But hearing it made the ache in his chest sharper, more real.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t rebuild together,” Derek added, his voice hopeful. “It’s not about going back to how things were, Spencer. It’s about moving forward—together. You’ve both been through hell, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. You still have a chance.”

Spencer looked up at Derek, his eyes filled with uncertainty and vulnerability. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

Derek shook his head, giving Spencer’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s only too late if you give up on her. Don’t wait until you lose her for good before you try to fix things. You care about her, Reid. She needs to hear that from you.”

Spencer took a deep breath, nodding slightly, though the fear still gnawed at him. He didn’t know if he was ready, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. He had to find the courage to face you, to face what had changed, and to see if there was still a chance to rebuild the connection he had feared was lost forever.

After their tense conversation outside the bar, Spencer headed home, deciding it was best not to linger. He didn’t want to ruin your night by bringing up anything uncomfortable, and the idea of watching you dance with Derek—or worse, with other men—was too much for him. The weight of jealousy and regret was already suffocating, and he needed space to figure out what he was really feeling.

It turned out to be a good thing he left when he did. After Spencer and Derek stepped outside, you were approached by a very handsome, very suave man. He had an easy charm about him, the kind that made conversation flow effortlessly. His flirtatious smile and smooth lines quickly caught your attention, and for the first time in a while, you felt yourself relax, enjoying the moment without overthinking it.

One drink turned into two, and before you knew it, the night had slipped away. The man offered to take you home, and in the haze of alcohol and the desire to forget the complicated feelings with Spencer, you agreed. You didn’t want to think about what had been left unsaid, about the tension between you and Spencer, or how much everything had changed.

That night, you went home with the charming stranger, eager to escape the weight of the unresolved emotions that had been building for weeks. But in the back of your mind, even as you tried to lose yourself in someone new, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just another way of avoiding what you were really feeling.

—

That one night started a fire inside you, one that you hadn’t realized had been smoldering beneath the surface for so long. The realization that—even if it was just for a fleeting moment—you were wanted, desired, was intoxicating. After everything that had happened with Spencer, after feeling rejected and unsure of yourself, it was refreshing to be wanted without complications or emotional baggage.

The feeling of being desired, even if only for one night at a time, ignited something within you. It gave you a sense of control, of freedom, and it felt good—so good—to be seen as someone worth chasing. So you leaned into it. You found your place in the hookup culture, where the rules were simple and the emotional weight was nonexistent. One night, one person, no strings attached.

And it was fun. The thrill of meeting someone new, the brief connection that didn’t require anything more than mutual attraction, gave you a rush. Sure, the expense of condoms and the constant reminder to stay on top of frequent STD testing was a minor annoyance, but it was worth it for the feeling of power and liberation that came with it.

You felt like you were finally getting your fix, like the hole that had been left after your complicated feelings with Spencer was being filled—albeit temporarily. It wasn’t about love or deep connection anymore. It was about reclaiming something for yourself, something you hadn’t realized you were missing. You had found an escape, and for now, that was enough.

But then, one day, you made a mistake—a slip of the tongue in the office. You weren’t necessarily trying to keep your new lifestyle a secret, but you hadn’t planned on making it common knowledge either. Your friends and coworkers didn’t need to know every detail of how you were trying to get over Spencer, how you had buried your hurt in casual flings to escape the complicated feelings lingering from the rejection.

It happened when Penelope asked about your weekend plans in the bullpen. You casually mentioned that you were busy, but the response sparked curiosity.

"Busy? With what?" JJ asked, her eyes narrowing playfully. As your close friend, she felt like she would have known if you had something going on. She sensed something was off.

You laughed awkwardly, realizing you had stepped into dangerous territory. "Uh, just... seeing a man."

Penelope's face lit up with excitement. "You have a date?" she asked, her glee impossible to hide.

"Not exactly..." you trailed off, hoping the conversation would end there, but you should’ve known better.

Derek, never one to miss an opportunity to tease, raised an eyebrow with a sly grin. "Little miss thing, do you have a scheduled booty call?" he asked, his tone filled with mischief.

Your face flushed fiercely, the blush creeping up your neck. The small, involuntary smile on your lips gave you away instantly, and before you could protest, Penelope squealed with delight, while JJ chuckled in surprise.

"Oh my god!" Penelope exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. "You minx! Why didn’t you tell us?"

You tried to play it cool, shrugging lightly. "I mean, it’s nothing serious. Just… you know… having some fun."

But what you didn’t notice was Spencer, who had overheard the entire conversation from across the bullpen. His face paled, and his heart sank as the reality of your words hit him like a freight train. You were seeing other people. You were sleeping with other men, and it was painfully clear—you were trying to get over him.

The girl he had always wanted—you—had wanted him back. That truth crashed into him with an intensity he wasn’t prepared for, and the weight of it left him standing frozen, unable to process how much he had lost. Spencer felt the deep ache of regret, gnawing at him with every word you spoke to your friends. You had moved on—or at least, you were trying to. And it was all because of him, because he had pushed you away when you had been vulnerable, honest, and open with him.

At that moment, Spencer couldn’t deny it any longer. He finally admitted it to himself—he wants you. He likes you. Maybe he even loves you. He always has. 

The realization of what he had been running from all this time hit him harder than any unsub ever could. He had been too scared to face it, too afraid of messing things up between you, too unsure of how to handle his own feelings. But now, watching you laugh awkwardly with your coworkers about casual hookups and hearing how you were slipping further and further away from him, it became painfully clear—he had already messed things up. 

Spencer clenched his fists at his sides, his mind racing with the weight of what he'd been denying for so long. He wanted to be the one you turned to, the one you laughed with, the one you came home to after a long day. He wanted to be more than your friend, more than someone you used to be close to. He wanted you in his life, in every possible way.

—

Spencer had always been on your speed dial—back when things were simpler, back when you called him almost every day, your friendship close and easy. So when his phone buzzed after 11 p.m. on a Saturday, his first instinct wasn’t concern. But after everything that had happened between the two of you lately, the timing made him uneasy. This wasn’t normal anymore. He hadn’t heard from you in weeks, not like this, and certainly not at this hour.

His heart pounded as he grappled for the phone, his mind racing. If you were calling him this late, something had to be wrong. He didn’t hesitate for a second, fumbling to answer as quickly as possible, already imagining the worst. “Y/N?” he called out into the phone, his voice tense with worry. “Y/N, are you okay?”

But instead of your voice answering, what he heard stopped him cold.

It was faint at first, a muffled noise, but as he strained to listen, the unmistakable sounds of… pain? groaning? It left him on edge, his panic rising. His mind raced, thinking the worst—had you been hurt? Were you in danger? He called your name again, louder, more frantic this time. “*Y/N!*”

But still, no response from you. Just the sounds, growing clearer, louder.

And then, it hit him like a punch to the gut. Through the haze of sounds on the other end, he heard a man’s voice, moaning your name.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat as realization dawned painfully, his stomach twisting. You hadn’t called him on purpose. You had buttdialled him during a hookup. The groans, the noises that he had thought were of pain—they weren’t what he had feared. They were… something entirely different.

His hands shook as he stared at the phone, the pit in his stomach growing. He could hear everything, the intimacy, the passion—things that weren’t meant for him, things he should never have been privy to. The knowledge of what was happening, of who was with you right now, left him reeling.

He hung up, the phone slipping from his grasp onto the bed. Spencer sat there, stunned, trying to process what had just happened. It was the harshest reminder of what he had lost, of what he had pushed away. You were moving on. You were finding comfort in someone else. And here he was, on the other end of a phone call that was never meant to be made.

For the first time, Spencer felt the full weight of what he had done. He had pushed you away, too scared to face his own feelings, and now he was watching—no, hearing—you slip further away from him. The girl he had always wanted, the one who had wanted him, was now with someone else. And all he could do was sit there, helpless, with the sharp, bitter taste of regret heavy on his tongue.

—

You were blissfully unaware that you had called Spencer the night before. After a fun, carefree night with a man whose name you couldn’t even remember, you woke up feeling satisfied and content. It wasn’t until the next day, when you went to call Penelope, that your heart stopped. Staring at your call log, your eyes widened in horror as you saw the call to Spencer. A call that had lasted for several minutes. 

You quickly checked the time. It had definitely been when you and what’s his name were together. Oh god. A pit formed in your stomach as the realization hit you—did Spencer hear anything? Your mind raced, mortified by the idea. You hadn’t spoken to him much lately, and now, this? It was beyond awkward.

By Monday morning, you were terrified to face Spencer. The embarrassment gnawed at you, and the thought of seeing him after that accidental call made your stomach churn. When you arrived at the office, you tried to keep your head down, praying the situation would somehow blow over. But as soon as you made it to your desk, Spencer stormed over, his face set in a hard, unreadable expression.

“Y/N,” he said lowly, his voice tense, “a word.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You nodded silently, following Spencer into the hall, the weight of what you feared was coming making it hard to breathe.

Before he could speak, you blurted out, “Listen, Spencer, I’m sorry—” You didn’t even know how to finish the sentence, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was grappling with something—whether to be angry, hurt, or simply frustrated. “You called me,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with something else you couldn’t quite place. “I heard... a lot.”

Your heart sank even further. He did hear. “Spencer, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” you said quickly, desperate to explain. “It was an accident. I wasn’t trying to—”

“Just…” Spencer interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away, clearly uncomfortable. His voice was quieter now, but the tension between you was palpable. “Please don’t do that again. It was horribly uncomfortable.”

You winced, guilt washing over you. The last thing you had ever wanted was to make Spencer feel that way. “I’m really sorry, Spencer,” you said, softer this time. “I didn’t realize I had called you. If I had known...”

He nodded, still avoiding your gaze. “I know. It’s just… hearing that, knowing what was happening, it was…” He trailed off, the words hanging unfinished in the air.

"It was what?" you pressed, sensing that Spencer was leaving something unsaid, something important.

Spencer glanced away, his expression tense, and then, as if the weight of his feelings could no longer be held back, he blurted it out. "I was jealous, okay?"

You blinked in disbelief. “Jealous?” The word left your mouth before you could stop it, confusion swirling in your mind. How could he be jealous after everything that had happened between you two?

“Yeah, Y/N,” he sighed, finally meeting your eyes, the vulnerability in his gaze clear now. “I was jealous.”

You shook your head, still baffled by his confession. “Spencer, you rejected me,” you reminded him, your voice sharper than you intended. The hurt from that moment still stung, and hearing him say he was jealous felt like a twisted irony.

“I know,” he said quickly, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I know I did, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle what you said or what I was feeling, and I pushed you away. But hearing you with someone else, knowing you’ve moved on… it hit me harder than I expected.”

You stood there, staring at him, processing his words. Part of you wanted to lash out, to remind him of how much his rejection had hurt you. But another part of you, the part that had always cared for Spencer, softened at the sight of him so open, so raw with his emotions.

“Spencer…” you started, your voice gentler now, “you don’t get to be jealous. Not after everything. You made your choice.”

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes full of regret. “And it was the wrong choice. I didn’t realize how much I wanted you—until it was too late.”

There was a pause as his words hung in the air between you.

“Well, I’m sorry it took you so long to realize it,” you said, the hurt still lingering in your voice despite the calm exterior you tried to maintain.

Spencer nodded slowly, his expression full of regret. “Me too,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you then, his eyes filled with all the things he hadn’t been able to say before, the weight of his hesitation clear now that the truth was out.

The silence between you stretched on for a moment, heavy with everything that had gone unsaid for so long. You could feel the weight of it pressing down on you, the hurt and confusion swirling around inside your chest. This was what you had wanted once—to hear Spencer admit that he had made a mistake. But now that it was happening, it didn’t feel as satisfying as you thought it would.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Spencer continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings. And now I’m scared I’ve lost you for good.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. There was no quick fix for what had happened between you. His apology was genuine, but the damage had already been done.

“I don’t know what to say, Spencer,” you admitted. “I’m not going to pretend like this doesn’t hurt, or that everything can just go back to how it was.”

“I understand,” he said softly, looking down at the floor. “I don’t expect things to go back to the way they were. I just… I wanted you to know how I feel. And that I’m sorry.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I appreciate that. But this doesn’t change everything.”

“I know,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours once more. “But maybe… maybe it’s not too late to figure it out. If you’re willing.”

You hesitated, the rawness of the conversation still fresh. You didn’t know if you could open that door again—not yet. But maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

“We’ll see, Spencer,” you said softly. “We’ll see.”

And with that, the conversation hung in the air, fragile and uncertain, but with the faintest glimmer of hope.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign down on me - Part 4

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt

-🐺-

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, mutt?”

Your breaths were coming in hard pants, your body was worn to shreds. It took everything in you to look up at the angry face above, and when you finally mustered enough strength to tilt your head, you were met with deeply disapproving eyes. For once they didn’t rattle you, you’d already seen something so much worse. 

“She’s dead,” you murmured, looking back down at the empty eyed body across from you. 

“And you’re about to be too if you don’t get yourself together, stupid dog!”

You’d been yanked up and forced to keep running, shoved out in front of corners and into oncoming fire. It was a miracle you hadn’t joined your old teammate on the floor - not that you really saw it that way. You drew the enemy’s fire and allowed your current handler to get to exfil unharmed, you in your sorry hollow state had been shot in the chest, or the vest rather. Either way you were terribly struggling to breathe when you were eventually lugged along into the helicopter. 

It was difficult to remember much in the days after that. Your memory was a blurry haze, tugged along and shoved into transport and various different rooms until you were abandoned in an infirmary to heal. 

The main thing you remember is how the tiger girl you’d been fighting alongside had fallen, and no one else had batted an eye. She had been one of the best hybrids you’d worked with, someone the soldiers had clamoured to get onto your team, and none of them gave a shit when she’d died. The same girl that had so earnestly been teaching you and given you valuable advice for the field was no more than a few hazily remembered lessons and an empty vessel. 

The thought burned in your mind when you’d laid on the hospital bed, keeping your eyes narrowed to tiny slits and your tail twitching as you recovered. You’d been too young to actually be assigned to a combat mission, but you’d been sent along with the unit that day because they thought they were doing a routine water run to a nearby village and they’d wanted you to observe.

Now you were marred with your first battle scar and laden with the knowledge that it didn’t matter how good you did - you’d be nothing more than a pile of bones left behind to rot. 

-

“Move along, mutt!”

Maddox loomed over you and smacked you with his club, sending you sprawling as you refused to run his training drill. You’d since recovered and been cleared for work once more, but that was just what the doctors said. You had a different opinion entirely. 

“I’m not doing this,” you said quietly, hefting yourself back up to a standing position. 

“What?” Maddox’s voice came through in a chilling growl.

The sounds of the rest of the hybrid’s running the training exercise he’d set echoed all around you. You watched them scrambling around, flying through the course like clay pigeons, and blinked slowly. They were all just training to be better canon fodder. What was the point? You were all going to meet the same end, whether you died honourably fighting or were shot down into a pink mist from where you stood, no matter how good any of you were it wouldn’t matter. You’d all just die anyway. 

“You heard me,” you growled, puppy voice still too young to actually have much of an impact. 

Maddox wasn’t used to being defied. From day one you’d all tried to do what you could to appease him, had run around trying to make sure you weren’t drawing his ire. None of you liked his horrible booming voice when he scrambled at you, you were all afraid of his club and being at the receiving end of one of his thrashings. What was the point? 

He looked incensed, he was the most angry you’d ever seen him. He smacked you a few more times, landing heavy blows onto your back, thighs and butt, but you weren’t anymore motivated to get going. Instead you lay uselessly on the ground and cried out, ears drawing back as you prepared for his worst. 

“Get the fuck up! Do as you’re told, dog, no exceptions. Now move!”

You whined, but stayed where you were. Even while your back was on fire, even while he still beat dents into you, you didn’t feel anymore convinced to go along with any of it anymore. You just wanted to give up. To stop having to live through the pain, and just accept that it would be all there was. 

In the back of your mind you registered that everyone had stopped running, could feel the ground stop rumbling with their desperate footsteps and had all stopped to watch the spectacle. Though you didn’t really think much about it. 

It took a few more blows, but eventually Maddox seemed to recognise that you were quite happy for him to mash you into a fine pulp. His lesson wasn’t having any effect. So he left you on the ground and walked away a few paces, his shadow falling over your face and draping you with the weight of it. 

You choked out a sob and watched as he addressed the room. His words weren’t immediately intelligible to you, you were too lost in your brain fog still. Everything was dull, and noises were like far away recordings playing on scratchy speakers. Your head was a swelling water balloon fit to burst. 

“-see what happens when you decide you’re not going to do what your commanding officer tells you.”

Thwack.

You heard the sound, but you didn’t feel anything. You tilted your head, ears twitching confusedly as you tried to work out why the pain didn’t reach you. The sound of the wailing banshee scream following soon after clued you into why your bones weren’t rattling with anymore pain. 

“Please, sir! Please!”

It was like a plastic sheet had been melted from your eyes. The white hot screech of the voice burned through you and you scrambled up with a shock, watching on with horror as one of your fellow hybrids was getting whacked like nothing else. A wheezing breath gushed in through your lungs and you screamed in unison with the poor boy, begging Maddox to please stop. 

“Oh now you’re willing to plead for forgiveness? Now you’re ready to participate again? Watch and let this be a lesson - You don’t decide when you’re done! You do as you’re fucking told!”

“No! Please, no! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Sir. Please, please ple-”

-🐺-

“Hey, Pup, hey, shhh. Wake up, Pup.”

You felt raw, throat vibrating with the last of your unconscious screams, your mind raced as you struggled to register your surroundings. Soft lamplight bathed the room in a warm, hazy glow, and all around you were rumpled blankets, all thrown around the place in splatters of blue as if a tower of paint cans had exploded. Most startling of all though, was the behemoth of a man right in front of you; sitting on your bed and looking down at you with a worried expression. 

You backed away to the wall when you finally noticed him, panting and growling like hell when you searched through your bleary mind and couldn’t recognise him. His eyes were like molten gems, his long face and pouting lips drawn into a picture of concern. There was something almost familiar about him, if you squinted and ignored the shock of blonde hair that gently curled on top of his head (something told you that you weren’t used to seeing that). The only thing that stopped you from jumping him immediately was the calming scent of citrus peels. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you growled, curling your hands into fists. “What do you want with me?”

The man blinked slowly, his eyebrows raising from the gentle frown he’d been wearing and twitching up into surprise. He smiled uneasily then, the look seeming foreign on that big scarred up face, one of the scars at his lips puckered with the effort it took to move over the muscle. 

“Shit, sorry. It’s me, it’s Ghost,” the man sighed, his accent washing over you like a warm wave. “Forgot my mask.”

You gasped, feeling all your muscles release their tension at once as you slid down the wall and into a weary slump. It was ok. He wasn’t some horrible soldier come to drag you away to a new mission, or an enemy looking to startle you before they bagged a kill. It was just Ghost, and Ghost was safe. And Ghost looked… well you were too tired to really get a solid grip on what you thought of how Ghost looked.  

“What are you doing in here?” you asked, only speaking when you were confident you wouldn’t stutter. 

“You were screamin’, Pup. You looked like you were fighting off possession or somethin’, that must’ve been some bad dream you were having,” Ghost said softly, gently running a hand over the top of your dewy head. 

You gritted your teeth and used the butt of your palms to wipe the stray tears from your cheeks, still feeling your throat burn from all the shrieking. It had been a long time since you’d had one of those dreams, or rather memories, but you knew well enough you’d have been loud. You realised you’d probably woken him if he was coming to you bare faced. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, tail tucking between your legs in realisation.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, bringing his hand down to stroke over your cheek. “I’ve woken up with plenty of those myself.”

“But you…you’ve shown your face to me when you didn’t mean to. I’m sorry,” you sighed, looking away guiltily. 

Your toes curled and your body froze up, your instincts gone haywire as you tried to process what was happening. Was he going to punish you now? Would he beat you until you forgot what he looked like? You shuddered at the thought of your dreams piercing through into reality. 

“No, don’t be sorry, darlin’. I’d have taken it off for you sooner or later anyway,” he shrugged. 

You bit your lip, unconvinced that this was the case. Given that his team didn’t think much of the mask, it was clear that he wore it often. He probably didn’t like to be bare faced around other people. Maybe he wanted to keep his face a secret. 

“Didn’t think it’d effect you this much,” he chuckled, chucking you under your chin. “I did warn you.”

“You warned me?”

“Mhmm. Told you I was bloody handsome.”

Nothing could help the snort that burst from your nose. That then descended into full blown laughter, your body lightening from the growing load that your mind posed. You wrapped your hands round your knees, in an attempt to contain the giggles, and only stopped when you saw the gentle smile that sprouted back onto Ghost’s lips. 

“There you go. Better now, huh?”

You nodded slowly and smiled back at him. For some reason mirroring him felt like the easiest thing in the world. It was like a warm glow had burst from him to you, softening your sharp thoughts and turning your body to jelly. You’d be able to sleep again as if nothing had woken you, usually you would stay up until light broke through your curtains. 

“You wanna talk about anything before I get back to my beauty rest?”

“No, I’m good,” you said hurriedly, not wanting to relive everything you’d dreamed again. 

“Alright then…You get back to sleep, you’ve got another big day ahead. Try not to scare the piss out of me again for another few hours at least,” He sighed. 

You nodded, scooting back over so that you could lie back at the head of your bed. However before you could angle yourself down, Ghost drew you into a side hug. At first you resisted it, curled your hands around his arm so that you could stop whatever harm might come your way, but when there was none. Your eyes grew heavier as he held you, his body heat seeped down into your bones and it tempted you ever deeper into the restful darkness.

You let your hands drop and nuzzled into him. There wasn’t anything to fear. 

“S’my good, Pup,” Ghost mumbled, releasing you seconds later. 

You sank into bed afterwards, falling into a deep sleep as if a switch had been flicked. There were no more disturbances after that. 

-🐺-

“Not so hard, Steamin’ Jesus!”

Soap’s whizzed right past your ears like a bullet, you were too focused on getting to the target point. Paintballs splattered overhead, loud noises rang out from the speakers that’d been set up, and your heart was racing. Everything perfectly combined to drive you wild and send all coherent thought elsewhere. The only reason you stayed put behind your current cover was because you knew Ghost was watching - because of some foreign underlying need to make him proud. 

“Johnny, you have to take control.”

“I’m fuckin’ tryin’! Your bloody sled dog has other ideas,” Soap huffed, growling down the line. 

Ghost’s chuckle rattled around the comms like a swarm of bats. The ever present hand on the front of your neck dug into your collarbone a little, but still you persisted and pushed forward through the resistance. Soap had no idea what he was doing, had no idea how to control your advancement through the fake field. 

“Sled dog tendencies aside, you’re not holding em’ right,” Ghost chastised. “Stop the exercise!”

The splat of the last paintball echoed dully around the room and all at once your more human senses returned. The sharp fuzz in your ears dissipated and the blurring at the edge of your peripheries came staggeringly back into focus. You almost sent Soap crashing when you stopped fighting his hold, though luckily for him he swivelled just in time to keep his feet on solid ground. 

“Fuckin’ here we go,” Soap muttered, releasing your collar. 

You frowned up at him in question, but you didn’t get an opportunity to wonder what he was so pissed about. Ghost jumped into the little arena he’d created and crossed the floor, patting your vest before he took a hold of you himself.

“You’re holdin’ Pup round the front like this,” Ghost said, sliding his hand around your collar to illustrate his point. “You’re just choking them and driving them forward to get away from ya’ or get to the checkpoint.”

“Because your precious little Angel keep’s growlin’ and turnin round when I hold the collar round the back like you do. I feel like I’m about to get my face rearranged again!”

Ghost sighed and put his hand on Soap’s arm, driving the other man to give a cursory glance down at you before fixing a hard look on the Lieutenant. There was no mistaking the sharp little shake of his head he gave, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. Ghost put his hand down, holding it up in mock surrender before it fell completely. 

“It’s because you’re holding on too tight, Johnny,” Ghost explained, his voice growing softer. “You don’t have to. Pup won’t hurt you.” 

“You sure about that?”

“Johnny,” Ghost growled. “Don’t say anything stupid, now.”

You looked up, alarmed at the tone Ghost was taking. You didn’t really blame Soap, or anyone else, for being afraid of you. A lot of people were - anyone who knew your reputation at least, and from that little comment you surmised that Soap was well aware of it. Though from the way Ghost was acting, it was as if Soap had told him he was going to shoot you. His eyes were stuck in a stormy glare and his full height was rigidly stretching up over the Sergeant. 

“You know this is difficult for me,” Soap said, jaw as taught as a piano wire. 

“I know…” Ghost sighed. “But it’ll only be harder if you keep going like this, learning to control a wolf the wrong way will only get you both hurt. You’ve gotta dig deep here, push past the bad memories. This one’ll never hurt you like that.”

“So you keep saying,” Soap grumbled. “Why don’t you try tellin’ them to fuckin’ behave when they’re being handled rather’n having a go at me.”

A creeping feeling of shame crept through your mind, suddenly you felt like a very small child in the middle of a fight between your parents. The tiny little voice you hadn’t heard in so long chimed just as true as it did then, They’re fighting about me again. Your ears folded back straight against your head and you leaned closer into Ghost, accidentally catching eyes with Soap as he registered your movement. 

Soap’s eyes softened. 

“It’s not that simple. I have a plan in the works though,” Ghost said carefully, shifting his gaze to you as he felt you press against him, and then back at Soap. “It’s gonna take a bit to undo years of shit training, yeah? I told you how it’d be before, those shitheads at Branhaven always train up hybrids to look as showy as possible for their superiors. That means they pull like crazy and bark and growl up a riot while they work because it looks effective and scary to the knobheads who don’t need to handle them. I need you all to learn how to handle Pup as they are now before I’ve worked with them, and then you’ll be prepared for anything…’sides, its always you n me together, Johnny, remember? Realistically you’re not gonna have to actually handle them on the field, you just need to be prepared to.”

The ‘Just in case’ that eluded his last sentence was silent.

The whole time you couldn’t help dwelling on the fact that Ghost was unusually…tender for a man in charge over the Sergeant. Normally when people bitched at the higher ups in your base they’d be shouted at and told to man up or fuck off. Ghost was actually explaining himself to Soap, trying to rationalise what he was doing as if he somehow owed it to him. He treated Soap like he treated you, ensuring he was able to calm down and trying to fill him in so he could take comfort in knowing what was happening. 

The treatment seemed to work just as well on Soap as it did you. He huffed out a defeated breath and relaxed, looking from you to Ghost while the irate cloud above him dispersed and became lost in the gentle atmosphere. 

“Fine. Can you show me what to do again?”

“Atta boy,” Ghost said, grin evident in his voice. “Hand here, and legs nice and stable. You need to keep moving forward at a nice even pace, you have to set the right speed. Soon as Pup tries to push on ahead, you grip the back of their neck like that.”

You growled as you felt Ghost put pressure on your scruff, instinctively feeling the work drive build up within you. He just shook his head and gave you an unamused stare for your efforts. 

“The growling’s all just noise. Stupid noise,” Ghost said, intentionally setting his eyes on you, “but there’s no intention of threat behind it - not while we’re in charge.”

“What do you mean ‘not while we’re in charge’?” Soap asked, making a face. 

“Pup won’t have any reason to hurt us. We’re not gonna go yanking tails and hitting like fuckin’ children when we don’t get our way.”

“Wh- y’mean that was a commanding officer that did that?” Soap asked, motioning to your crooked tail. 

“Like I said - shit training. C’mon, take the collar.”

Soap didn’t quite look like he’d recovered from the shock of being told about your tail. He gingerly reached out and took your collar with a frown set heavily into his face. You wondered if it was because he really pitied you that much, or if it was because he thought you might take out your anger on him. You leaned more toward the latter reasoning. Despite his reservations though, he was able to do as Ghost asked this time. 

“Good, that’s it, Johnny.” 

Soap visibly puffed up from the praise. His grip on you tightened. He was more sure of himself now, he marched ahead and set you into an even pace, the rhythm catching onto your feet contagiously. Naturally there were still a few moments where you wanted to pull forward and rush through, but now that Soap was placing his trust in Ghost’s intuition, you were gently guided into keeping within his step. 

“Good Pup, keep it up!”

Soap didn’t immediately latch onto what Ghost had told him about your growling, he still wrenched himself back a few times after correcting you. The horrible tractor-like sound would comically twist his features. However this time, he was actually able to get to the checkpoint with you. Then after a few more trials, you were both flying down the course, high on Ghost’s praises and untouched by any paintball that tried to come your way. 

After the fourth time he called for a break, roughly crossing his hands into a T shape while he doubled over and panted and puffed for air. His signature sage scent wafted strongly from him now, invading your senses and forcing you back a step or two.

A discreet smile stole its way onto your face, a smug one if you were honest. There was a steady tension starting to warm in your legs, but you were no where near over extension. Apparently all the breakfast and rest you’d gotten had done you wonders, because you felt like you could keep going all day and all night, maybe longer than that. It made you wonder if maybe Price and Ghost didn’t have a point to all the nice things they were doing for you afterall. 

“You did well, Soap,” Ghost chuckled, wandering back onto the course with a swagger to his step. “You too, Pup. Reckon you’ll be nice and warmed up for Price and Garrick now.”

“Christ, Pup’s gonna do this two more times?” Soap asked, looking over at you in wonder. 

“Mhmm,” Ghost hummed.

“You not tired?” Soap asked, directing his question toward you.. 

You laughed at that, unsure as to why he’d be so shocked you were going to keep going. Normally you’d spend your whole days training when you weren’t on an active mission. Running and sparring were practically all you knew. If you were to tire out early, you’d be punished for it, blamed for not getting enough sleep or not eating your shitty MREs. Stopping wasn’t in the equation. 

“I can go all day,” you shrugged.

“Christ, and they tell me I’m hyperactive.”

-🐺-

Overall impressed with your performance that day, Ghost had insisted on dragging you out to a shopping villiage, or as you now thought of it - a torture desensitisation arena. Even later on at night, there were so many people around: screaming children that were moaning about being tired and hungry, teenagers laughing like hyenas, couples arguing over what they should and shouldn’t spend their money on. It didn’t help that there were so many busy shop fronts as well, colours and flashing lights and products you wouldn’t even know what to do with. It was a circus of too many stimuli and you were stuck at it’s roaring centre, sticking to Ghost like a fly on tape. 

As soon as he’d parked up you’d demanded to know why he’d brought you there, not able to help the rising panic at being taken somewhere new. He’d explained that it was time to buy you some much needed casual clothes. Personal items. At the mention of that dreaded subject, you’d tried to protest and remind him about getting your brand new stack of clothes from the quartermaster, but Ghost had just snorted and said that he wasn’t taking you everywhere in your uniform. He didn’t care for the looks it would get him - said the man wearing a black medical skull mask over his face.

Undeterred by your saying that he didn't need to waste money on you, Ghost all but yanked you into all clothes shops, leading you by the hand and forcing you to pick casual clothes that you liked from the small selection the hybrid sections offered. It was an exercise made to humiliate, you’d thought, you had no idea how to pick clothes for yourself that weren’t standard issue - had no idea what colours and materials and fits went together with what. He’d made you pick what felt good in the end, said that Soap had told him the important thing was picking something comfortable - it didn’t narrow your search by very much.

Propelled by the thought of getting to leave if you just compiled, you eventually settled on some blue vans trainers, a cosy pullover hoodie, two new pyjama sets, a couple of pairs of jeans and a few T-shirts that weren’t too adventurous - save for the one that had some illustrated plants on it. Even that little amount felt like far too much, overwhelming you with how much choice you’d have when your promised downtime would come. Though every time you asked if you’d picked enough, Ghost would just fix you with a stony look that told you to keep going. 

Then as if that wasn’t enough, he took you over to a bookshop as well, claiming you needed something to entertain yourself with in your downtime. Even when you told him you’d managed alright up till that point. However, when you were left to explore so that Ghost could go pick something for himself, it wasn’t the books there that you were most taken by. 

“What’ve you got there then?”

You froze, shoulders bunching as you heard Ghost’s voice softly break your awed silence and looked guiltily down at the little puppy teddy you were holding. You weren’t supposed to be looking at that- that’s what you figured when you saw his shadow cross your path. A picture of his sneering face crossed your mind’s eye, darkened by that unruly blonde fringe of his. 

What were you supposed to say to him? After blankly looking at a few of the books, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over to the little displays of plushies, and had slowly gravitated toward it when you saw the little dog that was now in your hands. 

The dog’s fur was so unbelievably soft and its little spotted face reminded you of one of your favourite cartoons from when you were small. It called out to you and lured you in with the reminder of some old theme song that played in your head, made you pick it up and stroke its squishy black and white tummy with a smile plastered all over your face. 

“I got distracted, sorry,” you murmured, gently placing it amongst its spotted siblings. 

Ghost came round to your side and picked up the same puppy you’d been holding. You tilted your head in surprise and watched as he did the same as you, stroking the soft tummy while inspecting it. It looked comically smaller in his hands though, like a newborn pup. 

“You want him?”

Your ears perked in surprise when he spoke. Finally you chanced a look up at him and felt your cheeks warm when you made eye contact, thoroughly embarrassed that you’d been caught. Though he didn’t look judgemental like you’d thought he would, instead he just stared at you earnestly over his black medical mask and gave you a chance to speak. 

“I…um...” you weren’t sure what to say. 

Of course you wanted him. Every little instinct in you wanted to take the toy and hold it and cuddle it and never let go. However that wasn’t the kind of behaviour befitting of a military class hybrid like you, and it was the kind of thing you’d have been endlessly mocked, if not punished for before. 

Soldiers don’t cuddle their teddy bears and blankets, they make their beds quickly and efficiently and don’t concern themselves with such stupid frivolities!

“It’s not a trick question, Pup. No wrong answer,” Ghost supplied, holding the puppy out to you encouragingly. 

You breathed out a sigh, but your chest didn’t feel any less heavy. Even if it was such a silly decision to make, it still felt like such a big undertaking. If you said yes and took it, would Ghost think less of you? You already thought less of you for wanting it. You were already filled with judgement, the voices of all the superiors that had ever disciplined you mocking you in one big evil choir. 

Stupid little baby wolf. 

You whined, but even despite yourself, you took it and held it to your chest. 

“Hey, you deserve to have things of your own, that’s what tonight’s all about,” Ghost said, gently setting his hand on your shoulder as he did so. “You deserve to exist outside of the military, to be more than a war dog. If this makes you happy, then we should get ‘im.”

You wanted to keel over then as you rolled your eyes, let your whole body collapse with the motion. This dog at least was a simple decision in terms of what you liked, much easier than when you’d been standing in front of all those dreaded clothes racks, but it didn’t make finalising it any easier. Not when your feelings were colliding like waves against a harbour wall, one side seemingly solid while the other corroded it.

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“I’m not supposed to want things like this,” you mumbled, holding the teddy out in front of yourself again like it was some kind of alien object. 

“Why not?” he chuckled.

“Because it’s for children,” you said dryly.

“It’s not for children,” he scoffed. “There’s no rules on who gets to buy cuddly toys. Anyway, you clearly want the little fella, so we’re getting him.”

You frowned, looking confusedly down at the dog again. 

“But It’s a distraction…All of this stuff is,” you uttered, feeling Maddox’s voice speak through you like a spell had been cast. “It’ll take my mind off important things and get everyone hurt.”

You thought back to the kid in the bunk next to you, the one that had cried on the first day because they couldn’t have their teddy bear to sleep with. Maddox had lectured you all then and there, almost shouting the fur off your ears, saying that hybrid soldiers couldn’t let anything get in the way of them functioning. Needing a teddy bear to sleep wouldn’t fly when you were overseas and catching bullets because you were sleep deprived, reading books to escape your miserable new lives would get you killed when your heads were still stuck in them, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. 

“You don’t think we all need distractions sometimes?” Ghost asked. “Distractions make life worth living, and you’re no less deserving of that than anyone on the team. Don’t you think?”

You didn’t have an answer for that. In fact, you were arguing a point that wasn’t even yours. So, in response, you shrugged and traced one of the puppy’s patches.

“I think you care about me like…a weird amount,” you mumbled. 

“A weird amount?” Ghost scoffed, hiding a crinkly eyed smile behind his mask. “Why’s it weird to care about you, huh?” 

You shrugged again. 

“Ok, listen. You’ve been all twisted up by those idiots at your last base and I want you to know that I’m not gonna legitimise a single thing that they’ve taught you. This is what it’s going to be like now, this is what you get for coming in everyday and working your arse off. The fact that you’ve been given no compensation and been run so badly into the ground by those cretins is nothing short of appalling. Believe me when I tell you that I know it’s not as simple as flicking a switch and getting used to good treatment - it won’t happen just because I tell you it’s all over now and I understand that. Just…let me give you a little bit of comfort, yeah? Just to show you how things should be. Just enjoy a distraction or two and see that it won’t be life ending, and it’s not gonna get taken away from you. I promise you’ll be fine” 

Your throat was too thick with emotion to answer. So instead of making a fool out of yourself you nodded your assent and looked down at your new prize with wonder. How long had it been since you’d owned something that didn’t have any function or use on the battlefield? How long since you’d held something so soft?

“Now…did you actually look at any books or did you just stand and bully yourself for wanting something nice?”

You jumped when Ghost’s grizzled voice sounded out and brought your mind back to task, shaking your head of all your musings. Choosing books - right. All at once, the multicoloured aisles came back to view and all the people in them, the room filled out around you and made you hold your puppy down low at your side and out of view.

“Yeah, I um- I think I found something cool.”

-🐺-

That night Ghost let you stay up in bed for a little bit to read. Leaving you nestled in your swarm of blankets sitting side by side with your new friend as the plush sat up against the pillows with you. Your eyes poured over the artwork of your new graphic novels in wonder, admiring the bold colours and thick lines, turning the glossy pages ever so slowly as if your heart would stop beating when you got to the end of the book. 

When you ended the first chapter you smiled down at the little dog rather childishly and bit your lip. It was silly to name inanimate objects, it didn’t take someone standing over you and shouting at you to know that, though you couldn’t help it when the name seemed to cling to him with an unshakable grip. Simon. You’d name him Simon after the main character in the story. It seemed to suit the little black and white dog just as much as it did the hybrid boy, and now there was no changing it - unfortunately for you. 

[writingbuckets]

Broken Plays: Chapter 3

paige bueckers x reader

wc: 3.6k

a/n: this part's a little longer, but it's a chapter full of tension. thank you, thank you, thank you for reading and reblogging this fanfic <3

**********

The gym lights were high, casting a warm golden glow across the basketball court. You hadn’t set foot on a basketball court in years, not since you’d walked away from the game that had once been your entire life. Back in high school, you’d been unstoppable—a top player in the state, your future seemingly laid out in front of you. But that future had come crashing down the moment you’d torn your ACL during a championship game. The recovery had been brutal, not just physically but mentally. And once you realized you’d never be the same player again, you’d made the painful decision to quit and focus on school.

Your competitive streak, though, had never really faded.

Now, standing on the edge of the court, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of nostalgia and anxiety. You’d spent so many afternoons on a court, playing with friends, pushing yourself to be the best. But today was different. Today, you weren’t here to relive the glory days—you were here because Jana and Azzi, Paige’s teammates, had roped you into playing a friendly pick-up game.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Jana had said earlier that day when you’d bumped into each other on campus. “We need one more for a full five-on-five, and we all know you can hoop.”

When the invitation to play in the pick-up game came up, memories started flashing through your mind, unbidden but vivid. You could almost feel the weight of the basketball in your hands, the rush of adrenaline, and the rhythm you’d once shared with Paige on the court.

You could still picture Paige, sweaty but grinning, as you all matched each other’s pace in a silent challenge. You’d been so in sync back then. Those games had started as just a way to help Paige work through her injury—she’d needed a steady partner to keep her going while she recovered, someone who wouldn’t let her push too hard. And somehow, you’d become that for Paige, keeping her grounded, channeling all that intensity into controlled movement.

“C’mon, just one more drill,” Paige would say, flashing her that cocky smile that always made you cave.

Those games had turned into late-night rituals, a way to let off steam and feel that rush you both craved. Sneakers squeaking against the hardwood, quick glances that didn’t need words, and laughter breaking through the silence—you’d fallen into a rhythm that felt effortless yet somehow charged.

But the last time you’d played had felt different. Paige had been close to fully healed, ready to get back to her real training, and maybe that’s why the tension had been heavier than ever. You’d wanted to say something, but neither of you broke the silence. You’d just left the court, pretending it was a game like any other.

Now, sitting here, remembering it all, you realized your last game—the last time you’d felt truly alive on a court—had been with Paige. And as much as you’d tried to push those memories aside, that ache in your chest told your they were still there, waiting

You had hesitated at first, not sure if you wanted to open that door again. But Jana had been persistent, and eventually, you agreed. Besides, it was just for fun, right?

You didn’t know, at the time, though you should’ve, that Paige would be there too.

“Ready to get your ass kicked?” Jana teased as you stood by the court, tossing the ball from hand to hand.

You smirked, adjusting the hem of your athletic shorts. “I’m just here to make you look bad, don’t worry.”

Azzi snorted, leaning against the chain-link fence. “Jana always looks bad. She doesn’t need help.”

Jana threw the ball at Azzi’s chest, but she caught it with ease, grinning. “Let’s see what you’ve got, then.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling some of your tension melt away. You liked Jana and Azzi—they were laid-back and fun, and their banter always made you laugh. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that they were Paige’s teammates, part of her world.

As you made their way onto the court, you spotted Paige almost immediately. She was warming up on the far side, her eyes focused on the hoop as she took a series of jump shots. Your heart did a little flip in your chest, but you shoved the feeling down, refusing to let it show.

“Of course, she’s here,” you muttered under your breath.

Jana shot you a glance. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Let’s do this.”

You all split into teams, with you ending up on Azzi’s side, while Jana joined Paige’s. The tension was palpable from the moment the game started. Paige, who was usually sharp and focused on the court, seemed off her game. Her shots were sloppy, her movements hesitant, and you could feel the weight of Paige’s gaze on you every time you made a move.

You, on the other hand, were on fire. Your body might not have been in peak shape like it used to be, but muscle memory kicked in, and soon you were running the court like you hadn’t missed a day. The ball felt natural in your hands, and the thrill of competition surged through your veins.

But every time you drove to the basket, Paige was there, guarding you like a hawk. The physicality of your play became increasingly aggressive, as if your unspoken frustrations were being funneled into each push and shove. Paige blocked you more than once, her arms tangling with yours in ways that felt far too personal, far too charged.

“Still got it, huh?” Paige muttered after one particularly heated exchange, where you nearly lost your balance trying to drive past Paige.

You shot her a glare, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s wrong, Bueckers? Distracted?”

Paige’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she refocused, her movements sharper, more deliberate. You could feel the shift immediately—Paige wasn’t going to let you off easy now.

**********

The game continued with rising intensity, neither of you willing to back down. The others on the court seemed to notice the change, the air thickening with tension that had nothing to do with basketball and everything to do with the unresolved feelings swirling between Paige and you.

With every dribble, every pass, your mind flashed back to the last time you and Paige had spoken, the cold detachment in Paige’s voice when she had pushed you away, shutting down any possibility of a real relationship. The pain of that moment, of realizing Paige didn’t feel the same, fueled your movements now. You played harder, faster, your frustration boiling over.

It wasn’t long before the aggression between you two spilled over into the game itself. You collided again, this time with Paige throwing a hard shoulder as you tried to make a layup. The impact sent you stumbling backward, and you hit the ground hard, skidding on the hardwood.

For a moment, everything went silent.

“Shit,” Paige muttered, immediately stepping toward you. “You okay?”

You gritted your teeth, ignoring the sting in your palms and the throbbing in your knee as you pushed yourself back to your feet. “I’m fine,” you snapped, brushing off Paige’s hand.

Paige’s eyes flashed with something—guilt, maybe? Or frustration? But you didn’t care. You weren’t about to let Paige see your weakness.

“You sure?” Paige asked, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You shot her a glare, wiping your hands on your shorts. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s gonna take more than that to knock me down.”

For a second, Paige seemed like she wanted to say something, but then she closed her mouth, her expression hardening. “Alright. Let’s keep playing.”

The game continued, though the aggression had simmered down somewhat. Still, the tension lingered, thick and heavy between you two. Paige played like she had something to prove, and you, well… you weren’t going to let Paige win—not here, not after everything.

When the game finally ended, both of you were drenched in sweat, your chests heaving with exertion. Azzi and Jana high-fived their teammates, exchanging laughs and easy smiles, but you felt no sense of relief. You could still feel the weight of Paige’s gaze on you, burning into your back as you grabbed you water bottle from the sideline.

You needed to get out of here. You needed space.

You took a long drink from your water bottle, your hands still trembling slightly from the adrenaline. Your muscles ached in a way they hadn’t in years, but it was a good kind of ache—the kind that reminded you just how much you missed this, missed playing. But as much as you had enjoyed the game itself, the lingering tension with Paige left a bitter taste in you mouth.

“Nice game, by the way,” Jana said, nudging you with a grin. “You’ve got serious skills. Ever think about joining intramurals or something?”

You forced a smile, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m out of practice. Besides, I’ve got too much on my plate with school.”

Jana laughed. “Yeah, sure. But you could still school us any day.”

Azzi added, “Seriously, you were on fire out there. You sure you haven’t been secretly training?”

You chuckled, brushing off their compliments. “Thanks, but trust me, I’m rusty.”

Before they could ask more questions, Paige approached from behind, her footsteps deliberate. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as Paige came to a stop next to you, arms crossed over her chest.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Paige’s voice was low, but there was no mistaking the tension behind it.

You tensed. You knew what was coming, and you weren’t in the mood for it. “We’ve got nothing to talk about,” you said coolly, not bothering to look up at her.

Jana and Azzi exchanged glances, sensing the shift in the air, but they didn’t say anything. Instead, they mumbled something about heading out and left you and Paige standing alone near the sidelines.

Paige, clearly not taking no for an answer, stepped closer. “Just give me five minutes.”

You finally looked up, meeting Paige’s gaze. Your heart clenched at the sight of her—sweaty, disheveled, but still managing to look effortlessly composed. “Five minutes for what? To explain why you couldn’t bother to give me an answer before?”

Paige’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t back down. “I know I messed up, okay? I just… I didn’t know how to handle everything back then.”

You let out a sharp laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. “Wow, that’s original. ‘I didn’t know how to handle it.’ You really think that’s gonna work after months of silence?”

Paige exhaled, her frustration clearly rising. “Can you stop for one second and let me—”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had to stop feeling angry just because you finally decided it’s convenient for you to talk,” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Paige looked at you, and for a brief moment, the mask she wore cracked. The guarded, confident exterior slipped, revealing something vulnerable beneath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” Paige said quietly, “but I didn’t want things to end like that. You were important to me.”

“Important?” You raised an eyebrow, your voice laced with bitterness. “Funny way of showing it. You were fine stringing me along, keeping things casual because you didn’t want anything serious. And when I finally told you how I felt, you shut me down like it was nothing.”

Paige winced at the words, but you didn’t stop. The anger you’d been holding back for so long spilled out now, each word sharper than the last.

“You know what? I should thank you,” you continued, your voice icy. “You made me realize I deserve better than someone who’s too scared to figure out what they want.”

Paige’s face hardened, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “You think this was easy for me? You think I didn’t care?”

“Care?” You scoffed. “You couldn’t care enough to even have a conversation with me. You made your decision the moment you walked away without even trying with me.”

Paige took a step closer, her voice tight with emotion. “I didn’t walk away because I didn’t care. I walked away because I didn’t want to hurt you more.”

“Well, newsflash,” you snapped, stepping forward to meet her head-on. “You did.”

For a moment, you two stood there, inches apart, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you. Your chest heaved with the effort of holding back tears you didn’t want to shed, not in front of Paige, not after everything.

Finally, Paige broke the silence. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart clenched, but you weren’t ready to let Paige off the hook. Not yet. “Sorry doesn’t change anything, Paige.”

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Paige standing there, frustration and regret etched across her face.

**********

Back at your apartment, you collapsed onto your bed, exhaustion settling into your bones. The game, the confrontation with Paige, everything had taken more out of you than you wanted to admit. You stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Paige could just waltz back into your life, stir up old feelings, and expect things to go back to normal. You had spent months trying to move on, to bury the pain that Paige had caused. But no matter how hard you tried, every time you saw Paige, the wound reopened.

You didn’t want to care anymore. You didn’t want to feel this way—torn between anger, hurt, and the small, fragile part of you that still cared about Paige, despite everything.

But as you lay there, staring into the darkness, you knew it wasn’t that simple.

A few days after the intense pick-up game, you found yourself in the campus auditorium, standing in front of a small group of classmates. You were rehearsing the presentation with your project partners, Jana and Azzi, both of whom were just as tired of this project as you were. It had been a long couple of weeks leading up to this, and you were determined to nail the final presentation.

The topic was complex, a deep dive into a recent breakthrough in sports science and how it impacted athletic performance. You were the one holding the team together—your natural leadership and intellect driving the group to success. You’d always had that intensity, the same drive you once channeled into basketball, now fully focused on your academic career.

“Alright, let’s wrap this up,” you said, standing in front of the projector screen as the last slide flickered into view. “That’s the final segment, so we’ll take questions from the class after this part.”

Azzi nodded, scrolling through her notes. “I think that worked better than our last run-through.”

Jana added, “Yeah, we’re finally getting our timing right. Should be smooth.”

You smiled a little, feeling the familiar buzz of excitement that came from doing something well. You were proud of the work you all had done—your passion for the subject came through in every slide, every piece of data you’d pulled together. The group of classmates in front of you, mostly there to offer feedback, began gathering their notes to discuss.

As the group started to break apart, one of your classmates, a guy named Luke, approached you. He was tall, with an easy smile and a friendly demeanor, someone you’d spoken to in passing but never really talked to beyond classwork.

“That was a really impressive presentation,” Luke said, smiling as he stood in front of you. “You clearly know your stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by the sudden attention. “Thanks. I guess all that studying paid off.”

“It definitely did,” Luke replied, his eyes lingering on yours a bit longer than necessary. “You explained the technical aspects really well. You’ve got a real knack for this.”

You chuckled, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the subtle flirtation in his tone. “Appreciate it. But trust me, my teammates did just as much work.”

Jana, who was still gathering her things nearby, snorted softly under her breath, glancing sideways at Azzi, who had already noticed Luke’s obvious interest. You, meanwhile, were playing it cool, but you couldn’t help noticing the extra attention he was giving you.

Luke continued, “Well, if you ever need help prepping for another project, or even just a study session, let me know. I’d be down to work with you sometime.”

You gave a polite smile, casually deflecting. “Sure, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Luke lingered for a second longer, clearly wanting to say more, but you kept your response brief, making it clear you weren’t interested in prolonging the conversation. After a few more pleasantries, he finally took the hint and walked away, leaving Jana and Azzi exchanging amused looks.

As soon as Luke was out of earshot, Jana sidled up next to you with a teasing grin. “Well, well, well… Looks like someone’s got an admirer.”

Azzi joined in, smirking. “You should’ve seen the way he was looking at you. Man was ready to write you a love letter.”

You rolled your eyes, stuffing your notes into your bag. “Oh, please. He was just being nice.”

“Nice?” Jana laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Girl, that was flirting, not being nice. He’s got it bad.”

Azzi added, “You could totally reel him in if you wanted to.”

You shook your head, a laugh escaping your lips. “Not interested. I’ve got too much on my plate to deal with that.”

Jana and Azzi didn’t let up, though. “Come on, you deserve to have a little fun. You’ve been killing it in class and haven’t been out in ages. You could at least give the guy a shot.”

You shot them both a pointed look, your voice playful but firm. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m good without the distractions.”

They continued teasing you as they walked out of the auditorium together, but you shrugged it off, feeling more amused than anything. You didn’t have time for dating right now, not with your coursework demanding all your attention. Besides, you were still trying to navigate your way through the emotional fallout of everything with Paige.

You lounged on Jana’s bed, scrolling through your phone while Jana and Azzi sprawled on the floor, leaning against the bed with snacks scattered around them. They were still riding the high from the presentation, and their playful banter was infectious.

“Okay, but seriously,” Jana said, swiping through her phone. “You’ve got to see this.” She turned the screen toward you, revealing a picture of Luke mid-laugh, taken during the presentation.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “What is that? A candid shot or something?”

“More like a hot shot,” Azzi quipped, snatching the phone from Jess’s hands. “Look at this one! He’s actually cute.” She swiped again, revealing another selfie of Luke, this time with a goofy expression. “I mean, he’s definitely got that ‘I play basketball on the weekends’ vibe.”

Jana added, “And look at those arms! You could totally do worse, you know.” She raised an eyebrow, clearly reveling in the teasing.

You rolled your eyes, trying to feign disinterest, but the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed you. “You guys are ridiculous. It was just a compliment.”

“Oh, please!” Jana shot back with a laugh. “You’re telling me if he asked you out, you wouldn’t at least think about it? A nice dinner, maybe some fun banter? You’d be all over that.”

“Yeah, and what if he thinks you’re too caught up in your studies?” Azzi chimed in, smirking. “Maybe he’d want to help you relax a little, you know? A date to get your mind off things?”

You felt your cheeks heat up even more. “Stop it! Seriously, I’m not looking for any distractions right now.”

“Not even for a cute guy?” Jana teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “Come on! I’m telling you, Luke is into you. Just look at how he was practically hanging on your every word during the presentation.”

“Yeah, and he probably thinks I’m too busy for him,” you retorted, shaking your head. “Besides, you two can keep dreaming. I’ve got enough to deal with without adding a boy to the mix.”

At that moment, the faint sound of a door creaking open caught your attention. You glanced at the door to their common area, and your heart skipped when you saw Paige’s silhouette just outside, peeking in. You held your breath, unsure if Paige would join you all or retreat back to her room.

But instead, after a brief moment of hesitation, Paige closed the door softly, the click echoing in the quiet hallway. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. You couldn’t help but wonder if Paige had been listening to your conversation about Luke.

“Who was that?” Azzi asked. She turned to look at the door, noticing your distraction.

“Just Paige,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light but failing to mask the slight edge in your voice.

Jana exchanged a knowing glance with Azzi. “What do you think she thinks about you and Mr. Basketball?”

“Probably thinks I’m some desperate loser,” you shot back, rolling your eyes again. “Just like you two.”

Jana and Azzi erupted into laughter, but there was an underlying tension in your chest as you replayed the moment in your mind. Did Paige really care? Did it bother her that Luke had been flirting?

“Seriously, though,” Jana said, settling down again. “You should text him. Just a casual ‘thanks for the compliment’ or something.”

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over your phone screen. “I’ll think about it.”

But as they continued their playful mockery of Luke and yours nonexistent love life, the nagging thought of Paige’s reaction hung heavily in the air, stirring up an internal battle you weren’t quite ready to face.

[buckyalpine]

I adore all of your stories and turn to them at night when my brain won’t stop running. I have kind of a weird request. How would Bucky react to his girl temporarily losing her memory? (I once lost mine for two weeks due to a bad reaction to a medicine, so this pops in my mind from time to time.) The reader doesn’t remember who he is, but still feels safest when she’s with him. I’m sure he’d be the absolute sweetest. And since he’d know what it was like, he’d probably know what’s helpful and what makes things worse. When she eventually recovers, she remembers all he did for her and falls even more in love 🥰 Maybe some spicy thank yous?

Sorry if it’s too specific or out of your comfort zone! Feel free to change anything (I did base it a bit on what happened to me, but I’m sure it’d be different for everyone). Thanks!!

YESS THIS IS SO SWEET AND SOFT AND ADORABLE

"I need back up on the east wing!" Steve's voice crackled through the coms, his breathing labored as he tossed off another hydra operative against the wall, "A-agent down!"

You were passed out on the floor, dust and rubble surrounding you after exhausting yourself, 3 stab wounds were bleeding profusely from your abdomen along with other cuts and bruises littering your skin. Your head throbbed in pain from where you'd been hit and with each passing second it became harder for you to stay awake. You'd tried your best to keep your eyes open with Steve's pleading but it was too much; the pain started to dull and the world went black.

-

"It's a strong medication and she might be out for a little longer but she's going to be okay. We just have to keep monitoring her" Dr. Cho's voice spoke softly just outside of the room where you still laid unconscious. After getting patched up and scanned for damages, you were dosed with anything and everything to keep you rested and to help with pain. You had visitors day in and day out to check on you but the one that never left your bedside was your sweet boyfriend.

"Baby please wake up" Bucky softly pleaded as he ran his fingers gently across your face, not wanting to disturb you but also unable to keep his hands to himself. Not when he just wanted to see you open your eyes again, hating the fact that he hadn't heard your voice in two weeks.

Two weeks.

That's how long you'd been out for.

He was patient, not wanting to rush your healing time but he missed you so much. He continued his soft ministrations, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles and peppering kisses across your cheeks. He noticed the slight flutter of your lashes, sitting up immediately when your heart monitor picked up.

"Sweetheart?" He kept his voice low, paging for a nurse to come check on you while holding your hand, his heart racing when you finally opened your eyes. "Oh baby"

You blinked at the fluorescent lights of the room, looking at the sterile environment surrounding you. Bucky stroked your hand, hoping to ease away how disoriented you were probably feeling, giving you a soft smile when you finally met his eyes.

"How are you doll?"

"Um-I'm fine?" You stared at the handsome stranger that was by your bedside, his beautiful blue eyes swirling with emotion as he continued to clutch onto your hand.

"I was so worried y/n"

"Who-I'm really sorry, who are you?"

Bucky's eyes widened with horror, quickly recomposing himself seeing your confused expression. He dropped your hand, immediately adding space between you both, offering you comforting smile before heading out of the door.

"Let me get the doctor" He didn't want to worry you, keeping a steady voice as he spoke before speeding down the corridor as soon as he was out of sight. He wasted no time informing the others about what had just happened, the team all patiently waiting outside of your room while the doctor checked on you.

"Will she be okay?" the words came tumbling out of Bucky as soon as Dr. Cho finished running a few tests, shutting the door behind her, letting you rest. He'd been pacing up and down the hall like a changed animal the entire time, only stopping when he heard Dr. Cho gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Her memory will come back eventually but until then it's important things are calm for her. Between the hits she took and the medication, she doesn't remember much from the last 2 years. You have to remember, throwing too much information at her will set her back so do your best to keep things the way she'd understand"

It wasn't going to be easy. There was no time line for when your memory would return and you had just joined the team two years ago. You didn't remember anyone, having no recollections of all the memories you'd built with them, nor remembering any of the friendships you had. As soon as you were discharged, you took the first day to rest in your room, not knowing that Nat had cleaned out all memories of Bucky so you wouldn't feel more confused.

After sleeping for most of the day, a man knocked on your door and introduced himself as Tony Stark, the very Iron Man. You couldn't recall too much but the name rang a bell; you knew he was the main person for you to go to if you needed anything. His first task was to take you around the compound, introducing you to various members of the team.

You met Nat and Clint training together in the gym. Sam had been tinkering with something called Red Wing. Steve had welcomed you with a warm hug and Bruce had been working away in the lab. Tony continued his tour, walking you through the kitchen when your eyes landed on a familiar face from before.

"And whose that" You felt your face heat up as you pointed over to the handsome man that has been by your bed earlier in the day, still feeling his soft touch on your skin.

"That's Bucky, or Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes" Tony stated, smiling at the way your eyes lingered on the soldier for longer than necessary. "Here, let's go say hi"

Tony sauntered over to where Bucky was nursing a cup of coffee, the bags under his eyes growing from a lack of sleep but that didn't stop him from throwing you a bashful smile when Tony introduced brought you to him.

"Barnes, this is y/n, she's joining our team soon"

"Nice to meet you doll" Bucky shook your hand with the utmost care, the pet name he had just for you rolling off his tongue with ease. "Let me know if you need anything"

You felt butterflies at the smirk the soldier threw your way before making his way over to the gym, the blue eyes twinkling with something you couldn't quite place. The rest of the day went by smoothly and later that night you accepted the teams invitation to join them for dinner and then later a movie night.

You were aware that you'd sustained an injury which was affecting your memory; what you still didn't know was how much of your memory was missing. You felt nervous as you made you way to the dining table, everyone sitting in their designated spot, chatting away while passing dishes to each other.

Before you could quietly retreat to your room, you locked eyes with those familiar baby blues, a smile growing on his face. Bucky got up from his seat, noting how anxious you looked, understanding seeing everyone together would be overwhelming when you didn't remember any of them. He knew exactly how that felt and there was no way he was going to let you ever feel even an ounce of that.

"I hope you're hungry, doll" Bucky spoke to you softly, not bringing attention to where you'd backed up against the wall in hopes of not being noticed.

"A little" You lied, the rumble of your stomach giving away that you were starving.

"Would-would you like to join me out in the garden? I'll bring some food out for you" Bucky offered, hoping you'd feel less overwhelmed with a bit of space.

"Yes please, thank you Bucky" You shyly smiled as he stepped away to get you some food, taking both of your plates outside to eat under the soft glow of the moon. You appreciated that he didn't bombard you with questions; the both of you eating in comfortable silence until it was time for the movie. All the anxiety you'd anticipated feeling disappeared into thin air when Bucky made some space for you to sit beside him. He picked a section of the room where you'd be able to sneak off undetected if you wanted to leave early.

There was something about the Sergeant that made you feel safe. You felt loved by everyone but with Bucky it was just different. You felt safe around him. You trusted him. You didn't know him all that well and yet whenever he was around, you knew you didn't have to worry.

There were days where your anxiety would be at an all time high, worried about why you were getting vivid flashes of random memories and terrible headaches that made you nauseous. In those moments where you felt so lost, so out of control over your own thoughts, Bucky would ground you, just being around him making you feel better.

You couldn't understand why you felt so safe around a man you barely knew but you found yourself seeking him out more and more, desperate for more of his kind words, gentle touches and soothing voice.

He really was the sweetest.

-

It killed Bucky. His heart was hurting. He was a stranger to you and it shattered him, wishing he could kiss and cuddle you every night and tell you he was so glad you were okay, that a part of him nearly died when you didn't wake up. Everyday he had to bid you good night with nothing more than a smile, so badly wanting to hold you tight in his arms instead.

None of that mattered right now.

Not when you needed him the most even if you didn't know it.

He was going to do whatever it took to get you better, taking care of you every step of the way in the best way you needed until you remembered. He could tell by the way you giggled, by the way you smiled, that even if you didn't remember everything, there was always something between you both.

He'd never give up on you no matter how long it took.

-

"Shit" You hissed, dropping the mug of tea you were sipping on, the cup shattering on the floor with a crash. Searing pain felt like it was splitting your head into to, your hands clutching onto your throbbing temples, squeezing your eyes shut, the headaches you'd been getting happening more frequently.

You'd cut back on the medication you were taking, which had actually helped with regaining some of your memory but it also meant you'd go through bouts of pain without anything to help it. Flashes of a mission gone wrong streamed through you memory between fiery throbbing, even the soft day light overwhelming your sense.

"B-Bucky!!" You cried out, your knees buckling as you slumped onto the floor, blinking back tears as another wave of pain passed. You didn't need anything else but you needed your Bucky, the only person you felt felt safe with, the person you'd loved for all these years, the man who was by your bedside for days on end after you didn't wake up-

"Doll? Fuck, y/n, whats wrong sweets" Bucky found you curled up in a ball on the cool kitchen tile, sweeping you up into his arms and holding your head against his chest, his arms covering your face from the light, while his cool metal arm was pressed firmly against your forehead to ease the pain. "M'here y/n, you're okay, you're okay"

He rocked you, not moving from the floor while whispering in your ear, hoping the pain would pass quickly.

"Jamie, it hurts" You whimpered, clutching onto his Henley, the scent of his body wash calming you down. Bucky froze, not saying a word, his heart hammering against his chest at what you'd just called him.

Could that mean-

"Do-do you want to go lie down sweets?" Bucky spoke carefully, feeling you nod, still staying tucked against him. He carried you up to your room, only to have you shake your head as best as you could, wanting to go to his room instead.

"Just want to sleep for a bit baby, please?" you pleaded with him, hardly realizing the tears that were now streaming down his face as he made his way down to his room instead. He was your Jamie, your baby, you were finally coming back to him. Bucky pulled back the covers, setting you down carefully before climbing in with you when you tugged his wrist. Your eyes were still closed, the throbbing in your head slowly dissipating though not gone entirely as you snuggled against his chest, letting out a content sigh.

"Bucky?"

"Yes doll"

"I remember"

-

Bucky stirred awake to the sound of a whimper, his brows knitting together into a frown when he felt your body tremble in his hold.

"What is it baby?" Bucky's deep sleep laced voice carried through the darkness as he pulled you closer, soothing your sniffles. "Why are you crying darling, c'mere"

"Y-you didn't give up on me" Your emotions got the best of you, remembering everything from the moment everything went dark, to the panicked voices around you to the way Bucky had stayed by your side through it all, nursing you back to health while his own heart was hurting.

"Never doll, I'd never give up on you" Bucky said sincerely, kissing your forehead while stroking your hair, "How could I when I love you to much"

"But I-I didn't remember you-you still love me?" you whispered, feeling guilty that it had taken you so long to regain you memories and feeling more guilty that you couldn't remember Bucky for so long.

"Y/n, angel, I'd love you no matter what, do you have any idea how badly I wanted to tell you that for these past few weeks? That's all I wanted to do baby, just hold you and tell you how much I adore you-

You couldn't put into words how much love you had for him in that moment, cutting him off with your lips pressed onto his. The kiss grew more needy, hands desperately grabbing each other; you needed Bucky to know just how much you loved him too, feel every bit of what you couldn't say with words.

"Baby, let me- Bucky was ready to take care of you but that wasn't what the night was about. Not after all he'd done for you.

"No" You shook your head, gently pushing Bucky to lay on his back, straddling yourself on top of him, "Let me take care of you for taking care of me" you murmured against his lips before pressing them against his heated skin, tracing your tongue along the column of his neck. "Please Jamie, let me show you"

"D-doll-I-I can-

"Just let me Sergeant, please" You shimmed out of your oversized t-shirt before slipping your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, puling them down, leaving him perfectly bare under you. Bucky wasn't typically a shy person but the way you gazed at him with such love made him blush, his thighs tensing when you settling yourself between them.

"Sweetheart you don't have to-oh-f-fuckkk" His words melted into a deep moan, feeling your lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock, your tongue probing his slit, lapping up every bit of precum that dripped out.

You worshipped his cock with your mouth and tongue, making him feel pleasure like never before, your hand softly rubbing and rolling his balls. You pulled off with a pop just to dip your head lower, nursing on his heavy sack, the slutty, needy moans he was letting out growing louder.

"B-Baby, g'nna cum if you don't stop" His thighs spread apart further for you, back nearly arching off the bed as you licked a thick stripe from his balls to the tip of his cock, crawling back up his body to line your soaking cunt up with his length.

"Please y/n" Bucky blinked at you with glassy, lustful eyes, rutting his hips up to feel more of you, his hands flying to your thighs, needing to touch you.

"Anything for you baby" you cooed, gasping at the feeling of his tip catching against your hole, throwing your head back as you began to sink down on his cock, the both of you moaning together at the feeling of him stretching you open.

You began to grind your hips down on him, your clit rubbing against the curly hair at the base of his cock before slowly picking you pace up, your hands resting on his chest for leverage.

"Feel's so good princess" Bucky's eyes rolled back as you started to bounce up and down, practically squealing each time you slammed yourself back down, obscene squelching noises filling the room.

"You deserve it sergeant" you whimpered, letting Bucky's hands roam your body, grabbing and pinching your nipples, your tight cunt squeezing his cock.

"C'mere baby, c'mere please" Bucky pleaded, pulling you down to his chest and wrapping his arms around you, planting his feet against the bed so he could fuck up into you, "Fuck that's it, mark me up!"

Bucky could feel you nip and suck on his neck hard enough to leave bruises, your words starting to slur as you both got closer and closer to your highs.

"F-fuck I love you!" you cried out, biting down hard on Bucky's shoulder as you started to cum, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust, his pace growing sloppy.

"I-I love you princess, I love you so much-God m'gonna cum-fuck-s'so much for you-HNGG" He clung onto you like his life depended on it, shoving his cock in as deep as it would go, ropes of his warm spend shooting into you.

"I love you so much Jamie" your pussy clenched around his softening cock making him jolt, the both of you panting, pressing light kisses on sweat slicked skin. "Fell in love with you twice Sergeant"

Bucky blushed before throwing you a cocky smirk, still feeling happiness beyond what words could explain having you in his arms again.

"I'll always love you" Bucky whispered before pulling the covers up over both of you once again, staying deep inside you as you started to drift off to sleep, "No matter what"

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Vampire Captures Vampire Hunter to Use as Bloodbag part 8

Warnings: blood drinking, kidnapped human, intimate vampire whump, violence, dominance power move, captive human bloodbag

The next day he came to feed he discovered that Mallory had barely moved at all, groaning the instant he heard the basement door open. He didn't even snap at Alex when he approached, sprawled on the concrete and staring up at the vampire with pained eyes. He looked rather pale, his breathing still a little uneven. How long did it take humans to heal?!

"You know what time it is," Alex said gruffly, crouching down next to his human.

"Can't you just... leave me alone for a little longer?" Mallory whined pitifully with a choked sob. "Everything... h-hurts..." There was a tone of desperation in his voice Alex couldn't understand, different than when he'd been afraid before. He'd only been here for three days, and he was already broken? How boring.

But for some reason, Alex was uneasy, watching the hunter's eyes roll sluggishly in his skull before they slid closed. He grabbed one of the human's hands, using a fang to prick his finger and sample the blood. It was thick like syrup, and a bit more sour than before, unappetizing. Was his human already sick?!

"What's wrong with you?" Alex snapped angrily.

Mallory's eyes cracked open to peer fearfully at him. "You haven't given me anything to eat or drink in three days," he mumbled. "What did you expect, idiot? I'm dying. You can't drain me of blood and then not feed me and expect me to be able to survive without any energy to recover!"

It came to Alex like a slap in the face. Humans had a lot more needs and requirements than vampires. How could he have forgotten? He racked his mind trying to remember what his human life had been like before he was Turned. The memories were all distant and fuzzy.

Scowling, Alex stormed out of the room, pulling out his phone. Surely he could Google 'how to care for a pet human', right? Seemed easy enough. He spent a good few hours searching the internet and educating himself on how to care for a human -- he'd been a vampire so long he'd forgotten that humans were more sensitive to everything including their environment. But there were so many mixed answers, all these things called 'diets' that had different types of food involved. How was he supposed to know what to feed his human and what might kill it faster?! Google sucks.

Frustrated, he eventually realized he knew a friend who had a human lover. (Which, let's be honest, is DISGUSTING. Why would you get in bed with FOOD?)

He hadn't talked with her in over half a century, but she'd always been there when he needed a friend. She'd probably chew his ear off when she discovered he was keeping a human as a pet, but Alex didn't want his new toy to die so soon. So he called her number, bracing himself for the harsh berating he knew was coming.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whump-queen

@floral-comet-whump

[ssaemilyhotchner]

Hi! Congratulations for your 1k followers!

Can I request K for the prompt?

tysm, dear anon!

OTHER 1K DRABBLES | Read on AO3 Join the celebration by requesting a letter!

letter: K | prompt: kindred spirits | wc: 1k | a/n: Set a few weeks post-ep for 9x5, “Route 66,” with Hotch recovering from internal bleeding.

Please do not repost (reblogs welcome) or otherwise claim as your own.

--

He must be dreaming, he thinks, because there is no other explanation for the sight of her at his door. “Emily?”

She answers with a hug that is instantly better than any of the medicine he has taken in the past few weeks. “Hi.”

“Wha–how are you here?”

“Modern aviation is a wonderful thing,” Emily says dryly. He arches an eyebrow and she chuckles, putting her hands up in mock defeat. “Garcia called me.”

Hotch steps aside and waves her in off his doorstep, still incredulous. “So you just…hopped on a flight to see me?”

“Of course,” Emily says, as if it is a given; and perhaps it is, he thinks with a rumbling affection, one that intensifies when he sees the worried look in her wide brown eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Can I get you anything?”

“Tsk. No fussing over me, that’s my job.” Hotch gives her a look which she promptly ignores. “What are you having? I’ll make it myself,” she insists. He grumbles his response, but watches fondly as she opens the right cupboards for a mug and some tea, her muscle memory still serving her well. “What do you mean by ‘better’?”

“I’m getting my strength back. Been sleeping through the night, too.” He nods his chin at the mug in her hands. “Ginger purportedly helps with the inflammation, but the tea is mostly a placebo. A nice one, though.” 

Once the water has been boiled and poured, Emily curls up beside him on the couch and studies him earnestly. “You scared me, you know,” she says eventually, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry.”

Emily shakes her head. “You don’t have to apologize. I just…had to be here and see you.” She brings a trembling hand to his face, smiles softly when his eyes fall closed at her embrace. “Had to feel you.”

At her tenderness, Hotch’s carefully sculpted mask slips; he has always been wont to let her see more than the others. The confession comes out in an exhausted rush, before he can bite the words back. “I’m tired of it, Emily. Tired of him.” 

“I know.” She moves her hand to the base of his neck and scratches the short, coarse hairs there, pleased when he breathes out a sigh. “He takes and takes and takes, even from beyond the grave. It’s not fair.”

Of course. It strikes him then, how intimately Emily understands. His throat tightens at the realization. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” She tilts her head to the side in question and it’s so adorably, familiarly her that his skin blooms with warmth. “Because you know what it’s like.”

Emily trails her hand down from his neck to rest lightly on his chest. “I can’t claim to know what the past few years have felt like for you,” she corrects gently.

“Can’t you?” Stake wounds and brands and knife scars, Hotch wants to argue. Declan and Jack, boys used against their fathers. Haley and Lauren—no, Emily—torn quickly from the world.

Suddenly he’s furious at the thought of all the two of them have endured. All week long, he’d had to keep his anger at bay; there is no place for fury when healing from internal bleeding, nothing productive about cursing a dead man. But now, here on the couch with Emily, this woman he has loved and seen leave too many times, his compartmentalization is shot and his anger metastasizes.

He doesn’t need her humility or her dismissal of her own post-traumatic stress, especially when the trauma in question put her—or rather, a very real part of her—in a coffin he fucking helped carry. He needs her running into battle with him. He needs her fight.

Emily can feel his rage simmering just under the surface, eager for a pressure valve, so she tries another approach.

“You asked me if I came to see you because I know what it’s like. Our ghosts are similar, yes, and a corpse still plays god in some areas of my life.” She shakes her head. “But I’m not here because of that. I’m not here because of me, or because of Doyle or Foyet. I’m here because of you. I’m here because I knew you’d be angry; and I know this not because I’d be angry,” she preempts, “but because I know you.

“I know that you get lonely when you’re angry, and that you think you need a partner in your rage to corroborate your anger and pain, otherwise it feels like it’s selfish and unnecessary. Because you’ve spent your whole life having to be strong for others," Sean and Haley and Jack and the whole team, “compressing your emotions to fit others’ palatability.” Emily hunches to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to do that with me, Aaron. Your anger is valid whether or not it fits my or someone else’s blueprint. You can just be angry. Name it. Feel it.”

Hotch looks at her for a long while, equal parts disconcerted and incredulous. She had always been able to cut right to the core of him, unman him with ease.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he says after a weighty silence. “I don’t know how to feel it without also letting it become another scar on my chest.” He pushes his shirt up off of his lower abdomen, where thin white scars criss-cross his body. Then, slowly, giving her the chance to object, he pulls the neck of her sweater down to reveal the brand above her breast. “You and I have enough of those. We don’t need another.” 

“We make quite the pair, don’t we?” she asks, her voice soft. Then a wry smile tugs at her lips. “A wise man once said, ‘Scars remind us where we’ve been. They don't have to dictate where we're going.’”

“…We’re having a moment and you quote David Rossi at me?”

She snorts. “He’d be thrilled.”

That wins her a genuine laugh, lines still crinkling around his eyes when he sobers a few beats later. “I mean it, Emily. I don’t know how to do it,” Hotch repeats. “But I’m willing to try.”

Just scared, Hotch wants to add. And scared to admit even that. 

As always, Emily seems to see right through him, because she takes his hands in hers and gives them a squeeze. “I know. But,” she says gently, and suddenly they’re brought back four years to a conversation in his old apartment, yearning simmering between them even then. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

[leaperfr0g]

Skyward Sword!!!

Post Skyward Sword designs!!! (Click for better quality!)

I love these two love birbs sm it hurts <3 (Btw Idk/ can't remember their ages from the game so I say that Link and Zelda were 17 when this all first happened and are now 19!)

(Lore dump under the cut for those who want to know what I think happened after the end!!)

Zelda,

After Demise rips Hylia's/Zelda's soul out of her body and absorbes it, Link defeats him and Hylia's/Zelda's soul returns to her body while she's resting in Hylia's Temple. But before it's fully absorbed back the soul begins to glow bright white, when the light finally fades the soul is seen to be split in two. Half of her soul is returned to Zelda and the other half disapears in a blazing golden-white light, Fi informs Zelda and Link that the other half of Hylia's soul had returned to the edge of time and rematerialized into a slowly recovering Hylia. Though it would take many centuries before Hylia would truly have the strength to continue to watch over the Surface.(Hyrule has still not been a thought yet)

Afterwards the normal after credits scene of the two of them by the fallen Great Goddess Statue from Skyloft would still happen.(Zelda tells link she wants to stay on the surface because she's grown to love being there and loves the people she's met. She asks Link"So, what are you going to do then Link"?) Link tells Zelda he want to stay by her side and journey the land with her, she smiles and together the two fly off on there loft wings since the cloud barrier was gone now.

The two would spend the next few weeks traveling around the surface exploring all there was to see, together the two would grow closer than they had ever been before.(They finally relise there feelings <3) Eventually the two of them return to Skyloft to the delight of everyone else wanting to hear about there adventures.

Together the two of them finish there training at the Knights Academy and afterwards they both lead the first true expeditions to the surface. Over the next couple of years the two of them would form the Surface Exploration Team (SET) that journeys and maps out the surface. (Link also help cut her hair, but she kept the front long to braid it like Impa's since she wanted to keep her memories with her close)

Link,

During his Adventure to find and save Zelda, aswell as defeat Demise, he didn't come out unscathed. In his first fight with Girahim one of his magical rhombuses managed to gash his cheek before he could dodge. In his final battle with Demise he just barley managed to dodge a strike of lighting but he couldn't escape the huge ring of electricity that came from the water, causing his face to be electrocuted and the veins is his face to burn.

Afterwards Zelda tended to his wounds and over their journey across the surface together he healed. As time passed his hair grew out and he didn't feel bothered enough to cut it. When he finished his training at the Knights Academy he received a thicker tunic to protect himself from the harsh winds.

He continues to stay by Zelda's side as her lover and together the two of them formed the SET (Surface Exploration Team) they lead the knights and researchers who want to explore the surface and map out it's vast land.

[callsign-magnolia]

Imperial // Ch. 5

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

Synopsis: Tatiana Alexeyevna discovered she was a princess when she was seventeen, a young age for a girl to receive such shocking news. She's done well at learning how to be a royal, and after meeting Bradley she considers that she really could find true love while taking the throne.

Warning: Angst, cursing, smut (eventual)

Word Count: 6.8k

Chapter 4 | Masterlist

I groaned as I shifted in the bed, attempting to roll onto my back but I cried out as I did. “Princess.” A hushed voice whispered as hands settled on my shoulders to keep me lying on my stomach. My eyes opened to see Sophie with a kind smile on her face. “Soph?” She giggled, tears falling from her eyes. “What happened?” She smiled, pulling her chair closer before sitting in it. “A bomb went off and it threw you to the ground. You have third degree burns on your back and second degree burns on the back of your legs. You had to have a few wounds on your back closed, as well as stitches in your forehead. The doctor said you will likely have scarring as well.” I nodded, a few tears slipping out. “How’s my grandmother?” She nodded. “She’s inconsolable and she calls your room hourly for updates.” I nodded, closing my eyes when suddenly images of a little red head flew through my mind. “Anastasia!” I yelled, jumping up and Sophie grabbed me again. “She’s in the Pediatric ICU. Since her parents are deceased, I have been getting updates on her. She had some third degree burns on her little legs, but her doctors say she should be okay.” I sighed in relief, laying back down.

“Can you get the doctor for me?” She nodded, walking out. I knew I was in a hospital instead of the palace infirmary. “Your majesty.” The doctor said as he came around to the side of the bed so I could see him, giving a deep bow. “I am doctor Babanin. How are you feeling?” I groaned a little. “My back hurts, a lot and I feel sore from laying on my stomach.” He nodded. “Well, I’m sorry your majesty. You’ll have to keep laying like this. You have third degree burns on your back. We’ve already performed surgery to remove the dead skin and close a few wounds. We have been giving you intravenous fluids to help with your blood pressure and you sustained a concussion as well.” I nodded slightly. “When can I go home?” He flipped through his chart, reading over some stuff before sighing. “You’ve been burned on thirty-six percent of your body. We keep people for one day per one percent. So, I’m estimating thirty-six days.”

“THIRTY-SIX DAYS?!” I yelled, attempting to push myself up. “That’s unacceptable! My Babushka, your queen is still recovering from her gunshot wound! Someone must run the country and that someone is me!” Doctor Babanin stopped me, grabbing my arms to avoid touching my wound. “It is an estimation, your majesty. You could be out sooner.” I shook my head as tears gathered in my eyes. “This can’t be happening. We’ve just gone to war and I’m here in the hospital and so is my grandmother! Who will run the country?” I cried as doctor Babanin backed away and Sophie came over. “Your majesty, you must take deep breaths.” She tried to console me as I cried. What were we to do? We couldn’t just leave the country without a leader. But soon, she calmed me down and I could breathe normally. “We will figure out a plan, your majesty. I have already been in touch with her majesty and her team.” I nodded, exhaustion taking over my body. “I recommend some sleep; some rest will help your healing and allow you to think more clearly.” I knew he was right, so I agreed. “Okay.” I looked to Sophie. “Will you call Babushka for me? Tell her I’m okay?” She nodded, grabbing her phone and stepping out. I reached to the table next to my bed, grabbing my phone. I had a few texts, mostly from my mother and a voicemail from Bradley.

I rushed to listen to it, tears filling my eyes as he cried. I forgot he was there; my memories are fuzzy but now I remember him in his dress white’s, handsome as ever. I remembered he gave me a picture, the one of us on that picnic. “You have to be okay.” His words echoed through my mind and before I knew it, I was calling him. I stretched, hissing slightly as the skin on my legs pulled. It kept ringing and I thought it would go to voicemail before I heard a click. It was silent for a moment and just before I spoke up, he asked. “Tatiana?” His voice was hoarse, as if he’s been crying. “Hi Bradley.” It was a whisper, as if I didn’t want anyone to know I was speaking to him. I heard him inhale quickly at my voice, as if he was fighting back tears. “Thank God. You’re okay?” I sighed, letting my head fall onto the pillow. “I’ll be okay.” He sighed. “The past two days have been agonizing, did the doctor say what your injuries were?” I furrowed my brows. “I’ve been out for two days?” He hummed. Two days, really? “Yeah.” He said solemnly. “Um, I have third degree burns on thirty-six percent of my body.” I said as tears welled in my eyes.

“God, baby.” He sniffled as I started crying, the affectionate nickname making me miss him more. “I wish I could be there for you.” I sighed, slowing the stream of tears. “You’re deployed, I understand. I had a surgery to remove the peeling skin and close a few wounds. They also closed the wound on my forehead and they’re giving me intravenous fluids to keep my blood pressure stable.” I heard him sob and my heart broke slightly. “You’ve been that worried about me?” “You’re all I’ve been thinking about since that night.” I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face. “Thank you, for worrying.” I muttered, drawing patterns in the sheets. “I also want to apologize for that last night at your house. I swear I was going to tell you. You just… made me feel normal, and I haven’t felt that way in years.” I had tears falling down my face, regretting how he found out.

“You made me so happy, and I hadn’t felt joy like that since I found out who I actually was.” I heard him chuckle on the other end, making me furrow my brows. “Why are you laughing?” he laughed a little harder. “You must have hit your head harder than I thought. Do you remember what I said when we first bumped into each other?” I shook my head, trying to think back to when we ran into each other. “I told you I forgive you, Tatiana.” My eyebrows raised in realization, remembering the full conversation. “You still care?” I asked. “Of course, Tatiana.” Then I suddenly remembered the picture he gave me, making me gasp loudly. “What? What’s wrong?” “Sophie!” I yelled and she rushed in. “Where’s my dress?” She furrowed her brows in confusion. “I’m sorry, Princess. We threw it away because it was burnt.” More tears welled in my eyes as my chest started heaving. “There was a picture Bradley gave me.” Her face lit up and she rushed over, sliding a book over and pulling the picture from under it. “It was bent around the edges, so I put the book on it to flatten it back out.” I sighed in relief, looking at the picture. “Tatiana? Are you okay?” Bradley asked and I laughed. “Yeah, I thought the picture you gave me was thrown away. But it’s okay.” He chuckled as a smile grew on my face.

“Well, I’m glad you’re safe. How are things there now?” I sighed, looking up at Sophie. “I don’t know yet. But our first group of trainees were deployed… yesterday, I think. I’ll have to get updated on the state of the nation and then we must figure out who is going to run the country in the meantime.” I was stressing over it, not knowing what to do. “Whatever you do, I know you’ll do a great job.” I smiled hearing his encouragement. “Can I keep talking to you? It would just be nice to talk to someone who isn’t involved with the royal family or politics.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I’d like that. We’re going to be docked in Japan for a while, so I’ll have service, and if we leave, I’ll text you.” I smiled as I relaxed a little more. “Thank you, Bradley. For everything.” I could hear him chuckle on the other end. “You’re welcome, Tatiana.” We said our goodbyes and I set my phone down on the table next to the bed.

I looked up to see Sophie with her lips turned up in a grin. “You two should’ve just gotten married.” I laughed loudly at her statement. “We made it three months before it blew up in my face! Plus, if I had gotten married that soon or in America, Babushka would’ve died.” Her eyebrows raised in agreement as she sat in her chair. She stared at me as I rested my cheek on the pillow. “You love him.” Her statement took me by surprise. Towards the end, I started to wonder. I cared for him deeply, that I knew. But did I love him? He made me feel things I never had before. He gave me butterflies when he just looked at me, he made my heart swell with his kind gestures and not just for me but for others. Like when he gave me his mother’s necklace. Which I still had on; I hadn’t taken it off since he gave it to me. I probably should’ve given it back, but he sent me away so quickly and I didn’t get a chance to when I saw him in Kugrad.

Is that what love is? Those feelings? “You’re thinking about it too much.” My eyes snapped to her as she sat perched in the chair. “Princess, if I may speak freely. You and Bradley, I have only seen you two together only a few times. But, there is something there, something between you two. He says he still cares?” I nodded at her question, tucking my arms under my pillow. “That means you mean something to him. I think you mean a lot to him, maybe even everything. If you still care too, don’t let this be the end.” I smiled at her, nodding. “I’ll start working on it as soon as I’m out of here.” She giggled, nodding at me. “Now, can I get something for the pain? My back is starting to throb.” She chuckled, standing to go get the doctor.

I was released after twenty days. I was healing faster than expected so I was sent back to the palace. I would have to stay in the infirmary and a burn doctor would visit daily to take care of me. But I was released to do light work. Basically, sit at my desk for a few hours each day and do work. “They let you out? That’s great.” Bradley said over the phone. I was currently on a train headed back to the Royal City. It hurt to lean back so I took to standing. “Yeah, my only problem is it still hurts for my back to touch anything so I will have to stand for the rest of this train ride. Or at least lean forward in my seat. But that tugs on my skin and hurts too.” I sighed. I kicked off my shoes a while ago, opting to go barefoot throughout the train car so my feet wouldn’t tire as quickly. “I’m sorry, baby. I wish this never happened.” I nodded and leaned forward onto the bar. “Me too. But we can’t change the past, only learn from it.” It went quiet on his end, which worried me. “Yeah, can’t change the past.” He muttered. My hand drifted to my collar bones, feeling the pearl necklace he gifted me. “Princess.” Marcus said and I looked at him. He tapped his watch, telling me we were close. “Almost home. So, that means I must get ready to face the crowd.”

“Is that bad?” I shrugged. “Depends on how the country views what happened. I’ll either be deemed a hero for grabbing Anastasia or a fool for even being there in the first place.” He hummed. “Well, can I talk to you tomorrow?” I smiled, pulling my bottom lip into my mouth. “Of course, Bradley.” It was quiet for a moment as my grin grew wider. “Goodbye, Tatiana.” “Goodbye, Bradley.” We hung up and I slid my shoes back on. “The doctor is meeting us at the palace to go over your treatment plan. Which includes your physical therapy.” I nodded, watching as the city started to fly by. “The people are happy that you are okay and coming home.” I nodded, sighing. “Doesn’t mean they won’t think I’m stupid for being in the middle of it all.” He nodded. “If I may. No royal, no king nor queen has ever done what you did. You went to boost morale, see what your people were going through. And when danger came knocking you never turned away, you ran headfirst into the chaos. These people are proud to call you their princess.” Tears welled in my eyes at his words. “You mean it? You don’t think I’m stupid?” He shook his head. “No Krasivayen Royal has ever shown the courage and bravery you did. Not even your grandmother.” As he finished, we pulled into the station. “Now, come greet your people.” We all stood, Marcus leading me off the train and through the station. It was closed off for my protection but as soon as we stepped outside, I was blinded by the sun and deafened by the screaming.

People stood against the barriers, holding their hands out, waving small versions of the nation's flag. It brought tears to my eyes, that in times like this, people still had faith in my family and our nation. I slowly walked down the steps, smiling and waving. “Hi!” I greeted a little girl and her father. “We’re so happy you are safe, princess.” I smiled and thanked him, taking the small bouquet of flowers from his daughter. Many people had flowers and by the time I made it to the car they were overflowing in my arms. I gave one last wave before getting in the car, allowing Marcus to close my door and get into the passenger seat. “Marcus? May I roll down my window?” I asked, meeting his eye in the rearview mirror. He simply smiled and nodded, and just as we pulled away, I rolled my window down. People lined the streets the entire way to the palace, it was an overwhelming sense of love that had me crying in the backseat.

My arms felt like they were going to fall off by the time we reached the palace gates. I’m sure my face was smudged with mascara as I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I told you they were proud.” Marcus said, turning to me with a smile. I gave him a teary smile of my own before we finally pulled up to the palace. I stepped out, guards leading me inside as I stood straight so as to not pull on my back. Once inside I saw my grandmother pacing, she had to stay here for her own safety, so we haven’t seen each other since the day I left for Kugrad. “Privyet, moye serdtse!” ‘Hello, my heart!’ My heart being a nickname she reserved only for me. She yelled it, rushing over and pulling me into her arms. She was careful of my back but her gentle touch alone made my back burn. “You’re okay! Thank god!” She yelled, kissing my forehead. Everyone walked away, giving us some space. “I’ve heard so many different stories. Tell me what happened.” She said, taking my hand and leading me to sit in some chairs. Once we sat, I spilled everything. “He was there?!” My grandmother asked and I nodded. “He was rushing towards me just as the bomb went off.”

She stared at me, her lips tight in silence. “I wish to meet this man.” She said, standing. “Well, Babushka. He is currently on deployment, but once he is home, I’ll happily arrange a meeting.” She smiled at me. “How were our people? Before the air raid?” I sighed. “Struggling, Babushka. They need more blankets and food. Sophie’s grandmother is part of a few groups I want to commission to make blankets for the refugees. I also asked a local bakery owner, Nadia Kolishk, if we paid her, if she could give bread to the camp. But I’m sure her shop is now gone.” Babushka nodded. “What else?” I raised a brow at her question. “You have more ideas, tell them to me.” I sighed. “I want to ask the country to ration. Two meals a day for now, including us. We can also save a lot of money here in the palace alone.” I turned to her, to see if she would stop me but she motioned me to continue.

“We currently use central heat. We can cut our electricity usage down if we use the fireplaces again.” She nodded, listening intently. “We have many throughout the palace, we use the central heat less and use the fireplaces more. Common areas and offices throughout the day, bedrooms and suites at night.” She nodded. “I’m still trying to think of other ways to cut back on our power use, but the only other thing that comes to mind is making sure we keep off lights when no one is in the room.” She smiled, standing and taking my hands. “Those are wonderful places to start. Now, you’re thinking like a queen.” She said as she cradled my face. “How do we announce this?” I asked and she smiled. “We will broadcast it across the country, on television and the radio. They need to see us as a strong, united front, and that’s what we will give them.” I smiled and nodded as she pulled me into another hug, my back stinging from her touch. “I was so worried about you, moye serdtse.” I hugged her tightly, squeezing my eyes shut. Her perfume invaded my senses, comforting me. “I’m so happy to have you home.” Tears welled in my eyes, the comfort of her embrace making me emotional. “Are you okay?” I shook my head, burying my face in her shoulder. “No.” I croaked. She held me gently as I sobbed into her shoulder. All my emotions and fears, finally flowing out of me.

A few days later, after my physical therapy session, my mother called. “Oh it is so good to hear your voice darling.” My mother said, worry lacing her tone. “I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner, mama.” I could practically see her shaking her head. “Nonsense. You’re learning to run a country. You don’t have time to call me all day every day.” I know she wasn’t trying to guilt me, but I felt it weighing on my chest. “Well I want to make more time. How about, when I get an opportunity to come back to San Diego we spend a few days together?” I asked and she laughed. “I’d love too, darling.” There was a knock on my office door and I looked over, seeing Sophie stick her head through the doorway. “Princess? We have twenty minutes till your broadcast.” I nodded and she closed the door. “I have to go mama. Babushka and I have a broadcast in twenty minutes.” I said and she sighed. “Okay, darling. Call me when you have a spare minute?” I nodded. “I will mama. I love you.” I said, a few tears gathering in my eyes. “I love you too, darling.” With that we said goodbye and I walked down the hall to the drawing room. “Hello, moye serdtse.” She said, pulling me into a hug. She wore a cream colored skirt suit, a floral shirt beneath it. I wore one similar but mine was gold floral with a white background. “Ready?” I nodded. “How do you think the country is going to handle the requests?” She scoffed. “It’s not the country you have to worry about, it’s the nobles.” She had a point. Many of the noble families had very… pretentious thoughts about themselves. They thought themselves better than everyone, but no one was worse than my uncle on my grandfather's side of the family. The Volkov’s. But the worst of them was my cousin Artem, I had only met him a handful of times but he looked down on me every time, and it wasn’t just because he was six feet tall, a whole six inches taller than me. “Ready your highness?” A voice broke me from my thoughts and I nodded, sitting next to my grandmother in the plush felt chairs. 

The announcement went great. All over social media people are talking about how they’re willing to go along with our plan to ration and save energy for this war, but of course the higher class is not happy. The phones in the royal communications office have been ringing off the hook and Artem’s father Mikhail seemed to be the most angry and called my grandmother directly. I walked into her office with a few reports that showed the nation's response to our announcement when I heard her on the phone. “You may be related to my husband but you will have care in how you speak to me.” I furrowed my brows in confusion as I listened to her conversation. “I’m sorry Mikhail, but I have a nation to run. Good day.” She said, ending the call and my eyebrows shot up. “Your uncle cares for no one but himself.” She said as I handed her the reports. “Called to complain about the announcement?” I asked and she nodded. “God forbid he eats less than five times a day and has to give up any luxuries.” She said and I bit back a laugh. “Princesses don’t laugh at others, dear.” She said and I cleared my throat, folding my hands behind my back. “Except in this case.” She said before laughing herself and I couldn’t help but join in.

Two months went by and the war only got worse and moved farther inland. We had a winter palace out west and with the number of injured or dead we had are rising rapidly so I made the decision with my grandmother to use the palace as one large field hospital. Doctors from everywhere flocked to the grand building to help as well as nurses. “I’m going.” I said as I burst into my grandmother’s office. She looked at me with wide eyes as she spoke with Marcus. “Go? Go where?” She asked. “The western palace.” “Absolutely not!” She said, standing from her seat. “I can’t just sit here anymore! I’m going crazy! I’m tired of sitting and planning! I want to do something! I want to be hands on! I have no field experience but I can get supplies for these doctors, I can help move patients! There are so many ways that I could be helping and I’m not doing them!” I said and she sighed. “It’s too close to the front lines and we would have to spare security.” She said and I looked at Marcus. “I would like to volunteer myself to go with her.” He said, looking at my grandmother. “Marcus.” She challenged. Most people would back down immediately. But Marcus has worked for my grandmother since before I was born and he knew that it would take a hell of a lot more than this for him to be at risk of receiving her wrath. “Your majesty. With all due respect, princess Tatiana is itching to help the people and this is a great way to do it. Maybe even get some publicity which could mean more support from other countries.” He said and she sighed. “What about your physical therapy?” She asked.

“I know my exercises and I’ll do them by myself every day.” I said and she pursed her lips. “I don’t know. You’re still sleeping in the infirmary.” I was still sleeping in the infirmary. I was sleeping directly across from my grandmother for a few weeks until she was allowed to sleep in her own suite again. “I’ll already be in a hospital. It’s probably the best place for me to be.” Everything would be fine, but I couldn’t take a bed from someone who needed it more than me. She sighed and sat back down, sliding her glasses back on to her face. “Okay. But you come back once a month for a checkup from your burn doctor.” I nodded enthusiastically and rushed over to hug her. “Spasibo, Babushka.” I knew saying ‘Thank you, Grandmother’ in Russian would butter her up even more. She hummed but turned and kissed my cheek. “I am so proud of you.” She said and I grinned at her. The next day me, Marcus and a few other security agents were on a train headed for Kovrovgrad. Once we arrived they tried to give me a private room which I refused and they put me in a room with three other nurses. They were all so kind and helped me to quickly learn the ropes and each day I was to be with them on their rounds. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but I was more than ready for it. 

~~~

The team had a rare off day on land which we were taking full advantage of. “What are you doing?” Phoenix asked as she sat next to me on the old worn couch. We were docked on base in Australia for the week and we had some downtime so I was sat in the rec room on base watching the tv. “You seem bored.” I scoffed at her words. “I am.” Service in Krasivayet Gurachu has been shitty at best since the war moved closer inland. I haven’t heard from Tatiana in days. No call, no text, not even an email. I’ve considered writing her a physical letter, but I wouldn’t even know where to send it. I couldn’t just send it to the palace, they’d never accept it. I’ll have to ask her about an address the next time I talk to her. “Have you heard about this war?” Phoenix asked and I looked at her confused. She pointed up at the tv and I turned towards it. They were covering the war in Krasivayet Gurachu. “I had never even heard of this country before this.” She said and I sighed. 

“Now to Tara who is covering the war in Krasivayet Gurachu.” The scene changed on the tv to a woman standing in front of a metal fence. “Thanks Adam. I’m standing here in front of the West Palace here, which is about twenty miles from the front lines. This palace behind me has been turned into a military field hospital. Before this the nearest hospital was a hundred miles behind this one. We’ve spoken to many nurses and doctors who are saying that without this, the number of  casualties would be much higher. The princess was the first one to make this suggestion and is in fact here herself offering aid to doctors and nurses.” My eyebrows shot up, I had no idea she was out there. She’s still healing herself. Sirens could be heard through the tv and the camera turned to catch an ambulance driving in at full speed. “There she is!” A voice yelled and it seemed like people rushed the fence. “As you can see, Princess Tatiana is hard at work with all the other nurses.” I could see her clearly. She was in blue scrubs, hair pulled back with a thick headband on. She grabbed the gurney, rushing inside with everyone else. “The government is doing all they can for their people. But with the war moving farther inland, resources are starting to diminish. There are multiple organizations you can donate too, including the Red Cross. I’m Tara Halstead.” With that it went back to the studio. 

“Damn. It’s getting bad I guess.” Phoenix said and I nodded. “It has been ever since we were docked there.” I replied. “I doubt she’s doing any actual work. She probably rushed outside for the cameras.” Hangman said from behind us. We turned around to look at him and before I could open my mouth and say anything I was cut off by Phoenix. “You’re only saying that because that’s what you would do if you were in her position. All over social media they are talking about all the things she’s done for her country, and it’s more than you can or would do for yours.” Phoenix snapped before standing and storming off. “Damn, why is she so mad about it?” He asked and I shrugged because I genuinely didn’t know. “Maybe because you’re just an ass Hangman?” I asked and he scowled at me before I gave him a grin, standing and leaving. 

~~~

“When will you be back?” Grace, one of the nurses I’ve been bunking with asked. “Two days from now.” I said and she nodded. I’ve been here three months, doing what I can to help everyone here in the hospital. This will be my third time returning home to get treatment for my burns and hopefully my last. I’m basically all healed at this point, I just need my doctor to tell me I’m all clear. “Well, we’ll miss you, like always when you’re gone.” She said and I chuckled. “And I will miss you as well.” I replied to her as I zipped up my bag. “You’re majesty.” Marcus said from our doorway. “Well it’s time for me to leave.” I said, hiking my bag over my shoulder and turned for the door. “And my candy better still be under my bed when I get back.” I said and Grace laughed loudly. I knew she’d take it if she had the chance. “Thank you, Marcus.” I said as he took my bag from me. “You’re welcome, princess.” He said and I followed him until he took a wrong turn. “Where are we going, Marcus? The front doors are that way.” I said, pointing behind me. “There has been an increase in crowds outside the gate, hoping to catch a glimpse of the ‘working princess’, it’ll be safer to go out the back.” He said as he rested his hand on my upper back and guided me to the back entrance. 

I slept for most of the car and train ride. Just like everyone else, I don’t get solid sleep at the hospital, waking up about every four hours during the night to tend to patient’s. But I was relieved to pull up to the rounded front steps of the palace. “Happy to be home?” Maria asked, greeting me at the door to take my coat. “Very.” I replied and smiled at her. “Where’s Babushka?” I asked and she nodded her head up the stairs. “In her office.” She said, “Do I have time to see her before my appointment?” I asked and she looked at a clock. “If you hurry. You have thirty minutes.” She said and I nodded, immediately making my way down the hall to the first set of stairs. This palace was like a maze and it’s so easy to get lost and while I have learned to navigate most of it, I do still get turned around from time to time. I smiled at any staff I passed, including guards that I knew were planted around the palace so I had a constant eye on me. As I made it to my grandmother’s office, I gave a gentle knock to the dark mahogany wood and got an immediate response. “Come in.” I opened the door slowly and peeked my head in. “Hi.” I said and she smiled at me. “Oh, moye serdtse. Come in!” I stepped through the door, closing it behind me and walked over to her desk. She stood, opening her arms for a hug. “How have you been?” She asked, sitting back down and I continued standing. “Tired, but busy. I’m just grateful that I can help people.” I said and she nodded, smiling at me. “How is everything going here?” I asked and she sighed. “We’re holding steady, but we’ve been getting information of another potential attack and we can’t pinpoint where.” I sighed, resting my hand on her shoulder. “It will be okay, Babushka.” She smiled up at me and patted my hand that rested on her shoulder. “It will be. Now go, you must see your doctor.” I just smiled and nodded, bidding her goodbye before I walked towards the infirmary.

The doctor gave me the all clear, which meant for the first time in a long time, I can sleep in my suite, in my own bed! I was so excited when he told me, I was buzzing for the rest of the day. I did anything I could to keep myself busy. But finally once we were done with dinner I all but sprinted up to my suite. “Maria!” I called as the guards opened the doors. “I just turned on the shower and your night clothes are set up for you as well.” She said and I smiled at her. “You’re amazing.” I said and she smiled at me. “I know.” I just laughed before I rushed to my bathroom. Once my shower was done I walked out, dressed in my pajamas and my hair up in a towel. “Oh my god, it feels so good to be back!” I said, launching myself onto my bed face first. Maria laughed, coming over and urging me off the bed. “I can tell. How about you dry your hair while I turn down your bed.” She said and I nodded. “I guess I can do that.” I said in a teasing town and she laughed as I walked back into the bathroom. 

When I was finally done, I was tired and ready to crawl under my thick covers and drift off to sleep. Maria smiled as I slid into the bed and she set some water on my bedside table. “So what are you going to do now?” I asked her. “Well, Mama made a cake so I’m going to join her and we’re just going to spend time together.” She said and I smiled at her. “Well good, have fun.” She nodded and started walking out when I stopped her. “Maria?” I asked and she turned to me. “When we go back to San Diego, don’t let me forget to spend some time with my mama.” SHe just giggled and nodded. “I won’t. Goodnight, your majesty.” She said, giving a bow, cutting the lights off and leaving. While I was happy to be back in my big plush bed, I can’t help but think of Grace and the other nurses. Just like most other people in the country, they won’t be sleeping well tonight. I thought about how lucky I was to have such a safe and warm bed and how others didn’t but sadly, I can’t do anything about it right now. So the best thing to do is to get some sleep. I can’t help anyone with a foggy brain. 

I screamed as a hand landed on my shoulder and I sat up quickly. “Tatiana.” I was breathing heavily as I realized it was my grandmother in front of me. “Babushka?” I asked. “What are you doing here at,” I grabbed my phone, looking at the time. “Two a.m.?” I asked. “There has been an attack.” She said and my mind conjured up so many horrors. “Where?” I asked. “The field hospital.” I was stunned for a moment, taking a minute to absorb what she just told me. “Wh-what?” I asked, standing from my bed. “Belevodskian military stormed the hospital. They were looking for you.” She said and I sighed. “What happened?” I asked and she sighed, guiding me to sit back down on the bed. “They stormed the palace and killed all the wounded.” My heart stopped. “And they captured and killed many doctors and nurses.” My mind flashed to Grace and the other girls. “D-do we know who is dead?” I asked and she shook her head. “No. We don’t and it may be a long time before we know.” She said and soon Marcus came in. “The jet is ready.” Marcus said and I furrowed my brows at him. “Why is the jet ready?” I asked. “They are looking for you.” She said and my eyebrows flew up. “Me? Why would they be looking for me?” I asked. “King Stephan’s youngest son, Dmitri, has always wanted power and his father feels he should have it. I don’t know what they want with you, but I know it is not good. So I think it would be safer in San Diego.” She said and fear crept into my chest, almost suffocating me. 

“O-okay. Do I have time to change?” I asked and she nodded. I quickly jumped up, rushing into my closet. I slipped into some light wash jeans and the UVA shirt I had on when I left Bradleys house. I grabbed a coat and slid on some shoes before grabbing things like my purse and phone. I rushed out of the room to see Marcus outside of my door. “I thought you would have been against leaving.” He said and I sighed. “I don’t want to but I’m no use to anyone or this war if I’m dead or held captive.” I said as he led me down some stairs, another guard behind me. We approached the front doors and I saw my grandmother standing there, still in her pajamas and robe. “Why aren’t you dressed?” I asked and she took my hands. “Moye serdtse, I am not going with you.” She said and immediately tears welled in my eyes. “What? I thought we were leaving together.” I said and she shook her head. “I can’t leave. Someone has to stay here and that someone is me.” She said and I scoffed. “No, it doesn’t. If you’re not leaving then neither am I.” I said and she gave me a sad smile. “My dear, you are the only heir to the throne. I am but an old woman and you are so young. When I am gone, the country will need you.” She said and I choked on a sob. “I’m not ready. I can’t do this without you.” I said as I cried. “I know. But you will have to and you won’t be alone.” She said, giving my hands one last squeeze. “I’m not leaving without you. I refuse to.” I said and she sighed, leaning forward and kissing my cheek. She pulled away and shocked me with her words. “Remove her.” I furrowed my brows in confusion when I was suddenly grabbed. “No!” I screamed and kicked before being tossed over a shoulder. Whoever had me made their way for the door as Marcus followed us. “NO! You can’t do this to me! I command you to let me go!” I said as Marcus opened the doors. “You are a princess and she is the queen. Her commands outrank yours.” He said and I watched as my grandmother turned away from me, Charlotte resting her hand on her shoulder as they shook with her cries. I fought against the guards all the way to the car before I was basically tossed into one. “Marcus!” I yelled as he got in next to me. I turned for the other door, attempting to open it when I realized the child lock was on. “Let me out! They’ll kill her if they make it to the castle!” I said and he sat still. “The queen is well aware of that.” He said and more tears fell down my cheeks. “Marcus, please.” I begged and he looked at me. I could tell there were many emotions behind his brown eyes. Fear, anger, regret. “I’m sorry princess, but the queen has given me strict orders to get you out of the country safely and keep you out until this war is over.” He said and I choked on a sob. “And what happens if it doesn’t end? Or Belevodsk wins?” I asked and he sighed, staring out the window for a moment. “Then take it all in, your majesty. This could be the last time you see Kraivayet Gurachu.”

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

Taglist: @artemissunn @fanboyswhore9 @amortentiadrops @kmc1989 @halstead-severide-fan

[the-ultimate-puppeteer]

Hello, can i ask for a au scenario where boudica is with a gn reader who used to be a first responder but quit because of a terrible event and now suffers from ptsd, and boudica is trying to make the reader recover from their ptsd after learning about the reader having ptsd?

Boudica with an S/O that has PTSD from being a first responder

•Let's start from the beginning you were a first responder, you always dreamed of being one, because you loved helping people

•Hell it was one of the reasons you learned magecraft in the first place so you could help people and it came in useful

•Thankfully you were skilled enough that you could alter people's memories so you didn't get caught or seen as suspicious

•Unfortunately, all dreams must eventually come to an end

•You had arrived on a scene of what was basically a massive gang war that had broken out

•You’d tried your best to save civilians who had been Injured or caught up in the violence and you tried to protect your fellow responders

•But even with all the skills you had learned all the spells you had used it all turned out to be useless in that event

•The people you were supposed to protect and the comrades you had gotten to know they all had been killed leaving you as the sole survivor of the event before backup had come to suppress the incident

•You ended up resigning after that incident you didn't feel like you were worthy to still work as a first responder after that and enter back into the world of mages afterwards

•That's actually how you ended up meeting boudica, you had ended up as a master at Chaldea and thanks to the healing mage craft you had perfected survived the bombing that had Injured so many masters.

•You would eventually grow close with Boudica and fall in love with her and even enter into a relationship after she had confessed her love to you

•Eventually though she'd have to find out about your past the hard way through having to see you experience a severe flashback to that horrible day

•Seeing like that caused her to panic and she tried her best to get you to snap out of it, she hated seeing you like this to see you so scared, to see you trembling and crying begging those around you not to die

•That was the state you'd seen her in after you had gotten your hearing from remember that day. And you knew you have to explain to her what had happened.

•Boudica after calming down from witnessing your episode listened to you calmly and afterwards gave you a living hug

•Telling you even though you may not believe it, but none of what happened was your fault

•That you had done the best that you could have done in that situation and even though you had the skills that you had hammered into your body that there are going to be times where it's impossible to save everyone

•Hearing those words from her touched your heart and while it may not have been enough to help you fully recover from the PTSD given to you by that horrible day.

•It was enough for you to finally to begin to heal from that awful day, and while it may never go away completely at least you'll at least have Boudica at your side to help you along.

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

BuckTommyWhumpWeek, Day 4 Chronic pain

All the Pain, Chapter 4 | Read on AO3 | In this chapter (CW): Buck is pondering his chronic pain (and yes, he's still under the rubble) | @bucktommywhumpweek

(-> Chapter 1) (-> Chapter 2) (-> Chapter 3)

In the weeks following the incident with the fire engine that crushed his leg, Buck had a lot of time to think. They were rarely nice thoughts. There was a violent fear in him, which was always mixed with anger, mostly anger about this twisted destiny. He didn't deserve any of this pain and struggle, and he hadn't signed up for any of it when he decided to take this job.

Except he had, somehow.

Pain was an immediate part of it all. Buck had learned that the hard way, by caring too much and by being too reckless. But there was a huge difference between a few scratches or mild smoke inhalation and... this.

He spent many days on the couch, it being the center of his life for weeks because he could hardly get up to make the unnecessary effort to climb the stairs to his bed. So he would sit there when he came home from physical therapy, aching and exhausted; his head too hyper to sleep and his leg too flamed up to give rest. Nobody told you about the less exciting parts of the job, the real strains. About what happened afterwards, after the hospital, where the nurses praised you as a hero and you were told that you had a good chance to fully recover because you were young and strong.

But it still was only a chance, not a guarantee.

And even if the pain was never again as strong as it was during those few minutes under the truck (or under a pile of stone that used to be a roof), it was always there, and it was hard. Some days he just sat there, massaging his thigh just above the cast, thinking about what would happen to him if it didn't all turn out well.

Maddie cut him off every time he brought up the subject, “Evan,” she said sternly, “it has already ended well, because you’re still alive.”

That was true, and the witness to this was the pain, now his constant companion. Day and night, Buck’s thoughts spiraled around what was worse: that he hurt, for weeks on end, or that he didn’t know what would happen afterwards. When he was finally healed. He wasn’t even sure what healing meant in his case. The ability to walk normally at some point or the actual chance to return to work?

The road to recovery was a long one, and it was uncertain, and Buck wasn’t prepared for the worst to come.

The pain eventually subsided, gradually becoming less and less, and one day Buck was standing safely on his both legs, and the suffering was just a memory. It was possible to heal, it was possible to work normally again – well, with a few stumbling blocks along the way, but that was on him. Those dreary days on the couch, staring angrily at the useless staircase, were forgotten, just like his gloomy thoughts about a future outside the firehouse.

Then, one day, when the increasingly pale scar seemed to be the only nasty reminder of a very bad day, it began to hurt. 

“Happens sometimes,” Bobby said, surprising him in the break room as he stroked his thigh thoughtfully. "When the seasons change, or sometimes even just on a rainy day. And sometimes, just because.”

“Just because?” Buck had asked, unbelieving, and Bobby had shrugged, smiling a wistful smile.

Only it wasn’t just the weather. Over the years, it was more and more “just because.” That’s also what his doctors said: that there was no real cause. It sometimes just happened – a hypersensitivity, a malfunction, and there was not much anybody could do.

It’s true, Buck had thought a lot about a future outside the firehouse. He’d just never spared a thought about a future of chronic pain. 

And now Buck is lying under a pile of rubble that used to be Tommy's ceiling – yes, he remembers. Not everything, but at least that: a perfectly normal evening, and it seems turned to ashes. This rubble crushes his legs, and the memory of the pain of that fateful day is back because it’s no longer a memory. It’s a never-ending nightmare, and he’s not sure he can take it this time.

The pain never really left him, it gave him just enough breathing space, and when Buck thought he was fine, it crushed him again. There’s no solution, because painkillers only help to a limited extent with chronic pain, and the procedure suggested by one of the doctors is experimental and possibly dangerous. The days when the pain flares up, like a far-too-old candle that just wouldn't give up, become more difficult to cope with.

All of this, all over again? More pain on top of this, and more horrible memories to haunt his sleep? The thought is overwhelming, it takes his breath away. There was a time when he would have welcomed the pain as a kind of redemption for all that he had failed in. But now? This is his life, his calling even. It’s impossible to imagine him, a guy who’s rescuing people from burning houses going back to a carefree life on the beach, mixing cocktails. Everything he’d done before being a firefighter, that had all just been jobs to distract his mind from the question of what he actually wanted. But he knows what he wants, now he knows. He’s got a fulfilling career and a boyfriend he adores. Buck is happy, and maybe that’s why the universe has decided to throw spokes in his wheels.

It didn’t need to outright crush him, though.

While the darkness around him slowly gives way to a pale gray, heralding dawn, Buck thinks with frightening clarity that it isn’t the pain alone that’s chronic. All the memories of what had happened back then are just as bad, and like the pain, they keep coming back. Sometimes, when the scar hurts particularly badly, so much so that he thinks it must swell up in an annoying red – which it never does – he's under that truck again, feeling the pressure of tons of steel. The memories are linked to the pain, which is why he usually avoids anything that takes him back to that day. That had been hard work – after all, his leg had been stuck under the fire engine which he used every day. In the end, it was necessary, Buck couldn't afford to be constantly disturbed by a siren or the engine’s red color. So it only happens very occasionally, perhaps because an oil spill on the road gives off a penetrating smell, like when he had been lying helplessly on the street with this smell in his nose. Then the pain returns, shooting through his leg and straight into his mind.

Despite everything, he had it under control, for a very long time.

There are many very good days, quite a few fine days and a few not so great ones. And then there are bad days, and Buck suddenly realizes that not even Tommy knows about them yet. It's absurd, but right now, as he lies under the rubble, unable to do anything but stare at the too-close ceiling, Buck thinks Tommy should know. He should know that Buck sometimes wakes up at night because his leg hurts, because either the memory stole into his dreams or the dreams brought up the memory. Because maybe it's not over, it's never over. Maybe this new injury is so bad that he will have to live with the pain forever, all the time.

Tommy should know that.

Buck never wanted to be a burden, because being born a disappointment was bad enough. He doesn't want that now either. The mere thought causes tears to well up in his eyes, and he angrily tries to push them back.

Dust is on his lips and his tongue, far too dry, is unable to remove it. This tiny space, which was only created by chance and keeps him alive, seems to be getting smaller by the minute. But it's not just the dusty air and sheer will that keeps him alive. It’s the thought of Tommy. His mind is only focusing on him now, repeating he needs to know over and over again.

There’s still so much he needs to tell him.

[grrrrriffin]

can you explain ryoma's stand/abilities if ydon't mind i don't think i ever caught explanation!! :)

SURE ! i actually made a doc about this a while back, so, just gonna paste that here :3. Sorry if theres formatting issues… im doing this on my ipad

GADZOOKS. HOST: RYOMA ROMÁN.

Namesake: Gadzooks - Lemon Demon

FOREWORD:

Pronouns: they/it

Gadzooks is a very independent stand. It has its own will, thoughts and feelings. Though it is spirit-bound to Ryoma, they are unable to control it. Gadzooks follows Ryoma's commands simply because of its fondness for her. It can and will disobey its host if it wishes to. This is also the conditions for any stand/human contract it might've made, hence why they are called “hosts” and not “users”.

BACKSTORY:

Gadzooks wasn't always Ryoma's stand. Gadzooks has lived for thousands of years, and had several other hosts before Ryoma. It would search for powerful people to contract, leaving when they died or became cumbersome. (Fun fact: One of these was the creator of the film projector, who modeled it after Gadzooks likeness.) As Gadzooks is without morality, some of its chosen were bound to be sinister individuals. After its host was killed by a younger Joseph (Battle Tendency) it began its search for a new body to take residence.

Eventually, It came across young Ryoma, who had recently moved to Japan. They were the polar opposite of what Gadzooks was looking for: Thin and frail, she was the farthest thing from powerful, yet she showed a compelling resilience despite her circumstances. Gadzooks decided to protect them from then on, but it would prove to be harder than expected.

PERSONALITY:

Gadzooks is defined by extremes. Its volatile nature is contrasted by its cold and calculating rationale. It deeply cares for Ryoma, (motherly in a way) but it is rather unemotional and detached. Its protective to a fault. It will stop at nothing to keep Ryoma safe, even if it causes them to be terrified of it. It takes no joy in killing, but doesn't shy away from it. Given its past, violence and intimidation are second nature, a hair trigger instinct. It views life with red-tinted glasses as it sees danger in everything and everyone. A friendship with Gadzooks is non-existent, but peaceful coexistence is achievable.

ABILITY:

Gadzooks has the ability to turn anything, immaterial or immaterial into film. Anything turned into film will then be then transported into the Film World.

Power: C

Speed: C

Range: A

Durability: D

Precision: B

Potential: A

Gadzooks doesn't have a lot of combat power, speed or durability, but it more than makes up for it with its versatility. Here are some of its uses:

Healing:

Stop bleeding (turn the broken blood vessels into film), Undo harm, (rewinding film on an injury or a broken object)

Offensive:

Cutting, (Injuries do not bleed. If limbs are left severed for a long period they will necrose from lack of oxygenation. Cutting is only fatal with decapitation. There is nothing Gadzooks can't "cut". Gadzooks’ "cutting" is an act of dividing by taking away thin slivers of film.)

Defensive:

Film conversion (subduing a target by turning their limbs into film and rendering them useless, or simply sending them into the Film world)

Reel recoil (instinctual defense mechanism that turns Ryoma into a film reel, in a similar fashion to a snail recoiling into its shell. The spikes on the reel prevent enemies from grabbing it since Ryoma is vulnerable in this state. If an ally is detected, the spikes will sink down, allowing to be held)

Special:

Memory film conversion (turning memories into film),

Film extraction (when used in tandem with Memory film conversion, can recover lost items from memory. The fresher the memory, the better. Objects may be altered by inaccurate recall. Film extraction can also be used to extract objects or people from video media, but yield unpredictable results.)

Film World Portal (ripping open a film portal to suck people inside) Film World manipulation (weaponizing natural disasters within the Film world, messing with gravity, moving buildings around.) Doppelganger swarm (The Dopplegangers sprout scissors and attack. They share the same cutting ability Gadzooks does.)

Film World Enlargement (Growing larger to heighten destructive capacity. Think Godzilla lol. Paired with Film Portal, can be used to reach outside of the Film World to cause damage in the material world.)

FILM WORLD:

The film world is a strange realm that resides in another reality. It manifests as a bizarre, flipped version of Morioh (as an island) which is populated by copies of the people Ryoma often interacts with.

Doppelgangers: These copies share some of Gadzooks physical traits, like their eyes, sharp metal teeth and, if aggressive, sharp scissor hands. They seem to glow from within, and seem blurry, like you're unable to focus on them. They perform strange impressions of their counterparts and speak in reverse. (Ryoma is able to speak to and understand them :3) They have a sort of sentience, but Gadzooks is able to influence their actions. The Doppelgangers are generally harmless, unless instructed to attack.

OHC-HOIROM: Morioh itself has been copied pretty faithfully with a few notable exceptions. Both the sky and sea have turned a bright red. The streets and buildings are covered in colorful patterns, arrow shapes in particular are common. This version of Morioh has been entirely mirrored (most noticeable on signs with text) Clock hands move counter clockwise, and much faster than normal… the way the trees blow in the wind, the birds, and even the shadows seem unnatural. It all adds up to this unshakeable feeling that something is off. It looks fake, manufactured, because. It is.

The Film World already existed prior to Ryoma, but Gadzooks changed it to suit Ryoma's interests (as well as it being influenced by Ryoma's unconscious mind). It was meant to be somewhere where Ryoma could escape to, a personalized haven of sorts. (think the other world from Coraline) Though Gadzooks doesn't have such a great grasp on the material world so it becomes a faulty (unnerving) recreation of their ideal world.

DRAWBACKS:

While immensely powerful, a grand majority of Gadzooks' power is limited by Ryoma's physical condition. Performing these abilities is taxing on their body, and causes hemorrhaging from the eyes and nose. When pushed to their limit, Ryoma may become unconscious for a period of time ranging from a couple hours to several days. With proper care (proper rest and nutrition), these symptoms can be alleviated.

[zombryz]

♡ all my suffering ♡

˗ˏˋ hello ˎˊ˗    & thx for reading :3

Chapter One

masterlist | Next Chapter 2  | ao3 | playlists (still updating) (dabi & shigaraki)

Pairings: Shigaraki x f!reader x Dabi

A/N: ok so, I started writing this following the original storyline of bnha but then somewhere along the way I got the timeline mixed up and then went down my own path. So please be aware this loosely follows the story of bnha.

Summary: You can’t remember who he is but something about him draws you in. While trapped with the LOV, you try to remember your quirk and who you were before. Unknowing to you, your life as a hero left you depressed and swallowed with PTSD from your quirk failing you. Maybe the heroes were wrong and villain's are people too?

Warnings: (current, may change throughout the story) PSTD, Death, depression, angst, abuse (physical and emotional), possessiveness, memory loss, eventual lemon, smut, slowburn

Word Count: 15k

It was the beginning of the school year when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. There was a very faint almond-like aroma in the air. The weather was comfortable, not too cold and not too hot. You had found yourself walking with one foot in front of the other up the all-too-familiar steps of the notorious school for heroes, U.A. High School. Graduating U.A. last school year, you returned to intern with the Youthful Heroine: Recovery Girl, who is the nurse at U.A. High School. Recovery Girl was no stranger to you, you were a student of hers prior to graduating. You had always loved her presence, she was a kind elderly woman who wore a lab coat that was way too big for her. Her quirk was quite similar to yours which made her curriculum feel like it was carved out for you and you only. Her quirk allows her to amplify and speed up the human healing process by kissing them. The only drawback is that it requires large amounts of energy from the subject, rendering them useless for long periods of time while their bodies recover. Your quirk on the other hand was slightly different, you were the Restore Hero: Medela. Principal Nezu was the one to suggest using your quirk in the medical field, he said he was certain you were able to fix anything that had once been broken. After his suggestion, one of your schoolmates, a boy who was in a class below you, had broken his leg. You were then put to the test, Recovery Girl had you use your quirk on the boy. You were nervous but got to working quickly, the boy’s whimpers of pain broke your heart. Once you put your hands on the boy’s leg there was silence and suddenly no more pain, you had closed your eyes while focusing on fixing his broken femur bone. Both Recovery Girl and your schoolmate stared at you in awe while you worked, your hair began to float and you had the gentlest smile spread across your lips. Once you had finished reversing his broken leg you slowly opened your eyes and noticed the boy staring back at you. A rosy heat spread all the way to his pointed ears. Later that day Recovery Girl stormed down to the Principal’s office and demanded that she train you. Here you were a year later returning to work under Recovery Girl. You’re scheduled to spend half of your school week with her and the other half at the hospital working under the nurses as an intern. There was still a lot you needed to learn in the medical field, your quirk just made things easier for you. Your quirk was touch-based which came in handy but unfortunately, you couldn’t be in two places at once. You learned the hard way that you have to come in contact with the dead moments after death in order to revive them. Reviving the dead was an incredible power, however, the first time it didn’t work you had a meltdown, and the accident haunted you for days, months even. You attempted to revive a young man who had been in a tragic car accident, the heroes had brought him in with multiple injuries including a head wound. You ran to the other side of the hospital as fast as you could once you were paged, it was already too late, he had been dead for only a couple of minutes. You held his head in your hands and pressed your forehead to his, your hair began to float but your gentle smile faded, instead it was replaced by a stream of tears. You couldn’t feel him anymore, he was gone. You had failed. The nursing staff tried to comfort you and tell you it wasn’t your fault but it didn’t help. That’s when the hospital requested that you spend some time with Recovery Girl once the new school year started, it would be less intense and you wouldn’t blame yourself for that boy's death every waking hour of the day. Your arrival to U.A. today was in hopes that they were right, you hoped that this would be a breather for you and that you could heal your worries before returning to the hospital full-time. 

Once entering U.A. you received a badge that read “student teacher” and you made your way to Recovery Girl’s office. There were a few familiar faces on the way but there was one that stood out to you the most, your first patient ever. The boy with the broken leg appeared to have grown up a lot in the past year. He was now towering over you, his dark hair was much longer and he still looked as shy as the day he was injured. You never learned his name but you smiled at him nonetheless and had hoped he remembered you too. He returned your smile with a toothy grin revealing his fangs and then he immediately got embarrassed and looked down at his feet. After roaming the halls for what felt like forever, you made it to Recovery Girl’s office, the bell ringing right after you entered the doorway. 

“Well if it isn’t my favorite student, Y/N,” Recovery Girl made her way over to you with short strides and your face lit up at the sight of her. You bent down to her level so she could hug you and place a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hello, Shuzenji! Long time no see,” 

Recovery girl left your hug to sit in her chair, she sighed before continuing, her tone was a serious one. “Now Y/N, you know I love you but why are you here? You should be fighting alongside heroes not sitting here with me, I’ve taught you everything I know!” she waved her hands around, her cane following for dramatic effect. 

“I-” you began to speak but you were cut off.

“If this is about that boy…. It wasn’t your fault and you know that.” she lowered her voice to show sympathy. You didn’t even know that she knew about that. Her words made you feel guilty for wasting her time.

“I know. I just… needed a break from it all. I don’t think I’m cut out for the hero world Shuzenji, I feel like I can’t breathe and if I walk away from the medical field everyone will hate me because my quirk is perfect for it,” your voice sounded heavy like you were pleading with her while holding back tears. You wanted her acceptance more than anything. 

“Now, you know no one will hate you. If time is what you need then I can give that to you,” she jumped down from her chair as if to say she was done speaking on the subject. “Let's start with you making files of all the new students for this year, okay?” Great. She was giving you her office work. 

“Sure, I’ll get started on that right away.” 

This was going to be a long next couple of months, you could already feel it in your bones. 

♡

A few weeks have passed at U.A. high school and you’ve gotten to know a lot of the students. Your most frequent visitor is a first-year boy named Izuku Midoriya who comes in quite often with broken fingers. He has tender eyes, a face full of freckles, and dark green hair. Every time he comes in you give him a hard time, it always ends with you begging him to be more careful. He makes false promises to make you feel better but he always ends up back in here. You think you might have a soft spot for him, he’s such a kind boy and it seems like he is giving his all to becoming a hero. You admire him for it, you don’t have the same motivation. Helping people comes naturally to you but being a hero is giving up your happiness for good. Heroes are always hurting inside, you can see it in their faces. 

You were currently in the nurse's office cleaning up the cots for the next kid that wanders in here with an injury. You heard some commotion down the hall and without hesitation you followed the yelling to see where it was coming from and to see if anyone was hurt and needed help. It was a group of teachers, they apparently just found out some troubling news. Class 1-A was attacked at the U.S.J. building by a swarm of villains. Your eyes go wide when you realize that means the villains infiltrated the school. 

“I’ll come just in case anyone is hurt!” you said to no one in particular but turned to face the teacher Snipe who only nodded in response. 

Once you and your fellow teachers arrived at the U.S.J. it was a total mess, there were unconscious bodies everywhere. It looked like the battle was coming to an end, and in the center of it all, you could see your old teacher Mr.Aizawa, or rather the Pro Hero: Eraserhead, laying flat on his stomach in a pool of blood. Without thinking you attempted to run after him, he needed help and you could provide it. A strong force stopped you before you could continue your way down the stairs. Wrapped around you was one of Snipe’s arms, he was holding you in place, his maroon cape draping over you slightly, and in his other hand was a pistol. You followed its line of sight to where he was aiming, there was a man you had never seen before. He must be a villain. He was wearing all black and was dressed in hands, literal hands, from what you can tell. They were wrapped around his arms, neck, and shoulders. Red wires that matched his shoes were sticking out of the backs of the hands connecting them all together. The creepiest feature was the large hand that covered his whole face. It made you feel uneasy. The sound of gunshots pulled you from your thoughts causing you to turn and face Snipe, who was relentlessly unloading bullets into the Villain in the distance. You watched as a bullet hit his chest, both arms, and legs. He fell to the ground before a dark cloud cast over him, you assumed it was to teleport him back to where he came from. A look of panic spread across your face, you had no idea if the Villain that was before you only moments ago was now dead or not. Snipe still held onto you as he continued unloading bullets into the cloud, he wore a mask but you knew that if his face was bare that there wouldn't be a single bit of emotion behind his shots. The thought of that scared you. Villains were just scum to heroes, but to you, they were people too. It felt like time froze as you looked up at your captor, he finally lowered his weapon and let you go. The panic on your face was replaced with judgment as you furrowed your brows at him. Snipe shook it off and took it as if you were just upset that he wouldn’t let you run down to the war zone. Without exchanging words you turned around to finally run down towards the others. 

A few students had helped carry Eraserhead up the stairs, he seemed to be suffering the most damage.

“Don’t worry guys, I got him,” you reached out to help the students lower him to the ground so that you could start healing him. He was unconscious and suffered a very extreme injury to his elbow, you had never seen something so damaging. His muscles surrounding his bones were out in the open, and there was no longer any skin protecting his elbow. His right eye was covered in blood but that injury would have to be treated secondly. If you don’t act now he could have permanent nerve damage. You sat his head in your lap while you grabbed his elbow with both of your hands activating your quirk. Closing your eyes and connecting your forehead to his you felt like something was wrong, you couldn’t feel his elbow healing. When you opened your eyes his elbow looked exactly the same, you began to breathe heavily, a panic sweeping over you. It was happening again, your quirk is failing you. Why? What the fuck is wrong with me? Why is it happening again?

“U-um something’s wrong! Someone help!” your voice was shaky but you were able to speak loud enough for the others to hear you. Shuzenji was the first to rush to your side, she looked Eraserhead up and down. His head was still in your lap while you were fighting back tears. You tried to keep him still so that he wouldn’t be in pain, your thumb gently running over his temples. Shuzenji gave you a look like she knew exactly what was going on, she knew that you weren’t going to be able to heal him. 

“We need to get him to my office immediately, hurry!” Shuzenji pounded her cane on the ground multiple times to get the other teacher's attention. Eraserhead was ripped from your arms by Snipe and Present Mic and you were left on the ground of the U.S.J feeling defeated. You weren’t able to help him and you had no idea what you’d done wrong. 

♡

After the U.S.J. attack, you learned that the villainous group who broke in went by ‘The League of Villains’, the man who you saw get shot multiple times was known as Tomura Shigaraki, just a boy who was only a few years older than you. This made you sick to your stomach. The news didn’t say whether or not he was alive which still made you uneasy considering the LOV has been quiet since the attack. Luckily, you didn’t have time to think about it much, everyone was too busy preparing for the U.A. Sports Festival, including yourself. You knew there would be a lot of injuries and you had to come ready to assist Shuzenji. Although you've been in your head ever since failing Eraserhead, you were stuck fighting an internal battle. Seeing him wrapped in bandages head to toe definitely pulled on your heartstrings. Apologizing to him didn’t make you feel any better, he shrugged it off and told you that “shit happens'. He gave his life to save the kids of Class 1-A but you couldn’t save him. What an awful feeling, failing.

You had sat in the stadium watching the students battle below you, cringing whenever one of them got hurt. You would rise from your seat and meet them in the nurse's office once they were pulled from the arena. You scolded Izuku for going too hard battling his classmate Todoroki. After healing both of his arms you sent him on his merry way.

The next few weeks at U.A. were a drag, there was a ton of talk about a hero killer in Hosu City. The students were working with pro heroes to train under them so there wasn’t much to do at the school. You wanted to avoid the hospital though so you tried to keep yourself busy. You spent a lot of time with the teachers and even got to go to lunch with All Might a few times. Younger you was fangirling hard. He wasn’t a teacher when you were here last year so you were taking full advantage of getting to know the number one Pro Hero. 

“Soooo, All Might... Out of curiosity, have you ever fought Shigaraki before the U.S.J incident?” you looked up at him with big doe eyes while funneling the rest of your ramen into your mouth. You only had a little under an hour for lunch with All Might so you tried to pick his brain as much as possible. You weren’t even sure why you were asking this question, you just couldn’t get the villain out of your head.

“No, young L/N, I have not fought him before. To be honest with you, I am stumped as to where he came from but this isn’t the first time I have had enemies so he is nothing to worry about. I’ll catch him.” he finished his sentence with a hint of sadness in his voice although he was still toothy with his signature All Might smile. Without realizing it, All Might gave you information that he also believes Shigaraki to be alive with that last comment.

You figured he wouldn’t speak any more on the subject so you kept quiet until your time was up. You always swear that All Might is steaming by the time he leaves you. Later that evening you were alone to gather your thoughts. Your stomach dropped at the thought of Shigaraki being alive out there plotting more attacks, but for some reason, you’re also thankful you didn’t watch him die. You wish you could put this fascination of him to rest, or whatever you’d call it. You didn’t like that your mind automatically went to him being shot over and over again. 

Even though you knew he was alive now for some reason he didn’t leave your mind. During Class 1-A’s final exams, you just kept thinking back to him, maybe it was because you couldn’t see his face. Why were you so fascinated by him? Maybe you were just bored and U.A. wasn’t as fast-paced as you needed it to be. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you were becoming obsessed with him. The news outlets knew very little about him and it irked you. If only you could just find out who he was and then you could return to normal. He was slowly taking over your mind. When you closed your eyes you saw him, hand over his face and light blue shaggy hair falling around it. Even when you healed Izuku after his final exam with All Might you saw Shigaraki when you closed your eyes. You apparently jolted while healing because Izuku asked you if you were okay. 

It didn’t get much better in the days to come, it was now summer for the students and they were going to a camp to get more training. You volunteered to go with them so that Shuzenji didn’t have to. After all, how could the students manage to injure themselves at a summer camp? 

You were staying in the same vicinity as Eraserhead and Vlad King. There were no injuries on the first night, just a ton of sore and tired kids. The students had to make their way to the camp down a mountain of forest while fighting a bunch of rock monsters that Pixie-bob, the pussycat hero, created from landslide rocks. The next day you sat around and watched all of the students pushing their quirks to their limits, you almost felt bad for them but you remembered that this was needed for them to know their limits. On the third day of the lodge trip, Pixie-bob and Ragdoll explain a game that the students were going to play called the test of courage. It was a game that would take place in the forest. It was dark already so you knew this game was going to be spooky. Both classes 1-A and 1-B would have scarers and scarees. The class that scared the most students would ultimately win. You decided to hang back with Eraserhead while he taught the supplementary lessons to those who didn’t pass the final exams. You were in the back of the classroom on your phone when you heard an urgent message reverberate through your brain, it was Mandalay using her telepathy to warn everyone about a Villain invasion. Your eyes widened with fear. How did they find this place? 

“Y/N, come with me. Everyone else stays put.” Eraserhead signaled you to follow him, there was no hesitation, you got to your feet and met him at the front of the classroom. Technically, you had your Pro Hero license and you were registered as a Pro Hero so if it came down to fighting then fighting was what you were going to do to protect the students. Luckily, on this trip, you were required to wear your Pro Hero costume. You wore a black spandex suit that was easy to move around in. You had black combat boots on and thigh attachments that carried medical equipment on one thigh and a holster to carry knives on the other side. This was in case you had to cut someone out of a seat belt or cut their clothes to allow access to heal them. Your hair was sloppily pulled back in a half up half down bun because you weren’t actually in the field and you knew you wouldn’t get in trouble for being ‘out of uniform’. You were considered a rescue hero but you were also taught hand-to-hand combat at U.A. “I’ll meet you outside, I’m going down the hall to get Vlad.” 

“Okay, I’ll get as many students inside as I can,” you replied to which Eraserhead nodded and took off down the hall. 

You ran outside and after taking a look around you realized that this was not a good situation. You heard screams coming from the woods and saw what looked like a gas cloud over the distance. You made a mental note to be cautious when breathing if you came too close to it. Suddenly you heard a twig snap to your right and saw a hand reach out toward your face, you ducked just in time and see a wave of blue flames go over your head. If you hadn’t reacted quickly you would’ve quite literally been toast. Thinking on your feet you sweep your foot out and trip your opponent, he falls to the ground and you place your foot on his chest to immobilize him. You only got a quick look at him before he grabbed your foot and sent flames up your calf forcing you to release him. You doubled over in pain from the burns and grasped at your calf noticing his flames burnt your suit up to right above your knee. The fabric was singed into your skin, you quickly healed yourself but your opponent took off inside the building. Fuck. You punched your fist into the ground before rising to your feet to chase after him. You’re met with Eraserhead stomping the man over and over again before he began turning into mud beneath him. 

“He was just a clone,” he whispered under his breath but you were close enough to hear him. Great, so the real one is out there somewhere. 

“I’m going to go find as many students as I can and escort them back here to safety,” you looked to Eraserhead for confirmation, he quickly nodded and you were out the door. 

Avoiding the fog you took off in the opposite direction. Suddenly, you hear Mandalay’s voice once more. Her words rang through your brain, the students were now authorized to battle the villains. This made you less concerned now that the students were able to fight back, although you prayed the kids were strong enough to fight these villains. After escorting a few students from class 1-B back to camp, you continued through the forest in hopes of rescuing more students. In the distance you recognized a few of class 1-A students' voices, it was dark so you squint your eyes to pinpoint their location. From what you could tell it was Todoroki, Bakugo, Shoji, and Fumikage. Silently you started running after them, it wouldn’t be smart to yell out towards them just in case there were any villains lurking around. As you got closer you noticed a head of dark green hair on Shoji’s back. Oh no, Midoriya must be hurt. Finally, you were close enough to get their attention. As you reached your hand out towards them and parted your lips to speak you were stopped abruptly by the force of someone grabbing a hold of you. A large burnt-up hand descended into your peripherals, grabbing a hold of your face to cover your mouth. Their hands were hot but there was an uncomfortableness when you felt cold staples against your lips. When you tried to scream you were met with silence. Unable to see your captor you tried to shake them by rapidly jerking your body. You attempted to head-butt them with the back of your skull as hard as you could but they were much taller than you so you were just met with a hard thud of their shoulder. Your vision went blurry and you could tell you partially knocked yourself out. This captor was too strong for you, your fighting was met in defeat when you noticed a small bluish marble in their other hand. A panic swept over you, were you about to die? Your captor moved the marble towards you and you were met with nothingness. Everything went black, it was as if you were sedated and fell silently asleep. 

“I got the healer girl, we have everyone we need, let's get back to the boss.” 

♡

Falling in and out of consciousness you felt weightless against someone or something. Whoever they were made you feel tiny in their grasp as you were being held against your will. Once you gained enough energy after waking, you managed to kick and wiggle against your captor but when you tried to let out a scream there was no noise, you were only met with silence and a pounding feeling on the side of your temple. Then there was a terrifying feeling of something warm trickling down your face. Trying to wipe it from your cheek you immediately felt the tension as you realized your hands were bound together behind your back. Your stomach was uneasy as it was pressed against this stranger. You must’ve been thrown over their shoulder and facing the ground behind them. That’s when the panic set in, you couldn’t actually see anything. It was completely dark. Your breathing felt heavy and you were drenched in sweat. After analyzing the situation quickly you came to terms with the fact that there was no escaping the stranger’s grasp, at least right now. From what you could tell, your head was covered with some sort of cloth and your mouth was taped shut so that you couldn’t scream. Closing your eyes you inhaled through your nose as deeply as your lungs allowed. Ouch. That’s when you noticed all of your pain. Either a cracked or bruised rib, the possible gash in the side of your head, and your wrists bloodied from trying to escape. The only noises to be heard were your captors' giant footsteps. It sounded like a dirt path with some scattered gravel. You think it's night, the only information you have to confirm this is the crickets in the distance and how dark it is through the cloth. Maybe you were in the woods? Ugh, this was no use, plus you felt so tired suddenly and with the swaying of your strangers' strides, you couldn’t help but feel like they were rocking you to sleep. Your eyes began to feel heavy and all at once, your head dropped and you were out of consciousness again. 

Everything was muffled. There were multiple voices as you stirred yourself awake. It felt like you were maybe tied to a chair. Now that you were grounded you felt extremely dizzy and nauseous. It felt like you were hit by a truck. The cloth was still over your head but this time you were able to see some light shining through. You made a mental note that you were probably inside, the only question remaining was where? There was dried blood all over your face. The blood extended to your right ear and dried up, slicking your hair back and knotting it together.  With the movement of your stirring awake, you must’ve opened the gash more causing another warm substance to trickle down your face, down your cheek, and finally pooling in the crevice of your collarbone. 

“Oh, yummy! She’s bleeding,” a young girl spoke over the rest of the voices, you could hear her musical footsteps approaching you as she skipped over. She started humming in your ear and then you felt her finger gather the pooling blood on your clavicle like how you would gather leftover sauce on your plate. You were still unable to see her but this action made you wince. 

“Don’t touch her Toga, and stop being a pain in my ass,” another voice chimed in, it was deep and soothing, almost like a crackling fire. Whomever it belonged to sounded dangerous. 

“Sorry Dabi,” the girl retreated, backing away from you. You were relieved of this until suddenly someone ripped the cloth bag off of your head. The light was almost blinding, your ears started ringing and you flinched away trying to let your eyes adjust. Through heavy lashes, you looked up at the group that captured you. They were all hovering over you and you felt like their prey just sitting there tied to a chair, like a lamb to the slaughter. Your eyes tracked a figure in the background that was walking towards the scene. He looked oddly familiar but for some reason, you can’t remember why. Everyone parted allowing access to the stranger amongst strangers. He was tall and skinny, he wore all black aside from his bright red sneakers. The most concerning part was that of his face, although it wasn’t a face really. It was a hand. Laying over his face was a decomposing hand. Creepy. It was shaped like that of a man’s left hand and at the end of the wrist was a gold-plated block. His shaggy blue hair fell on the sides of his face and parted through the slits of the hand’s fingers. Through the hand’s middle and index finger was his eye, he was looking at you curiously as you stared back at him with curiosity for him as well. The moment was intense and everyone in the room fell silent while he kneeled in front of you, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He was rough with his touch causing you to wince.

“Strange. Why aren’t you screaming? Don’t you know who we are?” His voice was much raspier and high pitched than you expected. Although he was touching you, for some odd reason, you weren’t scared of him. You almost didn’t feel anything at all, complete stillness. 

“No, am I supposed to know who you are?” it hurt to speak, your voice came out strained and low. It felt similar to a child being lectured and knowing they were in trouble. 

“I suppose not,” he let go of your chin aggressively, not liking your answer. Your chin felt empty where his hand once was and the heaviness of your body gave in, you couldn’t keep your head up any longer. That’s when he noticed how bad the gash in your head was. Your ear was covered in blood making it hard to hear, you were sure that some of it pooled into your ear drum. The ominous man turned on his heels to face the rest of his group. “Nobody touches her unless I say so, got it?” his voice was deeper when he spoke to them. It was more authoritative. This confirmed your suspicions of him being their leader, whoever he was. You watched him closely while he was turned away. His hair fell at the backside of his shoulders, giving him access to his neck. He looked lean and pale. That’s when you noticed all the scratch marks that infested the underneath of his jawline. His skin was very dry and irritated. The girl from before frowned at his order and with eyes drunk in desperation, she smiled at you before skipping away. The rest of the group started dispersing before the faceless man turned to another man who was leaning against the wall nonchalantly. He had a dark presence and was wearing a black overcoat with what looked like heavy metal sleeves. 

“Clean and stitch her up,” the leader pointed at you with a nod. The other man stood up and walked closer to him. Once he was under the light you noticed his facial scarring. He had a smile made of staples that went from earlobe to earlobe. His under eyes were also covered in staples and his facial scarring almost looked a purple hue. When he noticed you staring at him his eyes met yours and you nervously looked away. Before you did you caught a glimpse of how piercingly blue his eyes were. 

“C’mon boss, make Toga do it,” the dark-haired man complained, he must be Dabi. You recognized his voice from earlier when the Toga girl apologized to him. He looked agitated, it made sense. He was probably in so much pain, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was angry all the time. 

“Toga would drain her, just do it Dabi,” the blue-haired leader sighed, he also seemed annoyed. In all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were here or why they went through the trouble of kidnapping you if they think of you as so much of a burden. 

“Fine, but just because you don’t think I’ll ‘drain’ her doesn’t mean I’m going to play nice,” he retorted, ending the conversation with his boss. He trudged towards you with haste in each step. Before you knew it he stood before you, his crystal blue eyes staring down at you, bewilderment hiding behind such anger and pain. You looked at him through your lashes, not sure what he wanted you to do. He lowered himself to untie you from the chair, making sure that your hands were still bound together. You weren’t even sure if you would consider yourself a danger to him. Even without the knowledge of his quirk, you were almost positive he could overpower you. Wait, what was your quirk again? You didn’t have long to ponder this question before Dabi picked you up and draped you over his shoulder. He held the back of your legs tightly while carrying you across the room. At this angle you finally got to look at your surroundings, you were in a cozy little bar. The room was filled with cigarette smoke and there was soft music playing. As you were carried out of the room you saw the man with a hand for a face sitting at the bar, whisky in hand, his pinky in the air while he held the glass. Only now, the hand that was on his face was placed on the bar top as you would place your wallet or car keys on an ordinary night out drinking. He watched you in silence while Dabi carried you away into the darkness. His hair fell too low past his eyes for you to be able to see any more of his face. He was still such a mystery to you. 

Dabi carried you past the bar curtains and down a long dark hallway. You wanted to talk to him but you knew that whatever questions you asked, he probably wouldn’t answer. Annoying him wasn’t in your best interest. It was at this moment that you noticed he wasn’t the same man that carried you in earlier. Whoever, or whatever they were, were on a much bigger scale. Their steps were pounding, unlike Dabi’s only slightly heavy steps. It seemed like Dabi could be sneaky if he wanted to. Maybe he felt comfortable here? Maybe these people were his family? You didn’t get a chance to overanalyze before you were pulled out of your head by Dabi dropping you to your feet. He started pushing you through a door and you silently obeyed. You were still facing him and behind him was what looked like a bedroom, there was a bed on the floor in the corner and blackout curtains over the windows. There was scattered trash everywhere and the room was lit only by a single blue UV light that was fixed over a snake terrarium. 

“C’mon, stop wasting time,” he finally spoke as he grabbed your shoulders to spin you around towards the bathroom. Once you had your back towards him you looked up at the mirror across from the door and went wide-eyed. You panicked falling backward into Dabi causing him to trip and fall back into the room, you landed in between his legs and immediately started crying into his chest. Your arms were still bound together so you weren’t able to hug yourself and curl into a ball like you so badly wanted to. Dabi was extremely confused and annoyed at this point, he huffed as he got back up and manhandled you into going back into the bathroom. You cried, kicked, and screamed but it was no use. Dabi was stronger and dragged you along with him. He took out a knife and cut the bounds that held your wrists together before he shoved you into the bathtub. You fell to your knees in the tub and just stared at your hands, tears still streaming down your face. 

“Stop being a brat! What’s wrong? Huh?” he raised his voice at you, he couldn’t believe he was the one who got stuck with this job. 

The room was filled with silence, only your sniffles filled the awkward tension in the cold tub. “I-I don’t recognize who that was in the mirror. I don’t think I remember who I am. I’ve been trying to think of my name since arriving here and I can’t…” You managed to get out through broken cries. “Did something happen to me? Who am I?” you finally looked up at the man covered in staples. His face was neutral but once he locked eyes with you his face softened in the slightest. He looked away and sighed before kneeling down so that the two of you were face to face, inches apart. 

“Listen, sweetheart, I don’t have all the answers… I’m just following orders.” his voice was low and gruff, you could tell he wasn’t lying to you. He scanned your face and gathered that you weren’t satisfied with that answer, it only sturred more confusion for you. “All I know is that the league kidnapped you for your quirk and that your name is Y/N,” your eyes left your hands to look at him, your sweet, tear-filled eyes met his pained ones and over the course of this conversation he seemed to become more gentle with you. You weren’t sure why that was but that’s not important right now. He is answering your questions which means he is proving to at least be a trusted ally… for now. 

“Y/N?” you repeated after him, it sounded foreign on your tongue. None of this was making sense to you. With a confused look you met Dabi’s eyes once more, “What is a ‘league’ and..” you paused before asking, just to be sure that you couldn’t remember, “Dabi, what’s my quirk?” you pouted. Tears started streaming down your face once more. You couldn’t remember anything and it was tearing you apart inside. Dabi looked at you with pity, he didn’t always feel bad for others, especially with how everyone treated him and cast him out of society, but right now, at this moment he actually felt sorry for you. Part of Dabi also envied you, he would give anything to forget everything like you have. Even if only for a little bit. Dabi was pulled from his thoughts when you repeated his name, “Dabi?” 

“I, uh… we are a group called the league of villains,” he quickly brushed over that part so that you wouldn’t panic again but to his surprise, you didn’t, you just listened to him carefully, “Shigaraki wanted you for your healing abilities, I don’t know the details of your quirk but that's all that I know.” 

Healing abilities? Shigaraki? Was that the leader’s name? God, why couldn’t you remember anything? This was all so frustrating. You sat in the tub, cold, exhausted, and in pain. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your temple, brushing the hair away from your face. Dabi was moving the hair from your blooded side to get a better look at the gash. He moved in closer to your face and adjusted your head downwards, at this angle you were so close to his neck. You stared at his Adam's apple while he tilted your head at different angles, examining you. He smelt like cigarette smoke, fire, and leather. It wasn't a bad combination but it definitely suited him. 

“I think you losing your memory has something to do with this,” he poked at the gash in your head and you winced. Dabi grabbed your chin to get a good look into your eyes. “Yeah, your pupils are two different sizes, that’s not good.” You couldn’t help but look at his staples, at this close proximity all you wanted to do was touch them, run your fingers over them and ask him about how he became this way, why he joined the league in the first place but you stopped yourself. 

“Wait, what do you mean that’s not good?” your voice betraying you, accidentally letting the worry seep through. 

“I don’t know, kid, I’m not a doctor.” Dabi lets go of your chin and stands up. Hovering over you, he takes the shower head and yanks it down so that it's closer to your head. He squats once again in front of you and leans over to turn the water on. On the other end of the tub, he checks to make sure the water is warm before bringing it back to you. The stream hits your gash and at first it stings but then you sink into the warm water and it feels really nice. You close your eyes and let all the dried-up blood run down your face and rinse out of your hair. Dabi watches as you lose yourself in the feeling, he has to hold back the urge to run his hands through your hair to give you a proper bath and massage your scalp. He feels bad for being the reason you lost your memory. If you hadn’t headbutted him so hard when he met you in those woods. He told Shigaraki that he wasn’t going to play nice. You’re the enemy, you work alongside heroes. Well, you didn’t know that, right? He didn’t expect you to be like this. Your memory is gone. Dabi could shape you into the perfect villain with Shigaraki’s help. You unconsciously smile up at him while he’s thinking about all the ways of making you evil. He nearly drops the shower head. There it is, a smile. Your smile. Oh no, Dabi couldn’t take this. He didn’t like the feeling that he just felt in the pit of his stomach. He shoves the shower head into your palm and walks away. He padlocks the bathroom door and takes off down the hall with his hands in his pockets. Dabi loudly knocks on his boss's bedroom door and is met with an exhausted and annoyed Shigaraki. His collection of hands splayed on his desk behind him and his face droops in exhaustion. “What is it Dabi? Have you fixed her up yet?” he wipes his eyes and yawns, it is now clear that Dabi had woken his boss up from sleeping. 

“She doesn’t remember who she is. She suffered a bad head injury and didn’t even know what her quirk was. I think we can use this to our advantage.” Dabi lowers his voice, not wanting to alarm the others. 

“I see, very well then..” Shigaraki thinks for a moment before talking again, “but if she doesn’t remember how to use her quirk and is no longer of use to the league. I’ll dust her,” he responds with a slightly menacing grin. “I don’t care where she sleeps but don’t let her out of your sight, she's your responsibility tonight.”  Dabi nods and makes his way back down the hallway. He stops by Toga’s room grabbing some clothes for you to change into. Toga offered to help but Dabi told her to stay away from you or he’d roast her.

Once he’s back in his room he takes off his overcoat and unlocks the door to the bathroom. “You left me,” you say looking up at him with a pitiful look in your eyes. The shower was still going but you were just sitting there, not holding on to the shower head anymore. Dabi walks over and turns off the shower. 

“I went to grab you some clothes.” he hands you a towel, it was not very clean but you suppose anything was better than nothing. You flip your head and start towel drying your hair and immediately regret it. Ow, fuck, that hurts. “You’re hurting yourself more, come here stupid,” Dabi demands and you get out of the tub to stand directly in front of him. His height made him tower over you, which was also good for him so that he could get a better look at your head. He gently patted the area and handed you Toga’s clothes once your hair was no longer drenched, “Get dressed, and then I have to patch you up.” With that, he exited the room. You looked at the outfit that was handed to you, a black t-shirt and some yellow shorts with strawberries on them, it’ll work for the night. You opened the door and Dabi had his back facing you. You noticed he wasn’t wearing the black overcoat anymore. Just a black t-shirt and his dark pants. He looked over his shoulder at you so you could just see the bridge of his nose, his hair fell on the side of his face, probably from the humidity of the bathroom. In the blue lighting, he looked much more brooding than before, his face turned down. “You ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” you replied unsurely, you really didn’t know how bad your cut was but you decided against better judgment, to trust Dabi. He had you sit on the toilet seat cover so that he could work on your head. He used alcohol and steri-strips. He was pretty good at this, your cut barely hurt when he touched it. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t have to use staples or stitch you up. That would’ve been a pain in the ass.” he lightly chucked and it made your heart flutter. You couldn’t help but stare at him, although you were the one who was vulnerable in this state, it seemed as though he also let his guard down a bit. “Done.” he lets out a huff before backing away from you to get a good look at his handy work. You were now sitting on the toilet legs criss crossed and the big t-shirt draped over your knees. Dabi didn’t allow his eyes to go any lower.

“So what now?” you ask, staring up at him like a lost puppy. You needed direction. Not remembering who you were, how to use your quirk, not even remembering your name, what you looked like. You felt lost and right now, Dabi was the only person you felt you could trust.

“I guess for tonight, you’re my responsibility,” he was looking into your eyes now, those piercingly blue eyes, heavily lidded with something you couldn’t decipher. Tiredness, maybe?

“Okay.” 

You follow Dabi back into his bedroom, the blue light is flickering in the corner above the terrarium, and everything else is in the shadows. You were able to see the creature now, it was an albino python, it menacingly slithered to the top, hitting its head on the glass, aching to escape. You wondered if that’s how you should feel, being here, with these people. Why are you not afraid of them? Shigaraki asked why you weren’t scared and you didn’t have an answer. They’re all strangers but you don’t feel frightened in their presence. Dabi pulls you out of your thoughts when you hear a metallic click, “Woah, wait, what are you doing?” Your heart is racing, you don't want to be bound again. Your wrists are still sore from before, why did he have to handcuff you?

“Relax doll,” Dabi takes the other handcuff and attaches it to his own wrist, bounding the two of you together instead. He takes the key and drops it into the snake’s cage. “I can’t let you out of my sight, this is the only way I can get some sleep too.” You didn’t like this. It’s not like the thought of escaping hasn’t crossed your mind but where would you go? You didn’t even know where you lived or if you had a cellphone. The best idea was to just stay put. Dabi climbs into his bed and shuffles under the blanket. You’re still standing a few feet from the bed, as much as yours and his wing span allow. His arm is floating above his head still attached to you, “Are you coming or what?” he retorts, you couldn’t really see him but you could hear it in his voice that he was liking this. 

“No way, I’ll sleep on the floor,” you started lowering yourself when Dabi yanks you into bed with him, catching you in his chest. It was honestly annoying how comfortable this was. Your head was under his chin and your arms were above your head, being used as pillows. Your eyes quickly got heavy and you could feel the sleep washing over you. Dabi adjusted the blanket so that it covered you both. 

“So, you don't want to be a brat anymore?” he chuckled slightly and you could feel his chest rise and fall beneath you. Your body was so worn out, and you were still so cold. Maybe from the loss of blood or maybe because your hair was still wet, you couldn’t decipher it. The only thing you knew was that Dabi was so warm. Your teeth started jittering uncontrollably. Dabi must’ve noticed because he took his free hand and set it on top of your bare thigh. You didn’t have any fight left in you to argue with him. Accepting your fate you nuzzled deeper into his chest, eliciting a blush from Dabi. “Here, I can help…” his voice slightly above a whisper sending chills down your spine. You weren’t sure what he meant but not too long after you felt heat radiate from his palm. Almost immediately you stopped jittering. This must be his quirk. You hum in comfort and cuddle deeper into Dabi’s chest without thinking.

As you close your eyes you could feel Dabi’s breathing start to steady, his free arm moved up until it was draped over your waist as he held you close to him. There was one question still stirring in your mind, “Hey…” you started, Dabi hummed in acknowledgment, “Was I a hero or a villain before I lost my memory?” there was a long pause, you figured he just fell asleep but then,

“You were a vigilante, that's why we had to kidnap you, you didn’t join us willingly” the lie rolled so smoothly off his tongue, he had you right where he wanted you. Like a mouse cornered by a snake. “Can any other questions wait until tomorrow?” 

“Sure, goodnight Dabi,” and just like that, he was out like a light. You followed suit and drifted soundly to sleep in his arms. 

The throbbing pain emitting from your skull wakes you up. There’s no telling what time of day it is. The room is still very dark but when your eyes finally adjust you notice a small amount of sun peaking through the black-out curtains at the end of the bed. You remember everything from yesterday but when you try to think of anything before that you are left with nothing but a pounding headache. You extend your arm to try and soothe the ache coming from your head when you realize you’re still handcuffed to a scarred and stapled hand. A loud thud from the bar pulls your attention and is followed by loud voices traveling down the hallway creating a doppler effect. To your surprise, when you look back over toward your wrist you see that Dabi was still sleeping. His face was directly in front of yours, he looked so blissful while he slept. It was as if all his pain was washed away. Letting your eyes trail down his body you see that your leg is draped over his waist and his hand is tightly holding the back of your thigh as if you’d disappear if he let go. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. When you pulled your leg away Dabi jolted awake and sat up in bed, yanking you along with him. You were pulled into his lap and the two of you were tangled in the sheets. Ouch. The tension of the handcuff was starting to hurt your already bruised wrist causing you to wince in pain.

“I thought we were being attacked,” Dabi’s morning voice was hoarse and deep. He groaned as he rubbed his eyes awake, careful to not pull out his staples. He had tugged you close to him accidentally, close enough now to where your head is placed near his heart. His heart was racing. This made you feel bad for startling him. 

“I don’t know if we are, there was a loud bang and people yelling outside the door.” you retort, looking up at him and finally seeing those piercing blue eyes again. He looks down at you, meeting your eyes. His hair is all fluffy and messy. Despite that, he looks much more rested than yesterday, you wonder if you look rough or well-rested also. After seeing yourself in the mirror yesterday, you decided you didn’t want to know. Another loud thump coming from the bar causes Dabi to actually jump out of bed this time, dragging you along with him. This is when you notice that he is not wearing pants. He was just in black boxer shorts and a black tee. When did he take his pants off? There’s no time for questions as he pulls you within arm's length behind him, straining your already bruised wrist. Waddling behind his pale legs you keep having to catch yourself because you’re tripping over something. The blanket is bundled around your ankles and your free arm has the blanket wrapped around your torso. With all the commotion and Dabi not stopping, you figured it was easier to run with the blanket than try to untangle yourself. When you enter the bar you see Toga, the blonde girl from before standing on the bar top. There’s a man in a black and white skin-tight spandex suit trying to catch her. Her laugh fills the bar and you realize they’re playing tag. There’s a broken wine bottle on the floor which must’ve been one of the noises you heard from the bedroom. In the corner of the bar, you see who you now know to be the League’s leader, Shigaraki, sitting by himself sipping on something dark. Isn’t it the morning, why is he drinking so early? Well, I suppose there’s nothing better to do. There is a dark cloud figure with a purple aura behind the bar, they seem to be drying off glassware with a white rag. You’re a little confused by what they are, they’re dressed in a nice vest and black dress pants. Their neck is encapsulated in a metallic cone. Yellow eyes stare directly back at you. 

“Well, good morning love birds!” Toga sings with a sadistic grin creeping across her face. She then jumps off the bar top into the other league members' arms, he spins her around before setting her down. 

Dabi looks away from them, not wanting to acknowledge her comment. When you look down at your feet covered in a blanket and back at Dabi in boxers handcuffed to you, you realize this is suggesting only one thing.

“Oh, no, no, no, we didn’t…” you plead by shaking your hands, your eyes shifting back and forth from Toga to Shigaraki who looks like he does not care to be a part of this conversation. He is facing away from everything, quietly sipping his glass before setting it down on the table in front of him. His annoyance takes over and he gets up slowly to make his way over to you and Dabi.

“Oooo, someone’s in trouble” Toga adds, still smiling. 

You’re too nervous to look him in the eyes as he walks over to you both. His presence is menacing and makes you uneasy. He walks up to Dabi and speaks directly to him, completely ignoring your presence. You finally look over at him and for the first time you see his eyes and they are almost more piercing than Dabi’s, there’s so much pain and numbness behind them and you can feel every bit of it. They’re the opposite color of Dabi’s, a deep red, very fitting for someone like him. He doesn’t take his eyes off Dabi while he continues to ignore you. To your surprise, he doesn’t actually scare you despite the tear rolling down your face betraying your feelings. Shigaraki is a force to be reckoned with, you can feel the power radiating from him. The others must either fear him or know the destruction he can cause at a whim. He is also so much taller than you expected him to be, his stature making him that much more terrifying.

“Don’t blame her for any of this. I handcuffed her so I could finally get some sleep.” Dabi tsked and looked away from him annoyed, not actually wanting to say anything but instead he stood up for you. Shigaraki didn’t change anything about his position, his eyes panned their way to yours threatening you with just a look, a silent conversation between the two of you. He crept low to meet your ear, your breath escaping you when he got closer.

“I brought you here to heal my comrades, not fuck them.” his voice barely above a whiny but stern whisper and loud enough so that Dabi could hear. He sounded cold, this made you feel like you were already on his bad side and your eyes widened in worry. But, you do have a healing quirk? That confirms it. He stands to his full height once more equally as terrifying as before. Still handcuffed to Dabi, you wanted to wipe the tear that rolled down your cheek but you couldn’t.

This time Dabi raised his voice, startling you. “Who cares if we did,” He turns his body, done with this interrogation and ready to drag you back to the bedroom. He looks back at his leader over his shoulder, “You didn’t claim her, so what does it matter?” a small grin appears on his face, if you weren’t already looking at him you wouldn’t have noticed this in the tone of his voice. It almost feels like this is his way of laying claim to you now. First, before Shigaraki can.

“You’ll soon learn that everything here is mine,” Shigaraki replies nonchalantly before walking back over to his spot in the corner booth. It seems like he doesn’t care either way. You have no choice but to follow Dabi back to the bedroom, tripping over the blanket down the hallway once more. Holding the chain of the handcuff to keep the pressure off your wrist, you walk forward looking back, not taking your eyes off Shigaraki. Healing quirk? Everything here is his? Does he think you and Dabi had sex? Great. More confusing than just losing your memory.

When you enter Dabi’s bedroom once more you’re finally hit with the realization that you’re still attached to him. “Can you please unhandcuff me?” you ask flatly, standing in his room feeling small and confused. You’re not guilty of what Shigaraki made it seem like you were and for some reason now you were thinking about actually sleeping with Dabi. Would you? No, No, you shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. “Please,” you beg once more when you notice him just staring at you, this time you gave him a look of defeat.

“C’mon princess, why don’t we just sleep the rest of the day away?” he shrugs, his tone matching his seriousness. He slowly pulls you over to the bed with him using the shackles of the cuffs. You obey tiredly, not wanting or willing to fight him. The exhaustion sets on your face. “Fine, but if you try to run away just know... I’m fast,” Dabi looks at you with a soft gaze, his attempt at getting a laugh from you failed. Instead, he goes to rub your jaw where his boss left a mark last night but you yank away before he gets the chance. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to check your cut from yesterday,” he plays off your rejection so smoothly. He sits on the bed and you’re standing inches away from him. This time you let him grab your face, inspecting your head gash that he fixed up the night before. You have no reason not to trust him at the moment.

“Dabi, I can’t remember anything about who I was or how to use my quirk… I don't feel very useful... What should I do?” your voice comes out much smaller than you meant for it to, worry takes over your face and your eyes wet your cheeks. Dabi gently rubs your temple as you speak to him in such a pitiful way. He’s not trying to be sweet, really he isn’t, but for some reason, he is with you. His intrusive thoughts invade him. He wants to tell you everything will be okay and hold you until you feel better. He’s starting to notice how much of a toll you’re taking on him. That’s enough, he thinks. He jerks his hand away from your temple and pulls away from the physical touch completely. 

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” he tsks. He sounds annoyed now. “If I were in your shoes, I would see this as an opportunity to start over. Completely, with no regrets about the past. What have you always wanted to do?” he asks while staring at the wall. Anything to keep his eyes off of you at this moment. He spreads his legs and leans back in the bed, trying his best to keep his mind preoccupied. Your sniffles come to a stop while you ponder that question. What have you always wanted to do? That should be something written in your DNA, right? Something that would never change, no matter how few memories you have of yourself. While you’re thinking, you let your exhaustion take over and slide down to sit on your knees so that you’re almost positioned between Dabi’s legs. He must’ve noticed this because he releases a big sigh like he had been holding his breath. Dabi is frozen and doesn’t know what your intentions are.

“I’ve always wanted peace. I’m not sure if that’s a dumb answer but I’ve only ever wanted to bring about peace and protect people. The ones that can’t protect themselves anyways,” you say with wide glossy eyes, the passion of your statement seeping from your voice. The rehearsed line left your lips so easily as if it were a memory that was beaten into you without you even knowing. Like something your marketing team would tell you to say in an interview, like something that wasn’t true. After your little peace speech, your eyes meet Dabi’s who were already locked onto you. His gaze softened as if he were staring at a sleeping puppy. If you didn’t know any better you would think it was more in awe than in pity. He notices that he’s been looking at you far too long so he clears his throat and looks away. If his cheeks weren’t already covered in scars and staples, you would’ve gained a small blush from the man.

“You sound like a goody two shoes.” Dabi retorts, slapping his knees while simultaneously getting up off the bed. This signals you to leave the comfort of the floor and your comfortable spot in between his legs. The motion of standing up quickly really hurts your head. Your heartbeat pounds at the sides of your skull. “If we’re not going to go back to sleep then I’m leaving, I have to take care of some things anyways. I’ll bring you to Toga or Twice. They can watch you for the day,” his voice now monotone when he speaks, refusing to look at you. He moves in front of you and a pout crosses your face. He is the only one you can trust right now if you could even call it that. Dabi then reaches over your shoulder to grab the key out of the snake’s cage. You don’t turn around to follow his hand, instead, you watch his body and see that his black T-shirt is all worn out, probably from washing it and hanging it up to dry too many times, leaving the material stretched and wrinkled. The once v-neck of the shirt leaves his chest exposed showing off his equally scared and stapled chest. He is more defined than you thought he would be, his pecs and arms having more muscle than he lets off. Right above his right pec where his shoulder meets his clavicle you notice a large bruise right before the start of his scarred and stapled chest. You feel responsible for this injury but you don’t know why. Your face is burning up the longer you stare at him. In the back of your mind, you have the urge to get closer to him, to close the gap between your bodies. 

Dabi follows your eyes to his chest while uncuffing you from him, “Like I said, we could stay in bed all day princess,” his voice comes out gruff trying to break the tension. 

“Did I do this?” you ignore his comment, slowly raising your uncuffed hand to his chest to rub the bruise with your thumb.

“Yeah”

Dabi stares at you while you stare at the bruise.

“I’m sorry”

“No, don’t sweat it. I was the one kidnapping you, remember? I would’ve hurt me too. Plus, I think I owe you an apology for that gnarly head injury and erasing your memories…”

“No, no, it’s ok” you let a little bit of sadness sneak into your soft smile, “I am part of the league now so I should probably get to know the rest of its members and be a part of this group,” you practically ignored his apology. Part of you does want to crawl in bed with Dabi and just sleep the day away, after all, your head is pounding but it's smarter to start trying to figure out what you’re doing here and remember who you are. Maybe talking to someone other than Dabi will help.

Dabi drops you off at Toga’s room which is surprisingly cute despite how scary she can be. There are posters of boys all over her walls, no heroes though, mostly just boy bands. There are neon lights hanging around the room, a small tv, and even a few dying plants in the corner. There are even cute strawberry sheets on her bed that's covered in stuffed animals. You find her sitting down on the floor next to her bed painting her nails when you enter the room. The man you learned to be Twice is also on the floor next to her laying down on his stomach with both of his feet kicking in the air as he watches her paint her nails. You feel a little awkward especially since Dabi didn’t really introduce you, he sort of just pushed you in and disappeared.

“Oh, Medela! Come sit, I’ll paint your nails,” Toga’s signature creepy smile appears once again on her lips. She stands up and grabs your hand to guide you down to where they were sitting previously. You didn’t really have a choice so you sat down next to twice uncomfortably. Toga aggressively grabs your hand and starts painting your nails pink.

“Medela?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows. 

“Togaaa, we weren’t supposed to tell her that...” Twice looked at her through his mask, “YES WE WERE!” He suddenly yells, causing you to jump back. “Sorry, that was the other me…” he returns to a normal voice and apologizes sweetly. You give him a fake smile and go back to looking at Toga.

She considers him for a moment and decides to look up at you instead, “Yeah, that's your hero name silly! Don’t you remember?” she says in a sing-songy voice moving onto your thumb. 

“No actually, I don’t..” you sigh loudly, more to yourself than to Toga. She doesn’t even seem to care about your answer because she goes on humming to herself as she sloppily paints a bright pink across your bitten nail beds. After your nails are done but still drying, Toga gets up to turn on a few lamps to illuminate her bedroom. It was getting dark outside so there was no more light coming from her window. The league must be on different sleep schedules because the day went by so fast, meaning you and Dabi probably woke up in the late afternoon. Twice left a little bit ago and Toga is staring blankly at the TV watching what looks like a romance anime. As you were staring at your nails, inspecting how poorly she painted them you heard a thud coming from the bar. You look at Toga in fear but she doesn’t even move a muscle, still glued to her TV. When you hear a second thud you get up quickly to go check it out, not really thinking about how earlier in the day the thuds were nothing but Toga and Twice playing tag. Maybe it's curiosity or maybe it's your second nature, but you were already halfway down the hallway when you heard a man’s voice. Something about it seemed familiar, almost like you had heard it in a recording before but you couldn’t remember.

“The word hero has lost all meaning in this society, the world is overrun by fakes and criminals like you who chase petty dreams,” you reach the end of the hall and can no longer tell what the man is saying but then you recognize Shigaraki’s voice so you pull back slightly at the curtain in the doorway between the bar and the hall, trying not to be seen or heard. You can hardly see past the booths, but what you do see is a tall figure with a white mask over his eyes and a long red bandana tied to his forehead pinning down Shigaraki with what looks like an old katana. The katana is going through Shigaraki’s shoulder and this makes your eyes widen, he’s hurting him. 

“It seems we have opposing goals,” Shigaraki’s voice comes out breathy, confirming that he was hurt. He goes to grab the katana with his bare hands making you flinch at the sight. He needs help, he's getting desperate. Maybe you can distract the perpetrator? 

“Stop, you’re killing him!” you bust through the curtain, not really sure what to do from here but you're hoping maybe one of the others will come running if they hear. Shigaraki rolls his head back to look at you through the hand covering his face. The man hovering over him looks up at you and pulls out another bladed weapon. 

“You had a hero here the whole time? I thought you hated heroes as much as I do,” he said to Shigaraki while taking you in, you weren’t in your hero costume but he recognized your face. “Now you’re a tricky one, but alas, you’re still nothing but a false hero,” he runs at you and you have to think quickly so you take off towards the bar, to maybe use the bar top to your advantage. You’re still looking at Shigaraki who realizes what's happening and lays his final finger down on the blade that is still impaled in his chest. The blade that was so deep in his chest cavity dissipates and turns to dust. With wide eyes you finally understand why everyone is so scared of him, he completely dusted the sword. He would’ve been completely fine fighting this strange man by himself. You shouldn’t have intervened. As you’re piecing this puzzle together you jump on top of the bar, the man who is chasing you swings his sword, and you duck, causing him to hit the bar top with his blade, the wood splinters and flies everywhere. He jumps on the counter to get closer to you so you run and jump to a booth across from the bar trying your hardest to get away from him. You don’t have any weapons and this man is trying to kill you, it sucks that you can't remember what your quirk is. A dead end, you’re cornered, and for some reason you picked the corner booth with nowhere else to go. Probably because you were distracted by Shigaraki’s quirk. You contemplate going back the way you came but you would be greeted with the man’s sword and to your left is a wall. Great, you’re going to die because you can’t remember how to fight. What the fuck do you do now? Standing on top of the table prepared to fight back in order to survive as if your fight or flight response is finally kicking in. When you turn around to face the bar, the strange man is positioning his sword, ready to take flight with a jump and go for the kill. Your body tenses and you’re ready for what happens when suddenly Shigaraki steps between the both of you with his back facing you. He’s bleeding out slowly, both of his shoulders are covered in blood and it's starting to soak his shirt. He held his arms out to defend you. The movement of his arms makes him whimper softly in pain. He no longer had the hand covering his face, he abandoned it on the ground where he was laying only moments ago. 

Shigaraki chuckles, his laugh breathless and manic. “Hero Killer Stain,” he moves his palm to position it in front of the man attacking you. “Touch her” he pauses to take a small breath, “and I will destroy you,” he stands up straight and takes a step back closing the gap between him and the table you’re standing on. 

The hero killer steps off the bar and sheaths his sword. “Oh I see, so you’re a traitor to the heroes then, so tell me what cause do you fight for?” he grins, excited about you possibly having the same ideals as him. 

“My cause,” Shigaraki hisses without giving you a moment to respond. He sounds irritated which you’re now learning is probably just a personality trait of his. “I think it's about time you leave, don’t you? Kurogiri, take this guy back…” The warp villain creates a portal in front of the hero killer and he accepts his dismissal.

“Fine. Just don’t get in my way,” he states coldly without looking back at you or Shigaraki.

You take a moment to catch your breath and jump down from the table. Shigaraki hunches over in pain and Kurogiri excuses himself to gather some bandages. “Thanks for not letting him kill me, I thought I was done for,” you shyly cross your arms at your wrists fidgeting with the still-wet paint on your nails that Toga messed up. It dawns on you that you’re now alone with the leader. He doesn’t reply and walks over to the barstool taking a seat at the bar. You don’t want to pry but you feel like you should at least assess his wounds, especially since Kurogiri is taking forever. “Can I see how bad they are?” you speak out to him once more, not actually expecting a verbal response from him this time.

“Do you remember how to use your quirk?” he didn’t look at you when he said this but for once he didn’t sound completely annoyed with you and his voice came out soft. He must really be in pain. 

“No,” you give him a short reply, taking a seat on the barstool to the left of him.

“Then no,” his voice still soft but not as gentle as a moment ago. He takes a sip from his glass that somehow survived the bar fight. He was staring at nothing in particular but was still facing away from you. You watched him shakily take another sip of his dark liquor, missing his mouth a bit causing it to drip down his chin. This is the first time you’ve actually been able to look at him without any distractions. His nose was sharp and his skin was pale and dry. He had a small scar across his lips that paired with a beauty mark to the right of his bottom lip. On top of that, he also had a really defined jawline. His light, gray-blue hair fell perfectly to the sides of his face, only covering parts of his eyes, and framing his face in a way that complimented his cheekbones. In this bar lighting, he almost looked handsome which totally puzzled you. He is not what you expected from the leader of a villainous organization. 

“It’s worth a try, what if I remember at the sight of blood?” you giggle a bit not even meaning to, you’re just so nervous. This elicited a teeny-tiny smile from the big, bad leader. If you weren’t already staring at him you would’ve missed it so you’re so glad you were. Where his smile ends, he had a little dimple at the corner of his mouth. You’re not sure if many people get to see this side of him so it almost felt precious.

“Fine, but it better not sting,” he downs the rest of his liquor and swings his bar stool to finally face you. You’re now sitting face to face which brings heat to your cheeks and you can’t help but avoid eye contact. When he shifts closer your mouth twitches and you’re trying so hard not to appear as nervous as you are. He brings his body even closer to you and pulls down his long sleeve black shirt at the collar, just enough for you to see the front of his stab wound. It was as bad as it looked. You squirm at the thought of the sword stabbing him. 

“Your quirk is honestly really cool,” you comment slightly above a whisper. Then you inspect his chest by bringing your hands to his clavicle and pull at the skin lightly to see how deep it is. He shivers at the touch of your cold hands causing you to pull back a little to be more gentle. 

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you still had your memory,” his whiny tone returns, and his voice cracks a little, revealing his vulnerable side.

“Hold still,” you ignore his previous comment, and instead you really focus on trying to use your quirk. It can’t be that hard, can it? Muscle memory and quirks have to go hand in hand, right? Shigaraki stares at you as you close your eyes and enter a meditative state, curiosity plastered across his face. Your bare hands are still on his shoulder and he isn’t sure how to feel about it. He doesn’t really receive much physical touch and since he doesn’t have the best control over his quirk he usually avoids situations like this. While you’re channeling your quirk he takes this moment to fully take you in. His eyes scan over your entire body, head to toe. You’re still in Toga’s cute yellow shorts with little strawberries on them. To Shigaraki it looks like you don’t have pants on, just an oversized black T-shirt which is probably Dabi's or Twice’s, he thinks. This turns his face red so he quickly retracts his eyes from your thighs. He scans your knees which are covered in bruises. This is probably from your battle with Dabi and his Nomu when he had them kidnap you. Maybe he should feel bad about this, he thinks. He lets himself linger on the thought of you fighting Dabi, angrily with haste spilling from your teeth. For some reason, he can’t imagine you in fight mode, using everything you’ve got on the battlefield especially since you just ran from the fight with Stain. Still thinking about your fight with Dabi, he finds it odd that you guys seem so friendly with each other now. He doesn’t like it but he won’t admit it. His eyes finally reach your face again and it's all scrunched up like you’re really trying to remember how to use your quirk. He finds this humorous and for the second time that night he smiles, it’s small, almost nonexistent but it's still there. Your eyes open and instead of the eyes he’s stared into before, Shigaraki is met with two glowing white irises. Your hair starts floating as if you were suspended under water. Shigaraki freezes as you get closer to his face. You shut your eyes and as if it were instinctual you go to place your forehead on his. He pulls back a little at first but thinks he probably shouldn’t move so he allows you to fall into him. He scrunches up his face thinking it would feel like a headbutt. Instead, he is met with the sweet smell of your lips only a few inches away from his own. You smell like strawberries, he thinks. It almost felt like you paused time making him feel ethereal and calm for the first time in his life. It takes a moment but you heal both of his shoulder wounds. “Woah, I did it,” you practically squeak in excitement. 

He rolls his shoulders back fully testing out the range of motion. His pain was gone, you even managed to heal some of the cuts on his neck from frantically itching earlier that night. “So you did,” he acknowledged your excitement but didn’t go as far as saying thank you. He felt weird after being in such close proximity. “Okay, we’ve had our fun,” Shigaraki stands up and positions his shirt back to normal, “I’m going to bed.” without even as much as a glance at you he starts heading to the back of the bar. 

“Wait!” you shout, trying to stop him. Part of you craves attention that he refuses to give you. You’re not sure why but you chase him. He’s already almost in front of the curtain so when you catch up to him you reach out to grab his wrist. Bad Idea. Shigaraki doesn’t like the sudden physical touch and swings around to grab your neck, once he has you he’s not being careful about laying all five fingers down. You gulp when you remember this is the hand he used to dust Stain’s sword. He still doesn’t trust you. Of course he doesn’t, why would he? Your efforts to heal him were pointless. You’re right back where you started this “relationship” with him, or whatever you want to call it. You’re suspended in the air and losing oxygen quickly. You try to loosen his grip by clawing at his forearms. The way he’s staring at you is different than before though, almost like he doesn’t want to be aggressive with you right now even though he is. That’s gotta mean something, right?

“Shi-Shigaraki, please,” you plead as much as you can with the little amount of oxygen in your lungs. There’s sweat rolling off his forehead, you think that he is really contemplating ending your life right here. 

“Hey, let her go,” a familiar voice was coming from the front door. Dabi. Thank god, he’s back. You’re so thankful you could cry. “Right now or I will light your ass up,” he threatens again when Shigaraki doesn’t immediately let you go. The league's leader tilts his head at you like a curious dog, his angry eyes replaced with wonder when he sees that your eyes are glowing again. Why are your eyes glowing again? When he looks down at his hand around your throat he sees all five of his fingers making contact. He didn’t even mean to almost dust you, he really didn’t. He freezes, this time he listens to Dabi and releases you from his death grip. You drop to your knees and cough until your lungs allow air back into them. While you’re desperately sucking in air, your eyes return to their normal color. Shigaraki doesn’t help you up, instead he turns on his heel and leaves the room through the curtain. 

“She shares a room with Toga from now on.” The leader doesn’t say another word in his exit. Neither you or Dabi acknowledge him either.

“What the hell was that about?” Dabi walks over to you and kneels down to meet your gaze. 

“He doesn’t like being touched I guess,” you retort and your eyes meet his. His eyes look red and there's dried blood below his scars. You wonder what happened to him while he was gone. 

“No, not that... he’s always like that, I mean your eyes,” he looks at you in wonder, “they were glowing,” Dabi must’ve not known who you were as a hero because your quirk came as a surprise to him. 

“Oh, I activated my quirk to heal Shigaraki,” you replied nonchalantly as you dusted your knees off to stand up.

“Does that mean you got your memory back?” he asks lowly while running his hands through his hair. He’s still kneeled on the ground so you’re now standing above him. He looks kind of small at this angle, not like his usual dangerous self.

“No,” you sigh, it was honestly getting quite annoying not being able to remember anything. “My quirk came rushing back when I needed it so I’m hoping my memory does the same soon,” your voice trails off when you watch Dabi rise to his full height. He has a bag in his right hand that’s hidden partially behind his back. “What’s that?” you ask while leaning over to get a better look. He pulls the bag further behind him and hands it to you.

“Ah, ah, ah, it’s a surprise,” he cockily holds his arm out in front of you signaling you to back up so you do. You hold your arms behind your back swaying your feet excited to see what he brought back for you. “Toga didn’t have any more clothes to spare,” he’s taking too long to get to the point and you’re not a super patient person. “I’m not the best at picking out clothing for others but,” he finally hands you the bag and you excitedly shuffle through it trying not to be extremely loud. It was a big black trash bag filled with clothes. Some women's clothes and some were men’s clothing. You’re realizing now he must’ve stolen these, which honestly you didn’t really want to know if they were clean or not. Either way, it was a sweet gesture. 

“Thank you,” you smile sweetly at him and in return he looks away rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Yeah, whatever, don’t mention it,” he takes the bag back from you and throws it over his shoulder. He turns to walk out of the bar and so you follow suit. “I guess no more handcuffed sleepover’s for us princess.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle and continue walking down the hall to Toga’s room. Something about sleeping doesn’t sound too bad after the day you’ve had. You had such a weird encounter with Shigaraki. He could’ve killed you if you didn’t activate your quirk in time. Thinking back to his hands around your neck, you remember the tingling feeling his fingertips left behind. His quirk was working against yours, like a dominance battle to see whose quirk would give in first. You couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of his hands around your neck. Little did you know, Shigaraki couldn’t stop thinking about it either. That was the first time he was nullified by the person he was dusting. There obviously was the time where pro hero Eraser Head nullified his quirk but it was when he was attempting to dust someone else. This was different. He laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. When he couldn’t think about anything else, he pulled out one of hands from behind his head and reached for the ceiling holding it out in front of him. He examined his hand and noticed something by his wrist so he pulled his arm closer to his face, it was a smear of pink nail polish. The same pink nail polish Toga put on your nails earlier in the night. Shigaraki’s face went red but he didn’t try to scrape off the paint. Instead he held his hands over his stomach and drifted to sleep, thinking about your forehead pressed to his.

[anonymousbeefriendfanfics]

Riley

Full Name: Riley

Pronouns: She/They

Fandom: Genshin Impact

When Riley awoke on that fateful day, they could barely breathe, pain radiating throughout her entire body. Weakly, she followed her instinct, crawling out of the wreckage of the spacecraft that had brought them here. Being alive was nothing short of a miracle, but it came at a high cost: her memory.

Unbeknownst to them, Riley was a refugee, fleeing from a world torn apart by war. She had been a good enough mechanic to put together the craft now lying in a crumbled heap, escaping after losing everything she had once held dear. After the crash, however, their memory of the war, of their loved ones, her very home - ceased to exist, lost in the fog. After a few hours of stumbling around this new world, she would find one crucial detail: her name. Riley. It was engraved on the small pocket knife they discovered in one of their pockets. She cried, tracing her fingertips across the word over and over, praying to deities they could no longer remember to regain any other scrap of knowledge. Unfortunately, nothing would come.

The amount of time that passed was uncertain, but eventually, Riley was discovered by a group of hilichurls. Unsure where she was, she attempted to communicate, only to be attacked. One hand instinctively reached to their hip, grasping for a weapon that was no longer there, before clumsily blocking a blow with their arm instead. In her severely weakened state, she was no match whatsoever for these monsters, but fortunately, she wasn't alone.

In a flash, someone else was by their side, blocking a hit aimed towards her face with a beautiful polearm. He fought magnificently, clearing out the monsters before any of them could harm her again. Almost reluctantly, he asked if she was okay, and all she could do was shake her head, trying not to cry.

This is how she met Xiao. Reluctant to leave the injured mortal to get into more danger, he escorted them back to Wangshu Inn, treating their wounds in silence before offering to take them home. She confessed that she had no idea where 'home' was, the story pouring out of her while Xiao listened quietly. In the end, he got them a room in the Inn, explaining that they could stay there until they figured something else out.

Over the next few weeks, Riley recovered from her wounds, but not from the amnesia. Xiao continued checking on them, though he rarely spoke, and the two soon fell into a surprisingly comfortable routine of having dinner together before he left for his nightly patrols. They slowly became friends, almost against his will, and would eventually fall in love. He's extremely hesitant to allow anyone close, but he cannot fight his heart's desire, and fortunately for them both, Riley is immune to his Karma due to not being from Teyvat.

Riley is energetic yet surprisingly soft, especially when Xiao is around. Losing their memory is both a blessing and a curse - she remembers nothing about herself, but she also cannot remember the horrors of war that have left their body scarred. They enjoy making and fixing things, as they once did in their past life.

After begging Xiao to teach her, she masters the bow and arrow, and uses it to defend herself and him. As a descender, she has access to all of the elements in the same way that the Traveler does, though their favorite is Dendro. There's something about working with the essence of life after enduring so much death that is slowly healing part of her soul. They have nightmares frequently, waking up shaking and crying from things they can no longer remember. Fortunately, Xiao is always there when they call for him, and he allows them to cling to him until they calm down.

[fluffysilver]

Flufftober Day 29 - Hey, wake up

Soft sounds disturbed his sleep. The darkness behind his eyes where he drifted, unable to focus on anything, where not even dreams disturbed him. It was a comfortable darkness and he didn’t want to leave it. On the other side was pain and obligation; he’d have to go back eventually but for now… for now it felt good just to rest. 

“Please…”

“...losing… need more…” 

“...focus thy energies…” 

Rika shifted away from the soft voices, but they had pulled him closer into awareness, growing louder. Memory drifted into his grasp and with it the edge of pain. His body; each limb ached, every joint burning with the pain that meant he had pushed himself to the point of collapse, again. Davien was going to spank him. 

The voices faded again, letting him drift back into slumber. Time passed without his supervision or awareness, until the voices came back. Now he could attach names to them. Alphinaud. Urianger. G’raha. Loudest was Alisae - of course she was yelling. She always yelled when she was upset. 

He wasn’t sure what had upset her, but likely if she was upset, and it sounded like the others were too, he should probably get up and find out what was going on. It took something monumental to shake Urianger’s calm, after all. With an effort he opened his eyes, blinking at the unfamiliar view of metal etched with patterns that reminded him of Allegan artifacts. Between the metal and his face were a pair of hands glowing with white healing magic like a glimmering fog in front of him. 

Perspective shifted, and he realized he was laying down, looking up at a ceiling, and the hands were people casting healing spells on him. They tingled over his skin, soothing the aches and pain, though they didn’t do much for the bone deep fatigue. Even healing spells had their limit, and eventually the body demanded its due. 

One hand drew back to be replaced by Alphinaud’s worried gaze. “I think he’s awake. Are you with us, Rika?” 

Hm. Not up to speaking yet, Rika managed a smile for him. From the look on his face, it wasn’t as reassuring as he had hoped, so he managed a single raspy sentence; “Is everyone… all right?” 

“How can you ask us that?” G’raha knelt beside Alphinaud, his red eyes bright with tears, features tight with relief. “Considering how close you came to dying. Again. How can you keep your promise if you do that?” 

Well he had a point there, but it wasn’t like he’d really had a choice.

“You put on quite the show, my friend,” Estinien added as he stepped closer, fond smile softening his features. 

Rika smiled a little as Y’Shtola and then Thancred scolded him; he didn’t need Thancred to tell him that it came from a place of love. He’d yell at them for being hypocrites later, when he’d recovered. Gods, they were mad at him when they had all sacrificed themselves to get him to the nest of the Endsinger? He’d sent them back here because he couldn’t bear to see them die, not when he had just used Venat’s last gift to him to bring them back. 

“We did what we could for thee, but considering the extent of thy injuries, I would recommend further repose.” Urianger said then. “How is the pain?” 

Rika considered that, then shifted and sat up, steading himself on his hands as a wave of dizziness washed over him, and several mostly healed injuries decided to protest. Blood loss - he needed a good drink and some food, and a week’s worth of sleep. But he smiled at the healer and nodded once. He’d live. 

Urianger smiled back. “That is gladdening.” 

“Gladdening!” Alisae exploded. “There is nothing ‘gladdening’ about this! You…” She was almost sputtering with rage, even as tears slid down her cheeks. “When Meteion appeared she said you were right behind her! And then you didn’t come, and when you do deign to appear you’re an ilm from death!” 

Rika’s lips twitched into a small smile and he placed a hand on her soft white hair. “Just remember that the next time you blithely decide you’re going to give your life for me.” His gaze swept around, including all of the Scions in that. 

After a moment Alphinaud cleared his throat. “If you’re feeling up to it, you might like to see where we are. We got the ship moving while you were, ah, indisposed.” 

“We’re home already?” he asked, then shifted with a grimace. His legs were unhappy, but he could move. With a nod, he let Alphinaud pull him to his feet, and paced slowly over to the window, watching it open to reveal the bright blue sky of Aetherys. Home. 

“I think we’re in range now,” one of the Loporrits reported. 

“Excellent. I’ll announce that we’re back.” Thancred replied and put a hand to his ear to activate the linkpearl there. “You’d better be ready,” he added to Rika, who winced. 

“Just as long as they don’t put together a parade.” The congratulations were going to be rough enough.  Maybe he could sneak away; he had his ninja soulstone…

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Benevolence Blythe Species: Vampire Occupation: Owner of the Columbus Theatre Age: 229 Years Old (Looks about 20) Played By: Chan Face Claim: Chandler Kinney

"Life's a stage, you just need to know the right lines."

TW: Parental death, suicidal ideation

Benevolence’s mother was an actress. She married the owner of a playhouse, a well-off man who had fallen for her talent and charm, and any time a troupe came through to perform she helped with costumes and stage dressings. She was fully invested in the theatre, and when her daughter was born she made sure to involve her as well. Benevolence could sew before she could fully walk, and she could speak prose by the age most children were learning to speak full sentences. She had the voice of an angel, too, and loved to join her mother dancing whenever music was abound.

They were all very close, the Blythe family. They ran the playhouse with loving and steady hands, and Benevolence’s parents raised her with the same mindset. But it all seemed to fall apart when Benevolence was ten. That was when her mother got sick. It was common, really, for someone to fall ill. It was less common for someone to get better. They said goodbye to her on a cold, windy November afternoon, and Benevolence never quite liked the cold after that. She and her father tried their best to pick themselves back up after that, relying on each other and putting their all into running the playhouse. And things did get better. Business flourished, and they were happy again.

Of course, not all good things last. As if cursed with misfortune, Benevolence began to show signs of similar illness at the age of nineteen, and quickly fell bedridden. She was feverish, barely able to recognise her father when he came to her side, and he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t lose her too. So he searched for something to cure her, anything. Anything. And he found it. A stranger, hearing his plight at the tavern one night, told him he could help. He could heal his daughter, bring her back to her senses, and make sure she wouldn’t die. Make sure no silly little illness could ever kill her. And Benevolence’s father took him at his word, paid him handsomely, too.

But what he didn’t know was what this cure would turn his daughter into. When the man had left, he had rushed to his daughter’s side, terrified to see her sweating and flushed with fever, blood dripping from her shoulder. He was worried she would waste away before his very eyes, but over the night she seemed to recover, remarkably quickly, and by morning she was sleeping peacefully. It wasn’t until he pulled her curtains open to let in the light that he realized something had gone horribly wrong. When the light hit her, she hissed, recoiling as the sun burned her skin. He shut them quickly, running to her aid, only to see her eyes open to a deep bloody red.

That was the last time Benevolence saw her father. That’s the way she liked to put it. The last time she saw him. She didn’t like to imagine the truth, the gorey details of what occurred the first time she opened her eyes in her new form. But when she had finally come to, she bid her father farewell, bid the playhouse adieu, and left. It took a long time to find her way, and a long time to find out what she was and how to survive. She found others like herself eventually, and others who lived in the shadows like them. It was an entirely new world with new rules to learn, all while hiding who she now truly was. But she had always been a good actress, and she found it helped to get people to do as she wished. It was easy to lure in her prey, and easier still to walk among them. But easy never made it feel right.

Benevolence never stayed in one place long. She knew she would be found out eventually, a young girl staying young forever, so she would flit from place to place, country to country. The guilt followed her behind like a stain, marring her memories with the faces of those she had killed. It weighed on her heart, enough to make it feel like it was aching in her chest. She even tried to stop feeding, but that only served to drive her into a frenzy where more people got hurt. So she fed responsibly. Tried to find the worst person around, tried to play judge and jury and executioner. And it helped, somewhat. But she could still see the blood on her hands even when they were clean.

So the years ticked by. The world moved on around her as she stopped time for someone else. And someone else. And someone else. Until finally she couldn’t remain numb to it anymore. She was tired, and it was time to end it. But she couldn’t just… stop. She’d tried, and nothing good had come of it. So she needed someone else to do it for her. Luckily, she had traveled throughout the world, and she knew the corners where things hid away. There was a town, unassuming, in America. Wicked’s Rest. And maybe there she could find someone to do just that.

Put this wicked thing to rest.

Character Facts:

Personality: Creative, elegant, passionate, deceptive, regretful, calculating

Growing up in the world of Theatre, she grew up around love in many forms. She herself is pretty open to who she spends her time with, as long as they can keep her entertained.

While she watched the classics in her childhood, she loves modern performing arts. Her favorite play is Finding Neverland. She’s also fond of The Producers.

She speaks many languages, as her travels took her across the world, but speaks with an antiquated English accent.

She hates the cold, and will always be bundled up in chilly weather despite the fact that it barely affects her.

She had a brief stint on Broadway in the late 60s.