#better equipped to handle it and THIS ONE WAS STILL GOOD AND FUN except for the last scene. like the literal very last scene.

[twig---verginix]

swear to god i'm just gonna stop watching the endings to shows i like. good shows need to get cancelled on cliffhangers forever

[kate-komics]

Stranger Things Fantasy AU

Eddie the Banished

Pairing: Steddie (King Steve x Eddie the Banished/Demon Eddie)

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: M

Co-Author (my beloved) @sosarahtonin

Summary: The low-ranking knight Steve Harrington was proclaimed king of the land by a prophecy from the Gods... Or so that is what was said. A reluctant ruler takes on the role gifted to him by black magic and the corrupted heart of his ex-lover. Now, after years, the king seeks Eddie’s help once again.

Warnings: Like, so much angst. ✨ man pain✨ Mentions of violence and wounds (No descriptions) Swearing. Accusations of manipulation. I think that's it??

Authors' Note: We've been writing dumb little stories together for over a decade... and now we're sharing one. IDK if we're good at this or not but any feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome... just please be nice. This was very fun to write and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as we did writing it.

Only got the one part written and planned but if people like it we'll continue with a few parts. Let's do this! Cover/ Banner by me! More fantasy AU art linked at the end of the story!

🖤

The cave reeked of things long forgotten. The very essence of death made the air thick and heavy. He held back a gag with each breath, but still Steve continued on into the belly of the mountain. His left hand held a blazing torch and his right gripped the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it at any moment. Many feared what dwelled in this cave, and rightfully so. Steve knew better than to fear him, but he was wise enough to know he couldn’t be trusted. He’d lost Steve’s trust long ago.

Eddie.

Eddie the Banished. Eddie the demon. Eddie the savior, he was called by some. In a way, they were right to call him a savior. This kingdom would very well be ash if Eddie hadn't done what he’d done. If he hadn’t turned himself into a monster to save them all. 

It had been 2 years since they’d defeated Vecna. Two years since Steve was proclaimed the new King. Two years since Steve had seen Eddie last. 

Steve had merely been a low-ranking knight when they first met. Eddie, a training alchemist that rarely left the castle's dungeon. Their introduction, Steve recalled, hadn’t been memorable except for the fact that it had been him. Their brief handshake wouldn’t have stood out to him if it hadn’t been for intricate silver rings, sparkling brown eyes, and that sly smirk that never seemed to leave Eddie’s face for long. It hadn’t been a hardship for Steve to work closely with the alchemist as they tried to take down the evil that spilled out of the Upside Down. Demogorgans and demodogs plagued the lands. Steve had felt equipped to handle those threats- his mace and his sword never far from his side- but when they encountered the master of those creatures, the Shadow-Slinger, Steve had been far out of his depth. How could you defend against an evil that only attacked in the mind? Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately if you knew what was to come, Eddie had an idea.

Steve knew that he was useless assisting Eddie in his labs in the dungeon, but Eddie never seemed to mind if the charged looks and lingering touches they shared indicated anything. In those days even as they had all felt the noose of Vecna’s magic tighten around their necks, Steve couldn’t remember being happier than watching Eddie work tingling when the magician spared him a heated glance over his equipment.

The battle, in the end, had been so much more bizarre than Steve could have predicted. Three victims were taken by Vecna but pinned on Eddie, frothing the kingdom into a literal witch hunt. Steve and the party instantly moved to hide the alchemist, knowing him to be innocent. If Steve’s reasons for keeping Eddie safe expanded beyond the battle or their shared friendship with Dustin, well… no one but Steve needed to know that. In hiding, Eddie had put the finishing touches on his plan to defeat Vecna.

Nothing could have prepared them for what Eddie was willing to do. In fighting Vecna, Eddie had pushed himself far beyond what anyone thought he was capable of. The guilt still gnawed at Steve. He had seen the signs and did nothing, the idea of victory blinding him to what was happening to his friend. Something magnificent and horrible.

Eddie dabbled in the black magics of the realm. Long since forbidden practices thought to have come from the Upsidedown itself. No one knew how he got them and frankly no one cared, because of the awe-inspiring power those dark spells held. Eddie claimed this could be the only way to end it all. Trusting Eddie completely, Steve had enabled his descent into darkness.

They became unstoppable with Eddie’s ever growing power. He’d become so much more than a simple alchemist now, fighting an entire army of demonic bats alone while the others burned Vecna alive. Once the deed was done, Steve, Nancy, and Robin returned to the gate. The now completely quiet battlefield blanketed with the dead bodies of bats and various other demo-beasts. In the very center, an unfamiliar haunting figure stood, stretching out tattered wings. Steve remembers the numbness with which he’d drawn his sword- weary that there was yet another enemy in this godforsaken dimension.

“Wait!” Dustin had rushed to Steve’s side, yanking his arm. The young dwarf’s strength alone wouldn’t have stopped him, however, the pain on Dustin’s face gave Steve pause. “It’s him. It’s him. He…” Dustin had trailed off.

Steve looked at the ominous figure again. He dropped his sword when his eyes met Eddie’s. He’d gone too far. He’d pushed himself over the edge and was forever changed by the dreaded magic that saved them. Massive wings sprouted from his back. Small black horns now adorned his forehead and his hands lengthened into claws. A monster. Eddie collapses on the battlefield, joining his victims. Steve’s stomach had twisted sharply with guilt. He’d helped his friend become this. 

Gathering the fallen hero in his arms, Steve ignored the voice in the back of his head warning him that Eddie was dangerous now. No matter what he looked like now, Steve believed that Eddie was still himself underneath it all.

Steve had carried him back to the castle, the party hiding him deep within its walls. For weeks they nursed him back to health, changed his bandages, and brought him food. He had saved them all, he deserved to live. Once Eddie could finally speak he swore to never touch the black magics again, not that it would change anything. He could never see the light of day again, he was sentenced to hiding in the darkest parts of the castle, his eyes unable to handle the light.

Selfishly, Steve had clung to Eddie while he was forced to hide. Finally being able to make good on all of those charged looks. Steve had pretended not to notice Eddie’s increasing restlessness in his forced confinement, longing to be in his company without the threat of the Upside Down looming over them, to touch him the way he’d wanted for so long.

The months began to wear on, leaving Eddie despondent. That was yet another juncture where Steve had failed Eddie again, unable to give him purpose in his existence, unable to be enough to keep him from the darkness he was shrouded in.

Max had lost her sight and use of her legs in the battle. After a late-night visit from Eddie, she’d made a miraculous recovery. Most of the party chose to believe it was a miracle, but Steve saw past the joy. In his fear for Eddie, he had lashed out at him. “Another failure” the guilt never failed to remind him, remembering the way he’d yelled at Eddie for daring to touch the dreaded dark magic again. Even if was to do good, it always came at a cost.

The next morning King Kline gathered nearly the entire kingdom to the castle courtyard and proclaimed that he’d had a heavenly vision that told him to hand down his title to his bravest knight, Steve Harrington. Proclaiming this was the god's will, he placed the crown onto Steve’s head and then threw himself off the six-story high balcony into the crowd. 

Despite the oddity and horror of the situation, no one questioned the late King’s decision or subsequent death. Steve remained numb and emotionless as he spent the day being tossed around and prayed over. The prophesied king, they called him. Like he was some kind of blessing. Barely 20 years old and now the ruler of thousands.

Eddie seemed to have left the parties' minds untouched as they shared the same look of horror Steve did when he briefly caught their eye. He stood alone in the king's chambers, his chambers, that night.

Eddie found his way there through the balcony.

“Congratulations, your majesty,” the winged man spoke, his voice more gravelly and deep than ever before. It had sent shivers down Steve’s spine. 

“What did you do?” is all Steve’s voice had shaken, looking at his lover. Whatever spell he cast had done more damage to him. The darkest shade of black Steve had ever seen covered Eddie's fingers and crept up his arms. His eyes were glossy and pale. His horns had doubled in size and his ears now peeked out of his wild hair at a point.  He didn’t look like himself anymore, even his movements which used to be lithe if not erratic now looked like his limbs were being yanked along by unseen strings. Like something was driving Eddie’s body.

“I gave us a future,” Eddie takes a step towards him. Steve flinches at the gesture. “All of us. We deserve it. I won’t have to hide anymore. We won’t have to hide.”

Steve removed the crown and let it fall to the floor, “I-I don’t want this. Eddie…”

He didn’t want this responsibility. He never would have wished for this. He was happy to serve, to have his freedom. To keep his friends safe. To keep Eddie safe. He wasn’t a king. He didn’t know how to be a ruler. He didn’t want to be.

The golden crown rolled to Eddie’s feet. Twitching, Eddie picked it up, the metal creaking under his inhuman grasp, “I-I thought you’d be happy?”

“Happy?!” Steve’s jaw dropped, incredulous, “Eddie this is insane! You promised you wouldn’t ever touch that magic again. Just look at what it's done to you! What it’s cost you!”

“What it’s done to me?” The shadows grew around Eddie's feet, “So now you finally see me as a monster? I help you, I give you gifts no mortal man could and you say you don’t want them. This magic has made me more than I could ever have been before. I’m a hero. This kingdom should be bowing at my feet.”

“Eddie, please,” Steve dared to take a step toward the winged creature. The shadows exploded out from under him. Steve scrambled back in fear.

Eddie’s rage was over as soon as it began, the dark magic retreating back to the shadows. Regret painted his face as he trembled in horror at what he’d just done. What side of himself took over. 

“Steve I-” He started but couldn’t bring himself to finish. The anguish is so clear in his glossy eyes. Steve wanted to hold him. Tell him they’ll figure this out. That everything will be okay, but the blinding panic held him. Yet another failure 

Steve was suddenly thrown across the room by the thrust of Eddie’s wings, then, silence. Robin and Dustin had rushed into the room at the sound of crashing to see their new king cowering and crying in the corner. What had he done? His best friends stay in his room that night and he tells them everything. They don’t see Eddie for the next week. They start to believe they may never see him again.

They can’t undo what Eddie’s done, but they can make the best of it.

If Steve was cursed to rule, then he wouldn’t do so alone. Over the next weeks, Robin and Joyce are named his chief advisors. Nancy is made Co-Captain of the guard alongside Hopper. Mike and Lucas start training for the top lieutenant positions of the knights. El was given the best mages and sorcerers to help her further hone her power and would eventually become high sorceress. She earned the title in less than 2 months. Both Jonathan and Erica claimed they wanted no fancy titles or positions, but agreed to be Steve’s eyes and ears amongst the community. A fitting job for the rouges. Will and Dustin immediately begin alchemy and spell training and Max is proclaimed his next hire. Surrounded by his friends Steve would protect this kingdom from what they caused, just like he always had before.  

It had been three months into Steve’s rule that he had seen Eddie again.

He’d been alone in his chambers, he still hadn't been used to the massive cold room. Steve thought that he still wasn’t used to the cavernous gloom even now. Steve had ended up inviting Robin to spend the night more often than not, finding comfort in each other in the vast expanse of the bed. Though now it had been happening less and less since she’d been seeing the palace seamstress, leaving him to stew with his thoughts alone.

There was only one person Steve truly wanted to share his bed with. No matter how foolish Steve had felt, he’d left the balcony doors open for him. Hoping against hope that he’d see that familiar face again.

Steve’s heart clenched as he remembered the night Eddie had appeared on the balcony, curtains billowing around him. He was wearing tattered black robes, scars visible between the torn and threadbare fabric. The moonlight made Eddie look more ethereal in his changed form.

“Eddie, oh my god!” Steve had rushed to him. He embraced him without hesitation, ignoring the fear that still lingered from their last encounter. Eddie did not hug him back, standing completely still. He was unnaturally cold. It was mid-summer and his skin felt like ice. Steve took a step back, Eddie’s gaze did not meet his eye. “Eddie?” Steve tried, his heart dropping into his stomach like it was suddenly made of lead.

“Enjoying your gifts?” the dark creature says. His tone fleeting and almost painful.

“Eddie, I don’t-” Steve reaches out again. Eddie flinches away from his touch, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… said those things. I was angry. I’m still angry, but you have to understand what this did. You changed my life, all of our lives without regard for how we felt or what it would do to you.”

“You never asked me to stop before,” Eddie finally looks him in the eye, “I gave everything to fight Vecna, without question. Everything.”  Fuck, if that didn’t make his guts twist with guilt, as if the past three months his insides hadn’t been positively squirming with unending guilt for the last three months. 

“I know you did. No words can express how grateful we all are but this?” Steve holds his hands out to gesture to the massive room, “This is absolute madness. I wanted all of us to be happy, I wanted you to be happy but-”

“You wanted me to be happy?” Eddie scoffed, “Living in those dark dungeons for months was hell, hiding away like a leper. You weren’t blind. You saw my pain and did nothing.” 

Hot tears began to prick at his eyes, “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have-”

“You used me.” Eddie hissed, “You used me for your own… selfish purposes. You used me to get this power. You knew those spells, all that knowledge, was eating away at my mind Yearning to be used. You knew I could give you this and slithered your way into my mind. My heart.”

The tears in his eyes had begun to fall in earnest, then. He had been nearly light headed at the accusation. Steve had thought he was going to be sick. Eddie thought that his love had been bullshit too?  “Eddie, I would never-” He began to croak out.

“And I let you in. All of you. You’re all guilty.” Steve sees the shadows at Eddie’s feet start to shake again. He glanced to the corner of the room where his sword lay, then instantly feeling horrible for even considering it.

“We love you. Henderson misses you. I-” Steve bit his own tongue to keep from confessing that now that he knew how unwanted it was, “What’s done is done. We can move forward like we always have. Please, come back. Come home.” 

“This is not my home.” Eddie’s voice was a distorted growl, the dark magic dancing around him. 

Steve hadn’t been sure if it’s simply for show or if Eddie would actually use his power on him. Was more sure that Eddie would use it on him now, creeping through the labyrinth. “You’re right, what I have done can not be undone. I would tell the whole realm of your hypocrisy if the spell did not forbid me to speak of it. Regardless, I will make your rule hell.” 

“Why not kill me now?” Steve had asked, arms limp by his sides.

“Consider it a gift for times now passed,” Eddie answered, his voice still a distorted growl, “And we would much rather delight in watching you suffer.”

Steve pauses at Eddie’s phrasing, “We?”

“Take your kingdom and rule as you see fit, mighty King Steve,” Eddie begins to hover, “I will assure it knows no peace. You will live with yet another failure looming over you forever.” A blinding flash then, nothing. Only a plume of smoke was left in Eddie’s wake. Steve sat in silence for a moment, tears still streaking down his face. What evil was now brought into this land? An evil he could have prevented if he weren’t so selfish. If he weren’t so blind. He’d sunk onto the ground, driving the heels of his hands into his eyes as he tried to gasp around the knot in his throat. 

As the months went on the rumors started to reach his ear. The tales of a winged creature terrorizing farmers, starting fires, possessing people. It was child’s play for what Eddie was capable of. They all knew he was toying with them. Building up to something bigger. 

And now, 2 years later, it had.

Just three days ago, dozens of children vanished overnight. This was beyond any of the games Eddie had played before and Steve now sought to end it, once and for all. Upon Dustin and Will’s assessment, they found this wasn’t Eddie’s magic. All spells bore a seal only those trained in the magic arts could find. 

They found the seal of Vecna plastered across the town.

As they reported their findings to Steve, he’d had to sprint away to dry heave as the implications of the information hit him. He left for the Banished cave the next morning. Eddie was seen coming and going from this mountain and now Steve had finally come to face him. Either to finally kill him or be killed. Not that killing Eddie wouldn’t kill Steve as well. Either way Steve didn’t see himself coming out of this cave.

The light of day had long since disappeared now that the King was in the belly of the mountain.

“My, my, what a pleasant surprise this is,” a familiar voice reverberates off the walls and into Steve’s very being, breaking him out of his memories . Eddie the Banished, “The King of the realm has chosen to grace me with his presence.”

“Show yourself!” Steve musters as much strength as he can into his voice despite the chill that runs down his spine.

The sound of massive wings echoes throughout the cave. Steve can’t pinpoint where they’re coming from. He grips his sword tighter.

“How was it that you became King again, Sir Harrington?” Eddie mocks, “It was professed by the gods? Which gods?”

“Enough games, Eddie!” Steve screams blindly into the darkness. Steve didn’t have the heart to let this continue, his grim task hanging on his shoulders like an anchor. Another flap of wings, followed by footsteps. Eddie crept into the light thrown by Steve’s torch. 

Glowing red runes arch across his bare chest and shoulders. His skin has paled to nearly a faint gray and his hair is even more wild than it had been before. His eyes are glossed over with a glowing yellow. Despite it all, he’s still as beautiful as Steve remembers.

“Have you come to kill me?” Eddie halts a few feet away from Steve.

“If I must.” Steve has to force his hand holding the torch to keep from trembling. 

Eddie howls out an obnoxious laugh, “That’s cute.” He starts to circle Steve. “You look well, your highness.”

I miss you

“Can’t say the same for you,” Steve stays on his toes. The air feels strangely calm now that Eddie is in sight. 

A devilish smile spreads across the demon's face, “So feisty, Just how I remember. Do you think about those nights, Stephen? About me?” 

He does. Constantly, “Never.”

“Truth be told, I expected you here sooner.” The demon takes a few steps closer, “I remember those nights in the castle dungeon. Just as lonely as this new dungeon. Have you come to make my new imprisonment a little more bearable, your majesty?”

His tone is all wrong. He can’t fight the shiver that runs down his spine, Not Eddie, Not Eddie blasts through his brain like a trumpet. There was a time when the obvious come on would have melted him, now he feels frozen like a statue. “I’m here on business. Nothing more.” he simply says. 

“A king has business with the likes of me?” Eddie holds his hand to his chest with an enthused expression, “You make me blush. Such an honor.” He looks like Eddie, uses the same scathing humor Eddie did but it’s twisted now. The way his smile bares too many teeth sends dread right to the pit of his stomach

“Shut up.”

He’s so close now, less than an arm’s reach. Steve couldn’t let him drone on and stall more. He came here for a reason beyond his own guilt.

“Three days ago, over a dozen children were stolen from the capitol and local villages.” It’s all he says. It’s all he needs to say.

The demon take’s pause. Steve can’t deny he sees genuine confusion in Eddie’s expression. It gives him a fleeting glimpse of hope.

“Children?” Eddie looks him in the eye. 

“The kidnapped kids. There were traces of black magic from where they had been taken.” Steve’s voice was stilted, cautious.

Eddie’s brow furrowed at the information, the manic energy seeming to sluff off of his shoulders for a moment before a frown creased his brow.

“Black magic, huh? So you think it had to be me?!” Eddie spat before scoffing, “Of course you would! Of course you’d think that I’d try to pull the same shit as fucking Vecna.”

Steve, unthinkingly, took a step back. Disarmed yet wary.

“If it wasn’t you then who did it?” If he had the presence of mind to notice, he would cringed at the hope in his tone.

“Oh, I don’t know Steve,” Steve couldn’t help but flinch at the venom that dripped on his own name from Eddie’s mouth, “What other evil magic users that have a history of kidnapping kids do you know?”

Steve still refused to believe it.

“He’s gone! We-”

“We never knew for sure that he was gone. We hoped. Guess we were wrong.” Eddie, suddenly looking exhausted, leaned against a wall.

Steve knew he shouldn’t trust him. He knew that the Eddie before him wasn’t the same one he once knew but once again he was helpless against him.

“I’m sorry. ” He muttered, voice hoarse. It’s all he can really think to say. 

I’m sorry. For all of it.

Eddie peered at him from the wall, a slow mean grin contorted his face, energy seeming to seep back into him as he cackled cruelly.

“All is forgiven then! King Steve is sorry.” Eddie jeered mockingly. “You don’t know what sorry fucking is.”

Steve opens his mouth to respond but before a word can escape him, Eddie is on him, pinning him to the wall. The torch falls to the ground, still lit.

“Don’t you dare compare me to him,” Eddie growls, his hand on Steve’s throat. “I’m not him. I’m just what you made me. All of you.”

Steve doesn’t move to fight back. How could he? Eddie was right. What was an apology going to do now, after everything? 

“You really think I’d steal people’s children, Steve?” Eddie asks again, the sadness evident in his tone, “Who have I ever killed since I left? Who have I ever stolen or hurt?”

Eddie was right again, and Steve knew it. Eddie was mischievous. A bad story told to children at night but he wasn’t a killer. He wanted people to fear him, and they did. Even with all the fires and terror, no one was killed. Hardly anyone was hurt. Desperate cries for attention were all his actions were. Unanswered cries.

“The late King, for one.” Steve counters.

“Yes, I’m sure the people miss their old ruthless ruler. The slimy old man went down the way he deserved,” Eddie takes a seat on a nearby rock, “But you, dear Steve, I hear they love you. Turns out I was right.”

Steve wasn’t sure if the kingdom so much loved him as they were just happy to have a leader that would finally take action after decades of a lethargic, indifferent king. He couldn’t have achieved half of his goals without the help of his friends. Maybe Steve should tell Eddie about everything that’s changed with them? He could tell him how proud he is of the kids and how much they’ve grown. How they took on their new roles with such enthusiasm. He could tell him how much Dustin missed him despite everything. 

He could tell Eddie that. 

“Steve,” Eddie pulls him back to reality again, “There are forces at work that you’ll never understand.”

“What do you mean?” Steve stalks closer. 

“I do.” A brief flash of sorrow flashes over Eddie’s features, “I understand them now. Don’t dig any further. Go, protect your kingdom.”

Before Steve can get another word out, a flash of flames overtakes his vision, then, he’s outside. He stands at the mouth of the cave again. Alone. Sick and disoriented, he braces himself against the rocks. He takes a moment to gather himself before trying to enter the darkness again but is stopped by an invisible force. Eddie is keeping him out. 

The king screams into the darkness to no avail. He collapses feeling foolish again, as if his pleading cries would actually work. Eddie may not have been the cause of this mass kidnapping but he knew something. Steve needed more answers and the only one who had them was warding him away.

Steve’s not sure how long he stands at the mouth of that lonely cave before he mounts his horse again. It’s nearly half a day's ride back to the castle, and he has people to protect. 

🖤

Fantasy AU Art:

Concept Designs

In the Cave and on the Battle field

[knifesxedge]

stuck in funpoison world rn and you are The funpoison guy to me so please.. any spare funpoison thoughts for the poor?? 🥺

WHEE i’m honored!! and YES i would love to talk about them ❤️❤️❤️

FIRST AND FOREMOST i’ve been rewatching the mandalorian so i’ve been thinking about the fab four mandos au again which means that i’ve been considering mando’a again which MEANS i’ve been thinking about funpoison + “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum” (“i love you” in mando’a, literal translation “i will know you forever”). AUGH AUGH AUGH AUGH AUGH AUGH. they are SOOOOOOO.

in unrelated thoughts, stream of consciousness style. they love each other SO much like before they’ve started dating kobra likes to make fun of poison because they will straight up just Stare at ghoul with this really big goofy smile just SO “anything you say, baby” but he also makes fun of ghoul because he’s always making excuses to touch them, to brush hair behind their ears and clean up their makeup for them and squeeze their hand. once they’ve started dating they’re SO shy with being affectionate around each other just because it’s so new but poison really loves being held and ghoul makes them feel safe so it’s not uncommon to see them curled up together on the couch with their hands wound together. and ghoul will blush and grin and roll his eyes whenever jet or kobra walk by but just sweep poison’s hair out of their face and tuck them a little closer.

ghoul likes to say they’re soulmates not because their love story lacked any hardship or was fairytale perfect from the beginning but because it WASN’T. and even though it wasn’t perfect, because life isn’t perfect, they kept running into each other. their lives kept meeting and intertwining for better or for worse. and ultimately what came of that was them both gaining an understanding of each other that blossomed into friendship that then slowly turned into being in love with each other. because they’d seen of the worst of each other right from the start and still ultimately said “you’re the one that i want”. for ghoul it means that the witch set their feet on a path towards each other, for poison, who doesn’t believe in the witch and barely believes in the idea of a higher power at all, it feels like maybe they could believe in destiny if nothing else.

oooohhh my god. i do not use tiktok so forgive me if i’m getting the source wrong but the one adventure time clip that’s like “you were a wonderful experience”/“you were everything”. in terms of personal flaws, poison is not necessarily always 100% healthily attached to their loved ones and i honestly think that ghoul’s death ends up being a kind of world-shattering life-altering event for them because he WAS everything. it’s like sometimes they don’t even know how to breathe without him. between the two, ghoul would have been better equipped to deal with poison’s death than poison was for ghoul’s not because he didn’t love them completely or because it wouldn’t have meant as much to him but because ghoul has been dealing with death of his loved ones from a very young age. it’s part of why he became so spiritual, because he let that belief that he would see his loved ones again, that they were safe and protected in their afterlife, be a comfort. poison doesn’t have that, and has never dealt with the death of someone so close to them before in a meaningful way. so it kind of breaks something in them. they don’t handle it very well in any sense.

on a less serious note i think ghoul loves to take poison dancing because it’s one of the only times that they’ll let their mask come off in public. they love to dance, they’re not fantastic at it, and unlike other times where they’ll feign disinterest in a skill if they know they aren’t good at it to save face publicly, if ghoul asks them to dance they’ll do it and they will honestly not focus on anyone else except for him. ghoul likes seeing them when they’re sweaty and breathless and happy and not caring if their makeup is running or if they look silly or how their clothes cling to their body. so a lot of date nights end up being “hey, there’s a band performing at this bar tonight” or “want to go to this party in zone two?” or “the roller rink is having a disco night on friday, want to go?” in fact, i’ve mentioned it before but their first official date is a couples’ night at the zones’ premier roller rink, Mega Moon’s, which used to be a lesbian bar before the wars and now is a locale for all sorts of folks but mostly LGBTQ-oriented :]

another thing i’ve mentioned before but ghoul loves to cook and party is not so great at it. HOWEVER, party DOES like to bake, though that’s not as feasible always in the zones. on the rare chance they get the opportunity though, they’ll get ghoul to help them — their excuse always being that they could use the extra hands but the real reason being so they can hang out together (and steal sugary kisses). i think their favorite thing to make is cookies but brownies are a close favorite just because those are GHOUL’S favorite & he’s written down his grandmother’s brownie recipe which is a hot commodity in the diner.

OH AND I HAVE TOUCHED ON THIS BEFORE but i don’t think i ever properly mentioned that they’re sun and moon coded. TO ME. more specifically day and night coded. i try to push that personal agenda with my writing when i can. when the day met the night……….

i think that’s all i have for you tonight. feel free to put a quarter in another time and see what i have to say then 👍

[ghostly-shenanigans-in-progress]

BNHA X DP Crossover HCs

After the long wait and finals, here are my ideas for all the quirks/occupations and other concepts I devised for the DP characters in the BNHA universe. This was just for fun and for inspiration towards others interested in this crossover au in general. 

Tagging the people that were looking forward to this post based on the replies: @qoinq-qhost, @floralflowerpower, @tgfangirl4eva @goodfish-bowl, @whitehairglowinggreeneyedcrush and more. 

Anyways, happy reading, folks!

Mr. Lancer

Hero name: Mr. Scholastic

Quirk: Bookworm

Involves his iconic usage of literature titles & quotes for swears to become abilities corresponding to the novel’s contents/themes. Course, he is limited to only books he has read and can quote accurately. Additionally, his voice gets very raspy past two or three quotes as well.

Occupation: Homeroom Teacher for Class 1- A; He’s very dedicated to his new students and teaching the fundamentals of being a pro hero and more! Course, I don’t think his chamomile tea with a wedge of lemon is enough to help him relax from his students (*cough* Danny, Tucker and Poindexter) from their antics at times. 

Danny

Hero name: Phantom 

Quirk: Ghost core (Ok, @coffeecakecafe had the best name for this one gotta give credit here)

Able to do anything a ghost is perceived to do. Go through walls, disappear and fly. This is a one of a kind quirk as it was obtained from Danny’s old quirk being altered by a machine his parents made that would repurpose/alter an individual’s quirk based on their past family members' own metahuman genetics.

Danny is doing his best and trying to understand his new quirk without causing too much attention to himself while doing so but it seems like its been doing the opposite as of late. Thankfully, he won’t be doing it alone with all his classmates around to help him!

Sam

Hero Name: Black Dahlia 

Quirk: Overgrown 

Able to create any plant that she knows the biological makeup and content of in almost any environment. However, it is important for her to drink lots of nutrient rich water and take in enough sun if she plans to create larger versions of these plants.

Tucker

Hero name: Tech Master

Quirk: Tech Core

Located on his chest/heart area is a special energy core capable of powering electronics at a rate faster than anything made-man could ever hope to achieve. As a kid, Tucker would tinker away in his family’s garage on a suit that would harness his power to the fullest extent and lead a new era of support tech in the hero world.

Valerie

Hero name: Red Huntress

Quirk: Electromagnetism (Someone I’ve been trying to find their post on my blog had posted this idea and I fell in love with it ever since)

She’s like Static Shock but with a dash of magenta/ruby lasers she can create through focusing her electromagnetism through her finger tips. She is an expert with her quirk and has the best handle of her quirk than most of her peers. She is the most frequent visitor in the support equipment workshop next to Tucker, Poindexter and Danny. It’s how she built the hoverboard she has in the show that utilizes her electromagnetic abilities for both offensive and defensive maneuvers. (Also, I enjoy the idea that Bullet is Val’s uncle on her mom’s side and is her biggest supporter alongside her dad, Damien Gray).

Jazz 

Quirk: Serenity 

Helps calm individuals and give them a sense of safety/security when they’re around her in a 10 feet radius. Though, anyone out of range cannot be affected by her quirk and she needs to be conscious in order to use it.

She planned on becoming a pro hero but felt her powers were best suited for her dream profession as a psychologist. She has used her quirk a lot when Danny was overwhelmed with his studies prior to UA. Course, a phone call and sibling chat over the phone certainly does the job for Danny now when it comes to preparing material for exams. (Course, its up to you guys to decide)

Dash

Hero name: Rager

Quirk: Strength Magnification

Improves his physique and stamina by a large percentage for a set amount of time. Needs to be careful of how much/long he magnifies his body or else his body will become immensely sore. 

Kwan

Hero name: Rallier 

Quirk: Team Rally (50/50)

Able to duplicate himself 3-4 times while being able to power-up allies’ quirks or stamina with a rally chant to help the team. The more duplicates there are the rally effect multiplies/stacks on the individual but it can lead to dangerous outcomes for their quirk output. 

Kwan is the class representative for 1-A, he’s the best at the job and was more than thrilled to be the one leading his class in more ways than one.  

Paulina

Hero name: Enchantress

Quirk: Charm

If the opponent is flustered by her taunts or flirting, their vision will become altered and start seeing things that are not there. It works better on men than women and the opponent can snap out of it with enough willpower or if they’re not interested in her.

Star

Hero name: Ms. Meteorite

Quirk: Comet

Similar to Gran Torino’s Jet quirk except faster and she can create an explosive impact on where she lands. Similar to a meteorite landing on earth, she also learns to use this as a long distance move by punching fast enough as she descends to create wind pressure punches.

Poindexter

Hero name: Tex (like in Tex Avery; Danny gave him the idea!) 

Quirk: Slapstick

His appearance is black and white just like an old timey cartoon character as well as having the durability and cartoon powers of one. However, his quirk can only work as long as what he does with it is funny in the circumstance it’s used for. Sort of like “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” rules in a sense. 

Sidney is part of Class 1-A just saying, I don’t care, this is Poindexter’s time to shine here to be the coolest/funniest person in the class. Also, Tucker’s most loyal friend/tester for new support items. 

Wes Weston

Hero name: Vigilance

Quirk: Deduction

He is able to deduct people’s identities to flaws/weak points for him to use against them and  exploit against problems. 

Class 1-B Representative and the most annoying/terrifying person that Danny has dealt with in his life. He was able to figure out that Danny’s quirk is not his own or more so that it's not natural and takes every opportunity to state this regardless if anyone is listening or not. 

Amber Mclain

Hero Name: Ember

Quirk: Fiery voice (50/50)

Her quirk uses the vibrations in her sining voice to conduct intense heat waves onto opponents or utilize to rumble the structures around here and even put out the flames from her quirk. Its like a combination of Present Mic and Endevours quirk but it leaves her with a strained or inflamed vocal cords with overuse. 

Third year student or an upcoming rock star that has certainly gain huge popularity after her song “Remember” was a nationwide hit amongst the younger generation. She’s striving to be the top hero while making her next hit to become the 1# song on the listings. 

Dani

Hero name: Phantwo (lol jk; unsure what her name would be)

Quirk: Poltergeist 

Similar to Danny’s quirk “Ghost”, except she has the additional ability to melt herself to a slimy puddle and use her ectoplasmic slime to trap or surprise opponents.

Clockwork

Hero Name: Clockwork

Quirk: Time Keeper

Clockwork’s quirk allows him to stop time for 5 to 15 minutes and be able to rewind it in the same amount of time. It can be one to multiple objects as long as he touches them in order to interact with them.

Principle of UA in this au. He’s quite a reserved man but still manages to visit and congregate with students throughout the school during lunch period. 

Flynn Fenton/Flynn Walker

Hero Name: The Green Knight

Quirk: Mineralization 

His quirk allows him to manipulate the minerals and inorganic materials in the atmosphere to create into crystalized constructs that are almost stronger than diamond. Luckily, the crystals have no value so he doesn’t have to worry about that aspect of his quirk. He does have to worry about his skin becoming dried out as a result of his quirk usage. 

Flynn is a third year student that loves to check up on his cousin, Danny, any chance he gets bc of the amount of work he does with his internships.

James Walker (or James W. Hausermann)

Hero name: Warden Wraith

Quirk: Plasma Apparatus

His quirk ionizes the electrolytes in the blood system into plasma. His entire body is composed of plasma giving him his skeletal appearance. He can create plasma chains, teleport from point A to B and more as long as he focuses and has enough energy at use. Course, he can have minor to severe dehydration and imbalance in his electrolyte levels from overuse. 

Occupation: CEO of an infrastructure security company/Provisional License Examiner just like Gang Orca.The ghost prison guards become his backup/helpers for the exam phases. (They’re just trained stuntmen with combat or military experience for the occasion).

Also, I like to think Walker has kids in this au who are in the Class 1-A group; they’re not hard to spot they take after their father with their skeletal complexion. 

Skulker

Villain name: Quirk Hunter

Quirk: Tracker

The moment Skulker makes eye contact with his target he will be able to hunt them down and find them anywhere no matter how good they are at covering their tracks. He can lock on to only one target, but he will be able to know their heart beat, quirk, be able to place a tracking/scent line that only he can see and will lead him to his target’s location. It lasts for over a day or a half.

Occupation: Skulker is known for capturing, info-detailing or “retiring” newcomer pros or specific quirk users for his clients that pay him handsomely for their targets, dead or alive. Thanks to Vlad, Danny was strictly intended to be captured alive by Skulker but sometimes he gets too thrilled by the hunt to not have a memento. Trust me, it's more of a dangerous 

Nicolai Technus 

Villain Name: Technus 

Quirk: Technopathy

A genius in his own right, even if he’s a little crazy, with the best ability possible for a man of science and innovation. As long as he knows the makeup and attributes of the machine, Technus is able to completely repurpose or change a machine’s qualities for offensive and defensive qualities. Whenever that be for a mech suit or hacking a high tech system for entry, he’s able to do it as long as he knows what it is and how it functions. An example is repurposing a slot machine into a submachine gun that shoots coins at the target. 

Vlad Masters

Name: Vlad Plasmius

Quirk: Vampire

Can do anything a vampire can supposedly do. However, he was able to manifest an additional aspect of this quirk which is the ability to copy any quirk users ability. Based on the type of blood he ingests decides the amount of time he can use the copied quirk for.

Occupation: CEO of his own hero firm, he is extremely selective with the interns he has that there is a major waitlist to be even consider for Masters Inc. Course, imagine the surprise Danny must of felt when he received an offer from Vlad right off the bat after the Sports festival. 

Bruce Guiles (Bullet)

Hero Name: Bullet 

Quirk: Sphyraena or Chimera Fish

Able to do anything a barracuda can do or the quirk is a 50/50 mutant quirk in which he has both the traits of a barracuda, Chimaeras and a touch of piranha from his parents being of one of these fish species hence Chimera. Bullet can do anything those fish can do overall but he can’t go too long without hydration from water. Water quality and its oxygen content also affect his abilities by a noticeable percentage but he still remains quite formidable as a quirk user.

Occupation: Captain of a coast guard team, he’s a strict military man with an amazing record of saving people from any disasters both on land and sea. Him and Walker are best buddies ever since they went to school together. 

Vortex

Hero Name: Vortex

Quirk: Storm Warning

Vortex can utilize any variation of a natural disaster depending on the environment he’s in. Hurricanes, tornadoes, thunderstorms, you name it he can create it for his use. However, despite his amazing control over his quirk it is still possible for him to create these disasters if he lost control or magnify another pre-existing one if he loses focus. 

Occupation: Storm-chaser/Forecaster; His control and knowledge in combating/predicting these natural disasters has led to him to be part of a storm chasing crew and they’re the best in helping disaster prevention teams evacuate citizens as a result.

Petra Eris

Hero name: Pandora

Quirk: Butterfly Effect

Can manipulate or prevent a chaotic event to happen if she was in proximity and present to prevent it to happen. Or even give a little chaos to the opponent to deal with during battle. 

One of the top ten heroes and most beloved heroes in the country. She is the best strategist in any team and has a way to predict any event before they happen given the necessity of it for her quirk to work in her favor. 

Johnny 

Vigilante name: Johnny 13

Quirk: Unlucky

Johnny manifests his bad luck into a shadow that will latch onto opponents and cause unfortunate events to occur more for that individual as a result. However, the shadow cannot exist in complete sunlight; it can only remain if there are already shadows in his general area or it’s nighttime and its effects are strongest at that time obviously.

Occupation: Johnny is the leader of a biker gang or de-facto leader of said biker gang who loves to raise hell and helping folks that need saving whenever he’s around or is up to the task. Kitty tags along with him to help him out of jams and bc she loves him. :3

Kitty

Vigilante name: Kitty

Quirk: Lovesick

Kitty sends a smooch towards her opponent which if it makes contact causes the individual to have nausea or become disoriented for around 10 minutes. It can also have a chance of lasting longer if the individual was sort of infatuated with her regardless of gender. 

Pariah Dark

Villain name: King Pariah

Quirk: Ultimate Adaptation 

Similar to all for one except with the unpredictability for both the user and opponents. Pariah can manifest any type of quirk needed to defeat anyone that stands in his way both one-on-one and in groups. Course, drawbacks are the learning curve to some of the quirks and that multiple adaptions he utilizes at once will destroy his cells in the process. 

Pariah is a former follower of all for one who had unique quirk that All for one augmented to help him succeed if both Shigaraki and Tomura failed in their own conquest for the world. But now Pariah has his own plans to succeed where they failed and become the leader who shapes a new world order with an iron fist. 

Frederick Kingsmen

Villain/vigilante name: Fright Knight

Quirk: Burning Energy Infusion

Able to form/infuse objects with his own burning energy life force that is capable of burning or slicing through any in his sight. The sweat he gives off is what provides the material needed to ignite his unnatural flames despite it causing his body to overheat still. 

Fright Knight is Pariah’s second-in-command with a loyalty to him as strong as his control over his power. Fright Knight has faced many pro-heros as he carried out the smaller phases of Pariah’s plans and most of them barely came close towards defeating or leaving as much as  scratch on the knight. 

Rodolfo Gonzalo  

Hero name: Wulf

Quirk: Werewolf + Portal creation (50/50?)

Can do anything a werewolf can supposedly do; somehow it allows him to create portals with his claws to locations he has marked with them or visited in the past. 

Wulf was abducted on by Pariah’s forces and sent into the Nomu labs for experimentation to force on another quirk and instill complete allegiance to their cause. Course, Wulf broke free as a result of that new additional quirk allowing him to escape their clutches and his previous one helping him survive the endeavor. However, he lost his memories in the process and could only remember his native language, Spanish, and his hero name Wulf. 

Overgrown

Villain/vigilante Name: Overgrown

Quirk: Plant Manipulation

Can manipulate any pre-existing plant matter or create new vegetation if water and soil is present for the process or he understand the biological makeup of the plant in question. 

Occupation: Pro-hero or eco-terrorist who is tired of humanity from abusing the environment from quirk battles to industries using the land for their own benefits and none others.

That’s all I have for now! I hope this was worth the wait, guys. As well as, inspire ideas for your takes with a DP x BNHA Crossover! 

[burnedbyshoto]

I really hate you

— Shinsou knows he shouldn’t trust villains. Especially villains who make his mind spin and stomach twist in joy. But there’s something about you that keeps him coming back for more.

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pairing: pro hero!shinsou hitoshi x villain fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, a little bit of juicy plot, pro hero!au, reader is a villain, betrayal, biting, marking, collaring, cursing, hate sex, rooftop sex, body liquids, angst

word count: 8,180

a/n: i like deception :) being a chem TA is pretty fun, except when im in lab for 8 am until 4 pm. listen,,, I also really liked this prompt I made last night because the one I had before wasn’t spicy enough for me anymore. I hope you enjoy though! like comment and share for the algorithm (jk been watching too many tikytokys)

kinktober day 8 main kink: collaring

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When the sun sets, and the moon is high in the sky, and the chill of the bitter cold winds raise ceaseless goosebumps on your arms, and the only people who are up are drunken businessmen and tiresome students, it is a common belief that this is when the freaks come out.

The freaks come out to play at night.

You are one of these freaks.

Heh.

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Shinsou nodded at his friends as he walked through the doors of the agency he worked at. Despite the power of his quirks ability, he was an underground hero (unless the ultra-rare occasion where they needed his quirk in the limelight); he was stationed within a large, well-known agency and was one of the founding heroes there at that. His ability to be hidden from the bright lights of the world were both easy and challenging; most of the world knew him as the kid from UA’s Sports Festival that went toe to toe with nearing number one Pro-Hero Deku. It both irked and embarrassed him when that event was brought up; on the one hand, it was true! He had nearly beat Midoriya during that final stage. Yet, on the other hand, their memories seemed to recall some crazy quirk-fueled fistfight where Midoriya had broken his entire body in the duration of their fight. 

‘No,’ he often found himself responding back to the gentlemen and ladies who would awe at his school-day adventures, ‘there was a fistfight, but Midoriya handled it without using his quirk except to snap him out of my quirk.’

They always looked embarrassingly horrified by their faulty memory when they pulled the clip up on Youtube, their bows quick in apology before they made off. 

But people recognizing him from that was rare as it gets, fortunately even with the large agency stapled to his alias, he was quite good at his job—a shadow in the night, an urgent whisper to the villain freaks who roamed the night.

“Ah, Shinsou-chan!” Kaminari pouted, his body draping over his purple-haired friend as Shinsou moved to change from his regular clothes into the black triple-weave kevlar of his hero suit. He had once sported a black cotton-like costume akin to Aizawa, but after many, many gun shootings and stabbing incidents, he figured he needed something sturdier. 

“What is it?” he asked, rising up from his bent position so that Kaminari couldn’t take advantage of his slouched form. 

Shinsou’s tired, purple eyes met the exhausted pair of Kaminari.

“Today was so hard,” Kaminari sighed, his lip still put into the stupid pout, and he slumped onto the bench behind Shinsou. His feet were spread before him, fingers drumming onto his directional equipment. “Since it’s winter, the night comes sooo much earlier now. I swear some weirdos really appear out of the woodworks when the night comes! Like just before I was going to make my way back here, I swear I saw Aizawa-sensei hanging out on the rooftops like some super-secret ninja, right?”

Shinsou frowned. He knew his mentor turned friend was actually on vacation at the moment in Hawaii. Something he thought, at the very least, was long overdue. 

“Aizawa is in Hawaii right now,” Shinsou quickly spoke, his hands buckling the belt on his pants, before moving to lace up his boots. 

“Oh fuck, I told Todoroki he was in Seoul,” Kaminari cursed, the palm of his hand hitting his forehead. 

“Good going, who knows what weird message or gift he’ll end up sending to Aizawa now,” Shinsou couldn’t help the small smirk from spreading on his face at that note.

After being accepted into the Hero Course over in UA, Shinsou couldn’t help but be initially disappointed when he was placed within Class 1-B — Class 2-B at that point — simply because his mentor was with Class 1-A. The initial disappointment didn’t last very long when he got to know the rest of Class 2-B better, and he saw that while 2-A possessed raw talent, 2-B were more well-defined with a much bigger take-no-shit mentality that he appreciated more. That and 2-A were being strangled by a new villain of the month far too often, and Shinsou just wanted nothing more than to graduate from high school. 

Still, his lack of enrollment in Class 2-A didn’t mean that he didn’t see the rambunctious, nearly intolerable group of twenty in class 2-A. As a matter of fact, he thought he saw them a bit more than he’d like. Aizawa was his mentor, so he understood seeing him around, but for some reason, 2-A was never too far away. As soon as Shinsou was admitted into the Hero Course and the two hero classes had weekly meals together, which meant that to him, just the slightest bit, 2-A felt like an unwanted, annoying, ugly stepchild.

So no, Shinsou could not tell you 2-A’s inside class jokes, but he knew a lot more about the forty other hero students than he’d ever like to admit. 

And through his knowledge, he knew that the ever so powerful Todoroki Shouto was an idiot, probably a bigger one than Kaminari.

“I hate that you call Aizawa-sensei just…” Kaminari trailed off, a disgusted shiver running down his spine as if it sickened him to remove the single formality.

“Aizawa,” Shinsou said once more.

“Stop.”

“Aizawa.”

“Hitoshi!”

“Aizawa.”

“PLEASE!”

“Shouta.”

Kaminari hit the floor, his chest heaving with fake, bitter sobs while Shinsou couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of his over-dramatic friend on the ground. He had to admit, Shouta felt weird on his tongue too.

“Stop making a huge deal about how Aizawa and I are closer than you are,” Shinsou half-joked half-told-the-truth.

He was more than well aware of his mentor’s former students trying to become even closer to their beloved homeroom teacher. All doing it in their own ways, all relatively unsuccessful because unknown to them (but not Shinsou), Aizawa already loved them all thoroughly, not that he’ll ever tell them.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO SHAVE OFF MITTENS FUR!”

Oh yeah, that had lost a lot of love points for Kaminari.

Sighing softly, Shinsou placed his newly replaced coiled capturing weapon around his shoulders, and his artificial vocal cords mask onto his chest until he was off on patrol.

“Why’d you think you saw Aizawa?” he asked again, trying to finish the conversation so that he could leave. It felt like it was going to be a long night if Kaminari confirmed where his thoughts were already trailing. 

“Hm?” Kaminari finally looked up from his puddle of tears on the floor, tears streaking all over his face, small charges of electricity humming off it. He blinked once, twice, his eyes shooting to the ceiling as if the answer was there before his fist came down to hit his open palm in a flash of realization. “Oh, I remember! There was this person, obviously not Aizawa-sensei, standing by the edge of a building watching everyone below. Hair whipping in the wind and his capturing weapon fluttering around them!”

Just as Shinsou thought.

“Where did you see her?”

“Her?!”

“Where, Kaminari?”

“Uh… well, I guess by Gramps convenience store. Don’t tell me this is some super sexy megafan of yours! Wait… do tell me, or… no, I’ll get jealous if you’re having rooftop sex with — eh?! where are you going?! Hitoshi?!”

“My shift started two minutes ago,” Shinsou explained, one of his hands lifting in a wave as he exited the locker room, his heart hammering quickly, knowing just who he was going to need to track down tonight.

…

..

.

It was dark.

Shinsou’s eyes squinting as he hopped from one rooftop onto the other, his capturing device assisting him in clearing the dooming crevice. He wasn’t exactly the most physically threatening, and unfortunately, that also meant he wasn’t exactly the greatest at parkour type movements, although he was getting better. Maybe had he started to ask for earlier shifts, where he would be out when the sun was, he could get better faster.

It was tricky with only the moonlight to guide him, but that’s what he could get at the moment.

As he scuffled through the gravel rooftop of one of the abandoned buildings, Shinsou found himself squinting at the figure in the distance. The one perched near what Kaminari oh so fondly refers to as Gramps convenience store.

He studied the form of the picture still person, noticing if it wasn’t for the slight wind through your hair and twisting capturing weapon around your neck, he would think you’re a statue. But he knows better now, he’s known better for quite some time now. 

“What’re you doing out here, y/l/n?” Shinsou found himself speaking the moment he stepped behind you, hands shoving into his pant pockets.

You didn’t move, nor did you respond, your body still completely still while peering down at the empty world fascinated on who knows what.

“Y/l—”

“How can I help ya, Mindjack-senpai?” you interrupted him, your gaze still not removed from the world below the building. “I hear it’s supposed to be a busy night tonight.”

Shinsou paused, his brows scrunching at your words.

It was plain to see to Heroes that you were a villain, you did what you wanted when you wanted, whatever the price, but if there was one thing Shinsou had learned with this rather weird cat and mouse game the two of you played time and time again was that you didn’t lie. 

What was happening?

“A busy night?” Shinsou questioned, his quirk still unactivated, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to Brainwash an answer out of you anyways. “Where at?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Hero?” you teased slowly, and Shinsou had to deny the way that the way your head finally turned to lock eyes with his made his stomach clench.

It meant nothing.

Nothing at all.

“You know what happens when you slight me,” Shinsou couldn’t help but warn, the bandages on his neck rising under his command. But your eyes blinked slowly, lips spreading into a lazy, cunning smile.

“And you know what happens when you underestimate me,” you returned, fingers gliding against his old weapon — yes, old weapon. Just two months ago, just before your last arrest, you had viciously stolen it from him, your foot crushing his vocal cords while you managed to pry the weapon from his broken fingers. “Anyways, Mindjack-senpai, it’s a bit unethical of you, a hero, to be threatening me in such a way! I’m just a poor girl waiting for the love of my life to show up.”

“And have they?”

You blink, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you nod, “I got him right where I want him.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Shinsou snapped despite the lick of warmth against his chest and cheeks. “I’ll have you arrested again.”

Now, this has you turning from the edge of the building, you sit on the ledge of the building, fingers supporting your head as you stare at him without fear. Shinsou really fucking hated how fast you riled him up.

“Arrested? But Mr. Mindjack-senpai, didn’t you know?” you ask, the taunt evident in your voice, the twinkle in your eye devastatingly bright. “I’m a changed woman. I’m what you call a hero now. You wouldn’t arrest an innocent heroine, could you?”

“You’re hardly innocent,” Shinsou responded back smoothly and deftly, not at all yet entirely impressed by you. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

He blamed his deep impressions of you on the stupid black and purple attire you wore.

“Well, you know as well as I do that I just got out, but I feel like except what happened two days ago, I’ve really changed,” you emptily promise, pushing off the ledge, sauntering closer to Shinsou until he felt the tip of your nose brush against his. “I’ll make sure to think about you whenever… bad feelings come up.”

He prays you don’t see the scarlet flush on his face.

You’re already back at the ledge when he blinks, and he watches you raise two fingers to your temple in a mock salute as you wink at him.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but two blocks east, seven blocks south from the heart of Tokyo is where you’ll find trouble,” you inform him, dropping the salute as you turn to run.

But Shinsou wants his damn weapon back.

“Y/l/n, wait!”

“Yes—?”

You froze at the ledge, your eyes spacing out, and Shinsou sighed, moving to collect his weapon from you until you suddenly dove off the building, a burst of cheerful laughter on your tongue.

“Oh, I forgot to tell ya!” you screamed from the next building over, your fingers threading through the alloy metal cloths. “I got some earbuds just for when you’re around! They make your voice into electrical signals just for me! So guess what?!”

Shinsou didn’t need you to complete that sentence in order for him to realize what you had just gotten your hands onto.

As long as you wore those, his quirk was useless against you.

Despite knowing that a villain held the key to his demise as a hero, he chuckled, running a hand through his short purple hair.

You really were something.

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Shinsou never took himself as an especially suspicious person.

He figured he had days where he was suspicious of some people the correct amount, especially when they had the most painted on emotions he’s ever seen. Some days he was overly trusting and blamed tight smiles on something acute to nerves. Without meaning to brag, he felt like he was healthily suspicious of people, unlike others he knew who wouldn’t dare to interact with anyone new or would spill their darkest secret to anyone who would listen.

But there was something entirely, conspicuously suspicious with how you were behaving.

Winter had long passed, the long winter nights and graveyard shifts of endless freak encounters had worn a hole in his patience and boots. The spring season was beginning to end, and the warm days and nights of summer were setting on his skin.

Six full months of you, the first-ever villain he had fought as a Pro Hero, the first-ever villain to have openly flirted with him and to have him flirt back, being suspiciously… kind. 

Every shift of his, he would find you waiting for him on one of the regular rooftops. Every time he would check in with the database to make sure you weren’t wanted for some crime to find that you were innocent. Every time he would feel pissed off because you wore those earbuds that rendered his quirk useless and you somehow mastered the capturing weapon within weeks.

Now Shinsou didn’t pout, he really didn’t, but there were moments where you would appear from behind him, finger swiping down his spine as you effortlessly twirled around him, a stupid sly grin on your face as you held onto the collar of his hero costume.

“Don’t pout, Mindjack-senpai, I’m here now,” you’d purr each and every time.

He loved the dangerous purr to your voice, the way your eyes hooded over, peering at him through your eyelashes, but he knew better. He had to know better. It wasn’t that villains were terrible people per se; he’d learned a lot of villains were just thoroughly sick of being mistreated (and he had wondered what would have happened if he had been denied from UA… would he be one?). He knew that for the most part, you were quite harmless, merely sticking your nose where it didn’t belong, living a life to your personal laws and rules.

It didn’t make you evil, merely dangerous.

But he had a job to do where even if it was justifiable to beat the ever-living shit out of your sister's abuser, nearly murdering him in rage and refusing to calm down when Shinsou had arrived on the scene with the use of his quirk didn't hold up well in court. It had started this long chain of events where you had absolutely hated him for a time as you were forced to stay overnight in a jailhouse. And many horrible days afterward where you performed what Shinsou had thought to be illegal actions only to find that no, they weren’t. As a matter of fact, entirely legal because Japan had yet to update their codes. 

Long after he had discovered this, you had returned to actual crime, your physical ability growing by leaps and bounds as he ran after you after catching you doing something dangerously illegal. Shinsou was a proud hero and was incredibly proud of the impact he made as a Pro Hero, but it was clear as day, even to him, that he often let you slip through his fingers. Like a child opening their cupped fingers and wondering why the water had left.

He wasn’t sure what it was about you that made him act this way, but he certainly didn’t wish to find out.

“So what’s on the schedule today, Mindjack-senpai?” you asked, appearing from the shadows of the rooftop, not scaring Shinsou in the slightest as this was always where you greeted him. “Are we saving the Prime Minister today? Stealing — I mean, protecting those stupid bedazzled eggs in the museum? Perhaps solving an unsolvable case?”

“Smooth,” Shinsou snarked, his tired purple eyes piercing through your bright ones that seemed undoubtedly excited. “How many times do I gotta tell you that there aren't that many actual case assignments? Besides, most team-ups happen in the morning when I’m asleep.”

“Being a hero is so boring!”

“You’re not a hero.”

“Am too!” Shinsou snorted, turning on his heel and began walking away, listening to your footsteps running after him to keep up with his long paces as you cried that out.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

Shinsou stopped, his eyebrow raised in slight forced annoyance but much more amusement, when you spun in front of him, hand on his chest, cheeks puffing with your heavy breathes.

“Look!”

Tilting his head back, Shinsou grunted when your phone was shoved in his face. “What is this?”

“Hero Commission Regulation Handbook, page fifty-four, Article three, sub-article twenty-three,” you chirped, turning your phone back to yourself so that you may read it correctly. “It states that besides attending hero school like a bunch of nerds, civilians have the option of securing internships with approved Pro Heroes and work side by side with them for six months! Once finishing their internships, said Pro Hero must simply sign my licensing papers and bam, a hero I’ll become.”

“And which sniveling hero did you get to do your dirty work?” Shinsou scoffed, not at all buying the notion that you of all people wanted to become a hero. A vigilante at best, an anti-hero much more realistically, and staying a villain as default.

“You,” you smirked, winking at him before turning on your heel and sauntering off, knowing full well the patterns of his routines. 

Shinsou sighed, but he let a familiar smirk fall on his face as he walked after you, enjoying the way you glanced back at him with your wide clear eyes. But that suspicious, gut feeling didn’t leave his core, no matter how sweet and beautiful he found your smile. 

“So, Mindjack-senpai, who are we apprehending today?”

“You want me to sign your paper this entire time, and you’ve been addressing me as senpai?” Shinsou commented, his weapon shooting off to a nearby building, snapping straight in his hand when it was ready. “Where are your manners? It’s Mindjack-sensei to you.”

He didn’t wait for your response, choosing to swing off the ledge of the building with no hesitation, but a part of him wished he could have heard the sound of your laugh he only seemed to hear through the streaming, far away air.

…

… 

While usually, Shinsou didn’t have actual cases during his patrols, this job, after all, was much more spontaneous than anything else, today was different.

Today was different altogether, really.

First off, he showed up to work when the sun was still up just to get his meeting intel down in time for him to be out on the scene in time. He had nodded plenty, silently taking in Creati’s information on the drug cartel they wanted to in the next few weeks take down for numerous charges. The creation of dangerous, illegal drugs, prostitution rings, robbery, and murder being the main ones. It was some bigger stuff, so they needed all the evidence they could get.

Shinsou stared at the faces of the more prominent names of the cartel, studying every crook, nanny, and scar on their faces as Creati simply ended with where they focused down onto where their drug creating facilities were at, but still needed confirmation. “They’re pretty difficult to get to without knowing where they are,” Creati admitted, handing him a GPS. “You’ll need this.” He would be the first to start evidence gathering; after all, his old classmates would begin tomorrow.

So he had left, going to the first hideout and finding out it was completely empty. Not a single spec of evidence remaining, not a secret door or trap to get him to where they could be hiding from sight.

So was the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Something sat weirdly in his stomach as he began walking towards the final one on his list, and he froze when he saw lights shifting and moving from around the building. Quickly, Shinsou hopped to higher grounds, his phone already out, ready to take pictures. He lay low to the rooftop, practically army crawling to get to place to place as he neared the windows on the rooftop, allowing him to peer in onto the building he was scouting to find precisely what he needed. 

The entire building was a drug production spot.

His eyes scanned the building floor, singling out ten of the twelve main heads on the cartel, and he smirked. Perfect.

“Whatcha doing here, Mindjack-sensei?” your voice whispered millimeters from his ear, and Shinsou bit his tongue harshly to keep the instinctual scream from ruining his covert operation.

He snapped his head over to you, eyes slightly furious, eyebrows knitted tightly as he looked to see you leaning toward him. You were in a different outfit today, completely black, drowning you out in the night. He blinked; even the capturing weapon he had still been unsuccessful in stealing back from you was pitch black.

“What’re you wearing?”

“Do you like it?” you asked, straightening up and twirling for him as if you were wearing a magnificent dress and not personally created ‘hero’ clothes. “Ah, I hoped you would! Sorry, I had to get rid of the purple. I just felt it made me look too cute, right? I know I can’t have villains falling for me like you had me falling for you!”

Shinsou did not blush, no he didn’t, “shut up.”

“So what are we looking for today?” you asked, pressing down onto the floor beside him. Your arm touching his as pressed your face towards the glass. “Is this a stakeout?”

“Less stakeout, more information gathering,” Shinsou grumbled, typing some needed notes onto a file on his phone. It seemed to him that there was plenty here for the drug making charges. “We’re trying to get their bigger names caught in the action.”

“Oh, I thought heroes just burst in whenever they wanted, that’s what they do in the movies. Plus, you always threaten me with being arrested with no evidence,” you giggle, shifting closer to the glass, smile wide on your face.

“After saying that, say goodbye to me signing off that paper of yours,” he grunted, slipping his phone back into his pocket while you scrunch your nose at him. Shinsou couldn’t help but stare at you as the palms of your hands supported your chin as you hummed some song he couldn’t recognize.

“Ne, Mindjack-sensei, did you get the big boss?” you asked, your finger pressed against the cold glass, and Shinsou frowned, returning his head to the glass.

Right where you were pointing was, in fact, the head of the cartel. He was horrendously scrawny, holding no sense of fear or malice, and Shinsou wondered what his quirk could be that he was in charge of an operation such as this one.

“Oh, his right-hand man came too! All twelve are here!” you cheered quietly as Shinsou took documentation on his phone, and that suspicious rock in his stomach finally made sense at this second.

“Y/l/n?” he asked, head turning toward yours, tired eyes glinting with emotions he didn’t know how to handle.

“Mhm?”

“How did you know there were twelve main members, and how’d they look like?”

Silence.

Shinsou’s lips pulled back into a snarl, his canines glinting as he locked eyes with yours that were wide with shock and disbelief.

“How’d you find me—?”

He watched you lean away from the glass, fingers shooting to your earpieces. And with the inkling of suspicion sprinting through his veins, the purple-haired hero still found that he moved too slow. 

BOOM!!!!

He blacked out when his body flew with the explosion.

...

..

.

Ringing.

Pain.

Numbness.

Shinsou could only hear ringing in his ears as soot and ashes fell down from the sky, falling on his body, coating his gaping, open mouth as he tried to breathe, trying to calm himself. Was he bleeding? Was he dying? Where was the explosion from? Were you okay?

His eyes blinked heavily, altogether so irregularly that Shinsou couldn’t help but feel he was out of his body when you reappeared in his sight. Your hand pressing to his cheeks sympathetically, eyes truly hurt as you shook your head, hand grabbing into his bloodied pocket to take his phone.

“I’m sorry,” your voice seemingly whispered, just loud enough for him to hear you through the ringing from the explosion. “You weren’t supposed to be here, Mindjack… these are the scumbags that hurt my friends and family. I couldn’t let them live. Plus… I didn't have a choice, they were competition.”

He spluttered, the warm goo of blood and saliva choking out of his mouth as he convulsed on the ground, his eyes watching as you went.

“See you later, hero.”

He tried to yell at you to come back, that you were a coward, a fucking menace that he would destroy the next time he saw you, but his voice failed to work. Nothing was working except his pain receptors, his heart that kept shoving blood into his lungs that he kept spitting up, but he saw flashing white and red lights as unconsciousness sank its jagged teeth into his neck.

An ambulance was here.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It took four months to recover from the accident.

His hearing had been fucked up. Not even medical quirks had managed to save his hearing entirely. But hey, it did get him the chance for Bakugou Katsuki to come to his room, called him pathetic, and showed off his own hearing aid that he had needed since his quirk had damaged his own hearing. Not to mention that for the past four months, he had been teaching him sign language just in case.

He wasn’t alone, it seemed.

But it was four months, and he had recovered fully.

The hearing aid he required in his left ear still made his ear ache in pain, and he found that he liked it much better shoved in the back of a draw than anything else. But he knew it was dangerous to be a hero without his full hearing. If it hadn’t been for Bakugou’s trial through this all and the help of Hatsume Mei to create a more appropriate hearing aid for heroes, he wasn’t sure if he would still be here — working that is.

But today — or well, night — was a new day, and he was going to push ahead. He could do this, no sweat, no problem. 

Well, that was until an all too familiar figure sat perched on a ledge on his usual route, legs swaying in the air as uncontrolled rage bubbled in his chest. It wasn’t entirely your fault, but a large part of Shinsou was embarrassed to have been caught up in all of this because of you. He had trusted you above all else even when his instincts yelled at him not to because he knew what it was like to be painted as a villain, and he had hoped by letting you in more, you would have changed. He thought you had.

But you hadn’t.

Not one bit.

…

…

You sat at the edge of the building, already having heard the loud crunch of Shinsou’s shoes against the gravel rooftop, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t know how to face him, how to tell him that you were both sorry that he got caught up in your schemes, but that you weren’t sorry for what you had done. Those bastards had it coming.

“Give me one good reason not to push you off the building,” Shinsou growled, probably much louder than he intended. 

Instead of answering, you shrugged.

You hadn’t brought the earbuds that would keep you from being immune to his quirk, and you slightly feared what would happen if you gave in to the whispers of his words. Would you blackout in a daze before coming back to normal only when placed in the prefectures jail? Would he actually attempt to kill you? You had no idea.

But you turned on the ledge, looking at his tired purple eyes that shook with his anger and betrayal. You had done a number on him.

“So, now you can’t seem to respond back to me?” he laughed bitterly, his teeth bared into a way too fierce smile, one that made your heart thump and sent a shiver down your spine. “What game do you think you’re playing?”

You still didn’t answer as you planted your feet back onto the rooftop and stood up, watching as his binds flared to life. Dancing and weaving around him in a dangerous coil of fabric, like a frilled dragon lion lizard extending its skin in a warning.

“Should’ve taken you down with that first time I found you,” he spat, his eyes narrowing as you took steps toward him, and the weapon seemed to snap at you. “Did your sister pull the same bullshit on him as you did me? Is that why he became ‘psycho?’”

Now that one nearly got the response out of you as fury thrummed through your veins as you were suddenly nose to nose. You couldn’t help it, but you knew there was no point in explaining your reasoning for doing what you did because he would never understand; he couldn’t. 

So as his eyes flashed dangerously from your eyes, his breathing coming down harshly against your upper lip, the hatred he had for you (that was probably reignited from a year ago and make it double) simmered between the air between you and him. You couldn’t resist.

Your lips pressed against his in a simmering hot kiss. 

Shinsou shoved you away, as quickly as you had pressed your mouth against his, but you were back on him before he could utter a word. Only that this time, he kissed you back with scalding, burning heat. 

You never really knew how much smaller you were to Shinsou until you were on the tips of your toes to kiss him, his hands practically burning you as they gripped onto your hips, pulling you so close there was hardly any room to breathe. His kiss was hateful, spiteful, and full of unspoken passion the two of you had never addressed during the period that was good. It had been so good, but he was a hero, he would never understand.

His teeth bit harshly onto your lower lip, and you hissed, your fingers burying into his hair and tugging at the root of his hair as his tongue came and pressed dangerously against yours. His tongue was hot against yours, he was undoubtedly much more hotblooded than you were, and with his emotions heightened, he exhausted what. 

Tongues clashed against one another, but it wasn’t even a battle of dominance; it was a battle to find who surrendered. There was to be no joy or excitement for whichever tongue prevailed, just the burning of the tears falling down your face and the acid taste on your tongue as he suckled on your pink muscle.

Your eyes were partially opened, watching his angry yet blank purple eyes meet yours, neither one of you allowing yourself to give in to the pure elation and sensation this was bringing. No, he wouldn’t allow it, and you wouldn’t have it.

The stubble of his beard scratched into your skin repetitively, feeling like sandpaper against your own skin as the kiss deepened, consuming the both of you on a whole new level as your crotches ground roughly against one another. Hisses and groans couldn’t stop pouring from your collective mouths, both of you hating yet craving more from this all. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he spoke to you like this, would he do something to you while you were like this? So when his massive, thick hand made contact with the underneath of your ass, scooping up your leg so that your covered cunt could now correctly grind into his hard cock, the weapon you stole from him a year ago bound around his neck, choking him, collaring him.

“I like my bitches chained up,” you mocked against his lips, but somehow, someway, Shinsou liked it. 

You groaned loudly at the way Shinsou gasped for air against the makeshift collar, your grin widening as you nodded your head, pulling away from his mouth as the grin became a smirk. “Didn’t think you wanted to talk when we were fucking?” you lied, teeth biting onto his lower lip and sucking on it as your hips oh so artfully bucked against his covered cock. You could feel the growing slick in your panties beginning to feel uncomfortable with the lack of proper friction, and your head lolled backward when he slammed your core against his, devilishly grinding against you.

He picked up your other leg and dropped the both of you to the floor, the uncomfortable gravel stone floor digging painfully into your back, but you could care less. Shinsou’s mouth was already back on your body, scratchy, scraping kisses placed on your neck, making you moan out, legs wrapping around his waist as you cant your hips upward to grind into him.

Unamused with the lack of his hands on your body, you took his arms that were planted at your shoulders and pressed his heavy palms on your breasts, avoiding the pissed look in his eyes as his teeth marked you painfully. You actually shrieked in pain. The feeling of his teeth tearing through the skin on your neck, while his finger kneaded and pulled at your covered breasts. It was unashamedly painful with how he played with your breasts. He seemed to grow happier with every sound of distress you made.

Fisting your hands back into his hair, you pulled him back to your face level, your eyes fluttered at the way his clothed erection carded perfectly between your sopping wet cunt. Blood stained his mouth, making his teeth slightly orange in tint, and you clicked your teeth in partial anger and pain as your neck throbbed. Slamming your lips back against his, you almost gagged at the taste of iron that soared through your senses as his tongue wasted no time to seek yours out. His lips and fingers were so ardent, manipulating your every body movement, cry of pain and pleasure as thrumming hatred for the stupid, stubborn hero above you still coursed through your veins. 

Sweat began to form at your temples as your lips gilded against his, your hips snapping up to meet his grinding hips, and an airy response keened from his mouth as you moaned loudly.

His incessantly grinding hips were making your legs shake with stimulation, your whines and whimpers for more opening like a flood gate as you finally stuck a hand between the two of you and shoved his pants to his knees. You dropped your legs from around his waist, and he assisted you in ripping your pants off from one side of your body, the fabric still clinging to your right leg, but you could hardly care. All you wanted was for him to plant his cock into your blazing heat and to fuck you, to claim you here on this rooftop that started and would end it all. You wanted him, his cock, and him.

“Fuck me,” you begged into his ear, and his back shivered with your words. You hooked your leg around his waist, carding his hot, throbbing cock against your soaked pussy, as you rolled your hips. “I want you to fuck me, fill me with his cock, and cum deep within me to show me just how much you fucking hate me.”

You cried out when his hand shot down to his cock to line it up with your squeezing, dripping hole, his mouth once again covering yours, kissing you aggressively, fueled with an emotion you could taste as bitter hatred. Your legs trembled as the tip of his cock continued to press against your entrance, not entirely entering it, not giving you friction to send you into a euphoric end. You could help the snarl that passed through your lips, your eyes angry beyond repair as the head of his cock continued to deny you. Whenever you tried to grind down, to force your walls around his cock, he went down with you, he wouldn’t allow it, and your cunt clenched against nothing as he gave you nothing.

Shinsou wheezes out a bitter chuckle, his hand raising his cock from between your soaked folds to slap his heavy, thick, and long length against your throbbing clit.

Hatred and desire soak your body, and you needily rub your clit against his cock, your hands shoving up his shirt to feel the scarred pattern of his back as you give him new ones that were produced by your nails.

“Don’t tease me, hero,” you snapped, fingers tearing into his skin to draw blood. “You fuck my pussy so good, right now, or I promise next time you’ll go out with that bomb too.”

That seems to do what you want because before those words settle on your nerves. His cock penetrates deeply within you, bottoming out entirely as your head thrashes back against the gravel of the floor, throbbing pain from that entirely ignorable because fuck, his cock was stretching you out. He was so thick, so fucking veiny that you could feel the pulsating veins on his cock pressing against your puffy, sensitive walls. You scream his name as the pleasure-filled pain pulses within you, your hips thrashing, wildly bucking in your attempt to calm from the sudden placement of his cock.

“Why are you so fucking big?” you splutter, a whining pitch to your voice as you clawed at his back, trying to separate your joined bodies but also trying to get even closer. “It’s so big, my walls feel like! Oh fuck, Shinsou, it feels like Imma split in two!”

It seems that Shinsou holds some great pride over those worse, because he growled deep in his chest, and his hips begin to fuck into you. It sends your hands to the base of his neck, clutching onto his skin with hope as you scream in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the wet squelches fill the air and tickle your ears. The head of his cock keeps dragging against your spongy wall, brushing over your g-spot over and over again as if he knew where it was, as if it was common knowledge as he fucked you further into the gravel floor. It didn’t even hurt anymore, your skin singing with joy as his cock fucked you stupid.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me!” you whined, and Shiinsou made an approving noise. 

He grunts as your cunt flutters and clenches around him, his balls hitting your skin in possibly bruising force and speed. And his pelvis crashing against your stings ever so slightly, but has you begging for more, sobbing for more.

Your vulgar words and moans are unstoppable at this point, your legs and thighs trembling as they are still circled around him, sometimes assisting you in coming up to meet his driving, drilling hips. You whine into his ear, your mouth pressing blind and sloppy kisses against his slick with sweat neck.

It’s when both his hands bring your hips up to him, his cock finally bottoming out entirely within you, does the most primal moan rip through your mouth. You convulse underneath him, trying to move as the head of his cock buries against your cervix, poking your womb with power and speed that has you swearing behind the blackness of your vision that this sensation brings. You can see the entire galaxy, the world lighting up when his cock leaves the thin wall, and you gasp, shocked that the heat and slick of your cunt is still going. You tremble underneath him, wordless cries pittering from your mouth while he bites on your earlobe.

You soon readjust to the numbing pleasure, the bruising pleasure, and pain that comes with his cock slamming against your cervix. The way that he thrusts up into you, stretching out your walls far more than you were ever used to.

 A pathetic cry escaped your lips when he rolled over so that you were now on top, your body bouncing as soon as it could against him. You keened and whined, feeling the top of his cock licking your cervix, and you spluttered.

“Fuck this angle, this angle and your cock!?” you stammered, fists curling into his collar as you rode him, his hips snapping up into yours with that same animalistic power and speed.

His pace is irreplicable, near maddening with every successive thrust of his hips. Each snap, each wet noise sends you close to the edge, your inner walls clenching and milking his length with greater power as your senseless cries fill the night sky. His grip on your waist will leave purple bruises later tonight, you just know it, but the fire in his eyes as you lock fazes is enough for you to be okay with it.

Its intensifying, deepening, fire erupting in your core as your cunt throbs.

Sweat, tears, and spit fall from your face, and Shinsou surges upward, kissing you with everything he can. It's a maddening escape of lust and need and hatred being exchanged, saliva spreading between you, covering your hot faces with slimy coldness, But you keep him close, your mouth drinking him in more, begging for more as your tongue sinks into his mouth.

His fingers rake down from your back. Past the curve of your clapping ass and onto your powerful thighs that helped in your action to claim his cock. Your joined mouths, both parted in silent screams, wordless begs for more, branding curses that spoke of his hatred for you, your hatred of his job.

Fuck this, fuck that, fuck, fuck, “fuck!”

You held each other impossibly close. Despite the barriers of shirts and armor separating your chests, you swore you could feel his hammering heart flush against your chest. A steady, consistent beat reminding you that this was a one-time thing, that this was yet another bomb with only one explosion to it.

“S-Shit!” his voice finally managed to escape from the makeshift collar, and you nearly sobbed at the sound of his gravelly, husky voice. 

You still hated him, you really hated him and his stupid deep voice. 

Your back arches as the control you had on collar suddenly slacks, as if you had never had it there, and his own noises of sex, of hatred, of pleasure fill and echo in your ear. You can hear him mumbling something in your ear, your head pathetically nodding, tears streaming down your face only you can’t seem to figure out why. The throbbing pressure in your stomach made you near uncomfortable as his cock sank and disappeared from your cunt, your walls' vice grip becoming tighter and tighter and tighter.

There’s vigor, untapped lust, pent up frustration as he rolls you both around, pushing you back into the gravel and dives his length into your wet, loud cunt without mercy. You were overworked, over thrilled, the pressure of your coming orgasm snapping into your every fiber of your being, your toes curling, and drool seeping from your lips as he growled. 

The noise seemed to resonate deeply in your own chest, and he pressed his sweaty forehead against yours, pathetic, needy noises escaping your lips as you stared into his angry, lusting eyes. And as he buried his teeth into your bottom lip, his nose scrunched in an aggressive snarl, he spoke with finality:

“Cum.”

You weren’t sure if you had suddenly fallen under the persuasion of his brainwash, or he just knew you were overfilled with pressure, but you went rigid in his hold, your eyes rolling backward, and your vision going white. You came in powerful waves, electric stimming vibrating through your entire body as your spongey, wet walls clamped around him, and Shinsou came in a guttural groan. His hips snapping into your with five last, robust, resounding thrusts until your trembling abdomen and thighs were stilled with his crushing weight.

 You could feel his hot cum pulsing and thriving deep within your cunt, and you panted heavily, your body feeling alarmingly weak as the both of you lay there. A puddle of cum, tears, drool, pain, longing, and hatred.

He lays on top of you, his chest heaving with his breathing, and you felt frozen beneath him. The pain of the gravel roof no longer adds to your pleasure but rather is stabbing you in pain. It’s quiet as you lay there.

He’s quiet.

You’re silent.

“Why’d you do it?” he asked suddenly, interrupting the silence that you hated.

“I can’t tell you,” you admit, voice thick and heavy with untold emotions.

“You know I’ll have to arrest you, right?” Shinsou spoke softly, but he didn’t move to capture you, and you didn’t move to run.

What was the point? It wasn’t as if there was ever a fighting chance for the both of you. The world would have never allowed it, so why bother?

“I don’t think you hate me enough to arrest me right now, sleep on it,�� you softly chided, your eyes staring up into the universe, begging to know why they made you a freak?

“Not right now, you spent all my energy,” Shinsou admits, rising up from you, his soft cock removing itself from your humming core, and you looked away to keep from staring. “I really hate you though, y/l/n. I don’t like liars or pretenders.”

“Convince your cock of it next time,” you couldn’t help but fire back, your upper lip curling in your anger and hatred at the sound of his zipping pants.

Silence and a beat follow your words.

“I’ll tell you this now,” Shinsou spoke, turning on his heels, his tone was cold, distant, like a stranger who could care less for you. “Don’t let me see you again. If I do, I promise you, I’ll send your ass to Tartarus. We’re no longer on good terms.”

Anger, hatred, and fury course through your veins as you stand up, legs weak, but spirit wounded as you pull up your pants, uncaring of his cum leaking from your slit. 

“Don’t you dare show your face to me again! Next time I won’t save your fucking ass when I blow something up!” you snapped, the tears running down your face uncontrollable although your voice never gave it away. It didn’t have to though, he turned around one last time, and his eyes met yours, and the two of you glared and simmered. 

But, he didn’t bother to respond back as he disappeared into the shadows of the night sky.

You collapsed onto your knees, exhaustion finally catching up with you, and you realized his capturing weapon you had stolen was finally taken back by the rightful owner. You fell forward, the tears and silent sobs muffled by your bitten lip as you stayed on that rooftop for an hour. Crying like a freak.

Truth be told, you weren’t even sure if you ever hated him.

...

..

.

Incoming Text…

Incoming Text…

New Text Message Received!

From Unknown:      ↳ Good job, y/n. Phase one is complete.

[sunnyoldbear]

Luca Headcanons Part 3!

I can’t fucking stop please someone help me

Luca:

All seamonsters have a lot of fish qualities and different sea monsters take on different fish qualities, even within a family.

While Luca isn’t as equipped to handle the deep as his uncle is, his father does have some traits that would help him out. Luca doesn’t know this, but he can survive deeper pressure than most others can. Like, significantly deeper, but not to the point of the Deep. He’s have to get accustomed to it and he might not have even survived.

His species can also echolocate! He also doesn’t know he can do this even though it’s from his mom’s side. He just thinks he clicks and squeaks when he’s happy, he doesn’t know he can also echolocate. Since, again, he hasn’t been to the Deep, the ability is very diluted and he can’t locate things very far but… he can, if he tries hard enough. He won’t, though, cause he just thinks his clicks and squeaks are just that.

He loses his shit when he finds out about dinosaurs. He loves them.

If you even mention a museum he will practically beg to go and he will be in there from opening to closing and still come back for more. He takes in every bit of information he possibly can

He doesn’t flip people off, he just sticks his tongue out

Cloud watches! He thinks it’s cute :)

Is cold blooded. They found this out when he passed out in the middle of class one day during the winter. Winter months are very hard for him at school because of it, so he treasures the break and stays under a bunch of warm blankets.

Talks with his hands a lot

One day when he was swimming to the surface after seeing his family, a fisherman who wasn’t too approving of sea monsters tossed their harpoon at him. It grazed his arm and it hurt like hell, but he still tried to hide it. Of course, since he was clutching his arm and there was blood between his fingers, the Marcovaldos panicked and healed him tot he best of their ability, but Luca simply smiled, turned to Alberto, and said “look, we match now!” (If you see Alberto standing beside Luca so that their scarred arms touch since they’re on opposite arms, no you didn’t)

He finds out about bubble wands and thinks they’re the coolest thing!

Avoids every kid named “Bruno” at school like the plague because he doesn’t want them to think he hates them

Whenever something cool happens he instinctively turns to tell Alberto and his face drops when he doesn’t see him

Definitely the kid to accidentally say “mom” (and)or “I love you” to a teacher and then stare in horror

Grabs Alberto’s arm, wrist, or hand when they’re doing something together if he’s not grabbed first just so they don’t lose each other. It’s just instinct.

Once sobbed for an hour because he saw a dead frog in a pool

Falls asleep if his hair is played with

Still gets made fun of for smelling like fish but due to being a fish he can’t really bathe so Giulia and her mom just spray him with perfume. It makes him feel better.

Forgives Guido and Ciccio with no hesitation, will never forgive Ercole. In fact, he’s terrified of Ercole.

Technically canon, but he is the biggest mama’s boy. She learns from her mistakes and fixes her relationship with him and he becomes super close to her

Only lets those close to him call him “Bubble” like his grandma does

Loses his mind when he sees fireflies

He keeps his hair pretty short

Refuses to eat fish

Is more of a prey fish

That being said, he develops a few survival markings, such as a spot on one of his fins to look like eyes

For some reason I feel like he’d be like clownfish and be able to swim through anemone without getting zapped

Was never good at making friends. The Branzino kid often tried to befriend him but he was too scared of disappointing his parents since Daniela and Mrs. Branzino don’t get along

Wears a seashell anklet

His grandma taught him to read secretly when he was little

Never stops talking. Never.

In class, he’s always the kid raising his hand, even if he doesn’t know the answers, just because of his eagerness

Calls Alberto all the time, more than he calls his family

Carries Alberto’s drawing with him everywhere. Used to be in his pockets and then transferred to his wallet.

Is definitely more of a writer than an artist! With his vivid imagination he can write for days, and Alberto is more than happy to draw them out for him

Lets his hair grow out a bit towards the end of his final school year. The stress of school means he doesn’t quite care for his appearance

Can’t sit still. When he’s at school he’s always fiddling with something but when he’s in Portorosso he just grabs Alberto’s hand and plays with his fingers

Definitely a teacher’s pet

Gets bullied a lot. You can’t expect the world to just be okay with sea monsters overnight. A lot of the world will never accept him. There are kids that make his life a living hell at school.

As much as he loves school, he aches to be free sometimes

Gets super flustered super fast

Sits at Alberto’s side and talks about anything and everything and Alberto will sketch it

His scales are more like a duck’s water-resistant feathers. Water rolls right off.

Loves taking Nerone for walks

Definitely wears skirts and dresses in secret! He just thinks they’re neat :)

Loves romance movies but will never admit it

Literally bites his tongue to hold back from rambling. Giulia and Alberto constantly have to tell him it’s okay and he can talk all he wants, but he’s bullied so often for talking too much that he still holds back if he catches himself

Alberto:

Similar to a Betta Fish! His kind of sea monster aren’t known for bonding well and tend to fight.

When healthy, his scales are long and gorgeous just like a Betta’s! (Giulia is mesmerized by them)

You know how dolphins get high with puffer fish? It’s not just dolphins.

His teeth are a little sharper than most other sea monsters. Yes, he bares them at Ercole every time they see each other. No, he won’t stop

Definitely the “he ask for no pickles” friend

No one knows what he’s talking about half the time except for Luca, Giulia, and (sometimes) Massimo. They just kinda go with it.

Has his own words for everything. Only Luca and Giulia know what he means.

He’s actually super, duper close to Giulia, but they do fight pretty often. They’re siblings.

Likes to put his hat on Luca

Everyone thinks he’d be a bad flirt/get flustered super easily but the opposite is true! He’s a big flirt! He just knows what to say to make others fluster around him! Even if he’s not into you, if your his age or he’s trying to charm you, he’ll flirt up a storm. Living on your own from such a young age means you need to pick up survival tactics, and charm and streetsmarts were the ones he picked up.

Sometimes he faces small boats he sees just for the fun of it

He also sometimes grabs a rope or a net from Massimo’s boat when they’re fishing and just zooms to land to get them there quicker

Loves playing games with the kids when he’s on lifeguard duty, even if it can get him in trouble with his boss

You better bet he makes fun of those school uniforms. He laughs his ass off. He thinks they’re the funniest things.

If he sees or hears even a hint of danger, he is shoving his loved ones behind him and will protect them with his life.

Prefers to be barefoot

Heals surprisingly fast. Something about them fish genes.

When he’s fifteen he jokingly tells Luca he should become a teacher and then Luca’s eyes get all big and excited and Alberto regrets opening his mouth. But he still supports him every step of the way.

Whenever he hears Luca click or chirp, he calls out for him if he’s a distance away or grabs his hand since he recognizes it as echolocation before Luca does

More of a predator fish

Keeps his hair long and growing

I think he’d probably grow a mustache. Giulia hates it so much which is why he keeps it. Okay, he kept it to annoy her, but then he actually started to like it. But when Luca said he liked it, that solidified it

He’s so strong it’s kinda scary. Definitely stronger than the average fisherman, but was stronger even beforehand.

Sometimes just eats fish live and terrifies those around him

He’s super fast! Since he’s based on a tuna or swordfish, he’s pretty quick

Unlike Luca, he’s warm blooded. So when he heard Luca has to keep really warm during winters, he offers most of his clothes

His father abandoning him may seem cruel, but for his kind of sea monsters, it was what had to happen. Still, Alberto is a child and it shouldn’t happen.

Mainly a night eater

Can see further than most of his fishy friends

Good night vision too!

Was taught to read and write as a kid by his father but it’s not perfect so he asks Massimo to do it

Loves playing cards

Fins are sharper than average

Squishes Luca’s cheeks

Sword fights with Giulia except they’re sticks

Whenever Luca falls asleep on him (often), he just stays still and refuses to move

Scoops Luca up sometimes

Grabs Luca’s face and blows raspberries instead of kissing it. (Can be interpreted as platonic or romantic!! Italians kiss on cheeks as greetings)

Protectively wraps his tail around those he loves

Water clings to him a bit more since his built-for-speed scales are less water repellent

Every year he gets scared Luca won’t return

Paints the Hideout to look like Luca’s dream fish-stars after he’s told about it. The ceiling, anyway. Don’t ask how he did it, no one knows.

Changes his last name to Marcovaldo

Thinks pet fish and aquariums are hilarious and will poke fun at the fish (“haha, losers! No freedom!” “Alberto!” “What?!”)

LOVES DINOSAURS

He and Luca share a bed when Luca comes over!

The Vespa poster hangs in his room on his door

Calls Luca’s nightlights “light fish” as a nod to stars

Has Giulia and Luca’s names tattooed onto him because they’re his best friends

Tried to take Caligola and Machiavelli on walks… yeah that goes as well as you think

Giulia:

Is a fast reader

Isn’t a massive poetry fan but does have a few favorites

Also keeps a few drawings from Alberto in her folders

Also scoops Luca up randomly

Can and will bite you

Wears dresses as much as she does shorts

Ties her hair up when serious

Rubs her nose against her family’s as a sign of love. It’s just something she did as a kid, so sometimes she’ll just rub her nose against Alberto’s and he gets really confused

Is low key a little jealous of her brother and best friend being sea monsters

Is a bit of a builder! She makes a bridge from her room to the treehouse

Rarely starts fights with Alberto, but she’ll sure finish them

Half regrets teaching Alberto to swear

Though she seems pretty calm, she’s gotten into her fair share of fights at school. Mainly punches kids who bully her and/or Luca. Also sexists.

Although this is 1950/60s Italy, I imagine she’d be very accepting of homosexuality and not hide it, even if rumors of her being one start spreading and she gets hurt. She has a strong sense of justice and she doesn’t care about consequences.

She’s the only person allowed to make fun of Alberto. No one else is. She’ll quite literally attack anyone who dares.

Her parents were surprised she didn’t take after them in fishing or painting

Honestly I can see her mentoring the kids for the race every summer! Once she hits 18 and is no longer able to compete, she holds practice sessions and loves seeing the kids have fun

She definitely runs the race when she’s older. She moves to Portorosso since her marine biology career is helped by her sea monster brother and the town’s closeness to water

Teaches the boys to make sandcastles

Holds such strong resentment for Alberto’s father and Daniela. Lorenzo and Luca’s grandmother she’s fine with, but Alberto’s biological father abandoning him pisses her off more than she can put into words, and Daniela manipulating her son and sending him away makes her want to break something.

Her “santa (cheese)!” comments slowly change into “Santa (fish)!” exclamations. Like, “Santa Goby!” for example. 

Is more close to Alberto than he wants to let people know. She can read him like a book. He’s honestly her best friend. She tells him everything, they go to each other after nightmares, they share everything, all the fun cute stuff that Alberto would rather die than admit.

Still has no idea what “Silenzio Bruno” and “Piacere, girolamo trombetta” mean and at this point she’s too afraid to ask

Though she loves the Portorosso kids, she’d rather die than be a mother. Her parents understand, but secretly hope she changes her mind so they can spoil a grandbaby. 

Begs Massimo to coverup his sea monster tattoo, which he does

Also a “he ask no pickles” friend!

Is super patient with Luca and Alberto’s adaption to the human world (though she doesn’t like it when Alberto shoves his feet on her-which he loves to do because it pisses her off)

Secretly saves money up for the boys to get a Vespa

While she isn’t the best cook, her pasta meals are pretty damn good! 

Has the trophy from the Cup in her room next to a picture of the three of them on the Vespa

[forbiddensaintessandsinner]

Supernatural Team

(Group Chat: 1)

____________________________

"That night, they can understand now..."

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

TW: Gore, Swearing, Implies of Killings, and etc. (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

Characters Ft:

-Chizuko Miyato, Tatsuo Kimoto, Haruki Aikawa, Sasuke Aikawa.

Mentioned Canon Characters:

-Dire Crowley

Mentioned Characters from others:

-Belia Camton (@fumikomiyasaki)

Chizuko: "Are you sure it's up ahead?"

Haruki: "Just a few more minutes then we're there.."

-It was rather dark and silent, what was heard was the sound of foot-steps and the clicks coming from two flashlights that were turned on. Apparently the Supernatural Team were currently in an underground cavern through its narrow wided tunnel... Around near close to midnight.-

Tatsuo: "Never knew this kind of cavern would have existed underground.."

Sasuke: "Sis and I found it by chance either so, either way it's long for anyone to not be able to return aside from us using this tunnel."

Haruki: "Fair point, it's about 15ft below from both schools, the signal from HSA can't travel underground like this cavern and it's narrow tunnel."

Chizuko: "Needless to say, we've barely meet up as a group ever since we're in this 'strange' wonderland now. Rules on both schools are similar but different from ours back from home."

-Then soon, the group had arrived at an rusty yet a large metal door ahead, the lock looks like a finger lock holder. Haruki stepped forward as she pressed her left thumb onto the lock as the door silently opened.-

-Carefully, Tatsuo and Sasuke held the handle as they slowly opened the door, once the group got inside the room. The steel door automatically closes without a single noise to be heard from above.-

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

-The room they entered was in fact an old laboratory, it looked it was about more than twelve years old but it was still clean. The group had walked into the silent halls as the continuing sounds of their footsteps were heard in the abandoned facility.-

-Then soon they arrived at a room, which it was labeled as 'Experiment Room 150'. Sasuke opened the slide door... Revealing the inside of the room.-

Chizuko: "Huh.. You have a better hiding spot than we did."

Sasuke: "Apparently we did the most work you and Tatsu offered us, yes."

Haruki: "There's a hidden basement from the Ramshackle dorm right? Then leave us to the disposal duty then if you got stockpile."

Tatsuo: "Right.. Both Headmistress Camton and that Crow of a Headmaster would get suspicious if we were to plan something like that."

-The inside of the room and equipment was halfway covered in darkest shade red color of blood that doesn't belong to a human being, except what was standing there was a table.. On the top of that very table was a flesh-eating mutant which it was in fact asleep and was heavily chained, preventing it from escaping from causing another bloody feast.-

-Soon all four then soon gazed at the unconscious monster laying on the table... Each of their expression changed.-

Haruki: "That guy was a big catch, unlike the rest which it didn't bring much of me yet.."

Sasuke: "I'll say so myself, but luck has its worse than being good."

Tastuo: "Bet it's going to be better than last time?"

Chizuko: "Only one way to find out then."

-Yet so.. Despite what they we're in fact doing, it never fazed the four as the mutant woke up and tried to escape, hoping for the chance to attack...-

-.........yet the tables had to be turned... For their very own salvation.-

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

-Well supposedly, the room was now even more stained than ever, there was barely any cleanliness now...-

-The mutant? It's up to your imagination now... For there's not left of it's single remains.. Yet why would anyone take its pity?-

Haruki: "Hah... That was awesome.."

Chizuko: "I agree, it's better than before years ago.."

Tatsuo: "There was atleast plenty enough for us to get.."

Sasuke: "But hey, we got it equal."

-The four semester to have quite the fun in the room needless to say, apparently their now back to normality in the aftermath. Ignoring of how messy they currently are now...-

-...after a minute of silence, a small sincere of a giggle was heard, the remaining three looked at one person.-

Haruki: "Chi-Chi?"

Chizuko: "Sorry but, do remember of how we first met?"

-Ah... In fact, it has been about two years since they last met before their plans of revenge had failed thanks to 'someone'... But then, they went to their separated paths. But alas, who would have thought they would meet again in a strange world like this? But alas, god was never sweet to them..-

Sasuke: "Oh I remember, in fact so does this place down here.."

Tatsuo: "Quite familiar nostalgia, yes.. It is nice to remember those..."

Haruki: "Events that we ever called them as 'memories'?"

Chizuko: "Can agree with Haki there."

-Soon another burst of the team's laughter came... After some time of changing and cleaning up the mess, the return back to their perspective schools.-

-It's been two years... Since their last killing spree as a team..-

[nocapesdahling]

As the World Falls Down - Chapter 1

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Summary: You are the head of Research and Development for your squad in Sokovia and also serve as its handler. Your leader is the esteemed Colonel Helmut Zemo, your best friend though you’ve often sometimes wished that it could be more than that.

Rating: Mature (17+)

There is currently no explicit sexual content planned for this fic, but there may be things heavily implied as we move forward so rating it M to be safe. Please respect the rating.

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Canon pairing of Heike Zemo/Helmut Zemo; implied potential polyamory; Zemo likes to be called Sir; Referenced Age Difference; Angst will be coming in subsequent chapters.

A/N: Hi everyone! Helmut Zemo and this idea would not leave me alone. This is my first reader fic and my first fic published on Tumblr, so I would love to hear what you think. This will be a multi-chapter fic, covering Age of Ultron, Civil War, and TFATWS. The first three chapters will cover AOU. Zemo and everyone in this chapter are speaking Sokovian, but it's written in English. It is assumed that the reader’s nickname exists in the Sokovian alphabet.

Chapter 1: Beneath a Fallen Sky (Age of Ultron) - Part 1

Word Count: 3k

Chapter Summary: Everything was normal. Well as normal as it could be in the day in the life of a handler for a Sokovian covert intelligence squad when robots began to attack Novi Grad and things…well, things went downhill from there.

You had met Baron Helmut Zemo years ago, though you hadn’t known he was a baron back then, in what felt like another life and had been by his side ever since. You served as the tech wizard and handler for his team of EKO Scorpions, outfitting them with gadgets, designing their suits and masks, and acting as tech support for their missions. Zemo had jokingly referred to you as Q when you presented him with his purple mask for the first time and to your slight embarrassment it had stuck. No one on the team had called you anything else since.

Now, machines had attacked Novi Grad and you had to do something for Sokovia, for her people. You tried hacking the machines to no avail. You’d get into one and then it would fall over lifeless as though it never worked in the first place. The algorithm was constantly changing and the AI was too complex without your specially designed work equipment, which was currently in your base miles outside the city and not your apartment, so it was time for plan B.

You focused on getting your people out of the city and saving as many civilians as possible. A swarm of robots attacking seemed like something that would attract the attention of the Avengers, but they weren’t here yet and you couldn’t sit idly by waiting for them to arrive. You called the members of your team and reached almost all of them. They were stationed around the city, doing their parts to help civilians as covertly as possible. Your team was not used to doing anything without their masks, which you did not tend to bring home, but this was an extraordinary situation so you would all do what you must.

You had reached everyone, except Helmut. He wasn’t picking up via his phone or his earpiece, and you couldn’t help but worry about him and his family. You had all been called to (well, ordered if you were being technical) to defend the city, but your squad wouldn’t function the same without its leader.

You needed Colonel Helmut Zemo.

This was the first time in a long time that you had been out in the field, preferring to be behind the scenes, but you were capable and skilled enough to be there. Zemo had made sure of it.

________________________________________________________________

Flashback:

You were designing an exploding pen in the lull between missions, just for fun, when you registered Helmut’s presence in the room. You had no idea how long he had been standing there as you often got lost in your head, especially while working on a diverting project. Your brain flitted from one thought to the next and fixated on solving different problems or creating new gadgets. The outside world became a blur to you. Helmut’s voice was one of the few things that could draw you out of it. It had been like that since you first met him. Maybe, it was the timbre of his voice that always seemed to reach you even when you were figuratively miles away. His deep voice was so lovely.

“How useful do you think that would be, my Q?” Helmut’s voice was amused and fond.

You turned to face your best friend ready to excitedly tell him the multitude of uses for the exploding pen in the field, when your breath caught in your throat. Sometimes, it took you aback how handsome he was. He was wearing his military uniform today and he looked too attractive in it. It wasn’t even fair.

His hair often fell on his forehead, giving you the urge to brush it away. It was difficult for you to resist the urge to touch that lock of hair and him in general, but you were succeeding so far. Somehow. You gave yourself a metaphorical pat on the back for that. You thought you deserved it.

A man shouldn’t look so good with a gun in his hand either, even if it was one you designed. There was something undeniably sexy about the way Helmut used your gadgets, which took you so much time and effort to make. He took the time to understand them and utilize their full abilities. It made you feel like he was making the effort to understand you.

His smooth and confident motions were also mesmerizing to watch via the screen, while you directed the squad on missions. You had never allowed yourself to get too distracted by him, but acknowledged the beauty of his savagery that he occasionally employed to get the job done.

It was a toss up between which look you liked better, the military uniform or the dark purple sweater and coat he wore for certain missions. You had made sure that his shoulder holsters fit under it and that everything looked smooth. God, you loved how he looked in that coat. (You would also admit to admiring how the shoulder holsters looked on him too).

You took him in. His hands were encased in black leather gloves and his hair was mussed from his mask, but he looked good like always even having just come back from a mission. You took a glance down at his hands.

No blood this time, thank goodness.

You attempted to snap yourself out of it, hoping Helmut wouldn’t notice. Your brain was being particularly uncooperative today, pointing out everything you shouldn’t notice. Your mind was filled with of images of how it would feel for Helmut to caress and handle you the way he did the guns and gadgets you presented to him, what the leather of his gloves would feel like on your bare skin, and how it would feel to trace the multitude of scars you knew he received from missions not just on his chest but all over his body.

Maybe, it was time to find a new romantic partner that Helmut couldn’t scare away. He had intimidated the last one away within minutes of meeting them, and you hadn’t bothered to try to meet someone since.

What was the point when Helmut vetoed them as soon as you introduced them?

Given some of your current thoughts, it was probably time to do something about the lack of romance in your life. With your luck however, they would take one look at Helmut and run for the hills in both a figurative and literal sense. The man was quietly intimidating at the best of times, but when he actually tried he oozed danger. You almost couldn’t blame your possible partner. Meanwhile, when his full focus and attention were on you, you felt flustered and hot in a way you had never felt with anyone else though you attempted not to show it. You thought that you had been rather successful at that, though who could tell with Helmut? The man might have known about your crush on him for ages, but hadn’t said anything to save your pride.

(Helmut did in fact know and found it adorable. He and Heike had once mused about adding you as a third and equal part of their relationship, because both had seen the way you watched them even if you might not have noticed them watching you back. That reminded him that he needed to bring that up with Heike once more when he returned home. He schooled his face to give nothing away before continuing to watch you as you stayed lost in your thoughts. He would coax you out of it soon, but enjoyed watching your face as your brain worked.)

You attempted to shake your thoughts away again, knowing that at this point if Helmut hadn’t noticed your inattention before then he certainly had now. The man was happily married to a wonderful and gorgeous woman, who you adored, and you were his son’s godparent for goodness sake. You might have had a chance at one point years ago. You had thought your friendship might have become something more, but that had been before Helmut had met Heike.

What chance did you have with a Baron, anyway?

Helmut had stepped closer, while you were lost in your musings and reached for your hand. “Where have you gone Q, darling? Have I lost you in your head again?”

You snapped out of it and almost jumped back because of his new proximity. His brown eyes bored into yours with slight crinkles in the corners, showing his joking mood. You shook your head and hoped again that he didn’t notice the reason for your distraction, though you didn’t have much hope. The man noticed everything.

“I was just thinking about the improvements I could make to the exploding pen and how you all could use it on your missions!” you exclaimed, excitement in your voice and face as you spoke of your work. You hoped your enthusiasm would divert him from questioning what had distracted you.

Helmut chuckled softly and played along, “May I?”. He indicated the pen that was still sitting in your hand. His lips were slightly upturned. He knew how passionate you got about your gadgets.

“Of course, Colonel,” you smirked back and handed him the pen. Your hands brushed, the leather of his gloves caressing your palm.

Helmut stepped closer to the light and examined the pen. “I can already think of several uses for this, my Q, though I did happen to notice something about this particular pen.” He turned on his heel and held the pen up for your perusal as though you hadn’t spent the last hour examining and perfecting it. You played along, leaning closer as if to examine the pen. Helmut loved his games, and you had never been anything but a willing participant.

“Hmm?” you made a questioning sound as you straightened your blazer and looked away to avoid eye contact in the hopes that he would come closer with your faux avoidance of his question.

You heard him step nearer, knowing that he could walk silently if he chose and that he wanted you to hear him. “Look at me, my Q. Where has this shyness come from, hmm?” His hand was on your chin, tilting your head up before you could respond.

At some point, when you weren’t looking, he had taken his gloves off and you had to stifle a shiver as his gun calloused warm hand touched the bare skin of your face. A brief thought crossed your mind of what that hand would feel like elsewhere before he let you go, staying a little too close for your piece of mind.

“There you are,” He smiled at you, a full one that was more rare than you would have liked. “Now, Q, you know what I noticed? This pen,” and here he drew your attention back to the pen by playfully flourishing it like the showman he was, “is one of mine. I am the only one on the team that uses this brand. Do you know how much a Mont Blanc costs, darling?”

You shook your head and smiled sheepishly. You knew vaguely that they were expensive, but it was the best kind of pen for this sort of thing so you hadn’t thought twice. “No, but it was the most sturdy pen and I knew that you, Boss, would be the one most likely to use it once it was done. So I thought you wouldn’t mind if I used your pen.”

Internally, you wanted to laugh. You knew that Helmut would not have let another member of the squad get away with some of the stuff you pulled. You were the only one who called him Boss, though you had experimented with calling him Sir like the rest of your squad. That had brought an odd light to his eyes that you had never been able to quite decipher. He had almost looked hungry. You refrained from calling him Sir too often after that, except when you really wanted something or intended to tease him.

Helmut smirked at you as he slipped the pen into his pocket, “I’ll be keeping this, Q. Usual activation, I presume?”

You smiled back, attempting to stop yourself from bouncing up and down on your heels. He and the rest of the squad always praised your gadgets, but it gave you a secret and special sort of thrill to have Helmut’s approval in particular. “Of course, Boss.”

“Now, for the actual reason I came here before we got so delightfully distracted by the products of your brain, you and I are going to the gun range. I happened to notice you haven’t been there in some time, Q.”

“I’ve been busy,” you protested while knowing he wouldn’t buy it, “Being the team’s handler and tech wizard is hard work.”

You had never enjoyed committing violence yourself, so tended to avoid the range, though you had never minded watching Helmut on his solo missions and as he lead the team on group missions. The thought passed through your head again that the man looked sexier than he should in full uniform with a gun in his hand. You shook your head in an attempt to dislodge your thoughts. You weren’t sure where they had come from today, but you wanted them to stop and stop now. You resolved once again to pursue a new relationship. Helmut was your friend and could not be anything more, no matter your fantasies and dreams.

“I know you work hard, darling Q, and that you can handle yourself, but you must practice in case the worst were to happen and we needed you in the field. I know you have the needed patience, my Q, with your line of work, but you must gain the experience. A person can do anything if they have those. You can do anything… I’ve known that ever since I first met you when you were a young student. How many grades did you skip again? Look how much you’ve accomplished and you’re still so young.”

You ignored his question about the grades you had skipped. You had been something of a child prodigy and had been younger than the average grad student. “Yeah, yeah, Boss and you’re such an old man. Also, I’m not that much younger than you. Do you remember our first conversation in the library?”

“Of course, Q. I’ll never forget it, even when I am actually an old man. You got my attention by your book selections. Machiavelli and hmm what was the second one?”

You noticed again that Helmut truly was in a joking mood today. The mission must have gone well. They hadn’t needed you to act as the handler for this one, but you were glad there’d been no mishaps. Sometimes, after a difficult mission, Helmut brought his field persona back to the base. During those instances, his demeanor gave off the impression of a man who would do whatever necessary to accomplish his goals. No matter what was required. You hated to say it, but when he was like that you were a little turned on. (Well, more than a little but you weren’t going there at the moment). 

You had always had a thing for intelligent and ruthless men, which now that you thought about it had started once you met Helmut, and his domineering field persona made you feel hot. You gave up on controlling your thoughts today as that seemed to be a lost cause, and internally sighed. Heike was a lucky woman.

“You’ll never let that one go, will you? It was for my course. Read one German erotic book or two, and no one ever lets you forget it.”

“Or two, my Q? Who said anything about a second one?”

“No one. Not me. Moving on, anyway you think anyone younger than you is young, Helmut. Also, you look younger than your actual age.”

“Yes, I know. Helps for undercover missions.”

“Of course, it does. Did you even need those glasses you were wearing when we met or were they just there to make you look more studious?”

He laughed and gestured for you to lead the way to the range, not answering your somewhat rhetorical question. “Let’s go, Q. I have to see how rusty you’ve gotten. Afterwards, perhaps if you’re good, I will teach you how to wield a sword.”

“Oh I’ll show you how good I can be, Sir.”

End Flashback

_____________________________________________________________

Well, the so-called worst had happened and you were out in the field, facing killer robots of all things. You were working in conjunction with your squad to evacuate and protect neighbors and strangers alike, but it was different being out here as opposed to behind a screen. You had finally been able to reach Helmut, and he had gotten Heike and Carl to safety outside the city with his father on their estate. You had breathed a sigh of relief at that. They would be safe there, and you did not need to worry about them. He had also reported that the Avengers had finally arrived and that they had been able to see them from their car window, which meant that it was time for your squad to finish up and get out of there.

Helmut was elsewhere in the city, and your squad was one of the only ones still in Novi Grad proper, so you were spread thin. Yet you couldn’t help but wish to see Helmut, to embrace him for what could be the last time. You had faith in your squad and the Avengers, but this was your country and your people at stake. That unwavering faith lasted until Novi Grad’s, your home’s, streets began to splinter and the city began to lift from the ground faster than you would have thought possible and no one seemed to be able to stop it, not even “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”

[craziest-in-the-guild]

Resolute

Chapter 2 of the Long Night series

Content Warnings: 18+ for some adult themes (still not to the smut, but were headed there) Nightmares/post traumatic stress

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Although this is reader x rex, I couldn't help but make reader a red head. Hope that's ok. Is it dyed? Natural? You decide!

I said goodbye to Kix and handed over his care to my coworker. His ankle was broken in two places, and while it wasn’t bad enough for surgery, it would be soaking in bacta for several hours. I had given him some pain meds and told him to enjoy his rest.

I hated to leave him, but I needed to go home and get ready to ship out in the morning. I needed rest myself, but I knew there was no way I was going to sleep. How could I sleep? I was never meant to be on the battlefield.

_____________________________

Rex headed back to the barracks to tell his men about Kix and their new medic. Kix had assured him that he thought she would be able to handle the stress of a war zone. He hoped for her sake that he had made the right decision.

“Where’s Kix?” Jesse asked as soon as Rex came through the door.

“Kix broke his kriffing ankle and won’t be shipping out with us.”

“Who’s going to be our medic?” Fives asked, “Surely not one of those kriffing med droids!”

“I found a replacement. You know the medic from medbay that patches you all up when you are too drunk from 79’s or hurt from a fight? She is coming with us.”

“HER?” They all asked, surprised.

“Yes, her,” a weary Rex responded. “Kix said he wanted her to be his replacement, and I want you all to make her feel welcome. Afterall, she may save your hide out there.”

______________________

Maker, I had just closed my eyes when my alarm started blaring. The room was cold and my covers were nice and toasty, killing any will I might have had to get up. Why is a bed the most comfortable right when you have to leave?

I grumbled, threw back the covers, and headed to the fresher. I indulged myself, heating the water until it was steaming. I didn’t know how the showers were aboard light cruisers, but I was betting they weren’t this good. My self indulgence couldn’t last too long, or else I’d be running late. Begrudgingly, I turned the water off.

I heard a knock at my apartment door and wondered who it could be at this early hour. I slid on my robe and went to investigate.

“Captain, what are you doing here so early? Am I late?” I crossed my arms to ensure my robe stayed closed, feeling slightly awkward in front of the captain. It didn’t help that he was so handsome. I could feel my cheeks flushing.

“No, I just wanted to come get you so we could go to the quartermaster’s and make sure you have everything you need.”

He handed me a pair of blacks to put on. I was a little confused as blacks were what the troopers wore under their armor.

“Oh, ok, um, do you want to come in while I finish getting dressed?”

The captain seemed surprised that I invited him in. We both stood still in the awkward silence for a moment, both presumably exhausted and not firing on all cylinders. I could see the dark circles under his eyes that indicated he hadn’t slept either. I wondered if he ever really slept.

“I have fresh caf brewing,” I offered.

Fresh caf was enough to lure him in. I brought him a steaming hot cup and then headed to the fresher to get dressed.

“We’re going to outfit you with clone armor for this mission, that’s part of why I’m here early. I wanted to have enough time to get you fitted and dressed. We aren’t used to fitting armor to a woman” Rex said.

“I’d say not. Do you think there will be enough room in the chest?” I quipped. With that, I heard Captain Rex choke on his caf and go into a coughing fit.

“Sorry!” I yelled from the fresher. I could only imagine the look I was getting.

I came out of the fresher to find the Captain as composed as ever. You would have never known that he nearly suffered death by witty comment and hot caf five minutes earlier.

Captain Rex stood and moved to the door, “Ready?”

I grabbed my bag, stepped into the hallway, and paused to look at my small apartment, wondering if I’d ever see it again.

_______________________________________________

We arrived at the quartermaster’s to find a shiny new set of armor sitting on the counter. I immediately grabbed the helmet to try it on, only to find it to be too big. As I turned my head, it shifted from side to side. I couldn’t help but giggle a little, feeling like a child stealing their dad’s helmet. The captain cracked a smile.

“I think you need some extra padding,” he said as he took the helmet off my head. He added a few more pads to help tailor the fit. There hadn’t been time to get me a custom helmet.

“Oh, that’s much better”

“Are you ready to quit playing and try the rest on?” Rex asked with a small smile.

“Go ahead and put on the bottom half, then I’ll help you with the top half”.

The boots fit much better than the helmet. The codpiece was a little awkward, but I figured I’d get used to it, or at least use it to make obscene jokes.

“Here, let me help you with the back plate and breast plate, they’re a bit difficult until you get used to them.”

He snapped on the abdominal plate and then the breast and back plates. He stood behind me, adjusting everything. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and it was sending small shivers down my spine. The Captain was quiet and I yearned to break the silence, but didn’t know what to say.

“Captain-“

“Please call me Rex.” It was nearly a whisper. This sent even more shivers down my spine. Did he know what he was doing to me?

The moment- was it a “moment”?- was shattered.

“Hey! Red on the head, fire in the bed!” Fives hollered from across the room.

I laughed and rolled my eyes back as far as they would go.

He had called me that one night in med bay when he had been brought in, half passed out from a night at 79’s. One look at my red hair, and he’d uttered the phrase that had basically become my nickname. He said it to me every time I saw him in med bay, which was often.

“Fives! How are you? It’s been more than a couple weeks since I’ve seen your drunk carcass in med bay,” I jeered.

“Captain’s been keeping us out in the field a lot lately, he doesn’t believe in fun,” he said with a goofy grin on his face. Rex punched him in the shoulder.

Rex finished adjusting the breast plate and attaching my pauldrons. The left pauldron bore the red and white mark of a clone medic.

Fives had disappeared into the storage room and came back with a medic bag. He blew the dust off of it and handed it to me.

“Here, put this and your helmet on. Let’s see the whole thing,” he said.

I put them on and looked out of the helmet to see Rex and Fives beaming.

“You look great, doc,” Fives said.

“Fives, report to the launch bay, we’ll be along shortly,” Rex ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Fives gave me a salute and a wink as he walked off. I gave him an audible huff and eye roll he couldn’t see through my helmet.

Rex chuckled.

“You’re going to fit in well here, you know.”

—————————

The hangar was a sight to behold with all of the clones in formation.

Rex gave a short motivational speech and ordered everyone into the transports.

“You stay with me, Fives, Jesse, Tup, Echo, Dogma, or Hardcase, and you’ll be fine,” Rex instructed.

I nodded and put my helmet on. I loaded into the crowded transport with them and we headed for the Jedi cruiser Resolute.

Coruscant faded away as we climbed higher.

________________________

The Resolute was bigger than I could have imagined. I had seen holo images of cruisers, but it doesn’t compare to seeing one for real. There were so many ships in the hangars. I walked past an AT-TE and stopped to marvel at the size.

“Wanna see the inside?” Hardcase asked.

“Hell yes I do!”

Hardcase beamed at my enthusiasm. His first loves were weapons and heavy equipment.

“This pretty girl can climb just about anything she encounters. She’s even got magnetized feet so she can climb metal,” he explained as I looked around the cockpit at all the buttons.

“She can even withstand being in space for a bit, since she can be pressurized. Sometime you’ll have to ask Rex about that adventure. Here, I’ll give you a boost up into the gunner’s seat.”

The gunner sat exposed, but I could easily see how it would be fun to mow down droids with the cannon. I looked down to see Rex looking up at us.

“Hardcase, it’s time to get everything ready for tomorrow, there’s lots to be done. Our medic there needs to get to her briefing, too,” he instructed.

“Thanks, Hardcase, this was fun, can you show me more another time?”

“Yep, anytime. It’s always my pleasure to show off my toys,” he had a cheesy grin stretching from ear to ear.

I hopped down and followed Rex to my first briefing.

________________________

Dinner followed the briefing. The boys were rowdy and there was a sense of excitement buzzing in the air. I ate my meal in near silence, being plenty entertained by the crass and ridiculous things the men of the 501st were discussing. It was clear that it helped keep their minds off of the coming battle.

It was late when I retired to my quarters, hoping to get a few hours of rest.

______________

Geonosis was barren, except for various rock formations. The night was eerily dark and Rex was alone. He walked the desert landscape, looking for any signs of life. He tried his comm again, only to be answered with broken static.

The Captain finally saw something in the distance, although he could not make it out. As he approached the shapes, Rex found Fives, Jesse, and her, laying on the ground. He removed their helmets, only to see dark voids where their eyes had been. Blood started pouring out of the chasms. Their lifeless bodies suddenly sat up, repeating “It’s your fault we’re dead.”

Rex’s eyes shot open and he awoke to find he was still in his bunk. He was covered in sweat and his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

It was just a nightmare.

The nightmares never stopped.

Being a soldier was hard, but being a leader was harder. He never stopped wondering if he made the wrong decisions. He never stopped worrying about his vod. So many had died, and he still carried each one with him.

He decided to go to the mess hall for some caf. Might as well since he couldn’t sleep anyway. Rex walked past his men to the door. He was relieved to see Fives, Jesse, Tup, Echo, Hardcase, and Dogma, all asleep, snoring, in their bunks. He looked around and wondered which men he would lose tomorrow. A tear escaped and he let it fall, knowing that no one would see. He wiped the tears away and continued towards the mess.

The door slid open. The mess was empty except for her. She had her head down on a table, red hair splayed over her arms. He wondered how long she’d been here. Rex walked to her, gently calling her name. She didn’t even flinch. A cup of caf was beside her, ice cold, indicating she had been there for some time.

Rex laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Wake up, cyar'ika, you’ll be much more comfortable in your bed.”

She drowsily raised her head and brushed her hair back.

“Rex?” she asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s me. C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your quarters.”

She stood up and stretched. There were lines across her face from where it had rested on her arm. Rex couldn’t help but smile.

They walked back to her quarters, making small talk along the way.

“I’m nervous, that’s why I couldn’t sleep,” she said spontaneously.

“I would expect you to be nervous,” he assured, “I won’t sugar coat it and say that it will be easy. It will likely be a bloodbath. But, we’ll be there to help you. We will get through this together.”

They stopped in front of her door and she turned to Rex, laying a hand on his arm.

“Thank you, Rex,” she said and then disappeared into her room.

He stood at the closed door for a minute, her touch still lingering.

“Sleep well, mesh’la.”

_________________________________________

I woke up early so I could check my medic bag and have a cup of caf before deploying.

The mess hall wasn’t busy, but there were a few clones up and about. I grabbed my caf and scanned the room. Jesse saw me and waved me to a table with him, Dogma, Echo, and Tup.

“ ‘Mornin, boys.”

“ ‘’Mornin, Doc,” they replied in near unison. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to call their medics “doc”. Field medics did it all.

“Where’s Fives and Hardcase?” I inquired.

“Those two will sleep til the last second,” Dogma said as he rolled his eyes. I’d been told Dogma was a stickler for rules. I expected he was early for everything.

I sat down next to Jesse, started sipping my caf, and inventorying my bag.

Bacta? Check.

IV supplies? Check.

Normal saline? Check.

Lasted ringers? Check.

Bandages? Check.

Tourniquets? Check.

The bag didn’t hold much, but it was enough to get the men back to the field hospital. I sat the bag on the floor and joined the conversation.

“You ready, Doc?” Tup asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. You boys just try to keep from getting blown to bits and I’ll be fine,” I jeered. They laughed in agreement.

“Seriously? I’m scared shitless, but I know you guys have my back and that makes it better,” I admitted.

“It’s ok, I think everyone but Hardcase was scared on their first mission,” Jesse said.

I’d met Hardcase a few times in med bay. He never backed down from a fight, in fact, he usually went looking for it.

Our comms lit up and a voice announced that we needed to report to our gunships. We cleared the table and headed down to the hangar. As we entered the elevator, Fives and .

Hardcase came running down the hall,

“Hold the door, wait for us!” Fives shouted.

I held the door for them. Both were still finishing putting on their armor. I smiled and shook my head.

“Whhhaaattt?” Fives asked with a smile. “Better late than never, right?”captain

[not-poignant]

I was lurking in the discord, but I was wondering what exactly about Ef would classify him as a "soft client" to Dr. Gary? Is it just because he recognized that Ef is incredibly capable of loving underneath his trauma? Or like because he hadn't had like extreme cases of violence for a period of time? Or is it just like a combination of everything haha

We’ll probably have to give some actual context to Dr Gary’s job here, which I know I’ve done before but I can’t be bothered looking for the ask/s so I’m going to do it here in more detail.

Just a heads up that there will be a frank discussion/detailing of very disturbing themes which will include the malicious rape and murder of minors. (I.e. things that we do not deal with directly in the Spoils of the Spoiled universe at all). Mentions of client death by suicide.

Dr Gary is a specialist psychologist who actually focuses in on the clients that no one else wants to see. That doesn’t include people like Efnisien. Dr Gary sees the teenagers who have been raping their parents or terrorising them for years because it’s fun, he sees the juveniles who have raped or shoved foreign objects into their toddler siblings and killed them through mass internal bleeding, and felt nothing else about it except ‘well I ruined that one and now I think I’d like to find another one.’ He sees teenagers that are resistant, usually hit every part of the Macdonald Triad, have often/usually killed already, or have certainly raped before in a malicious or serial fashion, and almost always express no or minimal remorse for their actions.

They are manipulative, pathological liars who have very little interest in respecting the mental health system or psychologists, they often don’t want to get better, or show minimal interest in getting better, and they have a high recidivism rate (i.e. rate of going right back out there and committing crimes). A significant percentage of Dr Gary’s clients have eventually gone on to commit suicide or end up in maximum security prisons.

But Dr Gary is - due to his own personal interests, and due to his set of skills - suited to specifically helping these people, and also, he has a strong belief that everyone deserves some form of assistance, and that no one should be refused genuine psychological help just because other people believe they should be, as an example, put to death or sent to jail forever. Especially - to him - when they’re teenagers or young adults. He recognises that just because people don’t want to deal with these teenagers, doesn’t mean they don’t exist, or they don’t deserve help. He recognises that most of society will wash their hands of them and pretend they don’t exist, and he will metaphorically push his sleeves up and get to work. He strongly believes that ignoring the problem doesn’t make it go away, and jailing the problem is rarely effective on its own.

This is one of the reasons why he falls back on ‘I don’t believe in good or bad people, I believe in good or bad actions.’ If he can reduce the rate of criminal activity, or change the action profile of these clients, even if they still want to behave maliciously, he considers himself on a successful journey. But it also means he works closely with juvenile detention facilities, created Hillview himself, and works closely with outpatients. (As well as in consultation, teaching, and sometimes working in court cases as a specialist). There’s a reason Mack has desk alarms and a sophisticated protection system and it’s not because of people like Efnisien; though Dr Gary wouldn’t see the most dangerous ones at his private office anyway.

I’m sure, when Dr Gary started out, he took more of a mix. But he soon distinguished himself as someone who was not only willing to take on those clients, but was actually more able to get results because his compassion is genuine (let’s be real, psychologists are only human, and a lot of them - despite their best efforts - are still going to really fucking resent someone who raped and murdered a toddler for the lolz), but so is his Take No Shit attitude. So after a while, he was only getting referrals for the most serious clients. And then he had so many of those, he had to assemble a team of specialists, and that was basically how Hillview was born.

In the end, his spectrum of clients were among the most difficult and some of the most dangerous. When Efnisien antagonised Dr Gary by saying ‘how have some of your clients not tried to kill you’ Dr Gary was probably thinking ‘oh, they have, they have.’ I like to think Dr Gary actually has a giant scar along his flank from a time when he was much younger, hubristic and under-estimated one of his clients, and that after that he got a lot more serious about his work and also his willingness to have security standing nearby when he’s working with the most serious ones.

Even his team of specialists take difficult and high risk clients, but Dr Gary is just known in the system as taking the worst of the worst (kind of like how Mikkel is known as being a public defender of domestic violence victims specifically). And these people do get known in the system. A lot of psychologists either won’t take on certain clients or do very poorly with them because they don’t want them or don’t have the tools to handle them or just are manipulated by them. So juvenile detention centres, lawyers, other psychologists and psychiatrists and facilities begin to get a bead on the specialists who will actually help, or at least try. And then they call them incessantly, forever. Dr Gary is a busy, tired man who tries to take at least two weeks off a year to sit on a beach and stare at the water lol.

Efnisien by comparison to Dr Gary’s other clients, molested people his own age - led to it by coercion, never raped anyone, and tortured animals. That’s still terrible, absolutely, but by comparison, he’s just not anywhere near the same calibre as any of Dr Gary’s other clients. He’s someone who is capable of remorse and demonstrated that before Dr Gary ever met him. He’s someone who literally has stopped hurting all animals and people by the time he’s placed in the hospital. And a quick interview with Dr Gary revealed he wasn’t a ‘psychopath’ as Gwyn thought he was, but someone with Pure O and complex PTSD who was exploited into acting on intrusive thoughts by an abuser (which we learn at the end of Spoils of the Spoiled, when Gwyn realises that Efnisien probably never would have grown up the way he did if it wasn’t for Crielle and it makes him very sad). As soon as Dr Gary realised that, he was like ‘oh no, turf him onto someone else, that’s too easy.’

The only reason he took him on was due to a complicated set of factors, including guilt and remorse that Efnisien was molested/sexually assaulted in Hillview by the psychologist that Dr Gary referred him to.

But being referred to Henton in the first place doesn’t mean Efnisien doesn’t have serious mental disorders (he does), and it doesn’t mean Efnisien doesn’t need serious care (he does), he just doesn’t represent the bulk of Dr Gary’s high risk clients. He’s an outlier. Efnisien feels his feelings and ultimately is a very soft person, not just a soft client. He wants to please everyone, he actually hates hurting people, he’s nervous and shy and fidgety, he’s sensitive and responsible and empathetic, and his biggest misfortune was needing to please a psychopath growing up that he was completely dependent on in order to live, who constantly reminded him that he was abandoned and that he’s only worth loving when he’s good (i.e. doing what he she wants), so he had no other choice. And his story or journey is literally the uncovering of his real self, or the self he is without being under the influence of Crielle. And he rebelled against that influence under his own steam, and she tried to kill him for it.

I also think Efnisien is helping Dr Gary realise that he maybe doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life working with ‘the worst of the worst’ just because no one else is equipped to handle them. Even if it can be rewarding at times.

These days he’s building a curriculum to educate more psychologists in aberrant psychology, and developing genuine compassion in the face of aberrant and malevolent behaviour and holding a centre in the face of that, and looking to spread the load a bit more, and work more as a supervisor for other psychologists who are learning how to deal with these clients. He’s realised that clients like Efnisien make him feel a lot more hopeful about the human race overall (not that he was ever a nihilist), and that maybe Efnisien shouldn’t be the only one. But we’re never going to learn that in the story, because it’s not a ‘Dr Gary story’ lol.

[ancientwastedlores]

Undone by “Darling”

REQUEST (from @november-solarstorms​): Celebrating another year of this earth being braced by Tom Hiddleston's presence! Lol. Might I make a prompt request? I feel as though it would be interesting to read from Loki's POV to explore the dynamics between him and a human female who is just as intelligent as he. She has a sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Her sarcastic and clever nature enable her to out-banter Tony Stark, the king of snark himself (may he rest in peace). But she is also just as flirtatious and salacious. She never blushes, never falters, and is incredibly clever. You can decide the nature of their encounter. Really im just in it for a good game of cat and mouse.

A/N: Okay, I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!! And yeah, this will run a bit longer than my usual fics lol. Also, there IS a Loki POV, just keep reading thaaanks <3

WARNINGS: none. 

WORD COUNT: 1,932

____________________________________________________________________

Undone by “Darling” 

17 hours and 6 white chocolate mochas later, it was finally ready - an upgraded version of Corvus Glaive’s glaive, this one spec-ed out to your fancies and requirements. It was a beast, and definitely not something Nick Fury would ever let you play around with, even if you made it. 

Satisfied with your work, you remove your safety goggles and grin at Stark, who is working on his own weapon he scavenged from the Black Order. 

‘I’m done!’ you say triumphantly, causing him to look up and groan.  ‘How did you finish before me!?’ he lowers his glasses and looks at your weapon.  ‘I’m smarter’ you say.   ‘I went to MIT’  ‘And I didn’t, yet here we are, both in the same lab’. 

He shakes his head, not unlike a petulant child, causing you to laugh. 

‘How far along are you?’ you ask.  ‘Still running diagnostics’.  ‘Still!?’  ‘Have you seen the size of his hammer?’ he gestures to Cull Obsidian’s chain hammer on his work table, but the innuendo doesn’t escape you and you grin at him. He facepalms. ‘Y/n, for god’s sake...’  ‘You’re just tired, or you’d appreciate the joke too’. 

You stretch your weary body and let out a deep breath. You’d test the weapon out tomorrow, but for now, you need a nap. 

‘Take a load off, Stark. Hammer’ll be there tomorrow’.  ‘Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you...’ he puts his goggles back on and get to work. 

xx

Loki’s POV: 

Humans are surprising, but I always knew that. I never thought them boring, even if my brother says I do. Humans are of so little power but such incredible resilience that it’s frankly astonishing. I am inclined to believe that sometimes resilience is just stupidity... in most cases, I am right. But that’s not to say I haven’t come across some truly brave people. 

Take the Avengers Tower, for example. 

Just in here, you have Y/n, a brave soldier with the mind of an intergalactic scavenger, and I do mean that as a compliment. She’s awfully clever, she can build better than Stark, and has a track record of finishing every mission to perfection and before time. And then you have the Super Soldier Steve Rogers, a big muscled, big hearted idiot who often mistakes challenging our enemies for bravery and morality. 

The two couldn’t be more different, but they get along like siblings. Not siblings like Thor and I... better adjusted, perhaps. 

They sit in front of me, talking about some mission while they play Chess. Her moves are quick but calculated, his take more time because he’s more interested in telling his story than playing the game. 

‘...so there I am, no weapons, no shield, bang in the middle of the Serpent Citadel...’ 

He’s a good storyteller, I’ll give him that. But not as good as Y/n. She paints quite a picture, full of delicious gory details and horribly dark jokes. 

‘Steve, you have to pay attention, you’re losing’ she says.  ‘Yeah, I don’t actually know how to play chess, I just wanted you to listen to my story’. 

She looks up at him, almost offended. ‘STEVE...’  ‘Cool, I’m gonna go wrap Stark into a game of Battleships and tell him about my fight with Copperhead’. 

She laughs as he leaves the room, and she puts the chess pieces away. 

‘We could play?’ I ask her.  ‘Is the God in a mood to lose?’  ‘Over confidence isn’t attractive in anybody’. ‘Oh darling, neither is telling someone what is and isn’t attractive’. 

She’s never called me that before, and in the context it should seem cutting, but it isn’t. ‘Darling?’  ‘Problem?’  ‘It’s quite a term of endearment to set someone straight’. 

She says nothing. 

‘Cat got your tongue?’ I tease her. She only smiles and continues putting the pieces away neatly. Stark’s chess set is gold and black, all individually carved pieces. The pawns are all Iron Man suits, but that’s to be expected. She handles them with the care Stark would. 

‘I mean...’ I continue, ‘honestly, if someone heard, they’d never let you live it down’. 

And she carries on, unbothered. 

‘Y/n!’  ‘Oh dear, look at you come completely undone with just one term of endearment’ she comments, shutting the chess set. ‘Whatever would happen if I held your hand?’ 

The very thought of it seemed to drain my brain of blood. I unwillingly glanced at her hands, working the lock mechanism of the box, her blue veins prominent. 

‘Cat got your tongue?’ she asked. 

I stood up, the human emotion of embarrassment becoming too familiar for me. ‘I’ll have to see you at lunch’.  ‘Sure, darling’. 

Oh, I hate how she’s enjoying this. 

----------

The next day, Y/n booked a training room to test out the Glaive, and Stark had a rusty but working chain hammer. Steve insists on trying it out anyway, and now our breakfast is being spent on discouraging him from doing that. 

‘Guys... if nothing else, I’ll still have my shield. Let me test it out!’  ‘Y/n’s glaive cuts through Vibranium, you know that, right?’ Stark says.  ‘Y/n wouldn’t do that’. ‘Oh yes she would’ Y/n says nonchalantly as she sinks her teeth into a bacon and egg sandwich. 

As she does, the yolk runs down her fingers. She makes a sound at the inconvenience and sets the sandwich down, then grabs a napkin. I’m hardly ever crude, but the energy it took not to take her hand and lick off the yolk myself could burn every star in the galaxy. 

Captain America scrunches his nose at her remark, severely offended. 

‘In any case, that shield barely covers your giant body. It will force Stark to make you a new one’.  ‘What do you care about his giant body’ Stark says.  ‘It’s America’s ass, Tony’ she takes a sip of her iced coffee. Steve blushes, and Tony rolls his eyes. 

----------

The training facility is magic, of course, somewhere between a mirror dimension and Wanda’s reality powers creating a safe cocoon inside the building so no one can be harmed. Y/n hardly trusted anybody to fight with her except Thor, but given the nature of Corvus’ Glaive, she knew magic would be required. 

And so she called me. 

After getting into my battle armour, I stepped into the facility, equipped with my sceptre and the teachings of the witches of Asgard. 

She whistles as I walk in. ‘Trying to distract me from killing you?’  ‘Are you?’ I ask. She’s dressed in a black bodysuit, details of purple in her belt and weapon harnesses.  ‘Why yes, I am. Glad you noticed’. 

The glaive is on the floor, and she stomps her foot on one part of it so it swivels up and neatly places itself in her hand. She smiles. 

‘Try to keep up. I’m not just looking for eye candy in a training partner, darling’ she says, getting into battle stance. 

With nothing left to say for the second time this week, I aim the sceptre at her and the stone at the end glows. 

She charges and I shoot at her, but she spins the glaive and creates a shield which absorbs the energy. 

She continues to charge at me. I shoot again, and again the glaive takes the hit. Not a scratch on her. 

Once she comes closer, she simply places the flat end of the weapon against my chest, sending me hurtling back into a wall. 

She spins the glaive and laughs. 

‘Compliments of Wakanda. It absorbs any hits and charges up with kinetic energy’. 

I get up on my feet. This is far from over. I create multiple illusions to surround her, all of them brandishing knives, Chitauri tech, and sceptres. 

‘Damn, suddenly my whole evening has opened up’ she says, looking around.

Even my clones look around at each other puzzled. 

‘Come on then, who’s up?’ she spins the glaive around. ‘One at a time or all at once, baby’. 

They charge at her, and I expected her to fight them off at once... instead she plants the staff on the ground and ducks, and a semi-circle shell grows from the top of the staff, down to the floor... like a mini fortress, completely impenetrable. It could, no doubt, continue to take hits and build up kinetic energy, so I call off the clones. 

She gets up and retracts the shell. ‘Nanotech’ she grins at me. ‘The whole shell sits in a disk. It can withstand bombs and even a moon’.  ‘Is there any tech you haven’t adopted?’  ‘I’m an intergalactic scavenger, aren’t I?’ 

I stare at her, horrified. Can she read minds? 

‘Maybe I can. Or maybe I heard you tell Stark when he was complaining about me finishing my weapon first’. 

Silence. 

‘Also, darling, you’re awfully predictable in your fighting’. 

She picks up every trick and tech she sees, so beating her is less about weapons and more about cunning. 

No problem. Cunning is my specialty. 

‘Ready now?’ she asks.  ‘Mhm’. 

She takes a deep breath to ready herself, her eyes shutting slightly. Once they open back up, she stares in shock. 

In my Jotun form, I give her my most menacing smile.

She cocks her head to the side, studying my icy blue skin. 

The illusion I cast of myself approaches behind her, dagger in hand. Once it’s close enough and I can almost taste my victory, she raises the glaive and in one swift motion, sticks it into its abdomen. 

The illusion disappears into green light. 

‘Cute’ she remarks. She points the glaive at me. ‘What else you got for me?’  I shift back to my Asgardian form and sigh. ‘You win’. 

Y/n laughs and lowers her weapon. ‘Oh darling, I won the second you walked in wearing all that leather’. She winks at me, then walks out of the facility. I feel a blush creep to my face, much against my will. 

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

‘Maybe you should stick to your guns, Tony’ Y/n says, ‘Fancy suits is it for you, chain hammers may be overshooting it’.  ‘Is that what they taught you in the back alley you learnt ironmongery from?’  ‘Yes! Do you want their number, I’m sure they’ll have a spot on the waiting list for you’. 

Ah. Y/n’s relationship with Stark seemed more like mine with Thor. While they banter, Steve and Natasha tear up from laughing. I wouldn’t go so far as to call this domestic, but it certainly is comfortable. 

‘Come on, the glaive can’t be that good, right Loki?’ Stark asks. 

The company looks at me expectantly. ‘To say her weapon isn’t good enough means to insult your own tech, Stark. Everything about it is founded on your theories’. 

‘So technically, it’s my brain that made the glaive so cool’ he tells Y/n.  ‘Yeah, you could say that. The glaive comes from the same mind that manufactured Captain America’s dinner plate’. 

Steve doesn’t find that one funny, but Natasha does, sending her into peals of laughter. 

‘Oh whatever’ Tony huffs. ‘I’m going back to the lab’. 

He stands up and Y/n grabs his arm. ‘Aww Tony, I’m just kidding!’ she pats his hand, ‘Look, you’re a brilliant inventor, we all have our slow days’. 

He sighs and nods, and holds her hand. ‘Thanks... I guess I’m just not in my element, you know?’  ‘Yeah...’ she keeps patting his hand. 

And the feeling of domesticity creeps in. We really are all a family. Y/n smiles encouragingly at Tony, and Tony seems more relaxed. 

‘So, you want me to get you the number of that ironmongery, or...?’  ‘OH FOR...’ he snatches his arm away and storms out of the room, with Steve and Nat losing it all over again. 

___________________________________________________________

Ah this was so fun!!!!!!!! I hope you guys liked it <3 

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[refinedbuffoonery]

Looking Through A Window (3)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Fun fact: the final scene of this chapter is part of my original brainstorm for this fic. The rest of the scenes I initially dreamt up won’t come until much later, so I’m thrilled to have at least one of them come early on in the story. 

To Carrie and Anna, the lights of my life: I named the neighbor after you two. She’s annoying as shit and nothing like either of you, but I needed a name and decided if anyone deserves to have their name as an Easter egg, it’s the two of you. 

*****

Despite the storm, Matty has the shipment of borrowed guns delivered to the Port of Houston in the middle of the night. While they eat breakfast, Mac and Riley study Matty’s excruciatingly detailed directions for navigating the port and finding their shipping crate. She certainly didn’t make it easy on them. 

Riley leans back in her chair, looking around until her eyes land on Harley. “Time for you to earn your keep,” she says between mouthfuls of toast. 

Supposedly, this is what Harley specializes in—sniffing out weapons. The dog should be able to confirm which shipping container the guns are stashed in without Mac or Riley having to check themselves. Theoretically. 

Mac finishes his own plate of eggs and toast in a few ravenous bites. “Thanks for making breakfast.” He gets up to clear the plates and start rinsing dishes. After living with her for more than a year, Riley making breakfast is routine, but Mac still thanks her for it every day. 

Living in the apartment together, they fall right back into their old habits. Mac wakes up early and goes for a run. By the time he returns, Riley is awake and making breakfast. After they eat, Mac showers while Riley goes on her own run. And so on and so forth. 

While Mac was out this morning, he wove through the whole neighborhood, making sure it’s safe for Riley to go out alone. She can handle herself, but Mac has no delusions about the overall quality of men on the streets, and even though he can’t fix that, at least he can help minimize her chances of encountering creepy dudes. 

Before they leave for the Port, Mac and Riley scour their car for a bug or any other surveillance equipment the organization might’ve hidden while they were inside the warehouse talking to Conrad yesterday. They find none. Thankfully. 

Once again, they’re going in armed, and the weight of Mac’s gun feels just as foreign and unwelcome as it did yesterday. He tries not to fidget with it while Riley drives, but she notices his discomfort anyway. “You’ve got to relax,” she says. “All your squirming is stressing me out.” 

“Sorry.” Mac stills, even though his whole body screams to put the gun somewhere else. 

Anywhere else. 

Once they arrive at the Port, Mac guides Riley through the maze of cranes and crates and warehouses until they find the one Matty had the guns stashed in—dark green and otherwise nondescript. 

Unfortunately, there are multiple shipping containers that fit that description at the location Matty provided. As they get out of the SUV, Riley glances between the boxes nervously. “Uhh, which one is it?” 

Mac doesn’t have a clue. “I guess that’s for Harley to tell us.” He looks down at the dog standing obediently beside him. “Find it.” 

He releases the leash as Harley takes off like a rocket, sniffing each container and the surrounding area. She inspects more than half of them before sitting and looking back at Mac. He waits for her to bark, but she doesn’t. Whoever trained her clearly did so with stealth in mind. 

“Do we open it to double check?” Riley asks. 

Mac opens his mouth to say yes, but he doesn’t get a chance to answer before a muddy, dark-blue diesel truck parks beside their SUV. Conrad jumps out of the driver’s seat, accompanied by two younger men, wearing matching scowls and Carhartt jackets. He walks with that same entitled swagger, and a cheap smile spreads across his face. 

“Mr. Turner!” Conrad exclaims, shaking Mac’s hand. His grip is too firm to be friendly. Stepping back, he sneers at Riley, acknowledging her just long enough to impatiently say, “Genevieve.” Mac doesn’t miss the way Conrad’s eyes drop to Riley’s chest, nor the way Riley bristles beside him, wrapping her jacket more tightly around her and crossing her arms to hold it in place. Mac clears his throat. “Sorry,” Conrad says, not sounding sorry at all, “but your wife is very attractive.” 

Riley rolls her eyes so hard they nearly fall out of her head. 

“Your order is this way,” Mac says, cutting off Conrad before he could make another gross statement, “Follow me.” Mac puts a hand on Conrad’s shoulder, squeezing hard as he steers the man toward the shipping container. Harley is still sitting beside it, waiting patiently, and Mac scratches her head with his free hand. 

Riley whistles, a single sharp note that sends Harley running back to her side. Mac buries his relief that she’s not alone, although he’d still much rather the hulking bodyguards were closer to him than Riley. 

Focus, Mac reminds himself. Riley can hold her own. Just get this over with. 

Mac opens the container, revealing two nondescript wooden crates. Still sneering—at this point, Mac’s starting to think that’s the only expression Conrad is capable of—Conrad waves over his bodyguards, gesturing for them to open the crates. 

For just a second, Conrad’s sneer edges toward a smile. Inside the crates lie exactly what he ordered: military-grade, semi-automatic rifles and enough ammo to kickstart the apocalypse. Mac’s gut churns. He hates this. He hates everything about this. He hates that he’s arming terrorists. He hates how these men look at Riley like dogs drooling over a steak. He hates that he can’t do anything about any of it, that he has no choice but to play along. 

Mac wishes he could bury his feelings the way Riley does, locking them behind a carefully controlled mask. Instead, his linger just beneath the surface, waiting to make themselves known at the first available opportunity. 

Counting backward from five, he steels himself to finish the game. Just as Conrad brushes a reverent finger down the barrel of a rifle, Mac chides, “We followed through on our end of the bargain. Did you?” 

“Of course.” 

One of the bodyguards pulls out his phone. In a deeper voice than Mac expects, he says, “We can wire the payment to your bank account right now.” 

“Good. My wife will help you set that up.” Mac gestures to Riley, and the bodyguard walks over to her. 

Conrad extends his hand, and Mac takes it, trying not to wince when his arm brushes his concealed gun. “Pleasure doing business with you, James,” Conrad says. 

“I hope this is the beginning of a long and prosperous partnership.” Long and prosper? Who was he, Spock? 

“Indeed. Welcome to the Patriots.” Conrad gestures for his men to start loading the guns into their truck. “Expect another order within the week.” 

Mac doesn’t know how to respond to that. Thankfully he doesn’t have to, because Riley waves him over, apparently having finished her conversation with Conrad’s lackey. “I’ll leave you to it,” Mac says, then turns his back on the terrorists and rejoins Riley. On instinct, he reaches for her arm as he murmurs, “Are you okay?” 

Riley tenses under his touch, but doesn’t pull away. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“Good.” He said the same thing to Conrad just a minute ago. Good. But the word is light years different from before—soft and caring, not curt and vaguely challenging. Bozer pointed it out to him once, how he talks to Riley differently than he does anyone else. 

Mac shakes off the thought. He can’t get distracted, no matter how much his mind only wants to think about Riley. Releasing her arm, he says, “Let’s get out of here.”

*****

Back at the apartment, Riley settles in on the couch to dig into the Patriots' bank records. By wire-transferring the money instead of paying them in cash, Conrad practically offered up the organization's entire digital footprint on a silver platter, at least to someone like Riley. She doesn't speak as she works, so Mac listens to the melody of keyboard clicks while he makes them each a grilled cheese. 

Contrary to popular belief, he's not completely incompetent, although Bozer has nearly everyone convinced otherwise. Mac will never be able to cook something fancy, but he does make a mean sandwich. 

He even spreads mayo on the bread, the way Bozer does, because Riley prefers it that way. 

The sizzle of the sandwiches hitting the hot pan joins the keyboard clicks right as Riley announces, "I hacked into their bank records." 

"What've you got?" 

"From the look of it, the shell corp they used to pay us has only been around for four months. Before that, they must've either paid in cash or used personal accounts." 

"That makes sense though, since the Patriots haven't been around all that long." 

"That's what I thought at first, but come look." Mac does, leaning over the back of the couch so his head is right beside hers. Riley points at the screen. "The first three transactions were all big deposits, each one two weeks apart." 

Frowning, Mac squints at the tiny numbers on the screen. "One hundred thousand dollars?" 

"Times three deposits," Riley adds. 

"Where the hell did they get that kind of money?"

"I don't know. The deposits were cash." 

“Damn. Did you at least figure out who their previous arms dealer was?” 

“Yeah.” Riley shifts, causing her hair to tickle Mac’s nose, and he brushes her hair to the opposite side of her neck without another thought. “Turns out their previous dealer has Mexican cartel connections, which explains why the Patriots only paid them twice. I’m guessing they found out about the cartel part and broke it off before they made a long-term deal.” 

“At least they’re not complete idiots,” Mac mumbles. Tired of squinting, he leans closer to better see the screen. 

Except now they’re cheek to cheek, and Mac suddenly can’t focus on the screen at all. 

Riley twists to look at him, and it takes every ounce of Mac’s willpower not to glance at her lips. "Are you burning my grilled cheese?" 

"No." He straightens, simultaneously disappointed and relieved by the space now between them. Mac shakes off the thought. He can’t keep getting distracted like this. 

"Uh huh. Sure." 

Retreating to the kitchen, Mac calls, "That was one time!"

*****

As expected, they don’t hear anything from Conrad or the Patriots the following day. Mac doesn’t know what to do with all the downtime on this op. There are plenty of books in the apartment, but he’s too restless to sit and read. He opens the fridge, more out of boredom than actual hunger. 

They’re on day five of the undercover op, and it’s starting to feel an awful lot like quarantine. With nothing to do but hurry up and wait, hanging out in the apartment and doing nothing is starting to make Mac go a little stir crazy. 

When Riley emerges from the bedroom wearing workout clothes, it’s clear she feels the same way. “I’m going for a run,” she announces. 

“Want company?” He hopes she says yes. Anything to get out of the apartment for a while. 

Riley unplugs her phone from the charger and slides it into her pocket. “No offense, but no.” 

Dammit. Mac shoves down his disappointment. “None taken.” He closes the fridge. Nothing in there looks good. 

“Tell you what,” she says. “After I get back we can go to the space museum, okay?” 

His heart skips a beat at her offer. “Is it that obvious I’m bored?” 

“Yes.” Riley gives him a pitying smile. “So do you want to go?” 

Mac smiles. It feels like she just asked him out on a date. It’s not, but it feels like one anyway. Be cool. “What kind of question is that? Of course I do.” 

“Okay then.” Popping in her earbuds, she walks out the door. 

“Enjoy your run, muffin!” Mac calls, stealing Bozer’s go-to pet name for when he’s undercover with Riley. She reaches back inside to flip him off before slamming the door shut, and Mac chuckles. Riley really hates that nickname.

Now it’s just him, Harley, and this tiny apartment. 

Resuming his search for food he’s not even hungry for, Mac opens the pantry, and Harley comes running into the kitchen. She must’ve learned the sound of the door opening since they keep the dog food in there. Harley looks up at Mac expectantly. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” She whines, and her pleading expression reminds Mac of the wide-eyed look Bozer mastered as a kid while begging his parents for something. Neither are very effective. “You just had breakfast an hour ago,” he insists.  

Harley glances at the open pantry, then back at him. 

Mac doesn’t give in, but he does kneel to pet her instead, scratching Harley’s neck and ending up with a handful of hair. Frowning, Mac digs through every drawer in the kitchen in search of a dog brush. No luck. He checks the bedroom and bathroom, coming up empty once again. Who even organized this house? It makes no sense. His gaze lands on the laundry room door. 

Ah. 

Sure enough, there’s a dog brush on the shelf above the washing machine. 

Leash and brush in-hand, Mac calls out, “Alright, girl. Let’s go de-floof you.” 

Harley takes one look at the brush and sprints in the other direction. 

Well this is going to be harder than Mac anticipated. 

He ends up chasing Harley throughout the apartment, zig-zagging from one room to the next. Every time Mac gets close, Harley slips by, just out of reach. After the fourth time she sends Mac stumbling into the furniture after lunging for her and missing, he realizes what she’s doing. 

Harley is playing him. This is a game to her. And, so far, she’s winning. 

Mac stares the dog down, and she seems to narrow her eyes in response. “Challenge accepted,” he tells her. 

This time, he knows exactly where to find what he’s looking for—peanut butter. He smears an unnecessarily large glob into Harley’s dog bowl, making sure she sees exactly what he’s doing. Harley’s stubborn, and does a good job of appearing not to care, but Mac has a hard time believing any dog would turn down peanut butter. 

Harley, it turns out, is no exception. 

She follows him to the door, and Mac rewards her with a few licks of peanut butter while he clips on the leash, careful not to let her eat so much that there’s not enough to last while brushing her. Despite Harley’s obvious enjoyment of the peanut butter, Mac is no fool. She let him win this round, no doubt about it. 

He leads Harley down the stairs to the small lawn in front of the apartment building, where it wouldn’t matter if he left dog hair everywhere. The brush pulls away thick chunks of her undercoat with each pass, and it doesn’t take long for the lawn to look like something died there. 

The peanut butter, unfortunately, doesn’t last nearly as long as Mac hopes. 

Mac figures out pretty quickly that Harley does not like her tail being brushed; she turns away and tucks her tail and generally makes it impossible for Mac to reach it. He sits back on his heels, formulating a new strategy. “If I don’t brush your tail,” he says, “you’re going to look like a squirrel, and neither of us wants that.” 

Harley’s ears prick at the word squirrel. 

Mac tries again, and this time Harley lets him…sort of. It’s not perfect, but at least she won’t be leaving hair all over the apartment anymore—hair that he needs to vacuum, because Riley asked him to last night and he’d completely forgotten until now. Tucking the brush into his back pocket, Mac scratches Harley’s ears the way he learned she likes, and when she leans into his touch, Mac’s heart swells. 

“Good girl.” He kisses her head, and Harley licks his chin in return. “See? We’re not so bad.” Mac sighs. “I know we’re not who you wanted, but we’re going to take good care of you.” 

Riley made the same promise in the war room. Even if she doesn’t stay with them after the op, Mac will make sure Harley ends up with people who will love her for the rest of her life. 

“I promise,” he murmurs into her fur, kissing her head again.

Mac startles when a feminine voice calls, “You could make a whole other dog from all that hair.” A middle-aged woman stands in the walkway, oversized blue purse on her shoulder and car keys in hand. She smiles at Mac. “I haven’t seen you before. Did you just move in?” 

“Yeah,” Mac says, standing up. “My wife and I moved in this week.” 

“Well, welcome. My name is Carrie Ann, and my husband and I live in apartment 317. Feel free to stop by anytime. I think you’ll like living here, though I must warn you that it gets pretty loud during football season.” 

Mac nods. “Nice to meet you. I’m James.” He expects Carrie Ann to keep walking—presumably to her car—but she doesn’t, and Mac suddenly gets the feeling this conversation is about to be much longer than he wants. 

“And who is this cutie?” she asks, directing her attention to the dog. 

“This is Harley.” 

Carrie Ann sounds like a squeaker toy, greeting Harley in a voice so high-pitched it’s almost inhuman and petting her without bothering to ask for permission. Harley eyes the woman warily but surprisingly sits still. “I love dogs,” she says at a mercifully normal decibel. “Sadly my husband is allergic.” 

“That is unfortunate.” Mac shifts from foot to foot, eager to escape the small talk. He’s never really had the patience for it. 

Carrie Ann, it seems, is completely oblivious to his discomfort. She prattles on, asking asinine questions about what he does for work, if he’s been to the coffee place down the street, and when she can meet his wife. 

Mac doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse when Riley appears in his peripheral vision, as if on cue. “Actually,” he says to Carrie Ann, “you can meet her right now.” Mac flashes Riley a wide, bright smile that she returns half-heartedly, chest still heaving after her run. Sweat glistens on her body, and a few wispy curls that escaped her ponytail are now plastered to her face. “This is my wife, Genevieve.” 

Giving Harley a quick scratch, Riley stands beside him, close enough that Mac can feel the heat radiating off her body. Instinctively, he starts to put a hand on her back, but he quickly pulls away. She’s not wearing a shirt—only a sports bra and those stupidly tight leggings—and the intimacy of putting his hand on her bare skin is too much to handle. “Hi,” she says, completely oblivious to Mac’s internal panic. 

Carrie Ann introduces herself again, and Mac is only half-listening while she and Riley chat. Riley’s so much better at small talk anyway. 

He’s much too focused on how Riley grabs his shoulder to use him for balance while she stretches. She’s so casual about it, like she’s done it a million times before. His skin burns under her touch. 

Mac wants to feel more of her, wants his whole body to feel like that. 

Stop it, he chastises himself. Stop thinking about her like that. 

He can’t. 

Even after Riley lets go, the feeling lingers, and Mac can’t stop thinking about that too. She’s standing slightly in front of him now, almost as if she’s protecting him from their nosey neighbor.

“When are you having kids?” Carrie Ann coos. “An attractive couple such as yourselves would make such beautiful children.” 

Shit. He and Riley never talked about that. 

Before Mac can come up with an answer, Riley pulls his arms around her, a smile blooming on her face. She guides his hands to rest low on her abdomen. “We’re actually trying right now.” 

Mac’s brain short-circuits. 

He blushes, both at the casual intimacy of Riley wrapping herself in him and at the implications of what she just said. Pressing her body fully into Mac’s, Riley looks up at him, smiling like he’s her whole world, and Mac’s heart stops. He’s not breathing. 

His whole body burns, and the feeling is so much more intense than he imagined just seconds ago. 

Alight with mischief, Riley’s dark brown eyes draw him in, and suddenly Mac is picturing Riley with that exact same expression while wearing far less clothing. 

Mac thinks he might die from spontaneous combustion. 

You are so beautiful, he barely stops himself from saying. His blush deepens as he’s snared in the mental image of him and Riley doing said “trying.” 

Their neighbor has the audacity to laugh. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it, Genevieve. Your husband looks like he’s ready for another round.” 

That makes it worse. So much worse. If he doesn’t spontaneously combust, then he’ll definitely die of embarrassment. It’s not how he wants to die, but it’s better than explaining his reaction to Riley. Because she’s going to ask him about it. Mac knows this—knows this like he knows grass is green and gravity is what keeps his feet on the ground.

As soon as Carrie Ann leaves, Riley does exactly that. She extricates herself from his grasp, putting her hands on her hips and furrowing her brow the way she always does when she knows something’s up. “Are you okay?” she asks. 

Mac’s voice is strained as he replies, “Yeah. I’m good.” 

He is not good. He is definitely not good. 

And Riley knows it. 

This op feels like all Mac’s worst nightmares coming to fruition. Simultaneously. 

Riley can’t know. Her knowing would ruin everything—their friendship, their work, their trust. Mac can hardly look her in the eye. How is Riley supposed to trust him when he’s secretly thinking about her like that? He’s her friend; he’s supposed to protect her from guys who want her like that, not become one of them. 

But god does Mac want to be one of them. Not one of them, he corrects himself. The only one. 

He’s screwed.

.

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[nightjarteeth]

Day 4 of the Midsummer Masquerade: Sensory Deprivation

(thanks to CrinklyTinfoil for helping me write the spicy bits <3)

Word count: 3258

Pairing: Valdemar x Finch

Warnings: lemon, tentacles, sensory deprivation, nudity, no actual penetration

(for those who follow my writing, this fic diverges from this chapter of Vervain, Mugwort, & Other Magiferous Plants. this is in no way necessary reading, though.)

“Would you like to see the dungeons?” Quaestor Valdemar asked inquisitively, touching their fingertips together.

“After all, I’d say you’ve earned it after getting past that lock.” Their words implied that Finch was being treated to a reward, but Finch got the distinct impression that they really just wanted to show Finch whatever horrors were lurking down there.

“Oh, no thank you,” Finch replied a little tersely. “I wouldn’t want to waste any more of your valuable time, after all.”

And more importantly, they were more than eager to leave this dark, damp tunnel the Quaestor had lured them down with the promise of a supposedly “intriguing lock.”

As Finch turned to leave, the Quaestor made a pointed coughing noise.

“Are you quite sure about that? You know, I’ve recently acquired some… let’s say, specialized new equipment I could show you. I’ve been looking for someone to test it out on for a while.”

Finch paused. Specialized equipment…?

Wait a second. Was this related to that Midsummer Masquerade thing?

A few days ago, Finch had found an envelope surreptitiously slipped underneath their guest room in the palace. Inside was an invitation written in stylish scarlet ink — and it appeared to be playfully alluding to its intentions, rather than stating them forthright.

Finch had furrowed their brow as they deciphered what exactly the invitation was getting at. It seemed to be a clandestine event… of a decidedly more adult nature.

“Is this some sort of… sex party?” they’d muttered. They approached their door, cracking it open a notch and peering out in an attempt to see who had slipped it under the door. There was no one there.

Whoever had given them the invite had disappeared abruptly, leaving their identity a mystery.

They glanced down at the parchment again.

“Hmmmm. Nope, won’t be attending whatever that is,” they concluded. Finch would be the first to describe themself as a private person — they weren’t a big fan of parties to begin with, much less sexually-inclined parties. To put it lightly, this Midsummer Masquerade thing wasn’t their cup of tea.

For the last two days, they’d been using the invitation as scrap paper, and had nearly forgotten about the upcoming event.

But now…

Perhaps the Quaestor themself had been invited to the Midsummer Masquerade, and was struck in a mood. And perhaps they also preferred to keep such activities private.

Arriving back from their train of thoughts, Finch looked up again. Valdemar’s red eyes were fixed upon them, interestedly waiting for their answer. Finch felt their face flush a little.

Even though just a minute ago they’d been considering how creepy Valdemar was, with their peculiar mannerisms and open adoration of the plague, Finch found themself reevaluating the physician.

They… weren’t unattractive. Actually, once you got past a few minor details — like how they never seemed to blink, or the strange bandages swathed around their head — Finch had to admit there was a certain elegance to their figure.

And who knew? Maybe some experimentation with some questionable equipment in an underground dungeon could release some of the tension of the last few days.

“I have to admit, I’m… curious about your equipment,” Finch confessed, wincing at the accidental euphemism.

“Oh, wonderful,” Valdemar replied. “I’ve been looking to find someone to test it out on for ages.”

They seized a bar of the iron gate, and it juddered open with a loud creak that echoed along the stone tunnel walls.

“In you go,” they instructed, beckoning Finch to walk inside a small elevator that looked like it could just barely accommodate a single person.

“Can two people really fit in there?” Finch asked, unconvinced.

“Don’t fret your little mind over it,” the Quaestor assured them in a not-very-assuring voice. “It will be a tight squeeze, but I’m absolutely sure you won’t mind.”

Finch entered the elevator, noting that the metal platform beneath their feet shuddered a little as they placed their weight on it. How stable was this thing, exactly?

Valdemar moved in swiftly after them, and their chest pressed in closely alongside Finch’s shoulders. Somehow, when they stepped upon the platform, it didn’t shudder at all.

“See? Very comfortable,” Valdemar said, resting a chilly hand on Finch’s head. “Down we go.”

With no indication of them pulling a lever or pressing a button, the elevator rattled on downwards.

Finch shivered against the coldness of Valdemar’s perfectly-still chest. Were they just imagining things, or… did the Quaestor somehow not have a heartbeat? It didn’t feel as if they were even breathing.

But before they had time to fully evaluate this, the elevator had come to a stop, and the iron gate was opening once more. Outside, there was nothing but pitch darkness.

“Well? Come along,” the Quaestor said, looking back behind at Finch, who was not budging.

“Hmmm, that’s right, you need additional lighting. Well, I wouldn’t want you stumbling on anything — an injury might ruin the integrity of the whole experiment. I’ll be right back.”

Valdemar momentarily left Finch with no light except for the dull red glow of whatever magic powered the elevator. Then, they emerged from the dark with a torch in their hand.

“That’s better, yes? Now follow me,” they instructed.

Now that the torch illuminated the area in soft orange brightness, Finch was able to take a decent look at their surroundings. The dungeon was spacious, looking like a place that formerly held a great deal of activity. Tables and chairs were strewn about, with an empty operating theater set at the dead center of it all.

As Valdemar led them through the room, Finch took note of how many of the tables were equipped with sturdy-looking leather straps. One of them still had polished scalpels and a bonesaw arranged neatly across its surface.

Finch gulped. They had a feeling that whatever “equipment” Quaestor Valdemar had mentioned might be of the BDSM variety… but how much could Finch really handle?

“I’ve been searching for a volunteer for this simply forever,” Valdemar wistfully sighed in the meanwhile. “It would’ve been much easier back in the days of the Red Plague — there was no shortage of potential participants in the dungeons back then… but nowadays finding someone sturdy and willing can be a real challenge.”

That’s a very strange way of saying that you’ve been having trouble finding sex partners lately, Finch thought, but kept quiet.

“When I saw the schematic a fellow scientist invented, I simply couldn’t resist recreating it myself. This will be so much fun.”

The way Valdemar said the word “fun” made Finch’s stomach turn in knots. Either this was going to be a weirdly enjoyable time, or it was going to be the most frightening moment of Finch’s life.

In any case, this was bound to be an intense experience.

Eventually, Valdemar stopped at a stone archway with a dark room beyond its threshold.

“It’s right in here,” they said, shining the torchlight so that it illuminated the room.

Finch peered in. The room was empty, with no visible contraption they could see… and then they glanced down at the floor.

Set into the stone tiles was a circular black pool of water. The orange light of the torch flickered over its mirror-like surface, revealing nothing of its depth.

“Wait, what is that?” Finch asked, a nervous twitch entering their normally stoic expression. This… was not what they had been expecting.

“It’s a sensory deprivation pool,” Valdemar replied, their voice laced with excitement. “And you’re going in it.”

Finch felt at that moment that they would’ve been more comforted if there’d been the table with the scalpels and bonesaw inside the room. At least that would’ve been more aligned with the BDSM situation they’d been previously anticipating.

For the first time, they began to question if this whole invitation really was a sex thing.

“I’m going in there?” they asked, taken aback.

“Oh, yes,” Valdemar answered matter-of-factly.

“Is… there anything in that water that I should know about?” Finch asked next, peering into the opaque surface of the pool. It was all too easy to imagine some deep sea leviathan idling under the surface, waiting for someone to dip their toes in.

“Goodness, no. The water’s far too salty for any extant species to survive living in it. And don’t worry about sinking, either… the primary purpose of all that salt is that it’ll allow you to simply float in the water.”

“Any further questions?” the Quaestor asked, suddenly far too close to Finch’s ear. Finch paused for a moment, trying to think of any excuse to get out of this situation they’d foolishly signed up for.

But before they could even formulate a response, Valdemar had already taken their silence as an answer.

“Good, good. Then you may proceed to disrobe.”

Finch hesitated, wondering if they should wait for the Quaestor to leave the room before stripping their clothes off. Instead, they tilted their head at Finch, red eyes looking directly at them.

“If you’re nervous about disrobing in front of me, you needn’t be. I can assure you that whatever’s under that cloak of yours will not surprise me. Unless, you’d rather I leave you in total darkness to remove your clothing?”

“No, that definitely won’t be necessary,” Finch quickly replied, not fancying the idea of tripping over their clothes in the dark.

They weren’t particularly embarrassed about being nude, but they had to admit that the Quaestor’s unyielding gaze was a little unnerving.

Finch turned away to undress, the dungeon air chilly against their skin. When they were fully naked, they looked back. The whole time they were undressing, Valdemar’s eyes hadn’t moved, their face expressionless and giving nothing away.

Finch couldn’t decide if this was vaguely arousing or downright creepy.

They cautiously clambered down the stone steps leading down into the pool. To their surprise, the water was pleasantly warm to the touch.

“All the way in,” Valdemar instructed. “And then situate yourself so that you’re floating on your back.”

Finch did as they were told, leaning back into the pool and letting their limbs go limp. Just as Valdemar had said, they floated with no difficulty, the water seeming strangely supportive of their weight.

“...now what?” they asked after a moment. Gazing up from their position in the middle of the pool, they glimpsed a razor-sharp grin.

“And now I leave you in the dark,” Valdemar said, and turned away.

“Wait! What exactly is supposed to happen to me in here?” Finch asked, suddenly concerned again.

“That’s the whole experiment,” Valdemar stated. “Examining how the mind reacts when deprived of stimulus… Well, there’s all sorts of delightful possibilities. The schematic suggested that it might induce hallucinations — oh, I do so hope it does induce hallucinations.”

Without another word, Valdemar moved toward the stone archway, and the orange torchlight was extinguished. Finch found themself absolutely alone.

If I died in here, it’s likely that no one would ever find me, they thought. Experimentally, they moved a hand in front of their face. Nothing — their eyes didn’t detect even a hint of movement.

After several more minutes, however, they began to feel their mind calm. The chamber was perfectly silent and still — unlike the rest of the bustling Palace, which Finch was still adjusting to staying in. In the complete dark, it was unexpectedly easy to forget that they were deep underneath the building, trapped in a creepy dungeon.

With the pleasantly warm water beneath their body, Finch noticed the tension in their muscles start to gradually fizzle away. Maybe coming down here wasn’t actually an awful idea, even if this hadn’t been the experience they’d expected.

Just as their body began to truly relax, Finch felt a current of water move underneath them. They braced themself. It’s probably just from whatever mechanism’s warming the pool, they rationalized, trying to keep calm.

Then, something smooth and whip-like brushed against their ankle.

Finch jolted on instinct. They thrashed in the pool, trying to regain their balance, but was thrown off by the sheer buoyancy of the water. Finally, they were able to grasp at the pool’s edge, sputtering and panting raggedly.

There couldn’t be anything living in here, could there? The water was, in fact, too salty — Finch could taste the bitterness of it on their lips.

An idea sprang to mind. Maybe this was one of those hallucinations Valdemar was talking about — one of the results they were hoping for. After a few minutes of no sign of further movement in the water, Finch released their hold on the slippery stone edge.

Slowly, they allowed themselves to drift back out into the center, once more closing their eyes and concentrating on staying calm — a more difficult task now, with their heart pounding in their chest as they floated along the surface.

It had to be just their imagination... but underneath, they felt the water shift again, as though something was rising from the depths.

Finch tensed slightly, taking in a deep breath. Halfway through it, the breath caught in their throat as they felt that soft brush against their ankle once more. They focused more intently this time, trying to ignore it.

Whatever hallucination this was shouldn’t concern them. Hell, this experience might be an opportunity to learn something about themself. What would their mind come up with when left alone in the dark?

There was only one way to find out.

The whip-like appendage slowly began winding around their ankle. Finch shivered, their skin feeling as if it were on fire.

Finch felt their limb pulled, the motion deliberate and almost experimental. Whatever was in the pool with them was behaving in a very intentional manner, ruling the possibility of “sea monster” out of Finch’s mind.

On impulse, Finch opened their eyes, but there was nothing to see but the dark. Briefly, they considered reaching their hand out to try to touch whatever was currently wrapping up their exposed thigh and causing their heart to beat wildly.

For a moment, they stretched out their fingertips, only to release them back into the water. Just hallucinations — that’s what the Quaestor had stated. No point in reaching for something that wasn’t there.

A small gasp escaped Finch as in an abrupt motion, the tendril that gripped their leg began to move upwards, sliding between their legs and over their torso.

The water shifted again, and Finch bit down hard on their lip as they felt another tendril join the prior one, sliding gently between their legs as it did so — and sending an alarming spark of pleasure crackling up their spine.

Finch had started to breathe more heavily, feeling the urge to press their legs together onto the unidentifiable tendril as their toes curled. The prior tentacle that had snaked up between their legs prevented this, though, and so they were left a bit of a panting mess as they drifted in the dark.

Then, several more tendrils erupted from beneath, rippling at the surface of the water. They coiled around each of Finch’s wrists and ankles, seizing them firmly.

The message was clear: stop moving.

More tentacles continued writhing up Finch’s body, wrapping them in a peculiarly soft grip. Their chest, arms and legs were soon wrapped and unwrapped as the appendages below seemed to explore them. Soft touches trailed across their body — trails of fire that made Finch’s face redden more and more with every second.

Just. A. Hallucination! Finch frantically reminded themself, trying and failing not to react.

Finch stifled a moan, their hands balling into fists as the tentacle situated across their nether region pressed down none too lightly, rocking back and forth in an investigative manner.

Their bare skin prickled with sensation, and they once more frantically fought to stifle a cry as a warm glow enveloped them. These were some very vivid hallucinations, Finch frantically tried to justify to themself.

After all, if they weren’t hallucinations, what else could they be? Finch literally couldn’t think of any other possibility… but then again, it was difficult to think at all at the moment.

Finch sensed their face going red as they felt a tentacle lightly wrap about their neck. A soft tip stroked down their jawline, its motions careful and precise, like a doctor making an incision.

Another stroked across their cheek, pushing damp hair off to the side as the slit between their legs began to burn with an absolutely vicious heat. Finch felt trapped and slightly frightened, which apparently was really doing it for them judging by the sensations coursing up and down their body.

The appendages continued to glide over their skin, seemingly keen to explore every inch of Finch that was available. Sparks exploded inside of them as the tips of the soft feelers paused on their nipples, beginning to twist and play with them and leaving Finch feeling ever-so-slightly dazed.

They weren’t sure how long they floated in the dark before the shivering and quaking of their body began to mean they couldn’t possibly hold still a second longer. They twitched and shook in the unyielding embrace of the tentacles that had extended from the depths, their breath coming in shallow gasps.

It was as this happened, their world disappearing into a vision of noiseless pleasure, that a surge of heat swept through them. They gasped, and if sinking in the water had been possible, they were sure they would’ve surrendered to the depths below them.

One by one, Finch felt the tentacles fading away. They slipped from between their legs, and removed themselves from their chest and arms. Finch heard the soft splash of water as what they imagined to be thick writhing shapes disappeared back underneath.

The last one to go was the one that lingered about their neck. With one last caress of their chin, it slowly released, sliding gently back into the depths and leaving them once more floating unhindered in the water.

After a few minutes in the perfectly-still darkness, Finch detected the orange light of the torch in the corner of their eye. As the room swam back into view, they felt themselves become reoriented once more.

Finch looked upwards. Valdemar loomed above them at the edge of the pool, head tilting with curiosity.

“You’re back,” Finch noted, hurriedly getting out of the water and desperately hoping Valdemar didn’t notice how flustered they looked.

“Hmmm? I never left the room,” Valdemar informed them. “After all, I had to examine you during the course of the experiment.”

Finch immediately flushed. What… had they seen?

“And besides,” Valdemar added, cracking a sharp grin. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun in that sensory deprivation pool alone.”

Finch decided that for their own peace of mind, they were not going to ask any further questions on this matter — or think too hard about the worrying implications of what Valdemar had just said.

Instead, they asked another question.

“Quaestor… by any chance, have you ever heard of an event called the ‘Midsummer Masquerade?’”

“Midsummer Masquerade…?” For a moment, Valdemar looked genuinely confused — an unexpected sight.

“Ah. I do recall finding an invitation delivered to my estate — but as a rule of thumb, I don’t attend such events unless my presence is absolutely required. I never opened the envelope,” Valdemar replied with a shrug of their shoulders.

Of… course, Finch thought.

Naked in the cold depths of the dungeon, Finch started putting their clothes back on.

[awanderingdeal]

Summer camp AU - Chapter 5 - Remus

Finally an update to this! I found this chapter super hard to write for some reason. I hope you enjoy it!

CW: Food, implications of past toxic family relationships

Fic Rating: T

Please message me if you feel that any content warnings need to be added or the rating is not appropriate.

The characters in this fic belong to @lumosinlove and you should definitely go and check out her fics!

For previous and future chapters please see my masterlist

Remus moved tentatively as he climbed over Sirius, doing his best not to wake the other man. He wasn’t quite sure when Sirius had arrived, a vague memory of a muttered apology sometime during the early hours of morning surfacing, but he’d been asleep and barely registered it. He huffed a laugh at how Sirius had burrowed himself under the sheets, his inky black hair the only thing visible. The bed really wasn’t big enough for the two of them, and as much as Remus loved Sirius, his boyfriend leaked heat like a furnace. Still, soon the campers would be here and the two of them would have to set an example by not sneaking into one another’s accommodation so Remus savoured the company whilst he had it.

The air had already started to hold a damp heat when Remus stepped out, despite the amber hues of sunrise barely having lifted. A sweet breeze gave some welcome relief as he picked up a steady job, his muscles slowly waking to the chirping chorus of birds he couldn’t identify even with their daily meetings. Remus almost missed the flash of red hair hidden behind a tall pine tree, except for the hushed laugh that drags his attention away from a feisty squirrel he’d paused to watch. He rolls his eyes at the couple, an act he acknowledges is highly hypocritical considering the origins of his own relationship. The two kissed again, drawing the owner of the rough laughter into view and Remus startled. He peered closer, confirming his first observation - that was Kasey Winter, but the person he was with was most definitely not Natalie Darcy, Kasey’s girlfriend. Ordinarily, Remus would pretend he hadn’t witnessed anything, writing the situation off as none of his business, only both Kasey and Natalie were good friends of his. He pushed the dilemma to the back of his mind for now and pressed on with his run.

The work day had seemed unusually long, Remus learning the cruel lesson that even the most adored job became tiresome when you wanted to be somewhere else. Placing the final package of dressings in their drawer, Remus ticked the item off his checklist with a flourish. He looked around the nurses station, giving a satisfied nod and a self congratulatory smile; the place was really starting to come together. Now that he was finished for the day, Remus rolled his shoulders, letting himself relax.

Without the distraction of inventories and paperwork, Remus’ mind wandered to thoughts of Sirius. A phone call from a panicked parent needing reassurance the camp could, in fact, accommodate her child’s allergies had lasted long enough to result in him taking a late lunch, so Remus hadn't had a chance to talk to his boyfriend all day. He knew he could find Sirius in the drama studio, his phone having buzzed earlier with a message informing him of the fact Sirius would be there for the entire afternoon, only he didn’t want to alienate him from the other counsellors by spending all their time together. Traipsing back to the cabin to change out of his uniform, Remus shook off the doubt. There was a time for balance, but it wasn’t the day after your boyfriend reunited with their sibling after years apart.

Both Sirius and Heather jumped at Remus’s knock on the heavy wooden doorframe, the pair deep in conversation. “Oh, I believe that is my cue to leave,” Heather smiled, the expression settling something in Remus he hadn’t even realised needed settling.

“Thanks for all your help today, Heather.” Sirius accepted the broom she handed to him. “Both with this,” he continued, gesturing to the room around him, “and for the advice. You should consider a career as a therapist. Trust me, I should know.”

“Here I was antagonising over my future and Mr Sirius Black solved it in one afternoon,” Heather laughed, sticking her tongue out playfully. “It was no problem, way better than sorting out the games’ equipment shed, anyway. I can’t wait to see what your tiny theatre kids do in here.”

“They’re not tiny, they’re middle schoolers.”

“Exactly, middle schoolers. Tiny,” Remus agreed, stepping into the studio. It smelt of polish and other than a pile in the centre of the floor, any evidence of the years worth of dust that had been allowed to gather was gone.

“The key is not to let them know you think that,” Heather winked.

“This isn’t my first year, you know,” Sirius grumbled, his accent thickening the way it always did when he was even mildly inconvenienced, “Get out of here,” he shooed Heather off. “And talk to June! I definitely saw heart eyes this morning.”

“Well then, you need your eyes testing,” Heather retorted, leaving with a raised eyebrow and a peppy wave.

"Bonjour, mon loup,” Sirius sang, gathering Remus in his arms. At 5”11, Remus wasn’t even short, but Sirius could still easily prop his chin on the top of his head, albeit only briefly. A short breath of air left Sirius’ mouth, almost but not quite a laugh, and Remus found his chin being lifted for a kiss. "Come on, let's go and sit by the lake. I'll tell you everything."

Remus schooled his expression into the most innocent he could manage. "I was just going to ask how your day was."

"Sure." Sirius laughed properly now, the both of them stumbling slightly as he tried to nudge Remus' shoulder. "You're practically vibrating. Thought I was supposed to be the intense one?

“Sometimes it’s my turn,” Remus smirked, pointing out a large, flat rock in the distance that seemed like an ideal sitting place. Sirius nodded, letting Remus guide their slight change in trajectory to head towards it. “You know, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I will always be interested in your life, but if you want this to stay between you and Regulus then I completely understand.”

Sirius flicked his gaze over to Remus briefly, the smile soft on his face. It reminded Remus of when they had still been dancing around one another. Long evening walks where their hands would brush, just barely. Looking back, he didn’t know how they had lasted so long before that almost inevitable kiss. One thunderstorm and two leaking roofs, that was all it had taken in the end. “I know,” Sirius shrugged. Those were the last words he said until they reached the low slab, a once rugged thing that had been smoothed out by a lifetime of exposure. Remus thought there must be something poetic in it, but he was too tired to figure it out.

The quiet lasted long enough for Remus to figure Sirius had changed his mind, playing their hands together as they looked out onto the water.

“They live in California now, they’re here to teach archery and they are non - binary,” Sirius breathed out the sentence, the words blending together and his accent thick, but Remus was practised enough to decipher them.

“California? That’s a long way from Montreal -” Remus toyed with the sleeve of Sirius’ t-shirt. “ - How’d they end up there?”

Sirius' face crumpled a little, quickly gathering himself. “They were staying with a friend of our family’s there, Severus. He always seemed nice, nicer than the rest of their crowd anyway, but it turns out he’s no different to the rest of them. Regulus is trying to get out of there.” A sheepish smile spread over Sirius’ face. “I might have invited him to live with us. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I should have asked first. They were just so worried and -”

“Hey,” Remus squeezed Sirius's hand. “I’m not going to pretend that a consultation wouldn’t have been nice, but it’s your house -”

“It’s our house,” Sirius frowned.

"The house was bought with your money and I can completely understand and appreciate why you offer a roof over your sibling's head without question."

Sirius played with the necklace, a silver lion, hanging around his throat. Remus lifted his hand to touch its twin, draped around his own neck. "Just like that? Even though I've spent every mention of them detailing how much they had hurt me?"

Turning to face Sirius more surely, Remus gave a comforting smile. "Do you trust them?"

There was a brief pause, but the "yes" that followed was sure and confident.

"That's good enough for me," Remus said. "Shall we go and join everybody for dinner? There's apple pie tonight."

Dinner ended up being the usual ruckus that Remus had become re-accustomed to over the past few days. He loved the way the dining room thrummed with the same energy that radiated throughout meals with his own family. Thomas and James' dares grew more and more ridiculous until Sergei barked at them that he wouldn’t allow them any more BBQ if they did not calm down.

“ -Yeah, so ma Maman had to come and collect me. I think I lasted 5 hours,” Jackson finished his grandiose retelling of his first experience at camp.”

“Nado!” Evgeni set his glass down with a heavy thud. Remus had learned the tall Russian man had the gentlest of spirits, but grace was not an attribute he possessed in large amounts. “Why you go to horse camp if scared of horses?”

“I was 8,” Jackson argued. “I had never seen a horse in real life. It just looked fun.”

Once the rippling laughter dissipated, the conversation evolved into useful hints of tips from those of them that weren’t new on how to handle similar situations with their own campers.

“Hey, Katie,” Remus leaned over Sirius to address the youngest of the Dumais’. She had only arrived yesterday along with her siblings and Sergei’s wife and children, but she’d made herself right at home, squeezing herself between Sirius and Logan, who she had declared her favourite, instead of joining the rest of her family at their table. “Can I steal Sirius please? I need to show him something.”

“It’s time for Katie to go with Anya back to our cabins,” Celeste interrupted. “Viens, ma chérie. Tu peux revenir demain matin.” Katie left with a pout to a round of goodbyes.

“What did you want to show me, mon loup?” Sirius cocked his head curiously.

“Nothing,” Remus admitted sheepishly. “I just wanted to get a good spot under the pavilion before everybody else finishes and comes outside.” Sirius rolled his eyes, letting Remus tug him into a standing position. During camp, the small structure would serve as a meeting point and could fit a dozen or so people in when they were standing, but it was pretty full with Sirius’ 6 foot 3 form sprawled across it, there wasn’t much space for anybody else, and this was Remus’ favourite spot. He could lie under the shelter, a little less exposed to the biting insects that seemed to love him so much and still see everybody on the green around them.

Soon, the space would be filled with eager children, and Remus would be constantly poised to treat the next ailment, but at the moment, he was content to watch this year's counsellors get to know one another better. He was an old hand at this now, however, he could remember the bristling excitement as his first training week had drawn to a close, the knowledge that he was soon to be responsible for people who didn't seem all that much younger than he was, both terrifying and exhilarating.

The sky had been threatening rain for hours now, and it finally fulfilled its promise.

“My hair!” Finn’s screech broke through the chorus of rain. The blonde boy, something in the back of Remus’ brain supplied him with the name Leo, immediately tucked Finn against his side, throwing his jacket over his head. Remus wasn’t sure whether their shaking was as a result of the damp seeping through their clothes or the pair’s laughter.

Remus had always enjoyed people watching, noticing the subtle intricacies of human behaviour when they didn’t realise you were looking, so he caught Leo’s small glance up at Logan just before he put some space between himself and Finn.

Finn wasn’t having any of it though, dragging Leo back to him, attempting to get the small jacket over the top of the both of them.

"Do you see that?" Remus lifted his shoulder, jostling Sirius slightly.

Sirius grunted, the annoying chime of the game he was playing sounding loudly as he progressed to another level. Remus had given up on complaining, and the repetitive nature of swiping candies across the screen seemed to relax Sirius more than it bothered Remus. "See what?"

Leo was standing now, his t-shirt soaked through and his hair plastered against his face in damp strands. Remus couldn't quite work out what he spluttered before walking off with long, quick strides, one last quick look at Logan as he went.

"There's something going on there,' Remus hummed.

"Stop meddling," Sirius laughed.

"I'm not meddling!"

Sirius turned a raised eyebrow on Remus and tucked his phone into the pocket of his jacket before pulling them both down so they lay on their backs. "Listen. I love the sound of the rain."

Remus knew he was being distracted, but the thudding rhythm of heavy droplets against the wooden slats of the rood was incredibly relaxing. Or at least it was until the sheeting downpour didn't stop and they had to dart through it, laughter heaving in their chests to meet the others in the large hall. Celeste sighed, bundling towels into their hands to dry off.

"Nice of you to join us, gentlemen," Dumo said, a guitar propped in his lap. "Take a seat. We were just about to teach our newcomers a few campfire songs. Sans the fire, of course. As two of our most experienced, maybe you could lead?”

“Je te hais,” Sirius grumbled.

Dumo ignored the declaration, and once they were seated he smiled. “Perhaps we will start with Everywhere we go?”

Despite an early reluctance from Sirius the sounds of the song were soon echoing off the walls, the group of counsellors enthusiastically answering Sirius’ calls.

Everywhere we go

Everywhere we go

People always ask us

People always ask us

Who we are

Who we are

And where we come from

And where we come from

So we tell them

So we tell them

We’re the Lions

We’re the Lions

The mighty mighty Lions

The mighty mighty Lions

And if they can’t hear us

And if they can’t hear us

We shout a little louder

We shout a little louder!

Dumo was lenient, taking over leading them through a few more songs himself until he faked a large yawn. “Well, it’s bed time for me. I’ll leave the guitar for anybody who wants to play. And remember, no matter how much we try to teach our campers such fun songs, they’d rather learn whatever routine is popular on Tip Top or whatever that thing is called, so be prepared!”

Logan commandeered the guitar quickly, holding it strong against his thigh and strumming it with a relaxed ease Remus wasn't sure he'd seen in the man before. He played through a few songs, others slowly filtering out as time went by until only a handful of people remained.

“Do my song, please?” Finn asked, eyes wide and pleading.

Logan shook his head, “Not here.”

Finn’s lower lip dropped into a pout and Remus saw the exact moment Logan succumbed to the expression. Remus didn’t blame him at all, Finn’s face bore an eerie resemblance to Bambi and only a monster could deny it.

“Fine.”

The slow chords started and the room quieted as Logan began to sing. It was more romantic than Remus had expected from the younger man.

And you can tell everybody

This is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it's done

I hope you don't mind

I hope you don't mind

That I put down in the words

How wonderful life is while you're in the world.

Logan and Finn were so invested in one another that Remus wasn’t sure they noticed Leo slipping quietly from the room.

[calliecat93]

More Empath meta cause GDI I love this episode and it is SOOO much fun to analyze~!

McCoy sacrificing himself is of course the most famous moment, and for good reason. It is, imo, the scene that embodies everything that Leonard McCoy is and always will be. But I don’t see a lot of people talk about after, when it’s just Kirk, Spock, and Gem left. Can you imagine what it had to be like for Kirk and Spock? The cold, awful realization when they see Bones’ medical equipment laying there, but no sign of the man himself?

From how it sounded to me, Spock woke up before Jim did. Which means that when Kirk came to and saw Bones gone, Spock had to confirm that yes, McCoy went with the Vians. It had to be God awful for Kirk when that hit him. Hell you can hear it in his voice when he asks Spock “Why did you let him do it?”. While he’s looking downward He sounds like he just came back down from the realization setting in. Kirk had already had his turn being tortured. He knows EXACTLY what’s in store for Bones and that it’s going to be worst. His best friend, confidant, and emotional stability is going to die and unless Spock gets the Vian device working, he can’t do anything about it. He always finds a way out of everything. He doesn’t believe in the no-win scenario. But he got forced into one by the Vians. He was going to have to send one of his best friends, one of his crewmen, to their death. It’s like in The Immunity Syndrome, except far more cruel.

Worst, Bones took that option away from him. He got spared from the choice, but it didn’t change the fact that Bones is gone and Jim wasn’t allowed to do so much as argue back. So not only did he fail to protect his best friend, he failed to protect one of his crewmen that he’s responsible for. For a Starfleet Captain, this kind of situation would be utterly soul crushing. Fortunately Kirk doesn’t give up as he tries to figure out what the Vians exact intentions are, Gem’s place in it, and he bounces back instantly once Spock DOES get the device operating and confirms that they can teleport to McCoy. It presents the solution that Kirk desperately needed and has him giving the most Kirk-like response that he could ever give. Still in that moment, he must have felt far worst than any of the physical paint hat the Vians out him through. He couldn’t protect Bones (or Spock for that matter). He couldn’t think of a third option. He was utterly powerless.

Then there’s Spock... oh God Spock.

Spock obviously already knew what was going to happen the second he felt that sting in his back. He looks almost betrayed, calling it unethical. Not even illogical, unethical. When he’s up, he’s already back to work on the device though he DOES confirm that he got taken out the same way Kirk did: the good doctor’s hypo. I sensed what almost felt like exasperation. I can only imagine what was going through his mind. He may keep his emotions controlled, but whether he likes it or not he still feels them. The main thing that comes to mind is at a loss on how he allowed McCoy to sneak up on him to begin with. How he hadn’t even considered that a possibility when he’s fully aware of the doctor’s highly illogical nature. Especially when he himself had accused McCoy of having a Martyr Complex again in The Immunity Syndrome. The fact that he witnessed McCoy already do it to Jim should have added to the likelihood. He should have known better, but instead here they are.

I doubt it’s because Spock just forgot any of that. He was both trying to get the device as functional as he could before handing himself over and he was resigning himself to death. Okay, insanity but that’s still him losing himself. You could tell with the way he looked at Jim, this was going to be the final time he ever saw him. You could tell what he was feeling when Gem touched him and just smiled brightly. How much he cares about his captain, and McCoy as well. Simply put, he was more focused on making sure that those two got out alive that the thought that McCoy would take his place simply didn’t occur to him. Did he expect protest? Of course, it briefly happened in the initial talk. But Spock probably assumed that as usual McCoy would gripe and argue with him over it, but that would be the extent of it. Even if McCoy stayed stubborn over it and tried to interfere, Spock would be able to handle it just like, again, in The Immunity Syndrome. He was wrong. His logic was clouded, and thus he was unprepared to stop him.

Then there’s everything when they do reach McCoy. I don’t need to go into depth with this one. Everything that everyone’s feelign is clear as crystal.

Jim’s distressed for obvious reasons, even at first refusing to accept that McCoy’s dying until McCoy himself confirms it. Spock is barely holding back his clear distress snd concern, which... well, we all know the scene:

“You’ve got a.... good bedside manner, Spock.”

And Spock’s reaction.

That expression says it all.

I already posted about how much McCoy cares about these two. So much so that he sacrificed himself with no regard to himself. Not even for a second. He’d made up his mind and there was no room for anything else after. But I also pointed out how due to his disregard for himself, he didn’t take into account how said two people would react. He’d have still done it even fi he had, but still. He’s The Heart to Kirk’s Soul and Spock’s Mind. If so much as one part is lost, the other two may still be able to exist, but they won’t ever be whole again. He’s the one constantly helping Jim through any mental/emotional hangups that are troubling him. He’s the one constantly challenging Spock on his reliance on logic and ignoring his emotions/human half. He’s not always in the right when he does so, but it’s still a way to point out to Spock that that side of him exists and can’t be ignored. McCoy cares so much, sometimes maybe too much... and maybe at times it causes him to forgot how much that they care for him. And had it been them laying there dying even if beyond hope, he’d have fought to save them to the bitter end.

And nothing was going to stop neither Jim nor Spock from doing the same for him.

Or long story short: I just love the Triumvirate a lot and how much they love each other XD

(Image Credit: TrekCore)

[calltomuster]

Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! PROMPTS!! I just finished "the only thing that's real" and it is SO LOVELY and saaaaaaaaad and heartbreaking and perfect and nuanced and just everything I love in your fic. Also, I love this prompt list, and live for Obi-Whump. Can I request Obi-Wan with caretaker Anakin for "I know it hurts. I'm sorry"? YOU'RE THE BEST! <3

Ahhh you're always too kind to me, @tessiete! Thank you so much for those lovely words!! 🥺

Yes, of course you can request that! Thanks for the prompt!!

From these caretaker dialogue prompts: 15. "I know it hurts, I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan held out for a few minutes of Anakin picking shrapnel out of his shoulder before he let out a cry. It was frankly longer than Anakin probably would have lasted, so he was impressed. But while it was never fun to see Obi-Wan in pain, he really needed to keep going, so he just winced in sympathy and continued.

"I know it hurts, I'm sorry," Anakin murmured, withdrawing a particularly nasty spiral of metal.

"It's f-fine," Obi-Wan said through gritted teeth. "Just make sure you g-get it all out."

Anakin and Obi-Wan had been ambushed by local insurgents on some planet Anakin couldn't even remember the name of anymore where slugthrowers were the weapons of choice instead of blasters. Ironically, this technical ineptitude made them much more formidable against Jedi, whose lightsabers were perfectly equipped for handling blaster bolts but when confronted with slugthrowers, well...

They'd shot at Obi-Wan, a deluge of slugs that had turned into explosive shrapnel on the blade of his lightsaber, and his shoulder became embedded with tiny pieces of metal. Anakin had managed to get him to safety, but now they were holed up in an abandoned building in the middle of enemy territory trying to dig things out of Obi-Wan's shoulder using nothing but the Force and some tweezers Anakin had miraculously found. He'd boiled water in an attempt to sterilize them, but he was sure Vokara Che was grinding her teeth at just the thought of what he was doing. But Obi-Wan said that he could feel pieces getting close to his heart and lungs, so expediency trumped cleanliness. Anakin made the executive decision to just dig in -- literally. Look, he never said he was a medic or healer, okay?

"Ahh!" Obi-Wan cried as a piece caught on the edge of his skin as Anakin was pulling it out.

"Shit, shit, sorry!" Anakin grimaced, gingerly removing it.

Obi-Wan tried to get his breathing under control, chest heaving. A stray tear leaked out of the corner of his eye.

"Shit," Anakin said again. "Sorry."

"Not your fault," Obi-Wan replied shakily. He began breathing through his nose, trying to slow it down enough so that his chest would stop moving. Anakin couldn't poke around until he was still.

"Do you need to take a break?"

"No," Obi-Wan said immediately. "We have to do this sooner rather than later. This isn't exactly --" He breathed in again then continued. "A great place to stop."

Right. In the distance, they could still hear the insurgents' camp.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the ground. His right hand clutched the nearest object -- a support pole attached to the floor and ceiling. "Alright. I'm ready again."

Anakin nodded, though Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to see it. "Okay. I'm going in."

He reached out with the Force to try and identify what pieces were remaining and then got to work. It wasn't easy. Some pieces were just millimeters wide, and others had dug into the flesh in barbed ways that made them extremely painful to remove. But Obi-Wan was a trooper, so Anakin couldn't exactly complain.

A quick glance at the pole Obi-Wan was grabbing revealed that his knuckles were bone white.

"You good?" Anakin asked after he removed a particularly gnarly bit.

"Never b-been better," Obi-Wan replied. If his voice was a little threadier than normal, Anakin would never tell. He went on.

Finally, they got to the last few pieces, which promised to be bad. Anakin had left them for the end for no particular reason other than that he really didn't want to have to deal with them. Unfortunately, he was the only one who could.

"Just a few left," he told Obi-Wan.

"Good," Obi-Wan got out through pursed lips.

He could do this. He could do this. He could--

"Mmn!" Obi-Wan's back arched.

"Got it!" Anakin announced, dropping the bit of metal from between the tweezers onto the ground. "Two more."

He dove back in. This one was particularly bad. Anakin had to stick the tweezers farther down than he'd ever had to before. But Obi-Wan didn't make a sound, and Anakin only realized once he'd removed that piece of shrapnel that it was because he'd been holding his breath the entire time. But they made it though, and now there was only one bit remaining.

Obi-Wan reached up to his face to wipe sweat away and ended up leaving his arm draped over his face.

"Obi-Wan?"

"Hmm?" Obi-Wan grumbled.

"You good?"

"Yes, I'm having a blast here."

Anakin winced. "Sorry. Almost over, just one more."

But Anakin could tell right away that this one was elusive. He wouldn't be able to reach it with the tweezers; he'd have to use the Force. He gnawed on his lower lip, thinking. He had a lot of raw power in the Force, more than any other Jedi, but for all the training Obi-Wan had tried to force into his brain, he'd never had much control, nothing like what would be required for moving a tiny piece of metal out of Obi-Wan's body.

Obi-Wan shifted his arm slightly and opened one eye to peer at him. "Is everything alright?"

"No," Anakin admitted. "I don't think I can get this one myself. It's just too small and too far down for me to use the Force or the tweezers."

"Then I'll do it," Obi-Wan said, looking at the ceiling.

"What?" Anakin squawked. "That's ridiculous!"

"It's our only option," Obi-Wan replied. "We can't leave it in there and we can't stay much longer."

Kriff it, he was right. "Okay," he acquiesced, sitting back.

"Wait, Anakin, can I...?" Obi-Wan asked, reaching out his hand. Anakin took it immediately, and Obi-Wan gripped it tight. "Alright."

He closed his eyes. Anakin could sense him concentrating in the Force through the spikes of pain that came as he carefully maneuvered the piece through his body. His eyebrows furrowed together and more tears slid through the creases near his eyes. Anakin's hand felt like the bones were being crushed together, but he didn't breathe a word.

Finally, the piece floated out, and both Obi-Wan and Anakin relaxed.

"Great job, Master," Anakin praised, relieved and exalted.

Obi-Wan breathed out shakily, but he too felt much more at ease. "There. Now that that business is over with, we can get out of here."

"We can wait a minute or two," Anakin said. "You take a breather and then we'll leave."

Obi-Wan eyed him but was too tired to argue. He was about to lie his head back down on the floor when Anakin scooted closer and stuck out his leg to act as a pillow.

"Thank you, Padawan," Obi-Wan murmured, eyes already closed. Anakin hummed. Just a few months ago, he might have immediately retorted back that he wasn't Obi-Wan's Padawan. But right now, he was just happy his Master was alright.

Thanks for reading! Requests will be open for a few more hours! Feel free to use a prompt from the list linked above (except numbers 3, 4, 5, 15, 16, 17, or 20, which have already been requested/filled). Or send in something of your own! Requests are currently closed!