#bite him and tear him apart violently for information

[mcybree]

Today i am in a wee bit of pain. If i watched skizzs 3l pov today and made weird bad takes about him on tumblr dot com would yall forgive me

[foliosriot]

LOVE’S THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND ♱ PART TWO

noah sebastian x reader

WARNINGS!!

none, just very short :(

TAGS!!

@malice-ov-mercy @measuredingold @crimson-calligraphyx @chels3a-smile @misspygmypie @veronicaphoenix @loverofagoodbeard @catj422

masterlist. tdopom masterlist.

“Hello?”

“I’m fucking panicking.”

The line is silent for a few beats, and it has you worriedly thinking if Jolly just hung up on you. But then there’s a deep sigh that has you feeling momentary relief.

“Why, exactly, are you fucking panicking?” Jolly asks carefully.

“I texted Noah,” you tell him, nervously nibbling at the tip of your thumbnail.

“That’s good! I’m proud of you for finally communicating with him,” Jolly praises you.

“No, it’s not good, Jolly!” you fire back. Stress is eating away at you, anxiety bubbles violently in your stomach. “I have never felt such panic since Fall Out Boy’s hiatus after Folie à Deux!”

“Wow, okay. That’s … That��s a strangely niche reference I haven’t heard you talk about for a long time.” Jolly looses another sigh. “Okay, I’ll bite. What happened?”

“He told me he misses me.”

The line goes silent again. Your leg is bouncing as you sit atop one of the stools under your kitchen counter. Your phone is face-up on the counter on speaker, and you know Jolly hasn’t hung up because the call time is still ticking. But that still doesn’t calm your nerves by any means as you wait for his response.

It’s been two days since you texted Noah, two days since he replied, two days since Bad Omens released their third album THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND. You hadn’t known how to go about Noah’s response so you’d thrown yourself back in to work and whatever chores needed to be done around your apartment. Your resolve had finally cracked when you shamelessly listened to the record for the sixth time (at least you think it was the sixth listen).

As soon as Miracle had ended that last time, you immediately called Jolly. You didn’t know who else to talk to. And thankfully, Jolly knows both parties personally and is the one who had told you to text Noah in the first place, so it was simply logical, actually.

But that hadn’t made it any less aggravating to wait for him to answer the damn phone call.

Finally, Jolly says something, but it has you wishing he had just hung up on you.

“He does miss you.”

God, and isn’t that just fucking wonderful information? The single sentence brings tears to your eyes. You fold your arms on top of the counter then rest your cheek against them.

“Jolly, he—“

“Don’t say what I think you’re about to say.” Jolly’s voice is firm, and it almost feels like a parent scolding their child. You bite your tongue anyways. “You told me you were the one to stop texting in the first place. You said your feelings were all messed up and didn’t know how to talk to him about any of it. Don’t think that your decisions didn’t hurt him, because they did. Noah wanted to talk to you about what happened but you ignored his calls, right?”

You hate how well Jolly knows you. You say nothing.

“There’s so much of you in the album, it’s fucking crazy,” Jolly continues. “Noah misses you so much more than you think he does. He wanted to figure this shit out with you. But he ended up just compiling all of it into those songs because you couldn’t pick up the damn phone.”

Tears are spilling down your cheeks now. Jolly’s words hurt — god, they really fucking hurt. But he’s speaking with so much honesty and sincerity it makes you sick. Because yes, you were the one to ignore Noah’s calls and voicemails when you first started losing touch. You couldn’t deal with what you were feeling, nor could you express how you felt at the time. You don’t think you’d be able to now.

But you need to. All of these feelings and emotions have been festering inside of you for years and years. They were nearly overflowing the first time you and Noah were intimate, then they finally flooded every inch of your body the last time you spoke. You just didn’t care enough to acknowledge them.

However, as your vision is blurry with tears and you’re quietly sniffling, you know what you need to do.

“I miss him, Jolly,” you whisper in a broken voice, scared it won’t carry through the speaker. “I miss him so much.”

“Then talk to him,” Jolly says, gentler this time.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, relenting only when you see fuzzy stars and nebulas accumulate beneath your eyelids. More tears slip down your face as you blink repeatedly.

“I’ve lost him once already. I don’t wanna do it again.”

“You haven’t lost Noah, trust me,” Jolly assures you. “To this day, he is still your best friend, whether you realize it or not.”

“What do I do, Jolly?” you ask timidly. You’re scared by his potential response, but you are already mentally writing down what you want to say after this phone call ends.

“Text or call him, and set up a time to meet,” Jolly suggests. “If you don’t, you’re gonna drive yourself insane. I mean, you’ll be our number one Spotify listener for the entire year, but let’s avoid that this time around, okay? I’d like to prevent that from happening for a bad reason.”

You chuckle a bit at Jolly’s antics. But you find yourself nodding, even though Jolly can’t see you. You push up off the countertop with a spark of something settling in your stomach.

“Okay, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” you tell him. You sniffle then stay quiet for a short minute. “Thank you, Jolly. I’m sorry for dumping all of this onto you.”

“Don’t worry about it, dude,” he responds. It’s evident that he has a smile on his face just from the tone of his voice. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Yeah, for sure. Love you. Bye.”

“Love you.”

Jolly hangs up and you’re left in the quiet of your apartment.

Now, after having talked to your older brother figure — who made you cry, that fucking asshole — you feel a sliver of determination embedding itself into your ribcage. You can feel it burrowing into the bone and marrow, slowly spreading across your entire skeleton. It infects your organs and veins and bloodstream, until it’s all you feel.

You wipe away any tears that had fallen in the past couple minutes. Your skin is hot beneath your fingers and you can your pulse in your palms. But you ignore the heat radiating off of you as you open your phone with shaky hands.

A moment later, Noah’s contact is staring at you. You’re hesitant to open your shared text thread and ask if he wants to meet up and talk. But Jolly’s encouragement echoes from every corner of your skull, each word reverberating into the tissue of your brain until it is the only thing you can remotely think about.

Then you’re typing and sending off your message before you can think twice about it.

You gingerly set your phone back down on the counter. Deja vu ripples through you, a scene in your bedroom playing in your head from just a few days ago.

But you shove that memory away as you stand up from the stool. The leg that had been bouncing hurts a bit from constantly jittering, but you ignore the ache as you begin your way to your room. You purposefully leave your phone behind.

After gathering clean clothes and a clean towel for your shower, you head back into the kitchen to retrieve your cellphone. And you see there’s a new text notification present on the screen — one from Noah.

Your heart nearly stops at his reply. You aren’t sure what you should be feeling right now. But he definitely did just say he wants to see you.

You’re shaking uncontrollably as you read the text over and over. It’s almost like you’re waiting for Noah to say this was a joke, that he never wants to see you again for as long as he lives. But it never comes as you continue staring at it.

Noah wants to see you.

Noah wants to talk to you.

Noah wants to—

Meet tomorrow night?!

You must have read that last part wrong. You read through the text several more times to make sure you didn’t misread anything or mistook what he meant. Because Noah asked if tomorrow night at your place works. At 7:00pm.

You almost decline, saying that you picked up another shift from work at that time. And you’re about to begin typing out that gentle rejection when Jolly suddenly texts you.

Jolly🎸☀️: Noah just ran in to the living room telling me you texted him. Fucking smiley bastard. Just know that I’m very proud of you for doing this!

Well, shit. Now you have to accept the meet time.

So you do, standing in the middle of your cramped hallway with anxiety on the verge of spilling out of your mouth. You swallow harshly, choking back the bitter taste as you’re typing out your answer to Noah.

But you can’t help feeling hopeful. It almost overpowers the anxious tugging in your belly. And you let it remain confined inside of you as you take your shower, letting each and every possible scenario for tomorrow night play in your head.

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

♱ foliosriot 2023

[bonnibellexox]

Let’s Talk About Caught Red-Handed (Spoilers)

With this recent chapter, I’m seeing a lot of people criticising the way I’ve written Jaune. Weak, push-over, coward etc are all ways he has been described. And while I do agree that his inaction has run its course (which is why this chapter is the end of that arc for him) I do think these critisisms come from a place that may be unfair.

Jaune (in this story) is a r*pe victim and is being abused by a very broken Ruby. This is fresh, having only happened a week ago in the timeline. He, through no fault of his own, has been sucked into an abused girls life and as a result, she wanted to take out everything out on him. She doesn’t do this intentionlly, which lends itself to his self-blame as he feels she isn’t rying to hurt him. It’s not her fault.

It starts with her withholding affection and information. She presents herself as an untouchable, desirable girl with a twisted side he desperately wants to understand. Every time he gets close, sees some genuine emotion in her, she slams the door Hard, leaving him treading lighter next time. Without this emotional depth, he, like many of you, is left to percieve her as a 2D caracature. As a result, he objectifies, sexualitises and idolises her.

Next, she hides something big from him, something he knows is scaring her. He is simultaniously made to comfort her, while also not being good enough to know what he’s soothing away. He tries to stop playing games, but she ends up birsting into tears and voicing an identity crisis. She finally lets him in, lets him have something she’s held out of arms reach for so long, but disappears immediately after without a word of explanation.

As you can imagine, this starts his spiral of selfdoubt. He worries he did something, percieved everything wrong, that maybe she was right to be so guarded. She lies and says it was all fun and games, refusing to acknowledge real connection and intimacy.

Eventually, she baits him. She uses her own suffering as a barganing chip, luring him out with promise of affection and tranparency just to use him for comfort. They get close, he relaxes, he solidifies the idea that she’s worth fighting for and that being alone is unbarable, before she rips away again without explanation.

Having enough, he follows her and finds out that for a long time, she’s been getting blackmailed. She spends her nights being tortured and r***ed. He gets close to intervening, to violently attacking the people responsible, but a friend, someone he knows Ruby genuinely trusts in the way he so craves, warns him that it will only make it worse and risk her safety.

He tends to her wounds but she abandons him again, so he confronts her, ashamed of the anger he feels at being lied to for so long. During their conversation, he offers advice and in exchange, she gives him more affection. He desperately needs a sense of control and influence over this situation, so when she tells him that he “makes everything better,” it forms a new identity for him. One that needs to help in the few ways she will allow.

Then she realises that he can bring comfort and catharsis in a darker way. Manipulating him again and again, she uses small moments of honesty to condition him. She r*pes him, she projects all her hatred onto him, and finishes it off with just enough love that he wants to believe its worth it. But they also can’t help but hate each other, resent each other. They want to hurt the only people they can get their hands on and in a moment of dispair, she taunts him into beating her badly.

From there, he starts to realise how bad things are and wants to put an end to it. But confiding in others feels like putting a target on his own back. He is toxic too, he is abusive too, he is letting her suffer because he is frozen in place. Every movement to save her rips them apart, every kiss is met with a bite, every extended hand is flinched away from.

Jaune Arc isn’t like this in the show because this Jaune Arc was crafted to be insecure, scared, starved and emotional raw. He is an abuse victim. Give him that credit before you say he isn’t tough enough, the same grace you all seem to give Ruby.

[elizabethemerald]

A Shade Darker than Red: Part 10

Masterpost

Dick felt like his already fragile hold on his family was slipping through his fingers. The death of the clown of Arkham had gone cold and no new clues were appearing. The stress of a possible new killer in Gotham on top of everything else was driving the Bats apart. He could almost feel the delicate threads fraying. 

Damian and Tim never had the best relationship and were now constantly at each other’s throats. Tim had been caught placing explosives around Gotham and Damian had been caught with a fast acting poison on his person. Which worried him even more, if he had caught them, how much had they managed to sneak past him before he noticed? 

The tension was most noted between the two younger members of the family, but it was still felt by the others. Duke looked like he wanted to pull away before the chaos turned to bloodshed and Cass was staying in Gotham only for her family and Steph. If the infighting with the family exploded into actual conflict, Dick just knew the city would pay the cost. He couldn’t imagine how terrible an idea it would be to have some kind of Gotham war or a fight for Batman’s cowl. 

As with any problem with the heroes, the citizens of Gotham were the ones who suffered. There had already been another breakout from Arkham, Black Mask and the other criminal gangs were getting more violent and pushing more drugs onto the streets, and the number of unsolved murders on their docket kept rising. The city of Gotham was reaching a boiling point, and Dick was afraid the only way to stop it was for someone to ask Bruce to return to his role as Batman, but so far none of them were willing to give him a second chance after what he did. 

He had, barely, managed to get his family back together at the Clocktower in an attempt to mitigate the damage, but even here it looked only moments from bloodshed. Tim and Damian were snarling at each other, Duke was putting more focus on his homework than his cases, Steph and Cass were withdrawn, leaning against and crouching on top of Barbara’s computer respectively. Babs was doing her level best to track down what little information they had and to keep ahead of the rising tide of chaos. Dick himself was caught between pacing and pulling at his long unwashed hair and getting between Tim and Damian before one of them did something they would regret. 

“Tim! Damian! Both of you need to calm down!” Dick snapped. 

“Tt. I am perfectly calm Grayson. It is Drake who is acting irrationally.” Damian replied immediately, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Hardly. You’re the one desperately holding onto the Robin title, as if it means anything without Batman.” Tim shot right back. 

Dick had to physically pull the two of them apart after that. It was like all of their greatest strengths were coming back to bite them. Damian had inherited so much of Bruce’s characteristics, which unfortunately included his poor emotional intelligence. Plus Tim’s genius in crime solving could be turned to finding the emotional vulnerabilities in those around him, which he was always quick to exploit. Damian pulled a knife and Dick had to wrestle his youngest brother to keep him from impaling Tim with it. 

A crackling tear opening up in the air of the Clocktower stopped the fight before it could escalate further. The tear widened and filled with green, swirling light. Damian slipped Dick’s hold and flung his knife into the hole in reality.

“Hey! What kind of hello is that?” 

The family all tensed in confusion at the voice that sounded from the portal. The voice didn’t have anywhere near the gravitas they would expect to come from a Lazarus green opening. Two hands stuck out of the portal, one of them clutching the knife. 

“I don’t mean you any harm! Please keep any further weapons to yourselves. See I have my hands up!” 

After a moment a head covered in snow white hair, with a floating crown made of stars stuck itself out of the portal and looked around, seeming to gauge how likely it was to have to dodge more weapons. 

“I’m keeping this by the way!” The being said as they emerged fully from the portal into the center of the Bats. They shoved the knife into their own arm and it vanished before their eyes. “Normally a good instinct, but less effective because your weapon can’t harm ghosts.”

They were even more confused as Damian was being praised and encouraged to attack first. The being, that appeared to be a male in his twenties, with a cloak made of the Aurora Borealis then smacked themself on the cheeks twice as if trying to wake themself up. 

“Right, right, talk like a normal person.” He looked at them all with eyes that glowed a bright, toxic green. “My name is Danny Phantom, High King of the Infinite Realms, and Ancient of Space. I’m the Ghost King! I swear on my throne, my core, and the power of the Ancients that I mean you no harm.” 

Cass relaxed and waved causing Steph to cheerfully wave as well. At her computer Babs was typing rapidly trying to find any information. 

“What brings a High King to our little Clocktower?” Steph asked, trusting her fellow Batgirls to know whether this guy was a threat or not. 

“Oh! You’re Spoiler!” Phantom turned to her with a broad smile. If it’s slightly too broad, broader than a human should be able to do, none of them mentioned it. He then waved back to her and Cass. “And you’re Black Bat. Oh I’m so excited to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” 

“All good things I hope.” Steph said with a cheery smile before it dropped off her face. “Wait, how did you hear about us? You said you’re the Ghost… King…” 

The realization hit the room like a tidal wave. Jason. The Ghost King had heard about them from Jason. Phantom allowed his face to fall to seriousness as well. 

“It is true. Jason Todd, known as Red Hood, is currently one of my subjects.” Phantom allowed his head to hang for a moment before lifting it and fixing each of them in turn with his steady gaze. “However he is more to me than just another one of my subjects. I have adopted him into my family, so in a way, you are all part of my family. And as family I wanted to facilitate a conversation. Are you ready?” 

The members of the Bat Clan were used to world shaking news but in the past couple of minutes they had been hit with a lot of curve balls even for them. The confirmation of an afterlife, that there is a monarchy that rules said afterlife, that Jason had somehow earned the favor of that monarch and that they might be able to have a conversation with Jason from the afterlife were all individually things that could shatter the foundation of their worlds. So they did what they did best and compartmentalized and put all that information to the side to freak out about later. 

When he had received nods from everyone he gestured to the still swirling portal and… after a moment… out from the portal came the ghost of Jason Todd.

 Jason immediately had to turn intangible as another blade zipped through his body while the rest of his siblings screamed and made far too much noise. Fortunately Danny had closed the portal after Jason was through and the knife embedded in the wall behind him. He pulled the blade free and tossed it back to Damian. 

“Good throw Demon Brat.” He said with a chuckle, before he gave the rest of his siblings a sheepish look. “Uh. Hi, everyone.” 

Dick immediately threw himself at Jason and wrapped him up completely in an octopus style hug. Jason floated with his brother in his arms then had to catch Cass who flung herself on top of the pair, almost bringing them all to the ground. Steph was only a moment behind and even Damian came and leaned against Jason, though he kept his arms crossed as if he was too cool for a hug. His stoic affection was ruined somewhat by Duke wrapping him up in the group hug. 

“Are you all insane?” Tim shouted from where he was standing back with his bo staff in his hands. “You can’t just trust an entity this powerful’s word! This could be an illusion or a method of mind control!” 

“Do you have any idea what would happen to me if I broke an oath on my own core?” Phantom asked with a raised eyebrow. The Ghost King was currently floating over the hugging Bats with a warm smile on his face. 

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s awful. Even if we could trust that a core is a real thing, much less capable of holding you to an oath, there is so much flexibility in what you swore!” Tim argued, his staff shaking in his hands. “Jason! If that’s really you, what is verification code Alpha, Sierra, Tango!”

Jason rolled his eyes for a moment before he began rattling off a reply. 

“Sierra, Uniform, Kilo, Mike, Yankee, Kilo, November, Uniform, Tango, Zulu.” 

“See! That’s not the proper reply at all!” 

“Yeah it is Replacement.” Jason said with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I would say if you asked me to do some stupid coded verification phrase.” 

“No it's… wait a minute. Hey!” Tim looked offended for a moment before he finally decided to set paranoia aside for once in his life and dropped his bo to the side. He took a running jump and landed on top of the pile, finally overpowering Jason’s flight and bringing the whole family to the ground while Danny laughed uproariously above them. Barbara wheeled her chair over to join them, wiping tears from her eyes. 

The happy, tearfilled reunion was interrupted by one of Barbara’s proximity alarms going off. She turned back to the computer, the Bat pile slowly breaking up, though still staying close to each other to see a woman with long red hair and a pile of pizzas in her arms at the bottom of the elevator. Babs turned on the intercom and they could hear her talking. 

“Hi? Oh Hello! My name is Jazz, I’m with Danny and Jason, fully human person just here to help break up the tension of a very stressful conversation. I swear on the Infinite Realms and the grave of my brother that I don’t mean any harm.”

Babs looked to Jason and Danny to see them both nodding and keyed in the control for the elevator to open for Jazz. They waited in almost total silence, all of the siblings with at least a hand on Jason as if he would disappear if they took their eyes off him for the elevator to come up. As soon as the door opened to Oracle’s control room Jazz took a bold step out, then immediately ducked and lifted the top pizza box to catch a flying knife from Damian. 

“Jason, you were right, Robin absolutely would greet all three of us with a knife.” Then she turned to address Damian. “Please remember, I’m human and I won’t heal like ghosts do, so be more careful in the future.” Damian actually looked slightly guilty, though maybe that was for being so easily predicted. Then Jazz pulled the knife free of the box and pocketed it. “Also I’m keeping this.” 

Soon enough the entire family was eating, pizzas spread around the room. They had remembered that Damian was vegetarian, that Steph was an animal and liked pineapples on her pizza and that Cass and Tim would eat anything so long as it wasn’t moving. Danny had summoned a ghostly pizza from a smaller version of his portal for him to share with Jason. Even one of the pizzas being slightly stabbed didn’t inhibit their enjoyment any. 

Dick wanted nothing more than to enjoy just eating pizza with his family again, he loved being able to see them all smiling, all together, but he knew this wasn’t all there was to this. He might not be as paranoid as Tim or Bruce, but he still had his own moments. A king of a different dimension didn’t orchestrate a reunion like this for no reason. Once everyone had a bit of their food, he wiped his mouth and sat forward, drawing the attention of the others who all settled as well. 

“Not that I’m not happy for another chance to see my Jay-bird…” Dick said, trying to fight down the grief of seeing the ghost of his brother in front of him. “But I’m sure there is a real reason you’re allowing this conversation.” 

Danny nodded and flicked his wrist causing the remains of his ghost pizza to disappear. He floated lower and drew the attention of the entire room, living and dead, before he began. 

“It’s time to talk about the Curse of Gotham City.”

[its-my-whump]

Whumpril2023 – Day 28

Bedridden - Semiconscious - Light Sensitivity

TWs: hospital treatment, panic, desperation

David had been sitting at his little brothers bedside for days by now. Sammy was hospitalized on Thursday with a gunshot wound to his upper abdomen. The bullet had not only graced his intestines but also his left lobe. That was the reason for this disgusting gurgling sound while he had been fighting to breath at all. At this point he had been breathing his own blood, that had already been bottling up his lung.

Still in the ambulance they had to intubate him, because his chances of surviving even the drive to the hospital had decreased dramatically all of a sudden. When they finally made it to the casual ward, Sam was rushed into emergency surgery.

David was pacing the hallway for hours, in which he was tearing his own hair, biting his nails and cursing the whole world and this damn bitch with a nervous trigger finger in particular.

He was still on the verge of freaking out because no news of his little brothers condition had reached him, when police tried to talk to him about the unfortunate use of a firearm. He couldn't give much coherent information, but he managed to name the murdering psycho bitch, high on coke, who had done this to his brother.

Yeah, his brother! Who probably wouldn't make it. Sammy was in surgery for several hours. The hole in his stomach and his lung had to be closed, but he had already gone into hypovolaemic shock from the huge blood loss. His organs had started to shut down.

Surgeons and staff were fighting for his life, but in the end he slipped into a coma. Which was marginal better than the other opportunity of slipping into ever lasting darkness for good.

The dedicated team managed to stabilize him as good as his currant condition would allow it, but there was only so much they could do. Now it was on him to fight his way back to the living side. He was medically respirated for his body was too weak to manage breathing on his own anymore.

David had been sitting by his bedside almost fife days. His clothes were handled as evidence and he got some scrubs when he had to hand them over to the police. So there was no need to go home and change. The desperate brother had showered in the hospital for he wasn't going to leave his brother more then necessary and he couldn't bring himself to enter the apartment again. The possibility, that it could be sealed for being a crime scene doesn't even reach his attention.

The big guy had dozed off in his uncomfortable position arranging himself between the chair and his little brothers bed, leaning over to hold his hand. The hissing of the ventilator and the constant beeping of the EEG had been reassuring enough for him to get some sleep.

But something was wrong all of a sudden. David was pulled from his sleep abruptly. The cool thin hand under his own jerking. The constant sound of his brothers heart was acting out, hectically and alarmingly beeping. Davids head shot up, when the little guys whole body started to spasm violently.

Sammy eyes were open, blunt fear and panic written all over his pale face. He just woke up to the painful reality of having a tube down his throat. He was desperately trying to breath on his own, while badly distracted by the obstacle that was pushed down his windpipe making him gag. All machines by his bedside were blinking, the alarming noise indicating that the panic was overwhelming him.

The door to his room flew open. A brigade of people stormed in.

Davids relief of Sam waking up was as big and consuming, as his fear about the state he woke up to, was. He was pushed outside, finally standing lost in the hallway, trying to comprehend, if this all was a good or a bad sign.

Minutes passed, maybe hours or just mere seconds, David couldn't tell, when the staff left Sammys room one after another. The doctor tried to explain, but more than “woke up... needed to sedate... pulled the tube... needs to rest... stabile” didn't reach his attention. Relief was getting the upper hand by these words.

The big guy had dozed off again in his uncomfortable position arranging himself between the chair and his little brothers bed, leaning over to hold his hand. There was no hissing of a ventilator, when he woke this time, but still the steady and constant beeping of the EEG. So, Sammy really did wake up, it wasn't just a dream. The ventilator was gone. Sam still white like a ghost had a nasal cannula in his face and half open eyes were searching the room. A silent wail left his lips and his Adam's apple moved slowly, the look in this features showed that it was a painful movement as well.

Glazy eyes finally found Davids. A brief but tired smile rushed over his face. Sammy tried to squeeze his brothers hand, but his attempt was weak. His eyes closing again.

[mahapralanya]

I have been reading the From Lostbelt manga translations and my mind got absolutely fixated on these panels from chapter 11.

This isn't the only time that cannibalism is invoked as part of the process of Arjuna Alter's ascension to godhood. He acknowledges it during his interlude:

"The battle where everything spiraled out of control. A great war in which god, man and beast were liquified into sludge. I then consumed that sludge, slurping it down as if it were soup. Forgive me, that was just a figure of speech. Truthfully, what I actually did was far worse." (Source)

Although he doesn't say it with his own words, the implication is there - that was just a figure of speech; what I actually did was far worse.

This, combined with the manga panels, made me think many thoughts.

The first thing that caught my attention was the lack of gloves; we almost never see Arjuna not wearing them, and the image of seeing his bare hands, knowing how princely and royal he is, comes as striking. This, along with the focus given on his hand gestures, makes me feel like I am witnessing something that shouldn't be seen - something intimate.

And it got more intimate when I realized that it looked like he wasn't wearing any clothes. There is nothing covering him, at least from the angle we get. It might be a stretch, but I do believe that he was naked there.

Nakedness implies intimacy, but it can be translated into other things as well; in this case, I think about vulnerability, transformation/rebirth, and returning/embracing nature.

The first one should be obvious enough - humans are pretty frail without clothes, and it is far easier to hurt yourself if there's nothing protecting you. Clothing keeps us safe from the extremes of both heat and cold, and in the context of a war, paired with armor, they exist to keep one alive.

The other two things are closely tied, although I do see them as being different enough to be listed separately.

We are all born naked - and in this moment, the key point to the lostbelt's existence, Arjuna is going through a transformation, a rebirth process. He has discarded the things that made him human and is going to grow stronger, the result different from the Arjuna that he used to be.

For this to happen, he also had to embrace his own human nature, flawed and fragile, exposing himself, offering his body and soul to the earth and gods that made him what he is, embracing his primal instincts.

Every creature needs to eat.

Cannibalism in art can have many readings, and has been used as a metaphor for many things, ranging from love, depravity, and hate. Eating something because you love it so much you want to become one with it, being overcome with desire that you must eat the other to saciate your hunger, consuming your enemies so you can absorb their strength and laugh as they are reduced to nothing more than fuel to your body.

It is usually something very violent.

While not fully shown, it is easy to imagine the process of eating an entire being with one's bare hands to be a messy ordeal. Killing by itself is already dirty and violent enough, but eating one's own kill like an animal is truly something else.

It makes me wonder about how broken Arjuna's mind was at the time, as he accepted the need to do something so extreme. Baring himself, tearing the gods apart with his own hands, taking them bite after bite, enduring the taste and the sin.

The third panel says more than enough.

He hated it.

This also reminded me of a certain piece of information delivered to us during LB4: he refused to devour and absorb Karna, even after effectively killing him with his noble phantasm.

While the story paints it as a sign of Arjuna's distastes for Karna as his rival, I never really bought into that explanation. Thinking deeper, I do believe that there were other factors that played a role in this decision.

If he truly hated Karna, I believe he would have eaten him - it would have been the ultimate demonstration of power, and to devour him after killing him in his own terms would be incredibly cathartic... In theory.

One could say he was far too removed from his humanity to care about his feelings for Karna, but we know that this isn't exactly true either; it is Karna, after all, that ends up being able to reach Arjuna's core, his humanity, which he hadn't truly lost but actually buried away, hidden deep under his skin.

I believe he spared Karna as a call for help.

Arjuna Alter's origin story is nothing more than a tragic tale, full of trauma and horrible, complicated feelings. He wants to get rid of it all, to discard and erase them away - to remake the world over and over, until there are no traces of suffering, of the things he lost, the sins he commited.

But it's impossible to erase one's own flawns; in Arjuna's mentality, that would mean erasing himself. Karna says so directly to his face, making him confront himself and do some actual self reflection after centuries of denial.

Of course, this doesn't mean that other characters wouldn't have been able to figure this out themselves and have this dialogue with him; however, having it coming from Karna hits him different. It makes him realize how far he has come, to the point that he isn't, as he directly says shortly before dying, the man he used to be.

Arjuna never wanted to become evil. He never wanted to lose his humanity. All those violent things he did, stripping himself from who he was raised to be, it was all an act of desperation.

He never wanted to lose his ties with Karna, as severing them would make his world imperfect, exposing him to the flaws that are his own feelings, the fact that he isn't as emotionally detached as he wanted to become.

Karna needed to exist to save Arjuna from himself. Karna needed to exist to become his downfall.

Arjuna Alter, unconsciously, bared himself to be devoured by Karna, as only destruction could be his salvation now.

And Karna saved Arjuna, both god and human, at the end of the world.

[earlgreydream]

abandoned.

| zemo x reader | smut |

dark!zemo

cw: highly dubcon (kinda noncon), abduction, mentions of torture, forced breeding, dark!zemo, lactation kink

“You think you’re something, no?” The mocking laughter was dripping in cruelty.

You bit your tongue so hard you tasted blood. Your eyes stayed trained on a crack in the floor a few feet ahead of where you were kneeling on cold cement.

You didn’t react when a hand cracked across your face, knocking you to the side, trying to pull an answer out of you.

“They’ll come for me. The avengers won’t leave me, they’ll come back for me!” You spat, looking up into cold brown eyes. They were empty, soulless in fact. His gaze iced your soul, sending a chill down your spine.

“My darling, not even god himself can save you now,” he sneered.

“Fuck. You.”

“You’ll join us, Y/N. You’ll become well acquainted with your villains when you realize there’s no other option.”

You should your head, screaming against the gag that was shoved in your mouth, silencing your vengeful yells.

. . .

Months. You had been abandoned for months.

After being abducted on a mission in Sokovia, your team had never returned for you. Or if they had, they never found you.

You’d been locked in a cold, cement chamber. You were left alone, only fed and given water as little as necessary.

Helmut Zemo was determined to break you.

. . .

Three months later, the door opened, light pouring onto the cement floor.

“Submit to me, and I’ll let you out of this cage,” Zemo knelt down, his thin lips curving into a lopsided smile.

“You’ve spent months here in this filth. Don’t you want to be cleaned up and fed and doted on? You are so pointlessly resistant.”

“Please get me out of here,” you begged weakly.

All of your resolve had crumbled. Your team never saved you, and you were all out of options. The only thing standing between you and getting out of this cell was your own stubbornness, and you were ready to give it up.

You felt like your mind was fracturing, and you were left numb, pliant for the sadistic baron. You decided you didn’t care what “submit to me” meant— as anything would be better than your current situation.

A leather-gloved hand was held out to you as chains were removed from your wrists. You hesitated before taking it, letting the baron pull you to your feet.

That was the first time you realized how much bigger Zemo was than you. He was tall, broad, and strong, with a dominating presence that overpowered you.

And cold, empty eyes.

. . .

You didn’t know which was worse: being in a solitary dark cell, or being Zemo’s toy, decorated and attached to his side like a pet.

You’d gotten so used to the feeling of his hands on your body, you almost craved it. You were starved for affection, for touch, for interaction, and Zemo was the one satiating your needs.

“Come here, little one.” 

You rose from your seat on the chair in the corner, approaching Zemo. He was lounging on his bed in a white bathrobe, an arm tucked behind his bed. The baron watched you walk over to him, having no reason to disobey. You’d abandoned all of your resolve, and you went to his side when asked. 

If you behaved, he didn’t torture you. You’d learned after your first attempted escape, you were far better off just doing as he asked. When you obeyed Zemo, you were awarded the liberty of being dressed and fed, and he wasn’t violent with you. 

You flinched when he reached up and touched your face, turning your head away. 

“Get on the bed.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, opening your eyes to look at your captor. 

“Get in the bed on your own, or I will force you.”

You crawled onto the mattress, letting him push you onto your back. It seemed to appease him a bit, because he lifted your hips and put a pillow under you, carefully smoothing his hands up your legs. 

“Aren’t you going to get a condom?” you asked weakly as he dropped his robe and pulled your knees apart. You’d stopped resisting, looking up at the blond in concern.

“No, my darling, I’m going to breed this little body of yours, and let you carry my heir,” he said, making your body feel frozen. You couldn’t swallow the knot that swelled in your throat, choking on the fear his words instilled in you. 

“Don’t cry. You’re going to look gorgeous when you swell with life,” Zemo said, sliding his hands up your body and kneading your breasts roughly.

“And these... My heir may have to share,” he growled, lightly biting your skin. 

“Zemo, Zemo, please. Get someone else, I don’t...” you sobbed, weakly pushing at his chest. He gripped your wrists in one hand, easily overpowering you with his size. 

You despised how good of a fuck he was. He filled you perfectly, even more so when he wasn’t protected. You tried to block out who it was, just feeling another warm body. 

Zemo at least had the grace to make you come first. 

It made your body relax around him, clouding your mind with happy chemicals as he emptied his seed in you, buried so deep he was practically shooting into your cervix. 

He didn’t let you up, forcing you to lay with your hips elevated, staying buried deep in your sex. He hushed you, though not harshly. 

“I know it’s frightening, but just take it. Be my brave girl, Y/N.”

“You’re sick.”

“Oh, darling, you don’t know the depths of my depravity.”

You didn’t doubt him.

. . . 

Zemo had been informed by several of his employees that you wouldn’t stop crying, and they kept asking to sedate you. He’d harshly declined, reminding them of your pregnancy. 

Finally, he left his work, going to see what the problem was. Since you’d been carrying his child, you’d become more docile, and even less resistant to him, as if the part of him growing inside of you had plunged you fully into stockholm syndrome. 

“Y/N. Whatever is the matter?” Zemo entered his chambers, which had become yours as well. 

You looked up at him, wrapped in a knitted blanket, curled up on the corner of his couch. He knelt down in front of you, and an outsider may have thought he was caring. Really, he was worried about his heir, your extreme stress becoming problematic. You didn’t matter to him.

“You will answer me, unless you want to sit back in that cell.”

“I’m lactating too early and it hurts,” you confessed in embarrassment, tears spilling past your waterline. 

Zemo pulled your shirt off of you, freeing you from the constraining fabric. You let him inspect you, begging softly for help.

“Please do something, I’m in pain,” you begged, choking on your words.

He hummed, having half a mind to let you sit and weep. He watched you for a moment before an alternative came to mind. 

“Come here,” he commanded, sitting beside you. 

He helped you onto his lap, easing you to straddle him. He carefully squeezed your breast, earning a pained whine. Nothing happened at first, and you squirmed in discomfort. You cried out when milk started to drip from you, easing the painful pressure. 

“Zemo?” you questioned softly in embarrassment as he leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking the milk into his mouth. 

You were horrified, but you couldn’t deny him as the pain began to dissipate. It was terribly arousing, and you carded your fingers through his hair, your dark, twisted, unhinged lover. 

When he moved to the other one, you had stopped crying, soothed by the relief from pressure and pain that had been plaguing you for days.��

“Better?” Zemo asked, pinching you enough to hurt. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“I expect you to be good for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

[wicked-mind]

Betrayed: Chapter one

Betrayed

Summary: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: A bit of violence, a hint of PTSD

Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

NOTE: This story is set post Endgame, but Natasha is still alive and Steve never went back in time to be with Peggy. Although I have always been a fan of creative writing, this is my first time writing based on any movies/series. Any feedback would be appreciated (: Enjoy!

*gif not mine

_____________________________________________________

CHAPTER ONE- You

“ALERT: PERIMETER BREACH!”

The alert echoed through the rooms of the facility, waking everybody up at the ready for a fight. Natasha was the first one up and slowly sneaking out of her room, armed with a gun. She stopped at a door and opened it, Steve had his shield and was ready to follow her with a nod. They slipped into the hallway together. Bucky joined them, as well as Wanda. They all spread out and went down different hallways in teams.

“We have movement in the kitchen.” Nat whispered to her ear piece, which had Sam and Clint on the other end moving on the opposite side of the facility through the kitchen. They all stopped, looking into the dark room. Nothing was touched. Nobody was there. They slowly spread out into the kitchen, checking any corners where someone could be hiding.

Nat lowers her weapon and looks around at her teammates, who looked as confused as she was. They didn’t get false alarms. Nat suddenly looks down at her phone, which she was using to track movement in the facility.

“There’s definitely something moving around here.” She said, showing Steve. He looked as the dot bounced around the screen, shifting to different rooms. It was going through all their bedrooms, before stopping at the edge the hallway that lead to the kitchen.

Both Nat and Steve looked up to the edge of the hallway. Nat already had her gun pointed, ready to fire. The rest of the team gathered around the entrance, keeping their distant and following Steve and Nat’s lead.

“Whoever you are, come out now!” Steve demanded, stepping forward a few feet and squinting his eyes in the darkness.

The room paused for a moment as something was heard moving in the darkness. Out of the black, a pale foot popped into view, followed by another. A woman now stood in front of the avengers. She was shoeless, dirty, and pale. She was wearing black shorts and a light blue shirt which had mud and what looked like blood stains on them. Her hair was a mess, her face dirty. But her eyes... they glowed a deep red. The woman tilts her head, eyes locked on Steve. In her hand she held one of Steve’s dirty shirts from yesterday, twiddling it in her fingers.

“Steve...?” Y/N whispered from the shadows. She kept his shirt in her hands, gripping it so tightly that her fingers could tear it apart. Her voice was soft, meek.

Steve looked on confused as why the woman held his shirt, but when he looked at her face as she spoke his name, he rushed forward a few steps, waving his hand behind him for Natasha to lower her weapon, “Y/N?” He asks softly, continuing to walk towards her, “Turn off that alarm.” He said back to Nat, who quickly stopped the blaring alert that kept repeating perimeter breach. The room fell silent.

“Who is she, Steve?” Sam asked, approaching Steve slowly, keeping his eyes on the woman. He was still on defense as were the rest of the avengers.

“Y/N... my sister..” Steve said, continuing to slowly walk towards Y/N slowly with his hands outstretched to show he wasn’t a threat. He thought she was dead. Last he heard she was at boarding school with Bucky’s sister, Rebecca. When he came out of the ice he looked her up immediately. All that was on file was that she finished school, had a family, and passed away peacefully in her sleep. He obviously knew now that was a lie.

Bucky came out of the back, stepping into view from the darkness. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Y/N... it had been decades since he had seen you. His heart felt heavy as he observed her, seeing her dirty and covered in dried blood. Y\N was his sister’s best friend. Him, Steve, Bex (Rebecca), and Y/N were always around each other after Bucky and Steve met. He would always steal glances at her, noticing that she would also steal some glances at him and flutter her eye lashes at him. She was always so happy, laughing and tucking her hair behind her ear, looking up at him. He remembered before he was deployed, Y/N snuck out with him to watch the sunrise. She watched the sun kiss the sky, creating vibrant orange streaks. Bucky remembered watching her. The way the fresh rays hit her skin, watching her small, content smile. He didn’t want the moment to end but knew it was coming to a close. He had reached out and gently touched her hand with his fingertips, “Hey Doll, I’m going to need something to keep me motivated while I’m away,” he said gently, smiling softly as she accepted her hand into his. She turned to look at him, her large blue eyes locked on his, “What do you say about saving me a date when I come back?”

Y/N had smiled and nodded, moving her face closer to his, her eyes flickering between his lips and his eyes. Bucky leaned in as well, moving his free hand to gently touch her warm face with his fingertips, inviting her closer. They had shared one kiss that early morning when they watched the sunrise. But that was enough to have both of them hooked on each other. After he was deployed, they would write each other. She had told him her brother finally got accepted into the military, sharing small details of which Steve had told her in letters. Always signing them with xoxo and hearts. But then the letters stopped from Bucky and Steve. Y/N was heartbroken to not hear from her boys.

Now, Y/N was standing in front of him. Bucky was trying to muster up some words to speak, letting her know he was there too. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. When he was back in his right mind after his return, he had looked her up also, wondering what became of her. He was given the same information Steve had. But obviously, something happened. She was young still, alive. “Y/N.. Doll, what happened?” Bucky finally found his words, moving to step closer to Steve, who was still slowly making his way towards his sister.

Y/N finally moved. Well, her eyes did. The deep red eyes flickered to Bucky at the sound of the new but familiar voice voice. Suddenly, her grip on Steve’s shirt tightened, pulling at the fabric. In the silence, everybody could hear it tear ever so slightly as a deep growl was heard coming from Y/N. Her eyes locked on Bucky’s face. Her gums slowly rose, her teeth showing which made the growling even more audible. “You....” was all that passed her lips, her eyes locked on Bucky’s face.

Y/N emotions changed quickly. She was soft, almost scared looking before. Now she looked threatening, angry. Small wrinkles appeared on her forehead as if she was frustrated. In a swift movement, Y/N lunged at Bucky. She was fast, really fast. Steve tried to grab his sister, but was pushed away with ease by her hand, throwing him across the kitchen and into the dining table. She had her hands outstretched at Bucky as she lunged at him. She almost had him in her grasp, and all she could think about was killing him. Shutting those blue eyes forever. But, as she got closer, an arrow hit her shoulder, shocking her. She froze and her body seized from the electricity, before dropping to the floor unconscious.

Bucky turned his attention to Hawkeye, who shrugged, “What? It got hostile real quick.” He said, walking to Nat’s side who had just stood there, confused by the whole ordeal that was unfolding in front of her. Steve sprinted back over to his now unconscious sister on the floor, shooting daggers with his eyes at Clint. He kneeled down, removing the arrow from her shoulder. Bucky leaned down as well, lifting his metal arm to sweep away some hair from her face. As soon as he touched her, Y/N eyes opened and locked with his again. She grabbed his metal arm, twisting it away from her and quickly jolted up towards Bucky. Her face buried in his neck, which almost looked like affection. But given that Bucky let out an audible yelp of pain, it obviously wasn’t. He pushed her off of him and into Steve’s arms, who held her tightly, trying to back her away from Bucky. Y/N was growling, struggling in her brothers arms as her eyes were still on Bucky, determined to rip him to shreds. Nat quickly moved, pushing three needles into Y/N’s neck, causing her to slowly slip into unconsciousness once again.

“You sedated her?” Steve asked, looking at Nat.

Nat looked at him, “Well duh.. did you prefer her trying to kill Bucky?” She said, waving her hand over at Bucky who had his hand to his neck, blood dripping between his fingers. Clint and Sam were immediately at Bucky’s side, assessing his wound. She had bitten into his neck, taking a small chunk with her. Clint and Sam started moving Bucky to get him to med-bay to assess the bite.

Steve picked his sister’s unconscious body up into his arms, turning and walking back down the hallway to his bedroom, placing her on the bed. Those sedatives should keep her down for a while, but then again so should have the shock from the arrow. He had never seen his sister so violent. Sure, he would see her stand up to bullies for him when they were younger. He was a scrawny kid who got beat up a lot, but as soon as his sister showed up she was always able to calm the bullies down with her charm to leave Steve alone when Bucky wasn’t there to save him. But she was never violent. Always kind with a smile on her face. He looked at her now. He never imagined seeing her this way. Dirty, broken looking. Her swept some hair away from her face as Bucky did, but she stayed unconscious.

“Wanda, Nat.” Steve called, knowing they were at his doorway watching, “Can you help get her cleaned up?” He said softly, his eyes not leaving his sister. He didn’t want to see her like this. She looked like she had crawled out of a grave. Crawled out of hell.

Nat nodded, disappearing down the hallway to get some clean towels to help wipe off the dirt.

“Of course.” Wanda said, quickly going to her room to get a change of clothes for Y/N. They looked about the same size of clothes.

Nat returned with a bowl of clean water and a couple medium sized towels, sitting on the opposite side of the bed from Steve, slowly dabbing away dirt from Y/N’s pale skin, “You know there’s going to be some questions when she wakes up..” Nat said, looking over at Steve who nodded, “I think we all have some questions.” He stated.

Wanda returned and picked up a clean towel, starting to help Natasha get rid of the dirt and dried blood. Wanda suddenly froze, looking at Steve and waving for Nat to back up a little bit, “She’s waking up.” Wanda stated.

Nat looked at her, “I gave her three sedatives. She shouldn’t be waking up so soon.” But backed off a little like Wanda said.

Steve took his sister’s hand, standing and hovering over her so he was the first one she would see. Her eyes opened, the red staring at him, “Steve...” a small smile came onto her lips, but as she noticed the two women in the room, she sat up, scooting away from them a little.

“Woah... Y/N, look at me.. Y/N, it’s okay.. they’re here to help. They’re my friends.” Steve said with a small smile for confidence, lifting his other hand to touch her face, “This is Natasha, and Wanda.” He said, introducing you to the women. “Would it be alright if they helped clean you up? You’re really dirty right now and it would make me feel better if you’d let them.”

Y/N looked at Wanda, then Natasha, listening to Steve. She nodded. Her whole demeanor had changed again. She wasn’t threatening at all, instead she seemed a little scared, timid. Wanda gave Y/N a comforting smile, “Come with me, Y/N, I’ll help you to the tub to clean you up. I got some clean clothes too.”

Y/N looked to Steve, as if to ask if it is safe. Steve nodded and slowly helped Y/N to her feet, walking with her down the hallway as Nat and Wanda lead the way. Nat opened the door to the large bathroom and turned on the tub, checking the temperature of the water. Wanda slowly reached her hand out to Y/N, as if to ask permission to help remove her dirty clothing. Y/N nodded to Wanda to accept her help, but then looked at Steve. Her nose scrunched, “Get out, Steve.” Y/N said.

“What? Y/N I’m not leaving.” Steve said, looking at her confused.

“You are not about to see me undress, get out.” Y/N repeated, giving her brother a look as she gestured to her clothes. She seemed almost normal again. She offered Steve a small smile, nodding, “I’ll be fine..”

Steve looked at Nat who nodded in agreement. Steve sighed, “I’ll be outside the door if you need anything.”

Y/N nodded, watching her brother exit and the door shut behind him. She gave a small smile towards Wanda to let her know she can continue to help. Nat and Wanda helped Y/N remove her clothing. Some of it crusted to her skin from blood. It was obvious there had been some wounds on Y/N that caused this, but there were no open cuts. Just small silver scars on her body. Y/N slowly stepped into the warm water, sitting down. She brought her knees to her chest, hugging them in the water. The clear water quickly started turning a brownish color from all the dirt and blood on Y/N’s skin. Nat and Wanda gently scrubbed her skin with sponges until they finally found pale skin underneath the grime. The two ladies helped Y/N wash her hair in silence. Nat was keeping a close eye on Y/N, still unsure what to think due to the fact she had attacked Bucky. But Y/N hadn’t made any threatening moves towards anybody else. It was like for that split moment she had turned into a totally different person, one full of rage and violence towards Bucky.

Wanda smiled at Y/N, “All clean!” She beamed, reached to unplug the drain to allow the dirty water to empty the tub. She grabbed a towel, holding it up for Y/N to step into. It was like Y/N was a totally different person beneath the filth. Nat and Wanda could now see the family resemblance with Steve.

“I’m going to go check on some things, Wanda will help you get dressed and anything else you need, alright Y/N?” Nat smiled and put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder in a comforting way. She then made her way towards the door, opening it slightly to leave but not enough to let Steve see into the bathroom.

“Thank you, Natasha.” Y/N said before Nat slipped out the door, then looked to Wanda, “Thank you, also.” She smiled slightly while Wanda unfolded the clean clothes and passed them to Y/N to get dressed. She quickly put the clothes on. Some dark grey sweat pants and a black T-shirt. They fit perfectly. “Thank you again, Wanda.” Y/N said, giving a smile to her.

Wanda smiled back, “Of course. Now let’s brush that hair.” She said, holding up the brush in her hand. Y/N turned around to allow Wanda to brush through her long blonde hair, detangling it. She stared at herself in the mirror. It was like a totally different person staring at her. She was clean, she looked normal. It left a small smile on Y/N’s lips seeing herself like this. Normal. Besides the red eyes staring back at her.

When they were finished with Y/N’s hair, they exited the bathroom. Steve looked at Y/N, smiling as she finally looked again like the sister recognized. He reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, leaning his head on the top of hers, his cheek now damp from her wet hair. Y/N smiled at the hug, wrapping her arms around her brother and hugging him back. It had been so long. She had missed him so much.

Steve led her back to his bedroom, thanking Wanda for the help before closing the door so the siblings could be alone. He watched as Y/N walked around his room, observing it. She looked at the pictures on the wall, the contents on his desk, taking in everything in the room. Steve stood there for a moment silently, letting her look around, before clearing his throat which brought Y/N’s attention back to him.

“Y/N. Can you tell me what happened? How are you here?” He asked, his voice soft and calm, caring.

Y/N stood silent for a moment, staring at her brother, before sitting down at the edge of the bed, “Am I in trouble?” She asks, looking down at the floor.

Steve shook his head, moving to sit by her, “No, no no Y/N. I just need to understand what happened... why you attacked Bucky and-“

Y/N flicked her head up, her red eyes staring at him, “DON’T!” She stopped him, her face twisting into an angry look again. She held up her palm and him to stop him from talking, “Don’t... say his name. He’s a traitor. He deserves everything he will get. He’s dangerous.”

Steve’s brow pulled together in confusion of why his sister snapped at the name. Why would she call him a traitor? They were best friends, and Steve swore they were closer than he wanted them to be. He remembered their flirtatious looks, the way they would steal glances at each other. She had never spoken ill of Bucky, what changed?

“What do you mean? He’s our friend, Y/N, remember?” Steve asked, careful not to say his name again to not set his sister off.

Y/N quickly stood, looking at him, “He is NOT our friend. He did this to me, Steve.” she said, her hands gesturing towards herself, “He’s the reason I’m like this.. he helped them create me...” her voice slowly got softer as she spoke, tears welling up in her eyes. “He tricked me, told me he came back from deployment and wanted to keep our promise. I stood there like an idiot, all dressed up. But then, he appeared. His eyes empty. He just grabbed me.. and... he took me to them...” she said, her right hand going up to grip the side of her head scrunching her freshly washed hair, her breathing quickening, “He stood by as I screamed... they played with my head... and he just watched... I called to him to save me and he turned his back on me... he... he...” she started to seem like she was hyperventilating, pacing around the room, gripping her head.

Steve stood quickly, pulling his sister into his arms again, shushing her softly to try and get her to calm down, “I’ll figure it out, Y/N. Just shh... calm down. Rest.” He said. He was able to get her to sit down on his bed, still hugging her until she fell asleep. He let her lay on his bed, tucking the blanket over her as she slept. He asked Wanda to keep an eye on her and let him know when she was waking up, to which Wanda nodded and sat in the chair next to the bed. There was something familiar about Y/N to Wanda, but she couldn't place how. Steve walked down the hall on his way to med-bay, a serious look on his face. He had to hear for himself if what his sister told him is true. He had to get some answers from his best friend Bucky.

[dirt-cup-draco]

Thorin x Reader- One Foot in Front of the Other

Hellooooo! I was wondering if you could write a Thorin X Reader where it’s on the road or in Erebor. The reader suffers from an anxiety attack so Thorin calms her down and helps her go to sleep? @thethorinoakenshieldsimp

warning: it was 4am when I wrote this and I didnt proofread

It was a perfect storm that brought you to your knees. Half of the company had been injured in a sudden attack by a single orc who had been scouting the area on his warg. You had all been caught unaware and by the time any of you had reached for your weapons it was too late for the fight to be swift and clean. Bombur had a wound that ran the entire length of his calf, Nori had a dent in his forehead that was bleeding into his eyes, two of Oin's fingers had been broken and worst of all Thorin had been rendered unconscious by a foul hit to the back of his head that required stitches.

Each look of shock and howl of pain had made your legs turn to jelly and the blood in your veins churn slowly as you froze up. Your hand had still been hovering just above the hilt of your dagger, still sheathed, as your friends-- your family-- fought for their lives. It wasn't the first time, yet it was the first time that your hesitance had resulted in bloodshed.

The chaos that day was enough that no one seemed to notice the pallid cast to your teary eyes or the quivering of your bottom lip. The dwarves, wizard, and hobbit who you had spent weeks with were made of something stronger as they forgot of the attack the moment they were stitched up and found another place to set up camp.

You were grateful that your emotions escaped the scrutiny of your dearest friends as you all gathered around a fire that night. The warmth of the flames were beginning to become too much as you all just sat. Weren't they concerned? What if you were to be attacked again? What if Thorin- what if anyone you cared for- befell a fate more terrible than a wound that could be stitched up?

They have nothing to fear, they are warriors. You are the fool who hesitated. If they are to die it will be because of your mistakes.

Suddenly, you couldn't take in a full breath of air.

You would blame the choked gasp that escaped you instead on the smoke rising from the fire as you stood abruptly, hands squeezed into fists. Your nails were biting into your palms and it was all you could do to ground yourself as you took shaky steps away from the fire.

"I'll be back!" You tried to inform everyone but your voice came out quiet and trembling. Only Thorin caught your words, having been seated a foot away from you on his bedroll. He gave a sharp nod and you stumbled over every step you took until the laughter and conversation of your friends had faded into a muted buzz. The fire was a speck when you looked behind you.

You fell to your knees in the high grass, dew seeping into the knees of your trousers. You took a deep inhale, held it for three seconds-- one... two...three...-- and attempted to exhale at a similar pace. You couldn't fall apart, not when there were people counting on you.

Go ahead, fall apart. They know when the time comes you won't be of any use. Thorin knows that you can not be depended upon.

Your own thoughts were a hard right hook to your fragile state and you dug your palms into your eyes to hold back tears. "I've got to get out of here,"

"Do you truly mean such words?"

You froze in place, once again rendered immovable by an ambush. You had certainly not expected anyone to follow after you, let alone the holder of your heart and the source of your courage on the roughest of days.

"I-I... Thorin what are you doing here?" You offered lamely, trying to coax your body into moving. You tried to stand but you were feeling such whiplash that instead you stayed on the grass, choosing to face Thorin despite the redness of your cheeks and the glassiness of your eyes.

"You seem....unwell,"

The dwarf before you seemed uncomfortable, his eyes darting around the dark landscape spread out around you all. The two of you had this clearing all to yourself, your company tucked into the trees; eating rabbit stew and laughing. It seemed Thorin would be much happier in their company. Your head began to spin again but locked onto the only possibility. He must be here to reprimand you.

"It wont happen again, I promise!" You hurried to say but you felt fear well up in the pit of your stomach. What if it did happen again? "I froze and that is unacceptable but I need to see this through Thorin, I need to be here," Even if it's as a shield, I can be of use.

Thorin's gruff features warped into a mix of understanding and confusion. Your fearless leader knelt in the grass, so near that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. If you reached out you could touch his chest, tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, hold his hand. It would never be welcome, but you longed to prove yourself to Thorin and to win his heart.

"I merely mean to say that you seem bothered from today's events," Thorin supplied and you pressed your lips into a thin line to keep from rambling all of your overwhelming thoughts and apologies.

"You are a brilliant and necessary member of this company Y/N. What occurred today was my fault alone. If I'd only anticipated..." Thorin's eyes were distant, a thunder cloud darkening his features. "You could have been injured or worse today and I understand if you are questioning my abilities as the head of this company. I vow to you that I will be more cautious from now-"

Your eyes felt as if they were bulging from their sockets, your shock at Thorin becoming shy and uncertain in front of you made your heart swell with affection and your belly burn with the need to protect him. You were terrified of being a useless body on this adventure when Thorin seemed to have the same damning beliefs occasionally.

"I will follow you anywhere you go, Thorin Oakenshield, I trust you with my life, and would protect you with it as well," You spoke quickly, that need to comfort him encouraging you to take his hand. It wasn't as if you had never touched the dwarf before, you knew that his hands were calloused and worn with work and battle but also gentle and steady. Yet, you were bewildered at the butterflies in your stomach that erupted at the simple gesture.

Thorin was seemingly taken aback by the conviction in your previously tremoring voice because he looked at you with saucers for eyes and that stormy grey brightened. You dropped his hand.

"I know you will, mudùmel,"His nickname for you familiar in all but definition. You wished he would give you relief and help you understand but no one seemed eager to tell on Thorin. You hoped it was nothing too cruel. He didn't seem to be the type of dwarf to mock those he led to battle however, so you held some hope it was fond.

"But I can see the toll that our journey has taken on your mind. I too have collapsed under the weight of freezing in battle and the consequences that followed have never left my mind. You were not at fault and I hate to see the torment in your eyes."

"Thorin, what if-"

"No," He sighed softly. "Please do not venture down roads that are better left untraveled. I have unending faith in you, Y/N. You belong here and I will stand for no one, not even yourself, questioning that. All I can ask of you is that you keep taking one step in front of the other and that you never doubt your place in this company."

The world had stopped spinning long ago, your breath returned to a rhythmic inhale and exhale as Thorin picked at the jagged pieces of your mind and then smoothed them over. Your feelings weren't going to vanish but you did feel a spark of pride in yourself-- Thorin surely lending you some of his own pride in you.

"Thank you," Your gratitude was clear on your face and you prayed that Thorin would not look deeper and see the love you held for him. For now, gratitude and respect would be all that was between you two and it was all you needed.

"Come," Thorin offered his hand as he stood, accepting your thanks. "We belong with the rest of our company,"

As you walked side by side with Thorin, taking one step in front of the other, you became synchronized with the dwarf beside you and the steady strides you took to the camp helped kick away the last tendrils of worry and self doubt that had been so violently plaguing you before.

Thorin didn't drop your hand until Kili sent him a questioning look with a waggle of his eyebrows.

There were many things to be frightened of in this world, and many of those things were far beyond your control but, with Thorin ahead of you, it wouldn't be hard to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

[sashi-ya]

Ch. 4 ~ NSFW ~ Trafalgar Law x F! Maid! Reader ~ A Dangerous Attraction.

AU : Mafia AU. Mafia boss Law. He IS a murderer.

TW: BLOOD. Mafia & murderers. Graphic depictions of violence. Smut. Explicit. Making love. Vaginal sex. Impregnation. Self harm. Marks, bites. Mental health issues. Trauma. Fluff. Angst.

WC: 4.2K

Chapters: one ; two; three; four; five; final

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33273136

Tag list: @rivvd-art ; @chocokaylarobin ; @fantasyfairysworld ♥

“Law!!”

“Name-ya…”

Inked fingers squeezing around your wrist, your body hanging into the void. You try to climb, but little rocks fall every time you try to use your feet to push yourself up. The desperation and Law is simply not moving, he is just holding you. If he wanted, he could let go of you and you would fall instantly. If he wanted, he could kill you and no one would know. If he wanted…

“Law! Pull me up!” you shout, with tears in your eyes. He is not listening; Law is completely frozen. His eyes opened wide; he doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe. His jaw muscles are clenched. Your arm hurts, the only thing that is keeping you alive is Law grabbing you.

“Law don’t let me fall. Save me…” you beg with tears sprouting from your eyes. “LAW!!!” you shout. The time passes so slowly, so painfully scary.

Suddenly he blinks quickly and pushes you up. Your body falls over his, you are safe now. Law hugs you; he starts crying. Your head rests over his chest, but quickly try to release yourself from his arms. “Let me go!” you shout, in distress.

Law stops hugging you and you stand up, trembling, still crying. You take your hand to your wrist, massaging the fingertips marks he has left over your skin. “I’m… you don’t understand. I didn’t…” he tries to tell you, but he fails as he stutters nervously.

“I wanna go home. My home” you tell him and start walking back through the path. You almost run; you can feel him walking behind you. Law is sobbing, he can’t stop crying. You hear some scratching noises, but you decide not to look back. If you dared to even look at him, you’ll pity him and forgive what just happened.

But something stops you, you hear a loud noise and a whining. A painful whining. You turn around, and there is Law, kneeling on the ground, right arm bleeding from the scratches he has made on himself, swollen eyes from all the crying. He keeps violently scratching his skin, and he can’t stop.

“What the hell?!” you shout and run to him. You crunch next to him and grab his arm, “Stop doing that. You are hurting yourself”. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it…” he says repeatedly. “Stop, please. You are bleeding” you tell him, holding his arm. He puts his forehead over your chest imploring forgiveness. Your shirt gets damp by his tears. A mafia boss crying like this, so weak…

“Why didn’t you pull me up instantly, Law?” you ask all of a sudden. You know that whatever he says won’t stop you from running away from him, but that question escapes your mouth unintentionally. “I… I’m… my dad. My uncle…” he stutters. “What happened?” you ask. “My uncle… killed my dad. Doflamingo pushed him by the same hill. I was in the car looking at everything. My uncle said my dad slipped away because he was clumsy, but he didn’t. He pushed him. And I saw everything. And didn’t say anything, I was afraid. My… dad…I was seven”. And suddenly everything makes sense… he was facing his trauma, but he never let you fall. He saved you… once again.

You hug him so close, poor thing. You caress his black hair, rocking him back and forth. “It’s ok, it’s ok…” you repeat. A few minutes after he stops crying, “I’m sorry” he says, nuzzled on your chest.

“It’s ok, Law…”

But you can’t take this anymore. You are going to end up dying if you stay next to him. You definitely are.

Both walk back to the cabin, you start packing your stuff leaving only the maid costume over the big, still undone, bed. Sitting on the mattress you take out the photo of your family and look at it. In the photo you see your sisters, your mom and you in your father’s arms. It’s your birthday. Behind, a tall man running with a little boy wearing a white hat. You don’t really remember their faces. You only remember that man was your father’s partner. Both policemen. They were fighting against organised crime. After your dad was shot, you never hear anything else from his partner, nor the little kid. But you keep focusing on your family, and those happy times. You were smiling so joyfully, so naive…

You hear the surgeon at the door, and quickly put the photo on your pocket. There is no way you let a mafia boss see the face of your family members. It’s just too risky...

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” asks Law, now with a white bandage around his scratched arm. “I am sure, please take me back to my apartment” you tell him. “(Name)-ya, please, stay at my house. I promise I won’t talk to you” he says, tears building up in his eyes. But you remain strong. “Please…I need time to be on my own” you tell him as if you were begging him to stop insisting. You don’t know how much you are gonna go without succumbing to the dangerous attraction he represents to you.

“At least let me keep you safe, I won’t visit you, I won’t call you. But please, stay in one of my apartments. I beg you” he finally says, approaching you. You back up instantly, somehow him touching you, scares you.

“Fine” you finally accept. He is right, if you dare to come back to that apartment you might be in danger. Law eyes sparkle, he breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, thank you so much” he says, approaching you once again as he was trying to hug you.

“Stop. Don’t touch me” you command. He freezes right away, the smile in his face is gone once again. “I’m sorry, I’ll be in the car waiting for you” he says, crestfallen and walks away. Your heart aches at him leaving the door, but you know too well this is the best decision you could have taken.

Once everything is set, and you are ready, you go downstairs. You give a last peek to the cabin, the place where Law and you let your passions go wild for the first time… a place where he almost chokes you to death… Closing the door behind you, you were sure this was the last time you would ever be in this place.

Opening the door of that amazing black car, you throw your bag on the backseat and sit next to Law. He is wearing black shades, tears falling through his cheeks. He is not speaking; he swallows and hits the gas. You don’t dare to look at him, so your head is turned towards the window. The magnificent forest, nature, a place where you’ve been the happiest… and the sudden memories of you almost losing your life for the second time…

No more than an hour passes, and you are already on the highway. The radio makes the painful silence a little less uncomfortable. A slowed cover of “We Found Love” by Rihanna playing.

“As your shadow crosses mine, what it takes to come alive.

It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny. But I've gotta let it go.

We found love in a hopeless place…

Shine a light through an open door. Love and life I will divide.

Turn away 'cause I need you more”

“Tsk…” you express. “Hum?” he asks. “Nothing…”. There was no interaction, nothing. Law’s cheeks damped. Nose red from all the crying.

“(Name)-ya… would you prefer the 6th or the 8th floor?” he asks, sniffling. “Whatever you want, it’s ok for me either way” you tell him, feeling ashamed. You are leaving him, but still living on his property… this shouldn’t happen. “Ok… Then the 8th floor. It has a big terrace” he tells you and touches the screen of the car.

“Bepo, Law here”

“Law, I’m Pen. Tell me”

“Oh, Penguin. Please take all the (Name)-ya’s stuff to Swallow inns, the eighth floor”.

“Yes, boss. Are you ok? You need us to take some of your stuff too?”

“Just hers… oh, don’t forget the Kia”

Law hangs up before his friend could say anything else. His voice clearly shows how much he’s been crying; he knows his friend would ask. You simply ignore everything he says, you don’t really want to hear even though he is speaking via Bluetooth.

After two hours, you arrive at a luxurious apartment complex over the beach. A big sign that says “Swallow Inn” announces that this is the place you are gonna be living from now on. “Damn” you think, how the fuck your life changed so much that you ended up living in such a place…

“(Name)-ya, this is the place where the apartment is located. Our… your parking spot is the number 18” he informs you. “Uhm, ok…” you say, because you don’t even have a bicycle to park in there, but hey, thanks for the information. But, when you arrive at the said parking spot, a little black car is parked there. “Nice, someone parked on your spot” you say, sarcastically.

“It’s yours…” he says. “What? No” you categorically express. “Please, accept it. This place is far from the city, and there are no bus stops nearby. Please” he insists. “Ok…” you accept, even though you are sure you are not gonna use that car.

Law takes your stuff from the backseat and tells you to follow him inside. The place is modern, everything is clean, luxurious, white, pure. “Eighth floor” he says and presses the little 8th button of the elevator and a code. “Remember, you should enter this number so you can enter home, ok?”. You don’t speak, and just nod.

The doors open inside the apartment, again everything is so white and pure. Your stuff is already in place. Big windows show the immense sea ahead. Everything is perfect, so for rich people. “Law, this place is amazing. You sure you want me to live here?” you ask.

Law turns around, takes his sunglasses off. Swollen red eyes, more dark circles than ever. He fixes his grey irises on yours. “I’d rather you live with me. But this is the best second option I have to keep you safe”. You keep looking at him, you can’t take your eyes off him. It hurts so much, even more than the bruises on your wrist, on your neck… your heart shouts “stay with me”; but your head says no… no, or you are gonna end up dying.

“By the way, this is your phone. I recommend you use this one, it’s safer. Not for me, but for you” he says, lending you a mobile phone that’s over the breakfast nook. “Thanks” you nod and your fingers graze when gabbing the phone. How hard is this…

“Well, I know you want me to go, but, if you ever need me… just, call me. Ok?” says Law, taking his hand to your cheek, but quickly stopping himself. “Wait” you say and grab his hand to your face. He gasps but grazes your skin. You close your eyes and let your head rest over his palm for a moment.

“Thank you, Law… Give me some time, please” you whisper. “I’ll be waiting for you…” he says, and a few moments later he is gone. The elevator doors close, and your legs finally turn weak. You fall on your knees. You haven’t cried until now, and now you do. Tears won’t stop falling from your eyes to the marbled floor.

“Law…”

----

After all your tears have dry, you start looking around the apartment. Your bedroom is bigger than your ex-house. The bed looks just as the one Law has in his room. Satin sheets and white fluffy covers.

A wardrobe full of your clothes, old and some new outfits they bought you from the finest brands. And next to your clothes, men's ones. “Are these Law’s?”.

You can’t help but take one of his t shirts. You choose a yellow one, with black sleeves. “It has his smell…” you say, while taking the cloth to your nose. “I don’t think he would mind if I use it…” you say and put the shirt on. It has some kind of a smiley face stamped on it, and you wonder what it means.

The night comes, and your stomach growls. The fridge is full of ingredients, Law’s subordinates are so efficient. You cook a vegetable wok that you devour right away. The place is way too big for you, but it is what it is.

You inspect the new phone he gave you, such modern and pretty. You decide to pass all your photos from your old one to it. Same as the numbers. “I should call mum…” you think, remembering about the money. Where are you going to find any money to send them? “I can’t go back to the old bar; I’ll search for work tomorrow”.

“Hi, mum?”

“Darling!! I’ve been calling you, but you don’t seem to pick up. Is everything alright? Why are you calling from a private number?”

“It’s my new phone, I don’t know how to take it off. I will ask a friend to help me, and I’ll send you my number mum. Don’t worry” you lie. “How are you? How are the girls?

“Fine baby, but are you alright? You sound so sad…”

“I’m fine mum!! I moved! I will send you the address via text, ok? You should come someday! I have a sea view now!!” You act all excited, just for her not to worry, but moms know better…

“If you need mum, come spend some days with us darling. Ok?”

“Yes mum, I’m ok. I’ll be visiting you soon!” You lie once again, choking back tears.

The conversation is soon over, and after hanging up, tears run free. “I hate lying to my mum. Damn it. Damn Law…” you grunt, while searching for the picture of your family on your pocket.

“Where the fuck…?” You say, while searching for it desperately in your jean’s pockets. No sign of the photo, and you start to panic. The last photo you have with your dad, your seventh birthday…

“Don’t tell me I lost it, please!!!” You shout and start to look for it everywhere. Every place, every square. You can’t stop crying. You just can’t… something so precious to you.

“That’s what happens when you hang with the mafia… karma” you tell yourself before falling asleep, crying.

You wake up several times during the night, as nightmares invade your dreams. Law’s scratched arms, his eyes, the feeling of falling into the void. The day the police came to your house to tell your family, someone killed your dad. The way Law choked you… the way his hands were around your neck, the way his hips moved in and out of you, the way his kisses make you feel…

“Stop right there, (Name)” you say to yourself looking at the ceiling. How can you feel horny, huh? Are you crazy? “What’s wrong with me…?”. You know what’s wrong, of course you do. You are in love with Law and can’t deny it anymore. Your body misses him, you miss his scent, you are using his damn shirt to bed. You miss him so much; you are hugging a pillow pretending it is him.

Standing up from bed, you look through the big window of your room. The sea seems calm, sun is peeking from the horizon, still lazily resting until dawn. You sigh and say, “I fucking miss you… why aren’t you here?”.

Ding, Dong…

The sophisticated sound of the doorbell resonates all over the loft. “Fuck” you think, they’ve found you… Am I in danger? Should I call Law? Bepo? You tremble and walk towards the intercom.

Ding, Dong…

“Fuck” … you slowly pick up the phone of the intercom, and the little screen next to it turns on. The image of Law, a distressed Law appears. “What the fuck? I told him to give me some space…” you think, but he signs desperately for you to open.

“Law, what are you doing here?” You ask via the phone.

“Open, please, I have something important to show and tell you, I didn’t want to enter with my code” he says and shows a little square paper. Your most precious treasure, your family photo. You widen your eyes, “enter the code, come on”.

A minute passes and the door of the inside elevator opens. Law is standing right there; he looks like a mess. This must be the third night he hasn’t slept.

“Can I?” He asks for permission to even step into your -his- apartment. “Come in. Do you have my pic?” You ask ignoring the fact of wearing his shirt and only that over your body.

“Yes, but… I need to show you something about it” Law says, while looking at you up and down with a sweet expression. “Let’s sit, this is important” he insists. So, both of you sit on the couch. Law takes your photo out of his jacket pocket and puts it over the coffee table. “This is your photo, right?” He asks. “Yes, thank you!! Where was it?” You tell, but before you could take it, he stops your arm. “Wait… it was over the car seat. But, please, look at this…” he says and puts another photo next to it.

“L-Law…”

“I didn’t know, I promise”

“It can’t be, was your dad…?

“Yes, it was” …

Both of you start crying, recognizing how linked both of you are…

Law takes his finger to your cheek, wiping a single tear. You do the same, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “Don’t…” you tell him, and you two hug. Pressing your bodies, you find the comfort, the warmth of home. That feeling you only experience when you know you are safe…

Your faces so close, your eyes fixed. The sun slowly rising, invading the place with lilac and orangey tones. Law is fighting not to kiss you, and you frankly too.

“Fuck it” you whisper and plant a sweet kiss over his lips. And that’s the spark you two needed to become fire. You set all your zipper free, no more clothes. You sit over his lap, both kissing so passionately, tongues playing with each other’s. Law cries, you cry. But you two smile pressing your foreheads.

You see how the scratches on his arm became scars already. You grab his arm and kiss softly over each wound. “Don’t do this ever again, please. If you have the need, talk to me, tell me, I’ll be there to help you…” you tell him, looking straight into his soul. Poor thing…

“I missed you” he says. “I missed you, too” you tell him. Even if you haven’t seen each other for some hours, your souls missed each other so much. You kiss him so relieved… your head keeps telling you stop, until the arousal drowns every single sign of reason.

Law gabs your thighs and stands up, carrying you to the bed. He softly puts you over the mattress, and he settles over your body. Gently kissing your neck, Law takes his time. His hands grazing your breasts so softly. “I want to make sweet love to you, I want to be gentle, I want it slow” he says, because he doesn’t want to hurt you. You smile and take your hands to his face. “Do it slow and do it faster. Do it gentle, and do it rough…make love to me, Law” you tell him.

His “death” hands travel from your neck to your waist, and even lower. His fingers buried on your hips as his mouth reaches your sex. “Spread, babe” he asks with a soft tone. You do it right away. “Good girl, now put your legs over my shoulders”. And so, you do.

Law’s mouth attacks your core, licking, tasting, devouring your juices. He little by little kneels on the bed, pushing you up. Your legs are still over his shoulders, he has better access to your core as he keeps giving you the best oral sex you ever experienced. You grab the sheets, pull from them, as your climax begins to arrive. Law presses your lower belly, while he sucks your clit. “Come on, come for me” he says, muzzled by your anatomy.

You are about to burst, and Law penetrates you with his middle finger and ring finger. The licking, the pressure, the fingering… you come, squirting, bathing his whole torso with your juices, as they come out with such pressure Law is not able to receive it all with his mouth.

“Such a good girl” he says, letting your legs over the mattress. You are panting, that position somehow made everything better… “L-Law…?” you mumble, still trembling from the orgasm you just had.

“What, baby?” He asks while wiping the rest of your climax off his chin with the back of his hand. “Don’t you ever stop fucking me like this” you tell him, so naturally, so unplanned.

“I won't, I won't ever stop”.

Law lays in bed, next to him, enjoying how you come back to normal, and the blushed on your cheeks that screams how good your orgasm felt. But he wants more, and of course, you too.

“Come here” he says and helps you to turn around. He is spooning you; you feel his hard member over your glutes. Law passes his right arm under your neck, and the left one reaches your left nipple. He pinches it, twists it. Law takes his index to your mouth and makes you suck it. “Wet it real good” he commands. Your teeth graze the E tattooed on his finger while sucking it so sexily.

The same finger, shiny from your saliva, is now tracing circles again over your nipple. You moan, it feels so good. He gropes you with his dick, your back feels the warmth of his inked chest. You push your ass against his member, trapping it in between both cheeks. Law grunts, and moves up and down, frotting his hard shaft over your rear entrance.

Your hand reaches for the surgeon’s hip. You carve your nails on his skin, pulling you even closer to you.

“Fuck me, fuck me now”. “If that’s what you want…” he says, while he bites your neck. The hand that was playing with your nipple now grabs his dick. He aligns it with your entrance, lubricating the tip with your dripping arousal. He slaps the shaft against your labia, forming strings of precum mixed with your juices.

His gland playfully hits your clit, and you squirm with it. But you burn with the need of being penetrated, filled by him. “I want you inside, please” you beg. “You want me inside? How much do you want it?” Law says pressing his mouth against your cheek, his beard grazing your skin. “Fill me up, I want it so bad. Fuck me, now…” you whine.

“Ok, my darling. Just because my shirt suits you so well” he says and kissing the side of your mouth he penetrates you so slow, little by little stretching your walls. The feeling of the tip going in and out, without fully penetrating you deep, sends you to heaven as it grazes your g spot. You can only whine his name, feeling as he gradually goes deeper, in and out.

You can feel Law’s wicked smile over your cheek as he finally penetrates you to the deepest point he can reach. Your walls clench around his member as he speeds up the pace. “Babe, you feel so good, so tight” he moans in your ear. The sound of his voice could kill you if it was meant for it.

You moan soundly, sure the neighbours could hear you, but unable to hold back as Law is now fucking you mercilessly. Soon the climax road is taken, and you are sure getting to it.

“I want to see your face while you come” Law says, and quickly turns you around. Classic missionary position, the most perfect man over you, his whole anatomy, sweating, panting.

Law puts your arms up your head, grabbing your wrists together. His body lean over you while he pounds into you, violent, deliciously thrusts. The way the muscles of his torso tightens when his hips move in and out are art, the finest piece of art you have ever seen.

And inevitably, both of you reach orgasms. This time, Law focused on your face, he didn’t bite his lip, he didn’t choke you, he didn’t lose track of reality. Law this time was being driven by love, by the only need of loving you, of making you happy… of not losing you.

You come, and so does he. Law fills you with his creamy seed. He collapses over you, still with his dick inside you, pushing his milk deep in you. Returning his breathing back to normal, he whispers into your ear “I think I’m still in love with you”.

“Still? What do you mean?” You ask, confused...

CH.5

[ablogthatishenceforthmine]

What I liked and Didn’t like about 3x07

Liked

Kory and Kom Dynamic: I am really liking what they are doing with this. It is the most nuanced and emotional affecting stuff of the episode, and of the season. Of all the dynamics in this season, there’s is the one with the best development. I found Kom’s story to be really heartbreaking, and I completely buy that Kory would start to come around on her. I do think Kom is telling the truth. I think in these moments she is being sincere and doesn’t have a larger plan at play. If she does betray Kory, I think it will not be a planned things, but something that may come up in a moment. And I love seeing Kory reckon with her this season, and past mistakes that she is made. I found it incredibly touching that Kory owned up to not being there for Kom in the past, and says that she is going try to do better now, and give Kom a chance now. Her telling Kom to join the team and giving her her suit was just really touching and heartwarming, and most of all, it felt earned. Their relationship has a real arc to it, and i am excited to see where it goes to from here. I know a lot of people are disappointed that Kom isn’t really a villain (although she may yet be, we don’t know), and I get that. But I think I might like what they are doing with them now better. It’s more intimate and character driven. What I will say, what I am upset is Kory not having her own villain to face (if Kom in fact never becomes a villain). And I definitely feel that loss bc it would be great for Kory’s character to have a villain that is so personal to her, where the conflict between them would be the emotional drive of the main plot of the season. I don’t have much hope that they will do that in later seasons with another villain for Kory. But if they would do both, that would have definitely been the ideal for me.

Kory making mistakes: And big ones at that! We know that she made mistakes in the past with her sister, and it’s great to see her recognizing that and growing. It may come back to bite her, but I think giving Kom and a chance and trying now to be the sister that she never was is the right thing for Kory to do. Regardless of outcome, I think this is something Kory needed to do for her own growth and morality. I also like that she makes a huge, terrible, deadly mistake in this episode by bringing the mobster’s son to her. The scene where the mob lady killed her own son was shocking and upsetting. And Kory is partially responsible for his death. Which i’m glad for. She was the one who brought him here, even though he didn’t want to. And though Kory was nothing but honest with him, there was some element of manipulation to her convincing him to go to this mother. It’s important that characters make mistakes that have consequences, and i’m glad they are doing this with Kory. What happened was truly horrifying. I’m also glad we get to see Kory crossing the moral lines, first with working with the mob, and then killing the mob lady out of anger. These moments make her a richer, more well-written character.

Titans have a win!: The show needed the titans to have this victory. For 6 episodes, Red Hood and Crane have been one step ahead of the Titans, always meeting them. Stories need rises and falls, peaks and valleys. It needed the titans to have a victory to give the plot momentum and more dramatic tension. So this was great! Although I have no doubt that there

51% Idea: I also really liked the 51% idea and the show exploring morally complex situations, and having characters struggle to find where the line is. You can see this in Kom’s story, in Kory teaming up with the mob, and in Dick and Barbara using oracle. 

Didn’t Like

Not seeing chaos in Gotham: We get told that Gotham is in chaos, but we don’t actually see it. We are told about the attacks, but don’t see them. This is a major problem in conveying the stakes. We know the titans are trying to stop Gotham from tearing itself apart, but we don’t actually see Gotham tearing itself apart. We are being told the stakes instead of feeling the,

Confusion about drug: Seeing gotham and the attacks would also help the effects of the drug more clear. We are told about the effects, but don’t really see them. I also have some questions about this drug. So it apparently turns normal people violent, where they can’t help but attacking other people. So are they completely out of control? Do they have any control over who they attack, or is it just whoever’s near? Is this the same version of the drug that Jason is on? Because he doesn’t seem out of control. Violent yes, but his violence is targeted. He doesn’t have the urge to just attack whoever is near him. He seems to have some control over his violent impulses. Is it the same for the others? Or is Jason’s drug different. This may get cleared up later, but I think it would have been better explained in this ep.

Exposition/procedural elements: A lot of time is spent this episode, and this season, just figuring things out. Figuring out locations of things, etc. But they are often figured out through such boring methods, such as computers, or going to a warehouse where nothing much happens. It’s very boring! Just too much time spent trying to learn info! Kory’s plot showed how to do this better, going to the mob is a more interesting awya to find out info than just looking it up in computer. It just feels like way to much energy and time is spent trying to figure out pieces of information, and not enough time spent on the titans taking action after learning information.

Dick and Barbara: Look I’m a dickkory shipper, so I was never gonna like Dickbabs. But man, I think there relationship is poorly written. I wasn’t even upset during the final scene where the kissed in the present day because I just found it so boring. The romance stuff between them feels awkward and forced. They have more of a friends chemistry than a romantic chemistry. So yeah, I just think the romance stuff between them is flat and boring. And their scenes are so repetitive! It’s just the same scene over and over and over again. They have a difference of opinion, they argue, Barbara tells Dick no or to go home, Dick doesn’t listen, and does whatever he wants to do anything, often behind Barbara’s back. Rinse and repeat. Over and over again. I thought that after 3x06, this would at least change. That we would see them work together better. But no, it’s still the same thing over and over again. It’ just really repetitive, and is getting tiring and boring. And their romance feels like it’s just going through the motions.

The writing of Barbara’s character: I like Barbara’s personality and she does have an internal life that the show cares about.  The show explores her thoughts, feelings, issues, and point of view. Except the mechanism through which this is being explored is her relationship with Dick. She only just barely exists outside of him. She has her own drives and goals and baggage, but again it is only being conveyed through her relationship with Dick. She doesn’t interact with any of the other characters, except for that one scene with Kory. So much of her character revolves around Dick.  It’s very disappointing. And I want more than anything for her to interact with and form bonds with the other titans. Even in this episode, when the team is celebrating together, she mostly converses with Dick in the few lines she has during that scene. Another problem I have with her character is that she is getting focus over some of the other characters. She is the third most prominent character this season (after Dick and then Kory). And it’s frustrating that this is the case when she is most likely a one-season character and there are long-lasting characters (Gar and Conner) that are getting shafted. Gar doesn’t have an arc (at least so far), and Conner’s arc is being minimized, only playing out in these a few, small moments per episode.

[todrokishoto]

late night conversations | shouto todoroki

summary: excitement leads to insomnia and insomnia leads to a conversation with mr. shouto todoroki

warning(s): mentions of fighting and poor half and half’s childhood. slight angst

a/n: ok but this is not where i was expecting this to go. it was supposed to be about something else lmao but enjoy ig 

your undeniable fatigue was overwhelming, but you were still unable to succumb to the sleep you so desperately needed. not yet, anyway. your body, albeit drained from the physical training performed today during class, was buzzing. 

demanding training was nothing new to class 1-a, and each and everyone of you were progressing with each round of drills the teachers would throw at you. add academic studies into the mix as well and you have the perfect recipe for exhaustion. 

your door slipped shut behind you, the excitement coursing through your veins making it impossible to remain in bed. the hardwood floor was cold underneath your bare feet, but you didn’t feel like going back to fetch your slippers. 

during class with mr. aizawa, you were finally able to nail the ultimate move you had been working on for the past couple of weeks. not only did it feel amazing to execute it flawlessly after so much practice, but it had scored you the victory in the fight against ururaka.

the auburn-haired girl had learned a lot during her internship and had put up more of a fight than you expected. you had seen her go up against some of your other classmates, but experiencing it in person was definitely something else. 

the ding of the elevator echoed, the doors moving apart, as you arrived on the first floor. thank goodness there were no rooms on this floor because you swore the sound would have been loud enough to wake someone up. 

fiddling with your phone, you moved mindlessly, trying to ignore the aches moving throughout your body. you weren’t entirely sure what you planned to do, to be quite honest, but anything seemed like a better idea than being stuck in your bedroom. 

most of your classmates were sleeping, you assumed, or at the very least tucked into bed. the unusual silence of the student dorms didn’t necessarily surprise you but it did make you feel slightly uneasy. it felt foreign. 

so when your name was called, you couldn’t contain the small yelp that escaped you. your phone collided with the floor, the sound once again echoing around the (almost) empty common room, and you winced. with a flick of the wrist, your quirk brought your phone back into your hand and you glanced up to inspect who else was awake at this hour. 

“shouto?” 

his bicolored hair fell into his eyes as he nodded. it was obvious the boy needed a haircut soon but you didn’t dare comment on it. instead, you swallowed the remainder of your shock and made your way over to the sofa he was seated on. 

“what are you doing up?” you questioned quietly, hoping you weren’t prying too much. 

“couldn’t sleep. my thoughts are a little overwhelming at the moment.”

you nodded, your lips pursing together as you tried to wrack your brain for an appropriate response. the two of you had shared a handful of conversations but he was always so formal, making it hard to decipher his true feelings about you. if anyone were to ask if you were friends, you had no idea what to say. 

he spoke first, “sorry for scaring you, by the way.”

“it’s all good,” you assured quickly, the corner of your lips twitching with hints of embarrassment. “i, uh, just didn’t expect anyone else to be awake. i can leave. if, uh, you know, you want me to.”

he shook his head, strands of red and white mixing together. he didn’t verbally protest but scooted over slightly, leaving more room on the couch for you to sit. you accepted his silent offer, not saying anything either, as you lowered yourself onto the sofa. 

the silence continued. you were itching to break it, each second passing making you feel more and more on edge. shouto didn’t make a move to talk like he had previously and you found yourself wondering if it was due to his preoccupied mind or an inability to find the right words. maybe he had just invited you to sit out of common courtesy, secretly hoping you’d decline. 

“great job—”

“so, how did—”

a smile tugged on your lips as his bicolored eyes widened slightly. you nodded, waiting for him to continue his sentence. he remained quiet for a brief moment and you wondered if he suddenly regretted what he was about to say.

“i just wanted to congratulate you on your win against uraraka. you did a great job,” he praised, his words being nothing but earnest. 

“thank you. i didn’t know you were, uh, watching,” you admitted. why were you suddenly feeling self-conscious about him watching you fight? most of your classmates had, so why was he different?

he nodded. “kirishima was able to knock me outside the ring, so i had some time to watch you both.”

“kirishima? really? i mean— he’s my friend and i love him, but he beat you? really?” 

his eyes closed momentarily as his left hand came up to his face. his fingers traced the scar framing his eye, seemingly subconsciously. you felt rude for watching him so intently but you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the contrast of his bright blue orb compared to the red mark. 

only when his eyes met yours did you realize that you had been caught staring. you averted your gaze immediately. you desperately wanted the conversation to continue and you were inwardly scolding yourself when he spoke again.

“he made a comment and i got distracted, so he had an opening. he did put up a pretty good fight before that, though,” he recalled, his gaze flickering toward his hands now clasped in his lap. “i keep getting distracted when my past or family is mentioned, which is starting to mess with my focus and training.” 

you swallowed, your chest swelling with pride. out of all people, shouto todoroki had decided to confide in you. while you knew a lot about him, his family and his past, most of the information came from your other classmates or rumors. he, himself, had never really seemed interested in sharing those details with you and you refused to pry. 

“what did he say? i’ll beat his ass.”

a laugh. you hoped the surprise you felt wasn’t physically visible. his laughter was rarely shared and you could probably count on one hand how many times you had heard it. you decided right then and there that you would give anything to hear it again and again. 

“just something about my left side matching him. you know, with the red all? it was mindless, really. no need to give him a beating on my behalf. he apologized after,” he assured. “i just... i hate that no matter what i do, my father and the family name still has this affect on me.”

his brain was reeling. you could practically see the gears turning and his internal conflict was essentially radiating from his body. eager to offer advice, you had to bite your bottom lip to keep quiet. you wanted to give him some time with his thoughts. you had interrupted him earlier, after all. 

you knew about his complicated family dynamic. he inspired you, honestly. despite everything he had experienced so far in his young life, he was still able to be one of the top students. he was still able to get up in the morning and go about his day. other people weren’t that strong. 

“i’m going to speak freely for a moment, if you don’t mind,” he didn’t object, so you continued. “no matter how much you wish he wasn’t, endeavor will always be your father. there’s not a single person who wouldn’t agree that your childhood was horrible, but you can’t change what happened.”

he listened, almost clinging to every word, desperate for validation. so you kept going,

“what i’m trying to say is that you’ve come so far. when school started, you were so reserved, obsessing over how your family name defined you. now, i see you laughing with iida and deku during lunch. you use your left side with, what seems like, no hesitation. children can’t choose their parents. you just need to keep proving that you’re better. that you’re able to come out on top. but you have to do it for you.”

you weren’t sure if your words had efficiently conveyed what you truly wanted to say. there was so much more you wanted to tell him. you wanted to praise him, encourage him, let him know that while you two weren’t the closest - you would always be there for him. 

but as he remained quiet, you couldn’t help but worry that you had crossed a line. that was it. if your relationship could be considered friendship in the first place, you had definitely ruined it now. each second of silence ensuing was like a stab to your heart, which was already thumping from nervousness, mind you. 

“thank you,” it was no louder than a whisper but you heard it clear as day. “i needed— thank you.” 

the double-quirked boy wasn’t one to openly show his feelings. everyone knew this. whether he was angry, sad or happy, his face always appeared to successfully hide it. so you pretended not to notice the tears welling up in his eyes, offering him a smile instead. 

once again, there was a silence engulfing the two of you. this one, though, wasn’t thick and awkward. it was welcome and comfortable. the kind of silence that happens between best friends and neither one of them mind. 

you were the one to break it, albeit involuntarily. you know how bodies do things that you don’t necessarily want them do? yeah, well your body did just that. shouto’s bicolored eyes met with yours as a violent shiver coursed through you. was it really that cold? 

he seemed to study you briefly before holding out his arm and angling his body slightly toward you. you weren’t sure if he was just that oblivious or if he was being bold. this time, it was your mind going into overdrive. it seemed innocent enough but you still felt hesitant to accept his offer. 

before you were able to either accept or decline, his arm had wrapped around your shoulders. with a gentle tug, you practically fell into his embrace, immediately feeling the warmth from his skin. your tense muscles relaxed and you let his heat melt away your worries. 

“my left side’s not all bad, i guess,” he mused and you swore you could hear a smirk. your face was pressed into his chest, making it impossible for you to check. 

instead, you readjusted your arm, placing it on his abdomen. he tensed up ever-so-slightly when you did, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, but neither of you commented on it. his chest continuously rose and fell with each breath, creating a rather comforting rhythm. 

“so, what did you think about my fight? did i impress mr. shouto todoroki?”

yet another laugh escaped him, his chest rumbling underneath you. you swore it was one of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard and it was easily becoming one of your favorites. you would, without hesitation, fight anyone who dared take it away from him. 

he began telling you about what he had noticed during your fight and you listened. you knew he was giving honest advice, and honestly, you could probably use the pointers but you found yourself more captivated by his voice than anything else. had it always been this smooth? 

your conversations continued. they were random and sometimes one-sided, and you had no idea how they lasted but you didn’t want them to stop. he didn’t either, it seemed, occasionally bringing up new topics himself. they continued long into the night, you were sure. 

and, eventually, fatigue caught up to the both of you. the conversations more and more scarce. his breathing growing more and more shallow, barely moving underneath you. your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. 

neither one of you retreated to your respective bedrooms. neither one of you moved; your bodies just melting together like missing puzzle pieces finally finding each other. and neither one of you heard the snickers and camera shutters from your classmates in the morning. 

[cas-kingdom]

Little Traveller

A/N: Hope you’re all doing well. <3 (Also… that gif!!!)

Find the OC version of this fic here.

Title: Little Traveller

Summary: While staying at an inn, you sleepwalk, leaving a very uneasy Geralt to come and find you.

Words: 2088

Geralt of Rivia shot up in bed the moment the first knock at the door sounded in the room. He reached under his pillow and pulled out the dagger with practised ease, whipping it in front of him with eyes ready for anything.

The knock echoed again, along with an almost frantic “Mister Witcher!” and he allowed himself to relax only slightly, realising there seemed to be no visible danger. That relaxation was extremely short-lived however, as the moment he instinctively turned his head to the space next to him in bed and noticed it was empty, that fear rose up in his chest once more like a phoenix from its ashes.

He spun his head around, eyes already having adapted to the darkness of the room, searching wildly. That hand rapped against the thin wood of the door and he snarled, shoving the blankets off and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

The creaking floor felt like ice under his bare feet, but he ignored it, grabbing up his sword leaning by the bedside table and striding to the door. He opened it harshly, and a woman immediately stepped back, gasping a little, hand poised to knock yet again. 

“What?” he snapped, a bite to his voice that would typically have sent anyone running. The woman, who he vaguely recognised as the innkeeper’s wife, thankfully took that as desperation, and quickly set to answering him.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Sir,” she spoke quickly, “but-but I saw your daughter come down the stairs and head outside. I tried to stop her and ask if she was okay, but I think she must be sleepwalking. She didn’t seem responsive at all.”

Geralt’s mind had been whirring since the moment the woman began talking, and by the time she had finished, he had already slammed the door shut. He briskly made his way down the corridor, sword in hand, the woman lingering helplessly still by the door. If he wasn’t so worried, he may have thanked her for the information, but his sole thought was on finding you and ensuring your safety, as it forever had been. The woman had said she’d seen you go outside, so he headed there once he’d gone downstairs.

“Fuck,” he breathed out once the bitter air hit him. His loose hair, tangled from his hours of sleep, blew about his face like a thin curtain as he walked briskly out into the cold, dark night. His sharp eyes began searching, darting this way and that, peering urgently through shadowy trees and along the cobbled paths whose stones dug unforgivably into his feet.

His main concern was that somebody would see a young girl walking alone and vulnerable in the dead of night and view it as a perfect opportunity to grab her up and take her away. It was utterly quiet outside, save for the distant hooting of a barn owl and the snuffling of what was likely a family of foxes nearby, but that of course could never rule out the possibility that the one place a stranger happened to be was also coincidentally where you had ended up.

An irritated and slightly fearful noise wrangled from his throat as he stopped in the middle of a deserted path, twisting in a circle, his palms growing sweaty even in the frigid wind. The loose tunic he wore flapped in the breeze, and he began to feel the first drops of an inevitable rainfall strike his skin.

For the first time in a long time, he felt his heart race abnormally, pounding against his rib cage as he continued to scan his surroundings. Sleepwalking. Never in your life had you sleepwalked, and yet here you were, your first time, and you were scaring him nearly half to his impossible death.

When a quiet cry sliced through the silent air, his head spun around, and his eyes just about made out the sight of someone stood by a tree. Quickly and with all the speed of nature and experience, he ran, feeling his heart skip a beat and yet die down the smallest bit at the same time, likely from relief from realising it was you. He made it to you quickly, dropping his sword to the floor once he was close enough. You clearly looked disoriented, and you were holding your left leg slightly bent at the knee, a hand grasping at the wood of the tree bark beside you. Just like him, you were in your sleeping clothes, though he could see your lips bluing and you were trembling like a leaf.

He slowed when he was a few feet from you, taking in everything. You looked fine, as far as he could tell, apart from the stunned uncertainty obscuring your face. Your eyes were glassy, probably the first of the tears brought on by overpowering confusion even within sleep, and he did not wish for them to get any glassier. He slowed his pace even further, watching you astutely.

Unsurprisingly, you jumped when you sensed someone beside you, and it took a few seconds for you to truly understand who it was, but the moment you did and a wave of realisation washed over your face, Geralt figured it safe enough to move closer. He’d heard somewhere that waking a sleepwalker wasn’t entirely recommended, and for that reason he had been prepared to follow you until you woke yourself, ensuring you didn’t hurt yourself or find yourself in danger. But it seemed you’d moved past the stage of waking up, and he could only thank the gods that he’d made it to you in time for that.

He knelt to the ground—you were short enough to only stand a little higher than him when he was on his knees—and gently grasped your forearms, watching with a slightly creased forehead as you slowly gazed around, attempting to make sense of your surroundings. You were frowning, and he could practically hear your heart racing like a rabbit before you spoke.

“Geralt…” you murmured dazedly. “I-I thought we slept at an inn.” You shivered as a breeze blew past you and he quickly yet cautiously pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly in his hold and rubbing your back. You shuddered almost violently against him, tucking your head under his chin and shutting your eyes as your clouded mind worked away, turning stiff cogs and grinding rusty gears. You grasped onto his shirt, encasing your frozen hands in it to better warm them, not protesting in the least when he shifted to sit back against the tree you’d conveniently woken beside. You lay nested in his lap, a tiny ball of overwhelmed hesitancy, taking in your witcher’s warmth and trying to work out exactly where you were and why you couldn’t remember making the journey there.

“You,” Geralt said, still rubbing your back, “were sleepwalking. And you worried me.”

You opened your eyes, blinking. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” He moved his legs, bending them slightly, and frowned when he saw a small patch of red on his trousers. Peering closer, he could tell it was blood, and he knew it had not come from him. He looked down at you, brushing hair back from your face. “Are you hurt?” he asked, remembering the little cry he’d heard earlier which had alerted him to where you were, and the way you’d been holding your leg up. Before you could even answer, he slid his hand to your ankle and turned it gently. You winced against him, noticing the sharp stone sticking from the sole of your foot just as he did.  

“This is what happens when you go outside without boots on,” he said not at all maliciously, expression softening when he saw your face fall. “I was teasing, Y/N,” he assured you. “But I need you to hold still while I pull this out.”

Your face fell even more at that, and you buried it back into his chest with a pitiful whine. Geralt carded his fingers through your hair as a comfort while he moved you somewhat on his lap, holding your foot at an angle that would likely prove to be uncomfortable soon enough. It was a small stone, and he doubted the wound would require stitches or any further medical assistance than the strip of fabric he’d ripped from the bottom of his shirt to tie around it. The blood on your foot was drying, and the flow seemed to have stopped quickly.

Gently grasping the stone with two fingers, he silently counted to three before tugging hard, pulling it free in a second and garnering no more than a tiny jerk and a quiet mewl of pain from you. He was quick, letting go of you for a mere moment in order to tie the makeshift bandage firmly around your foot, but his arm returned to hold you once more.

More and more frosty drops of rain were falling from the visible storm clouds above, and Geralt knew he’d have to take you inside eventually, especially considering your body—and his, for that matter—wasn’t getting much warmer, but he knew to move you now would only disorient you further.

“I didn’t know I could sleepwalk,” he heard you mumble a second later.

“Anyone can sleepwalk,” he said.

“Did I really walk all the way out here while sleeping?”

“Apparently. A woman came knocking at the door, saying she’d seen you come outside.”

You cuddled up to him. “I feel weird.”

“Let yourself work it out,” he told you lightly. “Your mind’s not used to falling asleep in one place and waking in another.” You sniffled and he sighed, leaning his head back against the tree and praising the little protection it offered the both of you from the wind and the oncoming rainstorm. No doubt it would be a sight to see by anyone who happened to walk outdoors—a man and a girl, both in sleeping clothes and barefoot, looking all but unruly, sitting against an oak tree in the stormy night—and so he was grateful for the fact everyone normal was asleep.

“Sorry for scaring you,” you muttered barely audibly.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he assured you. “Though I still hope you won’t be making a habit of this. Maybe I should tie you to the bed to make sure you don’t wander off, hm?” He glanced down at you, amusement gleaming in his eyes, and you smiled around a yawn.

“That seems a bit much.”

Geralt hummed. “Perhaps a cage,” he suggested airily.

“You’d lock me in a cage?” You drearily opened your eyes to stare up at him accusingly.

“To save myself from being woken in the night and having to run out in the wind and the rain to find you?” He rose an eyebrow. “More likely than you think.” A light giggle left your lips and he smiled, resting his chin on the top of your head. Life with a little companion certainly was a life to be reckoned with. It was never boring, that was for sure. Though of course, you didn’t have to ask to know that he’d follow you to the ends of the earth, even while sleepwalking.

He shook his head as a drop of rain splashed on his nose and peered up at the sky to see more tumbling down from the grey clouds. Sleeping outside more often than not of course meant he—and you, for that matter—was well accustomed to the trials and tribulations of bad weather, but when you’d been wandering outside for who knew how long, was slightly injured, and a warm bed was waiting inside for the both of you, there really was no reason to remain outside longer than necessary.

And so he moved, working past your exhaustedly limp form in order to lift you up and into his arms before he stood to his feet, taking his sword in one hand and holding your with the other. Your own arms wrapped around his neck, and you rested the side of your head against his shoulder, staying as close to the warmth his body still offered as possible.

He walked slowly, his feet twinging a little with each step, but he didn’t find himself overly bothered now he had you in his arms. He turned to look at you, pressing a small kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get you back to bed, little traveller.”

 Witcher Masterpost

[albertasunrise]

Too Late - 1

Masterlist

Summary: You arrived with Steve Murphy in Colombia to assist in the war against Escobar, both of you are partnered with Javier Peña. The tall, dark and handsome DEA agent has a reputation for being Colombia’s Casanova but you soon learn there’s more to him than meets the eye. You realise too late… that you’re in love with him.

Pairings - Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings - Smut, Angst, Blood and Injury

§

‘Fuck.’ You growled as Javier snapped his hips into you, sucking and biting your neck as he fucked you.

You'd let your head fall back against his shoulder as his free hand snaked down your stomach, thick fingers languidly rubbing your clit as his length hit that spot inside you over and over. It didn’t take long for you to cum, screaming his name as he thrust his hips half a dozen more times before filling you with his cum, growling against your skin.

‘Fuck Javi.’ You whined, chest heaving as you turned your head to give him a lazy kiss ‘You should wake me like that every morning.’

‘Happily.’ He replied with a smile, thrusting himself deep inside of you a few more times before he finally pulled out and slipped out of the bedroom.

He returned a few minutes later with a damp cloth that he then handed to you before lighting a cigarette for you both, handing one of them to you when you tossed the soiled fabric into the wash basket across from you.

‘How long do we have till we need to leave?’ You asked before you took a toke of your smoke.

‘We have an hour and a half before we need to head out. Plenty of time if want to shower Caríno.’ He stated as he stubbed his spent cigarette into the ashtray on his bedside table.

You showered as he cooked breakfast, the two of your making the usual small talk as you ate your bacon and eggs and sipped on your coffee. You were both so domesticated, it was easy to be around Javier, to do things like this but you’d sworn to yourself that you wouldn't let yourself get hurt again and with Javier’s reputation... there was a good chance he’d hurt you.

When you'd finished your breakfast you cleared the table and washed the dishes as Javi showered and changed, giving him a warm smile as he emerged from his bedroom clean-shaven and hair still dripping. The knock at his door pulled your attention away from him and when you answered it you were greeted by Steve, the blonde rolling his eyes when he saw you.

‘You two need to figure out whatever the fuck this is!’ He stated as he pointed between the two of you, rolling his eyes again when you shrugged.

‘It’s just sex, Murphy.’ You replied nonchalantly ‘Peña’s the eternal bachelor and I have an itch that he can scratch. Simple as that.’

You didn't notice the hurt that flashed across Javier’s face, the anguish in his eyes at how easily you'd brushed off Steve’s statement. You’d been sleeping together casually for some time now, the arrangement starting after one particularly heavy night out at the local bar with Steve and his wife Connie. You’d opened up about how you’d relished the opportunity to come to Colombia after coming home one day to your, then, fiancé balls deep in your maid of honour. You’d decided then that you were going to swear off love, every relationship you’d ever had, had ended in heartbreak and so you swore to never love again. That first night with Javier had been mind-blowing. He’d made you cum with his mouth and his fingers three times before finally gifting you with what you'd wanted and then he’d brought another two out of you again before you were left limp and sated on his bed. Following that night, it had become a regular thing, almost 3 nights a week you either stayed at his or vice versa, ate food together, had a few drinks and fucked before falling asleep in each other's arms. What you were oblivious to was what was going on with Peña behind closed doors. He no longer slept with anyone but you, no one could compare. He didn’t sleep the nights you were apart, no matter how much whisky he consumed or how many times he fucked his hand to the thoughts of being buried inside you. Javier Peña had fallen for you and he couldn’t stop, every casual fuck killing him a little more each time and leaving him in agony. Steve had caught the look that flickered across his partner's face but chose not to bring it up, he knew that Javier would deny his feelings for you until he was blue in the face. The two of you were as stubborn as each other.

‘Carillo wants us to meet him at base first thing.’ Stated Steve, changing the subject completely as he followed Javi down the stairs towards his Jeep.

‘You reckon La Quica and Poison will be there or?…’

‘Intel says they will be.’ Stated Javier as he opened the driver’s door and hopped inside ‘It’s going to be minimal guys though. Too many men will draw attention to us.’

He fires the plan at you and Murphy as he drives to Carillo’s base of operations, the colonel waiting eagerly for you all as Javier parked up outside. He informed you of the particulars as you kitted yourselves up, hopping then into one of the military vehicles that are waiting patiently to take you to one of Escobar’s labs. The drive wasn't too long, the lab sitting a little way out of Bogota on the outskirts of the jungle. It was a clever place to position a lab, the three provided enough coverage that it was hard to tell from areal photos whether the building was abandoned or not but after a tip from a prostitute that La Quica frequented with, they'd learned the location of this particular lab that they had then scoped for several weeks before organising the raid that was about to take place. As you all hopped out of the vehicles and crept towards the building, you felt your excitement growing that the thought that you might possibly capture two of Escobar's top sicarios that day. It would be a huge blow to Pablo.

‘You and Peña will go in through the back with Trujillo and Garcia, Murphy will enter through the front with me.’ Stated Carillo as you all lined up against the building, guards completely oblivious to your presence.

‘Let’s go.’ Stated Javier as he motioned for you, Trujillo and Garcia to follow him towards the rear of the building.

He crept in slowly, gun raised in front of him, breaths coming out steady and even as he made his way inside. Music was blaring from the lab, masking their presence perfectly and hiding the sound of Javier’s gun going off as a guy walking unwittingly into his path.

‘Upstairs.’ He said as he pointed up and made his way towards the beaten up staircase.

‘Trujillo, you and Garcia take those rooms.’ He ordered as they came to a stop on the landing ‘We’ll take those rooms down there.’ He finished as he motioned to you with his eyes.

Trujillo nodded, ordering Garcia to follow him before you followed Javier down the narrow hallway, buzzing from the adrenaline that pumped through your veins. Peña cleared the first room, stepping carefully towards the next and clearing that one also. He looked at you over his shoulder as he made this way to the final room at the end of the hall, lips parted slightly as he slipped through the open doorway. It happened so fast you barely had enough time to register what had occurred. Javier was knocked to the ground as a loud pop filled the air, pushing you to sprint into the room where you managed to catch sight of La Quica before you heard a bang and you too were knocked off of your feet. As the haze started to clear, you turned your head to see Javi laying there looking at you with a concerned expression plastered across his face. Everything was so fuzzy but after blinking a few times your vision started to clear and you noticed that he was clutching his belly, blood slipping through his fingers as he tried, and failed, to keep the precious liquid inside him.

‘Javi.’ You choked as you tried to push yourself up, letting out a yell as the movement led to a stabbing pain erupting in your skull.

‘Stay still Hermosa.’ He said, holding his free hand out so that he could hold yours.

‘Javi you’re hit.’ You sob, looking at him with sad eyes.

‘I’ll be okay.’ He replied, letting out a wet laugh as blood painted his lips.

‘FUCK.’ Yelled Steve as he sprinted into the room ‘TRUJILLO!.’ He screamed as he dropped to Javier’s side and put pressure on his gushing wound.

A blood-curdling scream spilt from Peña's lips and made your blood run cold, your eyes locked with his as blood started to spill from his mouth like a bath that was overflowing.

‘We need medical support now.’ He barked at someone over you ‘Trujillo, put pressure on her head wound and keep her awake.’

You felt something soft press against the side of your head and you let out a pained cry, momentarily scrunching your eyes shut before opening them again so that you could return your gaze to Javier. His eyes were starting to dull, lids dropping as he gradually lost the fight to remain conscious. You could see it with each gargled breath that he took that he was slipping away. That he was dying.

‘Stay with me Javi.’ Pleaded Steve, his voice breaking as Javier started to choke on the blood that filled his mouth which caused it to spurt from his mouth violently 'Fuck.' Breathed Steve as he cupped his partner's cheek, desperately fighting the tears that pricked his eyes.

‘Please.’ You pleaded as you felt the edges of your vision start to grey ‘Stay with me.’ You whispered before everything went black.

~

The first thing you were aware of was a constant beep. It rang in your ears as you used to pull yourself closer to the surface of consciousness. The next thing you were aware of was a dull ache that soaked your body, leaving you feeling heavy.

‘You with me?’

The voice sounded far away but you knew who it was. Steve. He repeated his question a few moments later only this time it was clearer and you realised that you were able to twitch your fingers in response. Murphy watched as you fought to regain consciousness, your body jolting as different sensations and capabilities returned to you. When you finally cracked open your eyes he breathed a sigh of relief, leaning forward and grabbing your hand as he let out a choked sob.

‘Why you being a cry baby?’ You mumbled with a smirk, not recognising your own voice.

‘Shit… We almost lost you bug.’ He replied, wiping his tears with the back of his free hand as you processed what he told you ‘You were shot in the head.’ He elaborated, sniffing as he sat back in his chair ‘You had a bleed on your brain. You've been in a coma for two weeks.’

‘What happened?’ You asked as you tried to remember the events that brought you here, the memories blurred.

‘We raided the lab.’ He started, leaning forward on his elbows ‘You and Javi were taken by surprise...’

That's when it hit you. You remembered seeing Javier fall, La Quica shooting you before slipping out and then the memory shifted to Javi clutching his stomach as he bled out beside you.

‘Javi!’ You exclaimed as your eyes grew wide ‘Where is he? Is he okay?’ Your voice sped up as your panic rose within, only increasing when you saw the expression on Steve’s face.

‘He uh… He took a bullet to the gut.’ Steve started and his voice wobbled ‘He was in surgery for hours. They did everything they could to save him. He was put into a coma, placed on life support but his injuries were just too severe... He died a few days ago.’ Steve finished, tear-stained, blue orbs locking with yours.

‘No.’ You sob, shaking your head as you tried to process what you’d been told ‘No you're lying.’

‘I was there, Bug.’ He stated ‘I watched as they tried to shock him back to life. I held his hand as they stated the time of death.’ He paused, tears streaming down his cheeks ‘I watched as they loaded his body onto a plane to Texas.’

You scream. The sound made Steve’s blood run cold as he watched your body start to shake and your heart monitor started to blare. The room then suddenly flooded with nurses as they tried to calm you down, muttering in Spanish how it wasn’t good for you to get worked up but you couldn’t listen to them, you could only hear Steve’s voice inside your head.

‘He’s not dead.’ You said as you started to shake your head ‘He wouldn’t leave me. He wouldn’t do that to me.’ You continued, your denial breaking Steve’s heart ‘He wouldn’t leave me.’ You wail ‘He’s not dead. He can’t be.’ You break down then, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as Steve leapt to his feet and pulled you into his arms.

‘He left us both Bug.’ He said as he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head 'I've got you.' He said as he attempted to soothe your cries.

‘He can’t be dead.’ You sob, your stomach aching ‘I didn’t tell him I love him.’ You hiccupped ‘I never got to tell him that I love him.’

~

‘She hasn’t moved from his bed in three days Con.’ Said Steve under his breath as his eyes drifted from you to his wife ‘She barely eats or drinks, she just lays there hugging his shirt. I don’t know what to do.’

‘She’s grieving Steve.’ Said Connie softly ‘We all are but… it hurts her more because she loved him. You need to give her time.’

‘I don’t think she’s processing this.’ He stated, eyes flitting to you quickly ‘She talks to herself but I think she thinks she’s talking to him. She’s scaring me.’

‘She was shot in the head and the man she loved died Steve.’ Growled Connie ‘We all deal with grief differently. You need to give her time to heal and come to terms with her loss.’ She continued as she placed a comforting hand on his arm ‘I’ll go sit with her for a while. You got out and get us something for dinner.’

Steve simply nodded, scrubbing a hand over his tired face before he grabbed Javier’s keys and sprinted out the door, desperate to leave. Connie watched you for a moment, noting that you were talking to yourself but your eyes were staring off into the distance.

‘Hey, Hunny.’ She said softly as she stepped inside ‘You hungry? Can I get you anything?’

‘We’re fine thanks.’

‘We?’

‘Javi and Me.’ You reply plainly, smiling at nothing.

‘Sweetie Javi’s gone. Do you remember?’

Your eyes widened and you looked at Connie, pain seeping into your features and you pulled Javier’s shirt closer into yourself, letting out a pained cry.

‘Right… Yes…’ You mumble ‘He’s gone.’ You paused as you curled up tighter ‘Javi’s gone.’

Connie’s brow furrowed with concern as she perched herself on the bed, placing a friendly hand on your hip as she watched you retreat into yourself again. She knew you were in denial, unable to accept that Javier was no longer around but she also knew that acceptance would come with time. They just had to be patient.

~

You saw him everywhere you looked. Every inch of his apartment or yours was tainted with memories of him. You and the Murphy’s had been allowed to fly to Texas for the funeral. You’d held Chucho as he laid his son to rest, then he’d held you as you dropped to your knees, begging for Javi to come back to you. It was another three weeks before you’d been allowed to return to work, stuck on desk duty until the shrink you’d been assigned decided that you were ready to return to the field. On your first day back you'd spend most of the morning staring at his desk, his typewriter sat perfectly in the middle and surrounded by files, a glass ashtray filled with cigarette butts sat on top of some.

‘We should probably get someone to clear this all up.’ Said Steve as he noticed what you were looking at.

‘No.’ You blurted out ‘No, we can’t.’

‘Bug he’s not coming back.’ Stated Steve ‘Keeping his desk as it is isn’t going to change that.’

‘I know that.’ You spat, venom dripping from every word ‘I get it… He’s dead. I should move on or whatever but I can’t Steve.’ You pause, noticing Murphy’s shocked expression ‘I see him everywhere I look. I roll over and there he is, looking back at me with his warm brown eyes. I feel him with me. His lips on my neck, his hands on my waist. I can’t erase the feel of him and it’s killing me.’

You pull out a cigarette, growling when you struggle to light it before Steve’s appears, the flame igniting the tip before you nodded your head in thanks.

‘He died never knowing how I truly felt.’ You continued, eyes locking with Steve’s ‘That morning. You remember what I said?' Steve shook his head 'I said that he was just scratching an itch but that wasn’t true at all. He owns me… body and soul and I just can’t… I can’t…’

Steve pulls you into his arms as you cry ‘I know you miss him Bug.’ He said softly ‘I miss him too. More than I can put into words but we need to accept that he’s gone. Perhaps you should think about transferring back to the States.’ You looked up at him in shock at this statement ‘You’re never going to be able to move on if you’re surrounded by his memory.’

You know he’s right but it doesn’t stop you from feeling hurt by his suggestion. Were you really that useless now? Had Javier dying rendered you ineffective in the fight against Escobar? You watched as Steve left, two mugs in hand to fetch you and he a top-up and it gave you some time to think. Perhaps you should leave. Afterall... There was nothing left for you now.

~

Chapter 2

[reidandweep]

No Better Outcome

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- I had a request for a Spencer imagine where the reader was held at gun point by the unsub and Spencer had to talk them down. I said it would be finished last week and posted, but to be honest, I hated how it was so I re-wrote the whole thing. I ca’t remember who requested it either.

Word Count- 2336 words

Warnings- Angst, Fluff, mentions of guns and murder.

“What do we know about this guy?”

Y/N glanced at Reid as she continued to drive to their destination. The team had been called to Baltimore on a case the morning before. Four couples had been found brutally murdered in their homes; located across the city. The team had quickly learnt that all the couples were newly engaged and had very healthy, happy relationships.

“Landon Reeves, aged 24. Garcia looked into each of the couples lives and found that Landon works at the local auto repair shop. Each of the males have visited the shop in the past three months, all complaining about the same problem with their cars; faulty breaks. Landon was the one that handled all the bookings.”

Y/N nodded her head as Reid spoke, taking in the information.

“So, we’ve got a 24-year-old, Caucasian, male who has fixed all four male victims’ vehicles in the last 90 days, which they all coincidentally needed the same job doing. Sounds like to me; Landon might have had his eye on them before they entered the shop. There’s too much coincidence between the couples for him not to have.”

Pulling up to a red light, Y/N turned her head to look at Spencer.

“The murders looked disorganised but were actually very meticulous. All the women were mutilated in the bathroom, but their bodies were tucked into the beds. They were covered and their arms crossed; showing signs of remorse. But the male victims were splayed and left out for all to be seen. He hid the women’s modesty and treated the men like animals.”

Honking drew Y/N from her thought process. Swivelling her body to face the wheel once more, she continued to drive.

Spencer comprehended Y/N’s words.

“Maybe he lost a fiancée or girlfriend? Left him for someone else or even cheated.”

Spencer shook his head.

“Usually, if an unsub targets woman that remind him of an unfaithful partner, the attack towards them would be messy, violent, and have shown forms of sexual assault. This hasn’t occurred here. The women were shot clean through the heart. No signs of sexual assault or torture. Garcia already looked into any past relationships of Landon’s. No spousal deaths or even any signs of a partner from his social media. Ever.”

Y/N pulled up on the curb outside their desired location. They had already checked to see if Landon was at work before they travelled to his home. Speaking to his co-workers at the garage, they were more than sure he was their unsub.

“Well, let’s go do our job Dr Reid. All we can do is question for now.”

Spencer chuckled as Y/N opened the SUV door, sliding out and adjusting her appearance; making sure her gun was secure in her holster. Shaking his head, Spencer stepped out and walked to her side.

Walking side by side as they walked up the steps of the house, the pair stopped at the door; Y/N stepped forward and knocked on the wood.

They waited for any sign of an answer. Spencer looked through the window to see a figure walking towards the door.

The pair stood straight as Landon opened the door.

“Landon Reeves?”

“Speaking?”

Y/N glanced at Spencer as he spoke.

“I’m Dr Spencer Reid and this is SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N. Were from the FBI. We just wanted to ask you some questions.

Landon begun to shift uncomfortably in his stance.

“About what?”

Y/N stepped slightly as she spoke, noticing the increased edge of his tone of voice.

“We just want to ask about a few of your customers. Of course, only if it isn’t a waste of your time.”

Landon stood silently for a while before he allowed them into the house.

Insisting Y/N to go first Spencer kept his eye on Landon, just in case he tried to run for it as they walked inside. He didn’t.

Shutting the door behind Spencer, Landon ushered them into the living room; offering them to take a seat on his sofa.

He gave of waves of discomfort. Fidgeting with his hands, biting his lip, and avoiding eye contact. He was guilty of something. But murder? Y/N wasn’t how sure. Something would have had to make him snap.

Y/N allowed Spencer to take the lead in questioning as she discreetly surveyed the room.

“Mr Reeves, on a weekly basis, how many customers do you have come into the workshop?”

Landon shrugged his shoulders.

“It depends. Some weeks are better than others.”

Spencer nodded his head.

“On average, according to the week, how many cars do you repair which the fault concerns the brakes?”

Landon shuffled in his chair as he uncrossed and re-crossed his arms.

“Only about one or two. We mostly get broken taillight or problem with the exhaust.”

Y/N’s eyes caught the pictures on the fireplace as she pretended to write down Landon’s answers. She knew Spencer would remember what he said word for word, so she had no worry but to focus on surveying the area for any information that could help.

Above the mantel piece sat an array of pictures showing Landon with multiple different people. Pulling out her phone, Y/N texted Garcia requesting details on Landon’s family. Not more than two minutes later, she got a reply.

From the information Garcia found, it seemed Landon had a good family. No problems concerning abuse, abandonment, gambling, nothing. But the description of the family didn’t coincide with two pictures. Landon and his family were all brunette. But he had two pictures on the mantle of him and a young blonde woman; who looked eerily like the victims.

“What does me fixing a few brakes and taillights have to do with the FBI?”

Y/N looked up at Landon at the sound of his agitated question.

Spencer went to answer his question, but before he could, Y/N interrupted the young genius.

“How long have you and your girlfriend been together? You’re a very cute couple.”

Landon looked in the direction that Y/N was pointing. His body became tense for a short moment; his hands clenching in fists. Spencer noticed the change in his demeanour.

“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just best friends.”

Y/N nodded her head.

“What’s her name?”

Landon licked his lips as his nerves spiked.

“Celeste.”

“Well, I think you and Celeste would make a cute couple. You should ask her out?”

Y/N walked to stand slightly closer to Landon to gage his reaction.

Landon continued to tense up as Y/N carried on talking and walking closer.

“Or is she already taken? Because she looks an awful lot like three women who have been murdered in the following months. All whom were customers of yours.”

Spencer went to step forward.

“Y/N-“

“Does she not call you back anymore Landon? Cancels your plans? Or doesn’t even bother to make them herself?”

“Shut up.”

Y/N took another step closer.

“Is it because she doesn’t love you back?”

Before another step could be taken, Landon suddenly pulled a gun out from the cushion of his sofa, pointing it towards Y/N.

Spencer quickly drew his gun, aiming it at Landon. He could tell by the look on Y/N’s face that she knew he had a gun the whole time.

“Landon put the gun down.”

Through his earpiece, her heard Hotch’s voice.

“Reid, we’re on our way. Y/N’s mobile is called through to Garcia. We can hear everything, so stay calm.”

Spencer kept his focus on Landon in front of him.

“Landon put the gun down and we can talk, okay? She didn’t mean what she said.”

“Yes, she did!”

Y/N flinched at the sudden raised voice from the unsub. She knew the risk when she began to ask him questions. But there had been lives lost, and she did not want to walk away from this suspect, and another life be taken. She would risk herself always. Spencer knew this and he hated that she would always risk herself to save everyone else.

Spencer glanced at Y/N as he saw her flinch. Looking back at Landon, he saw the boys hand shaking. Keeping his own arm locked and in position, Spencer tried to defuse the situation.

“I know how it feel. To be love someone for so long and so deeply that it rips you apart to know they don’t feel the same way back.”

Landon looked away from Y/N and towards Spencer; tears of frustration falling down his face.

“But just because they don’t love you back the same way doesn’t mean they don’t care.”

Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from Spencer as he spoke.

Landon shook his head, the gun shaking in his grasp, as he repositions it in his sweaty grip.

“She was the best thing about this place. Everyone said we were meant to be together. Everyone! But she left with him. Moved to a whole different fucking state after knowing him for 2 months. We’ve known each other for 14 years. I’ve loved her for 14 years and she left me for someone she’s known for 2 months!”

Reid licked his lips, preparing himself for what he was about to say. He knew this could change things between him and Y/N, but he couldn’t risk the thought of her getting hurt. Or even worse, dying.

“I was 25 when I met her. I’ve been in love with her for over ten years. Watching her with other men, listening to her date stories, being there to help mend her broken heart, and so much more. We’ve been side by side nearly every day. Spending holidays together and birthdays, even when we didn’t need to. I thought for a while she liked me back. But I couldn’t put her through all the issues and problems that I come with.”

Y/N looked at Spencer in disbelief.

“I knew I loved her approximately four months after I had known her. I accepted she didn’t love me back after two years of hoping that she did.”

Spencer to a cautious step towards Landon; watching as the boy’s grip on the gun loosened as he recognised himself in Spencer’s story.

“But I would rather have her in my life every day, in any other way, than to not have her there at all. Because I would miss having someone to watch Doctor Who with when we both can’t sleep. I would miss the lunch trips to the food trucks when work was quiet. I would miss the good morning texts and goodnight messages. I would miss so much that I get in a friendship, that I wouldn’t in strangers of unreciprocated feelings.”

Spencer took another step forward.

“You choose, Landon. But, if you drop your weapon, and let us take you in, Celeste will still see you as her best friend; who she loves dearly.”

Landon looked at Spencer with tears streaming down his cheeks; his lower lip wobbling. Slowly, he lowered his gun, letting Spencer take it from his hands.

Passing the gun behind him, Spencer focused on cuffing Landon as Y/N quietly stepped forward and grabbed the gun.

Just as he clicked the cuffs shut, the rest of the team walked through the door.

Hotch and Luke moved to take Landon from Spencer, as JJ and Tara moved to consult Y/N. Checking her over for any injuries, the women asked if she was okay. Y/N reassured the pair, but she could not waver her stare from Spencer as he watched Landon be escorted out and into the police vehicle.

Sensing the looming conversation, the team all walked outside, leaving Y/N and Spencer in the house alone.

Silence befell upon them.

Y/N walked towards Spencer, placing a hand on his shoulder as she spoke.

“Spencer I”

Spencer swivelled around in her grip.

Before Y/N could say anymore, Spencer pulled Y/N into a tight embrace. Quickly interlocking her arms around his neck, the pair basked in each other’s presence. Spencer was the first to pull apart.

“Never put yourself in a situation like that again. You realised he had a weapon and still antagonised him. What would you have done if he had fired? What do you think I would…”

Before Spencer could finish berating Y/N, she grabbed his face between her hands and pulled his lips against her own. Moving her hands to tangle into his hair, Y/N pushed her body flush against Spencer, gasping as his hands instantly moved to grip her hips. Pulling her impossibly closer, Spencer’s mouth moved against Y/N’s feverishly.

The pair slowly pulled apart as they both filled their lungs back with air. Spencer couldn’t help but blush under Y/N’s gaze.

Y/N giggled at the rising pink in his cheeks. Placing a quick peck on his lips, Y/N looked Spencer in the eyes.

“I love you Spence. I have for a really long time. That’s why those other guys never worked out because I was trying to get over you, and I couldn’t.”

Spencer couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss her again.

Once again pulling apart, Spencer rested his head against her own, and allowed for the smile to take over his face.

“I love you too. But please stop putting your life in danger.”

Y/N leaned back and laughed at Spencer’s words.

Glancing out the window, she could see the team almost ready to leave. Y/N pulled herself from Spencer’s embrace.

“Unfortunately, with the job we have, that’s one promise I can’t make.”

Spencer rolled his eyes with a smirk.

Y/N placed her hand in Spencer’s, interlocking the digits.

“Come on, Dr Reid. We got a case to officially close.”

The pair walked out the house hand in hand, as they walked towards their team. Giving Spencer’s hand a squeeze, she let his hand go and she continued to speak to Hotch and Luke, about the details of what occurred.

Spencer stood by her side, listening to her words and interjected when needed. While it wasn’t the exact outcome they expected the case to end with, it sure could not have ended any better.

A/N- I hope you enjoy. I have a few ideas that I’m going to write. One in particular is going to be a more personal one so stay tuned.

Taglist- @danielleslegacy​

[elizabeethan]

Watch the Sunlight Fade: 10 / 17

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: Don’t come for me. I was just way too excited, and my patience is wearing this. This is definitely one of my favorite chapters!!!! Hope you like it :) 

Warnings for some violence read: murder.

As always, you can message me if you want more information!

Rated M

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Read on Ao3

He couldn’t get out of the bloody bar fast enough. Watching her walk out after what appeared to be a difficult conversation with Neal was hard enough, especially with his apparent complete lack of understanding of her emotional state at any given time. The fact that he couldn’t tell how upset she was is troubling. But the fact that Killian couldn’t follow her out immediately and take her in his arms to hold her until whatever Neal said to upset her melted away feels impossible. 

 By the time he got outside, weaving through the crowd and pushing through the doors as she had, she was long gone. He’s not entirely surprised that she’s walking home, but it was only about five minutes between them leaving, and as he speeds down the quiet streets searching for her, she’s nowhere to be found. 

 It isn’t until he reaches their building and parks his bike that he notices her, catching her cowering in the lobby as he assumes the sound of his bike startled her. He feels bad about it, but puts the thoughts out of his mind as he sets the kickstand in place and rushes towards the front doors. When he swings them open and forces his way inside with too much enthusiasm, she gasps. 

 “Swan,” he breathes when he sees her, rushing to stand in front of her and placing his hands on her upper arms. “It’s alright.” 

 He watches her face shifting quickly, moving from relief to fear to anger to heartbreak at a nearly imperceptible pace. When tears break over her eyes and rush down her cheeks, dragging with them streaks of black mascara, he reaches for her and she pulls away. “Did you know?” she asks, her voice shaking and her bottom lip pouting out before she bites it into her mouth. 

“Know what, love?” he asks, and with his words, he sees anger taking over. 

 “Don’t play dumb,” she insists, shoving past him and reaching for the door before throwing herself out into the chilly evening air. 

 “Emma… Emma!” He hurries behind her, grabbing her by the elbow and regretting it when she flinches away and turns towards him, giving him a look of angry disgust. He never wants to make her flinch from his touch. “Tell me what he said.” 

 “Like you don’t know!” she accuses. “Is this why you were acting weird when Gold came in the other day? You figured it out and didn’t tell me.” 

 “Emma…” 

 He’s angry with himself, for being too afraid to tell her what he’d suspected. She’s right, of course; he had figured it out when Gold mentioned her being important for the club’s future. But his fear that it had been true, that perhaps Neal had succeeded in his goal to impregnate her without her even having a clue, was too overwhelming. He’s angry with Neal, too, but he shouldn’t expect much from him. He couldn't even begin to imagine being the one to tell her something so horrific and seeing the look on her face when he did. 

 But the look on her face now, when she’s realized his betrayal, is far worse than anything he could have conjured in his mind. 

 She shakes her head and lets out a soft, pained sob before turning away from him again and starting down the street. With her back turned towards him, he notices her backpack and panic sets in. She can’t run. 

 “Swan, please. Just wait. Please!”

 “No! I trusted you, Killian! I told you how desperate I was to know what he had planned so that I could prepare for it. And then you figured it out and you didn’t tell me!” She pushes him against his chest and he steps back as she lets out another sob. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me?!” 

 “I’m sorry,” he nearly whispers, his voice seeming too loud against the still night. She shakes her head again and laughs, although he’s certain she sees no humor in this situation. “Love, I'm so sorry. I should have told you; I know you’re strong enough to know the truth and I should’ve seen that. I wasn’t strong enough to tell you.”

 “But I’m not, though,” she cries, shaking her head and pushing tears away from her cheeks. “I can’t handle this.” 

 “Emma, please,” he begs again, taking her hand in his carefully and, when she lets him, pulling her towards the alley beside their building. He can’t risk them being seen by a passerby so he hides them in the cover of darkness. “Please, love, please stay. You can survive anything, I promise you. But if you leave, they’ll hunt you down. If we run now, they’ll find us and kill us.” 

 With another sniffle, she leans back against the brick wall of their building in defeat. He takes a bold step forward so that he’s practically embracing her, leaning his hands against the wall behind her in an attempt to hold her together somehow, and she drops her head down against his chest with another sob. “Killian,” she cries, and he feels her breaking down as she wraps her arms around his waist. “If I’m pregnant, I’ll--” 

 “Hush, love,” he quiets as soothingly as he can. His hand moves from the wall to the back of her head, cradling her to his chest and stroking along her scalp as the other presses against her back. “Just try and relax, Emma. We’ll worry about that soon, but for now, you’ve got to try and calm down.” 

 “I can’t do it. I can’t.” 

 There’s nothing he can say, and he knows it. Anything he says will sound like he’s making it up to make her feel better. She’s completely right in assuming that this is bad. So he simply holds her, continues to try to calm her labored breathing as she breaks down in his arms once more and again at the fault of a man who claims to love her. 

 “What did you mean?” she asks after a few moments, once her breathing has evened slightly. “When you said they’d kill us?” 

 He pulls away from her just slightly and uses his thumbs to brush the tears off of her cheeks and the hair out of her eyes. “Well, they’re… a rather violent and vengeful bunch, love.” 

 “No,” she shakes her head, letting it drop to the side slightly into his palm. “I mean… you’re acting like… Like you’d come.” 

 “Of course I would,” he answers immediately without a thought to the contrary. The idea that he would let her go off on her own is too absurd to even consider. “I could never leave you. I could never let you go through this on your own. If you’ll have me, I’ll always fight to be with you, and that includes running away with you even though it’s a bloody daft idea.” 

 “Killian,” she whispers, looking into his eyes so that he can see every facet of her. She shows him the deepest and darkest corners of her soul in her eyes and he loves every inch of her. 

 “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I figured it out and I should’ve told you then, but I was scared.”

 “Scared of what?” 

 “Scared for you. I’m terrified of what they’re doing to you, love. Every day I see the light fade from your eyes and it breaks me. I was too scared and selfish to be the one to make it fade even more by telling you.”

 She shakes her head, but she maintains her strong and meaningful stare into his eyes. “You're the only one who cares. I can’t wrap my head around it.” 

 “Of course I care,” he whispers. 

 “Why?” 

 He lets his mouth hang open for a moment too long, drawing his brows close together in thought as he brushes his thumbs beneath her eyes again. “Don’t you know, Emma?” he asks, genuinely surprised that she doesn’t. “It’s… you. It’s because I love you.” 

 Her gaze conveys so much to him, and it almost breaks his heart. She tells him she’s in disbelief, that she doesn’t believe she’s worthy of having someone love her, without speaking. In silence, she tells him that she’s overwhelmed, but her small, almost imperceptible smile tells him that at least she isn’t angry. “You do?” she asks in doubt.

 “Yes,” he whispers. “I love you. I’ll do anything to get you out of this, Emma. I promise you, I’ll get you away from him. But we can’t run now, Swan. It’s far too dangerous to run now without a plan of where or how to go.” 

 She shakes her head, seemingly barely able to comprehend his words, and repeats, “you love me?” 

 “Aye,” he smiles softly. “Is it so hard to believe?” 

 “No, I-- I’m surprised because I do believe you. I’ve never heard those words before and actually believed them.” 

 He can’t seem to catch his breath, not while she moves her head just slightly enough to bump her nose against his, her lips so close to his that he can taste the fruity chapstick she applied earlier. He tells her, “I'll never stop working to ensure that you believe me, then,” and is met with an audible gasp, her fingers finding the lapels of his jacket and pulling him to close the small gap between them. 

 The kiss they share is fire, a white hot blaze burning between them as he moves his hands from her cheeks and down to her neck, cradling her face to his and refusing to let her go. He can’t imagine ever being apart from her now. Her own grip leaves his jacket and trails to the back of his head, lacing her fingers through his hair as she parts her lips against his. It’s an invitation, one he accepts as he slides his tongue along the soft skin of her bottom lip and then along the inside of her top. 

 His rings tangle in her hair and tug slightly, making her gasp and tighten her own grip on him. He almost worries that he’s hurt her, but she refuses to break away from him and lets out the softest moan when he lets one hand slide down to her waist and pull her even closer to him. He doesn’t know if he’s making up the way her hips press firmly against his, but he hopes to whatever god might be listening that he isn’t. 

 “Emma,” he whispers when they finally stop for a breath, her pants coming out forcefully and her lips parting tantalizingly, making him want nothing more than to capture them in his again. “My love--”

 “Well, what have we here?”

 ~~~~

 The way things shift gives her whiplash. 

 She can’t keep up with the back and forth, one moment feeling terrified of the direction her life is headed, the next feeling more loved than she ever has before, and the next feeling as though her world is crashing around them. They couldn’t have been seen. They only just found one another, she only just learned the truth of how he felt for her. It can’t end so soon after it began. 

 Killian loves her. In all her years, after countless betrayal and heartbreak, she never thought she would find herself in a position like this. She never thought a person could tell her that they love her and that she would believe them. After Neal, after his farce and his attempts at coercing her by offering love as a bargaining chip, she thought herself completely closed off to love, never again willing to accept it. 

 But Killian loves her. And she knows that he’s being truthful when he tells her so. 

 She loves him, too. It’s a fact she’s been slowly but surely coming to terms with over the last few weeks and months, and hearing his confession will only make it easier for her to tell him so. But they won’t ever get the chance. 

 They’ve been caught. It’s over before it can hardly begin. 

 “Rufio,” she hears him growl, stepping to the side and standing in front of her, blocking her view of the man who is surely about to ruin everything for her. 

 “Just imagine the look on Neal’s face when I tell him I caught his girlfriend making out with Hook.” 

 “Mate--” She steps away, anxiously holding her hands up in surrender, ready to beg this man to leave them be. “Emma--”

 “Think he and Peter will give me a front row seat to watch the two of you getting slaughtered?” 

 She tries to stop him. She takes another step forward. “You can’t--” 

 “Emma! Come back.”

 “I can, and I will. In fact, maybe some photographic evidence will help.”

 The bright light of his camera flash blinds her, and she realizes that, even though they aren't in each other’s arms anymore, his picture of the two of them standing in a dark alley together will be incriminating enough. “To think, Cassidy’s whore is actually in bed with someone else.” 

 “Don’t you dare speak of her that way.” His voice sends chills down her spine, and she recalls what he’d told her once about his violent past. 

 “Or what, you’ll gut me like a fish? I don’t see your precious hook anywhere,” the man goads. He laughs before he says, “Don’t worry. Peter and Neal will probably give you the same treatment you gave to all of our rivals. Or maybe Neal’ll smash you over the head like he did your brother.” 

 “Shut up,” he warns. She sees Killian reaching behind himself, and when she looks down, he’s lifting his shirt and exposing a small gun that she didn’t know was resting at his hip. Her eyes widen and she gasps softly. 

 “As for the whore, I’m sure they’ll find an appropriate punishment. Maybe we'll all get to see her work with your other girlfriend after all. A whore like that, I’m sure she’s down for a couple of group scenes, and I doubt any of the guys will turn down that opportunity.” 

 “I’m warning you,” he says, his hand hovering over the gun but not yet gripping it. “If you go now-- if you stay silent-- I won’t kill you.” 

 He laughs condescendingly, stepping forward. “Honestly, even if they don’t go in that direction, I think I'll take the liberty myself. She’s whore enough to deserve it.”

 Rufio lunges for her quickly, Killian’s shouts breaking through the darkness as her back is pressed against the brick wall. She chokes out a cry as one hand grips her throat and his other yanks at the waist of her pants. 

 The oppressive nature of his touch is interrupted as Killian yanks him away from her before his hands can wander and throws him to the ground. “Get the fuck away from her,” Killian growls, aiming his gun right at her attacker’s head. 

 “Why, so you can have a go at her?” She watches Rufio shift, his hands reaching behind himself until she hears the cock of his own gun. “I know you want a taste of that pret--”

 His words and movements are cut off by a loud crack echoing through the air, nearly deafening her and stunning her to a state of violent rigidity. She can’t move, her muscles tense and nearly painful as she stands behind Killian’s broad form, refusing to look beyond him and meet what she knows will be lying on the ground. 

 The silence is deafening, her ears ringing and no other sound perceptible until she hears him say, “Fuck.”

 “Killian,” she breathes through a whisper. She places her hand on his shoulder and jumps when he does, her eyes wide and her hands shaking. 

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says again, tossing his gun to the ground with a crash and thrusting his hands into his hair. “Fuck!” 

 “Killian,” she tries again, a bit louder this time, and her voice sounds foreign as her ears continue to ring. “Killian!” she tries again when he doesn't answer. He turns to her suddenly, his eyes wide and startled, and she sees tears leaking from the corners. 

 “Emma, I-- I didn’t mean to.” 

 “It’s okay,” she tries to promise, but he shakes his head and starts pacing, walking in circles around her. 

 “Fuck, I-- I promised I wouldn’t. I said I won't do that anymore after Liam-- and then you-- but he--” 

 “Stop,” she tries, holding her hands in front of herself and dying to grab onto his own. “Please, just… Killian…” 

 He drops to the ground, sitting on his feet and resting his elbows on his knees, dropping his face to his hands. “Emma,” he mumbles into his palms, and before he can say anything more, she hears a sob breaking out of his throat. “Fuck, Emma--” 

 “It’s okay,” she says again, squatting to his level and putting her hands on his shoulders. “Killian, he would’ve told.” 

 “He threatened you. He attacked you-- he said he would… He pointed his gun at you.” 

 “I know,” she whispered. “He would’ve told Neal.” 

 “No,” he insists, finally looking up at her, and she’s met with such painful desperation in his tearful eyes that she can’t hold back her own tears. “He called you… the things he said he would do to you… he grabbed you. I couldn’t take it, Emma. When he pulled out his gun, I snapped. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

 “We didn’t have a choice, Killian. He would’ve told and we would’ve… he’s right. Neal and Peter would’ve killed you. And who knows what they would’ve done to me.” 

 She takes his face in her hands just as he had done for her mere moments ago. Things have changed so quickly. They went from anger to bliss to fear, and she has whiplash. She can’t keep up. All she wants is the joy that came from being with Killian. Kissing him and being in his arms let her fears melt away, and now that she’s had a moment lacking in terror, she wonders if she’ll survive long enough to feel that way again. She doubts it.

 “We have to clean this up,” she murmurs, her nose inches from his. 

 “We…?” he asks slowly, and although he previously refused to meet her eyes, unable to through his shock, he does now. All she sees is clarity and truth. 

 “Yes, we. We have to move… him. And then we have to go upstairs and make a plan, because I can’t stand to spend another day here.” 

 “Emma…” he starts, but she feels her own sense of urgency creeping up on her and she shakes her head.

 “We have to go,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to his lips if only to prove to him that she isn’t going anywhere. He did this, and although it wasn’t right, he did it for her. He did it to protect her, whereas Neal threw knives at her for sport. Killian loves her. Neal never has. 

 They stand together, Killian swaying slightly in shock when he sees what he’s done to Rufio. She takes his hand in hers and squeezes it, looking up at him and nodding in a silent vow that she’s here with him. He did this for her, and she’ll help him out of it. They find his phone and delete the photo he took of them. She takes his feet and Killian takes his hands, and together they hoist him over the side of the dumpster and let the top slam shut. 

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