#he can't tell you with his words !!!!!! so he just has to show you !!!!!!!

[httpwintersoldier]

『sweet little thing p.2 | b. barnes x reader』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's real long okay, it even has a third part! summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 1 』

fluff ; angst ; smut

"I don't think the text was for me, darlin', but for the record, it looks good."

Your widened eyes stared at the text until the screen of your phone locked again due to lack of activity.

You couldn't believe you had been so stupid as to send without checking the contact beforehand! You cursed your slippery fingers, and the fact that their names started with "J". Thankfully you didn't mention any names in the text, or else you'd probably have to drop out and move elsewhere...

Once the embarrassment had washed away ever so slightly, you let his words sink in - "but for the record, it looks good". You gripped your skirt and pressed your thighs together as you imagined the man leaning closely and whispering that in your ear, telling you just how good you looked.

Another dilemma popped into your mind - now that he knew you thought it was slutty, should you really go out in it!? On one hand, Bucky told you it looked good, but on the other you'd basically admitted to knowing too much showed in that outfit...

The sound of a car honking outside broke you from your trance, and you walked over to your bedroom's window to find your ride already waiting for you. You muttered a small "fuck" under your breath gathered all of your things and stuffed them in a bag before taking one last look at the mirror.

"Oh, whatever, can't get worse than it already is." You said to yourself, grabbed a large jersey and threw it on top of the cheerleader outfit you decided to wear.

You sprayed some perfume and left the house, with your heart wanting to find Bucky right away, and your mind wanting him to stay as far as possible.

You all rode in the same car in direction to Andy's house, which meant that at least you wouldn't be alone with Bucky yet again - that alone calmed you down quite a bit. The ride was loud and full of music, but you couldn't stop thinking about your little (big) mistake.

Your friends noticed, but as far as they were aware, you had a thing for Andy, so they just brushed it off as being nervous to be around him or something of the sort.

Fortunately, Andy was the one opening the door this time, and he greeted everyone with a big, adorable smile that would have made you fall to your knees just a couple weeks ago.

"Guys, I need your help carrying the beer cases, the ice and the thermal boxes. Y/N can you and Jas go to the garage and bring the boxes? There's four of them, they're empty so you should be alright bringing two each."

You and the other girl nodded, following his instructions as to how to get to the garage. Once you got there, however, the boxes were nowhere to be seen.

"Can you go ask him where they are, Jas? I'll keep looking."

Your friend nodded and turned around, leaving you alone to look for the boxes by yourself. You tried not to make too much of a mess while searching for them, but you had looked as hard as possible without moving anything, and yet you had no luck finding what you were looking for.

"What happened to that little number I saw?"

You jumped and shrieked at the deep voice behind you. When you turned around you saw those steel blue eyes looking down at you, with a little knowing smile.

There was no point in playing dumb, you both knew what he was talking about. His eyes flew down to your hands that played with the hem of your jersey.

You felt so small under his gaze... You had never felt like this with any other guy - sure, you had been shy before, but when it came to Bucky it was like the words were caught on your throat and your whole body caught on fire. Maybe it was because he was older, maybe it was the confidence and power in the way he conducted himself - the image of a man who wasn't, for once, all bark and no bite.

He stepped forward, reaching right beside you to claim the beer he had left open on the counter that you were leaning against.

"Decided against my advice?" He took a swing of his beer, the playful, devilish smile on his face spreading wider "Andy would've liked it."

He was teasing you. He knew you were embarrassed and he was using it against you, for amusement.

"Why? Did you like it?"

The both of you were shocked at the words that left your lips - you didn't know where those words came from and Mr. Barnes wasn't waiting for something so bold to come out of you.

He chuckled and his eyes suddenly seemed to be darker, but that darkness wasn't the lack of emotion you had seen that day at the store, it was a different type... there was something sensual about his gaze rather.

"Maybe I did."

The two of you heard footsteps heading towards you. Bucky stepped away from you and faced the door just as your friend came in.

"Andy said that his dad already- oh, hello Mr. Barnes!"

"Hi there. Can I help you?" He asked Jas.

Bucky acted as if nothing had happened, as if he and you had just been having a casual conversation, as if the air was thick and tense from the sexual tension burning between your bodies.

"Andy told me and Y/N to fetch the thermal boxes, but he didn't know you had brought them out already." She explained.

"I see. Well, have fun girls." He said, looking between you and her, as you walked towards the door to leave with your friend.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your mind, a little bit of revenge for what he had just done to you. You needed to act fast, so thinking twice about the idea was out of the question, you just... did it.

"Aren't you going to watch the game, Mr. Barnes?" You asked teasingly, turning back around to face him.

Bucky scoffed, knowing exactly what you were doing calling him 'Mr. Barnes'.

"Might stop by and watch it, why sweetheart?" The man asked, with a curious look, taking another sip of his beer, something he did often to hide his smirk.

You took off the jersey you were wearing over your outfit, revealing the cheerleader getup you had just talked about, and handed him the item of clothing.

"You don't have anything to support the team! I can lend you my jersey." You said, your voice honest and innocent, as if you didn't know exactly what your words and actions meant, as if there wasn't a second meaning to what you did.

Bucky wasn't exactly subtle in the way he looked at you. His eyes were eating you up, from top to bottom, slowly taking in the view in the flesh. Eventually, he reached for the jersey and took it.

"Thanks, sweetheart, I'll make sure to give it to you when the game is over."

You mumbled a "don't mention it" and walked back into the house with your friend, so you could help everyone set up for the game.

"Dude, his dad is a real DILF." Jas whispered as you two made it to the front porch.

"I know, right?" You smugly agreed.

Whistles and compliments echoed in the room when you pulled up with the cheerleader outfit after ditching the jersey. Andy's eyes in particular stayed the longest on your body, and you felt a little guilty for nor caring about what he thought - the feedback that you truly wanted had already been received.

Bucky had joined the group not long after the game started, and you didn't miss the way his eyes stole glances at you whenever possible.

The man himself didn't know what was wrong with him. He was nearly twice your age, he could be your dad, it was a very possible scenario since his actual kid was your classmate, but for some reason, ever since you had walked into his house with that pretty little skirt and those big, shy eyes, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about you.

He knew he wasn't being subtle when eating you up with his eyes, but Bucky wanted you to know, to see what you did to him.

Both of you were aware of the painfully tense and erotic situation, as you'd spread your legs and cross them more often than not, giving Bucky a good view or your exposed skin, making him yearn for more.

"Shit, we need more chips." One of the guys complained.

"I can get them." You offered, since you weren't really interested in the game, and stood up, taking the two empty bowls with you.

It seemed to be impossible to ever be in that house without being left alone with James Barnes, but that time it wasn't accidental at all. As you were opening the chips and dumping them on one of the bowls, footsteps echoed behind you.

Suddenly, Bucky placed his hands on your waist and flipped you around, pressing you against the counter and trapping you between the furniture and his body.

"What are you doing, darlin'?" He asked, looking straight into your widened eyes.

"I-I'm refilling the chips..." You responded, pointing at the bowl behind you with your thumb.

"Fuck the chips, you know exactly what I mean, pretty girl." The man said, cutting right through your act, as he gripped your waist tightly and pulled you to him.

One of the corners of your lips twitched upwards, discarding the innocent façade.

"I'm doing just what you are doing."

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N."

The way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine, it rolled off of his tongue in a manner that couldn't be described in any way other than sensual.

"And you aren't?"

He chuckled, licked his lips slowly and then brushed his hair back with his hand, out of frustration. Your naive side had him going insane with desperation, but your bold side had the man wishing to fuck the brat out of you.

"You know what?" He said, taking his hand and softly placing the pads of his fingers right above your knee "I'd love to bend you over this counter and fuck you with this little skirt still on."

His hand trailed up your leg, slowly lifting your bottoms, revealing your white panties with a pink bow in the front. Bucky smirked and chuckled, a small patch of wetness was clearly visible.

"But?..." You questioned, teasing him as you slid one of your thighs between his legs.

"Y/N! How are those chips coming along, dude?" One of the boys yelled from the living room, snapping the two of you into reality.

"Yeah- coming! One second." You responded.

"I guess we'll have to finish this later, Sergeant."

You didn't give him time to respond, as you grabbed the two bowls and walked back into the living room, the wet spot between your legs now larger than ever before, seemingly.

What Bucky was feeling was wrong. He stood there in the kitchen, thinking about you, thinking about how he towered over you and how you looked at him with those eyes that switched back and forth from innocent to fierce, to tease him, to lure him even further.

His pants were tight and his head was filled with thoughts of your body, leaving over and pressing against every surface of that house, with him inside of you.

It was torture, he couldn't handle it anymore, and he couldn't go back into the living room with such and obvious problem - and with the source of the problem sitting so close.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Mr. Barnes going up the stairs, with a serious face and a quick pace. No one else seemed to notice, however, as they were too focused on the game.

"I'm going to the bathroom, anyone need anything from the kitchen?" You lied, looking for an excuse to leave the room as quickly as possible without being suspicious.

You had just come back from the kitchen with the chips, so everyone shook their head or mumbled a "no", so you stood up and followed up the stairs, looking out for any noise to find out which door Bucky had gone into.

As you walked down the hallway, you could hear faint grunts that grew closer with each step. Eventually you found the door of what you assumed was his bedroom, and your whole body froze. There was only one door between you, and the thing that you had fantasized for so long.

"Fuck..." You heard him groan from the inside.

Your hand grabbed the doorknob and slowly turned it, as the heat between your legs was too much to bear. You opened the door, just enough to be able to see him sitting on the bed, back against the wall and head leaning back, as his hand stroked his cock.

"Are you enjoying the show?" He asked, continuously jerking his shaft as he lowered his head and looked straight at you, his hair falling beautifully over his face.

Your face was burning up and your heart was racing, but your nerves were nothing compared to the pure hunger and desperation you felt for the man. You stepped into the room, carefully, as if stepping into a wolf's cage, and closed the door behind you.

Bucky watched as you walked over to him, eyes shifting between his hand's movements and his face.

His free hand flew to your hip, slowly guiding you down until you were sitting on his lap, your wet, clothed pussy applying pressure on his cock.

You stared at each other's lips for a very long time. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek and, slowly but surely, brought you closer, until there was no space left between you.

What started out slowly very quickly progressed, and the second your lips connected, his hands were all over your body, gripping you ass and toying with the little skirt he loved so much. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on it ever so often as his tongue got bolder.

The two of you pulled apart, your lips were swollen and your eyes were glazed, obviously displaying how much the two of you needed more.

His eyes fell to your lips and he kissed you softly once more before looking up at your eyes.

"We shouldn't do this..." His mouth said something, but the curious fingers that played with the waistband of your panties told you a completely different story.

"Why?" You asked softly, placing small, wet kisses on his neck, causing him to close his eyes and groan.

"My son... Fuck- Andy likes you." Bucky said finally, gripping you tightly as soon as those words left his mouth, as if he thought you'd slip away at the confession.

You kept on kissing his neck, as that confession didn't faze you - if it was something that you would've been over the moon about just a month ago, it was now irrelevant. Bucky came into your life and took over your mind completely, you felt as if every release would feel subpar, unless he was the one helping you reach it.

"You really wanna stop? Hm?" You asked teasingly, as your hips began grinding against his, your wet panties rubbing on his cock.

The conflict on his face was brief, as he eventually threw his head back and let out a low groan. The male gripped your ass cheeks and flipped the two of you over as he attacked your neck.

His hands expertly slid your underwear down your legs, and the male began kissing down your neck, your chest, and your stomach, until he reached your pussy. Bucky teased you for a second, kissing your inner thighs, but he was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel him.

As his tongue begins licking your cunt and circling your clit, your right hand covers your mouth, while the other grips his hair.

"Aren't you a sweet little thing?..." He whispers, after tasting you.

You almost came at those words, the pure filth of the whole situation leaving you dizzy with pleasure.

The man's cock throbbed against the mattress, but he was too drunk in your taste to let go - Bucky wanted to taste as much of you as possible. His tongue slipped in and out of you as he took a break from teasing your clit, and he didn't stop until your back arched, as Bucky wanted to make you cum with his cock.

Bucky's lips met yours once more, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. That kiss was meant to muffle your sinful sounds as he slipped inside of you and slowly pushed himself fully into you. His girth stretched you out in the most satisfying way, and, somehow, the thing you had fantasized about for so long was even better than you had imagined.

He started out slowly, looking into your eyes as if testing the waters, and picked up the pace when he saw you were comfortable enough. Thankfully the TV was loud enough to drown out the echo from the skin slapping sounds, but they wouldn't drown out much more.

Bucky covered your mouth with his hand as his hips snapped against yours at a feral pace - he wanted to make you scream in a way that you wouldn't be heard.

"Want to be a whore? Hm? Parading yourself in front of me with those pretty little skirts thinking I wasn't gonna fuck the shit out of you?"

Your tits bounced to the rhythm of his thrusts, and you thanked for the hand covering your mouth, allowing you to be as mouthy and as loud as you wanted to.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you looking pretty like this, sweetheart." He said, between pants.

Bucky wouldn't last long, as your ever-tightening walls and the erotic look on your face rendered him weak, but thankfully you were also near your climax - he could tell from the way your back arched slightly more by the second.

"Wanna cum for me, baby?" Bucky questioned, removing his hand so you could answer.

"Y-yeah, please, Sir."

He chuckled and smirked at the nickname that, to your credit, did have a nice ring when you were begging under him.

One of Bucky's hands slid between your bodies and circled your clit, until your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your toes curled. You had to bite your lip harshly, to stop yourself from moaning out Bucky's name. The latter pulled out and buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning and panting as he climaxed, spilling all over your stomach.

Knock, knock.

"Hey dad, have you seen Y/N?"

For a second your face went white and your blood froze - you begged that he didn't open the door, or he would come face to face with a rather unfortunate view. You simply stared at Bucky, trusting that he would come up with something

"Huh?" He said, pretending to be clueless at first, "Oh yeah, she had a bit of an accident." Hinting that you had gotten your period, a clever lie that Andy wouldn't question due to its nature "She was embarrassed and didn't want to tell everyone so I told her to just go home."

"Oh... Okay." Andy's voice seemed sad, and you heard his footsteps dragging on the floor and becoming quieter as he walked away.

Bucky looked into your eyes before pressing a kiss to your jaw.

"Guess you don't gotta go back down... Plenty of time for another round. Or two."

'minors do not interact' banner credit: @cafekitsune

[mocchii-writes]

Hiiii! Could you do a Thanos x reader where the reader has a really shitty ex who’s in the games and is being cruel to her and Thanos just straight up wipes the floor with him?

Bonus points if he also gets him eliminated in the next game haha

In the Storm, I Stay Clear

Paring: Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x fem!reader

Summary: After your ex is unfortunately in the games, but Thanos doesn't hesitate to do you a favor.

Words: uhh a few

Warnings: Swearing, bullying :<

A/n: Grr, I know this is short, but I have a lot of req rn. I'm sorry ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You really thought your day couldn't get any worse. You were practically kidnapped, stripped of your belongings, and thrown into a concrete cage with hundreds of other people. But luck had decided to leave you in the dust, apparently. You had survived the Six-Legged Pentathalon with little to no struggle, though it was totally jarring. You're trying to relax when you hear a chilling sound.

"I didn't know there was a rat problem here. Though I wouldn't put it past this place." It calls. You freeze. Why was your ex here? Your mind flows a tsunami of thoughts through you before you organize them and respond.

"Get lost, I don't want to talk to you." You think it seems direct enough that he'll scoff and leave, but that's really your mistake.

"Why so aggressive? The past is the past! C'mon, ease up!" By now, he's walked around to look at you. You simply continue eating your food, easily ignoring what he says and sniffling a laugh. "Hey!" He snaps, dropping his cocky demeanor. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

You can't catch yourself when you let your guard down for a second. He swipes his hand across your tray, knocking the food down and onto the floor. It rattles with a loud clank that turns eyes to you two. He smirks and looks back at you.

"This isn't over, bitch. Do you think you can just run away from your problems?" He steps closer, lowering his voice as you keep your face stone. "I'll make sure you know what it feels to be hurt." He says. It's a stupid threat. It's much too vague to be taken seriously, and he looks really dumb at this angle. You snicker at him, which is a mistake, apparently.

You hear the gasps before the stinging on your face, but you're not surprised. He winds up to slap you again, but he's jerked by something. You finally lift your head back up to see him, but it's not him you see.

It was Thanos, though that's probably not his name. He had made himself quite popular, and you wouldn't deny the fact he had the face for fame. He's holding your ex by the collar, pulling him to look at his face. He mutters something you can't hear, and swiftly lands a punch straight to his jaw.

Unsurprisingly, your ex stumbles to the ground, rubbing his jaw as he starts to get up. He's stopped, though, by a hard kick to his gut. He groans in pain as Thanos stomps onto his hand. Thanos pulls him back up.

"You clearly never learned how to treat women, no?" He says lowly, the boy shaking his head quickly, muttering apologies. "Don't apologize to me, bitch." Thanos twists your ex's shoulders around and you're face to face with him again, only this time he's pathetic.

"I'm... sorry..." He whispers, looking down at his hands, bruising quickly. This was a sight you would surely never forget. You smile, tilting your head.

"I can't hear you." You coo, laughing at his state as he mutters another louder apology. Thanos throws him back to the ground before fixing his hair and approaching you.

"Senorita, you know I'd never treat you like that if you were mine, yeah?" He says, looking at you with a new tint in his eyes.

"I admire your effort, but you gotta give it a moment." You smile, bringing your hands to his forearms. "Thank you." You say, quieter. You can tell his attitude softens, though you're unsure what shows it. His eyes remain confident, and he nods at you, smiling.

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

Mingle? It sounded simple enough to you, but that's not in practice. You haven't made a lot of friends here, so you'll have to hope for a pity party or a desperate group. You're jerked out of your thoughts by the circular platform you're standing on suddenly begining to spin. Eerily cheerful children's music begins to echo through the area, and a number is called out.

"Five."

Well, that's four too many, as your luck would bring it. Seemingly for your ex, too, as he comes running to you immediately. He's got a busted lip, and he's pleading with you about something, but you're not listening, tracking your eyes to search for people.

You feel a hand on your arm pull you backwards, but your ex has a string hand on your arm. You outstretched your arms, turning to look at the person on your other side. To no surprise, it's Thanos. He has 4 people behind him, and they're all looking at you. You try to run, but your ex is really not letting up his grip. Okay, now you're panicking. You glance to the large red clock.

00:08

You're not going to make it unless something is done about your situation you're frozen in. Lucky for you, a kick is heaved to the chest of your ex, sending him backward as you're dragged away before you can process it. The door is quickly sut behind you, and you turn to Thanos, his hand still holding your wrist.

"Thank you." You whisper. He smirks cockily, but you let it slide. He pulls his hand from your wrist to your hand as you hear gunshots echo. One less problem for you, I guess.

Idk if I like this, but it was pretty fun to write ♡

~🍡🍡

[ebeever]

𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛

[NSFW]

Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Explicit Sexual Content | Please, enjoy

The plan was simple. He had to get the baddie to follow him into a trapped room, without being noticed. You were to decoy to make sure eyes were everywhere but on the desguised hero.

"Fuck!"

Well, the plan was supposed to be simple.

"What the hell happened?" You demand after closing the door to one of the casino's rooms. "You were supposed to get him alone! Why the hell are they searching the building for rats?"

"He didn't want to leave!" He kicks something, you don't care what, and a crash echoes in the room.

"Bullshit," you try to get him to have a normal conversation and explain why the mission failed. "Get him in the room. That was it. He didn't know what was behind those doors, so why wouldn't he want to go?"

"Maybe," he pins you with a glare thrill-worthy. "He was too busy enjoying the fucking show!"

Your mouth drops. "You're blaming me for doing my job?" You throw your arms out, gesturing to the barely-there dress you were asigned to wear. "I was the decoy, of course he would be distracted. What man wouldn't drool over a girl stripping on a stage?"

It was the casino - a hoarding ground for organized crime groups. One in particular caused more trouble than the local authorities could handle, which is how we ended up trying to disable its leader. Distract the crowd. Lock up the boss. It was supposed to be that fucking simple.

"You weren't suppose to take off your fucking dress, y/n," his pacing becomes even more recklace, leaving little unbroken in the room. His voice is deep, rushed, and almost raspy.

"Distract. Those were my instructions. I was suppose to distract the crowd."

"Yeah, and not me!" He is right in front of you. Hot breaths are the only sound you allow. He steps even closer and lowers his head, and softens his voice to a whisper, "not me."

You shy away from his threatening, promising, stare and lock onto his mouth. "Bakugou, I-" he cuts you off with the most delicious evaperation of space.

"Don't do it again," he grumbles between kisses. "Don't ever do it again."

"It's," you moan when he deepens the kiss, "It's my job to," another moan.

"I don't give a fuck." Hands all over. Lips exploring far and wide. "Don't ever undress for another man again." He lifts you up, effortlessly, and animalistically.

"You can't-" your back hits a wall.

"I can't what?" A challenge. Your is mushy from the way he kisses your jaw... and neck... and collarbone... and everywhere just right. Hands everywhere. Lips exploring far and wide.

"Can't... tell me... hmm." You lift your head back. He moves his hips foreward. The flimsy dress you were forced in bundles at your hips and Bakugou, the controling bastard he is, locks your legs around him.

"Can't tell you what, y/n?" His lips find your mouth again, and almost distracts you from his hands. Panties? Gone. Emptiness? Gone.

No words leave your mouth. Loud sounds, yes, but no words to express the significant hold this man has on you. One finger, fuck it, two fingers deep and he has you riding his hand like a Porn star.

"Tell me... what to- to do..." you finally manage with much reliance on his shoulders, and arms, and legs, and fucking everything. You need this man like your pussy needs his cock.

"No?" He slips his hands out, the slick covering his fingers like second skin. You protest and then groan loudly. Fucker thrusts his fingers back in, from tip to stem. Over and over and over and fucking over again. "You sure about that, yeah?"

Again and again and again and again again again and over and faster and harder aahh! This man has you forgetting your morality as you stop breathing and chase that damned peak.

"I don't think you are..." he knows you're close. Fuck, he knows you too good. Too good... "If I tell you to come, will you listen?"

You shake your head. Up and down. Eyes shut and brows furrowed. You'll do just about anything for him.

"If I tell you to squirt all over my hand," he bucks his hand and your hips react. So do your sounds. So does your whole fucking body. "Will you listen to me then, y/n? Hmm?"

"Yes," you desperately say. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, please please please," you lose your voice.

"If I tell you to take my cock like the good girl you are, will you listen then, y/n? Will you listen to me then?" He's never been like this before. He's never had his fingers in you, fucking your brains out, while riding off the seduction of jealousy.

"Ye-" you gasp and scream and moan all in one. He rips his fingers from your sensitive core and stuffs his cock right to the end of your heat. He doesn't waste time, waiting for you to adjust.

Fuck it. He takes you raw.

From the tip right to the fucking base. In and out in and out in and fucking out. It's the only torture you wish will never end.

"You do as I tell you, y/n," he tries to sound collected and controlled while he's anything but. Rough dogging into your pussy has him spiraling out of control. Thinking of how other men, other fucking men, saw your shoulders, your legs, your lace.

It drove him beyond insasnity.

"Bakugou- Bakugou I'm-"

"Shatter for me, yeah?"

Oh, and you do. You see stars that align with stars. You hold your breath and shake when the orgasm quakes you in half. In three. In a million unsalvable pieces.

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck," he groans and moans and eventually whimpers. GroWliNg your name unlike any man ever could, or should...

Overstimulation has never burned so deliciously. He rides it out until his whimpers are cut by his own lack of breath. One pound. Two pounds. Three beasty pounds. And a pussy-load full of cum.

You only fill your lungs when the walls stop shaking and the earth stops spinning.

He starts kissing you again. Over all the tingles and mingles and dying stars.

"If this is how all our fights are going to end," you grin with intent, "I might never listen to you again."

He looks at me, examines me, and then tears your dress right off.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" He shows you his own grin as he picks up even more and carries you to the bed.

When you fall down you watch him undress and gawk at the Greek model that he is.

"It's a diversion."

© ebeever

My Hero Academia

Atlas

[xoamiiren]

TOUCH DOWN, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 all star boy

𖥔 PRECIS. a series of headcanons for my university star athletes au PAIRING. star football player!jay x supportive gf!reader GENRE. fluff, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, kissing, petnames

authors note ୨୧ I’m back. For real this time. ♥️

─────────

Star football player Jay, who always catches you staring during practice, playfully winks every time, knowing it flusters you, and then gets extra smug when you quickly look away.

Star football player Jay, who is known for his intensity on the field but turns into a total softie when you wear his jersey, tugging you close and whispering, "You look so much better in it than I ever could."

Star football player Jay, who walks around campus like he owns the place, yet always makes sure to save you a spot at the cafeteria table, offering you bites of his food even though you pretend you're not hungry so he fills up.

Star football player Jay, who stays late after practice to work on extra drills but never leaves without sending you a teasing voice message, telling you to "be a good girl and wait for me."

Star football player Jay, who doesn't care about anything but the game during matches, but the second he scores, he looks up into the stands, searching for your reaction, heart swelling when he sees you cheering.

Star football player Jay, who playfully throws his sweaty practice jersey at you after a long workout, smirking when you scowl and toss it back, but then pulls you into a hug, refusing to let go until you laugh.

Star football player Jay, who texts you at 2 AM after an away game saying he can't sleep, and when you ask why, he sends a picture of his empty bed and writes, "Guess who’s missing."

Star football player Jay, who hates being the center of attention at the post-game parties, but insists on keeping his arm around your waist the entire time, showing everyone who you belong to.

Star football player Jay, who seemed effortlessly confident until he was about to ask you out officially, suddenly stumbling over his words as he muttered, "So, uh, are we… like… together or what?"

Star football player Jay, who gets into a tense argument with you right before an important game, and even though he plays his heart out, he can’t focus until he sees you waiting for him in the locker room afterward, looking just as torn up as he feels.

Star football player Jay, who isn’t the best at expressing his emotions but leaves small notes in your locker—"You looked cute in class today"—with a tiny heart drawn at the end, just so you know he’s thinking about you.

Star football player Jay, who gets too cocky sometimes, draping himself over you and whispering, "You know you love being my number 1 fan," before trailing kisses down your neck, knowing exactly how to get a reaction out of you.

Star football player Jay, who jokes that his teammates can fend for themselves after games because he has better plans with you, only to groan when you suggest study dates instead.

Star football player Jay, who hates seeing you upset, especially if it's because of something dumb he said. He'll show up outside your dorm room with your favorite snacks, looking apologetic and muttering, "I’m sorry, okay? Can we talk?"

Star football player Jay, who lifts you up after every big win, spinning you around in front of his teammates, who all hoot and cheer, while you laugh and cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Star football player Jay, who clearly limps off the field after a brutal tackle, his jaw clenched in pain, but the moment he catches your concerned eyes in the stands, he forces a cocky smile, pretending everything’s fine just to make sure you don't worry.

Star football player Jay, who often crashes in your dorm after practice, sprawling out on your bed while you massage every knot and tension in his shoulders, arms, and thighs. He lets out quiet groans of relief, murmuring, “You have no idea how good that feels,” while his hand lazily traces patterns on your leg.

Star football player Jay, who is left completely stunned when, during halftime, you walk out onto the court with the cheerleading team, this being your big reveal that you made the squad. He stares, jaw slightly dropped, then breaks into the biggest grin, his heart racing for a completely different reason now as he watches you perform.

Star football player Jay, who completely dies of laughter when you try on his football pads, looking so small and wobbly in them. As you stumble under the weight, running with the ball, he’s practically doubled over, gasping for breath between laughs, saying, "Babe, you're gonna fall over!" even though he's secretly loving how adorable you look.

Star football player Jay, who you find in the locker room after a particularly heated game in the rain, jersey off, smeared with mud, his hair damp and dripping. The second you see him, you can't help yourself, kissing him hard on the mouth right then and there. He doesn’t waste a second gripping the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the tension melts away in that moment.

[always-just-red]

Hello! Y'know that one line of Sylus talking about his muscles saying "They're not real. But they move." The way he casually admits to not being entirely human

Could I request something angsty where Sylus has an uncanny valley aura about him where you just FELL something's not right and Sylus is all :( cause he can't make the MC feel comfortable around him but it's not like he can fix it either

Just a quick little fic for this whilst I work on a longer fic! Realised like two paragraphs in that I had the opportunity to do the most evil thing ever, so I did!! 😇 I'm really proud of this one guys pls show it some love! And thanks for the prompt, anon! You are my co-conspirator in all this evilness, mwa ha ha DISCLAIMER: This work does not reflect the feelings of the author, who would die for Sylus! Wants to hold Sylus's face in her hands and tell him he is everything good and pure in this dark, cynical chess game we call life! 😎✨

Monster

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: A Deepspace Hunter's instincts never lie...

Genre: angst oh my GOSH so much angst

Warnings/Additional tags: f!reader, AU I guess as this is a different spin on an existing scene, *passes you some tissues* here you might need these! 🥰

| Word count: 800 | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You know monsters.

Earth-shattering. Sky-shearing. Teeth, reckless: always striving for something soft to sink into. To make a home in and to eviscerate. You’ve been grazed by it— kissed by that violence more times than you can count— and you are not soft anymore; there isn’t space for it. There are scars and then there’s armour, the kind you carry with you, the kind you couldn’t shed if you tried, and you haven’t tried, because why would you?

Horror isn’t loud and cataclysmic, it’s quiet. It’s those few seconds before your Hunter’s watch signals a fluctuation of Metaflux. A premonition, trained, or maybe just human instinct, raw and vulnerable: something is wrong, here. That prickle on your skin— the tip of that claw, raked, snaked down your spine. You feel it whenever a Wanderer lurks in the shadows, or beneath a stretch of water that’s unfathomably deep and far, far too still.

Sometimes, you feel it when you look at Sylus.

I know monsters.

Before you, a fragment of a mural tells a very old story, and beside you, a red-eyed man is thinking of flowers. It’s late, and the museum is quiet. You look at the fragment’s centre, where a female warrior is plunging a blade through a dragon’s heart. “Look,” you say, nodding at the figure with a half-smile. “My predecessor.”

Sylus hums thoughtfully. “What makes you say that?”

“Because that looks like a standard Tuesday to me. Some things never change, huh?”

But other things do. With a chuckle, Sylus draws closer to you. The rumble of his laughter is warm and familiar, and his hand is near yours as he bends to examine the mural. He wants you to take it, to thread your fingers through his like you do when you resonate, when you need his power and he needs yours, except neither of you need it now. Why, then?

You know. Of course you know.

The man is all softness, voice and gaze like an afternoon sun in late summer that lulls you to sleep with thick, golden light. Always trying to evoke a dream. It’s weakness, it’s the dragon on the mural with a split heart, bleeding, and you’ll never understand why Sylus wears his on his sleeve.

It’ll be the death of him, one day. It’s set in stone. Right here.

When Sylus touches you— when the tip of his finger catches yours and makes an honest, desperate request— you don’t pull away. Something inside tugs at you, warns you, tells you a monster without a sword in its chest is one that can bite. What colour of blood would your hands prefer? His? Your own?

Your veins are cold and something is wrong, but no, you don’t pull away, because Sylus knows monsters too. Some declare themselves with twisted horns, razorlike wings and a long, barbed tail. Others declare themselves with something as subtle as a touch, withdrawn.

When Sylus steps away from you, that gash of dread closes up inside you. Heals like his wounds: no mess, no scar, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

He’s had a long time to look at the mural, and he smiles wistfully at the woman at its centre. “Some things never change,” he echoes, and it sounds as though there’s blood in his lungs, his throat, and that he has to swallow it down to say anything at all. It must sting.

“All in a day’s work for a Deepspace Hunter,” you joke flatly. You’re not even sure Sylus hears it.

Both of you stare at your fragment of history: an execution, a liberation. A matter of perspective. “Maybe…” Sylus begins, but then thinks better of it.

“Maybe what?”

He’s seeing something you don’t.

“Maybe what, Sylus?”

He spares you a glance. “The pose,” he says, indicating the warrior. “It’s ambiguous. Perhaps she isn’t slaying the beast, she could be—”

“Saving it?”

You’re considering a new perspective. Tapping a finger against your cheek as you lock eyes with your history— that elusive dream— ever oblivious to what’s behind you:

There’s a look of sheer, infinite longing— a gaze that’s been empty of you for too long, so sick of starvation, and determined to have its fill in the few, fleeting moments it can. It’s ravenous: dangerous, sharp, and irrevocably yours, if you would only turn around.

There are teeth and claws, but they’re all of them tame, and that makes them soft, doesn’t it? You could trust them on your skin. Turn around.

You do, and you are not the girl from the mural who tucked wildflowers into his hair and who sung him a song he still hears in his sleep. Sylus’s heart aches.

You are the girl from the mural who’s slaying a dragon, because it’s the oldest story, the only story.

Your eyes harden.

“Who would pull out a sword to save a monster?”

[sturnlsstuff]

GHOSTFACE!CHRIS HAS BEEN IGNORING YOU & YOU FINALLY DECIDED TO CONFRONT HIM ABOUT IT.

[ angst, cursing, mentions of murder ]

the feeling of being ignored never bothered you much, usually if someone did that to you your response was simple— you did the same. you didn't care at all, not going to waste your time on someone who didn't want to talk to you.

so why did you feel like this now?

chris didn't talk to you for over a week. at first, you were too busy with your classes and the material you had to catch up on to notice it, but eventually the fact that he wasn't texting you back at all started to weigh on you. the feeling of not knowing why made you anxious, catching yourself at thinking that maybe he had his own 'stuff' to take care of, but it wasn't a problem for him before. so something was going on.

after a few more ignored messages again, you decide to take matters into your own hands and that's how you found yourself at the frat house, entering chris's room, which turned out to be empty. you sigh, deciding to just wait until he comes back from wherever he is.

you look around his room, rolling your eyes at the empty pepsi cans and clothes laying all over the place, which you decide to pick up with the intention of organizing them just at least a little bit, but then the door opens and your eyes fall on chris. shirtless, sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips, a bag of chips in his hand as he stuffs a handful into his mouth, slamming the door shut with his foot.

his eyes finally find you awkwardly standing there, slight surprise on his face before he hides it. stopping in the middle of the room, he looks at his clothes in your hands. "the fuck you doin'?" he frowns, licking his fingers clean.

"you've got quite a mess here," you reply casually.

"and who are you, my mother?" he scoffs, walking over to you and ripping the clothes from your hands only to throw them back to the floor, almost daring you to try and pick them up again.

"no?"

"then don't act like one," he flops down onto the bed, putting the bag of chips next to him and reaching for his phone, completely ignoring your presence. and that just confirmed your suspicions— he really had been ignoring you this past week. you had to find out why, knowing it couldn't be your fault.

"what's your problem?"

"my problem?" there's a hint of annoyance in his tone while he continues scrolling, without giving any glance in your direction. "you're the one who's here when i didn't even tell you to come over."

"well, it'd be hard when you don't even reply to me."

"i'm a busy guy."

"for sure," now there's a scoff leaving your lips. "busy killing people?"

this makes him finally look at you, clearly pissed off, his jaw clenched. "the fuck do y'want, huh?" he sits up, not looking away for even a second. "coming here, tryna arrange my things, as if you owned the place and now you can't even mind your business?"

"can't mind my business?" you raise your eyebrows, shaking your head in disbelief. "my business is the fact you're ignoring me without a reason and act like an asshole."

"m'not ignorin' you, just clearly got overwhelmed spendin' everyday with your bitchy ass, can't understand that?" he stands up, "even nick asks me why don't i have time for hanging out anymore and m'not dreamin' of explaining why."

his words were like a punch to the gut. you were aware you both got a little carried away and were seeing each other constantly, but it wasn't that big of a deal. and it affects you harder than you'd like to admit. "then maybe quit being a ghostface so you'll have time for your brothers."

he takes a step closer to you, tension radiating from his body, voice low and gruff, "who do you think you are, huh? jus' admit y'want my attention all the time 'n stop stickin' nose into my life."

"oh, your attention is the last thing i want, don't worry." you speak in your usual sarcastic tone, trying not to show how his words were making you feel. "act like a man for once and at least tell me if you want this to end, instead of acting like a child who can't communicate."

"want what to end? us having sex? why, when is the only thing y'can offer me?"

chris's words hit too close to home, reminding you that what was going on between you two was only sexual. you knew it, didn't expect anything more— but you felt like that slut everyone thought you were when your ex spread false rumors about you. and what was even worse was the fact chris knew it while saying that.

you hold his gaze, ignoring how your heart sinks. "fuck you," you hiss through your teeth, putting all the hate you felt for him into it, desperate to hurt him as some form of defense. "you're such a pathetic hypocrite, chris. explaining your actions by the fact that other guys have no morals and aren't respectful, when you do the same. you're the biggest asshole of them all and you probably hate yourself for it so you take it out on them. so what can you offer me besides sex? your awful attitude? no, thanks."

chris falls completely silent, almost giving the impression that he didn't hear you, but from the annoyance written all over his face, you knew that he did hear very well. he wasn't able to ignore this like he was ignoring your texts. "the only pathetic thing here is the fact you claim to hate me yet you came here."

"oh, i still hate you, don't worry." you reply.

"then the fuck you doing here?"

it was a good question— too good for your liking, it made you look like a fool. if you didn't care, you wouldn't even think of coming here to talk to him.

"wasting time, apparently." you say, hating how your voice cracked, the anger growing within you, while chris's expression stays unreadable. "you're clearly too immature to talk like normal people, so—"

"yeah, yeah," he scoffs and rolls his eyes, his tone sharp, like he was exhausted by the very thought of explaining this. "look, i thought you were smarter than this," he says, his words cutting through the space between you. "i never promised you anything, not once. you ain't my girlfriend, and honestly, i thought you got that by now, but clearly i was wrong. not my fault you got attached or some shit, so quit that stupid talk, 'cause i don't owe you anything. it gotta finally click in your head, 'cus m'not sayin' this again."

his words hanging in the air, heavy, like they'd been pressed into the glass. they're echoing in your head, louder than the ringing silence in the room, while you try to feel anything— anger, maybe, or relief— but there was nothing anymore. you already knew this, chris wasn't your boyfriend, you had no right to be mad at him for not replying to you, but the feeling of being ignored by him weighed on you.

you just stare at him, knowing he's probably expecting some kind of response, maybe even another sarcastic remark, that would show him how much you don't care. because you don't— right? you should laugh it off, tell him to go to hell and move on with your life. you never expected promises from anyone, least of all him. you weren't surprised, should've been okay with the reality of it all, knowing that you didn't want to be with chris, never even expecting that, but damn. it still stung.

your chest tightening, a dull ache spreading through you, a small half-laughing, half-sighing breath leaving your lips. it wasn't supposed to feel like this, the disappointment you felt flickered in your eyes.

"right. got it," you nod, turning away to leave. and that was it— you wanted to say more than that, to show him you're not aching inside, but the other words got stuck, caught in the mess of your chest.

and you left his room, pretending you didn't feel every word he'd just said as if it was a weight you'd been carrying all along.

autor note: uh oh what's going onnnnnn.... 🤨

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck @jocelyncsblog @sophand4n4 @giannalovessturniolo @alesturniolos @ilovenmcs @seluky10 @chriss-slutt @ribbonlovergirl @icrazy106

[dood-itsradical]

Sorry for the delay! Work been ass. Soooo half-assed king huh? Yeesh... Ig some of us were expecting a cool title from that dude I'm not even mad lmao. Surely there's a reason behind it and I still love him. Look how semi pathetic he looked? I want more of that. He's so sexy. SO. Without further ado smut Jaegyeon bc he and y'all deserves it 😏😏

It was just a small tease, you know? You accidentally forgot about what humans called 'boundaries'. It's crazy when you think about it. Jaegyeon Na has always been a dramatic little shit with a big dick energy. Except the big dick part was also literal believe it or not.

He's a handsome dude, no doubt. He's jacked. Pathetic too if your squint hard enough. Everyone is a pathetic once in a while. Even you.

Have you seen yourself? Like, right now?

"Gghk! Fuck!" He groaned harshly next to your ears. His hard cock hitting places you never knew existed before. If you never been so bruised and beaten all your damn life, you do now. You could've done something. Tell him to stop, said the safe word but who are you to be a buzzkill? Only to waste the opportunity to see him turn into such beast?

There's not a simple skin or body parts he hasn't touch. Who the fuck are you to tell him no? You're tripping.

You lost count on how many times you have cum. Oh wait. Right. I mean how many times you have cum in each rounds. He surely is relentless. You were crying, sobbing your ass out. Who the fuck is he to stop when you just feel so fucking good around his dick?

But let's do a little recap while we're at it. Speaking of boundaries, it's your fault anyway. The so-called half-assed king showing you that he may be a half-assed but not in bed.

There is no position he hadn't fuck you yet. Any surface he can get to, it's the night you received it. The bed, the wall, vanity, the floor, the window, bathroom sink etc.

His hips slapping against yours with a sloppy rhythm as he hold a fistful of your hair against the wall. He was quick to change his angle, unsatisfied. He never satisfied. When he thought he hit your sweet spot, he had to find another. You can't fool him, he knows there's more.

You let out a desperate moan. He mimicked you out of spite. "Fuck, you're so fucking annoying." He fastened his pace as a payback, making you whined loudly. "Shut up!!" He scowled louder, pushing your head deeper against his wall.

He let out a groan of his own, breathing harshly through his teeth as he fuck you stupid. The sight is sexy. Using one hand to hold you while the other dangle on his side. He's just giving you a break. That is the very least you can get from him. He doesn't stop his pace at all though.

When he's tired of standing, he just shoved you into his king sized mattress and locked you between his jacked bicep, practically choking you while he fucks you from behind until you back ached again.

You love it though. Your iris basically shaped into hearts. You didn't have your tongue sticking out like a whore though. He's just too relentless because you're holding the pain between your teeth. Too brutal. It's fucking painful you actually forgot the meaning of pain anymore.

You're just too loud tonight so he clasped his calloused hand onto your mouth to shut up you while your lewd mouth turned into desperate, helpless muffles.

"Fuck." He gasped heavily, his tightened his grip. You could barely breath before. Now you look fucking ridiculous. The stamina is just too insane you at the verge of passing out. Combine with your sweats and other dirty fluids, the fucking section just get even smoother and hotter. His cock stretching your easier, with you beginning to limb against him.

"Do not." He warned, immediately letting go of your whole body, towering you and spin you around to face him. "Don't you fucking dare pass out of me." He gritted his teeth, shaking you as he grasped your cheeks between his hand as you faced each other. The pure lust and dominance burning in his eyes, even in such a bitchy state you can see it. He's going feral.

Within a flash, he let your face go and bring your legs under his arms before locking them on both side of your ears.

He thrusts back into you in one go, filling you up with his meat stick once again. Earning another annoying sound coming from your mouth.

He continue to fuck you like there's no tomorrow. He is hellbent to remind you, to remind everyone why he isn't just a fucking half-assed king.

Masterlist

[wrttenbyhan]

dear future husband..

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 :

annoyed!fem reader x soon to be fiancé!han jisung

𝐚/𝐧 :

my first oneshot 🤍

“love, you're making this difficult,”

a groan lingers in the back of han's throat, although he stifles it inside for his sake.

your heels tap on the ground with a fierce pace, eyes narrowed, keeping your back turned on him.

“nessa, come on, baby,”

he hesitates to pull you back, but he decides to grab onto your purse's string, stopping you in your tracks.

“why are you like this? what'd i do?”

you spun around,

“you're late! this isn't the first time you've done this to our dates, han.”

well, how would you not be frustrated? you dolled up for hours and he shows up an hour late.

“i’m sorry, angel, something.. came up at work,”

han internally curses at himself. he got too carried away looking at rings and flowers, thinking it's only six o’ clock. how's he gonna propose when you're mad at him?

you sigh and repeat his last word out loud.

han can immediately tell from the tone of your voice that you clearly don't believe him. he hesitates to respond further, knowing damn well you'll get more annoyed.

“yeah,”

he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“i had something to do urgently, and i got held back.”

truthfully, he wanted to ask the florist on which bouquet's the best to give to you and the jeweller on the right ring, but you don't need to know that yet.

“you say that all the time,”

you say, before tugging onto your purse so your boyfriend lets go,

“i can't believe you anymore.”

han grits his teeth at your comment. you weren’t wrong though, he does say that excuse a lot..

“i really did, i swear. we had a meeting about our latest album.”

he knows you wouldn’t believe him either way, but he tries to sound convincing. he just needed to make you believe him somehow so that you and him can go on your date and end the day on a good note before he proposed on the next day.

“but this isn't the first time this has happened.”

“i know.. i-”

han heaves a long sigh. he knows how frustrated you are, and he's frustrated at himself too. why couldn’t he have just double checked the time?

he takes a few steps closer to you, gently rubbing comforting circles around your arms.

“i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to make you this mad..”

“are you cheating on me?”

you say, the question just spilling out of your mouth. you audibly hear han gasp,

“what?”

his mouth drops at your question, eyes widening.

“of course not! i’d never do that to you..”

he’s completely shocked that you'd even ask that. it’s the last thing he would ever do to you, cheat on you. even the thought of it just sickens him.

“then what are you doing that’s making you late all the time? because it’s not work.”

“i-”

he hesitates and internally panics. he can’t just tell you yet, he has to come up with a random excuse.

“it’s just work, i swear!”

he knows it’s a terrible excuse, but he has no choice. if he told you the real reason, it’d ruin the surprise.. and ruin his proposal for tomorrow.

“fine..”

you sigh, before dragging him along to the car. han takes your hand in his, intertwining fingers, and heads out of his apartment and into the car. he helps you into the passenger seat before hopping into the driver’s seat and starting the vehicle.

the entire car ride was pretty silent, a comfortable one though. he glances over at you from time to time. you still look mad, and he mentally curses at himself.

“han, you idiot, make her happy,”

is what he said to himself in his mind.

as he stops the car at the parking lot, he immediately unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car. he hurries around the car to open your door for you.

he helps you out of the car and shuts the door close before taking your hand in his again.

“come on.”

with that, he slowly walks beside you into the restaurant, still holding onto your hand.

as you both entered and were escorted to a table, han quietly pulls back your chair from the table before gesturing you to take a seat. he pushes the chair back closer to the table before sitting down into his own seat across from you.

he grabs the menu and looks over the options, although he’a not actually thinking of what to order. he’s too focused on your mood instead.

he sneaks a few glances at you as you scan your eyes over the menu. he’s still upset over the fact you thought he’d cheat on you. how could you even think that? he loves you more than anything in this world, and he could never, ever do that to you.

han notices you set the menu down and fold your arms across your chest, now looking out of the window. you still don’t look too happy, and it breaks his heart seeing you like that. he hates himself for messing up this date with you.

he sighs, folding his own menu and setting it beside the other. he reaches a hand out to take yours on the table, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“can you look at me?”

he asks gently,

“please.”

“hm?”

he pouts at your emotionless response, and he continues to rub your knuckles.

“please, look at me..”

he repeats, a slight desperate tone in his voice. he just wants you to look at him. you ask him why, and he only just sighs louder. that stung. he’s not expecting that response. he tries his best to keep his calm, although that comment hurt him.

he takes a deep breath and speaks.

“i want you to look at me because i hate it when you’re mad at me..”

you look anywhere but at his eyes. you end up staring at the menu, saying,

“i’m not mad at you.”

yet it was clear you were annoyed with him because you said it with sass and attitude. han raises an eyebrow at your comment, not believing you. you’re still not looking at him, and he knows you’re definitely mad.

“love, you’re definitely mad. you just won’t admit it.”

you look up at him, groaning and rolling your eyes. he almost let out a sigh of relief when you finally looked at him. the sight of your eyes made his heart skip a beat.

he holds your hand gently, intertwining his fingers with yours and rubbing circles around your knuckles.

“finally..”

he smiles, trying to act casually and hide his relief.

“there’s that pretty face of yours,”

he mutters quietly as he looks at you, staring into your eyes.

he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles,

“and there’s those beautiful eyes i love seeing..”

he looks at you expectantly, studying your expression closely. he can tell you’re still upset with him, but he doesn’t want to mention anything that might worsen the mood.

“are you.. still mad at me?”

he asks in a hesitant tone, afraid of your response. you shake your head and he grins, and you find yourself grinning back.

his heart flutters in relief and he lets out a breath as he gently massages your knuckle, feeling overjoyed that you’re no longer upset.

“good..”

he mumbles blissfully. curious, you ask him what he's going to order.

“hm?”

he glances at you, surprised by your random question.

“oh uh, i’ll just have the steak, rare.”

he answers, his thoughts elsewhere. he’s wondering how he’s gonna propose later.

“how about you?”

you hesitate, knowing that he'll probably tease you for choosing yet again,

“the pasta.”

as expected, han scoffs and chuckles, his hand squeezing yours.

“you’re getting pasta again?”

he teased you since you always ordered pasta when both of you went to a restaurant. you blush in embarrassment and nod. you then looked at the menu again, trying to see if there was anything that piqued your interest.

“i could have the fish.. or the potatoes.”

he hums, trying to picture you eating fish or potatoes.

“you know you’re gonna end up ordering pasta again.”

he comments, and he’s correct, most likely. after a good two minutes, you sigh and look up at han, who was still smirking from ear to ear.

“can.. can i just have the pasta?”

“if that’s what you really want..”

he grins, knowing you’d never ever change off the pasta.

“at least you’ll be happy with your decision.”

he lets go of one of your hands and motions for a waiter. a waiter makes his way to your table, the man smiling politely as he pulls out a pen and notepad.

han turns to the waiter and says,

“we’d like to order now.”

“i’ll have the steak, rare. and she’ll have the pasta.”

he tells the waiter.

they nod and jots down the orders, looking up at both of you.

“will that be all?”

“yes, we’re done for now,”

he replies, nodding slightly at the waiter.

they smile once again.

“your orders will be ready in a while. thank you.”

with that, the man walks away.

he turns back to you, looking at you again. he takes your hand in his again, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumb.

“you know i’m right.”

he points out, a hint of a playful smirk crossing his features.

“you’re not gonna change your mind, because you always choose pasta.”

you giggle and tell him to shut up. but then your attention immediately goes to a man going down on one knee to his girlfriend. he watches the couple from the other table in a corner of his eye, seeing the man taking out a small velvet box and holding it out to his girlfriend. han feels slightly envious of their moment, as it’s only a matter of time before his own proposal begins.

he hums, still watching the couple in envy. He’s wondering how he’s going to pull off his own proposal later at night.

“they look happy,”

he comments quietly, still studying the couple. the man is now holding the girlfriend’s hand as he slides the ring on her finger.

“aww!”

you mumble, while the man embraces the now-engaged woman, both of them sharing a soft kiss.

han’s heart aches slightly in jealousy of the couple as he watches them. he suddenly wonders how you’ll react to his own proposal.

you whisper to han,

“she’s crying, that's so adorable!”

he nods his head in agreement with your statement, focusing on the engaged couple.

“it is cute,”

he muses, continuing to watch their moment. He looks at their happy faces and wishes for his own proposal to be a success.

“i wonder if you’ll cry too when i propose to you…”

he mumbles to himself, watching as the man helps his newly-engaged woman up from her chair and holding her in his arms.

“or maybe you won’t cry, and you’ll simply just look at me in shock.. like how you did when i first confessed to you..”

he smiles slightly at the memory of your surprised face when he confessed to you.

it was now the morning of the big day. han was going to propose to you today.

he was woken up by the sunlight streaming through the curtains. he blinks his eyes open, the sunlight slightly blinding him. he sits up in the bed, the sheets pooling around his lap. his eyes scan around the bedroom, landing on you, who was still asleep.

he takes a moment to admire you in your slumber, seeing your peaceful face and your slowly rising chest.

he then glances at the digital clock on the bedside. six am. another hour, and he’ll propose to you. he can already feel his heart rate quicken in anticipation.

he lets out a shaky breath, trying to calm down his racing heart. he looks at you once more, seeing your eyes still shut.

quietly, he slowly slips out of bed and pads across the carpet to the bathroom. he flicks on the light and closes the door softly.

he turns to the mirror, his eyes landing on his own reflection. he takes in his appearance, seeing his disheveled hair, and his slightly swollen eyes.

“you look nervous,”

he thinks to himself, trying to compose himself. he splashes cold water on his face and tries to calm down.

he grabs a towel off the rack and starts drying his face. he takes a few more breaths, taking the time to calm down from his nervousness.

he’s nervous, but he’s also excited to finally make you his fiancé and future wife.

the thought of what is to come floods into han’s mind.

“what if she says no? what if she hates the ring? what if she doesn’t want to marry me yet?”

his brain is suddenly filled with negative thoughts, and he tries to get rid of them. a cold feeling washes over him at the thought of you saying no to him.

“calm down,”

he tells himself, don’t overthink it. he glances at the mirror again, looking at his reflection once more.

he looks a little shaky and a bit pale, so he splashes his face with cold water again. he’s trying to calm down, but the thought of you rejecting him is constantly looping his mind,

“you’re just overthinking, he reassures himself, she’s not going to say no. you both already talked about getting married someday..”

he tries to stop his anxious thoughts but just the mere idea of you saying no is eating him up inside.

he lets out another shaky breath, trying to push the negative thoughts away. he forces on a small smile and tells himself everything will be okay.

“you’re going to propose, and she’s going to say yes. you’ll get engaged that night, and she’ll love the ring. it’s gonna be fine. you’ve been together for years, and she’s madly in love with you..”

han slowly steps out of the bathroom, his mind still racing with thoughts.

he approaches the bed and sits on the edge, looking at your sleeping form once again.

“babe,”

he calls out quietly, gently shaking your shoulder. he continues gently shaking your shoulder, trying to wake you up.

“babe..”

he repeats, his voice soft so he doesn’t startle you. your eyes flutter open and you sit up, rubbing your eyes and squinting. han couldn't help but smile at how adorable you were, your messy hair all over the place and how you struggled to get up.

“morning, love,”

he says gently.

“sorry to wake you,”

he apologizes as his words register in your sleepy head. you smile tiredly and puckered your lips at him. he chuckles and obediently pecks your lips and buried his head into your neck.

“i have a surprise for you,”

he suddenly whispers it into your ear, gently biting the crook of your neck, arms slowly wrapping around your waist. his breath feels heavy and hot.

without a word to protest, han pulls you towards the balcony, your steps following his as he guides you.

the night breeze was fresh, a little chilly. the sky was clear and a hint of the moonlight seeps into the balcony.

he slowly tugs you by the railing. you feel han behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. he rubs your sides and you look behind yourself, seeing his beautiful face. he smiles and you ask him,

“what’s the surprise?”

“just.. stay still and just close your eyes,”

he softly kisses your cheek as he gently commands you to shut your eyes. he's being strangely careful,

“no peeking..”

he flips around so that you're facing him. he gently places your hands over your eyes and whispers,

“keep still, honey.”

he hugs you from behind for a few seconds, rubbing your hips to relax you, but mostly to relax himself.

he moves away, letting his warmth leave your body, going in front you. you can hear his ragged breathing, and a whisper. a click of his tongue.

then, you feel his presence before you. he was knelt down on one knee, facing you now.

“you can open your eyes now, angel..”

his voice was soft. your eyes were met with his, his soft brown hues staring into your soul, a smile playing in the corners of his lips. a shaky breath leaves his lips.

he's holding a small black velvet box, holding on to it anxiously. you gasp and han chuckled at your reaction, taking a shaky breath, fiddling with the box.

“i didn’t think it would take me so much courage..”

he slowly opens the box, revealing a diamond ring to you, sparkling under the moonlight.

“i..”

he can feel his heart hammering against his chest, sweat coating his skin. he can’t find the words, but he tries anyway, his eyes not leaving yours.

“i’ve been in love with you since the day i met you. i don’t ever wanna lose you. i can’t live.. and i don't want to live without you,”

he can feel nervousness bubble up within him, his body tense.

“i don’t want to be just your boyfriend anymore.. i want more..”

he gently grabs one of your hands, holding it tightly, his thumb stroking the back of it.

he takes another shaky breath in, his brown eyes locking with yours intently.

“i want to marry you…”

he lets the words hang in the air, the night suddenly falling deadly silent. it was only you and him, alone. he nervously awaits your response, breath caught within his throat, his eyes filled with desperation.

“will you.. marry me, angel?”

you find yourself choked up in tears. you sob and han was taken aback by your sudden reaction, watching a tear roll down your cheek, your hand slightly trembling within his grasp.

his eyes widen a little bit, his heart suddenly aching, as he waited for your answer. he says to himself in the back of his mind,

“please say yes..”

you stare at han on the ground for you. he looks up and you, concerned, awaiting your answer. you nod and blurt out,

“yes!”

a sigh of relief escaped his lips. a shaky breath.

a genuine smile slowly pulls its way up and takes over his features, his eyes lighting up, his lips trembling. he gingerly takes the ring out of the box and slowly slides it onto your finger.

“you’re mine..”

he whispers, his voice cracking a little. he stood up and pulled you into his chest, his arms caging you.

he could hear your cries against his chest, his hands gently tracing over your back, his chin resting on top of your head.

“you’re crying.. why are you crying, angel? every time i see you cry, i..”

he softly mumbled, his own tears stopping him from finishing the sentence. he embraces you firmly against his frame, his warmth enveloping you. you choke out,

“i’m just so happy..”

han held you a little closer, his nose nuzzling against the top of your head, his hand gently caressing your back. He lets out another shaky breath, a sigh of relief.

“so you really are mine now.. my fiancé..”

the word falling off his mouth was like honey to your ears.

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

SKZ getting cheated on (Hyung Line + Han)

(How long it’ll take them to find out on their own, how they’d react, if they’d break up or not)

Chan

Honestly, it'd probably take him a while to realize. Because, for one, he'd probably feel very stable in his relationship and his place in his partner's life. He has that "They'd never because they NEED me" kinda mentality. The longer they've been together the less likely he is to find out organically unless he full-on catches them in the act. He also feels like his relationships are very solid at their core. Another big issue is to be entirely sure his partner is cheating, he needs to break free of delusions. It would also just be far too much for him if he did suspect it because he'd be afraid he'd lose his partner for even daring to think something like that. I think he'd also...Take things for granted? Like, "I have you there's no way you'd ever leave or want anything more/else" type of thing. Everything's familiar. And he doesn't take into account that anything could possibly happen.

If he finds out he got cheated on, he'd immediately tell his friends and seek comfort in them. I'm also getting he's the type who'd cheat on his partner to get his lick back or something. Cheating is something Chan can't get past, so he'd definitely leave them. He'd feel hopeless, and his entire life would probably momentarily crash and burn. I think he'd also be really frustrated and it'd ruin his trust in everyone in his life. He'd also push down and suppress a lot of things. Because of that, the feelings of hurt and anger and resentment can easily fester because he didn't allow himself to acknowledge them or hash them out.

Lee Know

Idk why I immediately thought of ice spice

Specifically that like "You think you the shit, bitch? You not even the fart." I don't even like her or that song

BUT ANYWAYS

He'd know quickly. You can't HIDE that from this man. Trust he'll find out ASAP. Because, one, his intuition is on a whole other level. Two, he'd immediately know if something's off. Whether that be your location being off or somewhere it's not supposed to, etc. Even if you think you're slick he'll FIND a tell one way or another. I'm also a firm believer he goes through phones. I'm talking every nook and cranny of that phone including your EMAILS. He's finding that shit one way or another and you're lucky if there's a 24 hour window of time where he doesn't know about it. He'll find a way to figure it out.

In terms of how he'd react...He'd definitely find out on his own, so there'd be this 'Aha!' moment. Because he knew he wasn't going crazy. He's going to figure out every nitty gritty detail of the cheating with PRINTED OUT laminated receipts with copies just incase. He's definitely gonna confront his partner. And trust he's going to have a boost of confidence figuring it out. Definitely not the type who blames himself. He's also probably telling everyone and their mother. And YOUR mother. He sees it as a battle won and everyone needs to hear about the victory.

He has a 50/50 chance of leaving, though. On ONE hand, while trust is very important to him he'd also feel a sense of...I don't want to say ownership but that's the only word I can think of over his partners. So, he simply wouldn't want to let them go. I feel like the love would also linger a lot because he feels very deeply. So, he may just stay with his partner and fall into some toxic habits of keeping them on lockdown, being all hovery...The type who's calling his partner every 5 minutes, showing up to their job to make sure they're there, getting their Apple login so they can receive every single message and notif they do...He's keeping them on LOCK. But on the other hand, he could very well just...Fall out of love in an instant. It's very contradictory. Love and hate are two sides of the same coin and he has a very large capacity for hate, especially when betrayed. Probably just moved onto the next. So yeah, he's either dumping you rather cruelly then moving on like you never existed, or keeping you uner lock and key.

Changbin

He'd probably FIND OUT fairly quickly, because he'd kind of have this gut feeling. But he'd suppress those feelings and convince himself he was insane until he finally catches his partner red handed and realizes he's right on the money. Because he's very passionate about his relatinship and doesn't want to be imposing on his partner or doubting them for no reason. That's not his intention nor something he's comfortable with doing. He also wants to trust in his partner. He'll probably lose faith in himself and just be very on edge until he realizes he's right.

His entire life would fall apart when he finds out. He falls into destructive tendencies. Probably self-sabotages a lot. He feels like a failure, and he's so afraid of being made fun of or looked down on because he got cheated on. He'd probably fall into a depression and just be very negative. He'd feel like he wasn't enough, and couldn't be good enough. And feel he just couldn't be all his partner needed so they found it in someone else. But he'd also regain some of his trust in himself. Because he realized his intuition was right and he wasn't just losing his mind. Would definitely need a lot of kindness and comfort from friends and family, and a lot of self-expolration. May fall into delusions to help himself cope.

He'd also definitely break up with his partner if they cheated. Because they're obviously not his person, and he'll find his person.

Hyunjin

I haven't even pulled yet and I already know this'll affect my mental wellbeing

But also...MY MAN MY MAN MY MANNNNN I haven't read on him in a while (I'm saying this because he's my bias not because i'm delusional enough to think he'd want me don't @ me)

FIRST OF ALL, he'd believe he's being cheated on long before he actually is. Like, I wouldn't be surprised if he's already been in a situation where he dreamed of being cheated on and then a few weeks later got cheated on and was convinced he was a prophet or something. Not literally but you catch my drift. But I also feel like the amount of time it'd take to figure it out is considerably lengthened by the fact that he looks at everything through rose-tinted glasses of hopeless romance. He has a love for life and is more focused on that than anything else. Plus, he's near perpetually convinced he's about to be cheated on or is being cheated on so once he genuinely DOES see the red flags it's less...Impactful? To him? Because he sees them in everything. He's sensitive, though, so i feel like he'd sense it if something was off. Like, if his partner was cheating because of lost feelings he'd realize the lost feelings. And then, his imagination would take the wheel and suddenly it's a joyride off a cliff and into a mental spiral. I feel like deep down he'd also know like "Oh shit, this is different. They may actually be cheating for real." I feel like he has the emotional maturity to know that other times he was overreacting and being delusional. But this is more than that. I feel like the moment he open his eyes, he'll immediately know.

And he's getting the hell up out of there.

He'd be CRUSHED if he found out he got cheated on. He'd probably throw his money away doing stupid shit with it, fall into certain bad habits. He'd feel hopeless, and feel like everything he worked so hard for during the relationship was a waste. Like he's failed. But he'd also 100% publicly expose his partner. I also think he'd drown his sorrows in another relationship or fling or whatever. I'm talking within the hour of finding out he's under someone else for the sole purpose of distraction. He'd also 100% use this to fuel his general anger/crashoutery for the next few months. Like he'll be another level of volatile and emotionally unstable. He'd probably reflect a lot on the relationship. He'd withdraw from a lot of things and just want to be by himself and recover from the pain. Definitely would avoid anything that could potentially stress him out.

He'd also break up with his partner. Surprisingly. I was honestly expecting him to stay. But I feel like his energy has changed? He has more trust in himself and his value and he's not just content sticking around through mistreatment anymore. Good for him.

Han

Shawty bae

I don’t think he’d notice? He’d just very much be blinded by everything. He idealizes his relationships, and he’d be so happy he just genuinely wouldn’t notice if something was amiss. He’s also just generally an overthinker and has a very scattered mind, so I think if he did pick up on something he wouldn’t notice AT ALL he’s not being delusional.

I think he’d still love them if they cheated. But I also think he’d be the type to…Cheat back? If his partner were to ever cheat on him. He’d definitely also get closer with friends and family for emotional support and find happiness there. Mask the sadness with more happiness and drown himself in pleasure. I think once he finds out everything will suddenly connect. All the puzzle pieces will fall into place and everything will suddenly make sense.

I think he would want to but I don’t think he would. It’d be a big inner conflict and he’d really have to force himself to. He’d need to think on it and his friends and family would have to push for it. Because he’s like “Well I’ve put so much effort into this why throw it away?” And just values the stability relationships and having his ‘other half’ brings to him.

[usagiarchive]

angel of the codeine scene — [06] who i am, who am i?

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sypnosis. [ 1.3k words. no warnings. ] — as the dream gets more vivid, so does your will to discover who you truly are to Xiao.

usagi's note: i didn't attend my class today, so here i edited this early just because hehe, also wdyt aby my new theme (ily clorinde)

You dream of him once again.

Xiao.

And you know it really is him because you hear what he says this time. He talks to you the same way he did when he told you not to leave him again.

It's unfamiliar to you, the tone he speaks in, you don't know it's name, you don't know what to make of it, but you can feel it in the dreams.

And this time, when you wake, you remember bits and pieces of the dream. Some still slip from the net of your mind, but you remember those that linger.

This time it was in a field.

(Xiao was walking beside you, it felt like you were watching a show. You couldn't hear what he was talking about, but the place you're in was familiar.

And you know you've seen this while on patrol with him.

You can see his mouth moving but you can't hear what he's saying.

When he turns to look at you and smiles…

You wake.)

It leaves you more frustrated, being so close to finding out who Xiao really is to you- or rather who you are to him, but the dream remnants keep slipping and you're forced to leave the dream memories.

You have to find answers.

…

Verr sees you at dawn, fully dressed and carrying a satchel of your books and papers.

“Oh, where are you going, sweetheart?”

You halt in place, “The harbor, Miss Verr, I’m going to meet Baizhu-yisheng,”

Her eyebrow raises, “This early?”

“It's an emergency,”

“Wouldn't it be faster with your Adeptus?” she asks, but before she could finish with her question, you were already out of the room.

“Bye, Miss Verr!”

…

See, lying to the woman who took care of you constantly when Xiao wasn't around did make you feel very guilty. But you weren't exactly sure if Xiao would allow you to talk to Ganyu alone.

The past few weeks he has been more present, he eats with you now, asks how your lessons with Baizhu have gone, he keeps you closer during patrols.

After that… kiss (as you've learned from Baizhu, who was very surprised to have learned that Xiao was the one who initiated), he has been somewhat closer to you. More allowing of touch and help.

But he still does not talk much and the dreams get more and more vivid as the time passes.

At the bridge of the harbor, you felt the restrictions Morax had told you about, it was a miracle you even made it this far.

You could see the gold threads in your veins pulsing with light under your sleeves as you fought to walk all the way to Ganyu’s workplace.

Your body and mind keeps telling you you should turn back, return to Xiao, be by his side. But you know you have to get answers.

The dreams are dreams, and as you've told Morax, it has to mean something.

The man of course did not answer your inquiries, only telling you that he'll tell you in due time, sometime soon, he says.

The moment you make it, Madame Ping is there. She urges you to sit as she sees your barely conscious form, as she retrieves Ganyu for you.

The headache feels like you're about to split your head.

…

Ganyu is more than happy to tell you what she knows, but it also leaves you at a dead end.

“We were in different encampments during the war,” she explains, “I stayed with Madam Guizhong, while he stayed with Rex Lapis,”

She puts a finger to her chin as she thinks, “Though I did hear from Indarias that he had a human with him most of time, he became um… what's the term, a bodyguard! Yes, he became a bodyguard for them,”

“Did… did you know anything else about them?”

Ganyu shakes her head, “No, sadly, after that news, the Great War descended rapidly, and I lost contact with Xiao and the other Adepti for a while,”

“The next time we met was when Rex Lapis was hailed as the Geo Archon and we were rebuilding Liyue,”

You stared down at the cup of tea at defeat. The headache was even worse and Ganyu noticed it.

“Hey, are you sure you don't want to take this back to Wangshu Inn?” she asks.

“No, he'll know I'm here if we return,”

“Can't he sense you?”

You shake your head, “No, I learned how to conceal adeptal energy from Morax-shen,”

Her face goes into surprise, “That's… very impressive, wow, not even a millenia old and you've already mastered it?”

She smiles at you, “You're learning well,”

“Thank you,” you smile, then sigh, “I still haven't found out who that human was to him…”

It's Madame Ping that speaks now, “The human was a healer,” she began.

She pours another cup of tea for her and Ganyu as she continues, “The reason he was assigned to them was because healers were the first to be killed off.”

“In a war, it makes sense to do such a thing to ensure brute force and violence would hail victory,”

She places the teapot down, “The Conqueror of Demons fell in love with that human.”

Ganyu shows surprise as everything clicks for you. But it doesn't make sense, if they fell in love with that human, why am I having dreams about their time together?

“She died during the war,” Madame Ping tells you gravely.

“Oh.”

“How cruel,” Ganyu whispers.

A new voice joins the discussion, “After the war, he was assigned to Wangshu Inn as his base of operations,”

“Morax-shen!”

He smiles, “I wasn't informed there was a tea party,” he says as he takes a seat.

You say nothing as you watch him sip on the cup.

“Will you tell me now?”

His eyes flit to you, “I suppose it is time,”

…

He feels the pull of the life bond the moment you're out of the radius.

Why? he keeps asking his mind, Why would you leave? Where would you go? Did you leave on your own or were you taken? Why would you leave him again?

He can't find you, he can't sense you, and he's going insane. Xiao warps to the highest point of Wangshu Inn and desperately tries to find you.

He can feel your anguish, the pulsing of your veins, but he can't sense where you are.

Just come back. Please, just come back.

He can hear his heart thrumming in his chest, his throat tightens, and he- he realises this is exactly how he felt when he couldn't find you.

When he couldn't save you.

“Xiao…” the wind carries your voice to him.

Just like last time.

“...Find me where we last departed…”

What?

…

Morax has told you the truth.

What exactly is wrong with Xiao, but that he has no idea how to treat it, only to temper the symptoms.

Who exactly you are to Xiao, how you were that human from half a century ago, how you died during a camp invasion as they were busy fighting off in the North.

How you were made specifically for Xiao. Not only so that you can heal him, but also because you were his lover.

It made sense. A god wanting his warrior a chance to rest. To live the life he was unable to when he wasin the war.

Rex Lapis was a merciful god.

He tells you where you died.

…

Xiao find you in the same river where you died in his arms.

He stares, not knowing what to do.

Was this punishment? Did he really piss his god off that he was given you and you were to be killed again in front off him? In the same place you were taken from him all those years ago?

Instead he hears you hum a song he has not heard of in a long time.

A song he taught to the past you.

Lover's Oath.

He takes one step forward and the water beneath his feet makes a splash.

You turn.

The breath in his lungs disappates.

“Xiao,” you smile, “I'm back,”

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usagi's note: im so happy i might finish editing the last three parts of this later or sometime over the weekend anyway pls tell me what u thought abt it, and as always take care!! o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o PLEASE NOTICE HOW I WROTE THAT U CALLED HIM XIAO INSTEAD OF XIANSHENG.

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@usagiarchive 2024. do not repost, translate, or use for AI. reblogs, likes, and comments are very appreciated!!

[fadelstylist]

Can't even talk about how sad and offended I am for how the characters handled the situation with Kant. I understand that Style wants to save his friend and that Kant wants to save himself (even if I don't believe a single word he says) but I'm so mad at Bison.

Why does he keep thinking it's all about him? Kant offended both. Not only Bison. He can't choose what Fadel is allowed to feel after all the problems he caused.

1. Kant almost sent him and Bison to jail. Yes, this betrayal affects Fadel too because it's more than a love story.

2. Kant put Style in danger, facing extreme situations (like getting shot) as consequences of Kant's lies. And yes, I know Style ended up accepting but he literally didn't have other options because Kant said "he can kill you if you leave now" and then "you are all I have".

3. Kant's plan triggered Fadel's past trauma and fears of:

a. Letting people in.

b. Betrayal.

c. Losing someone he loves.

Even if he could heal from a and b, he still needs to suffer from the c. Because, he knew since the beginning of the show, why he shouldn't dream of love. Because his lifestyle doesn't let him, because if you love someone you don't put them in danger. He can still lose Style and the cycle will start over and over again. It's crazy how little this show cares about mental health. Bison's is non-existent.

And after all of that, Bison decides that he will still put himself first, and make this whole scene (which is a clear emotional reaction after all the trauma) about himself as if this was always about not letting him get a boyfriend. It was never about that. The audacity of pointing a gun to Fadel and say "It's my life" as if it wasn't Fadel's too. Did Bison ever care about Fadel? Because Style is the only person who respects his feelings. Did he ever think about him when he did all of this? He literally ran away out of anger to "kill" Kant and didn't even tell him where. He not only didn't kill Kant but also teamed up with him.

And then he only says "I'm sorry, I was angry".

It's crazy.

Then you can tell me Bison isn't selfish and self-centered. How can't he never think about Fadel after doing anything? And when he could, he just pointed a gun at him because he chose himself. And let me tell you: Bison never had enough reasons to believe Kant was truthful. Fadel has reasons to believe because he knows that, somewhere in the middle, Style didn't even know about all of this (not to mention that their development was more realistic and coherent). Why still choosing Kant over Fadel? And I know it's not like he would've killed him but that action was a whole statement.

And even after all of the things Fadel had to face for Bison, he still chooses Bison. Fadel celebrated Bison's birthday (while being angry and hurt) and decided to forgive Kant. What Bison ever did for Fadel? He's just ungrateful for his protection.

It felt so wrong to see how Bison never take any of Fadel's feelings seriously. Like he doesn't matter because he's just a sad and bored brother. He probably doesn't know about any of the things Fadel went through because Fadel only told some stuff to someone who proved to care about him. And that's Style. And that's why I think Style was right when he said he's the only one who really wants the best for him.

Fadel was mocked off again during the "almost shooting" Kant scene. Whatever hurt Fadel felt, it doesn't matter because we only care about Bison's. Fadel gets to put the gun down and make some joke????? about the seafood????? And then you want to tell me the show takes Fadel's feelings serious? I literally can't rewatch that scene because I can't stand it. It feels so wrong. So much hurt untold and unhealed for the sake of the "plot".

[goldcleaver]

Phainon will fail Nikador's trial.

Let me explain;

TLDR; Phainon will fail the trial as Nikador will reject him. However, he will be chosen by Kephale to lead the people of Amphoreus to victory. The coreflame of Nikador will instead go to an unwilling Mydei.

Soooo, Phainon is off on a big adventure trying to claim Nikador's divinity after surrendering their coreflame to the Vortex of Genesis since the ambassador of the prophecy doubts his strength of will. I'm here to tell you that he will fail this trial in some shape or form.

Throughout the trailblaze mission, Phainon proves on multiple occasions that he worries about those he cares about constantly. Obviously, the best example of this is how desperately he wants to help Mydei fight Nikador. When he's denied, and sent to discover Nikador's weakness instead, he spends the next couple of hours in-game yapping about how much time they're wasting. He's worried out of his mind, and the rest of the cast picks up on it all the time.

Not only that, but he doubts himself. Something troubles him ahead of surrendering the Coreflame to the Vortex, which both Castorice and Dan Heng notice. He seems to have no qualms about admitting it, but he clearly can't shake whatever it is making him falter. 

While there is nothing explicitly stating what he's worrying about, the possibilities are endless. Prior to being chosen by the prophecy, Phainon was fuelled by his desire for vengeance, described by Castorice as being a "hollow shell". She questions whether or not his new mission takes priority over his desire for revenge. Similarly, Mydei says Phainon's fear holds him back, and that his resolve must be toughened if he is to withstand whatever Nikador throws at him. Phainon evidently wears his heart on his sleeve, and it's a very troubled heart.

What this shows is that Phainon is not ready to dedicate himself entirely to the fight, which Nikador demands. Nikador uses extreme violence to extinguish strife and war to maintain the balance of Amphoreus, which currently doesn't quite line up with Phainon's character. He is more inclined to using violence as a way of defending and protecting people.

Now, that's not to say that Phainon has nothing to do with Nikador at all. He seems to be a figure the people can rally around and follow into battle, much like Nikador. However, I don't think this is enough to see him through his trial.

So, while Phainon will be rejected by Nikador on account of his fears, he will instead be chosen by Kephale.

Phainon is the Deliverer. This isn't just a silly nickname given to him by Mydei - it's his role in the story of Amphoreus. When he has overcome his own struggles, he will lead the people and the Chrysos Heirs through the crisis and towards a new dawn. In Aglaea's own words;

Now, what exactly she means by this is unclear, but it gives me an uneasy feeling. The only miracles we have seen so far have all involved looking back in time, which Phainon currently cannot do. However, Aglaea's words are eerily similar to those describing the legend of Kephale's return in the Tides of the Basin. Here, Kephale leads the people to victory against the black tide, which seems more fitting for Phainon's character.

So, Phainon will be chosen by Kephale, whether that means receiving their Coreflame or assuming their identity, or perhaps he already is Kephale, in his own way.

This is not only conveyed to us textually via foreshadowing within the story itself, but it is also communicated via visual design. Phainon's design is positively littered with Kephale's symbol and other sun-related imagery.

I can spot at least 12 instances of Kephale's symbol or sun motifs in his design. That's no coincidence. In comparison, the only real reference to Nikador is the fact that he wears white, which Nikador also does, according to the information provided via the Tides of the Basin.

But if Phainon won't get Nikador's divinity, then who will?

Well, the game basically shoves the answer in your face; Mydei. He's the prince of Castrum Kremnos, he has some manner of bloodlust, and he has no reservations about using violence as a means to an end. On paper, he's the perfect candidate, which Phainon states to Aglaea. However, Mydei has refused the Coreflame. He has done so implicitly, as well as explicitly, to both Phainon and Aglaea. He doesn't want the Coreflame, nor the divinity that comes with it, because he's afraid of leading his people down the same dark path as his predecessor. Seemingly, the only reason he wanted to deliver the final blow to Nikador was for bragging rights.

Thus, something has to change drastically for Mydei to not only be offered the Coreflame, but to accept it. What this will be, I have no idea, but it will start with Nikador spitting Phainon back out without making him a demigod.

And if that wasn't enough to convince you; they are literally associated with these Titans in-game:

In their respective entries in Amphoreus' Saga of Heroes, Phainon is depicted with the symbol of Kephale, whereas Mydei is depicted with Nikador's. Whether this is an oversight on hoyo's behalf or a not-so-subtle attempt at foreshadowing, we will likely never know, but it's interesting food for thought.

Now, this isn't some earth-shattering revelation, nor is it some super deep character analysis, but it will be super interesting to see Phainon's story unfold. His character development has the potential to be some of the best stuff hoyo has ever written if they manage to pull it off. 

[tigreblvnc]

BLUE LOCK MATCHUP EXCHANGE — @kittywhoo

Your match is...

— Chigiri Hyoma

✦ It was a match I didn't see coming!

✦ At first, I thought of a particular character, but they were on your no-no list.

✦ So my second choice was split between two other characters. I'll talk about them at the end of your match.

✦ The result: I don't often match the red panther, but I think he's a very good fit for you.

✦ He shares several common traits. The first being a strong appreciation for beautiful things, finery, determination, and then injury, which we'll also revisit.

✦ "I like it when people are smart, or when people are good things wether i be naturally or from practice. I dont like simple minding people, i cant keep a conversation engaging with them. I like people who i can have a light banter with! Id like my partner to be competitive (to an extent)" This paragraph 100% screams Chigiri—he's clever, capable of dramatic turnarounds on the field, and above all, he's repeatedly proven that even a knee injury won't stop him from becoming world number one, showing the phases of success, downfall, despair, resignation, recovery, and breakthrough. If I quote the Egoist Bible: "He thinks his strong point is that he's proactive when it comes to things he likes or wants to do." Which 100% matches your energy.

✦ Chigiri is also known for his sarcastic tone and the jabs he throws at his opponents on the field. That said, he knows how to stay calm, even composed, when the situation demands it, putting other people's thoughts back in order. I can see him being the type who lets your anger explode without flinching, then helps you calm down by reasoning with simple but concrete arguments.

✦ He helps you channel your anger into energy to reach your goals. One of his love languages for me is 100% quality time: he'll spend time with you when he senses you need it, even if you haven't asked for it. He's particularly good at picking up on signs and gathering clues to understand when you need company or need time for yourself.

✦ He's someone you can reveal all your different sides to without any judgment. He has a certain sensitivity, be it artistic or emotional. Having gone through a few difficult trials himself, he understands your moments of doubt or emotional lows with ease.

✦ Totally the type to think about buying you a little trinket on his way home from work. I don't see him being too forward though—he'll just push the wrapped gift towards you with averted eyes.

✦ "Here, this made me think of you."

✦ Shopping trips together, what else? You'll spend your entire Saturday afternoon doing that. He likes to stop by the bookstore to search for the latest trendy novels or niche literature.

✦ One of the things he likes most about you is your ability to face adversity head-on. It's actually inspiring to him. You're on the same wavelength, and I can see you both spending hours complaining together about people you can't stand.

✦ When it comes to showing affection, if you're more direct and demonstrative, for him it's more subtle—through small acts of care or when he tries to make something annoying in your daily life easier. His second love language is definitely words of affirmation; he knows just the right words to uplift you and help you stay strong when you're going through a rough patch.

✦ I also think this is the love language he enjoys receiving. Chigiri really doesn't like showing his weaknesses in public; he'd only share his feelings with someone he trusts. No need to add that you are that person, and he even tells you about his dreams from the previous night. Sometimes, you both push back your bedtimes because you're talking non-stop.

✦ 100% the type to handle the boring household chores to lighten your load.

✦ Of course, he'll pretend it's nothing when you come home, reading a book in the living room.

✦ "I dislike it when people are unhygienic." I think Chigiri is one of the cleanest characters in the Blue Lock roster—he enjoys perfuming the room and combing his hair after a shower. Count on him for a well-kept house and nice decoration. He's possibly one of the characters with the greatest artistic sensibility and the most care for his appearance. Just for the sake of the quote: "The first thing he washes when in the bath is his forehead to avoid getting pimples there." and we can't forget about this one: "He spends his days off reading, taking long baths, and caring for his body."

✦ Also, for me, Chigiri is a very respectful guy off the field, polite, and speaks kindly to those who aren't trying to start trouble. I think he's the type of boyfriend that parents love to meet and get to know.

✦ One day, he teaches you how to play soccer with him, and don't worry—he won't pretend to go easy on you.

✦ In the evening, I can totally picture you two trying out trendy new cafes that just opened and chatting about your respective days over tea. Among all the characters in Blue Lock, I find Chigiri to be one of the few who can hold deep conversations on topics other than soccer. He has a very calm and attentive side that he allows himself when he's not on the field, and he dedicates that time to support you in your goals. In fact, he really admires your strength of character and your ability to push forward.

✦ Overall, you complement each other well while intellectually stimulating each other. Chigiri can be someone who's irritated and quick-witted, so hard to reason with, but as I've mentioned earlier, you're there to help him calm down. I don't see you both getting angry at the same time; more likely, you’d be the calm one to help soothe the other during a tough moment.

✦ He's totally the type to accompany you skiing, and I can see him snowboarding. About your ski injury, it immediately made me think of Chigiri and his soccer injury. I'm sure, in this regard, you both understand exactly how the other feels.

✦ And because it makes me think of a chalet during the cold season, Chigiri is totally the type to prepare the house for your arrival in the evening, with candles, ambiance scents, and a healthy meal he's cooked himself. All of this in front of a cozy fireplace with a good book on his lap.

✦ A final quote that makes me think of you both: "His favorite season is winter because he enjoys drinking tea and eating sweets while sitting under a kotatsu."

A word about your match: As I mentioned, I had thought of another character—two other characters, actually. The first being Yukimiya, who, reasonably, would be perfect to balance out your tendencies toward anger. The second was Hiori, who has a similar calm and observant temperament to Yukimiya. But I feel like he lacks the sharp wit that Chigiri has, in addition to having the traits you like in someone: ambition and a sense of aesthetics. I hope you liked this match, and thank you for reaching out to me for this matchup exchange!

© TIGREBLVNC 2025 | INTERESTED IN A MATCHUP EXCHANGE? CHECK THIS.

[zolica-ao3]

pirate au fic has me SAT‼️‼️😍😍😍 i actually have gone back to read the snippet you posted like four times (i had to seach for it specifically every time) because it has a different kind of swag on god i will be there on the 4th the way i am so appreciative of your writing AS WELL AS this fic specifically should be studied because i am eating that UP‼️🗣️ if this fic has 0 people anticipating its release i am dead you are doing the citizens of landoscar a great service (not that id ever want to make you feel pressured or whatever else is not very good 💖🙂‍↕️)

This ask made me kick my feet and giggle happily! 😊 I'm glad you like it so much! Thank youuuu! <3

I hope the first snippet doesn't make Lando look like some sort of dark guy, because he is actually super sweet. Oscar needs some time to believe it though. Honestly, in this story, Lando is pining like hell and it takes Oscar ages to figure out his feelings. It's a fluffy slowburn with lots of angst.

I can't wait to show it to you all. This thing is massive...

I'm 36K words in now. And I'm not done yet. I hope to finish it before the deadline (4th of Feb), but I highly doubt it, so I will probably be cutting it in parts.

Have another snippet for now! The last one until the release on the 10th of February:

----

Lando swings the backpack over his own shoulder. “Come on, let’s bring Charlotte her stuff. And then you’re going to go rest until we’re leaving port.”

Oscar is about to protest, but the Captain raises his eyebrows at him. The swordman closes his mouth, seeing the warning for what it is.

He follows the Captain to the common room, where they find Charlotte. She looks up from the wooden compass she is carving.

“And he’s alive! I told you he would be fine,” the blond woman says. Lando puts the backpack down on the table in front of her.

“He is injured and you let him go out,” the Captain grumbles. Oscar grimaces at the frustrated tone in his voice.

“He said he was fine,” Charlotte says.

“And you listened?” Lando grits out.

Oscar doesn’t like the charged conversation. Charlotte didn’t do anything wrong. If the Captain is angry at him, he should lash out at Oscar, and not at Charlotte.

He places a hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Please don’t be mad at her… She told me not to go. I persuaded her…”

The tension bleeds out of the Captain, and at the same time he freezes. “I- you-” His shoulders sag in defeat. Charlotte is staring at them with wide eyes.

And then Oscar realizes he touched the Captain without thinking. He takes his hand off and awkwardly hangs it by his side. He didn’t mean to do that.

All the anger is suddenly gone from Lando’s body. It’s interesting to watch the change in behavior.

“I’m getting a snack,” he says with a tight voice, before leaving Oscar and Charlotte behind to go to the kitchen. The swordman watches him go with a confused frown.

The blond woman giggles.

Oscar sits down opposite of her. “Is he alright?” he asks Charlotte softly. “He’s just having a little crisis. He needs a moment,” she says with a smile.

---

The tales they tell about us - WIP - part of the Landoscar Fest 2024-2025. Prompt: Pirate AU

[darklinaforever]

Like @skywalkr-nberrie said it very well :

Themes, metaphors, symbolism, etc. it’s part of art and literature. And gothic horror always speaks in the tongue of metaphors. Orlok saying “he cannot love” is just a metaphor for his demonic nature but his follow statement is the very contradiction in his words when he tells Ellen “… yet, I cannot be sated without you.”

So saying that Orlok can't love Ellen because of that line in particular is very stupid since since it is immediately contradicted.

And don't tell me that it doesn't necessarily have to be a romance, damn the film in its relationship between Ellen & Orlok is full of reminders of Wuthering Heights and Beauty and the Beast in terms of inspiration, and it's not for nothing.

In short, saying that this sentence about not being able to love is the ultimate proof that cannot be contradicted (while there is a contradiction of this statement in the rest of the dialogue anyway... people are stupid) on the fact that Orlok does not love is once again ridiculous.

Just like saying that Orlok saying that he is just an appetite and nothing more is the other proof that he couldn't love. Because :

This sentence probably refers to Ellen herself.

Yes, Orlok is a vampire whose thirst can only be quenched by Ellen, and he is a being originally made to consume life according to Von Franz's description (but that doesn't prevent the romantic ambiguity from being present as the film itself show it, and its team and its creator explain it very well) but beyond this very obvious aspect of the sentence naturally attached to Orlok (since he is the one who says this sentence while speaking of himself), well I think that it mainly refers to Ellen herself on a symbolic level.

Ellen and Orlok are constantly mirroring each other in the film, sometimes down to the nearest shot, as if they were one and the same being.

I would dare say, the same monster.

(Knowing also that Orlok would not exist either as vampire without Ellen who is the one who woke him up)

The film goes even further with the fact that we know that Orlok sometimes took possession of Ellen's body (since he expresses himself through her in front of Von Franz) and that yet he will explain to her (when she tells him / reproaches him for being the one who crawled into her body like a snake) well no, it was not him, but her nature that she denied.

It is very telling because we understand in fact that Orlok is Ellen, or at least an intrinsic part of herself but that she rejects.

Then when we delve into the more in-depth analysis, we understand that what Orlok represents in Ellen are precisely the parts of her repressed by society ; her ardor, her passion / her sexual desire, etc.

Her appetite therefore.

Orlok is only an appetite, in the sense that he represents the appetites (various desires) of Ellen of which she has always been cruelly deprived because judged unacceptable by society.

And I find it ironic that people use the fact that Orlok says he is an appetite and nothing more to justify the interpretation that he could never love Ellen, much less romantically ; Knowing, precisely as we have already established, that he in fact embodies Ellen and her desires, and therefore in reality her appetite, and that wanting to be loved is in fact part of Ellen's desires.

But she wants to love in a way that society does not deem acceptable. With too much passion.

She has an appetite for that too.

So in fact, this sentence proves rather the opposite of what the antis would wish ironically.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Devil's Night: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: Halloween makes its way around again, and you and Spencer are preparing for the best holiday (according to Spencer). He keeps you busy with decorating while he makes arrangements of his own, arrangements that will completely change both of your lives for the better.

Season Six Masterlist

Author's Note: I know Devil's Night is usually the night before Halloween, but for the sake of this rewrite, Devil's Night is the weekend before.

x

"If an injury has to be done to a man, it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared." - Niccolo Machiavelli

October is special for two reasons: Spencer's birthday and Halloween. Spencer's birthday was last week but the team was on a case so you really couldn't celebrate. That doesn't mean you didn't sneak out of your hotel room and give Spencer mind-blowing sex that night. Derek and Emily roomed together to allow you and Spencer to be together. You just haven't had time to celebrate outside of that. It's why you're going to plan something for this weekend because next weekend is Halloween.

Spencer did most of the decorating in the apartment, littering it with Halloween decorations, fake spider webs, fake blood stickers, and other creepy shit. Halloween is Spencer's time of the year while yours is Christmas. You can't wait to decorate the apartment for that holiday. You walk into the kitchen, push aside the spiderweb that's hanging on the corner of the doorframe, and head to the coffee machine.

You're in the middle of pouring Spencer's cup of coffee when you feel arms snake around your waist. His lips find the expanse of your neck, and you roll it to the side to give him more access.

"Good morning," he mutters.

"Good morning." You turn and wrap your arms around his neck. "Happy birthday, baby."

"My birthday was last week."

"I know. I just need to say it before our big event this weekend."

"Which is what?"

"Like I'm going to tell you and ruin the surprise." You lean up and kiss him. "So, how does it feel being thirty?"

"I'm twenty-nine."

"Same difference," you giggle.

He kisses you and pushes you against the kitchen island. If you continue, you're going to be late for work and the last time you were, Hotch almost had your heads.

"We can't be late again or else Hotch will kill us."

"It'll be worth it," he mumbles as he kisses down your neck.

"Spencer," you moan. "Come on, we gotta go. I promise we'll have time for this later." He pulls away from you, and you finish with both of your coffees. "So, is your costume ready for next week?"

"Yes. Is yours?"

"Of course. I'm excited. I've never been to a party thrown by Rossi. I hear his house is huge. It should be fun!"

Rossi threw one last year but you weren't able to make it. Everyone on the team is invited including their families and a few other people Rossi knows. You're excited to show off your costumes since you and Spencer are dressing up as Jack and Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas since it's both your favorite holidays rolled into one movie. Even Hotch and Jack are going since afterward, they will go out Trick or Treating with JJ, Will, and Henry.

Before you two can walk into work, Spencer pulls out a transparent mask so he can scare whoever will be his first and only victim. Emily passes by as soon as you walk through the glass doors, and she laughs at the mask instead of fearing it.

"Please don't tell me that's your Halloween mask for next week."

"No, it isn't."

"What are you two doing this weekend?"

"We're going to celebrate Spencer's birthday but that won't take the whole weekend. We'll probably prepare for trick-or-treaters after Rossi's party."

"The cool thing about Halloween is that it's a uniquely American holiday." Spencer takes off his mask and walks with you two to the briefing room. "I mean, despite its obvious origins in the Celtic Festival of Samhain and the Christian All Saints Day, it really is a melting pot of various immigrants' traditions and beliefs." You three walk into the briefing room where Rossi and Derek and they see the look of faux annoyance on Emily's face. "It became a little more commercialized in the 1950s with trick-or-treating, and today it rivals only Christmas in terms of popularity."

"All I asked was what they were doing this weekend," she says and sits down.

"I'm toying with the notion of either going to the Edgar Allan Poe Shadow Puppet T or the reenactment of the 19th century Phantasmagoria."

"I don't want to know," Rossi shakes his head.

"Oh, yeah, you do." You love it when he speaks so passionately about things. "Phantasmagorias are these amazing pre-cinema projected ghost shows invented in France, where the showman attempted to spook the audience using science magic." Penelope walks in with files in her hands. "It just so happens that I have an extra ticket."

"Reserved for me, no doubt," you grin and kiss his cheeks.

"Guys, I wouldn't have to worry about losing my feminine curves if you all paid more attention to all the trees we're consuming around here," Penelope says and passes out the files.

"When did you become an eco-freak?"

"Baby, I was born green."

"You're going to Detroit. Arson investigators have noticed a three-year trend in the week leading up to Halloween. Devil's Night. This unsub is only killing the week before Halloween every year."

"How's he doing it?"

"He's burning his victims alive," Hotch answers. "He's abducting seemingly random people and dumping their bodies in abandoned parts of town. He struck again last night."

"Yeah, Tony Torrell who was forty. He lives in the suburbs but he was found twenty miles away in the Rivertown District," Penelope says.

"He's attacking the city at its most vulnerable time. What does he do during the rest of the year?"

"He's dormant."

"You know, arsonists are typically white males between seventeen and twenty-five who can't stay away from fire. They're addicted to it, there is no rehab, and they target dwellings, not people," Spencer explains.

"So, you're saying he burns his victims alive but he's not an arsonist?"

"Fire is simply his weapon, and Devil's Night gives him the perfect cover to kill."

"Seeing how the week is almost over, he's got forty-eight hours before he disappears again."

"His last victim was athletic. He wouldn't be easy to subdue. The offender must be just as strong or might have an upper hand if he's younger."

"Still, how does he transport his victims across the city and get them inside buildings without being noticed?" Emily asks.

"That's for us to figure out. Wheels up in twenty."

Once everyone is on the plane, the pilot takes off, preparing for the two-hour flight.

"I thought Devil's Night was Halloween Eve," Emily says.

"The moniker 'Devil's Night' is somewhat deceiving. In Detroit, it's actually a week citywide cultural phenomenon complete with masks, chaos, and costumes."

"It sounds like Mardi Gras if it went on longer."

"Yeah, a violent one. Vandals and amateur arsonists literally set hundreds of fires. It's devastating."

"Who burns their own city?" Rossi asks.

"It started as pranks in the 1930s but escalated in the 1970s with disenfranchised youth. Given today's economy, it's a free-for-all. They've got record-breaking unemployment and foreclosures leaving a lot of displaced, desperate people. Every single one of these victims suffered unimaginable pain," Spencer explains.

"I'm sure that's what gets him off, watching them burn."

"It gives him power and control. The top of the list is first responders--firefighters, arson investigators, cops, and paramedics. Civil servants with a hero complex all of whom will be helping us."

"This guy is angry... I don't think I've ever seen a level of burns like this. Have you seen the pictures?"

You hate looking at pictures of burn victims. Those are the ones you can't help. Your abilities are useless when it comes to fire. It burns through everything, including energy. You feel totally and utterly helpless.

"Extreme anger usually manifests from a quick temper but this guy is patient. I'm gonna ask Garcia to notify us the minute that someone's reported missing."

"A victim a day... That's seven victims every year while he plans the rest of it."

"There's a flaw in his plan this year. We know about it. Alright, Prentiss, Y/N, and Morgan go to the crime scene. Dave, Reid, and I will go to the morgue."

"I'd like to go to the morgue if that's okay," you say. "Fire burns through energy. I won't be able to do much at the crime scene. I might be able to get more off the body even though it is burned. It was still a human."

"Okay, Reid, go with Prentiss and Morgan."

You leave the plane with Hotch and Rossi to the Detroit Fire Department headquarters since they are in charge of the operation. The fire chief, Al Garner, waits eagerly for your arrival.

"We're stretched as it is, but we've set up a joint task force with the Detroit PD to catch this guy. I'd say don't profile me, but you're in a roomful of suspects, right?"

"A city full."

"Victims are abducted across every socioeconomic divide. The problem is, we've gotta catch up and we know he's going to be watching this year. We've got three agents on the way to last night's crime scene."

"Great. I'll meet them there. I hope we find something soon. It gets dark early this time of year."

"We're heading to the morgue."

"I hope you have a strong stomach," Al sighs.

A strong stomach isn't enough to have. The body is so badly burned that you can't determine if it was a man or a woman or what color skin the person had. Everything is a charred black. You put gloves on and delicately touch the face, allowing the person's energy to paint a not-so-pretty picture of what happened. Tony, the victim, is dragged through what looks like a warehouse of sorts only to be chained from the ceiling. The unsub throws gasoline onto Tony and lights him on fire without so much as a hint of remorse.

"Was gasoline the accelerant?" Hotch asks.

"Gas vapors collect in a low, enclosed space. When he ignited, those vapors burned down to his bone. We call this a fourth-degree burn."

"There's a fracture on the back of his skull," Rossi notices about Tony. "Was that postmortem?"

"No, it was antemortem bruising. He was struck from behind."

"What's this on his face?" Hotch asks.

"Charred fabric. All of the victims have the same material on them. The fire fused the original garment to his flesh, then burned away, leaving behind these remains."

"He's covering their faces?"

"That's my best guess, yes."

"He doesn't want his victims looking at him even though he wants to watch them die. It could be a sign of guilt or inadequacy," you state.

"Wouldn't a guy like this want to see the terror in their eyes? Instead, he keeps them in the dark."

"He's covering their faces and setting them on fire. It's an execution."

In the past, there used to be six or seven hundred fires the fire department would have to put out on Devil's Night, but the number has gone down drastically to a little over a hundred. The city is reeling from budget cuts so the Detroit Police Department hasn't always been able to patrol the Rivertown District so they recruit volunteers to man the street for them. That adds about a thousand more names to Penelope's list of suspects. You can't rule anyone out.

There's a reason why the unsub chose the place he did to set his victims on fire. It's completely isolated not only from the rest of the world but from the main road. He can beat, torture, and burn someone without anyone hearing it. It happens to be an old engine factory which is massive and medieval. It pumped out more cars than any place in the world but it's now used as a killing ground for the unsub.

Apart from the place where Tony was hung and burned, there is a char pattern on the ground leading away from the post. It's likely the unsub stood there to watch Tony burn. It's not the best vantage point to watch someone burn since there are parts in the way but it is close to the exit, and the unsub needs an exit plan when dealing with fire. Fire is unpredictable and will kill anything in its path.

The only thing is, the fire alarm went off, and Al's men were there in five minutes. However, the unsub was already gone which means he knows the response times for the fire department. This unsub doesn't leave anything to chance so he knows exactly how long he gets with his victims. He either knows response times personally or he listens for them over trial and error.

Derek, Emily, and Chief Al aren't back yet so you decide it's the best time to grab a. cup of coffee. The break room is in the back corner, isolated from everything else. There are glass walls that people can look through but you're not worried about it. You pour yourself a cup when Spencer walks into the break room.

"Hey, baby."

"Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, what's up?" Spencer waits for you to set your coffee down to take your hands and turns you to face him. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is more than okay," he grins.

"Then why are you so nervous? You're making me nervous."

"Listen, I've been... I've been thinking about this for... wow, a while. Well, I.. I only got the courage to do it now. But it's been on my mind a while now..."

The door to the break room opens and Derek pops his head in.

"Reid, Y/N, let's get started."

"Right. We can talk later, right?" you ask.

"Yeah," Spencer stutters.

You leave the break room with your coffee and Derek looks at Spencer in disbelief.

"Were you gonna do it now?"

"Is that wrong?"

"Kid, she deserves something a bit more than a random break room in a random fire department hundreds of miles from your home."

"Right, I'm dumb," Spencer shakes his head.

"No, you're not. You're nervous. She's gonna say yes. Just speak from the heart. Come on."

x

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