#i felt compelled to make this since i fell victim to the night

[zoroshonkingbazonkadonkas]

unfortunately this is based on experience

[timothy-stoker-experience]

S̴e̷e̷ ̶m̴e̵,̵ Timothy Stoker.

Do you remember me? Do you r̵e̴m̸e̸m̸b̴e̸r̵ ̸w̵h̶a̴t̷ ̷I̷ ̴d̶i̶d̵ ̸t̸o̴ ̵y̶o̸u̴?̶ ̸

D̶o̷ ̴y̶o̷u̷ ̵r̶e̴m̶e̶m̸b̶e̸r̷ ̵w̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷i̷t̶ ̵f̴e̵e̵l̶s̴ ̵l̵i̵k̶e̸ ̷t̸o̴ ̶b̸u̸r̶n̴?̷ ̸D̸o̵ ̴y̴o̶u̵ ̵r̸e̶m̵e̷m̷b̵e̴r̵ ̵t̷h̸e̵ ̵m̸o̸m̵e̶n̵t̵ ̸y̵o̷u̷ ̵g̶a̸v̷e̶ ̸u̴p̴ ̵o̵n̵ ̸y̵o̶u̴r̵s̴e̵l̶f̷?̴ ̷O̴n̷ ̷t̷h̵e̷ ̵w̵o̴r̸l̷d̶?̴ ̷

̴̷C̸a̸n̴ ̵y̵o̴u̷ ̶r̵e̴m̷e̶m̵b̴e̶r̷ ̵t̴h̴e̶ ̸s̷o̸u̸n̶d̵ ̶o̵f̴ ̵h̵e̷r̴ ̵v̵o̸i̸c̶e̸?̵ ̷B̸e̷f̶o̴r̸e̸ ̸y̵o̴u̷ ̴f̵o̸r̵g̴o̴t̵ ̸h̵e̸r̸ ̶f̴a̴c̷e̶?̶

S̶̟̭͗͛Ē̶͈̹̝̂̽̕Ĕ̷̬̈́ ̵̘͔͖̓̈M̴̘̄E̸͔̓̈́.̷̼̫̥͐͠

I remember you.

I remember when everything became even worse than it already was because of you. I remember how your lack of trust and paranoia ruined any semblance of friendship we shared. I remember the night vividly, a night no one could truly know, and I remember the last time I looked at you. I remember hating you as my finger danced around the button of the detonator before ultimately pushing it. I remember the intense, searing pain of an explosion caused by my actions, actions that I felt compelled to take.

I remember the moment it all fell apart. The minute we were attacked at the Institute, and the way I’d almost fallen victim had she not been there to intervene. How it didn’t matter because I never saw her again after that. How none of it mattered at all after that wretched man revealed how we were all bound together through abhorrent means. How it felt like none of it’d mattered since that night at the Covent Garden Theater’s replica. How I’d given up long before we last saw each other, and how pushing that button was the first time I’d felt in control of my destiny in a long, long time.

Her face, and her voice… I remember them in blips, but only in passing moments. I remember I liked her. I remember, after we recovered from the attack on the Institute, that I felt the same awful pit in my stomach as I did when I’d lost my little brother. I remember not trusting it, and how much I’d come to regret that choice in time, when she was no longer there. And how freeing the blast from the explosion felt, as though I’d find her in the wreckage. I’d find everyone I’d lost in the wreckage.

I hate that I can’t remember more about her. Yet somehow I remember that you’d given me an opportunity to make a choice, and feeling thankful for it even if we were at each other’s throats prior to that moment. None of that matters, either. I still won’t forgive you for what you made my life become.

I H̳̩̫̗̭̃A̠̮͆T̸̫̳͌̀̀͞E̞̍ TH̵̨̍̑AT̖͈ I̧ S̶͚̆̾ͣ͟͡Ë͘E̻͖̎́ͤͯ Y̵̶̴̓̈͆̅Ȯ̴̙_ͬͅU̓ͥͬͭ.

[mediocre-writerr]

don’t let me let you go [katherine pierce]

katherine pierce x fem reader

requested: Hi! Sorry, can I request a Katherine Pierce x Fem!Reader?

Maybe where reader is a powerful being, well since demons are real in that universe, maybe a fallen angel? Or something along those lines, and they met along somewhere where Kat was still on the run, so they like hooked up but Kat promises that they'll meet again soon and makes the reader promise that they should be safe as well?

And then years later they accidentally meet up at a party, started dating and Kat is actually soft when it comes to reader. Elena and the gang barge into Katherine and Reader doing something fluffy because they were actually hunting down Katherine since they think that Reader is her next victim or whatever.

Thank you in advance!

*not my gif*

So you left.

Katerina Petrova was how you knew her. Still know her at least, she hasn’t really left your mind since then.

And that was back in 1764.

You could feel what she was. She wasn’t human and her compelling tricks made no match for you. She was arrogant like most vampires were, but she slipped past all your defenses and fell in love with her, no matter how “wrong” it was back then.

“Lady Katerina Petrova, this is Lady Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the owner of the great estate. Her family actually passed recently in a terrible sunken ship, somehow Y/N survived.” one of your noblemen introduced the two of you, after you sensed she was a vampire.

She eyed you carefully and you just smiled at her. Before whispering a ‘thank you’ to the man. The two of you embarked into a formal conversation until you were the only ones left in the room.

“So what are you?” she asked, bluntly.

You chuckled softly, intrigued by the beautiful brunette, “You don’t skip the niceties now do you?” you asked.

“Niceties aren’t my thing,” she shrugged.

“Neither are they mine.”

You were snapped out of your vivid memory when Stefan waved his hand in front of you. You shook your head and he just laughed at you.

“I think they’re here.” he whispered. You and the rest of the gang were at Mystic Falls Grill waiting for Caroline to come back to introduce you to someone who has been blackmailing and torturing them for a couple years now.

You recently moved to Mystic Falls and Stefan felt how different you were compared to everyone else. So he confronted you just like every other supernatural you’ve met in the past how many years.

From there he introduced you to the rest of the gang: annoyingly arrogant, yet good looking brother Damon, pretty blonde Caroline, supernatural hunter, yet working with supernatural beings Alaric, selfless, doesnt get enough credit witch Bonnie, and lastly, the one who looked like a split image of the one who got away Elena.

They thought you’d be a great asset to them, seeing how you can see how/when someone dies and how any supernatural being can be killed. Just one of the perks of being a fallen angel. You reluctantly agreed to help them and they want to know your take on how to kill this person named Katherine Pierce.

You lifted up your head to see her. It wasn’t Elena, you knew that for a fact. Because Elena has been here the entire time. Her hair was in looser curls nowadays and her wardrobe certainly changed as well. But it suit her, the confident bold woman you knew, wearing a black leather jacket and jeans.

Her eyes landed on yours and she remained her natural composed self, “Katherine, this is Y/N Y/L/N, she just recently moved to Mystic Falls.”

“So what are you?” she asked, bluntly.

You chuckled softly, your first conversation popping back in your brain, “You don’t skip the niceties now do you?”

“Niceties aren’t my thing.” and you could tell she’s fighting back a smile of her own.

“Neither are they mine.”

After the rest of the day of Katherine picking fights with everyone, but you. You excused yourself to the bathroom while they were pressing Katherine for what she really wants here.

Memories flashed into your kind again causing you to become lost in thought as you washed your hands.

“Goodnight Katerina. Sleep well.” you said, formally at her doorway. You were about to turn back around when she called out after you.

“Y/N, come in please,” she said.

You smiled to yourself softly, as you made your way into her room. You closed the door behind you as you sat next to her on the foot of her bed.

“Do you mind helping me take this off? The zipper’s stuck and I suppose my arms don’t reach that far back,” she suggested.

She looked at you with pleading eyes and you nodded softly. Slowly, unzipping her zipper and you did what you thought you’d never do in your life. Be bold.

You kissed the bare skin that became exposed on her back. She turned her head to look back at you and you could see the lust filling her eyes. She stood up and you followed her movement as the dress fell to the floor like a puddle.

And that’s when she turned you around, repeating the same actions you took. The only thing left on the two of you were the corsets. She cupped your cheeks ever so slightly.

“Are you sure about this?” this was probably the first time you’ve ever seen her gently and soft-spoken, “You’re a very beautiful girl Y/N, many more suitors are worthy of your love. Much more better suitors with their name and money.”

You pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, savoring in the way she tastes. The way her lips were so soft against yours, “What I’ve learned in my entire lifetime on this Earth and being a fallen angel is that falling in love with someone is falling in love with their soul. Not their money or their name, their soul.”

Yet another comforting kiss was pressed to her lips, “And I never found that. Until you, Katerina.”

You thought you were alone as you watched your hands when you could feel a presence behind you. In the mirror you could see her leaning her back against a bathroom stall.

“It’s been a while,” she spoke up and you nodded.

“A few thousand years, give or take.” you joked and she chuckled along with you.

She took a step closer to you, tucking the hair to behind your ears. You mirrored her images, following a step forward. The two of you only a breath apart.

“You kept your promise?” she asked you, moving her hands to cup your cheek. As if she was trying to memorize every little feature. From the way your eyes lit up at the sight of her or the way you were melting under her touch.

It was the morning after you and Katerina expressed your feelings for one another. In a more untraditional, intimate kind of way.

She was singing you a soft song in another language, which you’re assuming is Bulgarian. And the usual confident girl was playing with your hair, looking at your beautiful sleeping figure. She didn’t want to wake you up, but she was unsure if any of the workers were looking for you.

Then there was the fact that she had to go. She didn’t want to leave you, but earlier that night her insight told her Klaus was coming. She had to get as far away as she possibly could. So she pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes fluttered up, smiling at the girl in front of you. But then ultimately frowning when you saw the same frown on her face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly.

“I must go Y/N. I’ve done things, things people don’t like. And they’re coming after me, so we must part ways. For my safety and yours.” she said and you look at her with eyebrows furrowed, “I promise you Y/N, the only I want right now is to lay here with you. Compel all these people and live our immortal lives, but I need to go.”

“Katerina, no,” your voice barely above a whisper.

She kissed your forehead, then your cheeks, the top of your nose, and finally your lips, “I promise you, I’ll find you one day. We’ll be together. But you need to promise me to stay safe. I would like you to be alive and well and waiting for me when I return.”

You didn’t know where this path would lead you. Every other path looked so certain, but this one was blurry. Yet, you nodded, “I promise, I’ll wait forever for you.”

“I did. I’d wait forever for you Katerina.”

She wrapped your arms around you and you did the same, holding the slightly taller girl closer to you. Relishing in the feeling of her touch, something you haven’t felt in thousands of years.

She swayed the two of you back and forth, “How about we go to the place I’m staying at?”

“Right now?” youvasked and she just hummed in response, “Let’s go.”

It probably wasn’t the best idea for you to not answer your phone when you left or to give them a heads up that you were heading home. But the gang became worried when you didn’t come back from the bathroom and Katherine disappeared as well.

But you were fine. You were just in a state of bliss. The way the two of you were just cuddled up in bed. Your head resting on her chest as she just held you, playing with the soft strands of your hair.

You began to fall asleep as she sang you the same Bulgarian song she once sang. Your eyes closed as you focused on her heartbeat and soothing voice.

Until someone came barging in through the door. Your eyes shot back open and the gang was standing there waiting to fight. Except for Bonnie who was shocked at what she was witnessing

Katherine groaned, “Can you all just go away? She’s not in any harm, I swear.”

“Wait. How do you know each other?” Alaric asked.

You knew she would handle this so you just continued to keep lying in the spot without saying a word, “We’ve met before, long before the two of you.” she pointed at the two brother.

“So are you two a thing?” Caroline asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

And you finally spoke up, “Yeah. We promised to wait for each other until we could actually meet again.”

“But she’s an actual bitch!” Damon exclaimed.

“Maybe in your eyes, Damon. But Katerina has a strong beautiful soul who has lost many things. I’m very willing to give all my love to her.” you told them.

All of them looked skeptic like she just compelled you. Until Bonnie finally spoke up, “Whatever you do Y/N, we’ll respect your decisions,” she said and you smiled at her gratefully.

Stefan took a few steps closer, “You hurt her in any way, I will not hesitate to stake you in the heart myself.”

Katerina didn’t say anything. All she did was stare right back at Stefan, “Can you guys please go now? You’re making the room smell like some weird stench.” The gang left much to Damon’s hesitation, “Now where were we?”

You got comfortable again in her strong embrace. She smiled at you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, as she returned to sing the Bulgarian song.

“I love you, my Katerina.” you mumbled, lazily as your eyes fell close.

So you missed the wide smile that formed onto her face and the way her whole eyes were lit up. She hugged you back, tighter than ever, “And I love you, my beautiful soul.”

[thebadboyfanclub]

Protect The Queen Pt.1 (Geralt x Reader)

This is just becoming addictive at this point, I love writing about this cause there are so many different scenarios and possibilities you could write about. Also there might be a part two for this so please let me know if you would be interested in it. Enjoy!

She looked at herself in the mirror once more, it was almost time for her to take her future in her own hands, to rise to the occasion and take back her life. Her gaze fell to the ring she was wearing, it was passed on to her when she married the king of Orkney, she barely had taken a step into womanhood at the time her parents announced her marriage to her, such a shame that she spend such youthful years in a castle with a man that didn't even think about her, it was pure and also embarrassing for (y/n) to look back at her naive and selfless younger self.

“Oh, you are awake”

“I was waiting for you my dear”

She answered to her husband, her voice dripping honey for the first time in years. Their marriage was far from happy, (Y/n) had thought since she was to become his wife he would treat her with kindness, unfortunately that was not the case, he saw her just as a vessel for his children, when that seemed to not happen he fell to the arms of concubines and commoners, making her become this cold, distant wife he deserved. Sometimes she would wonder if maybe she had given him the heir he craved that maybe his behavior would change, that however was crushed by gratefulness she felt for her womb for not bring a child in this loveless household. She would have never forgiven herself if she raised a child that did not see their parents share at least one hug.

“What’s the cause of you lingering in our room (y/n)?”

“To celebrate, here my king”

She offered him the glass of wine she was holding on her left hand, it was filled with his favorite wine. Her husband took it and gave her a puzzled look, whenever he would sleep in the same room with her- which wasn’t often- he would find her asleep.

“What are we celebrating?”

“My birthday dear”

He was left confused at her smile and statement. It couldn’t be, they held a public celebration for her birthday every year, it was protocol for the queen to allow the public in the castle for her special day. The clink of the glasses echoed around the room, she brought the glass to her lips and took a light sip

“Come on dear, drink up. You were never one to shy away from a glass of wine”

She pushed the glass from the bottom up to his lips. He did not understand the cause of all this, yet whatever the case was she was right, the moment he tasted the delicious wine he took three gulps and the glass went from full to half empty.

“Excellent, I’m glad you enjoyed the wine my king, careful,.. the choking will probably start any minute now”

-

“My queen, we have been waiting for you to... rise for so long”

“Perfection takes time”

She answered to her most trusted confident,her coronation was something that would remain in history for centuries, she was adored by the public so when she inherited the crown after her last husband, everyone knew they were in safe hands. That does not mean the rumors did not arise to the situation, the late king was a healthy young man, it was very suspicious how he fell to darkness overnight.

She meant what she told him when she mentioned her birthday, that day she shed away her foolish acts and was reborn, a woman that stood strong in the field of womanhood, ready to take what’s hers whether people liked it or not.

She looked around the room, seeing her people enjoy their night and drink to her name felt so natural to her, she was meant to lead. 

“Excuse me just for a moment, I want to get closer to my people”

“As you wish my queen”

As she started going around at a slow pace she did her best to observe her people, they seemed to enjoy themselves, they acted like the king never existed, like the soil on top of him had been thrown decades ago, she smiled at herself while thinking that she acted in a way her people wanted, pleasing them and herself with just a few drops of that special liquid.

It was then that she noticed the back of a tall man, his long white hair and his armor stood out from the others, she also took note that he was accompanied by a much smaller and probably younger man that was holding a lute. It couldn’t be? The infamous white wolf and his barb at her coronation? 

“What are we doing here Jaskier?”

“Celebrating the queen officially getting the crown after her husbands oh so sudden death”

Jaskier was fascinated by her history, a princess known for her noble nature and beauty, he reminisced of the song he had heard about her, she was the master of horses, the late king had met her when she rode the most stubborn and difficult horse in the royal stable, married to the king at her prime and failing at giving him an heir.

He was surprised she got to kill him first before the late king did, not only that but she is now the one sitting on the thrown after the kings death under some suspicious circumstances.

“sudden death? hmm, I believe the king found out  that his destiny was a woman in a harsh way”

“Every mans destiny is a woman.... Witcher”

As he heard the voice from behind him he turned around to see to whom it belonged to. Jaskier’s mouth formed a big “O” when he was met with the queen, Geralt figured out who she was by the crown sitting on her head. The first thing she noticed was his yellow eyes, she found them so captivating, unique, she had never seen a witcher from up close, it was also just her luck that brought her the most handsome one. 

Geralt didn’t know what to say, he was at her celebration, talking badly about the queen herself, he knew the consequences he just didn’t know if the queen would choose torture or immediate death as the penalty

“Queen (y/n), my apologies, Geralt has had a bit too much to drink, please spare him”

Jaskier might be a bit overly giddy at the wrong time, however that did not mean that what Geralt ha implied could make the queen want his head right then and there. As Jaskier bowed at her, she only let a small smile appear on her lips, softening her features towards the men that both looked distressed, she had to admire that she felt a bit of pride of making the witcher eat his words, judging by his reputation that did not happen every day.

“It’s alright, I know what the people are saying about me, it’s understandable”

“Understandable? Shouldn’t the queen rush to protect her reputation?”

“That’s what kings do when they feel their ego getting bruised, look around you Geralt, what do you see? The same people that have spread those accusations are dancing and yelling “long live the queen”, if anything my new found reputation is more promising”

Geralt was immediately interested, it wasn’t often that a queen would be alright with rumors and of such kind being passed around, as well as taking it as an advantage and being pleased about it. 

“Elaborate please”

“The kings of other towns will hear those rumors, now who would dare come and threaten the woman that killed her own husband for power? Only a mad man would risk coming to my home”

She was smart, cunning. Geralt had met people of royalty and understood exactly what she meant when she talked about fragile egos. On the contrary, she stood tall and proud, took advantage of the people that gave her a new source of power without them even knowing it. The essence of her as a human being could only be described as being royal, a woman of luxury that men would probably kill for just a glimpse of her naked skin

It only made him question the late king, how could he have wronged such a woman? was maybe her standards that were two high? or was it an act of revenge? Geralt felt the need to puff out his chest as an act of bravery, she was a quite tall woman and if you match that with the way she carried herself, it was a death mix, the late king was already one of the victims of it

“You mean that you are going to become other kings destiny?”

“I don’t believe in destiny, what destiny is varies depending on the people you ask, for my parents my destiny was to become an obedient queen and give birth to the heir, a child that shared the same blood with my late husband”

She said mildly disgusted, as a widower she would probably have to grieve, linger in her room and cry behind close doors at the loss of her love. It seems like nobody even noticed how she did none of that, like it was normal for her to through a celebration a few weeks after his death in her name, not only that but the people seemed to love it. Geralt gave her a smirk at her smart and a bit intriguing answer.

“Then what do you think is your destiny”

“To be in charge of my and my peoples future, destiny and fate are nothing in front of the power of a woman”

The way she talked about destiny showed how she truly embodied confidence and stability, she feared nothing, not even her future self, she only relied on her power. As she talked to him he couldn’t help but let his eyes look mostly towards her lips, her painted lips that moved in such hypnotic way, he felt compelled by her.

Jaskier just stood there watching the two people talk like they are long lost friends. The queen so many people felt uneasy just by her presence was now having a casual conversation with the witcher. Geralt was slowly but surely gaining respect for her, she was a woman of power, a woman that used her brain and situations to her advantages and held herself accountable for her future, she was a true queen.

Geralt smiled at her genuinely, he had met her late husband in the past, he recalled him being stubborn and stuck up, raising his nose at others that he thought were less than him. If he was alive there was no way he would find him walking around commoners

“hmmm, Well queen (y/n), I am sure your people will be safe with you leading this land”

“I hope that in the future I can count on you for aid”

“About what?”

“Danger of course”

She took one step closer to him, still keeping eye contact with Geralt. As he took in a deep breath he could smell the scent of lavender off of her, her hair shined underneath the light of the flames and her eyes glistered with confidence and pride, she was the definition of strength, just her look brought Geralt into defense mode, waiting for her words and thinking how should he respond correctly to her before she even opened her mouth. 

The skill of demanding attention and respect so silently was one that the very few of people that did had it were considered blessed, even though he was aware of that skill, still he had yet to meet one... until he met her.

“Loneliness can be an awfully dangerous thing”

She whispered just loud enough for only him to hear, as the other villagers laughed and sang around them, not even noticing that their queen was standing a few inches away from them, as well as being promiscuous to a witcher.

“I would be honored to protect the queen”

“I’m glad you feel that way, I’m sure you could be a great ally for me, geralt of rivia”

-

PART 2 

[firefly-in-darkness]

The Immortal and the Soldier

Characters → Y/N & Bucky Barnes

Summary →  Monsters live in humans, demons within man, haunted with despicable desires. A past never forgotten comes back to haunt Bucky Barnes and Y/N succumbs to her despicable desires.

Word Count → 5.9k (yeah this is a big boy...)

Warnings → 18+, Angst, violence, death, blood, mental health, vampires/monsters, smut.

Beta → the wonderful @princessmisery666​​ // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep and this came into my head so made a couple of notes in a doc and here we are! Oh and it took @fandomfic-galore​, @kalesrebellion​ & @daydream3r-xo​ not even a minute to convince me to post this now...

Undisclosed Location, Italy - 1943

Moonlight cast an eerie blue-grey around the now quiet campsite. The tall trees that had long ago shed their leaves, expelled frightful shadows as their bodies swayed in the cold icy breeze. Roots like skeletal fingers scratching at the earth, clawing their way to the depths, and clinging to their life source.

Y/N pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders, clenching the meeting parts in her fist. The tears had long frozen to her face in the two-minute walk across the camp. Her scrunched expression stretching the icy remnants of her pain, now physical in the breeze pin pricking her cheeks and distracting her momentarily from the ache in her heart.

She focused on her steps, unable to see further than the ground below. As much as the moon allowed, she was able to avoid icy patches and twigs, trying not to make a sound. She crept away from Sergeant Barnes' tent to her own. Away from the man who had turned distant and cruel in tongue after his release from Hydra’s clutches.

Y/N had seen the way he’d eyed Agent Carter, how his sultry smirk had hidden the darkness in his once brilliant blues. She knew he'd suffered, had tried to talk to him tonight, to distract his thoughts but her advances had been unwelcomed and fully discouraged for the future.

James regretted what had happened between them. He'd said so in many ways and confirmed it with his icy glare. Y/N had managed to escape without showing him a single tear. But while she crept away her chest heaved, and she was soon a tumbling mess of sobs at the realisation he was not coming to chase her down, to pull her back into his quarters and wrap her in the warmth of his body.

A shiver ran through her body and she glanced to check her surroundings, all the tents looked the same. She held in a small gasp when there were none to be found. She’d strayed too far; she was no longer in the campsite. The trees denser and darker, and after turning in a full circle there was no path in sight. She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there; didn’t know the route she had taken or how to get back.

A puff of mist formed at each pant, white clouds in the almost-black. Fear gripped her chest, her heart thumped against her ribcage. Panic set in and Y/N scrambled between the trunks and over fallen trees. Her hair caught in the low hanging branches, pulling it out of its once neat style. Stockings soaked to the knee; toes numb in the leather lace-up pumps.

Her mind raced as her feet pounded against the thin layer of snow. She spun around in hope of finding a clearing, a source of light. Anything. The sounds of the nocturnal creatures; howls, hoots and animal cries filled the woodland. Tears rolled down her cheeks while she gasped and spluttered searching for an exit.

She stopped when she could no longer breathe. Preparing to call out for help. Someone would hear her surely. She panted for breath, trying to draw in enough air and calm her panicking brain to be able to shout.

Silence. 

Her ears rang with the sound of nothing, not even the drift of the wind through the previously creaking branches. There was no ruffle of leaves or calls of the animals. Complete silence, an unnerving and fearful sound causing Y/N to hear the blood pumping through her ears.

A crunch behind her. She turned slowly, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she hoped to see a saviour. Even in the darkness and little amount of moonlight, she was able to see the silhouette of a figure; tall and lithe.

As if a spell was cast, she unknowingly walked towards the stranger. A sense of calm washed away the pain and fear that clung to her heavy heart with each step. The shadow stepped out into the stream of moonlight; the stranger had high cheekbones, set on a razor-sharp jaw, framed by long dark hair.

Y/N was rooted to the spot while the creature circled her, a predator, and its prey. Wide eyes, unblinking away from hers until they were no longer in view. Her heart hammered in her chest, the calm disappearing into a panic. Monsters lurked in the dark, under the bed and in closets. Monsters lived in humans, demons within man, haunted with despicable desires. She knew that’s what he was, a monster, she understood the danger, but she remained under his spell.

“Run.”

The snow slipped under her feet, the trees a blur as tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to outrun the stranger. Y/N couldn’t hear any other footfall so darted behind a tree, back resting against it. She tried to calm herself, but nothing helped quieten the panic taking over her soul. 

It was almost silent apart from her laboured breaths. She glanced around the trunk but there was nothing there. Y/N sunk back against the trunk, closing her eyes. Her eyes shot open at the sound of a twig snapping and she was face to face with the stranger.

His red eyes glared while a ravenous grin around perfectly white teeth. The monster lurched forward and latched its mouth onto Y/N’s neck, she felt nothing other than relief. Everything slowed as Y/N fell to the snowy floor, no feeling of the ice seeping onto her clothes, over her skin and into her bones. Heartbeat dropping, as blood trickled down her neck until her world went blacker than the sky above. Her heartbeat stopped. 

Y/N’s eyes flicked open in haste, searching for her bloodied saviour. He gracefully pulled her onto her feet, yet no words passed between them. Only his tongue darting out to clean her blood from his lips. She looked at his fiery eyes, the ones reflecting her own unique colour and for the first time, she felt alive. 

Brooklyn, United States of America - 2024

The bar was upmarket, the kind with expensive drinks and dark velvet decor. The gothic theme was eaten up by the patrons; the black candles melting down various bottles, skulls and ravens dotted around the tables and shelves, and the ornate mirrors adorning the walls. Even the staff fit the part in their costumes as they waited on the tables and served cocktails in ornate goblets; the ones that looked like they were made in a laboratory rather than a bar.

Bucky couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and it had nothing to do with the bar’s theme. There sat on a stool at the end of the dark wood bar, Y/N was talking to the barman. Of all the places he’d been, all the time he’d been alive, he never thought he’d lay his eyes on Y/N again. 

His mind flurried with memories of the past; soft and tender moments sullied by his demons on full display that frightful night he’d finally returned to camp from Hydra’s grasp. His words echoed around his head; he’d never forgotten them. He dismissed her from his tent, full of rage at Hydra and anxiousness for his future. Let alone the future he could provide for Y/N. 

Regret and shame had stopped him from following her out into the camp, rooted to the spot on his cot bed as if by some supernatural force. Bucky had overheard the hushed whispers of the other nurses, but they always kept an eye out and stopped as soon as they noticed his presence. 

He hadn’t seen Y/N since that night, hadn’t expected her to look for him either, she respected herself and that was one of the many things he had admired. And now, eighty years later, it was as if magic had brought back his angel. 

The woman’s style was different from that of the forties, but it was unmistakably Y/N. It must be her. Or was it just Bucky’s guilt and mission for redemption causing the hope fluttering in his chest as his eyes remained transfixed on the ethereal beauty at the bar. 

Y/N’s face hadn’t gained a single wrinkle, her skin was flawless. She had darker eyes, yet it still held that glint of sass and taunt that he had once adored. It must be her, who else could it be? A descendant? Maybe she left Italy and settled down, started a family?

Bucky shook his head, an attempt to drown out the voices getting louder in his thoughts and joined his fellow Avengers in the veiled VIP booth. He tried to enjoy their company and the drinks that kept flowing regardless of his tolerance, but he couldn’t keep his thoughts quiet and his eyes continued to wander across the room.

A past long forgotten had come back to haunt and consume his thoughts with a compelling game of ‘what if…’. It would be a miracle if it was Y/N perched at the bar. But what if it was all a trick of the mind, an apparition, a spectre. A remnant of Hydra’s control triggered by something he was unaware of. 

It was nearly a century ago, and, well, how had she survived this long without a blemish or sign of ageing? And if she did know who he was, would she know about him? The soldier, the weapon he was made into, the broken ghost of a man she once knew. 

Physically, Bucky was no longer in Hydra's grasp and the triggers no longer affected him. But mentally, he would never forget Hydra or the Winter Soldier; what they did to James Buchanan Barnes and what he did for them. He remembered every victim, every intimate way he tortured and neutralised targets without question.

Was this woman an omen in the disguise of a miracle? A new technique for Hydra to get into his head, to break him, to control him again.

Questions and memories were quashed as the next round of drinks were provided. The group continued to bond, as per their boss’ request. Revisiting Brooklyn was on his long list of ventures after Shuri finished removing the trigger words, but then he got sucked into the soul stone only to be brought back to fight another war.

Bucky’s thoughts drifted to the dame that had captured his heart during a different war, a different era. The very similar-looking woman, still seated at the bar, sipped her drink, and batted away unwanted attention with a simple shake of the head or her leather-clad hand. 

It was late October, but it wasn’t that cold yet, and being inside shouldn’t have warranted that attire. Though, they looked expensive. Unless it’s a fashion statement, Bucky scoffed and flexed his visible Vibranium fingers. You once did the same thing; to hide.

Luckily, from his spot, she couldn’t see him as he peered through a gap in the black lace curtains of the closed-off area. She was fond of the barman, he continued to return to her end of the bar and immediately scared off the patrons in her vicinity, they continued to talk and laugh with one another while he made the concoctions listed on the extensive cocktail menu.

It is her. Bucky’s heart thumped against his chest, blood pumped adrenaline through his body as he noticed the way she laughed, how she tucked a loose strand of hair back in place and as she sipped her drink and her lips curled around the glass.

Bucky ignored his teammates' conversations, he was completely enraptured by Y/N. Unsure of whether to go over and talk to her or to watch from a distance, to get indisputable evidence it was her. The woman turned towards the VIP area, looked straight at him, and nodded to the seat beside her. 

He downed the vodka, the spirit scratching at his throat, out of habit and not to give him Dutch courage and left the VIP area. He ignored the jeers and whistles from his fellow Avengers. His body hummed with uncertainty and excitement. A nervous twitch sent his hand through his locks, his fingers flailed at his neck at the sudden reminder that it was not shoulder-length anymore.

Y/N had spotted James the moment he stepped through the doors, the mirrors behind the bar had given her the best position to scope out the venue and its patrons. Her body tensed at the sight of him, only easing as his smile grew and he walked along the parallel wall with a group of friends.

Even though she had looked away, Y/N had felt his gaze on her and couldn’t help but almost mewl at the thought of him recognising her. The potential conflict going through his head was whetting her appetite for destruction. 

Of course, she knew exactly who he was, who he had become. Unbeknownst to him, she’d crossed his path several times over the last century. She knew all about his time as Hydra’s fist, his escape and subsequent time as a fugitive, and even later in Wakanda where she’d slipped past the advanced technology without detection. Their defences were good, but they were only ever fearful of living enemies, they didn’t know to look for the dead.

She had been curious, he was alive and well, and hardly aged. Admittedly, at first, she was jealous that he had found a way to live beyond his years without the same insatiable thirst for blood she had. But as she watched him from afar, she realised the monsters that he battled daily were penance for his type of immortality.

There were moments that she’d considered freeing James, save him from the curse set upon him by Hydra. But she knew that no amount of compulsion could completely shake the things that they had done to him. It was deeper than the surface levels that a young vampire could manipulate. Eventually, she hadn’t needed to when she came across his familiar scent in Africa, tracking it down to the hut in the hidden kingdom.

Y/N had kept tabs on him once the demons had been removed from his mind by the Wakanda Princess. The years that passed had done nothing to quell the scorch of his rejection. She had bided her time before making her presence known. A cunning smile adorned her ruby red lips as she heard his approaching steps, even over the now heavily crowded bar.

“Old’ Fashioned, please. And whatever the lady’s having.” James’ voice hadn’t changed, he was still a Brooklyn boy, even after all these years.

“Cosmopolitan,” Y/N responded with a wink at the bartender which didn’t go unnoticed by James though she turned her body towards him. “And may I ask the name of the person that has offered to buy me a drink?”

“You don’t know who I am?” James smirked, yet Y/N could see through his facade. He had a soft blush on his cheeks and the confident attitude was a mask.

Y/N’s eyes widened, and brows raised at the response, “That sounds a little pretentious don’t you think? Thank you,” she nodded to the bartender and lifted her drink in the direction of James before sipping at the pink liquid, “And to you.”

James handed over the bills and leant against the bar, his Vibranium hand swirling the golden liquid, “It’s Bucky. Well, James. But my friends call me Bucky.”

“Nice to meet you Jam-” 

“-I don’t mean to sound rude,” James interrupted, “but you look very familiar, have we met before?”

“I assure you that we haven’t, I’d remember someone called Bucky.” Y/N giggled behind the glass while she took a sip. She kept her eyes trained on him, sending a different message to the laughter.

Surely James didn’t believe she was who he thought she was, couldn’t believe she was still alive after all this time. But then again, she hadn’t expected him to be either. 

“No problem doll.” 

His lips met the rim of the glass, but his eyes stayed on hers as she had done to him before. Though his eyes didn’t show any kind of the confidence he once had, he seemed quite the opposite, shy and maybe a little bit embarrassed at the slip of an endearing nickname. 

Yet, the nickname sent a shiver over Y/N’s skin, goosebumps running over her flesh before pooling as butterflies in her stomach. She brushed her hands down the skirt of her dress, removing imaginary lint. An old habit from when she was human; when she was uncertain about what to do next.

The game she was playing wasn’t going to plan. She hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming. She hoped he’d forgotten about her, a distant memory from a dreadful time he’d rather forget. But something must have sparked for him to approach her. Perhaps he hoped to take her home and have his way with her as he had once before, make a new, better, memory of her. 

This stalled her plans, James remembered, and that changed everything. It stopped her from being able to give him hell for how her life changed that night, to break him in ways that would make Hydra seem like playground bullies. She wanted to make him pay for all that she had become.

“Do I get to know your name?” James asked, a slight tilt of his eyebrow as he captured Y/N’s attention once more.

“Y/N.” She offered her gloved hand, which he took in his warm one

Alarm crossed James’ features and at the same time, the shock made Y/N pull her hand away. She had hoped the coldness of her skin wouldn’t penetrate the material, but it seemed where she ran cold, James ran hot. But now that Y/N had felt his warmth, she wanted to feel it against her icy skin. It had only been a small taste, but it was enough for her to want to know what she’d feel like under his touch.

Now that James was in front of her, Y/N’s resolve faltered. The ploy to see him suffer at her hands, to hurt him for how she became a blood lustful beast, was no longer at the forefront of her mind. James enchanted her as if the last eighty years hadn’t happened, a small sparkle in his eye, a crook of his lips and she was once again wrapped around his little finger. 

Y/N kept her face neutral as she watched him study her while they made small talk. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the charade was over, that he’d ask her if she was Y/N Y/L/N. The woman that he had made love to during the war, had spent every second with when he was not on duty, and, ultimately, broken her heart.

“How?” James placed the empty glass down onto the bar, turning to face her fully in the seat.

“How what?” She played ignorant, holding off on bursting this bubble for as long as she could.

Y/N had indulged in James’ presence, her own unbeating heart was no longer aching with him so close. The idea of him leaving once again made her mentally squirm. She’d created a vengeful plan from her pain and was now living in a nightmare of being unable to go through with it.

“Did they get you?” James asked, quietly and softly, his hand covering her own that rested on the edge of the bar.

“No James, they didn’t. But another monster did.” Y/N jaw ticked, and she pulled her hand away, hopping down from the bar and looking straight at him. “Please don’t follow me, you’ll regret it.”

The streets of Brooklyn weren’t quiet, they were filled with chatter, laughter, and music. It wasn’t dark, the moonlight filtered between the buildings and the streetlamps lit the path towards Y/N’s form idly wandering down the block. Bucky kept his distance, Hydra’s training came in handy for some situations, he was sure that she wouldn’t be able to detect him. 

Bucky’s heart raced as he followed Y/N, watching her walk away from him. She was the very same woman that he had never forgotten. The same woman that he’d dreamt of when he was the Winter Soldier. She had haunted him, always in his peripheral vision, slightly out of reach but there in his darkest hours and even when he was tending to the farmlands in Wakanda. 

She did exist, had continued to exist and he was not going to let this be the last time he saw her. He had always known someone was out there, watching him and yet, he’d always thought it was his handlers, Steve, or other SHIELD agents and until recently, his teammates. But now he knew it was her. He just knew, somehow, a sixth sense guiding him, protecting him. Even after all he had done to hurt and destroy this world.

Now that Bucky knew she was alive, he wasn't going to let her slip through his fingers; he would chase her, fight for her. He wouldn’t give up on her as he had before. Bucky needed to know what happened, he wanted answers. But mostly, he needed to atone for all that he had done, it seemed she had left a mark on his soul from a time before he became the Winter Soldier.

Y/N knew James would ignore her request to not be followed. She sensed him behind her. He was too much of a gentleman still; and she could hear the sultry way he’d insist he ‘wouldn’t let a dame walk by herself’. Y/N scoffed out loud at the thought. Walking alone was exactly how she ended up in this ghastly life of an immortal. 

She could have escaped, run away, and he’d never be able to catch up, he’d probably be too surprised at how quick she could move. Something niggled at the back of her mind; a distant voice, an echo of who she once was. The ever increasing voice told her to wait for James and see what he wanted to say or ask her. 

The desperation in that young girl’s voice gnawed at her insides as she reached her apartment. The young, defenceless girl wanted to claw her way out and take over the undead body. To forget the instincts of a vampire and break the rules set by her kind, ignore the boundaries that she had honed over the last century. That girl wanted to run to James and wrap her arms around him and never let go.

Y/N greeted the porter and advised him of the guest to follow, a knowing smile on the man’s lips as she waited by the elevators. James joined her, his body almost touching her arm as she leant forward to press the call button. The atmosphere felt charged with electricity, a hum deep in their bodies and she could sense the desire dripping off them both. She had seduced him, but she felt like a single brush of his fingers against her skin would ignite her very soul. If she still had one, the jury was still out on that.

Silence filled the ascending elevator. Apart from the hum of the machine, James’ anxious breaths and the surprisingly steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Ding.

Y/N led him through to the penthouse, opening the door to an open plan area consisting of lounge, kitchen, and dining area.It was sophisticated and modern, almost unlived in if it wasn’t for the few homely touches; a blanket thrown over the couch, an extensive vinyl and DVD collections and cooking equipment scattered across the kitchen counters and island. 

A pretence for any human that visited unannounced. Even though the visitor wouldn’t remember a thing, Y/N liked the element of surprise, the game of cat and mouse. It was always fun when they realized they had been the mouse all along. 

Yet, it wasn’t the contents of her home that James had been drawn to. He walked towards the floor to ceiling windows, taking in the view of Lower Manhattan and the millions of twinkling lights in the distance. She joined him and clasped her hands together, getting lost in the sight.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Y/N broke the silence, eyes still focused on the buildings in the distance. “Changed a lot since the forties though hasn’t it?” 

“How?” James asked and turned to face her.

“Just to be clear, I did tell you not to follow me and that you’d regret it if you did?”

James nodded with a neutral expression, it was almost believable without Y/N’s abilities to spot the tiny twitch against his right eye and the slight bob in his throat. “As long as you’re not working for Hydra, I think I can handle it.” James crossed his arms over his chest, a slight tone of impatience seeping into his words.

“Very well.” Y/N sighed and walked to the other end of the room and opened the door, “follow me.”

Bucky was impressed by the large bedroom; it rivalled the apartments at the Avengers compound yet there were hardly any personal items; artwork filled the walls, and a few trinkets were atop the furniture. The large windows continued throughout the apartment; the view would be perfect from the bed.

He gulped at the thought of sharing it with Y/N, his heart thumped against his chest while he followed her movements as she lit the candles dotted on the bedside tables and chest of drawers. A warm glow filled the room, and he copied her seated position at the end of the bed and faced her.

Bucky caught her gaze and offered a sweet smile, to reaffirm that he could handle anything that she told him. Maybe this could be an opportunity for him to share his past; his demons and the nightmares that plagued him even while awake. He knew he was getting ahead of himself but with her so close to being in his arms once more, he couldn’t stop the intense spiral of his thoughts. 

She’d always been a confidant, until he was experimented on and tortured by Hydra; he knew that conversation was too delicate for him and he was sure it would make her look at him differently. That was why he let her go, he had become a broken man and words couldn’t fix him.

“Okay, here goes.” Y/N's voice stuttered slightly. She glanced down at her hands in her lap before her eyes came back up to meet his.

Burning red eyes stared back at him, the contrast from her previous colour startled him but he didn’t allow his neutral expression to falter. Bucky knew what he had signed up for and she was being honest with him, he couldn’t let his emotions overrule him. The crimson shine of her eyes made him think of Wanda and what she went through at the hands of Strucker; experimented on, abused, and manipulated by Hydra. 

Had Y/N gone through the same fate? Bucky frowned; Y/N had already said it wasn’t Hydra. Some other monster. He knew that there were variations of Hydra across the world, but his mind blanked at the potential monsters that lurked in Italy other than the ones he had been tortured by.

“You’re not the first person to give me that look.” Bucky chuckled, hoping to ease the tension that had filled the room, “Wanda. Her eyes change to a similar colour but it’s more of a glow around her eyes.” He clarified, “Well, these, they are still your eyes.” Bucky attempted to reassure her that he wasn’t scared because he wasn’t, he could never be afraid of her.

Y/N face twitched, an almost smile on her lips as she nodded and pulled at the gloves on her hands, “This might hurt a little.”

She placed her hand, palm up, for him to lay his own upon hers. Bucky felt a spine-tingling sensation run over his body, yet it wasn’t from her icy touch but the feel of her soft delicate skin against his calloused hand. The gape of her mouth indicated that she was surprised that he hadn’t pulled away.

“I- You’re so-”

“Hot? Yeah, it’s something that I’ve had since.... Well, y’know.” Bucky shrugged, not moving his palm away from hers and wiggled his Vibranium fingers. “And you’ve already seen this. The metal isn’t exactly the warmest.”

Bucky turned their connected hands over and placed the Vibranium one upon hers. Not a single flinch from her body or pity in her red eyes as his metal fingers cupped their hands together. His heart swelled at how she visibly relaxed, a slight drop in her tense shoulders and an almost imperceptible growth in her smile.

“I’m not scared Y/N. I’ve got all these- these abilities, and by the looks of things, you do too. Show me who you are.” He pleaded, he needed to know but he also wanted her to feel safe, that she could rely on him. Even after everything he said to her that night.

“I know who you are James.” Y/N pulled her hands away and stood in front of him, the candlelight flickering across her face as the curve of a smile bloomed. It was as if he was bewitched by her, once again. “You think you’re fast and strong, but you’ve got nothing on me.”

“Is that a challenge doll?” Bucky smirked, a sense of pride filling his chest as Y/N’s personality began to filter through, the sass he’d been on the receiving end of when they first met in the medical tent all those years ago.

“I could get you on your knees with my little finger before you could even blink.” She smirked back.

“Just say the word and I will be.” The flirting comment had slipped out, and he immediately regretted it as Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. The uncertainty washed away as her laughter rang out through the room.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, sweetheart.” Bucky cooed, he could see the uncertainty in her crimson gaze, “how about an arm wrestle?”

Even before Bucky lifted a millimetre off the mattress, he was pulled and twisted onto his back at the head of the bed, lush pillows against his head with Y/N straddled across his lap.

“Okay, you are fast.” He gulped, a view of her breasts, spilling across the neckline of her dress. His hands glided up her thighs and his fingers curled around her hips. “And strong. No arm wrestle needed.”

Y/N didn’t want to terrify James, she didn’t want him to run away either, but she knew that telling him she was a vampire would be difficult. She couldn’t deal with not knowing how he’d react, of whether she could live her eternal life with ‘what ifs’ any longer. 

She’d done her very best to claim him as her own, against the other vampires that had circled him over the last couple of decades; for his abilities as the Winter Soldier, for the serum that pumped in his veins and then there were those that wanted to use him for their own personal desires. Y/N had made sure that nobody could stake ownership of him, and luckily for her, her maker was high up in the council to approve the decision.

Now that he was between her legs, and the feel of his hands as they stroked her through the thin material of her dress, gripping her hips as his groin rutted against her core, a fire burned in the pit of her stomach. She was succumbing to her desires and so was he if the friction of his erection was any indication.

Y/N whispered, “Before this goes, where I think it is, you need to know who I am. What I am.”

James leaned forward, mouth opening but she instantly closed it with her index finger pressed against his plump lips. She shuffled backwards, away from his touch and an attempt to clear her head of the intimate situation, kneeling between his legs.

“James, can you hear my heartbeat?” 

He sat up, pulling her into his lap and he placed his head to her bosom, her fingers subconsciously gliding through his hair. Nothing. He’d hear nothing and she knew this would be the moment he’d run. James looked up at her and she heard the stutter in his heart, then a look of confusion across his face.

“It’s probably better if I show you.” Y/N opened her mouth and let the fangs grow, protruding and denting her bottom lip.

She saw the dilation of his pupils and the flash of something that resembled fight or flight across his features. Y/N had prepared for this reaction, had spent the last several weeks thinking about how to handle it. What she hadn’t prepared for was James’ hand snaking up her arm and to the back of her neck, pulling her down to press his lips to hers.

The kiss was delicate, a mixture of nerves and hesitancy, yet it made Y/N’s body sing with pleasure. James pulled away slightly, looking at her as if she were the most beautiful woman to roam the Earth. 

In an instant, he pulled her back in, a clash of lips, teeth and tongues as the passion grew. Y/N’s hands pulled James’ face closer to hers, she felt every sensation as James’ tongue danced with hers. He loosened his grip on her neck, hands trailing down until they wrapped tightly around her waist, crushing her chest to his.

His hands continued to explore her body whilst her hips ground into his erection, feeling every inch of him through his pants, relishing in the moment while he bunched the skirt of her dress up. A soft whimper fell from Y/N’s lips as he massaged the bare flesh of her thighs.

All thoughts of who he was, who she was and what could happen were forgotten as they collapsed into a tangled mess of limbs; pulling at each other's clothes until they were a naked and breathless between the silky sheets.

A mixture of whimpers and gasps filled the bedroom; bodies intertwined as they both sought pleasure from one another and provided the release of ecstasy. Y/N raised her torso atop James, her nails digging into the warm flesh of his pecs while she chased after her high. 

James gripped her hips and rocked up into her at a fierce pace, the delicious friction melting them both as they reached the peak of their orgasms. He wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist, deepening his intrusion as she shuddered around his shaft.

Y/N burrowed her head into his neck, pressing light kisses to his jaw while her fangs remained on display from the ongoing bliss she felt deep within her darkened soul. They grazed against his pulse point.

“I am yours. Forever.” James’ words drifted through the post-orgasmic haze.

If Y/N’s heart still beat, it would have fluttered at his words. Instead, she pressed her lips to his neck once more, feeling a deeper embrace than before.

Everything Tag List: @reann-loves-sebstan​ / @aroyaldarknessblr​ / @thefridgeismybestie​ / @kitkatd7​ / @harold231

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers​ / @musesforart​

[stories-by-rie]

Chapter 2 - Heart of Silver

Four years before Evelyn gets herself cursed, she meets Ariel for the first time; and a second time, featuring a stinky Mare.

words: 2665 || masterlist

It had all started in a club. It was a tiny one, close to the university, with mostly students working and partying there. For many, it was both a good way to earn a bit on the side, and to get the mind off nearing exams. The music was mostly pop, with some nichey songs in between, mixed in a way where no one could really complain.

    For Evelyn, it simply was too loud. She could feel the bass in her heart. The room’s air was hot and heavy, and smelled like alcohol and sweat. People were screaming over the music, laughing, possibly also being aggressive. 

    Her phone buzzed in her hand.

    Mareike wrote, just leave, come over to mine instead, we’re having chocolate cake and watching old horror movies.

    With a sigh, Evelyn typed her answer, I promised Kyla, I should at least stay a full hour. She held onto her first beer, but people pushed from all sides, so she slipped up anyway and felt the grip on her bottle lessen. Really, in such situations one had to set priorities, so she focused on the bottle, stumbled over someone else’s foot, and saw her phone fall to the ground. Over the loud noise, she didn’t hear it hit the ground, but she flinched nonetheless.

    “Very sorry!” she yelled to whoever she had run into without even looking up, eyes on the ground. As she reached out to it, she saw her hand shaking slightly. Too much noise and too many people.

    Her phone buzzed on the ground, the blue light showing her just where to reach.

    “Broken?” A voice asked and when Evelyn looked at her phone, it indeed had a thin line running through the display.

    “Just the display, I hope. Sorry, again.”

    “No problem. You should have stuck with simple mobile phones, they don’t break that easily.”

    Evelyn finally looked at the person who held a flip-phone in one of their hands, an alarmingly blue cocktail in the other that was only overshadowed by the bright blue of their hair.

    “That’s so 2009,” was all Evelyn could say which was not a good thing for small-talk, but she blamed it on her anxiety or the alcohol.

    “You don’t look like you want to be here,” the person said, tilting their head in a way that made the colourful lights reflect in their glasses for a moment.

    “I really, really don’t want to be here.”

    “Then why are you?”

    “My… my friends are somewhere-” she pointed in the general direction of the dance floor where it was impossible to single out any familiar faces in the mass of dancing people.

    “Ah,” was all the other said. For some reason, Evelyn was certain she was understood despite her stammering.

    “I’m Evelyn,” she mumbled, ignoring the buzzing in her hand again. She wasn’t sure if she would meet the other again, if in any way exchanging names would matter. But she felt compelled to.

    “Ariel. I use they/them pronouns, if you were wondering.”

    Evelyn replied with a smile. She had been wondering.

    “That’s a nice name.”

    “Thanks, I chose it myself.” Ariel grinned and drank a bit of their cocktail.

    And -- really, this could only be blamed on Evelyn’s anxious state paired with the alcohol -- she blurted out, “Ariel as in the Little Mermaid?”

    Ariel nearly choked on their drink and shook their head. “Curses, no!” Even if they looked a bit amused and somewhat quieter, though enough to be heard, they added, “Ariel as in the Sylph in The Tempest by Shakespeare.”

    Evelyn smiled and put the phone in her jeans pocket, held onto the bottle in her hand instead.

    “Why are you here?” she then asked, even if it was probably a dumb question. Most people did come to party after all, but Ariel seemed to have come on their own and at least that was a bit unusual. 

    “I am glad you asked. I heard there’s a Mare living in the air vent in the restrooms. I came to kick it out.”

    “By yourself?” Evelyn nearly dropped her beer again.

    “Well, I hoped I would run into someone who is better with those creature thingies than me, but if this turns out to be fruitless, I am willing to drag the Mare out with my own hands.”

    “Don’t do that! A Mare is much stronger than you and would cling to you instead! You would not even notice, just feel the pressure on your chest and suffer tremendously from bad dreams every night- that’s- that’s really not how you’re supposed to handle Mares!” Evelyn had spoked too fast, stumbled over her own tongue in haste to keep Ariel from making a mistake, and only now that she saw their -- victorious? -- grin, did she notice what she said. It felt as if she had walked straight into a trap.

    “Sounds a bit like you know your fair share.” The way Ariel said it, they did not sound in the least surprised.

    “You knew.”

    “What are you in for again?”

    “Psychology.” Evelyn took a step back, clutching her beer tighter.

    Ariel followed her, narrowing their eyes. “Liar.”

    “I studied Mythology and Mystical Practices before, but I didn’t graduate, so it doesn’t mean anything.”

    “You still have the knowledge, though.” Ariel looked smug, sipping on their cocktail and Evelyn knew that they wouldn’t relent. But it really was not in her place to help.

    “If there is a Mare in the vent, you should notify the building’s janitor, so that they can then call a company that specialises in this. The insurance might not cover the victims’ therapy if the whole situation isn’t handled following the book, so. Please, really, don’t mess with it. Sometimes it’s better to just leave these things alone.”

    Nausea spread in her stomach. It was time to go. She really had indulged her friends for long enough, wherever they might be amusing themselves. Her heart beat in an unsteady rhythm, calling for sleep or distractions. She turned around, looking at the green exit sign, but Ariel kept talking. 

    “I already did notify the janitor, but he didn’t take me seriously. So I then contacted the owner, but he would not even talk to me. That’s why I decided to take the matter into my own hands and you will help me.”

    “I absolutely will not.” The thought alone made her skin itchy, made the air in the club even harder to breathe. She looked down at her phone, several messages demanding to be read. She quickly unlocked it and opened the group chat.

    I’ll head home, hope you still have some fun! Had a nice evening ^^

    To Mareike’s messages of, r u home yet? just send an emoji that ur fine, she replied with a sparkles emoji.

    “I’ll go,” she said, looking up to Ariel, but they were already gone. A hint of guilt crept into her bones – maybe she had been too harsh? But her heart beat so fast it made her cheeks feel hot, so she really needed fresh air. She put down her beer on a nearby table and fought her way through the sweaty bodies until she saw the night sky above her. The summer heat was not much better.

    The second time she met Ariel was roughly two weeks after their first encounter, on campus during lunch time. Ariel was sitting – lounging – on a bench under some birches. The small leaves were barely enough to provide shelter from the staggering sun. Evelyn really just noticed them because their iced coffee fell right out of their hand, rolling all the way down to her feet.

    “You lost something,” Evelyn said and held out the cup to them. She felt more than uncomfortable the longer she stood there, but she had started it now, maybe feeling still a bit guilty for the last time. The lid had kept most of the coffee inside but some of the cold and slightly sticky beverage still dripped down her fingers. Ariel pushed up their heart-shaped sunglasses, their own glasses underneath, and looked at the cup quizzically. Since they had last met, Ariel had gotten deep shadows under their red-rimmed eyes.

    “You look awful,” Evelyn said, forgetting about the existence of her verbal filter.

    “Thanks, it’s the exams.”

    “What do you-”

    “Doing my Masters in Curses.”

    “That’s a thing?”

    Ariel froze a bit and then mumbled, “I am sort of making it a thing?”

    They finally took the iced coffee out of Evelyn’s hand, took off the lid, chugged it all at once and threw it into the bin next to the bench.

    “Sounds very cool. And useful,” Evelyn mumbled and nearly missed how Ariel’s eyes shut again, only for them to flinch back awake. “You seem incredibly tired, though.”

    “It’s the stress, don’t worry. It’s giving me bad dreams, is all.”

    They looked each other in the eyes, communicating silently that they both knew that the other knew. It was Evelyn who finally broke it.

    “You can’t be serious. You really went into that vent to get the Mare alone? You can’t just do that.”

    Ariel just shrugged and let the sunglasses drop down again. “Well, actually I could. It wasn’t even hard. I just climbed from the toilet seat to the air vent – which is much smaller than it looks in movies, by the way – and crawled through it following the snoring sounds. Then I saw the Mare – which was the ugliest thing I laid sight upon so far, by the way – and hunted it through the maze. Just that I kinda lost it after ten seconds or so. I swear I could still hear it, but it was just too dark and I didn’t really think to bring a flash-light. Damn, it really scared the shit out of me, because I kept turning around? But there was nothing.”

    “That’s because the Mare climbed onto your back and stuck to you then. I told you that would happen, but you didn’t listen. So of course you are tired now, you’re haunted by it.”

    “Ah, right. You did say that.” Ariel rested their head on their hand and pouted. “That’s the bad dreams then.”

    “Yeah. Mares eat good dreams, so you only have the bad ones, and more of them to fill the blanks.” Evelyn sat down next to them, a little helpless.

    “I never have good dreams, though. Just weird ones. The kind where a giant slug comes and eats my master thesis and I give it strawberries as a thank. I miss the slug, I used to call it Bob.”

    Evelyn raised an eyebrow at them, uncertain if they were being serious, joking, or if it was the lack of sleep.

    “Well, maybe you will get lucky and the Mare will lose its sanity and leave you alone soon.”

    “That can happen?”

    “No.”

    Ariel groaned and stretched, only to slump down again. “What do I do now?”

    “Hire a company to get rid of it. Just know that no insurance company is gonna cover it, because you dragged the Mare into your bedroom yourself. You basically asked it to come inside.”

    Ariel pulled a face and sighed heavily. “I can’t afford that. Can’t you come?”

    “If you study curses, haven’t you covered mythological practices in your bachelor's too?”

    “Not really. Just in theory. In more practical terms, I already only focused on curses back then. I want to be a curse-broker, so I never bothered with anything beyond ghosts. You seem to be able to, though. You never once mentioned that you wouldn’t be able to help me, just that you didn’t want to.”

    Evelyn didn’t answer. They were right, of course. She had learnt everything she needed to know long before she had entered uni for the first time, growing up as the daughter of the owners of a company specializing on mythological creatures. Studying that at uni was supposed to only give her the licence to work in the field, she hadn’t gained new knowledge at any point.

    “Have you ever considered that I might really suck at dealing with creatures? I might make the situation worse for you,” she then mumbled, staring at the blue sky behind the birch leaves. She said it barely loud enough to be understood.

    “Do you?” Ariel worked through their bag and pulled out two lollies, offering one to Evelyn.

    “No,” she replied truthfully. “I am really bad with curses, though.” She unwrapped the lolly and put it into her mouth. “Curses are more my sister’s expertise.”

    Something in her voice must have betrayed her feelings. The hurt, the anger, the resentment. It was all she had to say to be understood. Ariel stayed silent for a long time as they sat on that bench, letting the lollies turn their tongues green. When lunch break was over, students walked over the campus to different buildings, but they stayed seated. 

    “She’s not dead, tho, is she? Wait! Did a Mare kill her?” Ariel then suddenly asked, their voice a bit shrill that it made Evelyn giggle.

    “Nah, don’t worry. Mares aren’t high class enough to kill you. Maybe the after effect of the insomnia would in due time, but I don’t know many cases in which it went that far,” Evelyn explained and bit on the lolly stick after the sugar had dissolved inside her mouth. “My sister’s fine. She went abroad.” Evelyn then frowned as the trees’ shadows moved with the sun, the bright light blinding her now. They had sat there for a while. “To the USA. I haven’t seen her in a while, it’s been one and a half years.”

    “You were close?” Ariel asked softly. Evelyn heard how they were more serious now.

    “Yeah. I mean. I am pretty sure that I am always closer to people than they are to me. But we got along well. We were a good team. She got this really good research opportunity in Philadelphia though. It’s good she went.”

    “But you still miss her.” Ariel handed her a new lolly with a grin and she accepted.

    “Yeah, I do. Of course, I do.”

    “Hm.” Ariel unwrapped their second lolly as well, eyes still droopy from their accidental nap. “Is she the reason you don’t go in the field anymore?”

    “More or less,” Evelyn started, and the fear of oversharing hit her. But Ariel had asked, in some way at least. “After she left, I tried to make up for the gap she left behind. It did not work out well. I messed up this one job and no one got hurt, but it just reminded me that I was kinda raised into it all and it felt wrong so I left.”

    “Huh. So you dumped your whole study subject?”

    “Yeah. I worked without a license. My parents covered it all up, which just felt even more wrong. I should have had to face the consequences, or at least my parents. I should have gotten banned from field work anyway, so leaving was the only choice to make.”

    “Do you miss it?”

    “Sometimes. A bit.”

    “I have just  the thing. Back at home there’s a Mare that I can’t afford to kick out professionally. It’s kinda stealing my sleep.”

    Without Evelyn noticing, they had come closer, a slightly mischievous grin on their lips. There really was no way to say no to them now. At some point she must have said something close to a yes, because Ariel was dragging her down the stairs towards the town and their apartment where the Mare occupied their bed. Evelyn wondered every now and then if all that conversation had been some detailed plan to lead her into that trap until she followed Ariel home to help them with the creature. But then again, she somehow had also followed Ariel into that new, quite weird friendship between them, so she did not actually mind that much.

----

previous chapter || WIP intro || masterlist || next chapter

[raekahwritings]

A Second Life, Finding Redemption (Shinsou x Reader)

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x Villain!Reader Rating: Explicit, N*SFW Warning: Angst, Murder, Assassination, Fake!Death, Decapitation, Some Smut Word Count: 8,731 Words A/N: This does not have a tragic ending, I can’t bear to write angst without a happy ending.

Summary: You’re a cute coffee barista that Shinsou has feelings for-- and hopefully he never finds out your real purpose in Japan. You are a villain in pursuit of revenge but you wish you could’ve lived a simple life, that you really were the barista you masqueraded as. If Shinsou knows the truth, he would hate you. Or does he? 

From Me: I’m trying to post this in time for @bnhabookclub​ (Antagonist x Protagonist prompt) and I haven’t had time to proof-read this or beta it so please excuse any mistakes or pacing issues. I hope to re-post at a later point but I definitely wanted this out.

Also, inspirations for this work is from @katsukisprincess, @lady-bakuhoe, @iwvs-on-ao3, @bnhabookclub, @/lemonlordleah-shinzawa, @/marilla-eldriana, @/queensynderella.

 Sometimes, there was no other end in sight. You could rewind the moment a million times and try to find something you missed, but it would always end the same miserable way.

“Shinsou, you should know what people think of us.” You idly sat from the rafters of the room, simply a shadowed silhouette to the brain-washing hero Shinsou Hitoshi. He desperately looked but he was lost through the maze of unconscious people talking all at once. “They will never trust people who can manipulate others.” Numerous voices bounced around the room, making Shinsou’s eyes dart back and forth—were you even here, or was it yet another machination?

“Marionette—You don’t need to do this.” Shinsou tried to tempt you away from the shadows, trying to sift through the ‘dolls’ you had set in place. You knew he would be sorely disappointed. You had already known about his abilities and set countermeasures in place.

Shinsou caught an idle movement above him, letting his capture weapon snake up to the beams while imperceptibly turning on his own voice-changing mechanism—but it was foiled. “Don’t try that. You know I wouldn’t fall for something so obvious.” You backed away from even the shadows, dissipating, away from his empty oaths and reassurances. Away from the ignorant and unaware hero. With a flick of your wrist, you dispelled the strings of your quirk and letting the bodies fall to the floor.

Shinsou tried to make his way through the unconscious victims but it seemed like you had no more desire to speak to him—you soon disappeared in a silent farewell. Your dolls soon fell to the floor, crumpling as their marionette master was gone.

This is fucking creepy. When Shinsou had arrived onto the scene, it was eerie at how doll-like everyone had seemed with their glass-like eyes and lifeless motions. But upon his arrival, they had come to life and stalled the young hero.

“She got away again.” He frustratedly sighed. This wasn’t the first and this wasn’t the last time you escaped… But he was starting to get the hang of your quirk; it seemed you had to be somewhere nearby to manipulate people. Shinsou reached down for a child, relieved to discover they were breathing and no apparent harm. But as he garnered a better look – it didn’t seem as if anyone was harmed here.

This was strange; you had been responsible for the killings of several prominent people. A businessman. A minor government official. A doctor. The most notable was a visiting dignitary. This latest incident invoked a sense of international outrage and a greater calling for your arrest. Your signature calling card was a single severed head amongst immobile witnesses who only remembered a blackened haze. Their loss of memory was surprisingly similar to Shinsou’s own quirk which is why he had been called in. So far, the only clue he found was your spider-like wires.

“Hey, get the crew in here. There’s a lot of unharmed civilians who need assistance.” Shinsou radioed the information in and took one last look to make sure it was safe before back-up reinforcements were to arrive.

Strange. Shinsou tried to muse over this information; no one else aside from your victims was ever hurt. It seemed that you were aiming for something awfully specific. Shinsou didn’t know what though….  

That’s how Shinsou found himself in a cat café, sprawled in a chair, and lost in thought. He was currently on-break from the case since the police were investigating the unconscious victims and the link. So far, they seemed to have found none.

“Hello. Did you want a refill on your coffee?” Shinsou looked over and gave you a slight grin—you were his favorite barista at this cat café. Most places served awful drinks, relying on the kittens to draw people in and shitty service. What a rare find it was to find both adorable kittens, cats, and amazing coffee.  

Here you were, one of the most cheerful people he had ever met. Beautiful? Shinsou wasn’t much for conventional beauty or ‘instagram’ models that seemed to be so ‘in’ nowadays. But when cats were crawling all over you and you bundled them all in your arms in a fit of laughter—yes, he thought you were pretty.

Shinso gave you a grateful smile, especially since a napping kitten seemed to have him rooted to the chair. “That would be wonderful.” You leaned over to take his cold cup and Shinsou politely leaned back. Albeit, even he was a virile male and couldn’t help but to take a lightning-quick look at you bending over and shoving down thoughts of how delectable your ass looked.  

You apparently didn’t notice but you took a look of your own at his face. Of course, he had his darker-than-usual eye bags and you sighed sympathetically. “You look like you’re working harder than usual.” Shinsou didn’t think he looked different…? But fuck yeah, he felt tired. “Why don’t I add an espresso shot? A little bit of milk to make it sweeter?” He was your favorite customer after all. The purple-haired man had become something of a fixture around the café—you wondered if he ever actually slept sometimes. But he was always wonderful with the cats and often over-tipped. It was to the point that you as a barista, had to hide the tip jar and give him a very pointed glare.

You had caught him stuffing fifty dollars once and you had to draw the line; the poor man needed food and you sent him home to buy dinner for himself. Instead, he sheepishly came back with food for you both and had left it for you at the counter.

This was probably the first moment you had fallen in love with the purple-haired sleepy customer that constantly came to your café that you worked at. The owner gave you plentiful shifts because of your coffee skills.

“…. I think you’re the only one to know about my sweet tooth.” Shinsou said sheepishly. You took that as agreement, happily walking over back to the counter.

You filled up the metal tins and efficiently started frothing the milk, snagging the espresso shots, adeptly mixing the syrups and continued. “Hey, hey, I know when someone doesn’t like Americanos.” You gave him a mischievous smile. “I also saw your nose scrunching up and if you had a cattail, it would’ve been stick straight.”

“Ugh, you remember that.” Shinsou face-palmed. He remembered the first time he came in and one of his hero coworkers had ordered it for him; apparently, he had cultivated the image for loving the watery and bitter brew. No, it was because his office had no fucking good coffee and he was forced to drink it to stay awake. Shinsou had bit back any words and stifled the longing he felt for something tasty.

Apparently, you had noticed. Then you had come over, profusely apologizing that you had given him the wrong coffee and given him a specialty drink with no one the wiser. That moment solidified Shinsou’s affinity for this particular store.

“Do you pay attention to all your customers like this?” Shinsou took the new drink with great appreciation; it seemed everything here was good. He had yet to dislike any of your coffee concoctions.

“I try my best.” You said honestly. Shinsou looked around, there were a few people left at this late hour but for the most part, you seemed to be lingering near him. He bit back a stray thought, maybe that you also liked him a bit more than a regular customer, and gave you a small quirk of his lips. Shinsou wasn’t much for smiling but maybe your drinks invoked some kind of magic.

Shinsou hummed with delight. “I noticed. How long do you think you’ll be working around here?”

“Hmmm. I wonder!” You gave a little bit of a laugh, scooping up a yawning kitten and putting it back in their bed. Another customer gathered their things and gave a friendly goodbye.

Shinsou was content to let the comfortable silence reign but he was compelled by his own curiosity. “What would you do if you left?” He could only hope you’d stay… but he hoped you’d do what you want to do. Life tended to take people all over the place.

“Owning my own café would be a dream.” You wiped the empty tables nearby and took a bit more time cleaning than you usually did… Staring down at the table with a furrowed brows and bitterness. It was an expression he’d never seen before because you were always so happy with the customers.

Shinsou looked questioningly at you. “I think you’d be rather good at it. What’s stopping you?” He gestured to the cafe and you gave him a bit of a melancholy smile.

“Life.” You put your hand on your waist and gave him a smile—it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Huh, Shinsou thought. He noticed you had a way about yourself… answering but not saying anything about yourself.

You tapped his messy paperwork. “Probably the same reason you’re here? Why are you inside my café on a Saturday night? You could be ‘living’ it up with all your friends.” You air-quoted the words, giving him an eyebrow raise at his lonesome self.

“Hey, when did this become about me?” Shinsou held his hands up in a ‘I surrender’ gesture. Interesting deflection though. You had smoothly changed the topic and you were rather adept at turning the conversation to others.

But he couldn’t resist having the last word, call it petty of him. “I still think you’d be great at owning your own café.” He muttered— he knew you could hear. But it was something you should hear. He could see your dedication; you had been here unfailingly every weekend and he knew you took over shifts no one else would take.

“You, my dear customer, need to take no for an answer.” You jokingly rapped him on the head with a familiarity that few people showed.

Then you turned around to see someone secretly taking a picture of Shinsou. He had heard the click of the phone but unfortunately, it was all too common. He was going to ignore it but you weren’t. You shot a daggered look at the customer. “Excuse me, we value discretion in this store.” You courteously told them with a steely undertone.

Shinsou… was surprised. “Hey. Thank you for that.” He didn’t realize you noticed. This was a new side to his barista. He had never once seen you other than impeccably friendly. to civilians and heroes alike.

You dismissed his thank-you. “No, that’s my bad. I should be making sure our customers know not to bother you. You need your privacy too.” Your flippant words caused something to click within Shinsou. You weren’t like the others, you knew heroes were people. People who also should be respected, unlike those goddamn paparazzi sell-outs.

Yea, Shinsou liked you. He really liked you, more so because you didn’t seem to give a damn about his hero-fame. So he finally got the courage to ask you—

“Would you want to grab a bite to eat after the café closes?”

You looked back at him, a bit startled. “Me?” Even the kitten, napping in his lap, jumped away at his suddenly terse invitation.

Shinsou was now a bit embarrassed – he wished he was smoother about this. “No pressure. You just work super hard and I really want to treat you for everything you do for me. I know you stay late because I’m here--” Shinsou was rambling. He never rambled. God, you threw him off his game.

“Sure.” There was no harm in accepting his invitation. “You mind if I choose? I know this izakaya with home-made food but it’s a bit out of the way.” Shinsou nodded. The door rang as another customer entered. You gestured to him ‘five minutes’ and rushed off.

Soon enough, you were both at the amazing izakaya and Shinsou swore to himself that he would drag Aizawa here. This place had black garlic ramen and delicious chicken and sides. His mouth was watering from the moment he entered the place. You wasted no time in getting your orders in.

“I take it I picked well?” You were really happy you got to see your favorite, not-a-crush, customer eating with you. Your elbow was on the table, your face leaning on one hand as you watched him demolish the ramen in front of him.

He nodded, his mouth too full otherwise. “Calm down, the food’s not going anywhere.” You leaned over to push his messy locks back and gave him a chiding smile.

Shinsou froze. You froze. You leaned awkwardly back in your seat. “Um, I don’t want you to eat your hair.” You said lamely. Shinsou… leaned in to get another bite, trying to pass this off as a casual moment. You took an awkward sip of your drink. He could see the pink blush at the tip of your ears and he wondered…. Maybe you liked him back too?

The night was over too soon. He wished it could last longer… You both were at the nearby station, ready to part ways.

He had made the first move so you could take a step too. You tugged at his jacket to catch his attention. “If you ever need a ramen buddy, I’ll be happy to keep you company.” You… nervously said. Because what if he didn’t enjoy the night as much as you did?

Shinsou gave a grin as big as a Cheshire-cat smile. “Now I know what to do to pay you back for all those free lattes!”

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

Who knew that random ramen night would lead to café shenanigans between you two?

If anyone were thinking perverted thoughts, they would be disappointed though. Shinsou now helped you to coral mischievous cats and kittens into their cages.

You both had collapsed on the couch after a particularly troublesome kitty had decided to dart every which way and crawl near the coffee beans. It had taken every trick in the book to outsmart this particular kitten.

“Oh god.” You started giggling. “When did a kitten get smart enough to outsmart both of us?” Shinsou started chucking as well. You had to say between fitful of laughter—“You’re a pro-hero and you’re supposed to be smarter than this.”

Shinsou pointed accusingly at you. “I wasn’t alone in this!” You gave him a ‘ohohoho’ laugh as you got up. As a reward for his troubles, you dropped a brown paper bag of pastries onto him to take home. “God, if people saw us, they would’ve thought we were insane.” Chasing the kitten around, scrambling to get it before it escaped to the shelves…

Shinsou meant to get up. He really did. But as he lazily lied on the couch, watching you turn off the coffee machines and the glow of the lamps left a hazily ambient glow… He even shut his eyes for a few moments, relaxing his guard around you… You leaned over him to wake him up…

And then you heard it. The soft, sleepy whisper… “I wish I could see this every day.” He said it before he could think to shut himself up.

Shinsou was so gentle and sweet. You ached for him so much, so much that at those words, you gave in to the temptation. You leaned down to kiss him before he fully woke up. It was chaste, a gentle press of your lips against his.

“I hope you meant that for me and not the kitten?” You teased.

Shinsou’s eyes widened as he woke the fuck up.

Had you overstepped your bounds? Was he not interested? You hesitantly leaned back.

Not to be beaten, Shinsou tugged you down this time. “You don’t get to confess and become all shy, kitten.” His fingers entangled themselves into your hair and he caught your lips with his. He craned his head to lick your lips open, gently requesting permission.

And how quickly you caved, as you crawled into his lap.

You wished you could kiss him forever, Shinsou tasted so sweet— of caramel and sugar— he made you feel so preciously loved. His fingers stroked the nape of your neck, his lips moved down your throat, and his chest met yours as you both breathed heavily.

“I wasn’t hoping for this…” Shinsou whispered. “But I would be lying if I said I didn’t think of this.”

You nodded in a daze. Shinsou leaned forward to cup your breasts in his hands, relishing the feel of your skin against his. He claimed one for his own as he took your hardening nipples into his mouth. You writhed against him as Shinsou took his sweet goddamn time licking both breasts.

You writhed in his lap, feeling the burgeoning erection but Shinsou kept you still. “That isn’t fair…” You whined. You wanted his pants off, you wanted to feel his throbbing length against yourself. But Shinsou merely laughed, letting you suffer through the feel of the maddening cloth barrier. “Are you trying to torture me?” You whined.

“Hm?” Shinsou tugged at your hair, making you arch your chest against his. He took a chance to nip at your throat, giving you just a hint of dominance underneath his nice-guy exterior.

You thrust impatiently against him. “Pay a little attention down here, won't you?” You locked your legs around his hips, bunching your café skirt up, and shoved your wet panties against his tightening pants.

Shinsou nearly groaned, he could swear he felt you throbbing against him. But he did have to concede— there was too much between you two.

“Alright, alright kitten.” He lifted you up from the couch— oh god, you didn’t expect it but his lanky build hid more strength than you realized— and splayed you on the table. What a delicious view. Your lay passively back as he took off his shirt, exposing his toned muscles and inching down his pants. Your eyes didn’t leave his hands for one moment, he had a way of inching his pants down like he was a goddamn stripper.

His cock? You weren’t disappointed when he finally shimmied out of those pants. It was long and curved, already erect at the sight of you. You opened your thighs lewdly and snuck a hand down to rub lightly—

“Kitten, oh no.” Shinsou let his voice drop low, a slight threat to this tone. “You are going to wait patiently for me.” It wasn’t a question. This Shinsou— this wasn’t the awkward, endearing Shinsou that you came to know. This was…

He bent to a knee, looking straight into your soaked panties. You thought he was going to fuck you, not this— you closed your legs but Shinsou wrenched it apart with his hands. “Patient means you get to wait as I get my fill.” What did he mean? You gave him a wide-eyed look, questioning… “Oh kitten, are you embarrassed?” He leaned forward to lick at the wet patch forming. You jerked away but he held you still, teasing you and making you wetter. He could almost taste your slick, the heady damp-heat enticing him. But he wanted to see you beg. He pushed his finger against your cunt, letting you feel his decisive movements through the irritating fabric.

Oh god, it was the first he had touched down there all night.  But he didn’t touch you, you needed the panties off. You needed more. But no man had ever cared for foreplay with you before, you had always been used for their pleasure— you only knew to do what they wanted.

“Wait.” You tried to move away from his heated breaths— “I can handle it. It’s better for you if I just take it all in—“ Shinsou withdrew his fingers, his other hand tightening on your thighs and stopping your movement.

“Kitten. You are wet but you’re not wet enough to handle this.” Shinsou glared at you. Did you make him mad? You didn’t understand.

“It’s not about me though, it's about what feels good for you?” You tried to offer.

It was definitely the wrong words to say. Shinsou was feeling a little baffled and a little incredulous. “What do you mean by that?” He demanded. You… didn’t know what to say. Wasn’t this how it worked? Even more so because Shinsou was so important to you, you should’ve been on your knees for him.

Shinsou didn’t like your silence. “Y/N, who have you been with?” You looked away… Shinsou pinched your thigh in warning, “Let me clarify. I’m not asking who. Did no one take care of you?” He had stopped his ministrations.

“What would anyone ‘take care’ of?” You thought Shinsou wanted to fuck you. This was about him. You honestly didn’t know what he wanted of you. So you tried to cajole him out of his increasing irritation with practiced words, “It’s okay, I’m okay. I’m wet enough for you to just take what you want. Don’t you want this?”

Shinsou looked at you with darkened eyes and finally, finally slid your panties off. “Y/N, I’m not trying to just fuck you with no pleasure. I want you to feel this,” he circled your clit with his calloused fingers. “Feel like you’re wanted.” You felt wetness coming from you, getting wetter and wetter. “Have you hot and needy,” You jerked your entire body as he plunged his entire tongue into your cunt as he licked you— you had never felt this before. No man had ever decided to eat you out there but Shinsou ate like a man determined and starved. It felt like forever, Shinsou just wouldn’t let you go. You felt your entire body go taut and Shinsou squirmed his fingers in to pinch your throbbing clit and you screamed as an orgasm washed over you.

“And have you scream like that.” You weren’t even down from your high as Shinsou thrust his fingers in. He scissored his fingers in there, searching, not letting you rest until he found a spot that made you tear and cry. You tugged at his head futilely and Shinsou gave you his Cheshire-like grin again. He finally crawled up to relish your awed, tear-stained expression but he still didn’t stop.

“Shinsou, just stop. Just fuck me, please.” You implored and pleaded with him. In a way, you were trying to escape a pleasure you had never encountered before. No one had cared enough, no one had ever found this spot within you. Why was he doing this? Why did he care? This made your heart hurt, this made your cunt throb in a rising heat you had never felt before.

“I’m not going to fuck you, not like that,” Shinsou said in a low, raspy murmur. “I’m going to put it in you.” He thrust his fingers in time with his words. “When you’ve come.. a few times. Until I’m satisfied that you’re taken care of.”

Shinsou relentlessly pursued the spot within you while leaving his bite marks all over you, his mind tucking away every detail of your skin and every spot that made you feel sensitive. Until you had squirmed, screaming on breathless climaxes. Until you could no longer beg, beg those selfish words.

He never wanted to hear that this was about himself again.  He waited until your throat was hoarse and your thighs utterly soaking in your release before he inched himself into your luscious warmth.

Then he started an achingly slow pace that had you feeling every ridge of his cock, your tired body heightened in pleasure. Only when did you utter the most delicious little sighs, did he piston his length into you and finally take his climax alongside yours.

*****

At least you were on closing shift the next day. You didn’t have to wake up early, you and Shinsou had messily cleaned up after yourself in the café and you had followed Shinsou to his apartment.

Shinsou didn’t want to be apart from you and had been accompanying you at the café.

“We’ll be closing soon. Do you want me to come over tonight?” You inclined your head towards the last few customers. Shinsou was about to say yes but then an incoming call came again.

“Sorry!” Shinsou cupped his hands over his phone and walked to a corner to take a call.

He heard the familiar creation hero’s voice, “Shinsou! We have a meeting tonight!”  Shinsou realized, oh shit, he was supposed to be meeting with Yaoyorozu tonight. He had enlisted her help for after-hours with the case for Marionette.

You looked curiously over but said nothing. Shinsou still turned away though, sighing. “Yes. Sorry, it slipped my mind but I’ll be home in thirty minutes.” He hung up the phone.

He looked sadly at you. “Work.” You understood his work was important so you nodded. He gathered his stuff but you busied yourself and made several drinks for him to go. “Your co-worker can choose what they want.” You had included muffins, hot tea, a latte, and a coffee.

Shinsou gratefully accepted, a little at a loss for words. You were endearing yourself, more and more, even sending him off with food so he wouldn’t starve. He left the café but not without throwing a look over his shoulder; wondering if you were ever lonely closing or if you were safe.

You noticed him standing outside and made another ‘shoo, shoo’ gesture. Shinsou reluctantly walked away, curling his jacket around himself in the cold night air. Maybe he would take more patrols in your area to make sure you were okay?

Shinsou nodded to himself and decided, that would settle it. At this time, he wouldn’t possibly have known how this would have turned out—

You lay dying on the floor with a small hand reached out to Shinsou. “It was always going to turn out this way… Don’t cry. I don’t deserve it.” The pro-hero lay over your body, his arms forced at his sides as he shoved back his questions, his outrage, wondering how he could’ve ended this differently. He couldn’t even lend a hand to you. You gave him a pained smile despite bleeding out and let your arm fall. “Thank you… for letting me finish this until the end.” He could see the light of your eyes leaving, the blood choking any further words you wanted to say.

It was always going to end this way. It didn’t matter what he did.

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

You saw Shinsou off with a fond smile. A smile you shouldn’t have had; judging by your fellow ‘friend’ who was watching you from the corner of the café.

You leaned in to pick up your so-called friend’s book, thumbing through it to find the loose-leaf sheet you’d been waiting for. “Y/N, are you getting soft for him?” She murmured in a soft voice. You had hoped she wouldn’t notice. You shook your head decisively but she grabbed your arm, looking at you with near-desperate eyes.

“You know that he’s a hero right? If the option came down to it, you will have to choose.”

You shook her off, giving a glare of your own. “No innocents, heroes or no heroes. I’ve accomplished it so far. There’s only one target left.” You scanned the address listed.

“Y/N…” She dug her nails into your skin, tears in her eyes. “You know we have nothing left. This is the last chance to set things straight.”

You leaned your hand reassuringly over hers. “I promise you, nothing, absolutely nothing will stop me.” You looked at the time; noting it was nearly time for you to take over tonight’s operation after the café closed. A customer walked in so the conversation came to a halt.  “The shift is almost done here so why don’t I go and get you a drink?” You sent her off with a drink, waited until closing and bidding goodbye as everyone left.

You let the smiling façade fall and curled your fingers painfully into your palms. A cat came up to you, weaving around your legs and gently comforted you. Cats are uncannily perceptive. You hunched down, picking it up and burying your face into its soft fur.

Shinsou had made you think for a second, you could continue to live this life. To indulge in a second of whimsy, to hold onto this brief and mundane happiness.

“It’s such a stupid dream… so stupid for someone like me.” You felt the rising emotion in your throat, but you dammed back the tears, and shoved the anxiety that threatened to overcome you in your lonely moments.  You loved this place, adored the gentleness of the innocent kittens, and cherished the trivialities of this daily life. A life that was simple. Working, having fun, laughing, maybe having a secret, starry-eyed relationship with a certain sleepy customer.

It was too bad that this was never meant to last; night had fallen, and you needed to finish one last thing before this illusion overtook you.

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

“Yaoyorozu, none of this adds up.” Shinsou frustratedly pushed away the numerous papers surrounding him. All of Marionette’s victims seemed to have no connection, no reason or rhyme as to why she targeted them. But that wasn’t possible; the precision in which she chose her victims should prove she had motive.

Momo sighed, staring at the list again. “Let’s go over what we know, shall we?” She lined the portfolios up. A businessman. A minor government official. A doctor. An international dignitary. They had both been pouring over the victim’s backgrounds but had yet to see a connection. Momo looked at their respective work and occupations, their paths had occasionally crossed but nothing stood out.

Shinsou looked up the families, the nationalities, their political beliefs but none of those stood out either. Except for their… religion? He stared at the church on the dossier for the businessman and doctor. Something was familiar…. But he could not put his finger on it.

“Hey, can you check on the government official and dignitary? Their list of funded causes?” Shinsou frowned. He couldn’t find information on the their religious beliefs; it wasn’t listed because government entities couldn’t publicly pledge allegiance to any religion—lest it be known, and their commitment swayed away from public conviction. But he had sworn there was a familiar name.

Momo scanned the sheets. “Both their records showed they funded a Russian church.” Shinsou tapped the sheets before him. “This doctor is Russian and this businessman had numerous Russian business deals.” He leaned back, thinking…. Then Shinsou pulled up a slightly illegal database, a website he had obtained from one of his informants on the street.

“Don’t look too closely, Yaoyorozu, or you may see things you don’t want to see.” He typed in the church organization, pulling up a number of results. He rapidly keyed in some back-door codes, punching through sensitive data files.

Yaoyoruzu looked at him with lilting eyes, her fingers paused on the paperwork. “You don’t want to ask the police?” Surely, police would be privy to any information they would need.

Shinsou shook his head— “They don’t have enough international information. What I need probably isn’t on official servers.” Regardless of his warnings, Yaoyorozu inched closer and peeked over his shoulder. What had so raptly caught his attention? Shinsou jotted a note on a paper, monologuing to fill his fellow pro-hero in. “As you well know, Russia is one of the worst criminal countries in the world.” He let that sink in. The creation-based hero was informed of the world events—Japan had taken control of their villain society and with All Might, they had issued in one of the most peaceful eras to date. Not to say there wasn’t the League of Villains lurking about. Other countries hadn’t been so lucky. “If you know about Russia, their justice system is highly corrupt and their church and government is known for propagating war crimes.” Yaoyorozu nodded but she wasn’t sure what exactly they were talking about. “And this unique equation of victims makes me think of something really bad.” Shinsou rapidly clicked through the results, not quite finding what he suspected.

He typed in the dignitary’s name, opening an article about his funded endeavors…. “Well, shit.” His tired eyes glazed over the newspaper and article, noting the familiar faces.

Yaoyorozu leaned in and gasped at the contents of the picture. “That’s all four of our victims.” She realized with dawning horror at who they were with. “Shinsou, they couldn’t possibly have….”

Shinsou grimly nodded. “I think so. If I’m right, this last person is the next victim.” He tapped the computer screen and rapidly looked up the captioned woman—“And she lives here in Japan… as a airport customs official.” Shinsou punched in a call to Tsukauchi.

“Hey, I think we found the next victim. Can you send a police escort to them while I fill you in? I’d like to go over and talk to them personally as well.”

-----------

Shinsou was soon driving over, with the police requesting assistance from Tokoyami and Todoroki. Yaoyorozu had teamed up with the police investigators, filling them in on their research.

He met up with Todoroki at the bottom of the apartment building. Was Tokoyami missing? Todoroki answered his question before he could even ask, pointing to the dark night sky and emergency stairwells. The raven bird hero was much more adept at dealing with the situation that Shinsou might be.

“I assume you read up on Marionette?” Todoroki nodded. “Looks like we’re prepared.” Shinsou and Todoroki advanced upwards. They both entered the darkened hallway while Shinsou stared pensively at the eerily silent door of the apartment.  Where were the police escorts? Where were the neighbors?

Both of the pro-heroes had a bad feeling; flinging open the door without warning. Todoroki instinctively put up an ice barrier, deflecting the lethal cut of wires flung at the door. Despite the icy steam and darkness, they could still make out the bloody severed head on the floor and unconscious police officers, lit by the blue light of the computer screen.

You, Marionette, looked back at them in your disguised mask. Your blade ran fresh with blood, still dripping heavily and they realized they must’ve only been minutes too late. Shinsou took a lightning-quick assessment, noting the police were still breathing and unconscious, and again, only the victim looked dead.

“Marionette.” Todoroki stepped in. “You’re under arrest by the authorities of the hero association, for the murders of—”

“Stop.” You let the knife fall and waved away his words. For the first time in all your encounters, you deemed to speak a word. In your real voice. Shinsou knew they had you cornered... but it didn’t make sense. Why? Why had you chosen to stay when you could’ve escaped in the ample few minutes? You didn’t attempt to escape, even as Todoroki froze the only other window over. “It didn’t take you very long this time.” Why did you choose to speak, when you had evaded his abilities so well before? Shinsou and you stared at each other.

Shinsou could’ve taken control but he wanted to hear his suspicions proved wrong. He wanted to believe that the victims… were truly victims. That you, Marionette, was a cruel murderer.

Todoroki faded into silence but you all knew if you made a move, he would not hesitate to freeze you in a split second. With that in mind, he let Shinsou step forward closer to you.

“Marionette, we just want the truth. You told me before, no one would trust us.” Shinsou let the past memory sink in, let its weight fall heavy. “Tell me the truth about St. Magdalene boarding school.”

Your breath hitched at the mention of the school. It was the first, discomposed, emotion he had heard from you in all his encounters.

“Trust? Figures you’d be the one to figure it all out, hm? Shinsou.” The brain-washing hero’s blood ran cold— he recognized that familiar way of speaking. More so, how else would you know his name?   Todoroki now looked confused. You cast off your hair clip, letting the familiar locks fall and crooked your head at him with a sigh.

“It’s not…” Shinsou rasped out. He had caressed those silky locks this morning, pressing a vulnerable kiss to your sleepy face. He could even see the finger-shaped bruises of your passionate interlude— you couldn’t. Please, not you. But you took off the mask, dispelling any hope Shinsou could’ve had. You looked at him, your expression one of martyred determination. “Why?” His voice come out more agonized than he wanted to show, Shinsou died inside at seeing you.

You leaned forward, pulling— Todoroki got ready to deter you with fire but you simply pulled a thumb drive from the computer. The screen flashed with the same information you had withdrawn, slowly panning pictures of innocent girls. If Shinsou knew the truth…. Then he would know what you were about to say. “St. Magdalene is a Russian school from all appearances.” You felt Todoroki’s ice experimentally but made no violent movement and the pro-heroes remained alert. “If you believe the records. But we both know its far more than that?” Todoroki looked at the girl’s pictures with a dawning realization.

Shinsou decided to fill in the gaps. “But it was an operation for human trafficking, especially from Japan. All the victims— no, culprits, had the connections and means to get children through the channels and have them disappear.” You had to give him credit, he got farther than anyone else.

Yaoyorozu had researched the supposed names that had graduated from the school, only to have them disappear from any official records. “Where they went? We haven’t found a connection but the police are working on that.” Shinsou couldn’t find anything more but he was determined to.

You traced the computer screen, tracing the faces you had grown up with and had seen sacrificed, suffered, and mutilated. “I can help you with that. ”

Todoroki shook his head, muttering. “Disappearing means there’s a chance we can help—“ You let out a cruel scoff.

“You’re naive pro-hero.” Your voice dripped with disdain for Todoroki. “Disappearing would’ve been a kinder fate than what we went through. You name it, you got it.” You tapped the screen at one girl. “Bought and sold to the highest bidder, found dead from sordid sex gone wrong. She was dumped like an animal.” You watched as another face flashed on by. “This one, she wasn’t very pretty. Cut up for organs for the nouveau-rich.” You waited for another one, grimacing. “Drug mule; except she was cut up countless times, screaming every time they carved out her innards.” Shinsou could only imagine it but already, he felt sickened. “My sister?” You hesitated at that one. “She was given to the church, probably from some pedophilic fetish— didn’t help that she was crucified and burnt alive as a whore.”

Both pro-heroes wanted for you to lie; otherwise, the consequences of those well-known officials and the longevity of their career meant there had been countless victims over numerous years. It means that countless people had been involved in hiding these atrocities.

You shifted from the computer to walk directly to the brain-washing hero. You turned your emotions to cold steel, willed your sentimentality to die. Right, because it was oh-so-easy. If it had been, you wouldn’t be on this vendetta for revenge. You would’ve been gone to live the life you wanted.

“I will hand this thumb drive to you if you, Shinsou, promise to bring these people to justice.” You gestured to the rolling head beside you. “The organization will be in disarray but what’s left of it, they probably don’t deserve to die.  Just rot the rest of their lives in jail.”

Todoroki regarded you suspicion. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

You clapped your hands in a mocking gesture. “I’ve left you not only the names but times, dates, locations, names, and potential future victims. You should be able to work off of that.” How you got that information? Well, it certainly wasn’t through official channels otherwise it would’ve been covered up.

Shinsou was reluctant to let the conversation end. “Why didn’t you just run then?”

You gave a weary sigh. “It’s not like I could’ve continued this forever. How many more bodies would I need to kill? How much longer before a so-called pro-hero ‘arrests’ me? If it's not you, it’ll be a hit on my head. I’ll die without bringing this to light.”

They couldn’t deny it. But you... you gestured to them. “But I’ve heard of you two. You and Deku, you won't abide seeing the system like this.”

You looked world-weary, bone-tired to all the killing you had done. You looked like you had given up. So Shinsou tried to consider a way you could be saved— a way that was right as a pro-hero.

But none of you had time, not as a gunshot rang loud and clear in the room and you lurched, looking down at yourself.

You were bleeding. You were bleeding heavily as you fell forward. Todoroki swore, leaping forward to disarm the weapon as one of the police officers look triumphant.

“What have you done?” Shinsou looked near venomously at the police officer, kneeling forward to catch you.

“No!” You coughed blood up, holding Shinsou back. “It’s not safe for you.” You could feel the taut wire of control fading, your life ebbing with the flow of blood. Your quirk was reacting badly, you weren’t sure if you could keep it in check.

So you kneeled on the floor, your body crumpling. Shinsou looked agonized above you— but you gave him a lackluster smile. You reached out your hand… and looked for no comfort. “You look like you’re gonna cry. I don’t deserve it.” You tossed the thumb drive to him.

Todoroki lay a hand on Shinsou’s shoulder. “We have to call the ambulance… but I’m not sure she’ll make it.” Shinsou wondered how he could’ve ended this differently. Could he have helped you? What if you had come to him?  But none of that would’ve changed how this ended. You had been on a lonely path to vigilante justice.

The fiery streak of pain and bullets was nothing new to you. Neither was bleeding. You know what was new? Seeing someone who actually cared that you were dying.

Paramedics pushed past Shinsou to take Marionette in, others cordoning off the scene with the decapitated body. Tokoyami flew in, having heard everything from outside.

“Shinsou, take a look at the computer.” Everything was well and truly deleted from it, the bios flashing with erased data. Some kind of virus program? Meticulous planning.

Someone brushed by him to examine your wounds… Shinsou’s eyes flickered over to the paramedic.

“Todoroki, can you run this to Yaoyorozu? Make sure I get a copy and to pass one to Aizawa. I want the originals before this moves up to the police and higher-ups.”

“Understood.” They both understood how.. ‘sensitive’ this was. “I’ll protect this on my life.”

***

You woke up, groggily moving and wincing as pain shot through your stomach. You gently laid a hand on the gunshot wound, expecting to see red— but came away to see neat bandages on yourself. Surprising, she’s not usually so thorough.

“I didn’t expect such loving care.” You turned to your friend, expecting to see the informant from the coffee shop. But instead, you saw a purple, messy-haired and raccoon-eyed hero.

One who was smirking at you like you were an idiot.

“What the fuck.” It was the first of your plans that had gone so awry, the brain-washing pro-hero was sitting there as if he was a figment of your imagination. Maybe he was. Maybe your drug-addled brain was hallucinating. So you turned away, scrubbing your face with your hands.

“I’m not disappearing,” Shinsou said helpfully—giving credence that your hallucinations were extremely vivid—never mind that fact you’ve never had any before.

You took a deep, deep breath. “Humor me. How did you find out that I was alive? And if you knew, why aren’t I in jail?”

Shinsou gestured to the medical equipment hooked up to you. “We have mutual friends, for once, in our line of work.” You… didn’t expect that. Your cohort at the coffee shop had promised you an escape route—albeit risky—and you didn’t think to check on the connection. “Turns out you’re not the only one who’s had the idea to fake their death. But it usually needs very specific quirks and connections so here we are.”

You looked down at your bandaged and nearly naked form, sighing. “It was that or just dying on the way here. I didn’t expect to get shot.”

Shinsou scoffed at that. “What did you expect then?”

“I thought Todoroki might try to kill me. Either that, I could try to poison myself. “You threw out suggestions as conversationally as one might discuss the weather. “The better question is, why did you let me live? If you knew what I was up to?”

Shinsou leaned back in his chair, giving you an assessing look. “Your information, as far as we can tell, has panned out to close multiple cases.” So Shinsou knew you hadn’t lied about what you’d told him. About anything you told him. “So I’ve made a case to the Eraser Hero that you be kept alive to supply the police with information.”

You … absorbed that knowledge. “So you want me to be a confidential informant.” You closed your eyes wearily. “From one organization to another, I’m going to be used like a scapegoat.” You were changing hands from the Russian government to Japan’s government and used like their dirty little patsy. “I thought you would be different, pro-hero.”

Shinsou shoved himself to his feet, growling in frustration. “I’m not that much of a fucking low-life—don’t accuse me of that bullshit.” You may have shrunk back a little bit; this was the first time you had to see him angry at you. Honestly, you thought you would never see him again. You’d never face the moment of truth because you’d either be long-dead or long-gone. Here he was with all your secrets laid bare—and he was going to use you like the rest of them.

“You’re under the direct protection and surveillance of me and Eraser Head—we are the heroes who are holding you accountable. We give you the orders; not some fucking government organization.” Shinsou pointed to himself, scowling because of your accusations. You.. were reeling. Because how could he have worked that out?

“I can’t believe that. There’s no possible way you could have that authority. At best, I’ve got life in jail.” You knew how this worked. “At worst? I’m more than dead from Russia. I’ll be lucky if they kill me first.” You had already killed too many… You regretted the innocent you killed. You regretted the path you used to climb to the top. But after that? You could justify every sordid thing you did to get to Japan and to get the culprits responsible. “I know this can’t be true.”

Shinsou could finally get the upper hand here. “And this is where you’re wrong. Aside from a few of us pro-heroes, you’re dead to the world.” He flung down the newspaper at your bed, you shakily took ahold of the articles. You could see the gallant statements of heroes, Shoto and Tsukuyomi having taken down the international villain, Marionette. You were pronounced dead at the scene—inconspicuous pictures of your supposed corpse with no discerning features.

He could see your confusion. “Aizawa and I are handling the rest. You’re getting a different identity; hopefully you like the name Y/N because I’m not even sure that’s your real name.” Shinsou was mildly, oh-so-very-fucking irritated that he didn’t even know your real name. He couldn’t even find this one simple fact about you.

You… couldn’t believe it. If what Shinsou was saying was true…. It was too good to be true. You could finally be free. Whatever they’d want of you, it couldn’t be as bad as the others. You felt warm emotions claw up, the composure you held for so many years crumbling at this possibility ahead of you.

Shinsou sat at the edge of your bed, watching you. Evaluating and gauging you. You were a trained and murderous assassin—but he could see that you fought for good. That you hadn’t lost your humanity. “Y/N… if that’s your name. Listen to me.” He held a hand to your cheek, gently. “We’re going to arrest everyone who’s been involved in this. And when we do, I want you to find peace.” He had been there. The desire for revenge, the desire to shout to the world that they were wrong—it was all-consuming and would burn the entirety of your soul.

“Shinsou…. I’m so tired. So tired.” You finally sobbed out. “I don’t want to kill anyone anymore. I don’t want to lose what’s left of me— Was it just too much to ask for a simple life where I can be happy?” You cried, probably disgustingly into your hands.

“A life of cat cafes and being a barista?” Shinsou ventured to ask. If anything, the words made you cry even harder. You tried to nod between all the hiccupping breaths and tears. You tried to stop, you tried to breathe—but it was so hard. Even as you tried to believe him, the fear that all of this was fake, that this would all be taken away like some cruel dream had you almost hyperventilating.

“Please tell me if this is a lie. If you’re going to send..” You tried to breathe, still losing more oxygen than you were taking in. “… Me to jail, just don’t torture me.” You beseeched him, imploring with your eyes—it was too cruel.

Shinsou could see how desperate you were; a hint of the lost little girl you must’ve been at one point. The girl who probably never had a chance of a childhood, of meeting friends, of growing up and falling love. How did it feel to have that all taken away from you with no choice?

Despite all his logic and rationale screaming at him that this could be the worst decision, that he would be yet another naïve hero you so disdainfully scolded—Shinsou leaned forward to kiss you, to give you the oxygen you deprived yourself of.

You were too shocked to cry more. Shinsou took that chance to give you his own breath, stealing what was left of your panic and just kissing the life out of you. If you thought he was hungry before, Shinsou was stealing what was left of your soul. He eventually lifted his mouth from yours, whispering gently. “If you promise you want to be good, Y/N, that you won’t kill anyone—that if I can believe you, I’ll do my best to save you.”

You gave a watery smile. “I want to be. I want to be someone that can atone for everything I’ve done.”

Shinsou brushed your hair back from your face, mindful of your injuries. “Just atone? Don’t you want a chance to try to be happy?” You… looked up at him.

“Do I deserve to try?” You dared to ask. You dared to even try hope.

“I think you do.” Shinsou murmured.

You hesitantly laced your fingers with his, hoping he wouldn’t pull away. Not that you could blame him if he hated you. “What if I told you… that you made me happy?” You were a little scared to meet his eyes, your gaze flitting nervously between his limp hand and his unreadable expression.

“I would tell you, I’ve never tried dating an assassin but I’d make an exception for you.” Shinsou laced his fingers firmly with yours and gave you another stolen, chaste kiss.

“But you definitely need to heal up before we talk about anything else.”

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable- Ch 1: Jenna Borge

Summary: A Spencer Reid x OC fanfic that retells select episodes, starting in season 1, from the point of view of Lydia Ambers, a forensic scientist.

Warnings: swearing, murder

Ch 2 | About Lydia

~ ~ ~

Waking up in a hospital was not Lydia’s idea of a good time.

Not as a broke college student. And especially not when she had no recollection of injuring herself. In fact, she couldn’t even remember falling asleep. It was like she had blinked and found herself horizontal… Not great.

She tried to pull herself together enough to figure out what was wrong. Other than her head being fuzzy, she couldn’t seem to find any injuries on herself. Perhaps she’d passed out? But if that were the case, Jenna would have given her some water and put her to bed. What would warrant a trip to the hospital?

“Lydia Ambers?” A woman asked, pulling her attention to the door. “My name is Detective Richards. I have a few questions for you.”

Oh shit… 

~ ~ ~

“Last night, in Santa Cruz, California, college student Jenna Borge was stabbed multiple times in her dorm room. Her roommate, Lydia Ambers, was sedated with antipsychotics, but otherwise unharmed.”

“So, it’s personal,” Morgan inferred.

“You would think that,” JJ agreed. “Only, this doesn’t look to be his first kill. Two months ago, a recent graduate from UC Santa Cruz, Elizabeth Chang, was stabbed and killed while walking home from work. Six months before that, Lucy Max was found in an alleyway. The first two girls were assumed to have been victims of muggings, but now with Jenna’s death, the Santa Cruz PD are thinking it’s a serial killer.”

“Any connection between the victims?” Elle asked, but JJ shook her head.

“Nothing but age and gender. These girls were of different races, social standings, and Lucy was a college student at a different school than Elizabeth and Jenna. It’s highly unlikely that these girls have any friends in common.”

“Why leave the roommate alive then?” It was Reid this time, looking through the information on his file. “If our unsub has no preference for the girls he picks, why not kill her too? And the fact that he had the tranquilizer handy means he knew she would be there and had planned ahead of time not to kill her.”

“So, our unsub has some sort of connection with these girls. He’s killing these girls for a reason. The question is, what reason?” Gideon finished, standing up to leave. “Let’s go to California.”

~ ~ ~

“I need you to tell me everything you remember,” Detective Richards said, sitting beside Lydia’s bed.

“What’s going on?” Lydia demanded. “Why am I here?”

“I really need to know what you know before I tell you anything,” the woman explained, unhelpfully.

“I don’t know anything! I swear, the last thing I remember was studying in my room.”

“Was your roommate there?”

Lydia huffed. She didn’t get it. Something was going on, something bad, likely having to do with the fact that she ended up in a hospital with no apparent injuries. And the only person who knew was being passive and dodging her questions.

The last time she’d had to deal with the police like this, they’d been as blunt as a hammer. Sixteen-year-old Lydia had no clue what was coming and they swept the rug out from underneath her. She had felt like she was drowning, being asked a thousand questions before their words could sink in.

Somehow, Detective Richards was worse.

“Yes. My roommate was trying to sleep.”

“And was there anyone else in the room with you?”

Lydia did all she could to keep from scratching her own eyes out. “No.”

“Are you sure? This is vital information, Miss Ambers. We need to know everyone who came in and out of your room yesterday.”

“I’m not lying,” she insisted. “Only Jenna and I were in our room. Now please, tell me what happened!”

The detective hesitated a moment. Lydia’s heart leapt into her throat, the suspense finally catching up to her. Perhaps a realization, too. For some reason, she could see where this was going.

“Last night, someone came into your room and murdered your roommate, Jenna Borge.”

The denial struck first. “That doesn’t make any sense. Jenna was right next to me. I would’ve… No one was there but us.”

“You two were found by a classmate of Jenna’s. She thought you both were dead, but when the police arrived on scene, they realized that you had been knocked out, but were still breathing. The doctor can talk to you about that more than I can. Whoever killed your roommate drugged you first, to stop you from doing anything.”

And then, as always… the anger.

“Leave.”

~ ~ ~

Jenna was gone. Really gone. Lydia had tried calling her phone multiple times, but stopped herself when she realized that listening to Jenna’s voice was only fueling her anger.

It felt as if storms raged in Lydia’s stomach. If the universe was really out to get her, why did it never come for her directly?

She shed her tears quickly that night, knowing that her hospital room might be the only place for her to safely do so. Once she left, she couldn’t disappear. People would want to talk to her about it. She’d have to go back to class. And there really wasn’t any way of processing something like this except moving on.

“Drink a lot of water,” the nurse explained to Lydia, as she escorted her out of the hospital the next morning. “You’ll likely be lethargic for the next few days, so go easy on yourself. Take a day off or ask your teachers to be gentle with your workload.”

“Thank you,” she responded, shortly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Lydia Ambers?”

Lydia groaned. Another cop? Really?

The man who had called to her stood in the waiting room of the hospital. He pulled out a badge, though he was still too far away for her to see. His partner, a far younger, taller man, was raking his eyes over her, as if looking for something.

Lydia left her escort and walked over to the two of them, arms crossed over her chest. “Yes?”

“My name is Agent Gideon, this is Dr. Reid. We’re from the FBI.”

She raised an eyebrow, not intending to be challenging, but she couldn’t help it. Lydia had never been great at calming herself down, despite all the opportunities to practice. “Whoopie for you. I explained to Detective Richards what happened that night. I honestly don’t remember anything. If you’re here to take me in as a suspect, go ahead, but if not, there’s nothing I can do for you.”

“Miss Ambers, we work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We’re not questioning you as a suspect, but we believe the man who attacked your roommate might have known her before he killed her. You might have known him as well. Do you think you could come back to the station with us and sit through a few more questions?”

No, I can’t. The emotional strength it takes to pretend like I’m okay is too much for me. Another hour of questioning and I guarantee my head will explode, I’ll vomit what little is left in my stomach and then my own intestines, and I’ll assault a police officer… In that order.

“Don’t call me Miss Ambers,” she insisted, ignoring the violent monologue replaying in her head. “Lydia is fine. But yes, I’ll come along.”

Agent Gideon nodded and Lydia could see an understanding in his eyes. But she pushed it aside as simply his experience in dealing with grieving strangers.

He led her and Dr. Reid out of the hospital and to a black SUV. As they walked, Dr. Reid fell slightly behind Lydia, which she knew couldn’t be an accident considering his insanely long legs. And even if she didn’t know that, his gaze was burning holes into her side.

“Are you sure I’m not a suspect?”

“Do you think you should be?” Agent Gideon asked.

“No, but Dr. Reid here is staring at me like I might pull a gun on him any minute.”

The guy looked startled that she had even acknowledged him, glancing at Gideon like he needed permission to speak to her. “Um, I was trying to identify the source of your limp. Your hip and knee don’t jerk when you walk and you seem to be able to extend them fully, but you clearly favor your left leg.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. Normally the question was phrased as ‘What’s wrong with your leg?’ She had to admit, she appreciated his forwardness about staring, but it didn’t make her want to answer any more.

“Well, don’t worry Dr. Reid. My medical records will reflect the fact that I have had this for 5 years and it doesn’t affect the case. Thank you for the concern, though.” And with that, she slid into the backseat and shut the door.

He looked at Gideon, confused. “I wasn’t asking because I’m-”

“That means don’t talk about it, Reid,” Gideon told him, before he also got into the car and turned on the engine.

~ ~ ~

“How long had you known Jenna?” Gideon started, having Lydia sit down in an empty room in the station. Reid continued his hovering in the back, completely silent.

“Since we were freshmen… We were going to graduate together next month.”

Saying those words aloud was harder for Lydia than she thought. Her nose started to burn, a sign that tears were on the way, but she set her face with a look of determination. Jenna wasn’t going to graduate. That was a fact now. She couldn’t do anything about that.

“Are you alright, Mi- Lydia?”

She scoffed. “I’m sorry?” she asked, thrown completely off guard. “Should I be?? My friend was just…” The words died in her throat.

“I’m sorry.” Agent Gideon’s tone was completely sincere, but he continued mercilessly. “You’re not displaying some of the typical signs of grief-”

She laughed, dryly. “You analyze behavior and you don’t know that people handle their grief differently?”

“Of course I do. And yours indicates guilt. Perhaps some past trauma you’re trying to repress-”

“You said I wasn’t a suspect-”

“And you’re not-”

“Then stop profiling me!” She smashed her fist against the table and the sudden sting against her hand brought her back to reality. Don’t make this harder. Getting angry at the police only made both sides more frustrated, it wouldn’t compel anyone to find out who did this faster. She gritted her teeth to continue. “Yes, I feel guilty. I let someone sedate me and kill my roommate. And I just don’t understand why he didn’t kill me! Everything else: my anger issues, my past, my fucking leg, it doesn’t pertain to this case. So, please, just let me be.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve upset you.”

That was a shift from what she was used to. When she was younger, it was always the same routine. She’d lash out and the rest of the world would send her away until she calmed down. And she knew that it was her fault. That they didn’t deserve her rage. But she never realized how nice it might be to have someone stop her then and there. And take the blame away from her fury, if only for a moment.

“You didn’t upset me. Agent Gideon, I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse characters than me… at least I hope you have. Just know that I’m doing my best… if there was more to say, I would have told you. If it was going to help, I’d tell you every detail of my past, but it isn’t.”

He seemed to agree with that. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

“Now then… what else do you want to know?”

~ ~ ~

“Notice anything?” Gideon inquired as the two of them left Lydia, exiting the room she was held in and joining the team in a separate part of the station.

“Yeah? She’s like a walking contradiction. She claims anger issues, but she shows no signs of stress. She makes snappy remarks, but physically she seemed anxious, not angry. Her face is relaxed and her shoulders hold all her tension, not her hands or jaw.”

Gideon nodded, listening closely to the boy’s observations. “What do you make of the fact that she keeps asking if she’s a suspect?”

“Nerves? Guilty conscious? Maybe she’s afraid we’ll find something and she wants to make sure we aren’t looking into her.”

“Good. She doesn’t want to be profiled, that usually indicates that she’s hiding something. But, it always comes back to her past, one she claims Jenna had no part of. So… she’s got a bad history, but it’s unrelated to the case.”

“And for some reason it’s taking priority in her mind, instead of Jenna’s death,” Reid concluded.

“You talking about the roommate?” Hotch asked as they approached.

“Yes,” Gideon explained. “She’s an interesting one. A challenge.”

“Do you think she’s involved?”

Gideon shook his head. “If her medical report wasn’t alibi enough, she shows no signs of being a psychopath. Or a sociopath, for that matter. But she’s hard to profile. She’s got a complicated past, no doubt.”

Morgan laughed upon hearing this. “There’s someone Gideon and Reid can’t profile?”

Reid tried to defend the two of them almost immediately. “It’s almost like she uses her generic differences to hide from the bigger ones. Like, she kept saying she had anger issues, and while that added up with her reactions, clearly they stem from something very particular in her life and she’s trying to pretend like that’s not there. Or something…”

Morgan looked him up and down, noticing Reid’s hesitance in his words: almost, like, something… “She’s got you all confused, Reid. I’ve got to meet this chick.”

“You can,” JJ said, walking into the room with Lydia in tow. “She’s still here.”

The whole room looked up as the new girl strode in. Spencer watched her closely, but for some reason, all his suspicions about her had dissolved after meeting her in the hospital. He tried to be unbiased, but he had something of a gut feeling about her. An inexplicable trust that this act of hers was reasonable.

Lydia’s hair was dark, the ends brushing her shoulders as she walked. She looked nervous, approaching the room of profilers, but her voice was completely steady as she spoke.

“I want to offer more assistance. Better assistance than talking about Jenna’s past boyfriends… I just finished an internship recently with the SCPD. I’m a chemistry student, on track to becoming a forensic scientist. I know I’m not anywhere near as qualified as you are, but I’m far more familiar with the crime scene. At the very least, let me point out anything suspicious. Before you guys clear it out, that is.”

Hotch sucked in his lips, hesitantly, before approaching. “Miss-”

“Lydia,” she and Gideon said simultaneously. She glanced at the older man with an unreadable expression.

“Lydia,” Hotch corrected. “I’m Agent Hotchner. What you’re asking to do is difficult. You’ve seen how some of these crime scenes turn out. It’s messy. We can’t guarantee you’re psychologically ready to see what’s there.”

“I won’t be a burden,” she insisted. “You can have surveillance over me the whole time. But I’m positive I can help.”

“Let her do it,” Gideon chimed in. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Hotch was clearly not convinced on the matter, but he nodded. “Reid and Morgan, go along.”

Derek approached, reaching his hand out to shake. “I’m Agent Morgan.”

“Lydia,” she introduced, her demeanor calmer now that Hotch had agreed. “Thank you,” she told the unit chief and left briskly.

“She’s definitely guarded,” Morgan admitted. “She must be hiding a big heart underneath that mask. That or she has ulterior motives to go to the crime scene.”

~ ~ ~

Don’t touch anything.

She almost ran the minute the door opened. It had been a day and a half and the room still smelled with an iron-y sharpness.

If you start to cry, or feel sick, just go. Don’t stop to explain yourself.

Every time she looked at the bed, the words ‘that’s not hers’ flashed in front of her eyes. That dark red stain… that’s not hers. And the light red droplets by the door… that’s not hers.

If you can’t handle it, leave.

Wait… that’s not hers...

“Did you guys test this blood?”

Morgan’s face read with clear confusion. “Why do you ask?”

Lydia’s eyes glanced between the bed and the few spots on the floor. “You said he tied her to the bed before stabbing her. Then, how did these get here? It’s not like he or the knife was dripping with her blood, or else there’d be more evidence of it around the room. Not to mention, he had to walk out of the room and down the hall without raising suspicions. So, it’s unlikely there was enough blood on him or the knife to drip on the floor over here. However, if he’d accidentally been cut, he’d be quick to cover it. Probably didn’t notice any evidence hit the floor. That’s why there’s some here, far away from the body, but not trailing to or from it.”

“Very clever,” Gideon acknowledged. “We actually did have that blood tested. It wasn’t your roommates.”

She nodded, but didn’t seem all that happy to hear she was right. Reid had taken notice that the whole time she was explaining her theory, she never called her roommate by her name. She was distancing herself, which was probably good at the moment, but he wondered what she could be thinking about.

“She struggled,” Lydia continued, looking at the disheveled blankets and items which had fallen from her desk. “That’s good… I need to look in these drawers.”

“I don’t know-” Morgan started, but Gideon was already pulling a pair of gloves out of his pocket. 

“Put these on first.”

The younger man was clearly not happy about it, but didn’t say anything, instead glancing at Reid, who looked on curiously. Both him and Gideon wanted to know what Lydia might find.

Once her blue surgical gloves were on, she opened up the drawers to Jenna’s desk. Nothing looked weird. A little scattered, but it reflected Jenna quite well. She was just beginning to think the unsub hadn’t touched anything when a thought crossed her mind.

“Where’s her jewelry?”

“We didn’t find any,” Morgan explained and Lydia shook her head.

“That doesn’t make sense. Jenna-” she caught herself, voice catching only for a moment. “...She always wore necklaces. She kept them in this drawer, because she didn’t like to leave expensive items out. She’d even hide them underneath all of the clutter in the hopes that a thief or burglar wouldn’t search all the way down for them. But they aren’t here. None of them are.”

“That doesn’t add up,” Morgan argued. “We didn’t profile this guy as a robber. Why’s he suddenly stealing expensive jewelry from his victims?”

Lydia shrugged and held up a wallet. “Not for the money. This is still full of cash.”

“The necklaces are a trophy for our unsub,” Gideon reasoned. “We’ve seen weirder.”

She nodded. “Her desk is always this disheveled. He could have searched them, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Anything else seem odd to you?” Gideon asked, noticing a decline in her energy.

She bit down on her bottom lip. Her eyes scanned every corner of the room, zipping over the bed quickly. “Nothing.”

Reid paused, the wheels in his head turning. “We should check pawn shops nearby and see if any of Jenna’s jewelry ended up there. We can try to trace it back to him.”

Gideon agreed. “You two get on that. Lydia, can you come back to the station with me to look over a suspect list?”

She nodded, slowly.

~ ~ ~ 

“No… No… No… No… ”

Lydia was worried she had hit her limit. Any motivation to help was slowly seeping out of her and a need to scream was replacing it. She’d never seen these guys before. Never heard their names. The most she was able to do at the crime scene was tell them about the necklaces and then a bunch of stuff they already knew. The helpless feeling was taking over once more.

“Gideon.” JJ grabbed his attention as she walked in with a cup of coffee. She set it down next to him, then glanced at Lydia. “Can I possibly get you anything?”

Lydia shook her head. “No… I’m fine. I just-” Something compelled her to go out on a limb. “JJ? Do you know if Jenna had any jewelry on her when she died?”

The blonde woman paused. “No. I can go check the record?”

“Please,” Lydia mumbled.

As she walked off, Gideon raised an eyebrow at her. “You think the unsub might have left a necklace on her person?”

Lydia just dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t know,” she huffed. “Looking at these random men isn’t helping. It’s the only lead I’ve got so just… go with me here.”

They waited a moment for JJ to come back in. “She wasn’t wearing any jewelry, but it looks like they found a broken necklace in her pocket.”

Lydia’s ears perked up. “May I see it?”

“I’ve got a picture?” JJ offered.

“Yes. That’d be great.”

Once again, she was gone and Gideon was more invested by the minute. “Broken necklace. That’s interesting. Perhaps he left it behind because it was broken?”

“Maybe he ripped it off her,” Lydia fired back.

“Here you are.” JJ dropped a picture of a beautiful gold chain with a small pink jewel attached to it. And Lydia finally felt some relief.

“What is it?” Gideon asked.

“This isn’t Jenna’s necklace.”

~ ~ ~

“Lydia believes that part of our unsub’s ritual is taking his victim’s necklaces and leaving them on the next one. Lucy Max didn’t have any jewelry on her when we found her, but Elizabeth Chang had a broken necklace in her pocket, which we can’t identify as belonging to her and Lydia claims the one in Jenna’s pocket wasn’t hers either. And since he took all of Jenna’s necklaces, it looks like he plans to drop one on the following victim as well.”

Hotch shook his head. “That’s a lot of faith to put in a random college student. This could very easily have been placed.”

“I trust Lydia,” Gideon declared. “You should have seen her on the scene, Hotch. She’s a natural at this.”

“Yeah. Maybe she’s been studying up on you. We’ve seen that before. You said you could barely figure this girl out, how do we know she’s not manipulating our case?”

“She’s not,” Gideon insisted once more. “Listen, I’ll strike you a deal. Look into this. For me. We think this guy gets his high off of leaving hints as to who he is. Start with anything that might have significance to a necklace. If I’m wrong, I’ll do all the paperwork for the next 3 cases.”

“And if you’re right?” Hotch asked, not sure why he was even considering a deal now. But he was curious. And Gideon seemed set on the idea.

“If I’m right, you have to offer Lydia a job.”

~ ~ ~

Lydia woke up once again without any recollection of having fallen asleep. This time, however, she wasn’t in a hospital bed, which was a relief.

She found herself on a couch. In the police station. She sat up, worried about how long she must have been there, but no one had kicked her out yet. So… hopefully not long?

That’s when she identified the sound that had awoken her. A soft knocking came from the doorframe of the room she was in. She whipped around to find an exhausted Agent Gideon waiting for her attention.

“Sorry to disturb you Lydia, but we’re headed back to the jet, so you’ve got to leave the station.”

“Back to the jet?” She jumped from the couch. “Did you find him?”

“Yes… You were right.”

Lydia wanted to say something but found herself tripping over her own tongue. It felt as if a wave was crashing into her back. She was being pushed forward, away from the distraction of finding who did this to Jenna and instead down into the ocean

Grief was a bitch.

“I… I was right?” she asked.

Gideon started to explain the man they caught to her. Jonathan Carrey. She heard the key words as he said them: necklaces, pawn shops, mother, college girls, confession. But none of them formulated the actual accomplishment Lydia had been waiting for.

“Oh…”

She couldn’t react. Not anymore. All her energy was wasted. She was free from the strong compulsion to find out what had happened to Jenna and left with determination stats in the negatives.

“Lydia, do you have somewhere to go for now?”

She nodded.

“Okay… get some rest. You did good today.”

She felt like she was going to be sick. You did good…

She’s still dead.

And after some hesitance, Agent Gideon was gone.

Lydia picked up her phone, calling a friend to see if she could stay for a few nights.

Process. Cry. Move on. Rest.

She really needed that right now.

“Hey,” a soft voice called as she hung up the phone. This time, it was the strangely silent Dr. Reid who was watching her.

He sort of peaked in and waited for a response or invitation. After she didn’t give him any, just a blank, detached stare, he came in on his own terms

“Uh, I thought you might…” he drifted off, judging her expression before continuing. “I thought you might want these.”

He held open his hand to show her a small, knotted collection of necklaces.

“We recovered them from Jonathan Carrey’s shop. I was considering giving them to Jenna’s parents, but when we spoke to them, they didn’t seem to know as much about Jenna’s jewelry collection as you. So, I figured you’d appreciate them more.”

Lydia took them from him slowly, wrapping the chains around her fingers. Unexpectedly, a few tears slipped down her cheeks, but Lydia let them fall. She deserved it.

“Thank you, Dr. Reid.”

It was peculiar, but as he left, a single thought ran through his head:

With everything Lydia had been through, that was the first time he’d heard a tremble in her voice.

[paganvamp]

Saving Grace: Chapter 9

Maja runs into Rebekah... and learns something more about her curse.

Masterlist

1001 AD: Blood Ties

Luckily for Maja, Elijah decided they needed more than one afternoon to figure out what was happening between them. He had found her a room in their stately home that was tucked in a back corner in the servant’s wing, as far from his siblings as he could get her. Not that Maja thought a long walk or a locked door would stop the vampires if they decided they wanted her for a late night snack, but she admired the effort. The first day, she didn’t leave the room at all - Elijah visited her when he could slip away from Klaus or Rebekah, the only two likely to notice his absence, and they theorized until he felt the need to leave again. The second day, Maja decided it was ridiculous to hide in a room while in a house full of vampires — one way or another, they would notice her presence.

And she was right — the first time she left her room, she was discovered. Again, perhaps in another sign of divine luck, the vampire she happened to stumble upon was Rebekah.

“Maja?” Rebekah blinked at her for a moment, as though she might be a mirage. With no clue how she was meant to explain her being in Arles, let alone in their house, Maja simply smiled awkwardly.

“He-hello. How… are you?” She hadn’t had a true conversation with the other girl since her transition.

“In Arles, with no one but my brothers for company.” She sounded so forlorn that Maja blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Well, now there’s me.” Being Rebekah’s companion was not exactly what Maja had in mind when she spent months on a ship crossing the ocean, but the words were out and she could not take them back. Rebekah brightened considerably, and Maja found herself wishing she could set aside the thing Bekah had become and rekindle their old friendship.

“Now there is you.” The girl repeated. “When did you arrive?” That wasn’t the question she truly wanted to ask, but she was attempting politeness, which Maja supposed was kind.

“I reached Arles five days ago. I… spoke with Elijah the evening before last, and he gave me a room.”

“So that’s where he’s been sneaking off to.” The younger girl murmured the words to herself, as if proving a theory. To Maja, she asked, “Why did you come?” How to answer that?

“I… had to flee the village. With most of the people dead, the wolves did not feel the need to keep to their own spaces.” She was lying through her teeth and hoping Rebekah would not realize. “We thought we might start over again in a new land, and set sail for Arles. Within a few days, I had heard talk of your family and thought, perhaps, you or your brother might lend some assistance.”

“Is your whole family here?” Rebekah had always held a special fondness for Maja’s eldest brother, Tyvold.

“Only Nils and I could make the trip.” She purposely didn’t explain why the others couldn’t come. “And my parents…” Rebekah suddenly looked uncomfortable. Maja didn’t know which of the newly turned immortals had taken her mother’s life, but she had a feeling Rebekah knew quite well. “Elijah provided a room for Nils at a local inn.”

“But not you?” She really was smarter than most gave her credit for.

“Neither of them trusted I would be safe in the village.” That was true. Nils had been nervous since they’d arrived — a pretty young girl new to town and seemingly with nothing to tie her down practically screamed victim. The three nights before they’d located Elijah had been spent wherever they could find shelter. All things considered, her room in a house of vampires was quite comfortable.

“Yes, that sounds like Elijah.” Rebekah was still curious about Maja’s sudden appearance in her hallway, but she seemed content for the moment. “Well, then. You can’t very well sit in a dull old room all day, waiting for my brother to ‘sneak’ away and visit you. Though I suppose you’ve come to that conclusion as well, because you’re out in the hallway.” Rebekah grabbed Maja’s arm, looping it through her own the way they used to do when they walked around their village. “Let me show you around.”

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

To say Elijah was displeased would be an understatement, but there was little to be done about it now. After both he and Rebekah had discovered Kol would not be joining them for dinner that night — the one with actual food that Grace suspected they were having for her sake — they made her presence known to both Finn and Niklaus in time for her to join them for the meal.

Aside from the natural shock of finding her in their home, Finn was impassive as always, though he did express his disapproval, which was also not new. Klaus was surprised, as well, though also slightly amused for some reason. He was, of course, quite cross with his siblings for keeping such a thing from him and left Maja with an ominous warning to watch herself, especially around Kol. He delighted in informing her of how much her dear friend had changed after his transition — not because it upset her, of course, but because he knew it would likely irritate Kol. Dinner was a quick affair. Afterwards, Rebekah made it known that Maja would in fact become her companion, and that she would finish giving her the tour of the house tomorrow. Maja slept restlessly, worried that one of them might become too curious and discover the true reason she had come. She and Elijah were the keepers of a secret that could cost her life if discovered, and if anyone were to find them out, it would be the rest of the so-called Mikaelsons.

Before she knew it, Rebekah was at her door in lieu of a compelled servant, and the sun was shining in brightly through the window. She was given one of Rebekah’s dresses to wear — which meant it was too long and slightly ill-fitting — and whisked out the door. Rebekah began speaking as they headed toward a hall they had not seen yesterday.

“These rooms are technically ‘off-limits’, according to Nik, which of course means we’ve all been through them a hundred times.” She explained, pointing to the first door to their right. “Nik keeps that one as a study, full of books and scrolls and all manner of dull, boring things.” But as she began to point out another room, Maja felt her hem catch on her foot, and before she knew what was happening she was pitching forward. On instinct, she threw her arms out, scrambling for any sort of hold, and Rebekah - likely on instinct as well — held out her arms to catch her as she fell. As their limbs made contact in a supremely ungraceful manner, however, Maja felt her fingernail scrape down the length of the other girl’s forearm before righting herself.

They both watched as a very thin scratch mark appeared in the wake of her untrimmed nails, the skin breaking just enough so the smallest bit of a blood bubbled up. It healed almost instantly, of course, but they both continued to stare, as if neither one could actually believe that Maja had managed to draw blood on one of the world’s apex predators with a fingernail. A wave of dizziness rolled over her, not quite strong enough to mean she was going to have a vision. She shook it off and looked away from the other girl’s now blemish-free skin.

“I’m so sorry, Rebekah. My hem caught.” She felt slightly awkward, as if something in the air had changed. Or perhaps the energy surrounding them was suddenly different. Rebekah studied her for a moment before apparently shaking off the moment as well.

“No matter. We shall get it trimmed. Now, Nik has discovered a talent for art…” as she led them to another room, Maja had the strangest feeling of déjà vu… as if something like this had happened to her before.

[ghost-in-the-hella]

If you're still doing prompts, how about L: “Loving you is easy. Living with you takes some getting used to.” for Chasemarsh? Seems fitting for those two. ;)

I’m going to level with you here: I never thought I would write chasemarsh, ever. As someone who was bullied hard by girls a whole lot like Victoria when I was a teen, I’ve never super gotten her appeal. And since Victoria canonically bullies Kate to the point of (attempted or otherwise) suicide... Yeah, chasemarsh isn’t really my cup of tea to be honest. So I hope you don’t mind that I went a bit AU with this one and set it in a universe where they didn’t go to school together and therefore don’t have that bully/bullying victim dynamic.

---

Victoria’s never been an easy person to live with. She knows this about herself. A lifetime of excessive familial wealth compounded by parental neglect has left her utterly incapable of being a good roommate. She tends to forget that people who do not keep her insomniac hours do not generally appreciate loud music after midnight. That if you’re sharing a DVR with someone else they think it rude if you delete their shows to make room for your own before they’ve had a chance to watch them. She forgets that dishes left scattered around the apartment will not migrate to the dishwasher by themselves and will, in fact, grow mold if left to their own devices for long enough. That dirty clothes, too, do not magically launder themselves when you do not have servants to take care of them for you. That roommates, for that matter, are not servants and do not appreciate being treated as such. 

She’s lost more roommates than she can easily keep count of, honestly. 

And so Victoria has gotten used to living alone. It’s not necessarily her preference - she can’t cook worth a damn, for one thing, and she gets lonely much too easily - but it has long been her lot.

Until she met Kate. Beautiful, sweet Kate, who’s never had a roommate flee the apartment in terror or in fury once in her life. Good, kind Kate who never raises her voice, never turns aside a person in need, never has a rude word to say about anyone. Lovely, sensitive Kate who opens up to strangers like they’re her oldest friends, who trusts so easily and so completely, whose smile could make the sun rise on command.

She’s exactly the kind of girl Victoria would have absolutely tortured in high school without knowing why she felt so compelled to ruin her life. But Victoria’s twenty-eight now; she’s a grown-ass woman with a masters degree who hasn’t lived under her parents’ roof in almost a decade and who has finally found a decent therapist, and so when she met this humble, gentle, adorable woman she asked her out for coffee like a normal human being instead of tearing her down like the closeted, self-loathing bully she used to be.

One coffee date turned into weekly coffee dates, which turned into twice weekly dinner dates, which turned into changing their NodFace statuses together, which turned into Kate packing up her ludicrously undersized apartment and her cat and moving into Victoria’s ludicrously oversized apartment with her.

It’s been almost five years since Victoria officially deemed herself incapable of cohabitation and gave up on attempting to share her living space (it’s not like she can’t afford rent on her own, after all, so why subject others to her awful living habits?). Living with Kate after living alone for so long is… It’s wonderful, honestly. Weird, definitely, but wonderful. Kate’s aged and one-eyed rescue cat, Nicodemus, has already claimed Victoria’s most comfortable recliner as his own property, clawing the suede to shit and coating it with a thick layer of white fur. He sleeps at Kate’s feet most nights, and the sound of his purring is almost as restful as Kate’s soft and even breathing. Kate makes tea at least twice a day - usually Irish breakfast in the morning and camomile or something fruity at night - so the kitchen always smells warm and welcoming. When Kate has time she cooks, and when she doesn’t they either have leftovers or Victoria orders in. Kate never forgets her turn to clean out Nico’s litter box, never forgets to put her dishes in the dishwasher, never neglects to put her laundry right in the hamper where it belongs.

Kate’s great to live with. The perfect girlfriend and the perfect roommate. 

Victoria is… trying. So hard. She’s trying to remember to at least put her dishes in the sink or the washer instead of leaving them around the house until she runs out of clean dishes. She’s trying to make sure her laundry actually finds its way into the hamper, and she succeeds about eight times out of ten. She’s trying to remember to feed the cat when it’s her turn, to not delete Kate’s shows off the DVR, to not make too much noise when she wakes up in the middle of the night, to only take up one space in the driveway. She’s trying to clean up her own messes. She’s trying not to take advantage of Kate’s generosity.

Victoria is trying, but Victoria is failing. She realizes this when she returns from her morning jog and finds Kate curled up with Nico in “his” chair with her morning cup of tea and tears rolling down her cheeks. The coffee table is crowded with photography books, Victoria’s coffee cups from the last three (at least) days, and the Chinese takeout containers from last night that Victoria had sworn up and down she would put in the fridge. The smell of expired Chinese food nearly drowns out the earthy scent of Kate’s tea completely. Beneath that, Victoria can smell the litter box she was supposed to scoop out this morning before she left because it’s her turn and she forgot again. There are several places on the floor where it looks like Victoria melted into a puddle and left her clothes behind as they fell from her liquified body.

Kate looks up over the mess to Victoria, her sweet brow creased and her gentle eyes shimmering with tears. 

“Katie…” Victoria’s eyes dart around the room, taking in the now obvious overwhelm. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up. I’ll fix it. I’m so sorry.”

Kate gestures helplessly at the disaster of a room around her. “Tori, I… This is horrible. I can’t relax like this. I’ll help, but I can’t do all of it. I’ve got work in an hour, and I can’t--”

Tears spring to Victoria’s eyes. Her head is spinning. She’s been here before too many times: a roommate cowering in horror of the trainwreck that is Victoria’s life, absolutely at her wit’s end with Victoria’s failings. “Katie, I swear, I’ll do better, I promise. Please don’t leave. I know I’m a mess, and this is all my fault, and you can’t take it anymore, but please don’t hate me. Please stay with me; I can’t lose you.”

“Hey,” Kate says tenderly, uncurling her hand from around Nico to beckon Victoria over. “Tori, sweetheart, I’m not leaving and I don’t hate you. I love you. Come here.”

Victoria wades through the mess and kneels by Kate’s side. Nico’s cool, wet nose sniffs at her forehead a couple of times before he loses interest and resumes sleeping on Kate’s lap, blissfully oblivious to Victoria’s heart breaking in her chest. She rests her head gratefully on the soothing warmth of Kate’s thigh, and Kate’s hand rests lightly in her hair, stroking it soothingly. “I’m sorry, Katie. I know I’m a nightmare to live with. I should have warned you before you moved in so you wouldn’t be stuck with me.” Tears weigh down Victoria’s eyelashes as her brain counts up her countless failings as a life partner and as a human being. “I don’t know why you love me,” she mumbles. “I’m a miserable person. I’m unloveable.”

“Victoria Chase,” Kate says softly but in a voice that brooks no argument. “You are not unloveable. Loving you is easy.” She glances around and giggles a bit despite her red-rimmed eyes. “Living with you takes some getting used to.” She brushes Victoria’s bangs out of her teary eyes gently enough that Victoria can actually believe that she is beloved. “But hey. We’ll both work on it. Together. Okay?”

“Okay,” Victoria sighs into the comfort of Kate’s skin, and she lets the tension drain from her shoulders. She isn’t perfect, and she never will be. But she’s becoming a better person every day. And if Kate is willing to stay with her through it, maybe she can become a better roommate, too.

[johnkrrasinski]

Coffee with Cream

Chapter 2: Dream of You

full masterlist

series masterlist

Pairings: Frank Castle x reader x Mad Sweeney

Word count: 2,693

Warnings: cussing, mentions of alcohol, street fight, men being men. 

Summary: Two men, one diner and little old you. Working at a diner had never been your dream job but, fate had a funny way of bringing two contrasted men into your life.

a/n: hey guys! as you all know my obsession over frank castle and pablo schreiber had been exploding these past couple of months. and so, me and @nellblazer decided to write a good old threesome fic involving these two bulky men. hope you like it. enjoy!

You laid in your bed that night with a romance novel that you hadn't had the chance to pick up and finish in awhile due to the weariness of working double shifts. It's the same old pattern for the last few years; you'd get up early for your morning shift at the diner, rushed back home to take a little break, and possibly enjoy your catnaps before your second alarm rings for your night shift. 

And then when the night was ending, you'd take another bus to get yourself home, take a shower and eat your takeout or heat up your frozen pizza, and went to bed. For years, life was merely a repetitive cycle of humdrum. You barely had time for yourself due to your relentless endeavour to stay afloat. 

Living in Brooklyn when you come from a middle-class family means that you really had to fight tooth and nail to pay the bills and fill your fridge. You were raised to be an independent and hardworking person by your parents and that's why it wasn't much of a challenge for you to work double shifts at a diner when you could've taken one. You taught yourself to push through your boundaries in life, and you were aware that sometimes it's not always convenient but at least you were proud of your own effort. 

That also means you didn't have time to swipe right and left on Tinder and find yourself a date. It was nearly impossible to find a decent guy in Brooklyn, let alone trusting a dating app that could possibly be utilized by creeps or murderers to find their next victim. Although your co-workers had suggested it many times to you, you refused to present yourself to the angels of death just simply you were desperate to get laid. 

But tonight was different from the others. It was comical, really, how one, well, two, actually people could walk into your life, okay that was dramatic, walk into a diner and elevated the sour mood that you had grown used to in recent years, and made a difference. A good one.

You couldn't remember the last time you had a genuine smile on your face. You also couldn't remember when was the last time you felt butterflies in your stomach. And here you are, lying in bed, replaying the scenes that took place earlier. In the daylight when the bustle was in full swing and in the nighttime when the city was placid.

You barely knew anything about them and you had only met them in less than 24 hours, but, you could still remember the way Frank Castle made you feel when his brown eyes stared intensely into yours as he shook your hand. The quiet yet magnetic force that he exuded only compelled you to learn more about him. In the brief conversation that you had earlier, you knew that he was a wanderer of a man.

He'd been hoping from one place to another, but he was thinking of staying in Brooklyn for a while and you were hoping that nothing changes his mind about that. You were really hoping that you'd see him again real soon.

And then, your thoughts drifted to the second man that you encountered with earlier. His auburn hair burned the lights in the room, causing a small fire that you didn't light up. But his amorous words had left you starstruck in a way that you didn't know was possible. You weren't one to stumble on a brazenly flirtatious man but something about him was too tempting to be overlooked. And the fact that he had this eccentric thing for coins made you wonder... What else has he got up in his sleeve?

Sweeney hadn't been able to get you off his mind all night.

The grumpy server who'd taken over had definitely not been a patch on your sunny optimism or brimming curiosity. He couldn't remember the last time a girl was so interested in his stories. Usually he got brushed off as a leering drunk or just a plain old letch but you'd entertained him, asked questions and given him a form of fresh cream to boot, all for him. A form of worship as it was.

You hadn't realised it of course, nobody ever believes in gods these days unless they're the Big Three or the Norse pantheon. Little old Sweeney with his Celtic cohort was hardly going to register on anyone's radar. I mean, fuck, nobody could even say his actual name right, let alone believe he was a god.

Even so, he felt refreshed, more refreshed than he'd been in years and when he got absolutely blasted on whiskey, the feeling was not the same as it was. The crippling existentialism was gone to be replaced by joyfulness and he sang most of the way home, thoroughly amusing everyone on his way back with his rude songs. He even danced with an old lady like they used to do in the twenties which he thought had made her night as she blushed furiously and began saying it'd been a while since she'd danced with a young man in the street.

Sweeney was having the time of his life, precisely up until he got in the alleyway and his loud singing got him into trouble.

There was a group of thugs hanging around in the middle, trying to sort something out but Sweeney didn't care to venture too close to find out what precisely.

“-Well I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me, who owns that thing in your thing where my own thing should be!” he belts out, stumbling slightly in their direction and he sees the flash of irritation on their faces.

The next thing he knew he was getting dog piled on. Bodies seemed to leap on him from every corner and all he could think about was protecting his coin at all costs so he sent it in the Hoard, the magical hiding place for his treasure and once he'd taken a few harsh licks to the gut, he tried to pull himself together to fight back.

Drunken brawling was his speciality after all.

He wasn't expecting it when a couple of the gang members were yanked off of him. He took the opportunity to jump back to his feet, delivering a haymaker to the nearest lad who's cheek splintered under his weighted punch. The kid dropped to the floor like a stone, howling about his face.

The next man behind him, he twisted and grabbed around the middle, running them backwards to the edge of a dumpster before letting go and watching his head clang noisily off the metal as they fell backwards.

Oh it had been a good long while since he'd had a fight. He missed the adrenalin, he missed the cracking of bones and the taste of blood. It spoke to his soul that was millennia old when the world was war, ale and feasting.

Sweeney finally looked up to see that another man was fighting with him, a shorter man, stockier and well built, a nose that'd been broken at least once and the buzzcut styling of an ex-military man. The newcomer shifted his position and Sweeney saw a painted skull on his chest. His first thought was that Baron Samedi was expanding his worshipper's network but it didn't make sense for the Baron to recruit a soldier when he preferred his company to be a little more love and less war.

Who the fucking hell was this guy?

“You okay?” the man asks gruffly as he sees Sweeney staring at him. “Get out. Run.”

“I ain't fuckin' runnin',” Sweeney wrinkles his face in offence. “Do I look like a pansy to you?”

“You look fuckin' drunk is what ya look,” Skull Man counters, elbowing an attacker in the mouth. “I'll handle it. Run home.”

“Callin' me a coward?” Sweeney squares up. “I don't run, boy-o.”

“Really?” Skull Man raises an eyebrow. “Ain't the time for pride, Big Red. Fight or don't fight then. I don't care. Just stay outta my way with that one.”

He points to the man who Sweeney had knocked out on the dumpster. His eyelids were fluttering as he started to regain consciousness.

“What's it worth to ya?” Sweeney shrugs.

“Are you fuckin' kidding me?!” Skull Man storms over, coming up until he was chest to chest. “I save your ass and this is what I get?”

“Didn't ask to be saved, lad.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, right back.”

Just at the point where Sweeney is curling his fingers into a fist, ready to give a good old right hook, he's hit hard in the head from behind and goes down onto his forearms, scuffing them with pebbles and dirt. He scrambles unsteadily to his feet, feeling a little trickle of blood oozing down the path of his hair and sees Skull Man beating the living shit out of the dumpster guy before finishing him off with his bare hands.

Sweeney, meanwhile, jumps back into the fist fight, taking down every other gang member who'd dared to get back up. They make a break for it, running desperately down into the other alleyways and out of sight.

“You'd better run!” Sweeney bellows after them. “You'd all be fucked if I still had my spear. I WAS A FUCKING KING ONCE, YOU CUNTS!”

“I've heard some drunk talk in my time but you...” Skull Man shakes his head. “You're crazy, huh?”

“I'm a god, mate,” Sweeney holds out his arms proudly, swaying on the spot.

“Sure ya are.”

“And what the fuck are you, murderer?”

“Nobody you need to know about. You ain't seen me. I don't exist. I'm just taking out the trash of this city.”

“Oh aye? Are ya? And what did he do?”

“Shot up a playground.”

“Oh...” Sweeney tails off, looking at the dead man on the floor. “Well....good then. Good work. Bastard deserved it.”

He holds out his hand and Skull Man shakes it warily. Sweeney got the sense the guy didn't interact with people much because the handshake was stilted, unsure.

“Got a name?” Sweeney asks. “Or are ya hellbent on being mysterious?”

“It's Frank,” the guy replies after a pause. “But I was-

“-Never here, I got that,” Sweeney snorts. “I'm Sweeney.”

“Sweeney the God. A'ight, go on home then. I got clean up to do.”

“Nice fightin', by the way,” Sweeney calls over his shoulder. “See ya around, Frank.”

“I fuckin' hope not,” comes the quiet response.

Sweeney didn't care though. He was too elated to care. Good booze, a good fight and the promise of going back to that sweet little diner where you were.

He'd have to come in earlier just to spend more time around you. He wanted to know everything about you and more than anything, he wanted to see your smile again.

A god he may be but your smile was absolutely magical.

He sang the whole rest of the way home, already looking forward to tomorrow.

[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 4)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 3181

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​, @carryonmyswansong​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

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

“How’s it going?” Spence asked over the phone. 

“Good. Nearly one month down,” you stated with a bit of a smile.

“I know. It’s crazy. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, sweetie.” 

“How is school?” 

“Ah, it’s alright. You wouldn’t believe how awful some of these students’ handwriting is though. My god, it’s like deciphering hieroglyphics.” 

“Actually hieroglyphs are easy to translate since they use pictures to depict their meanings it’s rather easy to interpret them once you know what you’re looking at.” 

A grin fell onto your face easily. “I love when you tell me random facts.” 

“I love that you love it and it doesn’t make you want to roll your eyes.” 

“Never.” 

“And the apartment?”

“It’s not as big as I’d like, but it’s practical. I have a bedroom, small living room, kitchenette. So it works. I just need a place to store my crap. Speaking of, you can go ahead and send down those other boxes of clothes, I’m going to need ‘em.” 

“Sure thing. Made any breaks in the case yet, or have you had time?” 

“I’ve had time. I actually got to question all of the Miami PD.” 

“Oh yeah? How did that go?” 

“Overall, it just helped in crossing off that most of them aren’t suspect to doing it.” 

“Most?”

“Eh, I don’t like saying for sure none of them did it because it just strikes me as funny that seven of them went through the Miami PD. Not the county or state, just the city.” 

“It’s a good a lead as any.” 

“Yeah tomorrow I think I’ll start my questioning of the families and social circles. Garcia already pulled the addresses of next of kin and work for me. I’ll go to the workplaces when I can before and after class, and hit up the residences at night.”

“You’re going to figure this out. I know you can. But don’t over work yourself.”

“I won’t. How is everything there?” 

“Good. It would be easier if you were here but…” 

“I know. How is everyone holding up?” 

“Pretty good. I think Emily and Garcia miss you most. Garcia asks about you nearly every day,” he informed with a laugh. 

“Yeah, I miss them too.” 

“How has this been, by the way? The break? Do you feel like you’re getting the break you need?” 

You paused for a moment, a little unsure what he was referring to, but then you remembered how you told him you wanted to leave the crime fighting behind for a bit. “Yeah, I do actually. I know I’m investigating this case but it’s just one case and I can plan it out. I’m sure if I had the team it would be easier but since we weren’t called into it…” 

“Yeah,” he agreed. 

“But it is helping. I mean most of my time involves the university work, and I’m just doing this on the side to keep me from going insane.”

“So you don’t feel like you’re just repeating what’s being done here? Chasing a case, that might not even have an unsub?” 

“It might not, but something tells me it does.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know, Spence. Yes, technically all of these could not be related. But something feels off.”

“It is Miami, it’s not exactly a place people come to settle down.”

“I know that, but why would a guy who is well to do in the community with a wife and kids just disappear? Even if he’s involved in something illegal, clearly no one down here was closing in on him. Or why did a woman who was in nursing school with a boyfriend for three years just vanish? These don’t add up. Even if they were seemingly good citizens they poofed out of existence alongside these criminals.” 

“That’s what I love about you. You see past things like that. I know you’ll make this right and find out the truth.” 

You smiled at his words. “Thank you, sweetie. That means a lot.” 

“Do you think you could come up soon? Just for a weekend?” 

“I’ll try. I don’t know when though because I’m about to give my first exam and then midterms…”

“Yeah, not to mention I won’t know when we’ll get called away to a case…”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a hefty sigh. This would be hard navigating when you could see each other. “I guess I really didn’t think about how hard this would be.”

“Yeah, me either. I’m so used to seeing you, the thought of not seeing you at all for months is…”

That’s all he could get out before he stopped. 

“Hey, we will find a time. If nothing else, I have all of spring break.” 

“Yeah, that’s true. It’ll be here before we know it.” 

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

You ran through the investigation through the week and interviewed almost all of the families, sixteen to be exact. The stories weren’t always the same. Some families felt that yeah, their loved one could’ve totally ran off. Some employees said the missing person never missed a day of work in their life. Others said their loved ones didn’t even leave the house without saying goodbye to everyone and texting if they would be late.

Something didn’t add up.

No matter how bad you wanted to say that some of these people may have gone AWOL, something told you that these people were victims of a crime. So you researched, hard, looking up everything you could on Dexter Morgan. 

He was a foster child and Debra isn’t his biological sister. He just began dating, seriously, for the first time since what seems like high school. His father was a cop -- bingo. That’s how he knew what to do and what to look for. Having rubber gloves on hand as a forensics specialist would be an easy cover too, in case he ever needed them for his own crime. 

It was him. You knew it had to be him. Everything pointed to him.

Okay, well not everything, but a lot of this was compelling. 

You just needed to put him at the scene and time of all of these abductions…

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

After class the next day, you decided to call in for a search warrant of Dexter’s residence. It was a long shot but it was a gut feeling and your department knew how accurate your gut was. You picked up your cell phone and were about to call your director.

But suddenly, something funny, something… strange twisted inside you. 

This man… This… Dexter. Unless he was doing some sort of weird balancing the universe act, he clearly had an MO for criminals. He wanted scum off the streets just like you did. 

What if… what if you didn’t… turn Dexter Morgan in? 

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

You stood at his door, knocking three times. He answered it and you grinned.

“Hello again, Dexter,” you greeted with a sinister grin.

“Dr. Reid, so good to see you again,” he stated, and you knew he was lying. 

“You’re a serial killer,” you confidently declared as you stood right on his threshold staring at him. 

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

Tagging:

Forever Tag:

@essie1876​​​

@magpiegirl80​​​

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​​

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification​​​

@thejemersoninferno​​​

@rda1989​​​

@munlis​​​

@thefridgeismybestie​​​

@bubblyanarocks3​​​

@igiveupicantthinkofausername​​​

@kaliforniacoastalteens​​​

@feelmyroarrrr​​​​

@kaeling

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​​

@damalseer​​​

@heyitscam99​​​

@yknott81​​​

@thelittlebigirl​​​

@glitterquadricorn​​​

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm​​​

@alyssaj23​​​

@sea040561​​​

@princess76179​​​

@thisismysecrethappyplace​​​

@sarahp879​​​

@malfoysqueen14​​​

@ellallheart​​​

@breezy1415​​​

@marvelmayo​​​

@paintballkid711​​​

Spencer Reid

@camigt1999​​​

@ultrarebelheart​​​

@lenawiinchester​​​

@esoltis280​

[bcbdrums]

What Is True

FFn link --> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13666708/1/What-Is-True

For @drakgoprompts no. 5, “Emotion Sickness Aftermath.”

Also inspired by @cocoa-at-night‘s answer to the prompt with her lovely art for the prompt!  Please look at it first!!!

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

Shego rolled over in bed again, tossing her hair carelessly. She didn't know how many times she had rolled over, but it was enough to now be annoying her as much as the inability to sleep.

She had barely slept for three days, since the incident with the mood-altering device that had inadvertently fallen on her during the most recent caper. Her wild memories of the events that had occurred kept playing in her mind on an endless sequential repeat, the way Holiday Tale did on Christmas Day each year on that one cable channel. She couldn't stop thinking about how she had been fully invested in her actions, every step of the way...

It frightened her. She had been unable to stop crying over a broken nail. And then she was mad at Drakken for not caring. Until she wasn't. Until she wanted nothing more than for him to put his arms around her. And then she cried because he wasn't spending all of his attention on her. And then the sadness turned to rage.

The scariest thing was...she could still access the emotions if she tried. She could feel the sadness, the anger, and...the...

What did she call the feeling she'd spent most of the day having toward Drakken? It wasn't lust. It wasn't a crush. It was something else... Something...deeper, that combined elements of the two.

It wasn't love. It couldn't be love... What was love anyway? She'd never been in love. It couldn't be love...

She rolled over again, and then finally sat up, tossing her hair back in frustration. She reached behind her neck and touched the aching, stinging spot where the little device had been.

Drakken had moved on. He set the henchmen to cleaning the lab that had been ruined by melted snow, and was off elsewhere in the lair working on something smaller until the lab was back to operational conditions. When Shego came out of her room to eat or to see if there was anything new planned, he acted almost as if nothing had happened. He was content to chalk the situation up to the technology and let it go.

But Shego couldn't.

She got out of bed and after dressing, stormed through the halls in search of Drakken. She wasn't entirely sure why she felt compelled to talk to him, but she did know that she wouldn't be able to sleep that night unless something changed.

She found him in the den, sitting behind his desk while a fire roared in the fireplace. He was flipping through a brochure for the upcoming villain convention and circling something on the current page.

"Drakken!"

He dropped his pen and looked up, startled. For once he didn't call out or look annoyed. But Shego was too tired and too riled up from her own stress to notice.

"Why didn't you take advantage of me!"

Drakken's eyes widened and he sank back in his chair, as if trying to disappear. Shego's hand flew to her mouth. She hadn't planned to say those words... They just came out. She stared at Drakken, who stared back, equally at a loss.

"Wh-what?" Drakken asked in a meek voice.

Shego's heart was pounding. But she couldn't take it back...

"Y-you heard me," she said shakily, and then, with more assurance, "Answer the question."

Drakken's shock turned into affront. "That...that would have been wrong, Shego!"

Shego's jaw slowly dropped as he began to ramble about the morals his mother taught him, his uncertainty over her out of character behavior, and how really, he just wanted to enact his plan. The EMA was the perfect beginning to his eventual global domination...

Shego shook her head and stepped closer as he went on, gesticulating wildly as he bemoaned the recent failure due to Kim Possible's unexpected appearance.

"So, so let me get this straight," she interrupted, setting her hands on his desk and leaning forward. "Your plan was more interesting than a beautiful woman throwing herself at you? What are you...are you gay, or impotent, or something?"

Drakken's face then looked like she'd never seen. His brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed, his lips pursed, and his cheeks blushing nearly purple as he seemed unable to decide which emotion to respond with. But she held her ground, glaring at him as she waited for an answer.

And then it suddenly hit her... What answer, exactly, was she hoping for?

"No!" Drakken burst out, deciding apparently on anger. "I was concentrating on trying to cause mass chaos and destruction that would lead to my ruling the world! You— You...wait," he slowed down, his expression suddenly growing nervous. "Did you...want me to...make a move?"

Shego stood up suddenly as her face flushed crimson.

"No!" she spat back before any other thought dared enter her head. "If you had you wouldn't be alive to have this conversation."

Drakken's eyes flashed in fear as he leaned back further, pushing the chair slightly away from the desk. And then his expression fell back to confusion as he peered at her. Confusion, and caution. He moved his hands to his lap and twiddled his thumbs.

Shego sighed. "I'm just...surprised, I guess. Most men would have taken advantage of the situation."

Drakken's expression hardened slightly. "I'm a gentleman, Shego."

Shego looked at him for anything but honesty, but...that's all there was in his eyes. And she was no closer to understanding her own feelings about everything.

As a silence grew between them, Drakken looked more and more like he wanted to say something. Sudden fear over what it might be propelled her speak again.

"Thanks. For...being a gentleman. Guess I'll stick around," she said with a small laugh, hoping that would be enough explanation for her interrupting his evening.

But it still gave her no further answers about why she'd enjoyed kissing him in that photo booth...and why the memory was still positive. Shouldn't it disgust her?

She touched the sore spot on her neck as her gaze drifted to the fire as she worried about why she couldn't get that day out of her mind. And why she kept finding herself wondering why he didn't kiss her back... Why he just seemed to tolerate her romantic advances...

"Is your neck still hurting where that...thing was on you?" Drakken asked.

Shego blinked back into focus and realized she was still touching her neck.

"Oh. Yeah."

Drakken looked like he wanted to say something again. Shego's fingers brushed a spot on her neck that stung, and she winced.

"Uhm. Could you...look at it? I can't see it really well with the mirror."

Drakken's brow rose. He left the chair and approached her silently, cautiously lifting a hand. She spun around and pushed her hair over right shoulder, suddenly feeling a bit unsteady on her feet. Or was her stomach turning over? Or both...

"Ah..." Drakken said. She felt his fingers at the edge of her collar.

"What?"

"Could you...move your collar down somehow? The device was partially beneath it."

Shego felt her stomach turn over again as she unzipped the front of her suit. She suddenly, inexplicably felt like her legs wouldn't hold her up.

"Hold on, uh...can we sit down?" she said while moving to do so, dropping on her knees in front of the fireplace.

"Ah..." Drakken said, following her down. He sat behind her, and Shego stiffened slightly as she felt his hand gently touch her left arm, just above her elbow. She felt her collar pulled down very slightly with his other hand, the garment moving freely now that her suit was undone.

Drakken didn't make a sound as he apparently looked at the injured spot on her neck. The silence made Shego even more uneasy.

"Is it bad?" she asked.

"It...yes," Drakken said plainly. Shego's brow shot up, and she listened as he described the wound. "You remember the device was round and had those little...clamps, to anchor into the victim?"

"Yes..." Shego said, wondering at his choice of the last word.

"There is bleeding beneath the skin where each clamp was... And you have a bad electrical burn in the center, and more subcutaneous bleeding."

His gloved fingers ghosted over the pained spot, and then vanished.

Shego sighed as her thoughts zeroed in on one thing for once that night. He hadn't exactly called her a victim. But it's what she had been... A technology they didn't understand driving her...and leaving her mind so mixed up now it was gone, she didn't know what was true anymore.

Except...for one thing. There was one thing she could still be sure of.

"Dr. D.?" she said, her gaze dropping to her lap without focus. She tugged on the ends of her hair lightly.

"Yes...Shego?"

"Thanks...for being a gentleman."

"Shego... I would never dream of...of..."

He sounded anxious as his words trailed off. She thought back to well over a year before, when he had put her under mind control for an experiment and made a mockery of her throughout the experience. But of all the things he had done then...what stood out must was what he hadn't done.

Her heart was racing. No matter what that strange mood-altering device had done to her...and know matter how mixed up she was... She knew she could always be sure of him.

His hand was still inexplicably resting on her left arm. Why had he put it there? She crossed her arms and set the fingers of her right hand lightly over his.

"Dr. D. I know."

[not-majestic-bluenicorn]

The Vampire’s Kiss || Jimin x Taehyung One-Shot

Fandom(s): BTS

AU: Non-idols

Prompts: Costume Contest ( @btsholidaybingo​ ), Costumes

Genre: Fluff

Relationship: Platonic!Jimin x Taehyung

Language: English

Status: Finished

WC: 1,593 words

Warnings: Body-horror make-up (I think it applies?)

Summary:

Jimin is so very convincing, that Taehyung can't say no to him when he drags him to a costume party.

Author’s note: It’s been more than a week since Halloween but that’s not stopping me.

AO3

Tae didn’t knock as he walked into Jimin’s apartment. There was no need, since he had a key after all. Jimin had agreed to do his makeup for that night’s Halloween costume party, as it had been Taehyung’s only requirement before he agreed to accompany his best friend to the event. It wasn’t that he didn’t particularly like costume parties, but he also wasn’t overly interested in going. Jimin was a very convincing person though, so he always ended up agreeing to go.

His costume was going to be simple: a vampire. He was certain that there was no way of doing it wrong if he just went with a classic outfit. Jimin hadn’t even complained about it, content enough with Taehyung accompanying him. He knew Jimin was planning to compete for the position of the best costume. Though he was not prepared when Jimin greeted him with a long white robe and multiple, very detailed eyes painted on his face.

“Fuck-!” Taehyung yelled, taking a step back.

“What? Scared?” Jimin smiled, blinking his two real eyes.

“At the very least, I’m quite uncomfortable…” Taehyung mumbled. He looked at Jimin for real this time, and he had to admit that, even with all those… eyes, he was incredibly beautiful, as always.

“Good enough,” Jimin smiled, shrugging it off and returning to his mirror. “I’m almost done, just wait for me over there.” He gestured vaguely with his hand as he went back to working on his makeup.

Taehyung made a beeline to Jimin’s room before flopping on his bed, awkwardly getting his vampire cape all bundled under him. Without noticing it, Taehyung fell asleep while waiting for Jimin. He was woken up when he felt the bed dip next to him. He opened his eyes and encountered Jimin maneuvering around his robe to straddle him. Taehyung gulped, looking up at him.

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty.” Jimin smiled wide at him.

He focused on his real eyes, because the illusion provoked by the fake ones made him a little dizzy. Jimin had brought his bag of makeup with him and was rummaging through it. Taehyung let his heart jump around his chest as he looked at Jimin’s focused face, and felt a surge of appreciation for his friend, his soulmate. 

“I’m going to turn you into a very sexy vampire, just stay still~” Jimin hummed, grabbing a pen to fill Taehyung’s eyebrows a little.

“Just a normal vampire is okay.” Taehyung muttered, compelled to keep quiet as Jimin was focused on the makeup.

“No can do, you’re the one bringing the ‘sexy’ into the costume.” Jimin shrugged. He grinned and finished filling the eyebrows before grabbing a white powder to make Taehyung look paler.

Jimin covered Taehyung’s face and neck in the white powder before moving on to his eyes. He outlined his eyes and added dark eyeshadow under them to make them look deep and brooding -and also like he hadn’t slept in milenia-. He then took a deep red lipstick and asked Taehyung to keep his lips slightly apart.

“Shouldn’t my lips be pale like the rest of my face?” Taehyung asked, a bit confused.

“Probably, but I don’t think you’ll be attracting any unfortunate victims with dry, pale lips.” Jimin tutted, opening the lipstick.

“What if the only victim I want to attract is you?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

“Good try, Mr. Vampire,” Jimin grinned, although his face did flush slightly under the makeup.

“You just want to see me with red lipstick, don’t you?” Taehyung frowned slightly, pouting.

“Bingo,” Jimin chuckled. “I’m just kidding, come on, it’ll look really good on you.”

Taehyung ended up letting Jimin put the lipstick on him, because Jimin was terribly convincing -and also very right, since the red lipstick did look great on him-. Afterwards, Jimin kicked him out of the apartment so he could finish getting ready without spying on him. Taehyung was only slightly bitter about it, because he forgot all about it once Jimin came out in full costume.

He was glad, when they arrived at the party, that other people were staring with their gaping mouths at Jimin, because that way he wasn’t the only fool who had done so. It was difficult not to stare though. With his white garments, Jimin shone amidst the sea of dark colors. Plus, his costume was very eye catching. Taehyung wondered how long it had taken him to prepare it.

Jimin was wearing a simple, pristine white robe. The impressive part were the wings though: three pairs of white feathered wings encased his figure. Two were on his back and extended past his arms. Two that “came” out from his lower back and hung towards the floor. And a couple smaller ones that came out from his head and partly covered his eyes, so that when you approached him, the detailed makeup took you by surprise. He was also wearing some very tall high-heels that Taehyung didn’t envy, but they made Jimin look even more graceful as he walked around.

His own costume was far more simple and traditional -a simple black cape with formal attire underneath- as he wasn’t planning to participate in the contest. Jimin, however, had dressed to win. Taehyung was obviously rooting for him, but he had to admit there were some other very elaborate costumes in the contest. The contest wouldn’t begin until later though, so while they waited they would have fun.

After Taehyung had gotten them some drinks, Jimin pulled him towards the dance floor, being very mindful of his costume. It was fun, just dancing together and forgetting for a second about the rest of their responsibilities. Taehyung enjoyed making Jimin spin by holding his hand, even if the wings hit him while he did so. It was fun, and what mattered the most was that they had fun together.

Finally, the holders of the contest called the participants to a little makeshift stage so that they could showcase their costumes and the crowd could submit their votes. Taehyung screamed loudly when Jimin passed to the front, making him laugh. He wasted no time casting his vote for Jimin, and received him with open arms as they waited for the results to be announced.

“I bet you did amazing, don’t be so nervous.” Taehyung reassured him, arms wrapped around Jimin’s middle (the only area of his back that wasn’t covered by the wings).

“Still, there were some really amazing costumes up there,” Jimin pouted. “I’m afraid that my efforts weren’t enough.

“If it’s any consolation, I voted for you.” Taehyung smiled.

“You’re my soulmate for a reason,” Jimin chuckled, patting Taehyung on the arm.

One of the organizers made their way to the microphone and claimed everyone’s attention as it was time to announce the first three places of the competition. Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s hand tightly, feeling even more nervous than Jimin himself, since he didn’t want to see him disappointed.

“On third place, Chenle with his “It” costume!” They said, and the crowd broke into an applause as a somewhat short person stepped on stage with a red balloon. Taehyung had to admit he looked very terrifying. 

“In second place we have Jimin, the angel!” The crowd burst into applause once again. Despite the smile on Jimin’s face as he walked towards the stage, Taehyung already knew he would have to deal with a very pouty friend later.

“Finally, we have Chanyeol with his Iron Man costume in the first place! Congratulations!” The person announced finally. Everyone applauded and congratulated the winners. They received a litte badge and a coupon they could later exchange for their prize money, since giving the money out in public could be a bit dangerous.

As soon as Jimin got off the stage, he began pouting. Taehyung was already prepared though, and as soon as Jimin got next to him, Taehyung pulled him away to a more private place so Jimin could complain to his heart’s content. Taehyung held both his hands, swinging them gently between them while Jimin complained about not winning.

“You still got second place though,” Taehyung reminded him quietly. “You did amazing.”

“But I wanted to win…” Jimin sighed.

“You’re first place for me,” Taehyung insisted. Jimin’s whining was adorable and it made him smile.

“Give me a prize then.” Jimin pouted even more, knowing fully well that Taehyung was too whipped to refuse him.

“Okay, what do you want?” Taehyung chuckled.

“Hmm,” Jimin pretended to consider it for a second, but his eyes -the real ones- were already on Taehyung’s lips. “A kiss?”

“I knew you didn’t put this lipstick on me for nothing,” Taehyung muttered, rolling his eyes. Jimin let out a chuckle as he pulled on Taehyung’s hands. “Okay, a kiss for my little angel then.”

Taehyung leaned in and kissed Jimin, softly. The feathers of the small wings tickled his face slightly, but it wasn’t too bothersome. He could feel Jimin’s soft lips under the makeup he had used to paint his face, and it was nice. It wasn’t the first time they had ever kissed, but it wasn’t something they did often either. Taehyung liked kissing Jimin occasionally though, and that was all that mattered.

“Your lips are red now,” Taehyung pointed out once they broke apart. “It makes your make-up look funny.”

“It’s fine, I already lost anyway,” Jimin giggled. He hooked his arm around Taehyung’s and began walking. “I’ll do better next year and win.”

“Of course you will,” Taehyung nodded, smiling as they went back to the party.

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

How is arya’s arc tying into the battle? I don’t watch the show all that closely but I enjoy hearing people get really animated about the show and the characters :-)

“What do we say to the god of Death?”

Arya has been a servant of Death since shortly after Gendry was taken away from her in season 3. She told Beric Dondarrion that Death was her god. She travelled to Braavos to learn the way of an order of assassins who consider Death—or the many-faced-god—to be their one true god. Her motivation is to avenge her dead, and she does that by offering names to her god in the form of a kill list she recites to herself like a prayer. Death is her friend and her leader and a force she feels she knows, and being a harbinger of death has been the only thing to bring her satisfaction—not happiness, satisfaction—over the course of many years.

But emotionally? Mentally? Death has done her no good at all, just drove her deeper and deeper into her own darkness, compelling her to travel to truly disturbing lengths to exact her vengeance. And yes, along the way she has picked up these immensely impressive combat and stealth skills (no word yet on how she learned to seduce men, but I think that might have just been naturally ingrained in her soul), including the ability to fight whilst totally blind, but any relief she ever felt at a successful kill was perfunctory, the way a band-aid might relieve a bullet wound for a hot second.

What Arya was meant to say to the god of Death was, “Not today,” but that was swallowed up by pain and heartache, and she welcomed Death with open arms instead.

The only reason that Arya fell so deeply in with her god of Death in the first place is because the people she loved—her family, her friends, her soft places—were taken from her, one by one, and in the most vile and cruelest of ways. She was present for her father’s beheading, watched her brother’s wolf die and saw Robb’s body paraded through a courtyard with Grey Wind’s head sewn atop his shoulders, lost her strongest, healthiest friendship to the clutches of a red priestess who wanted to hurt him, left the Hound to die, was blinded by a man she thought to be her friend, and found a carer in Lady Crane only for her to die immediately, too. Arya fell in deeply with the god of Death because what she wanted—friendship, family, love, safety—was denied to her over and over again.

(Side note: It’s hilarious to me when people say that Arya is the most emotionally detached of all the Starks when Bran is now as detached as it gets and Sansa has long been able to shelve emotion in favour of common sense when occasion calls for it. Arya is all emotion and feeling. She has never been able to rein in the stirrings that rule her, nor the love she feels for other people. That’s why she never could have made it as a true Faceless Man, because she finds it impossible to let those feelings go. And why would she, when they’re all she has left of Robb, of Jon, of Gendry and Sansa and her mother and her father?)

So Arya has had this kill list, and she’s ticked quite a lot of names off it. Polliver, Meryn Trant, the Waif (who was lowkey and deservedly on her list, since she kept trying to kill Arya) and the entire male line of House Frey all fell victim to her devotion to her prayer and to her god of Death. Who is left on the list now? A couple of people have fallen on and off over the years, but Cersei Lannister remains the one constant and popular opinion is that the season will end with Arya killing her, mostly likely whilst wearing somebody else’s face—because she can do that, followers who don’t watch Game of Thrones. She can completely transform into other people. It’s a whole thing.

What happens if she kills Cersei, though? Her arc just… ends? Mission completed, heart a dank pit in her chest, her soul worn away by death and death and more death? Arya has been miserable for years as she embarked upon this mission? Confident, yes, and skilled and snarky and very, very clever, but miserable. And lonely. She’s been very, very lonely.

Anyway, there she was with her list and her horse and her plan to go King’s Landing and kill Cersei, and then her old pal Hot Pie informed her that her beloved brother Jon had taken back the North, so Arya turned her horse around and returned to Winterfell for the first time since she was a wee, innocent girl, where she was immediately reunited with Bran and Sansa and—following a brief and incredibly meta interlude which pointed out how stupid the fandom’s disdain of Sansa is—established her relationship with her brother and sister again. She and Sansa in particular make for a very strong unit as we’ve seen, supporting and respecting one another as they ought to.

The pit in her chest begins to fill with clean earth. A little spot on her soul is rubbed clean.

Enter Jon, her most beloved brother. Enter Gendry, the first and only boy she ever fell in love with. Hell, enter the Hound, who was her surrogate father for the best part of a season. She hugs her brother for the first time in years. She listens to the Hound say that he fought for her and realises for the first time, perhaps, that she meant a great deal to him. On what might be her last night on earth, she initiates sex with a smitten, awestruck Gendry—who she trusts and loves and cares for and feels totally comfortable with, and who reminds her of a time in her life when she was not so broken—because she wants to feel good and be close to him and grasp on to her humanity. It’s such a human thing, to want closeness and connection to another person. Arya has spent so much time alone and she has fooled plenty of viewers into seeing her as a lone wolf, cold and emotionless, but that’s the opposite of who she is. She is hot-blooded and passionate and loves the few that she loves with total commitment. She is no natural servant to the god of Death, because Arya is Life. She personifies Life.

The Night King is Death.

Arya believes she knows Death’s many faces, but she hasn’t yet stared into his cold blue eyes and accepted what exactly that means. We know that Arya is going to be part of the battle on Sunday. It would be ridiculous if she didn’t, what with her impressive skillset and equally impressive array of weapons. Right now, she seems reasonably confident and cocksure (she has plenty of reason to be) and is considering the battle with a detached coolness, but I think this battle is going to change her irrecoverably. For the first time, she will be fighting for the living, rather than to avenge the loss of one already dead. For the first time, she will be coming face-to-face with the Night King, her god of Death personified. She’ll see first hand the horrors he can inflict, feel the terror he strikes into human hearts and be confronted with the very worst of herself, amplified in tenfold because this is her god. This is who she has been serving—this cold, blank creature who takes everything beautiful and replaces it with rot, and who has no aim but to destroy life.

But what better way to end this revenge arc, what better way to see her permanently on a path to love and friendship, and inner peace, and life, than to be the one who finally destroys the Night King? Wouldn’t it be perfectly poetic if Arya Stark, servant of Death, was the one to put an end to him?

Kill the Night King or no (though I really, really hope that she’s the one to do it) I hope she decides that Death can play no more part in her life. I hope she lets herself be sad and human and vulnerable, especially with Gendry, who is clearly plummeting into love with her at breakneck speed. I don’t want Arya to carry on with her kill list until there’s nothing left of her heart and her soul is rusted over. Fuck killing Cersei. What’s killing Cersei going to do for her that hugging her sister or laughing with her brother or pressing her skin to the body of the man she loves can’t? It can’t bring back her lost friends and family, and it can’t bring her any real sense of peace. I don’t care how “badass” 90% of this fandom seems to think she is whenever she crosses off another name, nor how little they value her for any reason aside from her combat skills. I don’t care about the people who whinge and crow about how she isn’t “suited” to a romance plot—she is more suited to falling in love with somebody than almost any other character in that whole damn universe.

I don’t want Arya Stark to continue to embrace Death. I don’t want her to serve Death. Fuck Death! I want her to look Death in the face and say, “Not today,” just as she was instructed to when she was a very little girl with a wooden sword in her hand. I want Death to shatter and vanish before her very eyes, and free her from this dangerous, draining, desolate path of servitude. I want her to drive her catspaw dagger through the centre of Death’s chest and become the woman who saved the living.

I want her to live her fucking life.

[violet-knox]

Summer Holidays

Year 5 - Chapter 26

Summary: Feeling the urge to see you, Severus asks to meet up with you over the summer holidays. You agree and make plans to open your O.W.Ls together when they arrive. 

Word count: 3339

Previous Chapter - Chapter 1

~

Severus woke up the morning after arriving back at Spinner’s End, and for the first time, found his mind venturing from the thought of seeing Lily. It was over between them, he’d ruined their friendship so far beyond repair, even a secluded hermit could see it. But it was more than just that. It wasn’t just the fact that Lily no longer wanted him in her life, there was something else occupying his thoughts, washing over his longing for the red-head he’d grown so fond of.

Turning over on his side, staring blankly at the door separating him from the rest of the house that would soon be filled with nothing but wasted words between a calamitous husband and vain wife, he thought back to the person he, until very recently, neglected to appreciate the company of. He wondered if you’d felt how divided his attention was when he’d study or talk with you, his mind constantly roaming back to the fantasy he’d created in his mind. One that had Lily viewing Severus in a much different light, a light he knew he was capable of stepping into if he’d only been able to find the courage he needed to tell her how he felt when they first met.

But it was different now. He no longer retreated to this alternate timeline with Lily on his arm because he didn’t feel the need to. Because he had someone in his life he could truly have a future with if he just managed to dig up that part of him he knew anyone would be proud to have by his side. He had a second chance to find the love he so desperately craved.

With a husky breath, he shot out of his bed and pulled out the old wooden chair tucked into the sad excuse of a board he was forced to call a desk. He took out a quill and paper from his Hogwarts trunk and wrote a letter to you, asking if you would be willing to meet him in two weeks at a park nearby. Now all he had to do was wait till his mother woke to ask for a few knuts to rent an owl.

(Y/N),

Since school’s over, I know there’s no reason for us to meet, but I was wondering if you’d perhaps like to meet over the summer and go on one of our infamous walks? I thought we could meet near the park at the base of the river and make our way downstream.

Severus

  Sev,

I’d love nothing more than to explore the town with you. To be quite frank, it’s been quite dull the last few days, so I should thank you for sending me this letter and sparing me the torment of a boring summer. How’s next Thursday looking for you?

(Y/N)

  (Y/N),

Glad I could help relieve you the pain of a less than magical summer. I bet your probably squirming in your room trying not to jump on your broom and fly a few thousand feet for all the muggles to see.

Thursday sounds good, I’ll meet you half passed noon near the oak tree at the edge of the park.

Sev

  “Severus!” you exclaimed, beginning to sprint towards him as he approached. He almost lost his balance as you nearly jumped on him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “Sorry,” you said, blushing as you pulled yourself off him. You didn’t mean to be so forward, but it had been so hard to suppress the longing you’d felt since you’d parted ways in London. As you pushed yourself back, hands on his shoulder, you looked up at him and to your surprise found a small smile on his face. There it was again, that need to see what you wanted. To see him want you as you did him.

“How’ve you been?” he asked politely. 

“Bored. I was practically counting down the hours till I could see you.” You nervously tucked your hair behind your ear as you took a step back, alternating your gaze from his eyes to the ground.

Severus scoffed. Though unsurprised by your inability to entertain yourself without magic, he was a bit taken back by your enthusiasm to see him. Surely there were more compelling things you could do than to be around him. Was it possible she felt the same way he did? Severus was never one for reading others. It was one of the things that held him back from asking out Lily, afraid he’d ruin their friendship if she didn’t feel the same way. So much for that.

He wanted it to be different this time, to step out of his comfort zone and pursue whatever this was between you tow. But the fear of rejection still trickled its way through his mind like a snake stalking its next victim. He had to be sure you felt the same way, otherwise he could lose you like he has Lily.

 “So, care for a walk?” he asked as he held out a hand for you. You looked down, stunned at his gesture, but eagerly accepted, placing your hand in his and walked with him side by side. His heart skipped a beat as he felt you squeeze his hand tightly, feeling hopeful that you, in fact, do return his ever-growing feelings for you. 

You spent the rest of the day together talking and laughing, enjoying each other’s company for the first time outside of Hogwarts. As you made your way downstream of the river, you just couldn’t help but notice that he couldn’t stop glancing at you, stealing gazes. But the look in his eye was really what had caught your attention. The way he looked at you had changed, and you’d only ever seen him look at someone like that once before; at Slughorn’s party back in fourth year when he spent the night with Lily. Could he finally be returning your feelings? Could he finally be falling in love with you as he did Lilly?

Felling a bit courageous, you decided to flirt a little, just to test the waters. What could it hurt to throw a few glances back? Some light touches here and there perhaps? Prinking your fingers against his palm, you slowly went to intertwine your fingers with his, smiling when you felt him grip you tighter.

He looked down at you as you smiled and kept your eyes looking down to the ground. Plummeting right through your comfort zone, you leaned into him and placed your free hand over his arm, squeezing his bicep just enough to get his heart racing.

“Can we do this again sometime?” he asked as you watched the sun set, disappearing behind the houses lining Spinner’s End. You let your legs stretch down the length of the hill as you leaned back, your hands placed firmly on the ground, holding you up.  

“How about we met every week?” you asked vigorously, immediately regretting it as you watched his gaze drop and his smile fad. 

“I-I can’t. My father would… disapprove.” The wind carried his soft voice, acting as a messenger. His tone had gone so low, you could barely hear him. 

“Is he,” you folded your legs and turned your body to face him, “still hurting you Severus?” You couldn’t stand seeing him so hurt, so discontent. It was bad enough what he’d been going through at Hogwarts, but to be beaten, neglected, anchored down by your own parent’s, you could only imagine the hardship he felt. Placing a hand on his shoulder as your thumb began rubbing southing circles. If the rest of the world was going to treat him as though he was a mere crumb on this great plant, you’d be sure to show him otherwise. You’d be there by his side to show him what a talent, deserving young wizard he is.

“I’m fine,” he hated talking about his father, something he’d always shy away from doing when the topic came about, and as he changed the subject, you could see that today was no exception. “How about we meet again on July 29th? We should have our O.W.Ls by then as well. We can open them together if you like.”

“I’d love that,” you whispered before slipping your hand down, wrapping your arm around his own and gently pressing your lips to his shoulder. 

  Your O.W.Ls arrived two days before your anticipated meeting with Severus and it took all your willpower not to tear it open. In all honesty, the only thing keeping you from removing that green wax seal was the thought of how special it would be to open it with him for the first time together. Nevertheless, it was still difficult to keep your hands off the thick letter sitting on your bedside table, haunting you every night when you went to bed and every morning when you rose.

Tracing the Hogwarts crest one last time, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath as you tossed it on your bed and swapped it for the light emerald green summer dress you’d picked out that morning. Finally, the day had arrived. The day you’d see your raven-hair friend once more and find out how well (or how terribly) you’d done on your final exams.

Throwing on your favorite pair of flats, you quickly grabbed the letter holding your fate and sprinted down the stairs, making your way to the bus stop.

Paying your share for a ticket, you quickly found a set and watched as the scenery before you shifted, the bus gaining speed as it turned onto the main road. Muggle transport had suddenly felt agonizing slow to you ever since your first trip to Hogwarts. And when you first flew a broom, feeling the wind rushing through your hair as you gained speed, you suddenly felt a great deal of pity for those who couldn’t experience the thrill you knew you couldn’t go another day without. Adjusting to summers in the muggle world after your first year was beyond daunting. In fact, your first summer back, you’d spent a great deal of the first month locked up in your room, feeling quite homesick, a feeling you never thought you’d feel.

Finally, the bus stopped by your destination and you eagerly hoped off, quickly making your way up the hill to the old park behind the abandoned primary school. You were early so you sat on the swing and waited for him so show up. 

You were young when this school closed down, the first school you’d ever attended, holding memories of negligent teachers, chatting amongst themselves while the children came up with various games using whatever hazardous tools they called toys. ‘Exercising the creative mind’ is what they would say whenever asked about the lack of supplies in the classroom. You supposed their budget was part of the reason they were shut down. Now that you were older, you understood these things a lot better as your teachers all tried to convince you the school was shutting down because you were to attend a better school.

It wasn’t a complete lie. The school you were transferred to was much bigger and therefore had a larger budget. It was now the only school still standing in this region of the town, though judging by how its residence seemed to have decreased over the past few years, it didn’t really surprise you.

The south corner of Cokeworth was never a place anyone dreamed of living. Those who owned a home here either found themselves born to poverty or were driven down, forced to downscale and buy something cheaper just for the sake of staying afloat in this economy. Come to think of it actually, the south only housed two schools throughout your time here, so could it be that Severus attended school with you before Hogwarts?    

“Need a push?” you gasped as you heard Severus speak right behind you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You giggled, realizing how lost in your thoughts you’d become waiting for him. “No, I just didn’t hear you approach,” you got up from your spot and gave him a hug. Severus wrapped his arms around you tightly and buried his face in your hair as he closed his eyes. He had really missed you these last few weeks and hoped that summer would end soon so that he’d be able to see you every day. Just another reason he absolutely hated summers.  

“Shall we?” you asked as you pushed yourself away and stretched out your hand to him to which he gladly accepted. You walked a while, heading to a clearing you’d found last time and sat down on the grass. You placed the letter that had been clenched tightly in your hand on your lap and looked up at him in excitement.  

“Ready?” you asked eagerly. The hype to open this letter had built inside you for far too long and you were more than keen to gaze upon your exam results. But when you saw the letter he pulled out of his pocket, your smiled faded and all prior elation immediately slipped way. “Severus,” you whispered, “what happened?” The once crisp letter he held in his hands now had burns all over and was torn open. Most of the wax seal had been removed and the rest had melted, spreading onto the envelope

“My mum got excited and wanted to see my results but when my dad saw the letter, he grabbed it and threw it in the fire. My mom was quick to save it and did her best to mend what she’d retrieved…” costing her a few second hand burns she still hasn’t healed from, he thought. He wanted to tell you everything, he wanted to open up. But this moment with you was supposed to be a pleasant one and bringing up his father was a sure way to ruin that. He sighed as he traced the holes in the letter and your heart sank at the thought of his father being so cruel to him. You could only imagine what Severus hadn’t told you, what he spared you from hearing. 

“I haven’t read it though,” Severus added when he saw the somber look on your face. “My mum opened it to see my results and told me the fire didn’t damage the contents of the letter.”

You smiled at him, thinking about how he had refrained from looking, even after everything the letter had been through, all because of your plans to open them together. “Let’s swap first,” you said eagerly as you grabbed his letter and handed him your own. 

His eyes widened at you in surprise. “Are you sure you don’t want to open it yourself?” he asked, tracing the perfect looking wax seal on your envelope.

You nodded your head. “I want you to open it,” you replied confidently. You’d waited so long to open that seal, but seeing his eyes sparkle and his lips twitch in happiness as he gazed over your untouched letter made it worth giving up the satisfaction of opening it yourself. He deserved to open his O.W.Ls results after working so hard, but thanks to his father, he’d been deprived of that and though you couldn’t reverse time or mend his letter, you could at least try and cheer him up, letting him tear open yours.

You watched as he broke the wax seal and pull out the letter before you carefully removed his letter from what was left of the envelope. You both unfolded each other’s results and slowly made your way down the list. 

“Oh Sev!” you were the first to react as you lunged at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, quickly hugging him as a congratulations. “I’m so proud of you!”

“You did so well,” he smiled back at you before you swapped letters to look at your own grades. 

Your reports were practically identical. The only difference was that you had received an E in Potions with Severus receiving an O, and you had failed in receiving an O.W.L in Arithmancy, but that didn’t matter to you as you had been focused on Quidditch on top of your studies. Sacrificing such an elective didn’t bother you all that much. The only thing that mattered to you now was that you would be able to take all your N.E.W.Ts with Severus, meaning you would get to spend more time together, while keeping your career options open. It was the best result you could have possibly asked for, and you were just so happy to see Severus excel in so many of his subjects. You knew he had quite an intricately brilliant mind, but seeing it on paper, was just all more impressive.

Severus was just as delighted as you when he saw your reports, thankful you had managed to achieve a high enough score to continue your studies with him. It didn’t come as a surprise to him you’d managed to snag such high results in all your core subjects with all the insane amount of studying you’d done. Still it was a shame you wouldn’t be able to continue Arithmancy with him. It wasn’t an important subject of course, he knew neither of you would really need it for whatever careers you’d end up perusing, but it would have been nice to have identical schedules, spending as much time as you could together.

Perhaps dropping the elective himself would do him well. Maybe you’d find more time to spend together outside of class if you both had lighter workloads. Then again, you’d be playing Quiddtch next term and judging by how the last season had gone, there was no doubt in his mind you’d make captain. Severus was never one for those extra curriculars other students were so eager to join, especially those involving brooms, but seeing as how he only had two years left at Hogwarts, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to consider taking up a hobby that didn’t involve spending countless hours hunched over a book in the dark corners of the library.  

“Can I see you again this summer?” you asked, making your way back towards the main road. 

“I really want to see you, but I don’t think I can.” Severus kept his gaze to the ground, dragging his feet, thinking back to the seemingly endless argument between his parents that had broken out a couple weeks ago. An argument that led to another, and another and another. A never-ending cycle, one that he’d caused all because he’d objected to working at the factory over the summer with his father. All because he wanted to see more of you.

“That’s okay,” you said quickly, seeing him retried back into his thoughts. He’d only get that look when something was troubling him, and you were not about to let your words, your urge to see more of him, bring him to a place you knew was too dark for anyone to exist. You hugged him one last time, as you saw your bus turn the corner, holding onto him a little longer for good measure and as you pulled away, you felt his hands rest gently on your hips, lightly squeezing before he took a step back, cheeks rosy and jet black hair streaming across his face.

“I’ll see you on the train,” you said as the doors opened and you turned your back to step inside.   

Severus smile, giving a small wave before the doors closed, your figure disappearing complete.  He watched as the bus drove away and only began walking home when it was completely out of sight. He hadn’t felt his chest heat with such warmth in so long, but it was a feeling he’d gladly welcome back. One he knew he’d found once again all thanks to you.

It would be different this time. He’d be better. He’d do better. For you… For love.

~

Next Chapter

~

@hoppingsnape @dusk-realm @a-slytherin-sin @trashandshook @gbatesx @sneezy-s @emsdroid

A/N: If you see your name in my tags list but aren’t getting notifications, let me know and I’ll fix it. I’ve been having some issues with my templates. If you’d like to be added to the list let me know as well. Thanks for reading 😊