#i never know what to tag in trigger warnings so i just tag everything lol

[kivino]

OUT OF THE SHADOWS I || SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X SHADOW!GN!READER

Word counter – ~6.9k words

Tags/Warnings – Gn!Reader, Shadow!Reader (it’s not for long lol, don’t get your hopes up), murder of civilians/corpses/blood mentioned, physical fights, reader likes to throw fists, Reader’s callsign is Bug to pay tribute to my original idea.

Summary – After the betrayal of Task Force 141 and the slaughter of civilians in Las Almas you decide to leave Shadow Company on the spot, which works out sideways, leaving you with simmering hate towards the man whom you used to look up to and new interesting figures in your life. 

also available on my ao3!

a/n after the fic because they’re too long. but just know that this is the first chapter of the series, feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part. enjoy!

Everything was calm. The sound of rain covering up the murmur of trucks helped you wind down after the adrenaline rush, and a sense of accomplishment for a job well done swelled in your chest. You already anticipated a long sleep and maybe a night out with your friends when you’re back home from the job. Maybe you’d even get a bonus from Graves and buy something nice for yourself. 

In all honesty, you didn’t even mind being crammed into the backseat along with those 141 guys. Working with them was a pleasure and they seemed like an interesting sort of crowd. Especially that man with the skull mask. Ghost, was it? He certainly attracted your attention the most, with his huge size, booming voice, and undeniable skill in what he did. You were willing to admit that the way he took out the enemies with ease and swiftness was mesmerizing.  And…your train of thought that consisted of pure fascination was interrupted by the abrupt stop of the convoy in front of the base gate. 

Everything was calm until you were surrounded by shouting and then eventual gunshots, along with muffled screams of your brothers in arms. You didn’t understand how it all escalated so fast. One moment you were sure about Shadow Company and Task Force 141 being on the same side, but now you didn’t know what to think of it all. And from Graves' words, it was apparent that Shepherd was behind this too. So naturally you, and many other shadows, the lower ranks, had no fucking clue what all of this was about. One would care to tell a mindless weapon where to shoot, but not why. Blood rushed through your veins and pulsed in your ears, turning the pleasant buzz in your body into strained sharpness. You hurriedly pulled up the rear sight to your eye level. Two bodies dropped to the wet asphalt with soft thuds right in front of you. You felt your heart sink right down to your feet. Instead of firing your shots, you hesitated, backing out to hide behind the bumper of the truck, while hearing agitated, aggressive shouts. You weren’t able to tell who was shouting. So, you leaned out and felt yourself freeze in place. 

And there he is. Ghost, eyes locked right on you. He sure has a…strong presence. And instead of shooting you he just…looks. You don’t like the stupid flowery language, but in this split second, it really feels like he is staring right into your soul. Or like someone is sticking metal rods right through your chest, with how hard breathing becomes in an instant. 

You knew that if you were to shoot him right now, you’d never forgive yourself, all because you were kept in the dark about the whole thing Graves had planned. And you were not willing to get blood on your hands because of some “mistake”. If you pull the trigger, there will be one less person who’s able to make a change. One less person who’ll be willing to get their hands dirty and save people. 

So, you lower the muzzle of your rifle and nod to the side, urging him to start his getaway, before other Shadows and Graves decide to check the perimeter. You see his dark eyes blink, or at least you think you do before he disappears into the darkness. Like he was never there in the first place.

In the end, you didn’t get even a single scratch. Three other Shadows were K.I.A.

Your head buzzed with so many different questions you wanted to ask Graves, and more importantly, the guilt you felt from whatever happened in front of the threshold. You had no idea what happened with that Los Vaqueros base or what was up with your CO, while you were escorting him and those 141 guys along with several other Shadows for this mission. Why was he taking it? What was he even thinking? You wanted to pull out your hair and claw out your eyes just thinking about all of it. Which, you weren’t paid to do, but that didn’t mean you weren’t concerned with the moral side of things. Unlike the majority of the Shadows, as you came to find out.

Confusion bubbled up inside of your mind, eyes burned by the white synthetic light of the gate when you looked up at it just to feel something aside from sheer distress and bewilderment. You didn’t want to believe that your Commander was the type of person to sell himself out, and you didn’t expect him to be, from all the time spent working with him. The man was nothing short of likable and friendly, with his beaming smile, confident attitude, and outgoing way of communicating… a natural-born leader, that was the first thing that came to mind when you thought about your boss. And with how Graves treated you and all other Shadows like you were more than just his employees, the realization was even more painful. Of course, you didn’t want to think about how he could so easily turn his back on people who trusted him.

It raised many questions in your mind about the price of his word, as well as made your stomach churn with acidic, flesh-eating poison full of doubt and suspicion. If it was so easy for your CO to cut out the men someone he told you all to think of as your brothers, then how long will it be before he sells you and other shadows out for…whatever was offered to him? 

“Find ‘em!” Graves barks and your chest swells with bitter disappointment. You thought you knew him before (as much as a subordinate can know their superior), but how can you even begin to understand him now?

You hear Shadows mutter a quiet “Yup-yup”, more to themselves than to your CO, and you could almost feel the doubt settle over them in a thick, transparent blanket. From the conversations you can pick up on while Graves is out of earshot, you guess that some of them don’t think betraying the 141 guys and trying to hunt the two of them down is the right thing to do. But it didn’t seem like they were going to do anything about it though. You, however, want to help. You know that it’s not right, so…screw it. You can always find another job, and if it comes down to it, 141 seem like an okay sort of people, the type that would have your back if you had theirs. At least, you have hope for it.

So maybe you could hold out until they come back for Los Vaqueros. And you were certain they’d do that, no way they’d abandon all these men. You haven’t seen how the things were on said base that was taken from them, but you were certain you could do more on the inside than if you were to leave right now. Maybe you could break Colonel out of there, or help the Task Force sneak in, you were sure they could use any help from you. 

That was the plan before you saw what Shadow Company did to Las Almas.

The picture that Shadows were painting with innocent blood on the rainy landscape was horrifying, to say the least. The metallic smell hit your nose the moment you jumped out of the truck right onto the flooded pavement. That was the exact moment when you realized you couldn’t stay with Shadows any longer. You were supposed to help these people. It was your job. Instead, you felt filthier than the dirt on your boots. Traitor. Backstabber. You choked on your breath behind the mask each time you noticed the bodies of the victims in every dark corner of the city, nausea coming up your throat when you could see rivers of crimson streaming down the road and right into the sewers. Your Shadow Company patch felt like the mark of a killer, etched into your skin permanently, instead of just being part of your uniform.

Limp bodies that didn’t even have the time to grow cold yet, scattered around warm homes. Some of the killed were probably already in their beds sleeping, coming back from work, watching TV, or cooking dinner when they got dragged out under the rain and massacred…Everything felt like a blur, your thoughts were a jumbled mess of whys, while you were led further into the town, to continue the revolting, disgusting crimes of your brothers-in-arms. You couldn’t stand to spend another minute in here. You need to get out before you do something you’ll never be able to forgive yourself for. You were many things, but you were not willing to go that far. Not here, not anywhere. 

“Hey. Where’s Graves?” You tap another Shadow, your “close colleague” with a callsign Kruk, on the shoulder. He turns to you, while you see several other soldiers passing by, yellow streetlights barely illuminating their swiftly moving figures. You knew why it was hard for you to even look in their direction. Kruk points towards the building to the left of you two and croaks something about “briefing the rookies”. You nod and thank him, stumbling in the general direction he pointed you to. 

“Commander, with all due respect, I think it’s time for you to discharge me.” You only came to your senses when you stood in front of your CO in the cramped space of someone’s living room. Wallpaper, creamy in color, dulled lights, tons of decorative cushions on the couch… Your voice is quiet, but firm, not leaving any space for compromise when you speak up to the blond man, and your politeness is as fake as this copy of “Guernica” you could see hanging on the wall. Blood pulses in your ears. You want to leave, you want out. Out of here.

“Bug, now’s not the time for jokes, I need you on the field now. We’ve got our orders.” Graves barely raises his eyes from tapping something on the tablet, that usual scowl that you got used to present on his face. His actions are as ugly as he is. Him not taking you seriously sure does a number on your confidence. But that only reassures you in your decision. You need out. 

“Do I look like I’m joking? I’m leaving, because I don’t think what we’re doing is right.” You try to stay calm, you really do. But how can you, when out of something so vile he makes a joke? Makes all these people a sick joke.

A crease lies between your brows, and shadows falling over your eyes make your face look similar to a carved statue. Before talking to Graves, you decided to take off the eyewear that obscures your face and pull down the thin mask, the signatures for Shadows who are lower in the chain of command. You’re the faceless sort, after all.  “And I don’t think you know your place.” You’re instantly taken aback by his sudden outburst, but you don’t let it show. “I point and you shoot. I sign your paychecks, Bug, and you take them.” You feel something inside of you flinch at the way he mutters your callsign. “I’m in charge. You don’t have a say in what we do.” With each statement, his gloved finger points from him to you, making the rage and frustration boil inside of your chest. You trusted Graves and he led all of your colleagues, along with you to dragging out unarmed, innocent people in the dead of night out of their houses on their streets and executing them. Hell of a leader he is. 

“Well, I’m stepping down. If that’s what we do, I don’t want to take part in it.” You wanted to tell him a lot more, give Graves a piece of your mind on war crimes and killing people in their own homes. On how drowning Las Almas in blood won’t fix whatever the fuck he was trying to fix right now. Instead, you kept it to yourself, tightening your fists just so you didn’t spit in his face or punch him.

“You’re putting a target on your back. Do you not understand how what you’re saying makes you look?” Graves leans in closer to you, the low volume of his voice making it even more threatening, similar to the hissing of a snake. Give him a minute and he will start spewing real venom right in your face. 

“You know that whatever you’re thinking is not true.” To be completely honest, you didn’t care what he thought right now. Graves’ mind and morals were clearly in the wrong place if he considered all this bloodshed justified. 

“Do I really? A moment ago I was sure that you were my subordinate, now I’m not even sure what to make of you.” You’re barely able to resist rolling your eyes at this. Your heart is picking up the pace with each minute. Getting more and more desperate to leave your body altogether, just so you don’t have to listen to his bullshit any longer. You wish it was that easy.

“I’m not taking orders from you. Not anymore.” Saying this took a lot more out of you than you expected, you felt your chest tremble when you met your CO’s eyes.

“Well, would you just look at that, you happen to be a fan of our local drug lord too?” If eyes could kill, Graves would’ve dropped dead right this moment. He smiles, his sharp canines peeking from under his top lip. He knows he’s making your skin crawl and your stomach flip from this interaction, which, if you’re lucky, would be the last for the two of you. “Helping the cartel and corrupt police won’t look too good on your resume”

“I see you’re just making it up as you go.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in your chest. Shaky. Uneven. Infuriated. Your eyes are drilling Graves’, a deep frown between them as proof of how much you despise him now, for the baseless assumption too. After a moment of silence, you add. “You know what my stance on this is. Whether I get your approval or not, I’m leaving.” Graves finally withdraws from your personal space, sliding the palm over his face with a heavy sigh, as his lips tighten into a thin line. You knew that this combination meant he was trying to calm down. After a moment of silence, he speaks up again. 

“Look, Bug, you’re a smart kid and frankly, I like you.” he makes a short pause, sighing. “So, I’ll give you a fighting chance. Five minutes – if you’re not out of the city, then you’re a target.” He wasn’t that fucking courteous with the civilians that lay dead a few meters away. Shot on sight. Without any questions. You grit your teeth.

What are you supposed to do with that? Those five minutes didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, most likely, you’ll be rotting in the ditch somewhere shortly after your time runs out - too little to get out of the city or find the Task Force you so desperately wanted to help. Graves won’t leave any witnesses. And you are one. He knows it’s not going to be easy for you to just turn on the Shadows like that too, even though you despised what they were doing while following his orders. They still were your family. Dysfunctional and disproportionately big, but family, nonetheless. Even if they deserved it for their lack of action to prevent what was happening now, you don’t turn on your family like that. What he’s doing is forcing your hand.

Regardless, you have no choice but to take Graves up on his last “generous” offer.

“What are you waiting for, hm? Get out of here while you can.” You didn’t need to be told that twice. So, still balancing your rifle on your arm, your free hand reaches for that patch on your shoulder. Tearing it off in a quick motion makes the sound of Velcro strips snapping open almost echo from how quiet it is. It felt like a whole mountain dropped off of your shoulders when you threw the patch on the ground and stormed out of the building right into the pouring rain.

You felt goosebumps and tremors creeping up your spine as you ran through the dark streets, getting more and more soaked with each second. You didn’t feel much better though. The resentment for Graves grew each second, with all the steps that sent ripples on the surface of the deep puddles, and every raindrop that fell from the copper-colored clouds. But now wasn’t the time to wallow in your misery. Although you wanted to. It did feel like the loss of a person you used to know, of someone you looked up to. The only thing is, he was still living and breathing, and the only thing that died was that idealized image of him in your head. 

There was a cold hollowness somewhere in your chest. Gaping with the darkness that, and you were sure of it, will eat you alive soon enough. Even though you backed out of the Shadow company, it won’t bring back all the people who are not here anymore. You won’t fix it, no matter how hard you try. That bitter guilt snaked its way into the back of your mind and it was there to help stay. 

You managed to pull yourself out of this to make things right. But why do you feel so helpless still?

Your footsteps get faster and faster, as you maneuver through the narrow alleyways, staying out of the range your former colleagues were in. It was easy to hear them, gunshots and voices echoed throughout the city in a weird cacophony that your ears got used to after a long time working for the Shadow Company. They were not afraid, probably feeling like masters here. Somebody has to give them a scare, you thought. So they know better in the future. But it wasn’t your job at the moment. Right now, you needed to get out and do it as soon as possible.

Stopping and coming up with any sort of plan that would help you was not an option - hang in somewhere for too long and you’ll be found. And you were sure you wouldn’t be shown any mercy. 

So instead of staying on the street, where you can be easily spotted with the help of the dim light of a flashlight, you decide to alternate between the corridors of empty homes, with doors wide open for anyone seeking shelter, and the maze of alleyways crawling with Shadows. It felt wrong, invading someone’s homes like this, but you knew if they were unlocked and lights beamed around them, giving out a warm glow the inhabitants were most likely not coming back.

You felt that tingle on the nape of your neck, ready to hide or flee in case you heard any sudden movement from any direction. It’s dead quiet, except for occasional radio talk from the shadows, which you tried to listen in on when you could. It didn’t give you much on where 141 could be. You would start losing hope if you had any left after Graves. But you continue your search nonetheless, reflexes instead of thinking, pure determination instead of hope, and fire in your veins, instead of blood.

That is until you quietly step inside another warm hallway, and you’re met with a wide-eyed stare from another Shadow that makes you freeze like a deer in the headlights. Something inside of you starts to churn with terror from the looming understanding – only one of you will walk out of here alive. Your eyes trail down to the raven patch on his tac vest. It’s Kruk. You want to ask what he is doing here, but you already feel his gaze studying you too. And as soon as he sees that the Shadow Company patch is missing from your uniform, the muzzle of his rifle points right at you. Fucking shit.

“Drop your gun, Kruk!” You warn the man, pointing the weapon in his direction too. He only shakes his head, refusing to stand down. With each second air is laced with tension more and more, you were sure that soon enough it’ll be so thick even a knife wouldn’t cut through it.

“You drop yours first.” His voice is shaky and unsure like he can’t believe what he’s doing right now either. “Commander gave us an order. You’re an enemy now too, Bug. Better get used to it.” Kruk started slowly approaching you, while pulling something out of the bag, strapped on his hip.

“Oh, fuck that!” You swing towards Kruk, trying to approach him in your momentary rage, but you’re immediately met with the warning “Don’t” from Kruk, who doesn’t stand down. “You know what they’re doing here. It doesn’t matter to you?” The man is silent. You don’t see his face behind his mask, so you’re left with even more questions instead of answers. Regardless of what he was thinking right now, you didn’t want to hurt him. So, you bend down and put your rifle on the ground with a quiet clack. If he needs a gesture of goodwill, he can have it. “Your turn.” Kruk only shakes his head.

“Turn around.” So, it was a mistake to trust him. Naturally. Your gullibility will be your downfall. You can almost feel the bitter taste spread inside of your mouth when you look at Kruk. Fucking asshole. But you comply, although reluctantly. He grabs you roughly by the wrists with one hand and by the neck with another, leading you toward what looks like a kitchen in the dim lights falling through the doorway. You get lowered on your knees and then pressed into the dirty floor. And it hits right then and there. He’s going to execute you. Oh, shit, shit, shit.

“You know that I don’t want to do this.” He says quietly so that any shadows passing by don’t hear him. You feel your heartbeat shake your whole body and nausea so intense like you are on the verge of throwing up all of your internal organs, but giving up is just not an option right now. So, you try to prevent him from tying your hands together with all the strength you have.

“Then don’t fucking do it!” He does not answer this as you continue squirming in his hold, trying to make it as hard as possible for him to restrain you. He only grunts but keeps a firm grip. Your head was a mess, you thought Shadows were a family. But all it took was one order from Graves, now they’re scouring the town like damn bloodhounds for you too.

“Get…off of me!” You grit through your teeth. You feel a zip tie slide over your hands and turn your head. The rifle he previously held in his hands was gone, probably so he could tie you up properly, so you take your chance and deliver a hard kick to Kruk’s stomach. He chokes out a pained gasp and finally lets go of your hands. You scurry to get up from the floor with wide smears of rainwater and dirt decorating it, but you get grabbed by the leg, which causes you to stumble and fall once again. You turn your head and kick Kruk with all your might, while attempting to take off the zip tie off your wrists, which, thankfully, he didn’t have the time to close.

You manage to shake the man off of you, as you scramble to your feet, knocking over a corner table with some decorations on it. Yet when you see Kruk fumbling with his hip holster you immediately tackle him to the ground, which causes him to drop the handgun. The whole fight is just a mess, nothing but blinding rage is pulsing in your temples, melting your bones and muscles into something no better than an animal. You get up again, while Kruk is on the floor, searching for the handgun in the darkness. You feel the heavy metal press against your boot and you kick it behind you. You hear it slide across the floor and here it is. Kruk’s eyes, are directed right at you. His hands claw at your leg, trying to drag you down to the floor. And then you black out completely. Kicking, punching, pained wheezes and screams are all you hear, a stuffy abyss with little to no specks of light surrounding you.

You come back to your senses when you don’t feel the familiar weight of your handgun pressing against your hip and then you see it again. Kruk managed to grab it while you were in your anger-induced frenzy. Everything around you slows down. His shaky fingers pull on the safety, but you reach out and grab his hands, pulling them up, not letting him aim at you. Kruk grunts and you see his eyes focused on you in fear, and desperation, as he tries to overpower you in the struggle. You see his weakened state, but the self-preservation is stronger than any compassion towards him at the moment. Kruk will take your life if you don’t take his. That’s just the gist of it. You can’t let him walk away.

Your hands tremble when he manages to overpower you momentarily, but it’s all in vain when you press the handgun harder and harder into his frame, feeling his hands start to yield more and more with each second, strength leaving him. The fear in his eyes is directed at you and only you, but you try not to look. The muzzle of your gun is pressed snugly under his chin. Your gaze trails to his eyes once again. They burn you with terror. Your fingers hook around the trigger guard. You hear a faint whisper.

“Please…”

Gunshot rings in your ears for another second, despite the earmuffs in your helmet.

“Fuck! Fuck…I’m so sorry…I’m sorry.” It all came crashing down on you in one moment. You wouldn’t feel guilty if it was the enemy, you wouldn’t care. He was an enemy now, so why do you feel so guilty, why is it starting to corrode and eat you alive even more? Your palms cover the profusely bleeding gunshot wound, going through his neck and cranium, hot blood pouring out with impossible speed, staining your hands, gear, and skin. Staining your whole being. How could you do something like this? Shadows are family. Killing an unarmed man who’s pleading for his life?

You’re no better than Graves.

The gunshot alerts the Shadows and they start scurrying around on the street. You have no time to mourn Kruk or search for your rifle in the dark, so you yank your handgun out of his hands which only started succumbing to rigor mortis, and sprint out the backdoor, desperately attempting to get away. You can feel your heartbeat booming in your ears, wet hair sticking to the nape of your neck, as you hear distant commotion and a chase stirring behind you, as you dart inside another building and run through the hallways, searching for a way out.

Back on the street, rain droplets are so cold that it feels like they’re splitting your skin open, you can barely feel the pain in your ankle from adrenaline pumping through your blood flow. You start slipping on the slick pavement, but you still refuse to stop, diving inside another doorway. Your head hurts, your lungs feel like they are about to explode, and you think you stepped into a puddle of someone’s blood. No time to ram through the locked door, so you jumped out of the second-story window and landed on your foot, twisting it in the process and swallowing the sob that welled up in your throat. You needed to move.

That bought you some time to get up and dip into the dark alleyway before you heard the loud footsteps approaching the window that you used to escape. You let out a heavy exhale, propping your back against the cold stone. You’re not completely safe, but…that’s better than nothing. The commotion of shadows quiets down and you hear it become more and more distant with each second. 

After a moment of silence, you continue moving, albeit slowly, trying to get used to the hot pulsing in your leg, that shot up right through your nerves with each step you tried to take. You wince and whine in pain, dragging your leg behind, grabbing at the moist stone walls, clinging to them for any sort of support. However, it’s not much of a help. 

Your escape is cut short when your legs finally give out, causing you to stumble and fall while crossing the church garden. Although it probably looked magical in the daylight, right now it was far from it, the smell of metal and smoke still lacing the darkness. You already feel your ankle swelling and some bruises forming under all your gear. You see the lights on the exterior of the church blend into the ribbon of lights and shadows and the thought crosses your mind. You can hide there.

You almost fly up the stairs despite the hurting leg, fumbling with the door for a second, before it creaks open. You shuffle inside with light steps and close the door behind you as quietly as you can. Your knees tremble as you slide down the cold wall and crawl further inside the building, barely feeling any strength left in you. God, you are so drained. Strained gasps are ripped out of your throat every second. You want nothing more than to lie down right there in this church and just let the darkness overtake you in a peaceful slumber. That would be so easy.

Your calm moment is interrupted by someone yanking you up on your feet, to which you let out a surprised yelp. You can’t see the person, but you can feel their hands tugging on your gear roughly and dragging you somewhere. It takes you a second to weigh your pretty limited options given the fact it’s so dark that you are barely able to make out your surroundings. So, you decide to take this fight head on and your heavy boot comes down right on their foot, which prompts the person to grunt, revealing a pretty low male voice, and let go of you.

You tear out from his grasp and almost tumble down to the church floor, bunching up dust with your loud, uneven footsteps. Your back is hunched as you look up at the dark figure from under your eyebrows, ready to deflect any blows if he decides to attack first. You stay silent, feeling like a cornered animal in his presence, small, feeble. Weak. Of course, you were at a disadvantage here, taking a beating, running from Shadows, twisting your ankle, and losing your rifle certainly didn’t help your chances to win, but you were ready to claw your way out of here with your bare hands, breaking your nails and skinning your hands if you had to.

But any punches or kicks you try to land the man easily deflects or blocks, not trying to attack or overpower you however, opting to just take up the defensive position in the fight. Which is, admittedly, a lot easier than taking the offensive one. Maybe he was aiming to exhaust you and then, when you are at your lowest point, he would attack. That seemed like a solid tactic, but you don’t want to let that happen. However, before you can think of anything you end up rolling with the man on the floor. You can hear him huff in frustration and exertion, the wood pressing harshly against your ribs and all the bruises on your lower body pulsing with pain.

After some struggle, however, you managed to tackle the man to the ground, pressing him down to the floor with your weight. Your hands snaked their way onto his neck as you glared at him, resisting the urge to bare your teeth akin to a stray, abused, and betrayed dog, crawling with fleas and parasites. Choking him out obviously wasn’t a nice thing to do, but you were trying to send a message here, that if you continue being followed, you will use your strength. If violence was the only language Shadows understood (and that’s who you believe the man was) then you were ready to become fluent.

“I swear, I’ll fucking kill you!” You press him into the floor harder, hands squeezing the man’s throat, your vision going blurry. You feel his hands grasp at your wrists, but he does not resist. Why is he not trying to shake you off? Why is he letting you choke him like this? Why is he not fighting back? 

“Let go, Bug.” The man’s voice is strained, but familiar, he whispers through his closed jaw. You can hear the way his throat tenses up, or his Adam’s apple bobs under your thick gloves, the warmth of his skin, and the moisture that seeped into the mask. Mask. More light falls through the window thanks to the momentary flicker of the streetlight. Skull. Eight lines on his chin, two on the forehead. Dark brown eyes.

Your hands shoot up like his neck is on fire. Guilt settles in your gut and your throat, pulling you in like you’re some puppet with no free will. You try to get up from the man’s midsection but tumble down on your side from trying to do it too quickly. It’s Ghost. How the hell did you not recognize Ghost?

“I’m sorry. I’m not…myself right now.” You were now sitting on the floor, palms resting on your face, wet from the rain, skin burning up, either trying to regulate the temperature or from all the exertion. Either way, it didn’t matter right now.

“Yeah, you made it pretty obvious.” Ghost coughs, trying to shake off your attempt to cut off his air circulation just seconds ago, as he gets up from his lying position. “At least now I know you’ve got a good grip.” He lets out a deep chuckle which only earns him an eyebrow raise from you. He was joking at a time like this? Must’ve hit his head pretty hard too.

“I could’ve choked you. Why did you not fight back more?” You were royally confused about that. He could’ve stopped the fight before it even began and avoided some bruises along with the sore neck if he just told you who he was or fought back. But he didn’t.

Ghost wants to say something, but stops himself right after opening his mouth. You see it in the way he looks at you. The pause stretches for an endless amount of time and you feel your skin crawling with anxiety while his eyes study your face.

“I was going easy on ya.” Ghost says in a rather blunt manner, which didn’t answer that many of your questions. Well, if he was going easy, he should’ve been at least going at you, which wasn’t true – you saw him only defending himself and blocking some of your blows. Did he?.. Was he trying not to hurt you? Okay, the more you thought about it, the wilder it sounded. Maybe you should just drop it. “I don’t suppose you came here to wash your sins away.” You want to scoff from the bad taste. “Lil’ birdie told me you ditched the Shadows. Any particular reason why?” The man inquires, turning to you. Sitting like this on the floor with him felt unusual, like some sort of weird church sleepover. Give Ghost a minute and he’ll bring you some ice cream so you two can watch some wacky TV shows together.

“Did your little birdie also tell you that Graves is hunting me down too?” You ask while pulling your drenched mask over your face. It brought some comfort and familiarity that were gone the moment you spoke to your CO in that living room. And, well, it would be awkward if Ghost was the only one in the mask.

“I guessed by the gunshots, some racket, and a horde of Shadows taking a night run through the neighborhood close by.” The man chuckles and you feel your face burn up in embarrassment under your mask. You try not to let it show, however. You knew that it wasn’t a very sleek move that you pulled with Kruk, but you were desperate and you didn’t need motherfucking Ghost telling you it was stupid. 

“You’re just hilarious. Is that how you became a lieutenant, by cracking jokes left and right?” You roll your eyes and hope he won’t notice it in the darkness. This banter was pointless, you knew it but…you needed it. It was not easy losing something familiar, so you desperately wanted to feel that camaraderie you experienced in the Shadows.

“You’ll find out once you’re a lieutenant yourself.” And Ghost indulges you. Which, you are thankful for. Isn’t such a scary guy after all, huh?

“Yeah, if I’m alive long enough.” You scoff at his concealed attempt to comfort and reassure you, but you can’t help that warm feeling in your chest. Weird.

“Well, you’ve already surpassed my expectations by staying alive until now.” The man stands up from the floor with a low grunt, pressing an arm around his midsection, right around where you might’ve pinned him to the floor with your body. “Let’s make sure it lasts, eh?” He extends a gloved hand toward you in an open, inviting gesture. Your eyes trail over his huge figure and land on specks of light in his eyes.

His eye black is all smudged and messy.

You have to shake off the sudden thought, observation too close and intimate for your liking, as you grab him by the forearm, trying to ignore the way your skin burns up when you feel his warmth through his gear. Ghost pulls you up to your feet, but doesn’t let go of your arm once you’re up. You don’t let go either. The silence rings in your ears. God, he’s so warm.

 “Are you like a human furnace or something?” You joke to fill the excruciating silence. Which you immediately regret. You wish it wasn’t so dark so you could see just how his face stretched the fabric of a skull mask, which you clearly heard happen by a small shuffle very close to you. Who knows, maybe he cracked a smile?

“Why? Need someone to warm you up at night?” Okay, this is terrible and stupid, and so damn corny, and why do you feel your cheeks grow hot and breath get stuck in your chest? Maybe that’s just how awful his jokes are. Ghost clears his throat and reluctantly lets go of your forearm, fingers still clinging to your sleeve as he pulls himself away too quickly for it to be something nonchalant or casual.

“So, are you answering my question, or do I have to use torture?” Fucking hell, his jokes are morbid. You almost forgot in those several hours you haven’t interacted with him. Although that would be quite hard, he leaves quite an impression, after all.

“Well, I suppose you’ve seen the…the civilians?” You can’t call them anything besides that. To call them corpses is to take away from their whole being. To call them dead would just be a lie. They were still alive in the walls of their homes, in the memories of their breathing relatives and friends, and in the pictures, their traces are everywhere. Ghost silently nods to your question, prompting you to continue. “Then here’s your reason.” You didn’t want to explain your feelings in great detail. And you didn’t feel the need to; you saw the compassion in his eyes. “Plus, the whole thing with the Los Vaqueros base.” If you saw Ghost’s face now you’d note how the expression darkened in a single moment. However, you do feel the temperature in the room fall several degrees lower, so you decide to joke again. “Pay wasn’t that good anyway, so…”

“Fair enough.” The man chuckles while rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll keep an eye on you though. Don’t think you can just waltz in here like this and be completely trusted.” Well, that’s understandable. If you were him you wouldn’t trust yourself either. Although you did hope that the mercy you’ve shown him earlier would influence his decision making. At least a little bit. “And you better toss that thing. Or else.” He points to the radio, still strapped to your tactical vest. You unclasp the device, detaching the small microphone that was holding on by a thread, and hand it to Ghost.

“You’re welcome to get rid of it for me.” And he doesn’t waste any time, dropping the radio on the ground, stomping on it so hard that the sound of it breaking echoes through the church. You assess the scraps of wires and plastic on the floor with a pitiful gaze, coming to a conclusion that you wouldn’t want to end up under Ghost’s boot. Or maybe you would, but under different circumstances. “Well, that’s…effective.”

“You good with the sniper rifle?” The man ignores your previous remark, immediately firing back with the question.  

“Decent.” You were a lot better in close quarters and preferred a more hands-on approach. But a sniper rifle wasn’t that bad. As long as he doesn’t ask you to use it without a scope.

“You’re on the lookout with me then. Don’t screw it up.”

Oh, you’re absolutely not going to.

check out my masterlist or send me a request!

a/n – first of all, thank you for reading this fic, and if you enjoyed it, consider dropping me a comment, i’ll really appreciate it! SECOND OF ALL.  I’M NOT A GRAVES HATER, DON’T COME @ ME. segment with him also was written before the campaign release, so in case there are some inaccuracies with the plot/his character – let me know, so I can fix it. all of this is a huge rework of the series that I started but never posted. Originally, it was supposed to be Graves x Reader, but for multiple reasons, moral mostly, it didn’t quite sit right with me. So instead of letting 6k words first part that I’ve written and abandoned go to waste, I decided to remake it into something else here, based on the idea of @mockerycrow (ily you have such a big brain)! so yeah, that’s it for now!

[astrophileous]

Love Bugs (Pt. 06)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): cursing--there's a lot of it--like a lot, psychopathic behaviors, being held captive, verbal and physical violence, degrading nicknames, talks of death and unaliving someone, strangulation, PLS READ WITH CAUTION BECAUSE THIS PART IS REALLY GRIM I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING

Word Count: 4200-ish

Tag(s): I'm tagging everyone who requested to be tagged prior to the long hiatus, pls tell me if you'd like to NOT be included in the tag list for future updates, thanks! @marvelousgoldroses @jay-2s-world @whore-of-the-pumpkin-patch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @cat-or-kitten @littleshadow17 @itzz-me-duh @geeksareunique @paisleebubbles @whateverrrrrrrrs @crazyunsexycool @louderfortheback @wifeyofeveryone

Author's Note: HI EVERYONE HOW ARE YOU?? I know this is long overdue, but pls enjoy the new part of love bugs! I'm so happy to be posting again and I hope you like what I've got in plans for this series. I think we only have one or maybe two chapters left for this story (depending whether I want to write an epilogue or not lol) but in the meantime, pls enjoy this part and don't forget to LIKE+REBLOG+COMMENT !!! thank you 🌹

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

The bullpen of FBI headquarters was still reeling in the aftermath of a Derek-Morgan-shaped hurricane.

Emily was just about to enter the vicinity again when she heard the tail end of Derek's furious words, right before Hotch had ordered him to retreat.

"What was that about?" Emily asked as she approached Rossi's side, eyes never straying from the two men who soon disappeared into Hotch's office.

Rossi never addressed Emily's question. Instead, he gestured for her--and everybody else in the room--to be quiet with a finger on his lips, before he pressed the unmute button on the telephone.

"Hello?"

The UnSub's head jerked at Rossi's unfamiliar voice. You were barely successful in getting him to calm down following Derek's unexpected outburst, but the sound of Rossi's voice was threatening to throw all of those poor attempts straight out of the window.

"Who is that?" he demanded warily. "Where's Agent Hotchner?"

"He had to step away for a second," Rossi notified. "I'm SSA David Rossi. I also work with Agent Hotchner and Agent (Y/L/N)."

"I know who you are."

"Yeah? I still don't know who you are, though."

A responding groan vibrated from the other line. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do you think I'm fucking dumb?"*

"No one thinks anything here, pal. Just wanted to know who I was speaking to, that's all." At the UnSub's clear signs of agitation, Rossi quickly added, "It'd be nice to know the person who clearly means a lot to (Y/N)."

Rossi's reassurance obviously managed to trigger the intended effect it had sought. Everyone could see how the UnSub physically deflated at Rossi's words, meaning that hopefully he was soon going to let his guard down.

"I can't tell you who I am," your assailant said, still adamant, although his resolve was wearing thin with each word he had stated. "You're just gonna use it to track me down and keep us apart."

The last syllable of his sentence was emphasized by the weight of his dagger on the side of your neck. You instinctively winced at the unwelcomed touch of the blade before schooling your expression once more so your captor wouldn't notice.

"I promise you, no one is going to do that," Rossi said.

"He's telling the truth," you decided to chime in, surprising everyone including the UnSub whose grip of the dagger had teetered dangerously closer to your pulse point at the sudden proclamation. "They are good people. They don't break promises or tell lies. I promise you, nothing will come between us."

The silence that fell next was heavy with the UnSub's hesitation. Bracing yourself, you forced your head to tilt back, locking eyes with him who was still standing like a guard dog right behind you.

"I swear, Darling," you vowed.

The lull in your voice--or perhaps the fact that you had called him darling in front of your team, which he could arguably take as a display of affection--must have stirred up something in his twisted mind. He actually preened at you before his eyes went right back towards the direction of the camera on the wall.

"My name is Arthur," he confessed.

A particular thread of memory in your brain immediately lit up.

Back in the bullpen, JJ and Spencer were finally returning with documents containing your phone records that they had promptly asked Kevin to gather. Spencer didn't waste any time before perching himself on his desk to start rummaging through the thick pile of files.

"Arthur?" Rossi repeated the name, eyes flicking over to Garcia with a silent request to start cross-referencing the name with the other names they had acquired so far in the investigation.

The tech analyst didn't need to be told twice. She began typing furiously on her laptop as Rossi's attention was drawn back towards the projector.

The UnSub hadn't moved an inch. His hand was still just as sturdy on your shoulder. The blade was also still just as cold as it pressed onto your skin.

One wrong move, and you would end up no better than a slaughter animal on the cold hard ground.

"Do you have a last name, Arthur?" Rossi asked.

The entire bullpen held their breath in anticipation. Rossi had planted the bait as strategically as he could. It was up to the UnSub to take it and slip up the one information that would give them a major lead to end this case once and for all.

But before the UnSub could respond, a muffled beeping resonated in the air, through the telephone line, and finally into the bullpen. The sound was enough to make your assailant faltered.

"I have to go."

It was the last thing he uttered before the line, along with the livestream, went completely dead.

The atmosphere was laden with restlessness as everyone tried to make peace with the fact that they had just lost the only mean of communication they had with you. Without the feed from the livestream, no one could possibly know what was going on. The team would have no idea if something were to happen to you.

They would have no idea how to determine whether you were alive or dead.

"Did you find anything yet, Garcia?" Rossi questioned, although in all honestly, it sounded more like a desperate plea.

The thick regret behind Garcia's eyes gave Rossi the answer he needed to know.

"I can't find any Arthur in our files, sir," Garcia informed.

"Anything from her phone records? What about the hospital?" Rossi tried again.

Emily shook her head almost remorsefully.

"Nothing yet," Spencer spoke up from his place on the desk. "Not a single thing stands out from her records."

"What now?" JJ sighed, exhaustion and worry beginning to decorate the lines on her face.

The whole bullpen stood still, as if everyone was waiting for a slice of miracle to descend into the room, holding a map that would eventually lead the team to where you were still being held captive. But such a map didn't exist in this piece of reality, and the BAU knew that they were running out of time.

"Garcia, did you record the livestream by any chance?" Spencer asked at last.

"Yeah, of course I did."

Penelope punched a few keys on her keyboard before the projector once again came alive with the footage from the livestream.

"Can you fast forward to the very end?" Spencer requested. "And then play it again backwards to the beginning."

"What are you thinking, Spence?" JJ wondered.

"I don't know. I just... maybe there's a detail we missed. At this point, even the smallest piece of clue is worth pursuing."

Several pair of eyes glued themselves on the screen as the livestream footage ran backward at a faster speed. Bated breaths waited in tension for just the tiniest hint that the team could scour to determine your location.

"Wait. What was that?" Spencer interjected. "Garcia, play that again."

"What? What is it?" Emily spoke up.

"Look at her hand." Spencer stood up from the desk, approaching the screen to get a better look. "She's knocking against the chair. Garcia, zoom in on her hand. The left one."

Penelope did as she was asked. "Is that--"

"It's morse code," Rossi muttered, realization overtaking his countenance.

"What is she saying?" JJ questioned.

"A-U--" Spencer began spelling out loud, "--T... Auto. She's spelling auto."

"Auto?" JJ's forehead creased. "As in... auto shop?"

"Her records said she went to a mechanic a week ago," Spencer recalled. JJ immediately rummaged through the papers on Spencer's desk, but the pages flipping inside of Spencer's mind moved at a thousand times more speed than any normal pair of eyes ever could. "Dinozzo's Auto Service, 894 Southwell Street."

"Got it," Penelope chimed in from her place in front of the laptop. "Dinozzo's Auto Shop. Originally owned by Carlo Dinozzo before it was passed down to his two sons after his death a year ago."

"Any of them named Arthur?" Rossi asked

"Nope. Luca and Piero."

"What about the employees?" Emily suggested.

"No. I'm not seeing any Arthur anywhere near that place."

"We profiled that the UnSub could be holding down a steady job in his everyday life," JJ said. "He might not even be related to that place. Maybe (Y/N) encountered him there by chance?"

"Nah, I doubt it." Rossi shook his head. "The bastard's too sophisticated to leave anything up to chance like that. He must have found a way to orchestrate it one way or another."

"There must be a connection somewhere, then. No way he just chose a random place off the map," Emily muttered. "We should cross-reference the name to anyone associated with the Dinozzos."

Penelope began to frantically type something into her laptop. "We've still got three names here. Oh, never mind. Two names, 'cause one of them is dead."

"What do we have on them?" Spencer asked.

"First is Arthur Doyle. He went to high school with Luca and Piero Dinozzo, works in a local company, and looks like he travels a lot for his job," Penelope explained. "There's also an Arthur Harrison, works as an accountant in the heart of Arlington. His dad and Carlo Dinozzo were long-time pals. Apparently, his dad was an accountant too and used to handle the shop's finances before Arthur inherited the office. Oh."

"What? What'd you find?"

"Arthur was engaged," Penelope murmured, "to a Claire Dumont. They were gonna get married last year but the wedding was called off just one month before the D-day."

"Where's Claire now?" JJ asked.

"She moved to Ohio shortly after the breakup, and... oh my God. Guess what?" Penelope looked up, her eyes widening almost comically. "She just announced her engagement three months ago."

Spencer hummed. "That could be the stressor."

An image of a woman suddenly appeared on screen, right above the paused footage of your hand. Everyone stared at the picture in shock.

"That's Claire Dumont," Penelope murmured.

JJ held her breath. "She and (Y/N) could be sisters."

"We've found our guy," Rossi declared. "Garcia, pull up every known address associated with this man. And hurry, we don't have much time."

"I have three properties so far connected to Arthur Harrison. Sending the addresses to all of your phones."

As JJ, Spencer, and Rossi rushed to exit the bullpen, Emily turned around and called out to the others, "I'm grabbing Morgan and Hotch!"

Without stopping to knock, Emily pushed open the door to Hotch's office, ignoring the slivers of tension dancing around in the air.

"We may have something," Emily announced to the room. "We think we know where (Y/N) is."

Your assailant--Arthur, as it turned out--pulled his phone out and pressed a few buttons in, silencing the beeping. Once the noise was gone, the room was quiet again.

He looked at you, then. Piercingly. You squirmed underneath his scrutiny.

"Wait here," he eventually said. "I'll be back."

Without taking a second to breathe, Arthur flew past you and towards the direction he had appeared from earlier.

"Wait! Wait. Where are you going?"

The sound of steps ceased on top of concrete. You waited with bated breath for his response. But the only sound ever came was that of the metal door, and as quickly as you could count to three, he was gone.

At last, you were alone once more.

The traces of adrenaline had begun to dissipate out of your system, leaving you in a shivering mess inside that damp concrete room. Once again, you attempted with all of your might to free yourself from the state of confinement you were in. But the metal cuffs binding you to the chair only dug further into your skin the more you tried to escape, while the chair itself stayed nailed in place no matter how hard you tried to rock it.

After a few more minutes of futile attempts, you were forced to face the reality of your situation.

You were never going to get yourself out of that dingy place alone.

Huffing a breath, you knew that there was nothing more you could do except to hope that your team found the hidden message you had left for them to solve.

And with that last thought conquering every room your head, you let yourself succumb to the impending darkness.

You woke up gasping for air.

It took you a few seconds to remember where you were, to remember that you weren't back in the comfort of your apartment and instead, you were still holed up in the darkened cold room where your abductor had been keeping you captive.

It took a few seconds more to realize that the drowning dream you just had might have been a tad bit more real than you initially thought.

Still reeling in shock, you peered up and locked eyes with your abductor, eyes barely registering the empty bucket he was holding in one of his hands. It didn't take a genius to conclude that he was the one responsible for your drenched state.

"W-what?" you stuttered meekly. "What's going on?"

He only stared at you in response.

"Arthur?"

You shrieked loudly when Arthur threw the empty bucket against the wall, sending a resounding "bang" throughout the whole room and breaking the plastic object into two misshaped pieces.

"Arthur--" you gasped, searching for your voice that seemed to have disappeared beneath the layers of brewing fear, "--w-what... what are you... what's going on? Talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you, you fucking bitch."

The beating inside your chest fastened. Before you could ask yet another question, Arthur had lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so you could stare directly into his eyes.

"You're a fucking liar," he seethed. "You lied to me. Everything you said was a lie, wasn't it?!"

"I don't--" you hissed, trying to ignore the biting pain in your scalp, "--I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Stop fucking lying!!!"

A sharp smack reverberated in the air.

It was only when the ringing in your ear grew louder did you realize that Arthur had slapped your cheek.

Hard.

Ignoring the tingling on the side of your face, you lifted your head once more. The room was spinning, tilting your balance left and right, but you held your ground through it all.

"What did I lie to you about, Arthur?" you asked carefully.

He threw something at your feet. It clanged against the hard ground below before landing face up near your toes.

It was your phone.

But the fact that Arthur somehow had your phone in his possession wasn't what caused the sick feeling to stir northward in your belly.

It was what you were seeing on the now cracked screen of your phone: a picture of you and Derek. A selfie that you had impulsively taken of the two of you in bed after one of your nighttime escapades.

For awhile there, you had briefly forgotten about that photo. It was another lost memory in the ocean of rubble left behind in the wake of your fallout with Derek. Seeing that photo again after such a long time triggered waves of emotions that you had been desperately burying for the past few weeks.

The longing, the guilt, the heartache.

The regrets.

The regret of ending your little arrangement so abruptly in such a hostile manner. The regret of not telling Derek sooner about the baby. The regret of maybe never being able to see Derek for one last time.

But most importantly, it was the regret over not revealing the truth of what your heart felt for him that was eating you alive.

"You're fucking him," Arthur fumed, eyes blazing with an indescribable fury that made your entire body shudder.

"Arthur, please... I can explain--"

"Shut the fuck up."

He stepped forward once more, crowding your personal place and rendering you helpless underneath his psychopathic gaze.

"Tell me the truth, and if you dare lie--" Arthur paused, his hand disappearing behind his back before it appeared again with a dagger that he promptly pressed against your abdomen, "--don't ever dream of meeting your child."

"Okay. Okay, I'll tell you the truth."

"You're fucking him, aren't you?"

The bile in your throat had tripled in size. Swallowing it down, you tried to even your voice out as you answered, "I was."

"Ha," he scoffed. "I knew it. You fucking whore. You're no better than any of them."

To your relief, he eventually chose to retract the dagger and stepped away from you, opting to circle the room like a distressed lion in a cage. But even with the blade no longer touching your skin, you knew very well that the danger wasn't over yet and that things could escalate even further in a matter of seconds if you weren't careful.

"Arthur," you called out to him softly, slowly, as to not startle him and risk doing something that would trigger a psychotic break. "Arthur, please. You have to listen to me. That arrangement ended long ago. It meant nothing to me. It happened long before I met you."

Arthur's voice echoed coldly as he replied, "I don't believe you."

"Please, Arthur--"

"That's his child, isn't it?" he cut you off, pointing the tip of the dagger at your belly. "What he said on the phone. He said my child. That's because it's his. You're having Derek Morgan's child."

"No--"

"I thought you were different. I thought you were the one." The dagger in his hand shook with venom. "But you're just the same as the rest of them."

"I'm not. Please, I'm not--"

"I have to start searching again. For the one. You're not her, which means she's still out there."

"Arthur--"

"I'll have to get rid of you."

"Arthur, please!" Your voice cracked, leaking of terror and desperation larger than anything you had ever known. When something wet touched the side of your nose, you realized then that you had started to cry. "Arthur, you have to believe me. I've ended everything with him. There's nothing between us anymore."

The words you uttered kept lingering in the air in a bubble made out of despair. But as if every single one of them had fallen on deaf ears, your captor paid no attention to them. Not even a single acknowledgment to your pleas.

Instead, he had begun taking careful steps forward. Silent and deadly, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Arthur, please! I choose you!"

To your shock, his steps faltered upon your words.

For a moment, you could taste relief on the tip of your tongue before it was washed away by the knowledge that you were not entirely out of the woods yet. But from the corner of your eye, you could see the slight loosening of Arthur's grip around the dagger. It filled you with enough hope to push forward.

"I'm choosing you, Arthur," you stated confidently, trying to convince him of your sincerity. "I don't care about Derek. I'm done with him. I'm done with my old life and everyone in it. I'm ready to leave everything behind to be with you. I choose you."

"You choose me?"

"Yes. I choose you to take care of me. To take care of this baby. The three of us can be a family. How does that sound?"

Seconds ticked into minutes. Minutes stretched into a long silence. The anticipation threatened to break your chest in half.

When he finally began to move once more, Arthur surprised you. He threw the dragger towards a darkened corner in the room, far away from his reach and, most importantly, far away from the possibility of it harming the growing life inside of you.

When Arthur took off the ski mask he had been wearing since the first time you opened your eyes in that harrowing place, you weren't at all surprised to see the face staring back at you. After all, it was the same face belonging to the man who had stopped his car for you when your own car had mysteriously broken down in the middle of the road just around two weeks prior. The same face who offered a business card of his friend's auto shop where you eventually went to get your vehicle fixed.

In retrospect, you should have been at least a little bit suspicious by the whole ordeal, but was it really your fault for choosing to put your trust in the good of humanity?

You knew there was no point in dwelling over what-ifs anymore. Arthur would've found a way, like any psychopath would, and you would've still ended up being tied up in this dismal room with him.

"Did you mean it?" Arthur asked.

You put on your best fake smile before answering, "Yes."

He grabbed you in his arms in just two long strides.

You wanted to throw up. You hated the feeling of his fingers stroking your back. You wanted to kick him away and get this piece of shit as far away from you and your baby as possible. You wanted to rid yourself of the lingering smell of him that had now undoubtedly transferred into your skin.

And maybe, you would've done all of those things if it was only your life that was on the line.

Unfortunately, fighting back was a luxury you couldn't afford anymore. So, you were forced to stay quiet instead, letting your captor whisper sweet nothings in your ear as if it didn't repulse you even being in the same room as him.

You were close to counting towards the 200s in your head when, suddenly, a clanking noise in the distance ripped your attention away.

In a split second, Arthur had peeled his arms from around you and got back on his feet. You knew then that he must have heard it, too.

You watched as he stepped away, dragging a crate from one corner of the room and placing it strategically underneath the only opening on the walls. He got on top of the crate to allow himself to peek outside, but whatever he saw must have startled him greatly. Because the next thing you knew, he had backed away from the wall in the blink of an eye, face crumpling in what could only be described as panic.

"The cops are here," he managed to sputter out.

"What?"

Your heart was hammering inside of its cage. The cops are here. You realized then that the team must have solved the clue you left them. They had solved the case, and they were coming to save you.

Derek was coming to save you.

"What did you do?!"

In a moment of weakness, you had allowed yourself to rejoice in the promise of freedom that you momentarily forgot you actually hadn't possessed it yet. The slip-up was miniscule, but it wasn't fleeting enough to escape the attention of your captor.

"You tricked me!" Arthur's voice boomed throughout the room, carrying rage unlike anything you had ever known. "I trusted you, and you lied to me! Again."

"Arthur--"

This time, there was no room for negotiation.

Arthur didn't even waste a millisecond before he dove forward. He was a lion, and you were the deer. His sharp teeth were calloused fingers, and they dug into your skin as Arthur tightened his grip around your throat.

"You lied to me. You lied to me."

He repeated those words like a mantra, his voice drowned out by desperate gasps as you tried to scour for what little bit of air you could still revel in. Your feet and arms shook beneath their restrains. Your head pounded from the pressure that had gathered inside your skull.

In that moment, death was imminent.

You could feel it coming. You could feel its claws clutching every single drop of life that was still remaining in your bloodstream. It was a battle between the two, and unfortunately, death was winning.

As the dark spots in your vision spread into a massive blotch, you allowed yourself to say goodbye. To life. To the world. To the memories of your loved ones whose faces you wished you could've memorized one last time.

To Derek, the one who could've been, the one you wished had been.

And to the child in your womb, the one you wished you could've met, the one you wished you could've saved.

When darkness came, you expected it to be cold and unforgiving, but as it turned out, darkness was easy. Simple. It welcomed you into its home with open arms, shielding you from the cruelties of the mundane world.

As it pulled you deeper into its abode, you could faintly hear the sound of your name being called repeatedly. It sounded similar. It sounded like home.

But this was your home now, so without turning back, you allowed darkness to lead you further down the dim path. Away from the pain and the heartbreaks of life. Far from the evil that lurked in the streets behind their well-crafted masks.

In the darkness, there was nothing.

In the darkness, you were nothing.

And nothing was exactly what you were going to be.

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • I

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 4.7K

General Fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares

Authors note: Chapter One: The Apparition - (EDITED 09-03-2024) This story was a request by an anon! I hope you enjoy my interpretation of the prompt (prompt is here). I am excited to see where this goes! Let me know any thoughts, and if you’d like to be tagged leave a comment :3

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

NOAH

The world was always in a state of grey, the life of the concrete jungle persistently sucking out the souls of its inhabitants with every passing second. Destruction. Crime. Greed. A shattering abyss of capitalism and corruption.

Yet, I don’t think I was meant to be the good guy in this lifetime.

Maybe someday, in another universe, there would be a possibility for me.

But for now, the only thing I could think about was how my heart pounded as the gun sat between my fingers, threatening the innocent ahead.

Destruction, Crime, Greed.

“Noah, let’s go,” Ruffilo desperately pulled at my wrist in an attempt to drag me away. My arm remained still, held in its position, resisting his force.

The woman’s eyes watched me in horror, tears brimming as her back hit the brick wall behind her, arms wrapping protectively around her body in defeat.

My heart raced, yet I couldn’t move.

“I won’t say anything I swear,” She pleaded, lips trembling, saliva foaming from her mouth as she was too afraid to swallow.

I don’t want to do this, but I fucked up.

“Noah,” Ruffilo said through gritted teeth, “We need to go,” he placed a hand on top of my gloved one, in another attempt to have me lower the bad decision.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut in contemplation as my chest heaved, the voice of rationality fighting against the voice of destruction.

You’ve never been able to kill anyone before you moron, why do you think this time will be any different?

My eyes snapped open, leathered finger dancing along the trigger as I stared at her. My teeth barred through chapped lips, a snarl of frustration crawling from my throat as the woman's eyes turned away in fear; as if watching her demise would kill her.

Seeing her in complete terror left me broken. Is this who I am?

The next thirty seconds passed as though I was walking through molasses, my thoughts battling contradictions before I audibly screamed in frustration, shoving the gun back into my pocket as Nicholas and I ran towards the van.

“Fuck!” I yelled, slamming the car door as forceful as possible. The tires squealed in place, burning out as Jolly’s foot pounded onto the gas pedal.

I ripped off my ski mask, throwing it angrily onto the floor of the vehicle.

“You should’ve just left her Noah. Now if they find us we could be charged with assault with a weapon.” The deep Swedish accent was the last thing I wanted to hear. He eyed me sternly in the rearview mirror, and I lingered on his gaze for a moment before turning my head towards the window.

“Oh Fuck off Jolly,” I sighed angrily, closing my eyes as my breathing quickened, the anxiety beginning to set in. The pounding of my heart began to vibrate along my entire chest, and my leg bounced in anticipation, waiting for the panic to subside.

I kept justifying to myself that we’re all dead anyway, so what’s the difference between a God and a loaded gun?

The van sped through the city's veins, a blur of neon and shadows. I felt Ruffilo's eyes digging into me, a mix of disappointment and concern as he watched my tapping fingers against the plastic of the car door. Another fuck up added to the list.

The silence in the vehicle was deafening, broken only by the occasional honk of a distant car or the screech of tires against wet asphalt.

"We need to lay low for a while," Jolly's voice cut through the tension. "I know a place on the outskirts we can hang out at ‘till everything cools down. It’s not pretty, but it'll do."

I nodded absent-mindedly, my thoughts still with the woman we'd left behind. Her terrified eyes haunted me, a stark reminder of the monster I was becoming. Or perhaps had always been.

As we drove further from the city center, the buildings grew more dilapidated, the streets emptier. The grey world outside mirrored the turmoil that had taken over my thoughts, reminding me of the emptiness that seemed to follow me everywhere.

+++++

Y/N

I tied the grey apron around my waist and punched in for my shift. With my hair pulled back into a low bun, I tucked away any stray strands of my bangs. Another day at work, feeling like it was all just slipping away, lost to the endless cycle of capitalism.

Overall, I enjoyed my new job working in the coffee shop. The city was busy, something I wasn’t used to, but the cafe was a comforting environment filled with tasty pastries, and an unlimited amount of caffeine to fulfill any heart's desire.

I sighed as I checked on the coffee pots, organizing them before nearly lining the glass display with more cakes and croissants. Stocking up the cups and lids, I hummed to myself, letting my mind wander into my corporate daydream distractions.

Why are you never real?

Whenever you appear

You leave me with that grace

I am trembling with fear

But I know that you will disappear

“How’s it going Y/N?” My coworker asked, smiling, pulling me out of my trance.

Annika; I have grown quite fond of her, even though I’ve only known her a week.

“Good,” I smiled, pulling a sanitized cloth out of a bucket and wiping down the counters, “yourself?”

“Oh you know, same old same old.” She said, sighing with a sad smile. I matched her as we shared a moment of familiarity, before concentrating again on wiping the surface, the cold cloth running along the faux marble. 

The seating area was bustling with activity; friends catching up, students poring over their notes, and business meetings taking place. I loved observing the vibrant energy that each person brought into the space. A smile formed on my lips as I watched the familiar elderly couple, whom I had seen every morning this week, bid farewell.

I gave a nod to Lauren and Ray as I said goodbye, then made my way to the empty tables. I began wiping them down, ignoring the sound of the door ringing as more people entered. I hummed softly to myself, lost in thought. It had only been three weeks since I left my old life behind, and this was just the start of my newfound freedom.

So let's make trouble in the dream world

Hijack heaven with another memory now

I make the most of the turning tide

It just split what's left of the burning silence

“Sleep token?”

Suddenly, a man's voice interrupted my thoughts and I snapped out of my daze. My face heated up with embarrassment as I realized that Annika must have gone to assist another customer. I quickly apologized and avoided eye contact as I tossed the cloth into the bucket and rushed back to the register.

I glanced nervously at the buttons in front of me, mentally preparing to either hit to go or to stay, as I waited for the man's response. But when my eyes met his deep brown gaze, I was instantly lost in the intensity and mystery within them. My lips parted slightly as I stared at him, feeling a rush of infatuation that warmed my cheeks. His dark chocolate eyes were framed by long, tousled brunette hair that fell just below his collarbone. His arms and neck were adorned with colourful tattoos, giving him an alluring look. And when he smiled, it was almost enough to make my knees weak; the crinkles around his eyes and the lines of his smile were captivating.

However, there was something else lurking behind those intense eyes, and my mind couldn't help but want to uncover it.

He returned my gaze, his eyes carefully taking in every detail of my face. A light blush crept along his nose, making its way across to the top of his cheekbones.

"So, is it to go or to stay?" I stuttered, breaking eye contact and quickly looking away. I could feel the heat rising to my ears and I focused all of my attention on the counter in front of me; trying to act casual but feeling a wave of shyness wash over me as I glanced up at him.

"To go, please," he replied, and his voice was like music to my ears with its slight Virginian accent.

In all my years working in retail and serving, I had never been so captivated by a customer before. There was something about this stranger that intrigued me; a mystery waiting to be discovered. "Just a black coffee, please," he said slowly, almost as if he was unsure.

I let out a shy laugh, “Did you want cream or sugar? Or we have a variety of syrups-” I watched as he smiled, before shaking his head, eyes remaining fixated.

“No, black is fine,” he replied. Something about his gaze, like the colour of October leaves, drew me in and held my attention as time seemed to stand still. As if invisible strings were connecting us, pulling me towards his magnetic presence that I couldn't seem to resist.

“Alright then,” I nodded, feeling a bit flustered as I avoided his stare, “is that all for you?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, digging through his wallet before handing me a bill.

“Can I have your name?” I asked shyly, looking back at him and trying to read his face for any clues about who he really was. Sometimes a name can reveal more than words ever could.

“Noah,“ he said, giving a slight nod and tight smile.

“Noah,” I echoed.

I pivoted on my heel and made my way over to the coffee maker, picking up a cup and filling it with the warm liquid.

Annika slinked up beside me, lightly bumping into my arm. "That's Noah," she whispered, nodding towards him, "He used to come here all the time, but he hasn't been around lately. He's always in a gloomy mood."

I glanced at her, unsure of how to respond.

"And he usually takes his coffee with cream and sugar, so it's interesting to see him trying something new." Annika turned her head slightly, observing the boy for a moment before leaning in closer to me. "Maybe it's because he's so distracted by you that he forgot his usual order."

A tinge of warmth spread across my face as I dismissed the idea with a scoff, "Yeah, right." But out of curiosity, I couldn’t help but glance over at the brunette behind the counter. Just as I suspected, he was discreetly watching us but quickly looked away when our eyes met.

"You should give him your number," Annika whispered mischievously before walking away to assist another customer.

I chuckled softly as I closed the lid and slid a sleeve onto the cup. My hand hovered over the sharpie, wondering if I should do it.

I shook my head gently, shaking away the thought before scribbling his name across the top of the plastic.

"Noah," I said, his name escaping my lips like a delicate sigh. It felt so natural as if he had been the one to breathe it into me.

His inked fingers wrapped around the cup, “You were singing the apparition earlier,” He said, and I watched him curiously, “fascinating, the line about the past.”

Every word felt like it was being taken from my body as we watched each other. Both of us seemed to hesitate, waiting for the other to say something.

The brunette spoke first, eyes gazing upon me for a moment as he turned towards the door, “I’ve never seen you before, you must be new around here.”

Though I wanted to reply, I found myself unable to move or speak. Instead, I fixated on each of his movements as he approached the door, the image of his black hoodie imprinted in my mind.

"Welcome to the neighbourhood," he said with a nod before exiting through the door, the bell chiming behind him.

I stood there, frozen, watching the door long after it had closed behind him. My heart raced, and I could feel a flush creeping up my neck. What was it about this stranger that had me so flustered?

"Earth to Y/N," Annika's voice snapped me back to reality. "You okay there? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I blinked rapidly, trying to regain my composure. "I'm fine," I mumbled, though I wasn't entirely sure that was true. "It's just... did you see him? The way he looked at me?"

Annika grinned knowingly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Oh, I saw alright. And I told you to give him your number, didn't I?"

I groaned, leaning against the counter. "I know, I know. I just... froze. God, why am I such an idiot?”

Annika smiled at me, kneading her fingers into my skin sympathetically. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Besides, he seemed pretty interested in you too. He’ll be back, he always comes here."

I sighed, straightening up and trying to shake off the lingering effects of the encounter. "Maybe. I just... I don't know what came over me. It was like time stopped for a moment there."

"That's called chemistry, sweetie," Annika winked. "And from where I was standing, there was plenty of it."

I busied myself with wiping down the counter, trying to distract myself from the memory of Noah's intense gaze.

But as the day wore on, I found my mind drifting back to those few moments. The way he mentioned the apparition as if he'd been paying attention to me long before I noticed him. As if he was the one to plant the lyrics into my mind. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Noah than met the eye.

As closing time approached, I found myself glancing at the door more frequently, half-hoping he might return. But the bell remained silent, and soon enough, Annika and I were wiping down tables and stacking chairs.

"Why don't you head out early, I can finish up,” She said, wiping her hands on the apron tied to her waist.

I gave her a small smile, appreciating the gesture, “I’d love that. Especially since I have to be at the bar tonight.”

“Go,” she waved me off, and I gave her a nod, gathering my bag.

As I stepped out into the cool evening air, I couldn't shake the way his eyes had locked with mine, the subtle rasp in his voice - it all replayed in my mind like a broken record. Was I going crazy? What was wrong with me?

I shoved my hands in my pockets and started the short walk to my condo, my footsteps echoing on the quiet street. The sky was a canvas of deep pinks and oranges, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon at its 5 pm descent.

It was beautiful, but I barely noticed it, too lost in my thoughts.

Suddenly, a familiar figure caught my eye across the street. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the black hoodie and inked fingers. Noah. He was walking in the opposite direction, his head down, seemingly lost in thought.

I hesitated, my feet rooted to the spot. Should I call out to him? Cross the street? The moment stretched out, feeling like an eternity as I debated what to do. Before I could make a decision, Noah looked up and our eyes met once again.

Time seemed to slow as we stood there, frozen on opposite sides of the street, and a car passed between us, momentarily breaking our connection. When it cleared, I saw the brunette take a hesitant step towards the crosswalk.

My heart pounded in my chest as he made his way across the street. I remained rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak as he approached.

"We meet again," Noah said softly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Hi," I managed to squeak out, inwardly cringing at how breathless I sounded.

"I, uh, I wanted to thank you for the coffee earlier," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was really good. Although I forgot to ask for cream and sugar.”

I felt a flutter in my chest at his words. "Oh, I'm sorry about that," I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I usually remember to ask."

Noah shook his head, his eyes never leaving mine. "No, no. It's not your fault. I was... distracted."

The way he said it, with a hint of shyness in his voice, made my heart race even faster. We stood there for a moment, the silence stretching between us, filled with nervous energy.

"I'm Y/N, by the way," I finally said, extending my hand.

He took it, his touch sending a jolt through my body as his fingers wrapped around my own. "Noah. But you already knew that."

Well, I believe,

Somewhere in the past,

Something was between,

You and I, My dear

Noah’s gaze met mine, our eyes searching for any unspoken words. But he broke the silence with a blunt question: "Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?"

His unexpected inquiry caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but give him a dumbfounded look, my eyebrows furrowing in shock. Slowly, a smile of disbelief spread across my lips and I tilted my head to look at him. A laugh escaped me and he joined in, his own laughter shy and reserved.

"I...I think you should walk by again," I managed to say between giggles, mustering a quick retort. "But only so I can get another glimpse of what you would look like walking towards me on a date." As soon as the words left my mouth, I cringed at how cheesy they sounded, but Noah's smile widened at our playful banter.

“So, I’ve gathered that we are both really terrible at flirting,” He said, licking his lips.

I hummed in agreement, “I think that can be a safe deduction from this one-minute conversation,” my eyes following his fingers that now ran through his long chestnut hair, eyes trailing over the flower on the back of his hand, “maybe, you’d like to see how bad a longer conversation could be?” 

I held out my phone, ready to exchange numbers and Noah's eyes lit up at my suggestion, a hint of mischief dancing in them as another smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I'd like that," he said softly, passing me his phone as we shared each other’s informatoin. "Very much."

We stood there for a moment, both of us grinning like idiots before I remembered my shift at the bar. "Oh, shoot," I muttered, glancing at my phone. "I have to get to my other job soon."

Noah's face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Right, of course. I wouldn't want to keep you."

I bit my lip, not wanting our encounter to end just yet, “But we could take a walk before I have to go?”

Noah's face brightened at my suggestion. "I'd love that," he said, falling into step beside me as we started walking down the sidewalk.

The setting sun cast long shadows across the pavement, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead. We walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, stealing glances at each other when we thought the other wasn't looking.

"So," Noah began, breaking the silence, "you work at a coffee shop and another place? Busy schedule."

I nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Yeah, it can be hectic sometimes, but gotta do whatcha gotta do…You mentioned earlier that you've never seen me before. Are you a regular at the café?"

Noah nodded, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. "Yeah, I usually stop by every morning…a little bit of stability and sameness in my life.”

“You don’t find that sameness boring?”

Noah shook his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Not at all. There's comfort in routine, you know? But..." he paused, glancing at me with a soft smile, nudging towards me, "I'm not opposed to a little excitement now and then."

I felt my cheeks warm at his words, and I couldn't help but smile back. "Well, I'm glad to hear that."

We strolled on, our shoulders grazing occasionally. The slight touch sent shivers through my body every time.

"I was just listening to this song by Deftones you might enjoy," he said as we walked aimlessly down the street without a plan, “Considering you like sleep token.”

"Can I try to guess?" I looked up at Noah, who stood tall above me. Despite his lanky frame, I felt small next to him and my heart raced at our closeness. With each of his strides, it felt like I had to take three steps, his Dior cologne filling my senses.

Why are you never real?

The shifting states you follow me through

Unrevealed

Just let me go or take me with you

"Is it sex tape?" I asked and Noah gave me a big grin, clearly impressed.

"I have no idea how you guessed the exact song," he chuckled, looking at me curiously.

"What can I say," I shrugged, "I'm good at reading pretty boys' minds. And it's a great song, similar vibe."

He playfully raised an eyebrow at me as we reached the crosswalk. "So you think I'm pretty?"

I watched the other side of the street and smiled as I hummed, "Well, I don't think I'd spontaneously go out with just anyone….For the record, 100 percent my type,” I said, looking at him through my lashes.

Noah's cheeks flushed with colour once again. "And what exactly is your type? I'll keep an eye out for them, just for you."

I thought about it for a moment, biting my lip. "Well, they tend to be hot brunettes with long hair and brown eyes," I trailed my gaze down his body, taking in his hands before looking back up to see the snake tattoo peeking above his hoodie collar, "and they must have tattoos...in variousplaces."

A deeper shade of red coloured Noah's cheeks. "Well, I do have tattoos in various places, if you ever feel curious."

I laughed, watching him. We stared at each other for a moment longer, my heart pounding, as his eyes devoured me before the beeping of the sidewalk timer pulled my attention away from him.

“I have to admit, this is probably the strangest thing I’ve ever done,” I confessed, shaking my head in disbelief as we walked along the park path.

“What do you mean?” Noah asked, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets as he looked between me and the path ahead.

"Going on a ‘date’ with someone I know nothing about," I started, trying to keep things light. "For all I know, you could be a serial killer."

Noah chuckled. "Valid point. This wasn't exactly how I expected to spend my Tuesday evening either, but I do find a dash of danger titillating.” 

I grinned at him. "So you're not a serial killer then?"

"Not that I know of. Pretty sure that's not something I would get enjoyment from," Noah laughed, but I noticed he looked away, eyes becoming distant.

“So who are you then?” I asked as Noah and I followed each other down the park path towards the neighbourhood. The wind was picking up slightly, causing me to shiver and pull my sleeves over my hands, fingers intertwining together in my hoodie pouch. We were walking along a path by the inner city river, the leaves of the birch trees swaying as they danced along to nature’s beat.

As I strolled next to Noah I felt an odd sense of comfort, despite knowing absolutely nothing about the man beside me. I eyed him, his hair flying behind him, eyes squinting through the wind.

Noah seemed to ponder my question for a moment, his eyes scanning the water beside us. "I'm just a guy trying to figure out his place in the world, I guess," he said, “I don’t know who I am.”

As the river rushed by, his words hung in the air, washing away memories of the city and carrying them through the earth in a predetermined path.

"Sometimes I feel like a lost soul," He said softly, his eyes distant as if lost in thought.

I nodded, understanding his sentiment. "I think we all do at times."

Noah let out a low chuckle, pulling himself back to reality. "There's much more to your story though," he prodded.

I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to deflect his question. "I suppose everyone has a past."

He looked at me intently, pulling his hoodie over his head to shield himself from the wind. "What's yours? You're not from around here."

I arched an eyebrow, curious about how he had determined this information. "How did you know?" I inquired.

"Your accent," he replied with confidence. "And I haven't seen you around before. I'm pretty familiar with the area."

"Ah, makes sense." I nodded, amused by his observation. "I just moved here from Canada."

"You left the Great White North for this dump of a city?" Noah scoffed, surprised. "You could have gone anywhere in the world, and you chose LA?"

"They call it the City of Dreams," I defended with a shrug. "Plus, I needed to get as far away as possible."

Noah fell silent for a moment, deep in thought. We continued our walk in silence towards the houses.

"Running away from something?" He finally asked, barely above a whisper. Noah's eyes met mine as he tried to read me for an answer.

I let out a sigh, giving him a small smile. "Always."

"Who or what?" Noah prodded further, leaning in with interest.

"Ghosts, demons," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. "And people too."

We shared a laugh, our voices blending into a beautiful melody that I never wanted to end.

"I left everything behind - everything I've ever known," I began, but turned my head away to avoid his gaze.

I took a deep breath before admitting, "My parents were killed when I was thirteen."

Usually, people would immediately apologize and offer their condolences, but Noah remained silent, letting me continue.

"After that, I bounced around different foster homes because no one wants to take in a teenager."

Noah hummed, encouraging me to keep talking. We strolled down the sidewalk, passing houses as we neared my own. I couldn't help but stare at it as we passed by, but I quickly focused on the path ahead.

"Unfortunately, I fell in with the wrong crowd and ended up involved with some really bad people who only wanted me for what I could give them," I said with a hint of bitterness. "But I worked my ass off to get out, and now I have my own place in an entirely new part of this earth."

I smiled at the brunette, feeling grateful for his willingness to listen. He returned the smile and gave me a knowing look, almost as if he understood.

Noah's attention turned toward the houses we passed. His gaze was intense as he scanned each one carefully.

"Sorry for dumping all that on you," I said with an uncomfortable laugh. "I don't know why I just told all that to a stranger."

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "We're not strangers anymore," he said. "More like acquaintances."

I felt reassured by his words and couldn't help but ask about him. "So what about you? You seem pretty mysterious."

Noah fell into silence, his brows furrowed in thought once again. His gaze scanned the grass intently as if searching through memories. Eventually, he turned back to me with a small grin.

“I’m…just Noah,” He said; but as I stared into his eyes, devouring his soul, I saw that he was much more than that. His eyes held a depth of emotion that hinted at hidden truths and untold tales. But I didn't push. After all, we had only just met.

"Well, 'just Noah,'" I said with a playful smile, "I'm glad our paths crossed today."

He returned my smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Me too. More than you know."

chapter two

+++++

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

@princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant

@veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs

@flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

@hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil @thefallennightmare

@blend-in-with-the-madness @reyadawn @deathblacksmoke @Anameunmusical @sitkowski

@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

[golbrocklovely]

cultish love // colby brock

A/N: first off, so sorry for this being so late, i had a lot of things i had to edit about this fic. also this is my longest fic ever ! like the other fic before this, this is a AU version of colby… where he, you guessed it, is a cult leader. and he is also corrupt (but like aren't all cult leaders). again this deals with some possible heavy themes, so give a good read of the trigger warnings before reading ahead. i've always joked about colby being able to lead a cult, and that's basically where this idea came from. this fic also took a turn i wasn't expecting, but i like it anyway. also the first half is written as a journal entry (all italized) and then the rest is an actual fic (not italized). lmk what you think, and happy haunting !

prompt: you're a journalist, and your next big story is on the 'empathic love' cult, led by none other than colby brock. this cult is not known well, but you are getting a first hand look at them and what they do. and quickly, colby takes a liking to you. || fem!reader x AU!cult leader!colby brock

trigger warning: SMUT, no actual sex but you do get mentally fucked (it will make sense in the story), cult vibes all around, love bombing, cursing, supernatural powers, colby is very intense and kinda scary but also still his charming self, slight dubcon similar in vain to sam's story - you never say no outright, but you do have general feelings of 'wtf is this, idk if i like' so if that's too much for you, feel free to read something else :), colby's aura is crazy good at giving you visions, strangers-to-soulmates?? don't know if that's a tag lol, also…. colby's technically bisexual in this????? but like barely

word count: 8610

I've been a reporter for only five years, and this story.... it could make or break my career. Cults aren't as prevalent as they once were way back when. They still exist, just in the shadows. A lot quieter on most fronts. Usually disguised as a business or religion, for tax reasons of course. But this cult, Empathic Love, is unlike any cult I've heard of.

Of course, they don't call themselves a cult, but that's what they are. How else would you describe a bunch of randos following one man around wherever he goes?

They only started so many years ago, right before I graduated university. The main founder, Colby Brock, is a pragmatic individual, according to his followers. The cult began blowing up in my town a little over two years ago, and now people flock from all over the world to visit the Love Compound. You would think it's Disney World the way people grow excited about it.

But I am here to get to the truth of this cult. What is their motive? What are they planning to do? Will this be another Waco or Heaven's Gate? What sinister beliefs hide underneath the modern-day hippie aesthetic they show?

These notes will document everything I experience for the next couple of days. And in case I go missing, these are my proof of who's to blame.

I don't think it will go that far, but you can never be too sure.

~~~~

Day 1 - Investigation

I'm still incredibly surprised I was allowed to come onto the Love Compound. The leader himself apparently reached out to my boss and told them that they wanted someone to come down and interview the group. They allow visitors from time to time, "new recruits" as some of the townspeople call them, but reporters have never been allowed in. Not once. Until me.

Driving up to the compound was nerve-wracking. I never imagined I would be nervous; I've interviewed plenty of criminals in my years, have done full blown investigations into scary, horrifying crimes. But something about this place freaked me out. Partially because I didn't know what I was getting into. But another part of me, and I will never admit this out loud, felt... at home.

The only promise I made to myself was I wouldn’t drink any kool-aid while there. So, I plan to stick to that. Pretend my previous statement never existed.

I was greeted by a beautiful woman when I got there: Avery. No one went by last names. And some apparently changed their names altogether, which was not surprising. My guess is there were most likely criminals hanging out amongst the group. But I had no proof of that, just a hunch. It easily could be a safe haven for those wanting to escape whatever life they had before.

The compound was three Victorian style mansions connected to each other and had a decent size farm attached - about 222 acres. Avery told me about all of the vegetables and chickens they farmed. Everything was organic and used up as often as possible. Anything that couldn't be eaten or produced too much for the only 100ish people in the compound, was sold at the farmer's market or given away to the local food bank. Avery explained to me very clearly that everyone in the compound chipped in one way or another. Some still worked normal jobs, but just lived here with everyone. But she noted that Colby hoped in the near future no one would have to work at all and they would be self-sufficient in a couple years.

A cult with future plans? Almost unheard of.

I told Avery that I was given an all-access pass to ask anything I wanted to, and nothing I asked could be ignored or deflected. She agreed to an interview. I recorded all of it, but here are the highlights of what I gathered.

I asked her why Colby was such a secretive man. There were very few photos of him that did exist out there, but all that was rumored about him was his alluring eyes and generally attractive presence. She agreed that he was handsome, describing his as having "ocean blue eyes" and his voice was to die for. "Deep and arousing", as she explained.

I noted that she seemed almost lost in thought at the idea of him, like she was envisioning him directly in front of her. Strange behavior; but not for a cult follower. Many end up falling in love with their leader, believing they have a genuine relationship with said person.

I bought up the name of the group, Empathic Love, and said it felt a little too inviting. She laughed and told me that it was right on the money - the best way to describe why everyone was there. She expressed to me that so many of Colby's followers wanted peace and love and light, and that being in this group felt like that. It was rewarding to be surrounded by those that cared and wanted to see each other succeed. Life outside the walls of the compound was rough, scary, draining; but inside, it was all love.

Call me cynical, but I don't believe that for a second. It took all the strength I had to keep from rolling my eyes at her. But I could tell from her voice, her motions... she was telling the truth. Well, her truth.

I wanted to know what brought her here, so she spoke of her previous life. She was abused growing up, moved around a lot in foster care. She was almost homeless, and then one day she ran into Colby. He had just begun the Empathic Love group, and she just knew she had to stick with him. Her life immediately turned around the moment he was in her life. The adoration in her eyes told me a different story, so I pressed her - "are you and Colby... together?" She smiled and said no, but she knew that they were life partners before, just not currently.

Oh... so it's one of those types of cults.

She said that Colby doesn't have a second in command, wife, girlfriend, whatever. Everyone is equal and heard. He's just the face of the group, which is a bit ironic given even I have no clue what he looks like. I knew he was young, in his mid-20s. But other than that, no idea.

I needed to know, why stay? What keeps you here? A dreamy look came over her, like she had said this a million times before: "Colby. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Chills ran up my spine at the tone of her voice. It was dull, and her words sounded like a mantra, the way she said them so easily.

I wrapped up my interview with her, quiring if I was allowed to interview others. She said yes and began sending over random people one-by-one to me.

If I hadn't gotten chills from her first, I would have from everyone else. Something about seeing everyone saying similar things, smiling happily, like the ship isn't sinking around them was eerie. It made my stomach churn when I would ask questions I already asked Avery, and get almost the same speech back.

I interviewed about 15 people. All variety of ages and genders. I suddenly realized that there were no children around, and everyone was over the age of 21.

Consenting adults… minus the supposed brainwashing.

A couple of the interviewees stuck out to me:

Penelope, 25. Her upbringing was similar to Avery's, but she still kept in contact with her family. Apparently, she wasn't the only one like that either. Many still kept in touch and even visited their loved ones. I asked her to describe Colby, tell me anything about him. She giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, and began to weave such a story about him. He was kind and caring. His smile was contagious, just like his laugh. And his singing voice was fantastic. She talked about him like he was a boy band member, and she was his biggest fan. I asked her to give one word to describe him, and she said "Love. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Greg, 36. He had fallen into rough times, and desired a fresh start. He had heard about this group online, and figured checking them out while he was in town wouldn't hurt. And that was a couple years ago. I wondered why he didn't feel weird listening to someone that was younger than him, and he shrugged. It was nice not having eyes on him. He loved being in a wallflower, and he believed that Colby deserved all the love he got from everyone in the group. Every ounce he got was ten-folded back into the group. Greg had never felt so connected to a group of people and he knew it was all thanks to Colby. "He brought love into my life like I never have had it before. Because that's who he is: love."

Heather, 29. She mentioned how for most of her life she felt like shit. Her confidence was at an all-time low when she met Colby. He encouraged her to keep at it, to love herself and find happiness everywhere. And by spending more and more time with him, she did. She has never felt more confident about herself, her life, her direction, and Colby is the reason for that. The tone that took over her voice when she bought him up was odd. It was very similar to a partner describing the love of their life, almost like wedding vows. I asked her haphazardly about her love life, how that was going for her. And she told me she had been on many dates - something she never used to do back when she was younger or before Colby. But she did note that regardless of who she ends up with, she knows that a part of her heart will always belong to Colby. They were connected, forever. "Love and light and happiness is what I desired, and I got it - all because Colby exists in my life now."

It felt like I was getting nowhere with some of these interviews. Many said the same thing, Colby being love and light and blah blah blah. I wanted someone that wasn't gonna just quote to me whatever mantra he made them learn. And luck was on my side, because I was able to interview their newest member, Ash. They were 23, and very beautiful. There was an almost smugness about them, like they knew they were the shiny new toy on the block. The confidence only a young 20-something year old could have.

I asked them, point blank, about Colby. Be brutally honest. They told me he was hot, and that's what drew them to him. They liked the idea of living in a group setting, especially since they grew up with many brothers and sisters. They liked helping out, and they liked knowing that Colby was keeping an eye on them the most recently. I then followed up with how long it took for them to join the group. "Three days. That's how long it takes for everyone."

I questioned them about the "Colby is love" thing, and they agreed it was a bit strange, but they couldn't help but feel the same way as everyone else. They were like a moth to a flame when it came to him. Everything about him was hypnotizing, entrancing. It was like staring at the sun; even though you knew to look away, you just couldn't help it.

Then I had to know: were they sleeping with him? Most of these cults feed off of the leader fucking every person they wanted to and leaving other members high and dry. But for some reason, it felt as if Colby was sleeping with everyone with the way they all talked about him. Ash dissented, saying no one was sleeping with him. He didn't sleep with any of his followers. But they all shared a deep, sensual mental connection with him. They felt like, sometimes, he was in their soul. And that sensation alone was euphoric, bordering on orgasmic. They also knew that in another life, they would have been together, similar to what Avery said.

It was then I knew that this group was clinically insane, or just really infatuated by what Colby was selling. It had to have been some crazy brainwashing. But it was odd; people were allowed to leave, to see loved ones, to have lives outside of the compound walls. Hell, some had dating lives that included those not here! That's unheard of, and completely stupid on Colby's part if he wants to keep things going.

A cult leader that wanted to watch his world implode.... I had to meet him. I had to meet the myth that was Colby Brock. And tomorrow I get my chance to.

~~~~

Day 2 - Interview with Colby

I feel the need to explain that these are my notes, not really meant for anyone else to see. And really, the only reason anyone would be seeing this is if I disappear or got murdered.

So, I say all of that just so I know, for myself, that this is a safe space for me to express my truest emotions and thoughts after interviewing Colby.

And all I can say, honestly, is that... I get it. I understand it now.

I felt my nerves hit their break last night before going to sleep, unable to stop my mind reeling from what was to come. I ended up bringing along a bodyguard, or really a photographer. I had known Trey since I started working as a journalist, and I knew I could rely on him to get us out of the Empathic Love compound if anything went south. I wasn't sure what I was up against when I went to interview Colby, but God... I didn't think I was so underprepared.

I met him in his office, Avery walked me over to it. It was up in the attic of the third house. It overlooked the entire property with wide windows. For an attic, I expected it to feel dark and dusty, but surprisingly it was light and airy. Almost like being out in the woods and taking a deep breath.

Colby was sitting in his main office chair. He spun around to see us, a light smile on his face. I'll be honest - I was taken aback by his beauty. I understood Ash's whole spiel about him being attractive and looking at him was like looking at the sun. It was intense. He was intense. His blue eyes bore into me, almost like they could see through me. I felt chills, but they weren't of fear. It was out of... excitement, of awe.

He greeted me, giving me a warm handshake. I hate to admit that I almost blushed at the sound of him saying my name. I had to take a couple deep breaths before starting. Avery left the room, and Trey sat outside the door, in case of backup.

I recorded our interview, knowing that I couldn't keep track of everything he said. But listening back to it now, his voice.... it's like a song. A beautiful, spellbinding song. I could almost fall asleep to it....

I asked him about his life, and how he came to be a leader for a group like Empathic Love. He spoke of his upbringing lightly, barely scraping the surface. He talked about growing up pretty normally, having a loving family, a great friend group, and then one day realizing that he could make a change in the world. That many people loved him and loved being around him. And that's when he knew that if he could make their lives better, he would. So, he started Empathic Love. Originally, it was just gonna be a safehouse for those that needed it. But then more and more people joined and suddenly, it grew into what it was today.

I asked where his family was now. "In Kansas," he told me. He said nothing further than that.

He humbly spoke of all the love he received from his followers, or his "friends" as he put it. They all cared about him in a way that he only wished he could return tenfold. I questioned him about the whole "Colby is love" thing. "How come everyone says almost the exact same thing, like they've been brainwashed into saying it?" He didn't even trip over his words as he spoke matter-of-factly to me. "I didn't come up with that phrase, they did. You would have to ask them. I take it as the highest form of a compliment, truly. I'll be honest, it's a bit embarrassing at times when they call me that, but I can't help what they do. I appreciate their love, nonetheless."

I continued asking him about different topics, until finally reaching the one I was most intrigued about. "How many of your followers - excuse me - friends, have you slept with?" He smirked, smirked, at me and said "None. Did any of them tell you that we slept together?"

"No, but the way they talk about you like the sun shines out of your ass does seem a bit odd, don't you think?"

He looked unphased. God, he had an answer for everything. "I'll be honest with you, some of my friends might be in love with me. But I make it abundantly clear that while I love them, and love their love, I don't have feelings for them. I'm still looking for the one."

I remember holding back a glare, "So, you're celibate?"

"Now, I never said that." He let out a chuckle, then his eyes darkened. "Why do you care so much about my sex life? Unless of course, you want to join it."

I tried ignoring his gaze and his words but stuttered through my next question. “Then who exactly is the right one for you, if it's not one of your followers or friends?”

It took him a while to answer, he even closed his eyes for a bit. He sat up once he knew, sauntering over to his window that overlooked it all. "I imagine the one for me is someone that will bring peace to me and my life. Someone that for all my faults, can see who I am truly deep down. She will love me, and I will worship her. I will show her what true love feels like. Our souls will be one, because they always have been."

Something strange came over me. I don't know why I said it, but I uttered, "What about looks?"

Who cares about looks! Why did I ask about looks? I was a serious journalist, not a reporter for Star Magazine!

He looked over his shoulder at me, "Looks aren't that important to me. What matters is mind and soul. Who you are deep down. But if I had to pick… someone like you. I feel someone like you would be a perfect fit around here."

I wanted to give him the sassiest voice and rebuttal I could muster, but deep down I was shaking. Energy raced through my body, like I had been electrified.

He kept his back to me, staring out the window. “I'm not trying to be overly complimentary. I'm just being honest. But I can tell that you would do so well to have us around. To have... me, in your life. I bring a lot of love to people's lives, that's for sure. But I also bring a lot of drive, and passion, and intimacy.”

Intimacy?

“People open up when I'm around. They tell me everything, even things they never dreamt of telling another person. And I allow it, because clearly, they needed to express it. And once they do, it's like the floodgates open. Love and light just start pouring into them, into their life, and it's overwhelming - but so worth it. Doesn't that sound nice?”

I guess so...

“I bring happiness to so many. My friends have told me that they get jittery around me, I'm like a shot of adrenaline. And that energy, that power, courses through them. And when it gets expressed, it comes out in…” He took a long pause, turning back to me. The look in his eyes… I can remember it as if he was still in front of me. “Pleasurable ways.”

I hate admitting this, and it's embarrassing to say it even now, but I felt a jolt of... something, run through me. I won't even say what it was out loud, in fear of never being taken seriously again. But what happened after that, I don't know if words can even express it well.

Colby continued talking, but I couldn't pick up on any of it. He was talking up a storm, but I couldn't help the sensations I was feeling. Even in my wildest of fantasies, I've never felt anything in reality. It was all in my mind. But in that very moment, it felt like it was happening to me.

I felt lips tread up my neck, stopping just below my ear. A hot, low moan breathed into my ear. My spine tingled at the sound, my hands gripping the armrests of the chair. If I didn't know any better, I would think Colby was behind me, making those noises. My hands suddenly felt hands on top of them. My eyes widened, looking down, but nothing was there. I couldn't really move my arms once the invisible hands were there. My whole body felt numb and heavy, relaxed. My mind was the one on edge, worried as to why I was feeling all of this.

I hadn't eaten or drank anything at the compound. Maybe it was being poured into the room by the vents? I don't know, but something was making me feel this way.

The invisible hands drifted up my arms, massaging my shoulders for a moment. My head lulled back, almost hitting the back of the chair. My mind was on high alert, but my body was about ready to fall asleep. The hands relaxed me so much that my eyes began to flutter.

But then... they drifted down my torso. They traced along my neck gently, drawing small, insignificant patterns. The hands grew lower and lower until they finally were on my chest. I felt the hands cup my breasts softly, my breath hitching in my throat. They kneaded my tits gingerly, my nipples hardening in my bra. I bit my lip, praying that I wouldn't make a sound. It was hard not to, especially when the delicate fingers of these invisible hands found my nipples, gently pinching them.

I remember closing my eyes tight. Trying to clear my mind. This wasn't actually happening to me. There was no way. This was a psychosis or a drug hallucination that was happening to me and Colby was doing nothing about it.

One hand drifted down my body, stopping right above my sex. I suddenly became very aware at how wet I was, my eyes widening. I felt a rush of blood flow through my cheeks. I was about to get caught. These invisible hands made me wet, and I couldn't stop them.

And the terrible thing was, I didn't want them to. I wanted them to finish the job. To get me off... in front of Colby. One hand rose back up my body, grabbing my neck and turning my face to look up at him.

A deep voice whispered harshly, "You want him, don't you?"

I didn't say anything, afraid of what would come out. But deep down, I knew.

"Say it, and it's yours. Say you want him. And he'll have you... forever."

I opened my mouth. I felt the words almost leave my lips. I stuttered out something. I closed my eyes, my body feeling high.

And then in a split second, it was all gone. The room grew quiet, and Colby cleared his throat. "Y/N, are you okay? You look flush."

I jolted out of my seat, being able to move freely again. I looked around and realized Colby was sitting once more, staring at me concerned. I finished the interview abruptly, saying I had everything I needed - even though I definitely didn't. And then he uttered words I wish I didn't hear.

"If you want, come back tomorrow. We are having a celebration here. I would love if you came by, even if for an hour."

I nodded, not even really taking in what he said, and left. Trey was confused as to why I bum-rushed out of the room, but I never told him the truth. How could I?

I knew deep down I shouldn't have said yes to go to the party. But getting that footage would be killer for my article. Interviews are great, but a party at a cult compound? That's bound to end terribly (for Colby, but great for me).

But something in me can't shake this feeling that I basically signed myself up for the end. End of what? I'm not sure. But I'll find out tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Stepping back onto the compound made my heart race. I was nervous as all hell, and just wanted this day to be over with already. Today was my last day doing this story. I was counting the minutes to when I could go back to my office and write about how this place was insane, or whatever narrative I planned to write.

I had enough proof that something was up here. All I needed to do was a bit more digging. And during the party is when I planned to do it.

Avery walked up to me, smiling brightly. "Hey, Y/N! How are you doing today?"

"I'm okay. I know it's a bit early, but Colby never specified when the party was going to take place." I replied.

"No, you're totally fine. The party is gonna happen later. Right now, though, we have something going on that you'll definitely want to see." She clapped excitedly.

"Oh? And what is that?" I questioned.

"We are inducting a new member!" she exclaimed giddily. "There's a whole process that we do, and everyone is involved. I imagine that will bode well for your article if you see it firsthand. It's all taking place in that tent."

I stared over at the huge tent, its plastic cover doors strangely inviting.

I hummed, "Sure, I'll be there in a moment."

Avery nodded, turning on her heels and prancing over to the tent, following in other members.

"What's happening in there?" Trey asked.

"Apparently they are inducting someone new into their cult." I informed him.

He blinked. "Group, you mean."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, whatever. Make sure to capture as much as you can."

He shook his camera, giving me a wink, "On it."

We both walked in, many members still up and around, giving everyone hugs and chatting. Avery waved me down, patting the seat next to her. I walked over and sat. My body tingled in anticipation. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My breathing picked up as everyone grew silent, the doors opening. Colby walked in, and people rushed to their seats.

Colby called out, "Hello everyone, good morning."

"Good morning, Colby." Everyone said in unison.

Jesus, that was creepy.

"A lot of things are going to be different today. First, we have guests watching our festivities. Y/N and Trey. Everyone, give them a hand." He gestured to the two of us.

The tent exploded in applause, Avery evening rubbing my back sweetly. It felt like I was being congratulated on something I didn't achieve, my cheeks flushing at the acknowledgement.

"And secondly, sadly, the new member we were going to have decided not to stay." He frowned, his face dropping.

Members gasped, some audible "oh no" echoed around the tent. Colby nodded his head sympathetically. “I know, but fret not. I think this will be a learning experiment for our new guests. We can still do our traditional motions of having someone join us. But, imagine it as if it's a mock ceremony instead. Ms. Y/N, would you please step up here?”

My heart stopped when he looked into my eyes, the first time since yesterday. I glanced at Avery, who grinned enthusiastically. She pushed me out of my seat, my body following her lead. I gazed around, finding Trey, who pulled away from his camera with a concerned look. I stumbled up the walkway, stepping on stage with Colby.

Colby lowered his voice so I could only hear him, moving away from the microphone. "I know you wanted to know about how we induct someone into our little home, so I figured why not use you as an example? We aren't actually inducting you, in case you’re worried. This is just what would happen if you were joining. Are you okay with that?"

I gazed around the huge, white tent, making eye contact with many people in the audience. They all looked so eager, waiting to hear my response. Some were even shaking with excitement.

I stuttered, feeling Colby squeeze my hands to bring my attention back to him, "I-I guess so."

"Fantastic." He turned, still holding one of my hands, "Alright everyone, you know the drill."

The crowd cheered, suddenly many lining up to a microphone at the side of the stage. Colby lightly pulled me to a cushioned throne, sitting me down. "So here's what's going to happen. People are going to come up to that microphone, and they are going to give you plenty of love. Genuine love. And then the next person will go, and so on until everyone has spoken."

"Everyone here? Like, all hundred plus of you?" I whispered.

"Yes. It's gonna be a while, so get cozy." He laughed, rubbing my shoulders.

Time felt frozen as slowly everyone came up and said something nice about me. Some were quick, mostly just commenting on how nicely I dressed or how the stories I had covered in the past were interesting and thoughtful. But others, it's like they could see into my soul and point out the exact thing I was insecure about. Everyone was complimentary and it was nice, but exhausting.

The line had dwindled down, and the next person to speak was Avery.

She stepped up the microphone, giving me a huge smile. "Hi, Y/N. I know we don't know each other that well, but I feel like I've known you my whole life. These couple days of getting to know you, being interviewed by you, have just been the highlight of my life. You are such a lovely presence to be around, and you deserve all the success you've gotten these last couple years."

Lots of people in the crowd nodded, agreeing with Avery. She continued, taking a deep breath, "I wanted to add - you are so deserving of love. You are easy to love too, and I hope that you are surrounded by people that make you feel that way. I know that this is just a mock ceremony, but I truly believe you would be such a great addition to us. I know you don't trust us, but I hope that soon you will find that you have a safe place here. Even if you never come back here again. This is your home now, and forever will be."

My chest heaved suddenly, tears welling up in my eyes. What the fuck is happening right now? Why was I crying at what she said? Sure, it was sweet and kind, but... how did she know I needed to hear that?

I turned my head, wiping the tears before anyone could see them fall. The crowd clapped as Avery left, going back to her seat.

The last couple people were a blur, my mind still hanging onto Avery's words. Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. I gazed up, seeing Colby's beautiful face staring down at me.

"The ceremony is done. Now, time to party."

~~~~~~

It had been a couple hours since the ceremony, my body feeling almost numb but jittery all at the same time. It was hard to shake all the love and words that were thrown my way today. Sure, some were probably just lying and saying random things because they had to, because they were conditioned to. But it freaked me out how some just... hit the right spots, knew my insecurities.

The party itself was fine. Two of the houses had parties happening in them, and since all three houses were connected, you could leave one and walk into another. There was a dancefloor full of people, and multiple fully stocked bars. Tons of food was at each table. It honestly looked like an adult prom. But I wasn't in a partying mood. Trey, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. Girls and guys surrounded him, laughing at his jokes and bringing him plates of food and wine. One girl kept rubbing his thigh, staring at him longingly.

I wanted to leave. I had had enough of today, and I just wanted to be as far away from Empathic Love as I could be. I decided fresh air was what I needed, so I got up and slid out the back door of one of the houses, taking a deep breath. There were still too many people around, but I noticed the last house, the one with Colby's office in it, had no lights on and no one around it. I walked through the yards, stopping once I was by the back porch of the third house.

I sighed, leaning back against a railing. I could still hear the party going on, almost getting louder now that I wasn't there. I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed.

“Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Colby's voice broke through my thoughts.

I exhaled. “Hi, Colby.”

He cocked his head, “Are you doing okay? You seem... upset.”

I felt this sudden rush of anger, knowing in reality he was to blame for all of this. “No, I'm not doing alright. I want to go home, I'm extremely overwhelmed by this party and all the people around here. That ceremony was too much for me to deal with, and the only way for me to get out of here is Trey and he's getting rubbed down by your followers!”

He took a step back, putting his hands up defensively. “Woah, that was a lot. You must have needed that release.”

I glared, “You think?”

“Look, I get it. It's a lot to take in. I myself don't love going to all these parties. It can be really overwhelming and if I'm honest, it gives me a lot of anxiety,” he admitted casually.

“You get anxiety?” I scoffed, “How? Everyone here loves you.”

“I know. That's the stressful part!” He sat on the railing, turning to me. “I'm the leader of this family. I have to make all the right decisions, and sometimes that means upsetting some of the people closest to me. Not to mention, so many eyes are on me, and it's just all too much sometimes. Even if you think this group is a cult, I still care for everyone here. I make sure they are fed, have a job, and have a life outside of here. And that's a lot to take on.”

“How do you deal with all of it, then?” I questioned.

“Patience. And a lot of alone time when I can get it - through meditation, specifically,” he laughed. “I was actually going to go meditate before I found you. Would you like to join me?”

I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”

“Are you sure? Look, at the very least, it will get you away from the party and all the noise. You don't even have to join me, you can just... sit in the room with me while I do it.” He argued, shrugging his shoulders.

I gazed at the party, everyone had grew rowdier while we were talking, and I didn't even notice. But my head felt like it was spinning from the noise alone. I sighed, nodding my head. Colby smiled, opening the door to the house, and I walked in first. I followed him up to his office, sitting down on his couch as he sat in the center of the room on the floor.

I raised an eyebrow. “That's where you meditate?”

“Yeah, I know it's a bit silly. But I feel so much more grounded... on the ground.” He replied cheekily.

I snickered, sitting back and watching him. He crossed his legs, resting his palms on his knees. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took multiple breaths until they were low and shallow. I furrowed my brow, my eyes never leaving his form.

It almost seemed like he was asleep, or in a hypnosis of some sort. He was completely still and silent. A dull glow appeared at the top of his head, growing brighter and larger. I leaned away from him, my eyes widening at the sight. What the fuck is that...?

An aura grew around him, surrounding him completely. He didn't move, unfazed by it. His eyes remained closed, and with each breath it grew.

"How... are you doing that?" I uttered, my mouth a gape.

"Doing what?" He spoke in a monotone voice.

"That... aura. How are you doing that?" I pressed.

“I've always been able to do it since I was young. You can get closer if you want to.” He suggested.

How did he know I was still far away?

I stepped off the couch, moving closer to him. I kept my distance, but the aura was almost pulling me in. It was beautiful, the light reflecting and growing bigger. I was almost engulfed by it, but it stopped right before getting to me. I could feel its warmth, its energy. It was calling to me, beckoning me to step towards it.

The aura wrapped around me, filling me with light and love. Or at least that's what it felt like. I gasped at the sensation, my legs shaking underneath me. I breathed in deeply, my lungs filling up with fresh air. I didn't feel like I was in the room anymore. I felt like I was flying, the world almost zooming around me.

“Let your body relax, Y/N. I know it's so much to take in.” Colby’s calming voice spoke.

I felt my body give out on me, falling onto the soft rug. I laid down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Visions began to swirl in my mind and around me.

How is any of this happening?

He answered, reading my mind. “Because of me. Because of us. Because of the connection you and I share.”

My body felt very heavy, unable to move even if I wanted to. I could move my eyes, and out of the corner of them, I saw Colby stand up. The aura remained around us, almost engulfing the entire room.

“You know, I knew the moment you stepped foot on to the compound's grounds, you were going to like it here. You were going to stay.” He smiled sincerely, gazing down at my body.

I blinked, confused. “What? I-I don't plan to-“

He cut me off, “This is the final step, Y/N. Everyone gave you love, people celebrated you, and now... I'm allowing you in.”

I wanted to shake my head, but couldn’t. “But I don't want to join.”

He chuckled, “Yes you do. If you didn't want it, none of this would have worked on you. You wouldn't be seeing what is directly in front of your eyes.”

The visions morphed around me, suddenly showing Colby and I. But we weren't us, we were different people, at a different point in time. But I could feel it was us. We were in love, growing a family together. Our lives were beautiful.

What the fuck is this?

“That is our past, or present, or future,” he winked. “The thing is, Y/N, I never seek out anyone. They all seem to find me.”

“That's not true, you emailed my boss about being interviewed.” I remarked.

"Oh, you are so forgetful, Y/N. You emailed us, begging to interview me and anyone else that said yes. I only agreed because I knew you wanted to meet with me. You sounded very eager to join in your email." Colby pulled out a piece of paper, reading from it happily, "Dear whoever reads this, I'm hoping to score an interview with your group, Empathic Love, for an article I am writing. I would love to meet Colby, and really pick apart his brain on why he created said group. Maybe I could even join if you guys win me over. Please let me know if any of this sounds of interest to you. Sincerely, Y/N of Global Gazette."

He leaned down, staring into my eyes mischievously, "Now does that sound like someone that didn't want to be here?"

My heart raced, suddenly scared. “Why don't I remember writing that?”

“I couldn't tell you. All I know is you wanted to be here. And there's a reason for it.” He sat down on the ground next to me. I wanted to get up and run, but my body stayed still, heavy. “Growing up, I realized very early on that certain people just... gravitated to me. A lot of women, yes. But really it was anyone. And not only did they gravitate towards me, they became obsessed with me. At first, I was confused, uninterested in ever going through that. Who wants someone obsessed with them? But then I realized how much good I could do with so many people rallying behind me.”

He continued, “As I got older, my ability, or power, or whatever it is - grew twice as strong. Suddenly, all the people around me followed me, did anything and everything I could ask for. Then, I began getting visions, and I understood why this was the case. Everyone here: we had a past life together. Their souls and mine have always been connected. They find me and then continue to stay. And almost always, they fall in love with me. It's just so glorious.”

“You're insane.” I mumbled.

He hummed, “Interesting, especially since you’re seeing the same things I am.”

It was true. The whole time he spoke, I saw vision after vision of our past lives together. We were always destined to meet, destined to be with one another.

“But the thing is, I know you're different from all the rest. You and I, we are meant to be together forever. You are meant to love me forever, and I am meant to love you. That's why my abilities affect you so greatly.” Colby divulged.

“What if I say no? What if I want to leave?” I grunted, trying to shake free.

“You've had the ability to go all this time. You just don't want to. You know how much love I can give you. You know how much pleasure I can give you as well.” He bit his lip, his eyes snaking up and down my body, “You've known that since yesterday, haven't you?”

Blood rushed to my cheeks, memories of yesterday played in my head.

“And do you know what’s crazy about that? That's not even half the pleasure I can give you.” Colby kneeled next to me, a devilish smile on his lips. His hand lightly brushed my face, cupping my warm cheek sweetly.

A burst of arousal raced through me, my body spasming in ecstasy. “Oh my God!”

“I know, it's a lot to take in. But I just want to make you feel good, darling. You deserve it.” He leaned in slowly, “You are mine, after all.”

"This is what your followers meant by a deep and sensual mental connection," I groaned, feeling hands all over my body, touching me in the most lustful of ways. "You got inside their heads and mentally fucked them."

“...That's one way of wording it. But if they didn't trust me, if they didn't already want me, it wouldn't happen.” He winced playfully, “So in reality, it's your fault.”

“Fuck you.” I growled.

“But baby, that's what's happening,” Colby laughed darkly. “Those hands, those kisses and bites... that's all mine. I can tell you're losing it. You want me real bad, but you don't want to admit it. I get it, you’re overwhelmed.”

I felt like my body was getting electrocuted with pleasure. My hips grinded into the air, needing some form of relief. My nipples strained against my bra, wanting any form of touch. I closed my eyes tightly, embarrassment rolling through me as I felt my damp panties against my sex.

Fuck, he was right. I did want this, and him.

I didn't even need to say it out loud. Suddenly I felt a cock slid inside of me, too easily from how wet I had become. I ripped my eyes open, looking around. Colby was watching me from his chair, smirking.

He palmed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Imagine how much better it would be if I was actually inside of you, filling you up with every. fucking. inch.”

I thought about screaming Trey’s name. Maybe he could help me.

He grimaced, rolling his eyes. “He won’t do anything for you, sweetheart. He joined our group just a couple weeks ago. Right around the time you sent the email. So really, you have all the more reason to join us.”

“Even if I join this cult, I will never stay here. I will leave here and never come back.” I hissed.

“And that is your choice to make. But Y/N,” his gaze lowered at me, his eyes intense. “You will never be satisfied. You got barely a taste of what I can offer you, and you're gonna want it forever. Just like everyone else here.”

“You're a- fuuuuuucckk!” I moaned, the cock inside of me hitting my spot deeper. I caught my breath, glaring at him. “Y-You're a freak.”

“Says the girl almost coming to my invisible dick.” He spat, clenching his jaw.

I bit my lip, annoyed at how right he was. The hands exploring my body gripped my ass, slapping it lustfully.

“Okay, okay. I'll agree with you. I am a bit of a freak of nature. But let's not act like I'm some monster. I let people leave. But they always come back because they choose to. I can't force people that far. Pinky promise,” He stuck his pinky out, and I rolled my eyes defiantly. He huffed, “It's not like this place is Scientology, for Christ's sake. We are love. I am love.”

“You are the most tainted form of love that I've ever met.” I retorted, gripping the rug to hide my building arousal.

He deadpanned, “Ow. That hurt.”

Colby strutted over to me, laying down right beside me. The pleasure grew more intense, my hips bucking desperately. His one hand hovered over me, never touching me. It didn't matter, because having him this close felt like his whole body was on top of mine, fucking me hastily.

“If you allow yourself to enjoy this feeling, you might actually come. Because I won't force you to. I'll just keep you here, for hours, riving in pleasure until your brain melts into goo.” He smirked, “How's that sound?”

"I-I hate you." I gritted my teeth. Why did I feel like I was lying?

"No you don't. But soon you'll be able to admit the truth." He leaned his mouth in close, his voice low and sincere, "I know that this place might not be what you imagined your home to be like, but it is. You will always have a place here. You will always be loved here. And I know that's what you want deep down. To be loved unconditionally. To have every fiber of your being satisfied. And if you let me, I will do that. I will please you every night, however you want me to. But for me to do that, you have to let me in. You have to let love in."

The cock inside of me pounded faster and faster. I could barely think anymore. The only thing on my mind... was him. The lives we had together, the life we could be having. I knew I shouldn't want it, but I did. I wanted him in my life, forever. He was what was missing, and I couldn't live one more day without him.

I mewled loudly, my hips thrusting up erotically. Colby's hand cupped my face gently, turning my head to look him in the eyes.

His alluring eyes stared deep into mine, his jaw clenched. "You will always be mine. I am love, and that is all you could ask for."

"You are love, and that's all I could ask for." I repeated mindlessly, grabbing onto his arm desperately.

His face softened, “That's right baby. You're such a good girl for me. My good girl, forever. You want that, don't you?”

“Yessss, please Colby. I want to be yours forever.” I keened.

"You will be. I promise, you will always be mine." His eyes darkened, the pupils almost completely blown out. "You will never leave."

"I won't!" I trembled, my orgasm building closer and closer to the edge.

“You wanna come, Y/N? Get close for me. Don't I feel so good inside of you? You like when I do this?” Colby's hand snaked down my body, rubbing my clit sensually.

I begged wantonly, dying to come. "Pleaseeeeee! Please let me come! I need it! I need you."

"Of course you do, baby. You and I need each other. Our connection is unlike anyone else's. Tell me the truth and I'll let you come." He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear, "Tell me, baby. Say it..."

"I love you," I cried out, right on the edge. I direly wanted him to say it back, knowing it was already the truth.

“I love you too, baby,” he smiled sweetly, kissing my cheek. “Now, come for me.”

Hot, white pleasure shot through my body. I had the strongest orgasm of my life, my mind shattering as I rode every wave of pleasure that went through me. Colby stayed by my side, shushing me as my high lowered down more and more. He kept whispering 'I love you' repeatedly, my mind unable to hear or think anything else after a while.

I blacked out at some point but awoke when my body was lifted off the floor and placed softly into a bed. “Wha... happenin?” I slurred.

“Relax, darling. I just brought you to my bed. Well, our bed now,” he chuckled. “I want you to get your rest because tomorrow is a big day for you.”

“What's tomorrow?” I murmured.

“Your introduction to everyone as my soulmate.” Colby informed happily, tucking me in. “Everyone will be so pleased that you changed your mind about joining us.”

I nodded my head, snuggling deep into his bed. He dimmed the lights, whispering softly, "Welcome home, Y/N."

[mlbigbang]

2023 Adrinette Fic Rec List

It’s the end of the year which means it’s finally time for the ML Big Bang’s yearly fic rec lists! We’re really excited to bring you our contributors’ favourite fics started this year to supply you with plenty of reading material while you’re waiting for the Big Bang fics’ publication in January.

Fate, Destiny... A Hamster by @mostmagical

After finally moving into his very first apartment per Ladybug’s suggestion, Adrien discovers something no movie or TV show could have ever prepared him for: someone else's hamster. Marinette was so excited to have her first pet. If only it would stop escaping! At least now there’s an excuse to talk to the new neighbor. (Adrinette Never Met AU)

This fic is peak adrinette identity shenanigans! Adrien and Marinette star as the next door neighbors losing and finding the titular hamster, falling in love, and avoiding an identity reveal like the plague.

If I Let Myself Love You by @uptoolateart

It’s hard to be a normal girl with a normal life when your mother has terminal cancer. And when fashion model Adrien Agreste moves back to Paris and wants to be Marinette’s friend – or maybe even more – her life is turned upside down again. How can she risk opening her heart to love when her whole world is falling apart? Especially when Adrien is hiding a dark secret of his own…. - COMPLETE FIC – updates on Sundays *** No kwamis AU - 100% Adrinette. About half of it is fluffy and half heavy. Please read tags for trigger warnings. ***

It is such an incredible balance of beautiful, heart-wrenching and funny! I adored the relationship between Adrien and Marinette, how it developed throughout, how natural it was, how they both helped each other through their grief. Just beautiful.

hearth by @asukiess

Because how do you describe a dream once you wake up, when it’s fleeting and slipping through the cracks in your mind like it’s a sieve? You can barely wrap your lips around the concepts and words before you realize it has slipped through like water, and what lay in your hands is just a pang in your chest? When every moment away from it clouds your mind just a little more, until the memories are threadbare? or: Adrien understands what it means to have a home.

call it even by @sha-nwa & @anna-scribbles

After a year of dating, there is one thing Marinette knows for certain: it's her and Adrien against the world. Through it all, Adrien is kind, patient, and endlessly understanding—even as she tries her best to keep her secret superhero identity hidden from him along with the rest of the world. Nothing could ruin it, not even the supervillains of Paris: Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. (adrinette dating // ladynoir enemies au)

A really well-written Adrienette fic featuring Ladynoir as enemies.

All the Missing Pieces by @uptoolateart

At 14, Adrien stepped into the time burrow and saw the truth no one could have guessed. When he came out, he was changed forever. And after defeating his father, he was finally free...or was he? At 37, Adrien has everything he ever dreamed of – married to Marinette, three kids, the hamster – but none of it has turned out as expected. Marinette’s career is such a success that she’s never home, Hugo is an angsty difficult teenager, and Adrien is still struggling with his secret identity as a sentimonster. And now, Lila Rossi is back after more than 20 years. But has time changed her? Or is she up to her old tricks?

It's my actual life (except I'm not good looking lol), and I vouch for how WILDLY accurate its treatment of the emotional issues of stay-at-home-dad stuff. I just cannot recommend highly enough how it handles jealousy, isolation, parenting struggles, etc. Not me in the comments every chapter telling the author how she got the feels so perfectly right.

If I Let Myself Love You by @uptoolateart

It’s hard to be a normal girl with a normal life when your mother has terminal cancer. And when fashion model Adrien Agreste moves back to Paris and wants to be Marinette’s friend – or maybe even more – her life is turned upside down again. How can she risk opening her heart to love when her whole world is falling apart? Especially when Adrien is hiding a dark secret of his own…

So absolutely sweet. So emotionally devastating. Gets meta by taking advantage of how AO3 works at one point. Next level in every way. I loved the developing Adrienette friendship. I loved Marinette and her father. I loved Marinette's feelings about her sick mother. Please everyone read this fic your face will melt with emotion, and you weren't really using your face, were you?

Our Tales are Endless (That's Why I Tell Them) by joonapeach

Marinette lives a simple life - one surrounded by pretty dresses, fresh macaroons, and the calming view of Paris. It's a life she thinks she has always fit in. And yet sometimes, when a certain boy comes by her shop with a flower and a new adventurous story, she can't help but wonder if there's something else she's missing.

you don't even know me at all (but i was made for loving you) by @ladyofthenoodle

They didn’t remember each other. The hospital told them there’d been an accident—brain damage—but Alya had told them the truth, later. Who’d they’d been to each other. What they’d given up, and why. But even with their memories of each other gone, Adrien and Marinette are still inextricably tied together—by law, by their social circles, and by their hearts. And in the apartment they share, there's only one bed.

If you like amnesia AUs, angst with a happy ending, married adrinette, and only one bed scenarios, you need to read this fic! It's beautifully bittersweet and will break your heart before putting it back together.

[autistichalsin]

I'm going to go off here just because I'm so frustrated.

So this drama all started when someone- a self-identified anti- posted a rant that I "wrote Halsin rape fantasy fiction." I was annoyed, as anyone would be, but even more because such a fiction didn't exist! But also, it sounded like a great fic, Halsin using a rape fantasy/consensual nonconsent to work through his Underdark traumas. So I said "you know what, I can't let the fake version of me you invented be cooler than the real me, can I?" And then I set to work plotting out Too Many Burdens to Bear, which would take about another month to be ready to post after that.

The group were angry at this, and soon after, they started a callout, cancelled me, harassed me, whatever word you want to use for this nonsense. They couldn't keep their story straight, from the start. Some of them claimed it was the simple fact that the fic was CNC that was wrong. Others, who were okay with CNC themselves but still wanted to have a reason to hate me, said my fic WASN'T CNC, and obviously that was the problem, it would be different "if" it was just CNC. (Then, when they were corrected, they....... never changed their tune.) Another said I was planning to write a fic about "Halsin being raped again" and had said "getting raped would help Halsin heal from his traumas."

It's like they're playing a game of telephone, but instead of changing a single word, the goal is to change the entire sentence.

Others insisted the problem was that I wrote it to "spite" the person who "only said they were uncomfortable with rape" (lol, then don't read it, you fucking dumbass!!!) I got told I was retraumatizing myself and others, that I didn't care about/fetishized rape, etc. They have since gone on to claim I posted the fic untagged, hoping to trigger the anti who started this.

These are the tags on the fic in question, which they would know if they bothered to LOOK at what they were criticizing.

Could this possibly be ANY better tagged? I even had someone who is squicked by PIV sex reach out to thank me because no one EVER warns for that. That's how above and beyond I went in avoiding squicking anyone.

Like, literally everything this group claimed about my actions being problematic falls apart with the most cursory check at the ACTUALITY of what has been posted.

And these people, who claim care SO much about rape, who care SO MUCH about survivors? Yesterday, Mish made a post about Neil (as in, Astarion's actor) getting sexually harassed, and one of these people replied that it was "hypocritical" to say so while supporting me, who writes CNC. When someone replied that this was about a real human, not fiction, they literally said they DIDN'T CARE. They care more about defending the honor of Halsin, a fictional survivor of rape, than they care about the real person who played Astarion, who is a REAL survivor of rape.

When Mish and I said we are both survivors of rape and sexual abuse, respectively, these people said we were "playing the survivor card" (an utterly vile thing to say). I received an anon questioning whether I was really sexually abused.

They also, at the same time as the initial bout of drama over my CNC fic, began calling me a pedophile because of an omegaverse Halsin headcanon I made. For those unaware, omegaverse is an AU with many related tropes. Which ones get used vary by the author, but they always include heats and animalistic behavior, and often include knotting, mpreg, themes of subjugation based on gender, breeding kink, and others. However, while the trope started as a kink one, it has since branched out, and some write fics without smut at all, instead focusing on gender dynamics, kidfic, or other aspects of the universe.

I made a headcanon that Halsin, who in that universe I headcanon as an omega- who, in omegaverse stories, can get pregnant, and have heats- would want children of his own. I headcanoned that after taking care of children at his commune after the ending, that this might trigger a heat for him.

A normal person would look at this and go "aw, Halsin has baby fever! Cute!"

These are not normal people, so they looked at it and went "ewww, this pedo thinks Halsin gets turned on by being around kids!"

They literally said this. While also admitting that they do not read omegaverse stories. Multiple people who do read them tried to explain that it's just how reproduction works in that AU, but this person just stuck their fingers in their ears and yelled "lalala HEATS ARE HORNY IF YOU WRITE HEATS IT'S ONLY TO BE HORNY HORNY HORNY! NOT LISTENING!"

After they accused me of being a pedophile for this, I fired back and said "if you can look at this headcanon and think it has anything to do with attraction to children, you're the pedophile." I should not have called them one back, and I apologize for it, but this person has since gone on to lie and play the victim, saying "I just said their tweet was a bit sus and they called me a pedophile FOR NO REASON." They also said that they "wouldn't have been so quick to call it pedo if [I] wasn't so open about being a proshipper."

If I wasn't so open about saying that fiction is not morality, you wouldn't have been so quick to say that my fiction represented my morality? Hmmm.

If you notice, their posts all have the same formulaic deception and manipulative slant to them: they will say something about the fiction I write/enjoy, or the characters I don't like, etc, with a personal attack against my character. When I respond, they will then claim to have been attacked, violently and without provocation, "just because" they (x), where (x) is the most blatant glossing over of their actions. Them calling me a pedophile became "just saying their tweet was sus." Them harassing me for weeks over a CNC fic that HADN'T EVEN BEEN WRITTEN YET was "just saying we aren't comfortable with rape." So uncomfortable with rape, remember, that they said they DIDN'T CARE about Neil being harassed, because CNC about Halsin was worse.

You would think these two things alone would be enough to utterly destroy this group's credibility; they are either blatant liars, or their perception of reality is so poor that nothing they say is to be trusted. Anyone who prioritizes a fictional character's rape over a real person's is not living in reality. Anyone who thinks baby fever is pedophilia should not be trusted on, well, anything. It would be like trusting a flat-earther to give geography lessons.

But unfortunately, people wanted to listen to them over Mish and I, and sadly, it's easy to see why. The antis positioned themselves so that if you disagreed with their harassment, you were "pro rape". And no one wants a label that toxic associated with them, so they jumped ship on principle. Even though Mish is the nicest person in the entire fandom and has never hurt anyone at all, even though Mish is an IRL advocate for rape survivors and against gender-based violence in her country and has thus done more for rape survivors than these people ever have or will. It doesn't matter to them.

Other equally bizarre accusations have been lobbed at us; I'm "lesbophobic" and "called all lesbians TERFs" (I called the rhetoric from a group of like five people TERF-ish, but since they think they represent all lesbians, they claimed it was against all lesbians- WHICH, by the way, is my identity as well. They are calling me a self-hating lesbian over this.)

This group has a history of starting harassment against people, then cry-bullying that the pushback they get is a form of lesbophoia; for example, a few months ago, they harassed a bi woman off of Twitter who asked them to stop being biphobic by calling it gross to ship Shadowheart, a canonically bisexual woman, with men. They branded this user lesbophobic and harassed her until she permanently deactivated. They posted that it was gross to ship Karlach with Dammon, too, and when a user, who is herself lesbian, headcanons Karlach as a lesbian, and doesn't ship her with Dammon chimed in to say why OTHERS ship it, they attacked her too. They attacked the actor for Rolan for sharing/supporting a fan petition for Rolan to be romanceable. They called Dave, Halsin's actor, a creep for sharing NSFW art of Halsin on his page, and tried to insinuate he was a pedophile (saying they wouldn't be surprised if he had a scandal like "that Genshin actor," who, for those who don't know, was found to have groomed a child online.)

They claimed that I "called everyone who doesn't like Halsin ableist", when what was actually said was that IF we call everyone who doesn't like Minthara lesbophobic because a lot of her fans are lesbians (which is a thing that one of them had just said), THEN using the same logic, we could say that hating Halsin is ableist because a lot of his fans are autistic. (Sidenote: this group of people repeatedly mocked my special interest (making meta essays) after being told it was my special interest, which is pretty gross, to me.)

It genuinely boggles my mind that a group of people can be so toxic to the actors and still given a platform in the fandom. This is entirely new behavior to me- even in the most toxic fandom's I've been in or rubbernecked on, harassing the actors was always considered the line not to cross and would make you persona non grata. It was the one thing everyone could agree on as unacceptable. Yet these people are openly attacking Dave's character and are still not only listened to when they make up allegations against people, but they are well-respected in the fandom. Either people don't think harassing an actor is a big deal anymore, these fans secretly AGREE with the harassment and slander against him, or (most generous explanation) they don't know who they're actually supporting here.

These people gleefully mocked my abuse from my mother. I said that some of Minthara's abusive actions (poisoning a romanced player without her consent) reminded me of similar actions my mom did, and are part of my aversion to the character. I posted this untagged- I even censored Minthara's name so that her fans wouldn't find it. But because they were cyberstalking me so obsessively, they QRTed it and proceeded to bring it up multiple times to snark about "the essential oils". When someone called them out and asked if they really thought it was funny, they answered, without hesitation, yes. They said that I had already "mocked my own abuse" by bringing up how Minthara triggers memories of her, so they therefore had every right to laugh at the bodily harm I faced when my mother would deliberately cause me asthma attacks by forcing me to inhale essential oils. Because I said that a fictional character's similar actions triggered memories of it. That was worthy of mocking to them.

So they support survivors of rape and abuse who have triggers related to fiction, unless that survivor is a survivor of child abuse who is triggered by their favorite character, in which case they deserve to be mocked. I guess they don't believe in supporting survivors who have trigger reactions to fiction after all... what a surprise. Almost like they never cared about anything they claimed to.

They're actually remarkably transparent about not actually caring about ANY issue they claim to champion. They claim to be fighting for rape survivors while harassing not one but two survivors from the fandom into mental breakdowns (the tweet about my mom was so bad it made me have a flashback, and their harassment of Mish did similar to her) and saying they DON'T CARE about Neil's sexual harassment because fiction about Halsin is more important. They claim to oppose lesbophobia while repeatedly attacking lesbians who disagree with them on anything from shipping to whether queer male sexuality is inherently predatory. I could go on.

Somehow, no matter how blatant it is that they don't actually care about anything, and are just using fake moralizing as a vehicle for sadism, people still keep taking them at face value. Again, I get it. They have positioned themselves as fighting against rape and abuse, so by extension, they have positioned it so that anyone who is against them is liable to be accused of supporting rape and abuse. It's a great system for them, really; bullying is a behavior that would otherwise be reviled, but by framing everyone they don't like as a bad person, as an existential threat to marginalized communities (who, conveniently, always have their own marginalized identities ignored until it becomes convenient to bring it up again to harass them for it), they turn their bullying into not only something acceptable, but into a moral act to be commended. A moral obligation, even, because don't pedos deserve to be hunted for sport? (This is the same reason why the alt-right is obsessively pedojacketing the entire LGBT community as they move to censor queer fiction, for the record.)

I don't know what else to say besides that I really, really hope that people are waking up to that group's nonsense, or at least that they will soon, and will realize that fiction is not reality, and that that group of known disingenuous liars and manipulators are being... disingenuous liars and manipulators, yet again.

Unfortunately, it's too late since they've already chased Mish out of the fandom, and I will honestly never forgive that group of people and their enablers for it. But I have hope that maybe the rest of the fandom will come around, especially because, as all of us who have experience with antis know, they are never going to stop. They aren't going to stop targeting people for everything from making a harmless mod that turns Scratch into Astarion to saying it's okay to ship Karlach/Dammon or Shadowheart/men to writing a fic about Halsin using kink to explore his trauma from being enslaved to being an actor for the show who retweets NSFW art of his character to making a headcanon that Astarion wants to dance with Tav to making an omegaverse headcanon... I could go on and on.

Sorry for the novel, and I hope this is the last post I make about this drama, but I am so beyond tired and frustrated. This hurt Mish deeply- the nicest person in the entire fandom- and seeing the raw sadism from her bullies, sadism that is being praised, makes me feel physically ill, honestly.

I won't be using any fandom tags for this post, but I will be tagging this with various proship related things since I feel this is relevant.

[shadowkoo]

Chasing Clouds - Prologue

→ Summary: Namjoon made the decision early on in his training that he would abstain from dating or entering any form of relationship while in active duty. He’s determined not to burden anyone with the likelihood of being to be notified of his death or causing pain to someone he loves by his long absence. Ironically, he found himself drawn to you, a doctor who challenges his beliefs and contradicts everything he upholds.

↠ namjoon x f.reader | 1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: military au, angst (future chapters include: doctor au, s2l, slow burn, smut, fluff, romance

→ Warnings: Read at your own risk! war, ptsd, bombs, guns, violence, injury, death, blood, (future warnings include: murder, use of other weapons, smut warnings)

→ Author Note: my favorite kdrama of all time is descendants of the sun and in honor of my fifth rewatch, I wanted to write this series! it takes place about a year after the show ends, just so you know the timeline :) i would recommend that you watch it first, but it’s not a requirement - it just gives insight to some of the character's personalities (plus i’ll take any opportunity to tell people to watch it lol)

Prologue

MAY 02 - 0340 - USTANA

The darkness of the night feels heavy; its weight is unsettling as the soldiers start their most recent assignment. Namjoon has an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. It’s twisting and turning like never before. He isn’t usually nervous before missions; he hasn’t had a reason to be. He's always followed through and completed his tasks without issue; which is one of the main reasons everyone has such high hopes for him.

Tonight is different though, and he knows the others have the same odd feeling as they all take off their dog tags and set them aside. If captured, they need to remain anonymous.

"You guys know the drill. Once we locate the hostage, everyone will need to be attentive because it'll only be a matter of time until the whole building knows it's been breached. This isn't another exercise boys, lives are at stake here,” Big Boss, Captain Yoo Shijin, says to his team of special force soldiers.

"As this is the last mission of your training term, I expect nothing but excellence in your delivery of the hostage. We've orchestrated the specifics of this mission in such a way that will prove whether or not you are cut for these types of diplomatic high-profile assignments," Wolf, Big Bosses best friend Seo Daeyoung, adds.

"Whatever you do, don't compromise the mission. Don’t use your birth name to communicate, use the nicknames you were given, as well as ours," Big Boss hollers, finishing off their short speech as the back door of the aircraft opened.

Ustana, the country they’re secretly entering, is known for its drug and weapons problem due to its corrupt government. If things end badly, it will reflect on Korea. That’s why the team’s identities and nationalities can’t be known.

The plane jolts, narrowly missing the projectile that was aimed at the steel bird in the sky, solidifying the seriousness of the current situation below.

Namjoon repeats his orders to keep some level of sanity and peace of mind as he descended from the sky with the rest of the Puppy Pack, the soldiers in training to join the Alpha Team.

‘Find the hostage. Mislead the enemy. Return home. Stay alive.’

Once on the ground, he waits for the signal to ambush the guards watching the doors and proceeds to lead the group. Shijin and Daeyoung follow behind with the rest of the soldiers at their feet.

Daeyoung nods, giving Namjoon the go-ahead to align his gun on the enemy. This is the part he often tunes out. You need to be able to turn the switch, as he calls it, on and off with this kind of job.

He aligns his scope with the target and quickly pulls the trigger before moving to the others nearby before they even realize what’s happening. He watches as their bodies drop, waiting to see if anyone else runs into the room, but it’s quiet. Almost too quiet…

"Wildcat, All clear,” he says into his mic, letting the others know their access point is now safe for entry.

‘Find the hostage. Mislead the enemy. Return home. Stay alive.’

It takes less than two minutes for the group of highly trained soldiers to find the hostage. He’s badly beaten and unconscious, his body hunched over in the chair he’s tied to.

Wolf keeps watch by the side door while the team works on releasing the man. Jihoon, another one of the Puppy Pack trainees, helps Namjoon carry the man back to where the transport aircraft is waiting.

“I don’t want to jinx anything, but that was almost too easy…” Jihoon says, looking at Namjoon.

He agrees. Something’s not adding up…

He peers through the open door of the transport helicopter, gazing outside. They’re waiting for the last of the group to make their way onto the craft, and he just wants to ensure that everyone is safe. His shoulders relax when he can see their dark forms exiting the building.

Namjoon turns to look back at Jihoon, “I see them, they’re-” his sentence ends unfinished.

“What is that?” he says, taking a step closer to the unconscious hostage that Jihoon and a combat medic are helping. He points out the red blinking light on the man’s neck. It’s not a laser from a gun. It’s coming from inside his skin. ‘It’s almost as if…’ His thought trails off. “Run!” he screams, though it’s too late.

The bomb’s detonation rips through the helicopter, unleashing an intense burst of energy. In an instant, the searing shockwave propels fragments of debris outward. The air vibrates with a deafening roar, drowning out all other sounds.

The chaotic energy tears apart surroundings and scatters the remnants in all directions. A plume of smoke and fire billows upward, consuming everything in its path. The impact leaves a scene of devastation, marked by shattered glass, twisted metal, and a sense of raw destruction.

Namjoon feels the force of the explosion in his chest and is thrown far from his comrade, and debris crashes around him. His head bounces against the ground, and the ringing in his ears is so intense, he believes he will never hear again.

Jihoon is several feet away. His eyes are frozen open, and blood trails down his face from the head injury he suffers from. Namjoon reaches for his lifeless friend but it’s all too much.

Then, everything fades to black.

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©shadowkoo 2023. All rights reserved.

[ambrosialdesire]

cacoëthes

[ PART ONE ] [ PART TWO ] [ PART THREE ]

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 reiner x fem!reader word count: 6.7k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, stalking, kidnapping mention, vomit mentions (nonsexual cause), gore/violence, slight misogyny, kinda aot spoilers if you haven't watched it before, all characters are 18+ synopsis: reiner has always kept his eyes on you ever since the two of you were still trainees. he's sorry for many things that he's done in his cursed life but he was never sorry for loving you. you loved him as only a friend and perhaps family, but your relationship with the bulky blond is not everything what it seems on the surface. not to him at least. a/n: tbh i just thought of this up as i reminisced on old middle school memories recently, i was a big s1 aot fan back in the day and just got back into it bc of one of my friends. i recently got a mad crush on reiner that i didn't have before and that same friend is dealing with the brunt of it lol this might be ooc since i haven't written any aot characters in years + they have slightly different personalities from back then. if this gets enough support (likes and reblogs), the second part will be posted as soon as possible! even if it doesn't, i'm still gonna be posting it anyways part one is just like a recap of reiner and the reader's relationship, there's nothing sexual in this part until the other parts. note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

Reiner shouldn't be looking at you.

He should've stopped years ago, this could've all been prevented if he had just pulled his eyes away. Hell, he should've just kept his attention on Krista — no that's not her name now, what was it, Historia? — but he respected Ymir's wishes of betrothing her despite... everything that had happened to the girl. But he didn't and now he was in this hellish predicament.

You were born and raised in Paradis. Titans have destroyed most of humanity and the remnants of them have been living in the walls ever since; that's all you knew compared to the Marley-born warrior. He wished he could be as naïve as the devils that resided in this small island, it would be better to only know that you were the only lifeforms that lived decent lives hiding away from the Titans outside of the walls.

No, he shouldn't be calling you a devil. Fuck, he shouldn't be calling any of what-once-was his friends devils but he couldn't just erase the years of history that has been embedded into his head ever since he could comprehend language. At the same time, they have never done any evils towards him before he revealed the true identities of his group.

He loved his Paradisian friends — he wished he could say that in front of their faces without feeling so much melancholy shame and guilt — he loved serving for his country, he loved his family. But most importantly, he loves you.

It was an accidental captivation from a single hand-to-hand combat training session, where the 104th trainees were once unaware of the kind of future ahead of them. You were unfairly set against Reiner, Instructor Shadis even knew that but still made you two spar. You were shorter than him — most Paradis people were — and weaker, not just because you were a girl. He didn't notice you back then, there was nothing that the man thought at a first glance was interesting about you.

Nothing at all.

You were barely any threat despite being a devil, a lowly sheep in the den of a vicious lion.

You put your arms up in a defensive position anyways, shifting the weight on your feet. Your small fists were balled up tightly, as if you were going to actually do some damage with them. You knew that you couldn't beat him in pure strength but you readied yourself regardless, eyes glinting in determination. He held up his fists, a small yet confident smirk growing on his face. This was going to be a simple win.

"Don't go easy on me Braun."

"I have no intentions to L/N."

He remembered how quickly you dashed towards him, not fast enough that it rivals Annie's or Mikasa's speed, but fast enough for him to be caught off guard for a good second. He watched you bend down low, trying to get a low sweep on him. He had enough training back home to know how to avoid this kind of attack. Reiner jumped back, believing to have narrowly missed your foot and prepared himself to counter-attack.

But he could have never expected being tackled by the leg down, his back colliding into the dirt. All the air escaped his lungs as he felt you scramble to pin him down, a large grin plastered on your face.

"Aw Braun, I appreciate you going easy on me but really? I expected a big guy like you to try harder."

He bit back his tongue from saying anything in reply, watching you stand and dust off your uniform, still wearing that proud smirk. As he finally managed to collect his bearings, he asked you a question.

"Where'd you learn that move?"

"Leonhart." As to be expected of the Female Titan inheritor but he didn't expect her giving out sparring tips to anyone, especially Paradisians. You outstretched your hand towards him, waiting for him to take it.

"Y'know anything else from her?" He questioned, grabbing your hand as you lifted him up.

You pondered a bit, exaggerating your expression as you pretended to think about it, and finally answered him.

"Maybe, but I'll only reveal them to you if you actually put more effort into our sparring. I'm not a frail little girl y'know."

Reiner heftily laughed as you slapped his arm, walking away to resume your defensive stance. The two of you continued to spar, both of you counting down individual wins; it came down to a score of fifteen-ten, he won the whole thing but that didn't seem to falter your smile. You were simply ecstatic that he didn't supposedly pull back his punches, though he did quietly fret over the bruises that bloomed overnight on your face and arms the next day.

Bertolt noticed his staring problem immediately a few weeks after. Rather than looking at Krista per usual and daydreaming about marrying her, he was looking at you chowing down your meal next to Connie and Sasha. He whispered to him that what he's doing should cease immediately but he insisted that it would not interfere with their original mission. You were an enigma that he wanted to solve, that's all.

He swore to him that he had good intentions — that he was truly observing the kinds of enemies they were facing — but now he's not quite sure that they even stayed good to begin with.

Through his many inconspicuous observations, Reiner had found out that nothing seemed to pull that grin down on your face. Whether it be the instructors yelling out insults and commands, the rain pelting down on them during group training, or when it seemed like a rough day for every trainee, the smile you bore never faltered. It was somewhat confusing to him. How could you be so cheerful in this kind of world?

You preferred to hum during chores, the song never being the same each time he honed in from listening in on you. He gave up trying to memorize anything you hummed after the fifth one or so. He then noticed that on occasion when no one was around, you'd pick up the dandelions that grew in the small patches of grass of the camp, braiding them into small rings and wearing them until they fell apart. Reiner managed to pocket one when you accidentally dropped it, not noticing that it was gone. His good luck charm, as he liked to call it.

You liked to help others before focusing on yourself, taking on other people’s chores or taking the blame for things that weren't originally your fault. Reiner thought you were being too nice for your own good. You didn’t fit the type of person that was being used to other people’s advantages but you never seemed to mind.

You weren’t quite the evil Eldian he believed you to be, rather he considered you a fallen angel amongst the devils, led astray from the path you were presumed to take. Perhaps he can make you repent like he was trying to do back home, there was proof that you were worthy to be considered a Marleyan.

And that was the start of it, he knew he should've stopped there once he started to believe you’d be a perfect fit for Marley.

All this constant watching and being everywhere that you were at. Watching your every move and reaction. Taking things of yours that he shouldn't be taking.

Reiner was starting to believe that you were more than what you were leading on, his heart already knowing where his stance was on the subject.

Marriage didn’t seem bad, tying you down to him with a pretty golden band and children… wait, no. The two of you were still young and you were most definitely his enemy… right? But further down in the future… yeah, there's a possibility. A slim one, but one nonetheless.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

You had begun to take notice of Reiner's staring. There was always such a strange feeling of being watched and you finally had the guts to look around, seeing your old sparring partner just... there. Watching. It was always awkward whenever the two of you accidentally locked eyes, you having to be the first one that breaks contact. Reiner wasn’t a bad guy — from what you knew — but the way he just gazes at you, it gave you the creeps.

You asked Krista once if he seemed off, overhearing whispers among the other trainees of him liking her. Not that you were big on eavesdropping, you simply couldn't help it. She said that there was nothing wrong, maybe he’s just daydreaming and it just happens to be that he’s looking directly at you.

Bullshit, you had once bitterly thought. You wanted to tell him off but Bertolt managed to always drag him away before you could really confront him, so you eventually had forgotten about it.

But there was one thing that you couldn't forget when his friend pulled him away. It was the quick yet intense glare he bore when he glanced back at you. You had nothing against the guy, he may always be skittish, but you never felt like he was a bad person either.

So why did he have to look at you like that?

"Why did you decide to join?"

You jumped, almost tipping the bucket of water you had in your hands. Turning around, you squinted your eyes in the torch-lit night, slowly meeting the gaze of Reiner. Ah, so he finally decided to talk to you.

"A hello first would've been nice. Besides, why do you want to know Braun?" You questioned, placing the water-filled pail down so you wouldn't accidentally spill it on yourself or him.

"Guess you could say it's plain ol' curiosity L/N."

Pulling your lips in a thin line, you zipped it shut with your fingers and shook your head. You weren’t close to the man, hell, the only time you actually spoke to him was the sparring session. Why was he suddenly so interested in you?

“So you won’t say anything about it?” He frowned, putting one of his hands in his pants pocket.

“You have a plethora of answers from the others of what it could be. I could’ve been one of the survivors of the Colossal Titan’s attack. Maybe I’m just looking to join the Military Police for that comfortable life. Perhaps I could be a vengeful orphan just because my family attempted and failed to take back the wall. Whatever the answer could be, it’s all the same for each recruit.” You picked your bucket back up, feeling the liquid slosh around against your arms.

“Is that all you wanted to ask me because I have to take this water back to the kitchen for breakfast tomorrow.”

“No there’s something else,” He moved closer to you, a certain aura emitting as he approached closer. Reiner didn’t seem the type to hurt others without any reason. Even though you didn’t know him, you were acutely aware of his big brother-like personality with the other trainees. “If you could run away from all this, would you?”

“…What?” Confusion muddled your mind and you began to bite the inside of your cheek nervously.

“I’ll repeat it for you. If you could run away from all this, would you?” He asked again and you began to think. All you ever knew was the walls, anything outside of it was just a dangerous hellscape.

“Not really, there’s nothing out there for me. I have my friends and life is good here despite Wall Maria being currently swarmed. What am I even running from anyways Braun, the Titans? There’s just gonna be more out there anyways.” You then started walking in the direction of the dining hall, carefully making sure it wasn’t gonna spill on you.

“What if there was? Imagine an island with no Titans and life is even better there than here. No walls hiding you away from the land, just complete freedom.” You stopped, directing your head towards him. Why did he keep insisting upon the idea of this question? This was the only place in the world where humanity still thrives.

“I would still have to decline, it’ll still be no home of mine. I’d like to someday see the world without Titans but I’d probably be long gone by the time they’re all exterminated. Now goodnight Braun.” You finally walked away, feeling suddenly exhausted. Where was Bertolt when you needed him? Reiner was starting to scare you.

You left the man behind with a mess of thoughts in his head. Reiner did not agree with your mentality nor your standpoint in the matter, but that could change once he and his group bring you to Marley. Once you get there, you’ll see how life is much better than in Paradis. He brushed a quick thumb against a dried petal in his uniform pocket, the material cracking under his touch.

You have no other choice but to like Marley.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Never in your life have you thought your whole world could tip upside down again.

In a span of a few days after graduation, Wall Rose had become the same as Wall Maria, the Colossal Titan making its horrid and grand reappearance. The Trost District was a mass gravesite, there weren't enough words to describe your devastation of the lost lives of people you had considered as family. The heavy guilt that washed over you made you believe that if you were just a little more stronger and more decisive with your attacks, you could've — no — you would've saved them.

You threw up off the rooftop, the taste of bitter bile leaving a stain in your mouth. The stench of blood and ash wafted in all directions and it felt like you couldn't get any sicker. The images of your fellow companions getting wailing for help while getting ripped apart limb from limb and eaten alive was enough to keep you dizzy and nauseous.

Your tank was irrevocably damaged and you made the quick decision to isolate yourself to the nearest building as soon as possible before it sputtered out its last remnants, your body colliding into the red tiles.

You wanted to cry. It feels just like years ago but this time, you felt even more powerless than you were when you were a child. Even though you learned the ability to fight these oversized cannibals, you never felt so goddamn weak when dealing with the real thing. What good were you if you weren't able to use your gear?

This is where I die, you had bitterly decided. You let out a light pitiful laugh and knelt down, wiping away the tears that fell. Life was a cruel thing, wasn't it? No matter what, the moment you decided to join the regime was the same day that you would be contracting your life to an early demise. No matter what, you would die.

No matter what. No matter what. No matter what.

Not far from you, earth-shaking thuds grew near and a shadow began to cover over your shaking form. Closing your eyes with a nervous grin, you began to welcome in your godforsaken fate.

If you were unable to save your friends, what more humanity?

"L/N!" God? Was that you?

A splash of warm blood drenched the skin of your face, steam fanning off. The noticeable sound of hissing affirmed that someone sliced the nape of the Titan that was ready to consume you, their boots grinding against the tiles.

"You damn idiot! What do you think you're doing sitting there?!"

You peered through teary eyes, meeting a familiar hazel pair. Your shaky smile quivered downwards, a broken cry slipping out of your mouth as you finally realized that there was someone else alive.

Reiner was surprised, you were a considerably tough person and he believed that nothing could ever break your resilience. You tried to explain yourself to him like a kid that just got in trouble, blubbering out how weak you are and how you couldn't save your squad. It's not like you can look him in the eyes now, you know how disappointed he'd look at you. The girl that was known to be all happy-go-lucky in the 104th Training Corps.

The more you thought about it, the more you ended up breaking down into a complete sobbing mess, hiccupping the words sorry over and over again as you pulled your knees into your chest. Your tears darkened the white cloth of your uniform as you wept, the blood continuing to steam off of your face.

He rested his hand on your shoulder, seeing you cry almost made him regret putting his plan in motion. However, in order for them to retrieve the Founding Titan, they have to do this. There was no other choice in the matter.

"That's enough Y/N. You did your best with what you had. No one was expecting Colossal to come back like this, the least you could do now is honor your fellow fallen soldiers. Ensure that they didn't die for nothing. Don't die like a coward and stand up."

You sniffled as you picked your head up from your knees, wiping off the snot and tears with your jacket sleeve. As much as you didn't want to get up, he was right. How could you face your deceased comrades in the afterlife if you just let yourself die now? How selfish of you to let your life be taken away so easily when they fought so hard in order to fend off the Titans from coming any closer to the escaping civilians.

"My ODM gear broke, the gas cylinder got pierced by a rock I think." You mumbled quietly, voice sore.

"I'll carry you to the others then, we made a discovery in order to get into HQ to replace our supplies. A few of us with enough gas went out to find the unaccounted. I'm glad I found you before that Titan got to you."

The real truth was that Reiner had been panicking ever since he saw that you weren't with the other groups. He was terrified with the idea that he fucked up, the plan being the cause of your death. It was his proposal to locate the missing soldiers, making it seem like he genuinely cared about his fellow recruits. He didn't know what he would've done if he found your rotting corpse, knowing that it was completely his fault.

A miscalculation. A misstep. A mistake.

He put away his blades in its sheaths and lifted you up into his arms, making sure you were secured to him as much as possible. The positioning was awkward due to your gear still being strapped onto your body but it seemed that he didn't mind. You knew already that he was a strong man but for him to just lift you up like nothing even with your gear and his combined, you wondered if he still held back when the two of you sparred. Perhaps you were a little grateful that he did, not ending up with a broken bone at the end of it.

Unbeknownst to you, the man was screaming on the inside as he carefully maneuvered through buildings and rooftops. You closed your eyes each time he made abrupt turns and jumps, pulling yourself closer to his chest. He decided that he liked holding you, there will no longer be a day where he won't have his hands on you. He finally reached the others, seeing that the Abnormal Titan was still beating down the other Titans that were getting in its way and trying to consume it.

"What is that?"

He let you down slowly, the warmth escaping him as you were hypnotized from the scene in front of you. Unlike the other Titans you've seen so far, this Titan was strangely well built and its teeth lined the outside of its mouth. Of course you knew about Abnormals but this one was odd looking and it was unheard of for Titans fighting other Titans. Then again, the walls never broke down before and the only explorers of the outside were the Survey Corps.

"Our ticket into HQ. Look how it's drawing all the attention to itself." Reiner was right yet again. As this Abnormal was punching heads off and screaming, it seemed that the Titans were more interested in it rather than the humans inside. He picked you up once more, telling you to prepare yourself and crashed through the headquarters' window, making sure that none of the glass got on you. The others were relieved that he made it back with another teammate safely, and Armin began to explain the plan to rid of the seven remaining Titans on the inside.

You were put to be one of the gunslingers in the lift, the heavy weight of the rifle causing you to shift it around in your hands. Were you able to look one of these monsters in the eye and manage to incapacitate it?

“Stay back Y/N.”

“Excuse me?” Reiner put his hand on your shoulder once more, shaking his head. Looks like that was going to be a habit now.

“You don’t have to be in the lift, we have enough people already in there.” You scoffed quietly, pushing past him to line yourself up with the others. You broke down once in front of him and now he wants to be your protector. Sure, it was nice of him to be worried about your safety but you trusted him and the others that they'll do their part of the plan without any issues.

“I've made the decision that I'm not going to be a coward Reiner,” He watched you step in and face him, giving him a small smile with a thumbs-up. “And I’m sure as hell not going down as one.”

The lift started its slow descent down and you settled in position, your finger nervously tracing around the trigger. None of you could shoot too early or too late, these guns were difficult to reload and it would lead all of you into an early grave. The heavy tension in the air could be cut with one of the blades and the group in the lift was shuffling around lightly. It would be a lie to say that none of you weren't scared, no one wants to die knowing they're going to be eaten alive.

The lift stopped, the air deathly still. Everyone clicked into position, guns pointed and drawn. Quiet, shaky breathing was the only thing that you heard besides the ground shaking stomps of the giants, their attention landing towards the group.

Someone behind you gasped in surprise as a Titan looked in his vicinity, the voice of Marco telling him to calm down and continue to wait until they were closer. Another person was shaking besides you, her hands unsteady on her weapon and her face pale. Sweat was beginning to accumulate on your forehead and it felt difficult to breathe suddenly.

You looked up with your open eye quickly, seeing Reiner up in the posts with the others. Taking in a deep breath, a burst of confidence ran through your body.

"Ready..." Your finger hovered over the trigger, a giant blue eye staring at you. One more step, just a little closer.

"Fire!" At the sound of Marco's command, you pulled the trigger and shot. The timing of the other soldiers' shots were inconsistent, the sounds of gunfire were deafening, and the smell of gunpowder wafted in the air. Either way, the Titans' eyes were incapacitated and the seven above can finish the job.

Your heart sank as two of them did not falter like the rest, watching Connie fall into the ground and Sasha look up in horror. They didn't cut deep enough and the Titans' eyes had already regenerated from the shots. It wasn't easy trying to kill them without their gear, horror sinking in as the Titans lumbered towards them. Your stomach twisted in knots as one jumped towards her as she apologetically screamed at it and Connie was helplessly backed into a pillar from the other. No one in the lift could do anything to assist them.

You fumbled with your rifle, reaching in your pocket for any more rounds. Luckily, the two most proficient fighters managed to finish them off before anyone else could react and you felt sweet relief as the lift was safely lowered down. Hopefully this would be the last and only time that you'd face a Titan that close without ODM gear. You picked up a new tank and replaced the broken one with it, beginning to stock up on your supplies.

"You alright?" Speak of the devil, here he was once again. You turned your head towards Reiner as he sat down next to you, refilling his tanks.

" 'M fine. You did good out there."

"I could say the same with you, must've been nerve-wracking seeing those things look at you that close."

"Yeah, but you had to jump down without using any of your gear while trying to hit their napes. That's way more difficult than what we did in the lift." He lightly chuckled and dismissively shrugged, saying that it was nothing but he did get nervous with Connie and Sasha. You agreed to that statement, you liked those two and they've always humored you during dinnertime. The two of you sat quietly afterwards until he started to talk again, trying to break the silence.

"Y'know you said my name earlier, not Braun but Reiner." Your cheeks flushed warm, switching the refill to your other tank.

"You did that too, back when you saved me." You attempted to lead him away from what you said, nervously biting your cheek.

"Why did you say it?" Reiner completely ignored you, insisting upon his question more.

"I could say the same to you."

"I only said your last name because you said mine like that when we first met, thought it would be even that way. So Y/N, why did you say my name?" Fuck, he had a point.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat and you sighed, pulling your lips in a line.

"I don't really know. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue in the heat of the moment or I just wanted to say your name for the first time. Just in case anything happened or something..."

Your voice trailed off to a quiet mumble, your face reddening and hot. You didn't mean for it to sound that it was insinuating something, you genuinely appreciated him saving your ass back there and getting your morale back up. It was simply a newfound gain of respect for him. Taking a peek at his expression, you saw that his mouth was slightly agape and he turned his face away from you. Was your response that surprising?!

Embarrassed, you finished refilling your tank and started strapping your gear back on. You apologized quickly, fumbling with your words and speed-walking away to get fresh blade replacements.

'Marriage, marriage, marriage, marriage.' Reiner's thoughts quickly ran through his head, his own cheeks crimson even though he had a firm expression as he watched you walk away. He hoped that you would continue to say his first name, you will have to once he weds you in Marley. But he wouldn't mind if they were replaced with dear or honey, oh he would not mind at all.

Events took a turn once you got out of HQ. It was found out that the Abnormal Titan that was killing off the Titans was Eren Jaeger. Ironic that the vengeful and overtly loud mouthed guy that swore to kill all Titans turned out to be a Titan himself. Though there were many complications — and many lives taken — in trying to complete this mission that Commander Pixis set, Eren managed to seal off the hole in Trost.

Two days later, the more experienced soldiers killed off the remainders and you were set for clean-up of bodies and body parts that littered the streets. It was a heart-wrenching task seeing limbs and partially eaten corpses of both citizen and soldier, most being completely unrecognizable. They were once part of a family. They were sons, daughters, siblings, maybe even parents themselves. Wherever they are now, you hope that they're at peace.

You tugged your cloth mask up more as you looked around for more corpses, walking around until you saw Jean stand still from afar. He was looking at a body, your own eyes widening as you slowly recognized whom it was. Marco Bodt. The guy that commanded the group to shoot a few days prior; if you remembered correctly, he was one of Jean's close friends during training.

You felt sorry for him, he had just found and lost his best friend simultaneously. Not even a minute ago, he was asking around if anyone had seen him, voice desperate for a reassuring answer. This world was so cruel to the ones that didn't deserve it, all of you were just trying to live comfortable lives but it'll never be that way. You turned away from the scene and went off to find another unaccounted for.

What a shame, a damn shame.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

You chose to go into the Survey Corps rather than the Garrison, mostly because you wanted to continue to fight those terrifying beasts in order to avenge the lost lives of your friends during the Battle of Trost. It would give you some kind of peace of mind knowing that you wouldn't hide away from the fight for them. After everything settled down, you befriended Reiner once you were able to catch him alone.

He was... different when you started talking to him more, you couldn't completely tell what it was but there was a feeling you had that he wasn't quite all there. He began to space out on some occasions, coming back down and acting quite odd, as if he was an entirely different person. The invasion was pretty traumatizing for everyone involved so you couldn't blame him for any mental change in his mind. You knew that you weren't definitely the same either, half of your friends had been decimated and nearly witnessing all of them die would never settle right in your mind.

Reiner had become pretty overbearing when it came to you, believing it was because of how you acted in Trost. He started hovering a lot, becoming a burden over your shoulders. He made sure that whatever you do didn't hurt you and if it did seem like a danger, he'd immediately take over. He'd say that he's just thinking about your safety, he'll handle it for you and to not worry, he prefers to do things for others. You could believe that part, you knew Reiner was the altruistic type but it was pretty aggravating when it was a constant all the time.

And just like Bertolt, he never left your side. Sometimes you'd be forced to hang out with the two of them and you didn't really mind, you got to know Bertolt more than the nervous guy he was known to be (plus he had finally stopped glaring at you weirdly). But you could only talk to Bertolt, any other male soldier you could only share short conversations with because Reiner would drag you away from them.

You weren't his lover, you mentioned to him once in a fit, you can freely talk to anyone you want and he has no say in who you could talk to.

You never were able to see the look in his eyes when you said that to him, stomping away angrily past confused scouts. This was one of the fights you had with him, ignoring him for a while until he apologized with how he acted but it would just repeat in a more inconspicuous way. Eventually, you just let him win because nothing you said about it stuck.

He'd handle you like you were fragile glassware and you despised it, you weren't a weak person, you were a damn Survey Corps soldier just like him. You were more than capable of defending and attacking, but for some reason, he still insists and insists that he can do it for you.

There is no reason someone like you should be doing things like this, that alone made you furious. He'd only leave you alone when you were put on cleaning duty or cooking. You wondered if he was like those kinds of people when it came to women but he wasn't like that to the other girls in the Corps, just you.

And yet, despite all these annoyances of his, you still considered Reiner a comforting friend. He'd listen to your rambles of mindless things and give you advice about them, trying to understand where you're coming from. He'd mostly call you a babbling idiot though but would say something stupid in return, which you always called him out for. You'd argue back and forth with smiles on your faces.

When you felt like you were in a slump, he'd pat your shoulder and then talk until you felt better. Or if that didn't work, then he'd tell you to put them up and the two of you would jokingly fight, letting you wrestle him down until your stomach hurt from laughing and the punching. He was most certainly like a big brother, dearly reminding you of your siblings.

You even started giving Reiner your special dandelion rings, seeing him wear them around his left ring finger. Did he know the meaning of that? He had to, he was old enough and his parents must've worn rings around him. You wanted to point it out to him but you'd chicken out, scared that you were gonna insinuate something that wasn't supposed to be interpreted that way.

The two of you were only friends, that was it. That was it, until the moments that led up to the day that you found out that Reiner and Bertolt were never who they really said they were.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Annie was found to be the Female Titan that killed many of the Corps members during the 57th Expedition, you never had expected her of all people to be a Titan shifter like Eren and a traitor.

For the first time in your friendship, Reiner hugged you. You didn't expect it, thinking that he was simply afraid that you were one of the bodies left behind and was only relieved that you were alive. The height difference between the two of you was quite a bit, he had leaned down and nestled his face into your neck, arms wrapped around you tightly. He was a toasty kind of warm, similar to sitting next to a fire during the winter.

You told him that everything will be alright now that the threat has been neutralized. He mumbled that he was afraid of losing you too, your heart skipping a beat. In response, you tried to ease his mind by promising him that you would never leave his side anytime soon. There was no possibility that you were a shifter like Annie and Eren, absolutely no way.

He was quiet for a moment, finally lifted his head out of the crook of your neck, his eyes intensely staring into yours before softening up. There was a newfound determination that you could faintly see before he pulled away, thanking you for consoling him.

It was odd, like a switch went off in his head.

The final incident came after the capture of Annie, when a handful of soldiers were presumed to be one of her accomplices and put outside of Wall Rose in an abandoned mansion. You weren't a suspect but Reiner and Bertolt were, and the worry started setting in. There wasn't a doubt in mind that you had for them, you could never see them as traitors to humanity.

Reiner did his duties all the time and he was a diligent soldier, he was also a good friend to all other members. Bertolt, though cowardly and needed a push in the right direction sometimes, has always been devoted as a soldier; he did graduate behind Reiner in third place after all.

There was a sudden breach in Wall Rose despite it being completely known to be sealed on the inside. Everyone assumed that another hole had been formed in another place by the Colossal in secret, so squadrons were sent out to scour the area to locate the breach. You were concerned that the suspected group that was contained in the area at the time of the breach had been attacked, anxiety racking your mind.

You overheard some of the soldiers that came from the search mention that there was no hole, saying that whoever saw the Titans must be going crazy.

That wasn't right. The witness reports said that Titans were definitely seen in the interior, they couldn't be wrong. Titans were quite hard to miss, they were quite literally large human things. It was inexplicable but you didn't focus much on it, being told to assist the incoming citizens before searching for the contained group.

You couldn't rack your mind in how many twists and turns you've been through throughout the years, but the Survey Corps finally found the group in a torn apart abandoned castle surrounded by a few more Titans. Ymir was revealed to be another Titan shifter — was anyone else here a Titan shifter because it seemed to be never-ending — but she had seemingly no intent to hurt the others as she saved the group she was with from death.

You found out that Reiner got bit from a Titan, retrieving the injury from pushing one out of the castle through a window. You were half astounded and half terrified with the new knowledge that he was way stronger than you anticipated. You thanked Krista — now actually known as Historia — for taking care of Reiner's injury, scolding him after for putting himself in reckless danger like that.

Assisting the injured on top of Wall Rose, you sighed in exhaustion as you sat next to Ymir's sleeping form with Historia. The past few months have been hectic as ever, did the soldiers before you deal with things like this? Five years ago and beyond that, there were no such thing as shifters or breaches in the walls. It would simply be incomprehensible back then that such a thing would’ve existed.

You turned your head in the direction of Reiner and Bertolt who were occupied with speaking to Eren. You weren't able to hear what they were saying until Reiner started to raise his voice, scrunching your eyebrows together.

Something was off. He was rambling, looking like he had completely lost it. Bertolt looked horrified, Eren was nervously laughing. Reiner... what was he talking about?

Mikasa suddenly slashed at the two, cutting Reiner's hand off and slitting Bertolt's neck. You almost screamed in shock, shooting up onto your feet until steam came off of them, an all too familiar occurrence that only happened to… Titans.

Sudden bright flashes of lights blinded you and lit up the wall with a threatening intensity, hot steam nearly blew you off your feet before you quickly latched yourself onto the wall with your gear. To your horror, the Colossal and Armored Titan formed right in front of your eyes and everything you had once known about them shattered to bits.

Reiner had grabbed ahold of Eren as he fell off the wall and Bertolt's monstrous half remained on top, hand reaching towards Ymir. The shock of seeing the monster that destroyed your home years ago was really your friend in disguise caused you to freeze up the second he grabbed her.

You thought you could trust them, you had high hopes that they weren't bad people like how the higher-ups thought they were. They were liars, they lied to everyone and they broke your trust, more so yours with Reiner. He was terrible, truly terrible.

You snapped back to reality as his gigantic hand wrapped around you — the still-passed out girl in his other fist — a scream ripping out of your throat. You struggled and banged your fists against the burning hot flesh of his hand, beginning to beg for Bertolt to not consume you. It fell on deaf ears as he opened his mouth, your eyes wide with horror.

The last thought you had as you and Ymir were dropped in was that you'd never forgive them for this, you'll never forget what they have done.

[eyelessfaces]

penitence

poe dameron x reader

summary: you killed a pregnant woman that tried to kill you. guilt invades you after the adrenaline goes away.

warnings: obvious mentions of death, injuries, blood, self defense kill - not detailed just mentioned, pregnancy, guilt, trauma. please don't read if any of this triggers you!!!!!!!

tags: uhh obvious angst lol. gn!reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, poe doesn't really know what to do to make reader feel better but it's okay because he's trying to help and he's doing his best and he's sweet anyways<3

word count: 0.9k

why does that gif look so small on mobile

Poe hopped out of his X-wing, his knees feeling the shock of his leap. He hastily took his helmet off and put it at the feet of his ship, putting his stuff back in place being the least of his concerns at the moment. 

Your ship was there on the tarmac, but there were no signs of you around; and Poe knew there wouldn’t be when he saw your distraught look before you jumped into your X-wing and took off. No one had seen you since, and Poe figured you didn’t want to see anyone, but he needed to see you.

That’s what had led him to look everywhere around base, asking anyone if they had seen you, brushing people off when they needed to talk to him about commander stuff. 

A sigh of relief escaped his mouth when he found you sitting on the floor of an empty briefing room after looking for you for what seemed to be so long, after looking into so many similar rooms to this one. 

“Hey” the sound came out as a soft exhale, and he cautiously walked up to you.

Your knees were brought to your chest, your gaze lost somewhere deep in your thoughts. You only noticed him once he was standing in front of you, and he knelt down to your level once you acknowledged his presence. He took your bruised, dirt smudged hand in his and softly brushed the safe parts, avoiding your bleeding knuckles. He noticed there was dried blood under your nails when your grip tightened around his own hand.

He looked up at you, brushing away the strands of hair falling over your injured face with his free hand, your gaze avoiding his. You wouldn’t look at him, you felt too ashamed to do that.

“Hey” he called again. “Are you okay?” he asked, trying to catch your gaze.

“How can I possibly be okay, Poe” you questioned rhetorically, finally looking at him.

“I know, I meant–” he wiped your nosebleed off with his sleeve, smudging the blood above your mouth. At least it stopped leaking. “Physically.”

“Think my nose’s broken” you muttered weakly, looking away from him.

“Sweetheart you need to go to medbay” he declared, putting his hand over your shoulder.

You bit your busted lip and frantically shook your head, tears teasing your eyes. You refused to leave this room, you refused to have anyone see you after what you did, even Poe’s gaze felt too heavy on you, and the maker knew how much you trusted Poe and the fact that he would never judge you.

“I’m a monster Poe, I’m a monster” your voice betrayed you, because if you seemed numb until then, the crack in your voice exposed your obvious emotions. 

“No you’re not,” he whispered, his brows knitted together. “You did what was the only way for you to escape the situation” he tried to reason with you, but you kept on shaking your head, refusing to hear any defense for your side.

“She was pregnant Poe, she was going to have a child” you insisted, not trying to contain your tears anymore. Your whole body felt numb, your injuries felt numb, but everything inside felt too much, too vivid, too present.

“She attacked you, it was self defense” he said kneeling closer to you, his soft eyes hardening when he realized how much you blamed yourself for making a choice you didn’t even have time to think about.

“Probably had a partner that expected her to come back with their future baby. I ruined lives, I ruined a family” you cried, grabbing his hand harder.

“She tried to kill you!” he whisper shouted. “It was you or her”

“So two lives against one Poe” you declared looking up at him, and he closed his eyes and sighed, nodding a bit. “Hypothetically how would you feel if it was us? If you were the one waiting for me to come back home with our child?” you asked, tilting your head, now being the one to try to catch his gaze. You didn’t want to make him feel guilty, you just wanted him to see your vision and your side of the situation.

“Hypothetically I would feel guilty for making you go out there carrying our child”

“Maybe she didn’t have a choice” you immediately retorted. You felt the need to defend her, even if she tried to kill you. You felt like you owed her that from taking her life and her child’s.

“Maybe.” he shrugged. “We don’t know, we’ll never know” he frowned, bringing his hand up to your face to gently stroke your cheek. “Baby we’re living in a war, maybe she would have died some other way. We have no idea. All I know is that it’s done and that no matter how much you hate yourself for what you’ve done there’s no coming back.” 

Then you broke down. No more trying to bargain, no more trying to blame yourself, no more trying to defend this woman and her child. 

Tears, just tears, tears of endless guilt, tears of relief too, tears that Poe wiped away with his thumb trying to avoid the injuries on your face. 

Poe took you in his arms and you buried yourself against his chest until you only smelled him, until your vision was completely blacked out, your bruised knuckles that would normally turn white from the pressure with which you fisted his flight suit now bleeding out, the red liquid running down your hands.

Poe cradled the back of your head, shushing your cries and whispering soft words into your ear. 

You knew it would take you long to even accept the fact that you did what you did, but at least you knew Poe would always be there by your side when you have nightmares about it.

—

star wars taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @beccabecs521

[faegoddessog]

Not 'till Monday

Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, clit play, fellatio, cum swallowing, cunnilingus, snowballing (male to female), Austin taking SUCH good care of you is SO many ways.

Summary: Recovering from surgery is tough. Doing it with Austin at your side is amazing with one exception-no orgasms allowed. I mean how did the doctor expect you to NOT be turned on when Austin is caring for you? It was fine for the first bit, but as you near the end of your blackout period it gets harder and harder, especially when he's vowed to abstain as well. Monday morning could not come soon enough and that goes for the both of you.

A/N: This little one shot was inspired by a convo with @purejasmine. I basically vomited it up in 24 hours. There are wee references to my other works and yeah, I have completely self serving fantasy that he'd read my work and go... 'damn... that's hot'. LOL! Let a girl dream!!!

Enjoy! let know if you'd like to be added to my tags list!

@purejasmine @slowsweetlove @richardslady121 @austinbutlerslovers

You weren’t gonna read it, your T-besties new dirty smut,  but the line just jumped out at you and now you couldn’t stop reading and re-reading just that one line.

“Is this what you want? For me to fill you with my cock?” 

Holy. Fuck. You shouldn’t be, but you are so fucking turned on right now. The fucking buzzing and throbbing of your pussy is out of control! Fuck! It is so intense, it's no joke.  You give in and read on. When you get to the mutual orgasm part, you squirm in your seat feeling your wetness literally bubbling out. What the actual fuck!

“I can control myself” you think, literally shaking.

Your throat vibrates with a needy groan as you toss your head back. ”Stop triggering me, bro!” you assert to the ceiling. 

“Are you ok, Princess?” his concerned voice calls down the hall from your bedroom. 

“Yes, I’m fine.. Well not fine.. But I’m ok” you shake your head, sighing, texting your t-bestie to fucking stop, tongue in cheek of course. You never want her to stop. 

“What’s wrong, what’d I do Baby,” his voice is hot in your ear, just moments before his hand crosses your upper chest. 

“Nothing you did Austin, my love. She’s just at it again,” you hold up your phone to show him the latest smut. 

“Princess, you should not tempt yourself. You know the doctor said no orgasms, not until Monday. You can hold out a couple more days,” he lightly kisses your cheek and walks around to sit on the couch with you. 

“I know, I know and I’ve been really good and you’ve been amazing. But she writes you so well… plus just having you around keeps me wet all the time.” 

“MMM I know, that’s one of a long list of my favorite things about you,” he purrs at you.

Austin has been a freaking angel sent from the beyond since your surgery.  Well, longer than that. He’s cooked for you, made sure you’ve stayed on top of your pain meds, stayed up at night to hold you in his arms until you fall asleep. He’s never missed a chance to take your walks with you. Even though they’ve had to be a little slower than usual. He holds your hand and points out animals and trees and the beauty of nature. You are so in love with him, he is the best thing that ever happened in your life. He even declined a project that was supposed to be starting this month because he knew you’d need him. 

“Bah, there will be others,” he’d said when you had protested, “I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it anyway. And I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you after surgery.” 

The flip side is that everything he does just turns you on, he is like your own personal interactive pornography. You have excellent self control, something you’d had to cultivate in your previous, toxic relationship. But this was testing your limits, you were starting to have a hard time concentrating on anything.

“I love that you don’t get weirded out by reading her smut that is about you.”  You nestle into his arms.  You two frequently read her stories together, getting so turned on that you fucked like bunnies. She absolutely loved the idea that her mind fuckery got the two of you off. 

“Heck no, not when she’s given us some of the best fucking ideas… like that one about cockwarming…or the one where I dominate you and call you Pet… damn that was one hot time.” He reaches down and adjusts himself. It’s been a while for him too, he vowed no orgasms for himself in solidarity. 

“Sweetheart,” you cover his hand with your own, your pinky brushing his burgeoning bulge, “if you want to you can jerk off. You want to cum in my mouth?” You feel bad for him, and you fucking love the taste of his cum. The idea of it makes your pussy throb. 

“No, no my Princess. I made a vow and I’m sticking to it. Besides, I was once a teenaged boy, I’ve had plenty of hard-ons that I’ve not played with, and I KNOW how hot that makes you. No way.” 

 He stands up and offers both hands to help you stand up. 

“C’mon, I have a surprise for you.” 

He leads you down the hallway, through your shared bedroom and into the bathroom. The tub is filled with steaming water, the scent of lavender and chamomile drift in the air. Two glasses of sparkling water and a plate of your favorite foods sit by the side. You two bought this house in part because of the huge tub. Both of you love baths and wanted something big enough that you could share. 

Austin helps you strip naked, put your hair up, and get into the bath before stripping off his clothes. If this was supposed to help you calm down, it’s a disaster. You fucking love the sight of him. He has been working out especially hard and he is fucking ripped right now. His lats pop and the ripples of his torso are fucking gorgeous as he bends to pull his joggers off. He doesn't quite get the first leg off and hops a little, giggling. He is so adorable and sexy at the same time, quite the enigma.  

You lean forward as he slides in behind you. You feel the hardness of his cock slide down your back and nestle at the base of your spine. He wraps you in his kind, gentle, strong arms. You melt. 

“Fuck Austin, I know you meant this to help… but it’s fucking hot,” you are struggling to keep your hips still.

“You want me to run some cold water?” he says helpfully. 

You purse your lips and twist to look at him. He is smiling ear to ear, chuckling. He knows what you meant. 

“Just wait love,” he whispers in your ear, “wait and I'll give you the most mind-blowing orgasm with my mouth in a couple days.  Then I’ll cum on your tongue, but you have to promise to swallow.” As though you’d ever do anything else but swallow his seed. His cock twitches against your back, his teasing of you is turning him on too. 

“Austin, you are not actually helping.” you giggle. Giggling is the only recourse you have right now. You fucking love this teasing, love this mind fuckery. At least you know you’ll get it eventually. Get his mouth, his tongue, his fingers, his body, his cock, his cum. FUCK now YOU are not helping. 

“I’m sorry my love, here let me feed you. At least we can appease your slutty tastebuds if not your slutty pussy,” he kisses your cheek and grabs the plate. 

“My pussy isn’t slutty!” you say with mock indignation, “it’s only for you Austin. How can it be slutty?” 

“Mmm, you are right,” he reaches down to cup your pussy in his hand, but stops himself just before plunging into the water. making a fist instead 

“Your wickedly wonton pussy, then” he breathes into your ear. Dear goddess in heaven, he is not making this easy.

He proceeds to give you little tidbits of perfectly cooked bacon, rare steak with goats cheese, roasted root veggies, fruit and yogurt, perfectly ripe avacados. You suck the bits off his fingers as he feeds you. 

“My Princess needs her protein for healing,” he kept saying every time he cooked for you inthe past two weeks. He did, indeed, treat you like a princess. 

The next two days pass without incident. There are no new story updates, and Austin keeps it surprisingly G rated. Though there is an undercurrent of sexual tension throughout the house. Sunday night is like fucking Chistmas eve, the anticipation is driving you mad in the best kind of way. As you cuddle on the couch watching a film, a standard Sunday night in your joint home, his arm is draped over your shoulder. His fingers lightly stroke your collarbone. You think they are shaking slightly, as though he is a nervous teenager hoping for a gratuitous movie theater-like grope session.   Is your mind playing fuckery tricks with you? 

You hear him sigh. It’s nothing to do with the movie on the screen. You thread your fingers through his, rubbing your thumb on his palm. You can feel his eyes on you. You tilt your head up to look at his perfect face. His little dimple appears, the one that you can’t help but kiss. Now is no different. You lean up and press your lips to his. His fingers curl around yours as he deepens the kiss almost instantly. You are instantly wet, well, more so than you always are with him. Your tongues touch then caress lips. Lips are momentarily trapped by teeth, before opening to be sucked and stroked by tongues ones again. God his kisses are like fuel to your fire. Your hand drops to his chest, and you turn towards him, fully engaging in the act of kissing this perfectly amazing man. Kissing that quickly ripens into full on making out, including his hand sliding up your shirt to fondle your breasts. Movie theater grope session indeed. 

The blaze of passion that ignites in your belly is ridiculous. This is the first time you’ve really kissed like this since the surgery.  The forbidden fruit effect is full on. The fact that you can't have it, makes you want it all the more.  

‘Fuck it’, you think, your mind clouded with lust, ’what is a few less hours.’

You move to straddle him and at the same time your hand reaches to undo the button on your jeans. 

“Whoa, Princess,” his deep voice husky with desire, “not below the waist, not until tomorrow.”

“But…” your face is a mask of petulance, forehead crinkled down and lip stuck out. Your frustration is evident. 

“No, my Love, I promised I’d take care of you and that means following doctors orders. No orgasms until Monday, and four weeks still until I get to sink into your tightness,” he reaches out to pet your protruding lip with one long finger. The finger that you want rubbing your clit right now. “I’m sorry I gave in to temptation, Baby.” With both hands he tilts your head down and kisses your forehead. 

You close your eyes, breathing deep. He is right, dammit. 

Later that night, he is propped up against the headboard. You curl up in his arms, grateful for his love of a good snuggle. He opens the book he is reading out loud to you. His gorgeous baritone lulls you to sleep.

You must be in an orchard, you have to be. What else smells like vanilla and citrus? The tall grass you are walking through brushes against your naked butt. The grass reaches and gropes along your thighs, trying to get to your pussy.  It feels good, the grass caresses your ass. You realize it’s not the grass but a shining ethereal being standing next to you, hands cupping your genitals front and back. Warmth radiates from its hands and soaks into your skin. You feel an intrusion inside you, malleable and warm. A sense of peace glows in you, from the inside out and the light erupts from your sacral chakra, like water over pouring from a vase. It feels divine, like an orgasm of light. Then you feel a concentrated rubbing against your mons. You hear a moaning and realize it’s your voice. 

You come to full waking consciousness and feel Austin next to you, on his side.  The palm of his hand rubbing circles on your vulva. You realize you have been moaning and just came in your dream, or maybe here in waking life too. 

“Yeah,” you hear in your ear, “that’s it, cum for me.” You can smell the orange and vanilla on his wrist as he brushes hair away from your face.

You eyes flutter open so see Austin staring at you, biting his bottom lip, nostrils flaring. When he sees your eyes open, his mouth curves just enough to expose the dimple at the corner of his lip. That fucking dimple, it melts you. Then his mouth is on yours hard and fast, the clean taste indicating that he brushed his teeth and rinsed with mouthwash. 

His finger dips inbetween your labia, you are so fucking wet, he doens’t even need to pull wetness over your clit. It’s already bathed in your juices. You are pretty sure that you already came once, which is fantastic as you were nervous that something inside might hurt when you finally got to orgasm. 

His fingers start working their magic, circling the hood of your clit, over and over. Then switching side to side. His mouth is constantly on yours. You want to stop him and tell him you want his beautiful mouth on your pussy, but it all feels so good. Usually he would gradually get faster, but he keeps a steady pace. It’s mere minutes and your orgasm washes over you. Your body freezes,  spine jerking and your little grunts are swallowed by Ausitn’s mouth. 

“That’s my girl,” he gently pets your vulva, “How was that my love?” 

“Please, please keep going,” you pant, eyes pleading for the overstimulation that he is so freaking good at. You can’t stop your hips from pushing forward and back against his hand.

“No babe, we are gonna take it slow at first,” he smiles, eyes full of love, “don’t want anything to… burst or whatever with a crazy hard orgasm.”

“Hmmmmm” your voice whines, “can I at least have your cum, baby. I need it.”

“That I can do,” he nods imperceptibly, “C’mere sugar.”

You help him pull back the covers as you sit up,  unwrapping his gorgeously perfect naked form next to you. His cockstand is a fucking dream, thick and long lying on his chiseled stomach. Your pussy practically drips at the sight of it.  You snag the bottle of water from the bedside table and quickly drain it. 

“Get that mouth down there, I need to be wet,” his voice is grizzly with need. 

You could live off Austin’s cum. In fact you usually get it almost every day. The past two weeks have been torture, not having his milky seed in your mouth. 

Eagerly you straddle his leg, bending down. He pulls your hair, still in its sleepy bunny ears, away from your face. He fucking loves watching your mouth on him. You lick your lips, looking at his eyes as he tucks one hand behind his head for a better view.  He knows you struggle with your gag reflex and he has never asked you to go beyond your comfort zone. 

Tongue out, you lick his soft tip. He releases a shaky sigh. He has missed this too. You bring your lips together pushing saliva out between the seam with your tongue, letting it run down his cock. You push your closed mouth down, tongue flicking his tiny hole. You seal your lips over his red tip,  chasing the rivulets and sucking them back up as you pull back. You dive down again, only taking his tip. Your cheeks hollow and the sound of wet suction follows. 

“Oh my god, Princess” he breathes.

You rub your smiling lips along his tip in a figure eight, like lip balm. You love hearing his sounds of pleasure. You engulf his head again, just a little farther this time. Your tongue rubs side to side along his frenulum. You bob up and down, up and down, tongue working him, slurping on the end of his cock.  

He moans, his hand rubbing down his stomach to the inside curve of his pelvis. His thumb and forefinger catching up the root of his cock. His long middle and ring fingers falling in the crevice next to his balls. 

“Yeah, that’s it gorgeous. Get me all wet with that pretty mouth,” he croons at you. His glutes start flexing slightly,  pushing his cock up. He’s trying for all he’s worth not to fuck your mouth. 

“Princess, I gotta… I’m… I need…oh god” he moans, not able to finish any sentence. You pull back as he holds his hand out, you drip spit into his hand and he wraps that big fist around that big cock. His hips thrusting up into his hand almost violently. He is so considerate and didn't want to do that into your mouth and make you choke. Clearly the last two weeks have taken their toll on his self control. 

You love seeing him play with himself. Last summer,  you ‘caught’ him jerking off. He had thought you had left.  You’d ran back inside to get something you forgot when you heard his moan. Peeking through the door, your pussy had gotten so wet when you saw him sitting at his desk, laptop open. You had almost slipped into his office to help, but when you realized what he was watching, you were too beguiled to interrupt. It was a video you two had made. A close up of your lips around his cock, both oral and vaginal. You didn’t let him know you were there, but you watched through the sliver of the door as he stroked himself to climax. Your hand was down your pants and your finger on your wet, wet clit.  It was so fucking hot. You loved the idea of being his porn. 

Now, your pussy is again activated watching him pump himself. You realize you have lowered down to his knee and are rubbing your wet pussy on his thigh, riding him.

“Fuck, Princess. That is so hot, you are dripping down my leg,” he seethes through his clenched jaw. “GAH!” he tosses his head back, a sure sign that he is close. His hand speeds up, and stops, speeds up and stops, edging himself just a bit. His forehead is pulled down in concentration, his plush lips form a little ‘o’ as he pants.

Holy fuck, he could not be hotter in this moment. His bicep bulging,  his pecs popped, abs contracted and tight, forearm veiny with effort, thigh flexed and wet with your juices.  Your mouth is open, tongue flicking.nYour pussy lips dragging back and forth over his skin. Fuck, it feels so good. So much deprivation has made you ultra sensitive. 

“Get that greedy tongue down there, so I can cum all over it,” he puffs out. 

You tip your head down. His legs are long enough that you can still rub against him and reach his cock with your mouth. Your tongue is out ready to catch. 

“Yesssss, here it comes,” he moans. 

The warm milky cum spatters your tongue, you know how much he likes to see it hit your mouth.  He groans in appreciation. Then you are down on him, sucking lightly, not wasting a single drop. It’s so fucking hot, such an activation for you to have his cum in your mouth. You sit up and grind into his tight quads just at the insertion on the patellar tendon. It's the perfect dune of muscle to rub your clit on.  You moan around your mouthful of cum, your tongue rubbing it along the roof of your mouth. 

“That’s it Princess, get it,” his hand is still on his cock, lightly stroking himself. He is so fucking turned on with your wanton display. His other hand is on your knee, somehow wanting to help, but not wanting to interrupt your flow. 

Your pussy tightens, good lord the friction feels good. Just as you can feel yourself tipping over that brink, you let his cum slide down your throat. Your eyes roll back in your head and your pussy gushes as your hips freeze forward. Your hips and head jerk in unison, grinding your pussy down on him with each jerk. It’s nearly overstimulating… nearly. 

You fall forward onto him, ass in the air, panting, shaking. He catches you with waiting arms. 

Cradling your head on his chest. 

“You good, Princess?” there is just a touch of concern in his voice. You love how he loves you. 

You nod, slowly getting your breath under control.

“Could be better,” you look up at him with a glint in your eye. 

“Oh yeah,” he gently swipes at a creamy drop on the corner of your mouth, offering the drop to your mouth. You greedily lick it from his finger. 

“Yeah,” you say after rolling the salty tang around your mouth, “I, uh, I seem to remember a promise a certain hot fucking man made me. One of a mindblowing orgasm with his talented mouth.” You smile at him,  running a finger along  the border of his lips. Those perfect fucking lips. 

“Oh yeah, when is he getting here?” he jests, chuckling.

You purse your lips and shake your head, you love his silly goofy side.

“Austin,” you kiss his mouth then roll off him, legs wide,”get down there and make good.” 

His eyes smolder at you, he loves it when you have just a touch of command in your voice. It usually doesn't last long, as he likes being in control in the bedroom, but it turns him on nonetheless. 

“Yes Ma’am,” he nods. Catlike he flips on top of you and slides down your body. In supporting his upper body weight, his shoulders bulge and ripple. That and his ocean blue eyes never leaving yours is enough to set you off.

He wraps his arms under your upper thighs. 

He inhales the smell of you.

His eyes close and he moans in pleasure. 

His mouth opens and he drags his tongue along your lips. 

“Just nothing in, not yet” you remind him. 

The apples of his cheeks pop as he smiles up at you, “I know darling.”

His tongue rolls around under your clit, pushing between your labia. He laps your little lips into his mouth, sucking them gently. 

You moan at the sensations, god you’ve missed his mouth. 

He nestles down at the bottom of your entrance and with a flickering tongue licks your wetness up, sucking your clit lightly into his mouth at the top.

 It’s fucking amazing. 

He licks again, his bottom lip dragging after his tongue, over and over. Until he settles on top of your clit. One hand slips from your leg and you feel two fingers press, not into your vagina, but in the crevices on either side of your lips. He licks your nub with the tip of his tongue and  presses rhythmically on the legs of your clitoris from the outside, milking your pussy. It feels incredible, you had no idea that was a thing, at least not for your body. 

Your juices start to flow freely, dribbling down. He greedily licks as much of it up as he can, sucking hard on your labia. Then his mouth closes wholly over your clit and the top bits of your lips. He sucks, the tip of his tongue flickering over the hard little button. 

Oh fuck it’s good. He is good. Better than good, with his fingers working their magic. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tangled in his unruly locks. Breath flutters out his nostrils and onto your pubis. Your hips start pumping against his pretty face. You know he loves it when you just let go and let your body react. He starts groaning, his hips mimic yours, driving against the folds of the sheets under him. The fact that he is so turned on by eating your pussy is exhilarating. The vibrations of his moans send your pussy into overdrive. All of a sudden you are there; screaming, grunting, shaking under the magnificence that is Austin’s mouth. Pleasure floods your body. You writhe.  He shifts, letting go the suction and licks long, sensuous strokes along your quivering cunt. He flicks your clit at the top each time, making you shake in aftershocks, making you drip that much more. He closes his mouth wide over your pussy, sucking hard. Then, with a closed mouth he pushes up to his knees over you. His cock is rock hard and jutting out from his lean form. He is a fucking dream. He leans his head forward and dribbles a mixture of your juices and his spit onto his cock and into his hand. 

“God I miss doing that to you,” he moans.

You are panting, watching the sex god Austin stroke himself. His hooded eyes are brimming with desire and lust. 

“Touch yourself,” he commands, “I want to watch.” 

You immediately obey, your finger rubbing back and forth on your swollen clit.

“Yes, finger that clit, Princess,” it’s taking all he has not to slide into you, but he would never endanger your health like that. 

Your finger runs in circles around your clit.

“Pull your lips apart, I want to see it all,” his tone is intense, brooking no argument. 

You spread yourself for him and continue to circle your clit. Anything for Austin. He spits into his hand again, and continues to pump fiercely on his cock.

“Pull up, I want that little hood pulled back,” he is huffing, his face contorted and serious, “I want you to feel my hot cum as it hits your naked clit.” 

Oh. My. God. He has never said that, never done that. Your finger stops rubbing and pulls back your clitoral hood. The cooler air hits your exposed clit. You moan and clench. He watches as your pussy contracts, his breath hissing between his teeth. He glides hard on his cock. 

“Keep it up, don’t touch it.” His chest  expands in a deep, deep breath. His orgasmic groan begins as a rumble in his chest and blasts out his mouth in unrequited vowel sounds. Hot semen hits your vulnerable clit, it’s like fucking lightning. Your back arches and your hips shake, your orgasm is inches away. All you have to do is rub… but he told you not to. 

Suddenly and unexpectedly,  his mouth is sucking on you and hard. His tongue rubbing in his cum, back and forth over your clit. Your climax explodes over you like fireworks. You are so fucking lit.  Your spine and hips jerk, bouncing you on the bed.   He rides you down, lapping up his cum from you. Then he is over you, kissing you deeply with a mouthful of his own, sweet cum. It’s intoxicating, mind blowing, hallucinatory and nearly makes you orgasm again. You swallow every drop, curling your tongue into his mouth, desperate to get it all into you.

He pulls away shaking, having given you the same cum a second time. Clearly he found it just as electrifying. 

“Fuck that was unbearably hot, Princess,” he pants.

Your head shakes as you nod up and down, still completely aroused. You pull his fingers between your legs. 

“Rub Austin, please,” you beg. 

Austin can’t resist it when you beg like that. 

You spend the rest of the day either in bed, in the bath or in the kitchen. Austin made you cum in all of them. Orgasm Day, you’d come to call it, your own personal annual holiday.  Now, only 4 more weeks and the medical ‘ok’ until you get to feel his thick cock stretching your tight little pussy. Until then, well it’s Austin’s cum for breakfast, Austin’s cum for dinner and Austin’s cum for a midnight snack. 

[magicaldragons]

hi! been reading s&z and just wanted to know, is this going to be a long fic? if there is anything else you want to say about (not spoilers ofc) what would it be, like what did you envision the fic for? sorry just curious about the bts of the fic

and I am really excited for the fifth chapter mentioned in the tags!

hey love, thank you for asking! it's so cool that you're interested in the bts:

so, s&o started out as a drabble, which came to me shortly after i first watched – because salaar was so perfectly made for omegaverse, like it just fits in. no tailoring needed.

there were two ideas in particular that interested me:

if varadha was an omega, he never would have revealed it, he would have done everything to keep that information to himself. so, how far would he go, and how would it work? so, yes, this fic will include varadha hiding his dynamic (but obviously not from the one person he trusts with this information, the one person he trusts with himself)

if varadha and deva were soulmates, how would that manifest? because the most important part of salaar isn't that varadeva are tied together by fate. it's that they will always choose each other. so i had to stay true to that, and i wondered how it would affect the twenty five years they spent apart.

so initially, there were two scenes i had in mind:

• one of varadha's presentation (which is the fifth chapter i mention in the tags) and

• what happens in jail before the voting (can't say too much for risk of spoilers, lol)

BUT the concept snowballed and gained exposition and plotlines, so yes, to answer your question, this will be a longer fic with the way things are looking there are parts i have written that are very dark (think: would require trigger warnings) so i'm debating on whether to include them and keep this authentic and raw, or to keep them out and make this a lighter experience (though, the angst will remain), so everyone: feel free to give me suggestions regarding that

also, the concept and setup for this fic is not at all what i had planned when i first started writing, (which is why it's taking time to move the chapters around and add sections as i figure out the best way to tell this story) – that's why s&o is a fic that i will gradually release while simultaneously working on other fics, just so i can make sure i give it the time it needs without losing patience oof

which also leads me to say: as i shift sections around, chapter five may not remain chapter five, and i honestly am not entirely sure as to when it will show up, but i do hope you enjoy the fic as i update

– rey <3

[mrfilippa]

How about some aran headcanons since you're the aran guy?

~ fan-mans

Ehehehehehe!

I am a bit late, but here you are! ( trigger warnings ⚠️ insomnia, lack of hygiene and hints of negligence) I worked on this headcanons for days!!

Behaviour

Aran sleeps very bad and he usually do exercise when he cannot sleep or when he wakes up too early. That's why at the WVBA gym he doesn't do anything except messing around and pranking.

He is very loud even in a normal situation. He likes being at the centre of attention. He isn't loquacious when sick.

Also he is an energetic young man, when he sits he always moves his feet or his hands.

if he has to describe himself, Aran would say he is both cool and lucky.

People would say about him instead that is a jerk who acts cocky, BUT they admit that he doesn't step back when things get hard.

Aran has a pov of the world where only the strongest can survive and rule over the others

Aran is a "open book", it's too easy to understand what Aran thinks about you

He is one of the quickest person the WVBA staff has never met. Also his reflexes are something outside this world: when he is concentrated he can avoid stuff throwing at him.

Aran has some... Problems... With hygiene. He usually forgets to take a shower or just brush his teeth. During his childhood and adolescence, no one told him how to wash himself correctly, so when he has to do it, he does it very quickly but he misses some parts.

Since this introduction in SPO, Aran stopped to cut his hair and, in general, to go to the barber. He prefers to take care of his hair himself (that's why his hairstyle is so odd). About his "beard", he thinks that a designer stubble is more masculine than a beard.

About hair, he is the most hairy around the WVBA. Very. His hair is the source of jokes against Don Flamenco's "hair". One time Don imagined to cut Aran's hair away and made a toupee with that hair.

Of course everyone remembers his iconic line about cheeseburger: Aran literally use that line with everyone, adapting it with their traditional food. Talking about stereotypes, Aran doesn't use them to do harm.

Aran has a soft side, but only his mam knows

He doesn't care what other people think about him and his behaviour

Joking and pranking is his way to interact with people

His driver's license was suspended and he decided to ride his bike. That's why he skips leg day XD

Passions

When he does exercise, Aran is very concentrated and he usually listens to Phonk (it boosts him with confidence and adrenaline)

When he has time (always lol), Aran draws on stuff or does doodles. Everywhere. On the metro, inside a cab, on a table of a pub... No place is safe.

About that, Aran made an Instagram page dedicated to his doodles in NY and Dublin (when he goes back), in which he signs himself as Ryan. Too bad everyone understands that it's him (tagging his main profile in the comments).

Relationships

Romantically he can give the vibes of someone uninterested in love and stuff

BUT truly Aran is a sorta of loser, he doesn't know how to approach to his s/o, so he imitates what Don and Macho Man do. In a bad way, exaggerating everything, from giving numerous presents/gifts to hugging/touching his s/o. He also would brag how muscular and manly is he, and he would start to talk no stop

The only one who has the bravery to comment his behaviour is Bald Bull. Instead, Soda always supports Aran, no matter what.

his attitude changes completely when his mam is involved, from a tough fella you should never mess about to a good and softy big boy.

He becomes kinder and softer when he gets closer to his s/o too.

Usually he isn't very liked inside the WVBA, but he has some friends (mostly Major circuit/world circuit)! Normally, they hang out to the pub or walk around, maybe searching a new disco/pub or a skate park.

[hyperfixingfr]

CW for the whole torra situation 🥴 last post.

LAST POST ON THIS because some of you actually believed it when Torra flipped their shit and tried to twist everything around like a five year old who got caught taking from the cookie jar

- I did not directly call Torra a pedophile and if I somehow did I apologize. I used the word "pedophilia" to describe the creepy age gap. That is NOT calling them a pedo. That is calling the PAIRING pedophilic in nature. For someone who claims they don't want their words twisted, you sure do it a lot to other people!

- I didn't even WANT it to escalate it to a call out post/warning to the fandom. A matter of fact, I tried to avoid that by commenting on the original post questioning some things that I could've explained further had they not decided it would be completely appropriate and mature to make a whole passive aggressive POST (now deleted and rather incorrectly) dissecting my comment instead of debating it calmly with me. Every person in this fandom who has EVER had an interaction with me where I question their thoughts knows I'm never trying to work against you if it's clear you wish to learn and be educated as to how what you said made some people feel, or how it may of come off. They responded to me in a very immature way that showed they didn't want to have the debate - and the call out post went up for the vast majority of the fandom who obviously want to avoid such content.

- I never implied they were shipping the two as minors. I have tried VERY hard to acknowledge in these posts and make it clear that I know exactly what they're saying and them being "far into adulthood" doesn't change the immoral factors. "BuT tHe LaW sAyS-" the law banned abortion. I don't think you should base your morals off the law.

- Torra tried to backtrack on the whole shipping thing by claiming it was, "just a proposed dynamic" and "not even a ship" or something along those lines. Considering this is still on their profile (with underlined text to call out their lie for those who might have trouble finding it) it's really bold to try and come back like that.

Even if you don't directly ship them, obviously you proposed the idea in a positive light. THAT'S what people are mad at you for. And it shows right here that you proposed the idea to be "cute". Also while admitting you knew the gap was 4 years (possibly 5-6 if you count the gaps within lore knowledge because we can't ever know for sure unless given official information that proves it wrong!)

- Torra is 31. That is DOUBLE MY AGE. I really think it should say a lot that they've decided to blow this whole thing out of proportion since the very beginning despite me really only wanting to educate about why the romantic pairing is still immoral. The vast majority of people obviously agree with me on it, and I've even changed the opinions of two people who originally sided with Torra after explaining why it was immoral. Torra is handling this poorly, to say the least. I mean... Directly tagging my user in a post that goes absolutely HAM on me trying to back down on things and twist the situation (which didn't NEED to be a situation!) is so incredibly immature I can't even believe they would have such guts for it. I'm sorry for calling you out on something the entire fandom is uncomfortable with for moral reasons but YOU decided to hand me a passive aggressive "I stay right where I stand" response. Warning the fandom about the "dynamic proposal" you had in the tags knowing that the entire active fandom would feel uncomfortable or even TRIGGERED if they saw your post shouldn't sound crazy or bad to any normal person lol.

- some of you are gonna be peeved at me for this one but I am NOT mad at Torra (for the most part... As long as those death threats I've gotten weren't supported by them) and I'm actually hoping they get their act together and just... Own up to it. I literally wouldn't care if they just got up and said, "okay, I've educated myself and I no longer support the pairing". As much as I would have preferred they'd have done that from the start, it's not like people can't fix themselves later on. I doubt they'll wanna because they seem very grounded with their idea but I've got hope for it.

Thanks for those who've sent me best wishes since I have gotten nasty messages over it. And on that note... I hope to god none of you sent any of the sort to Torra. I get they're being immature but holy shit, there's nothing more immature than SENDING NASTY MESSAGES 😭 sit your ass down. You can write the messages onto a crusty piece of paper and burn it when you're done if you really have to. Do not send it to them or their supporters. EVER. Thanks

[llyncooljones]

call me sir - twelve days of rowaelin '22.

ao3 || masterlist || twelve days of rowaelin ‘22 masterlist

prompt: christmas activity gone wrong. series: part two to who is he? word count: 1300 trigger warnings: language, smut, sexting tag list: @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp  @fireheartwhitethorn4ever @elentiyawhitethorn @rowanaelinn @autumnbabylon @leiawritesstories @backtobl4ck  @letstakethedawn @rowaelinscourt

hi.

this is aelin. galathynius.

from the xmas fair. last week, at the weekend. and you overheard me, and i bumped into you?

Hi.

This is Rowan.

From the Christmas Fair. And I knew it was you, you’re literally the only person I’ve given my number to in the last year. Plus, I don’t know many Aelins. No need for awkward introductions—a pet peeve of mine.

well, good to know you gave me the right number, lol. was kinda worrying abt it. couldn’t believe you’d actually wanna get to know someone who was plotting an entire book to have an excuse to go up to you.

figured you might like brave girls, or some shit.

Not to be crude, but I do believe that openly, and really quite loudly, discussing the frequency and quality of dick you and your friend were getting was quite brave. As was discussing the size of my dick, and my possible friend’s dick sizes.

I don’t know anyone else who’s quite brave enough to do such a thing.

You have that going for yourself.

what i’m hearing is that you do like brave girls.

what does ‘at least you’ve got that going for yourself’ mean? i’ve got tons going for me.

No. I like girls with blonde hair, the most unique eyes I’ve ever had the pleasure of staring into, who come up to my chin. And for the record, you’ve got everything going for yourself. You are singlehandedly just everything.

Don’t go fishing for compliments. I know that you know that you’re fucking gorgeous. Don’t play games with me—I won’t play nice, nor fair.

i’ve come to realise you won't play nice or fair.

i’ve now learnt my lesson, teach.

and thank you for the compliments.

i get off on them.

If I’m going to be your teacher, and I’m going to have to teach you your lesson, you will refer to me as ‘sir’. That is, if you’re game?

I could have sworn it was big men, big hands, and big dicks you got off on. Not compliments. correct me if wrong of course.

maybe you will have to teach me my lesson. sir.

and of fucking course i’m game, didn’t you overhear me saying that i was a spoilt rich girl with a secretly traumatic past. if that means anything, sir, it means i’ve been having teacher x student fantasies since i was fifteen. sir.

i get off on all sorts of things—part of being a spoilt rich girl with a secretly traumatic past. we always have the craziest kinks. compliments and praise because my parents neglected me. similarly, some sort of teacher fetish. big men, big hands, big dicks—because we feel like they can protect us, keep us safe, complete us, which has previously never been felt by us before.

and so many more—you’ve barely scratched the surface, sir.

I can hear your evil laughter, Aelin, and I’ve never heard you laugh.

I’m always up for being your senior-year English teacher, call me Mr Whitethorn.

And trust me, I look forward to diving into the very depths of your sexual deviancy.

mr whitethorn. i like it.

you would’ve been a hit at my high school—so many spoilt rich girls with secretly traumatic pasts.

and, sir, it makes me wet when you use phrases like ‘sexual deviancy’

It gets me fucking rock hard when you call me Sir, or Mr Whitethorn. you have no idea how so.

in that case…

mr whitethorn? what’s today’s lesson on?

I think apt place to begin your education, would be with one’s own pleasure. In my experience, people put so much pressure on the idea of perfection when it comes to sex, and such acts between two people. So much so that the pleasure is slowly stripped away, and replaced with worries that won’t stop, creating a wall between yourself, and your pleasure.

Today, I’m going to focus our lesson on touch yourself, Aelin.

and what are you going to teach me, that i don’t already know? I’m in my twenties, I’ve gone to college, and i’ve been coming by my own fingers since i was fifteen. (clearly there is a correlation between teachers and me coming)

plus, and I mean this with the utmost respect, what are you—a man—going to me—a woman—about my body—a woman’s body—mr whitethorn.

If you want to doubt me, go right ahead, but know Miss Galathynius, it’s not what I can teach you, it’s what I can do to you.

I recall my language making you wet, I can’t teach you that. I can do it to you though, I can make you wet when I use long, sophisticated words, confuse you a little. Make you feel both insecure, and so very, very safe. I can manipulate your body simply with typed words.

You’d do well to remember that.

sir?

mr whitethorn?

excuse me, i’m texting you. where the fuck are you? are you fucking kidding me, right now?

Are you ready to apologise, Miss Galathynius?

for fucking what? get real.

For making assumptions about me. You seem to be under the impression that you can get away with being rude to me. You can’t, I’m unlike any teacher you’ve encountered before.

And you ‘get real’, Miss Galathynius. You can try and convince yourself that you aren’t soaking through your panties, you’re so turned on. But I know you are. You can tell yourself you aren’t going to touch yourself when you set down your phone. But I know you are.

I’ll make a deal with you, Miss Galathynius, if you message me how wet you are, and whether or not your fingers are too, I’ll continue the lesson. We’ll forget all about the fact that you swore at me no less, and that you were insolent and bratty, and you can come as many times as want during this text chain, but not afterwards.

You understand?

yes, sir.

my panties are so wet, my skirt is too.

and my fingers are fucking coated.

Take your panties off.

In fact, Miss Galathynius, get naked. Lock the door. Get comfortable. Tell me, ‘yes, Sir’ when you’re done.

yes, sir.

Put your fingers—the wet ones, before you ask—in your mouth. Fucking suck on them.

Have you got your fingers in your mouth, can you taste yourself? Fucking wish I could taste you.

yes.

what about you, sir?

You can bet your life on the fact that I’m touching myself.

That got you hotter, wetter. More desperate. Want me there, don’t you? I want you here.

im close. keep telling me what ur gonna do

You want to know what I’d do to you if I had you in my bed? I’d strip you, peel away every scrap of clothing you had on, until I could see every inch of your skin, until I can mark out every blemish with bite marks.

I’d bite your nipples, soothe them with my tongue, and then I’d bite them harder. Harder until you’re screaming, and I won’t know if it’s in pain or pleasure. Maybe I’d make them bleed. All depends on whether or not you were a good girl.

It would have got you wet, you’d be dripping all over my sheets. Your cunt would be throbbing it’d be so desperate for me. I’d treat it to a lick, lave my tongue over your clit, edging you towards your orgasm. When you’re right there I’d slide a finger in, tease you from the inside, and give you the best orgasm of your life.

And then I’d do it all over again.

holy fuck. oh fuck, i just came so hard.

fucking what?

i literally messaged you to ask if you wanted to grab a hot chocolate or something or see if you were available for a date or something. pre-dorian’s party.

And instead, you got this, huh? Regretting it, yet?

that was arguably the best orgasm i’ve ever had—and we’re in different postcodes. so, no. and i don’t think i’ll ever regret this.

And I’d love to grab a drink with you.

[dirtdotmp3]

✨⭐ i n t r o p o s t ⭐✨

basics: ★ my name is rory!! ★ 17 ★ they/them, he/him? (masc terms preferred over non-specific terms, just nothing fem) ★ japanese american !! ★ audhd + various mental illnesses + 1(one) chronic illness (so far.)

what is this blog for? ★ art/things i make in general ★ outfits and such ★ random shit that happens irl ★ tbh anything in my head that i see fit to let out of my head

interests/favorites: ★ bands: my chemical romance, pierce the veil, the front bottoms, fall out boy ★ special interests: fairy tales (specifically brothers grimm), alice in wonderland, minerals, my chemical romance ★ manga: junji ito (i have 15 books), witch hat atelier, the girl from the other side, how to treat magical beasts, toilet bound hanako kun ★ games: dont starve, minecraft, sims 4, clangen (never got into the books tho lol), everything is going to be ok, subnautica, fallout shelter ★ tv shows: adventure time, bojack horseman (havent finished), criminal minds, gravity falls, scott pilgrim takes off ★ collections: rocks and minerals, cds, junji ito, various zines, ★ random: unholyverse, edgar allan poe, dsmp (lmanburg/elections/exile, not recent as much), frank iero, just roll with it (riptide), dnd

things i make/do: ★ art !! (various kinds) ★ zines ★ patches/other clothing modification stuffs ★ kandi (still figuring out cuffs) ★ currently coding a shitty little mcr website for a class ★ ukulele !! ive been playing mildly since 6 not v good tho ★ guitar? barely tho + just started ★ occasional embroidery/knitting ★ im technically in a band but we dont have a name and the bassist hasnt touched a bass yet ★ skateboarding. my knees are so scarred from me eating shit all the time tho. fall out boy more like fall off boy. ★ i did circus (specifically aerials) for 3 years pre pandemic. i miss it !!

⚠ general warning ⚠ there are often references to/implications of sh in my collage/doodle pages. its never detailed, you probably wont see it if you dont look close. the tags will always have tws for implied or referenced sh, if theres anything more major ill put the correct tws for that. i try my best to always use content warnings/trigger warnings, if i ever miss something please let me know!!

🚫 DNI 🚫 transphobes, racists, homophobes, misogynists, bigots/fascists in general. lolita/nymphette/lana del ray stuff (coquette fine as long as its not weird).

free artsakh, free palestine, punch a nazi, drink some water, i love you<3

[picnokinesis]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Got tagged by the fantastic @wykart ahh thank you for the tag!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

32, most of which are Doctor Who!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

859,228!! (but it's gonna keep climbing until I finish posting part 6 of campervan sksk)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Pretty much just Doctor Who right now, but I have posted fics for Stargate Universe, Marvel and The Greatest Showman. And then I have written for other fandoms - most notably Venom, which I never posted anything for but I did get 40k into a multichapter one time.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In this order: Liminality, Tropospheric Disturbance, campervan part 1, watchfires and Renegades in the Ring (my TGS fic that I never finished, rip in pieces)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try and respond to comments!! Mostly because I love talking about my fics and also don't know when to shut up hahaha - but I also have some absolutely fantastic commenters who have such interesting things to say! And also like, idk I really appreciate people taking the time to comment, so I reckon it's polite to say thank you at least. The only time I don't reply to comments, mostly, is if it's a REALLY long comment and I just don't have the energy rip (but when that happens I definitely read and cherish the comment dearly haha)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh. MOST OF THEM RIP. I'm genuinely not sure because I always try and end my fics on a vaguely uplifting note. Maybe Campervan Part 4, simply because of all the uni-era angst? But tbh the ending of Part 6 is definitely a contender, now I think about it. Canon-fic wise, though.......hmm I think it's got to be notches in your spine, since that ends with the Doctor just straight up leaving the Master without warning sksksk

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hm. I think I'm gonna go with In the Wind for this one, which is hilarious since I wrote it THREE YEARS AGO, but it's a multi-chapter mid-series adventure that rounds itself off in a satisfying way, with everything being resolved nicely, so I think that's a decent contender!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Hm, no, other than people complaining about the show in an attempt to compliment my writing, but that's stopped for the most part since I got annoyed about it in my author's notes one time ksksks. I did get a weird comment recently that started out very complimentary but then turned really weird in a pretty upsetting way (and, frankly, it would have been very triggering if that sort of topic had been something that was something that affected me a lot? Luckily it wasn't, but the commenter did NOT know that). So I just deleted the comment because I didn't want that sort of thing in my comment section, especially when I know other readers comment lurk.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No I'm sex-repulsed lol

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I wrote a crossover that was The Greatest Showman crossed with the X-Men Comics one time SKSKSKSKSK (and it was specifically the comics not the films, I did so much research on historical terminology for mutants HAHA) which was actually SO much fun - I never finished it, but I do think back on it very fondly. But I'd class that as more of an 'x-men au' rather than a crossover tbh, bc it was wholly focused on the TGS characters.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't believe so

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! We never finished it LOL

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Currently spydoc, but this will probably change. I have a MASSIVE soft spot for rush/young from sgu, clintasha from the MCU, newt/hermann from PacRim, and symbrock from Venom.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Hmmmm there's a bunch, but probably The Grandfather Paradox? I genuinely love that one so much. But who knows, maybe one day. I feel like it would make a great pitch for a Big Finish audio sksk. Oh, and Deathless will probably never happen. I'm not going to put Trestle on this list because I am SO DETERMINED to finish it some day HAHAH. Oh - and I don't think I'll ever finished Trouble With Entropy, which was my unfinished Venom fic, or Renegades (aforementioned TGS fic) even though I love them a lot, it's just....very unlikely at this point rip.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Going off what other people have said to me, I'm good at creative immersive worlds! Which is mostly because I really want my stories to feel 'lived in', so to speak, and broader than what you actually see in the immediate plot. I think I'm also pretty good at pacing, and also writing narrative prose with a character voice! The latter one I definitely pushed myself with when writing part 6 of campervan, as well as my recent doctormaster oneshot, where I had to weave together both the doctor AND the master's characterisation into one seamless pov

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I definitely worry too much about making sure the reader DEFINITELY gets what I'm trying to say, and so sometimes I'm repetitive and I hammer things home a bit that can be more subtle. I also think that sometimes I can be a bit repetitive in my longer fics where I know a gap needs to be filled but I'm not sure with what sksksks. There are other things too. I definitely struggle writing shorter things and getting to the point and TRUSTING that the reader will come with me. I often feel this urge to make sure all the steps are there for the reader to follow where I want them to go.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Oooh so I actually did this in campervan part 5 with Gabriela and Jamila speaking a bit of Portuguese! And I think there's like, obviously nuance to it, but when I had the pov characters who understood portuguese (namely Jamila in the prologue), I had the dialogue in portuguese, but the translation in the prose, either literally just next to the dialogue or explained in the narration by Jamila. But then in later chapters, when Yaz is trying to talk to Gabriela, because Gabriela is upset she's occasionally saying things in Portuguese....but Yaz doesn't understand them. So they don't get translated. And so I think that works for the story in that context, bc what Gabriela actually SAYS is less important and it's more showing the emotion of it. Another case I can think of was in Force Over Distance by cleanwhiteroom who wrote a LOT of ancient into the fic (which is basically latin) and when it was on ao3 there was this sort of 'hover to translate' thing which worked REALLY WELL, bc the translation was there but it didn't disrupt the flow of the fic.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Okay so I wanna know what counts here - if it's like, the first fic i POSTED, then that's Marvel (specifically the Avengers). If it's the first fic I wrote when I actually understood what 'fandom' was, then...I think that was also Avengers....or maybe BBC Sherlock. If it's the first thing I actually WROTE DOWN properly, then it was Doctor Who (specifically Ten and Rose and my oc companion sksk). If it was the first thing I played with creatively for media that wasn't my own...then that was probably me coming up with elaborate ocs out of two unicorns on the credits for the My Little Pony vhs tape we had SKSKSKSK SO. I don't know. One or all of those.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Oh this is hard because I'm proud of a lot of what I've written. My gut reaction at the moment is actually Trestle, even though it's unfinished and no one has read it HAHAH but I'm just so proud of some of the writing in that so far. And I'm extremely proud of Campervan AU as a whole entity. However I do really really love see me bare my teeth for you - which I actually forget about a LOT because it's not one of my thoschei fics sksksk. But I'm super proud of how that one turned out. And then also and they did live by watchfires because that one just has such a special place in my heart.

THANKS FOR THE TAG LIV!!! I'm gonna tag hmmmmmmm @sunshinedaysforever @taardisblue @novantinuum @emptyofdust @strikingtwelves @walker-lister aaaaah basically anyone else that wants to do this! :D