#i stayed at work later than i should have

[lilacxquartz]

Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 20

satoru gojo x f!reader x suguru geto

plot: moving to the city from a small town was no easy feat, especially to start teaching as a jujutsu sorcerer.

a/n: part 2, aka the continuation is now in process. warning for newcomers: this is a yandere story with dark (non-con, violence) themes. read on with caution. this story does not romanticise either concept.

masterlist • ao3 • chapter directory • < previous chapter • next chapter >

20. Promise

[3 months later]

You have never been one for goodbyes, but life as it had turned out, had already forced you to do so not once, but twice already.

The first time was voluntary; when you had left your sleepy hometown and the long-haunting corrupt influence far behind. It seemed like such a good decision back then, when you at long last, had obtained that prized referral to work at one of the country’s most prestigious Jujutsu institutions. It almost seemed too good to be true, and maybe that’s because it was, because, just like everything else in your life—all of the highs had to come down—inviting the lows to linger, to fester, to… rot.

The second time wasn’t by your own choice, however, but something far, far worse. If you were being honest, you couldn’t have made sense of your situation if you tried. Forced to flee from Tokyo following an obsession that went too far, the ever-lasting consequences of summer had consumed your life to the point where you were once again left a victim of an unrequited influence out of your control.

You’ve had plenty of time to think about just how exactly it all went wrong, too, and just for a while, you were happy to appoint the self-blame. In a twisted sense, you believed that it was your fault for trying to naively infiltrate a jaded world with such fresh hope. Maybe it was wrong of you to have dreamt of a better life; maybe you should never have tried with Jujutsu to begin with. Perhaps you should have taught the ordinary future generations of today because, it wasn’t like they didn’t matter, too. They were more responsible for future cursed energy than they even knew.

…But then again, how were you supposed to know that you were going to be so entangled between… them?

It wasn’t as though you set out to ruin your own life, after all. It was out of your control from the very second you let your guard down—from the moment that you placed your trust in the two people you shouldn’t have. That couldn’t have been on you, though. Surely not.

You did suppose, however, that in some sort of twisted sense, that your return to the city (albeit against your will) could have been considered a reunion of sorts when you were met with those chilling blue eyes once more. What was once a calm blue sea guiding the way now turned out to be a violent storm—its waves dragging you into the murky depths, anchoring you within it—but not quite letting you drown, at least not yet. You instead were trapped. Imprisoned in a floating limbo, forced to endure whatever… this… all was. It was humiliating, perhaps even insulting and you berated yourself mentally every single passing day for not fighting back against Satoru fucking Gojo when he confronted you back in Osaka, but then again, that same pressing question begged your rationality once more; how exactly were you ever supposed to go against someone like him to begin with?

Someone like him, who had the entire world of Jujutsu wrapped right around his finger.

As bleak as it all sounded, as harsh as the reality reigned true; you never had a chance to begin with, did you? Whether you ran away or stayed behind—it would have likely gone this way, because… after a summer of getting to know him, you of all people knew the truth (from learning it the hard way), that Satoru Gojo always got what he wanted.

You sighed as your eyes rolled back to glare at the fluorescent-lit ceiling, the pale flickering glow straining against your eyes. It was almost comedic with how dramatically it all came undone, like it was some sort of sick joke and you were the unsuspecting punchline right at the very end. Tokyo was supposed to be your fresh start away from the monotonous flow of small-town politics and its corrupt influence, so why on earth did it follow you here, too? You did everything right, after all, you studied hard and you persevered, you earned your place in the world, and just as it all finally began to fall into place… it unraveled. It was truly as though the string that you delicately wove through the passage of life was on its last thread, destined to snap from the moment it all connected.

(There was never a chance. There was always something in the way.)

You sat up, trying to avoid the light only to catch a flash of it reflected in the sleek black tiled floors. Closing your eyes in frustration, you tried to think back to the good times. You did suppose that the city was technically everything you had otherwise fantasised it to be; loud, noisy, and bustling with endless life. It was a far cry from the watchful and prying eyes of your quaint town. There was something… special about Tokyo because you were able to simply just… disappear, as one fleeting face of many, a living ghost blurring in and out of the crowd as you had pleased, free at last.

For it to have been taken away just from the introduction of three people, was almost hilarious. It was funny how that all worked. Just three people. Three.

Shoko, bless her heart, was your first real friend who guided you into the person that you desperately yearned to be. Someone both caring yet unrestricted from the confines of a sheltered former adolescence and then, guiding you into the further depths of it all, was… them.

Ah, Suguru Geto. If only you knew, huh? You laid back down with your head now slightly throbbing with a faint aura; the beginning of a migraine. These damned lights. So brooding and mysterious he was—it was a shame that he had to turn out the way that he did—a nightmare disguised as a dream. Was it your fault for admiring him from a distance initially? Did you somehow fall victim to some sort of manipulative act, when you found his calm, almost contemplative personality to be a comfort? His suffocating presence wasn’t something you could quite predict, after all, so possessive and longing, yet somehow subtly so. To have eluded the perceptive gaze of Shoko and even Satoru was almost impressive, but unsurprising because even he managed to fool you at times. Oh, how crazy he made you feel, even for just doubting him at all.

Then there was Satoru Gojo. Ah, Satoru, Satoru, Satoru… Oh, so ever loud and energetic, Satoru… Truth be told, you found him overwhelming at first, but there was a certain quality of his that drew you in. He was good at both carrying the conversation as well as involving you within it, making you feel special when the attention landed on you for just a second and dare you say, even… validated. Just like Suguru however, he couldn’t keep up the act for very long, though, even if he did crumble last. In some ways, he was the most volatile one out of both of them, because beyond that playful facade that he let on, was something else that bubbled and simmered beneath the surface. It was hard to tell at times, but it was certainly there.

Something that wasn’t quite calm, but maybe tender. Something that was… vulnerable and whatever it was, it made him dangerous to be around.

So in the end, if you had to truly reflect, then maybe it was all three of you that were at fault.

All three of you were that were victims of losing yourself in an attempt to look for something meaningful in that endless, unforgiving city. All three of you were subjected to the quickly fleeting addiction that you could never quite hold onto, of being both seen and understood. It was no wonder that you opened up too quickly and too soon, slipping on that pair of rose-tinted glasses longer than you should have. Maybe if you took them off when you had the chance, then you too, could have been yet another passing soul in and out of their lives, but you weren’t.

You got attached and so did they, and now, for a lack of better words, it wasn’t just your life that was ruined, but theirs too. All together, the three of you floated around in an unending, aimless drift, leaving Shoko to pick up the pieces (as usual).

The migraine faded and never thankfully developed, but you still grimaced at the light that flickered all the same. He was home, but not close just yet. All of those riches that lined his pockets and he couldn’t afford to screw in a better bulb for the lights or at least opt for something warmer and less clinical. You wanted to punch that light, to let it shatter and paint the room in a much-needed night, but you couldn’t. So instead, you were illuminated and exposed, plunged into the spotlight, forced to look at the pretty little cell he had confined you to.

Such continuous misery left you wondering if your life could have been… maybe… better if you followed Suguru. In a way, you missed his pretty lies because he at least tried to offer you comfort and see you for who you truly were, but he also hurt you, so you couldn’t forgive him. Twice. He hurt you twice and yet, your mind still drifted to him at times. Why? You couldn’t make sense of it—of him—of the very same man who despite forcing you to bury your past behind and move on—surely had an issue with never letting you go, with never letting anything that ever happened to you… go.

Did this therefore make Satoru better or worse? You didn’t even know anymore. They were both equal runner-ups for the worst human being, that much was for certain. Suguru may have been involved from the start, but he was nothing like Satoru, who was always watching right from the start, more closely than you, or anyone else had ever known. Those burning blue eyes so focused yet serene, locked on you in a way that almost felt invasive. If Suguru was the storm, then Satoru must have been the cataclysm itself.

Devastating. Consequential. Unforgiving.

Indeed, you were never free.

All of the hope, all of the dreams—everything else that fell in between—none of it was ever real.

The only thing that had ever remained consistent throughout this whole experience was the part where Satoru told you that he would never, ever let you go.

The lights above you were now starting to buzz and crackle, fading in and out with every muffled thud. He was approaching. Suddenly, you regretted spending so much time reflecting on the aftermath of your life yet again, knowing that you had spent yet another day moping around, thinking of them, of him… knowing fully well that you were never truly alone.

Satoru would reunite with you every night, on clockwork, never late and always on time.

His voice was calm, always welcoming yet never inviting. You always found yourself flinching as he greeted you, wanting nothing more than to be left alone for the night. Just one night was all you asked him for—it was all you begged for at one point—for him to not talk to you, for him to not… touch you. A single night was all that you asked for, a break from having to play pretend.

“Ah, [name],” Satoru cooed, lowering an unwinding staircase that revealed a mocking glimpse of the room just above. A faint reminder of just how close the surface was, yet so inaccessible. The entrance operated on a motor, using some sort of secret code. There was a dial pad inside of the basement he kept you in as a failsafe just in case it locked him in, but try as you might to crack the code, you never guessed it right and every time you failed, it sent an alert to him. “You haven’t moved an inch from where I left you last! Didn’t I tell you about the importance of needing to stretch, even if it’s just for a minute or two a day?”

“Please just let me go,” you croaked out weakly, knowing that he wasn’t going to oblige, let alone even humour you.

Predictably ignoring your request, he walked over to you, setting down a plain white plastic bag right where you lay, strategically positioning it so that you could spot your favourite snacks and drinks poking out.

“It’s been a hell of a long day, you know,” he continued, adopting a softer tone that almost sounded hopeful, “did you miss me?”

You closed your eyes in an attempt to block him out. “You already know the answer to that one, don’t you?”

Satoru snorted a half-laugh, seeming annoyed but also amused. “You’ll have to admit it one day, [name],” he reminded, “the sooner you learn to… adapt, the sooner it’ll start to look up for you, and maybe, just maybe…” he trailed off, letting the beginning of a promise hang, “I’ll let you see your friends again, maybe I’d even let you see… him,” he paused as he said that last word, his composed demeanour ever so slightly faltering at the indirect mention of Suguru, “so, what do you say?”

You repeated the same answer you always did, “Never, Gojo,” you sighed, already expecting the worst as he took up the free seat next to you on the sofa, settling right where your head lay.

You felt a cold shocking jolt run through your body as his cold hands cupped your face, tilting your head up to meet with his longing yet intense stare. He would do such a thing on occasion, hoping that you would return even a hint of the way you once looked at Suguru before, and yet you didn’t. In your eyes, there was resentment but also, if he looked hard enough, fear.

“What have I told you about being so formal, huh?” he murmured, scoffing a little, “we’ve been over this, you’ll call me Satoru and we’re… we’re going to make this work,” he reminded you, trying to maintain his composure, “I’m not letting you go either way, so you’re going to have to drop that at some point, because like it or not, it’s not up to you how it all goes… it never has been.”

You blinked, unable to reply.

Satoru’s eyes softened for a moment, revealing a hint of internally conflicting vulnerability, maybe even traces of guilt glinting in his stare. “We’ll play pretend for as long as we have to, yeah? We’ll make all of it feel real one day.”

His words cut sharp even if it was just a reminder of something you already knew, that there was some sort of unseen force meddling in the sidelines of your life, forcing you to endure whatever life had in store for you, even if it meant pretending that it was all okay.

One thing did bother you, though.

A question that you looped over and over in the back of your mind and yet you never did dare ask him, as if afraid to hear the answer.

If he was simply fulfilling his promise to never let you go…

…Then why was he punishing you for being here?

[all3-stxr]

silent hill

the trees stretched up above the horizon, making this town feel all the more suffocating, paired with the thick fog as dazai wandered the forest. the trail felt much longer than he remembered, though he hadn’t been in here in the last three years, so he couldn’t say much, even as he approached a clearing to a well that he was sure wasn’t there before.

a faint red light emits from the bottom of the well, a pretty shade of crimson dancing across the underside of the roof, like the reflection of water. curious, he leaned in to see inside, the red light casting shadows across his face as he gazed downward.

a sudden pain shot through his head and he grimaced, taking a few steps back in hopes that putting space between him and that light would help. “god, it’s like someone’s groping around my skull.” he rubbed his temple, the pain slowly beginning to subside a few seconds later.

he shook his head, eyeing the well one last time before following the trail in the opposite direction. he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that washed over him with every step he took, like if he ventured too far, he’d find something he didn’t want to see.

but he couldn’t let that hold him back. he was determined to find you, and he’d do just about anything to do it.

he paused, looking up at the tall gates leading into a cemetery. could this be the way? he didn’t know.

dazai didn’t know a lot of things since you died. life felt empty, hopeless as he trudged about, going through his job only to come back home to an empty house.

he missed your hugs, those sweet little kisses you’d give him before he went to work and right when he came home. those little visits when he would forget his lunch even though he told you he wasn’t hungry, you’d always come just in case. how you asked what he wanted to eat every day despite him telling you that you didn’t have to cook, that just you being with him was enough.

he missed you.

pushing open the gates, he glanced around aimlessly until his eyes fell upon a figure hunched over before a gravestone, wiping away at the dust in a futile attempt to read its owner's name.

he tentatively reached out a hand, grasping their shoulder. “excuse me. . .”

he was greeted by a sharp gasp, and the stranger quickly stood up, stepping back a few paces. it was a boy with choppy white hair and large, heterochromatic eyes, his face pale and his eyes sunken, like he hadn't slept in a few days. “i’m sorry, i- i was just. . .” he raised his hands swiftly, regaining his composure as he took a deep breath.

“hey, it’s okay,” dazai interjected, “i didn’t mean to scare you.” he took a step back, giving the boy his space. “i’m kind of lost.”

 the boy closed the distance dazai just put between them, his brows furrowing. “lost?”

“yeah, i’m looking for silent hill? is this the right way?”

he gave him a once over, nodding. “um, yeah.” holding a hand up, he pointed off somewhere in the distance. “it’s hard to see with this fog, but there’s only one road. you can’t miss it.”

“thanks.” dazai hummed, turning on his heel to leave.

“but. . .” the boy hesitated, taking an unsure step forward, prompting dazai to turn around. “i think you should stay away. this, uh. . . this town,” he glanced away nervously, as if sensing the other’s confusion. “there’s something wrong with it. and it’s not just the fog either.”

“is it dangerous?”

he fiddled with the ends of his gloves. “maybe. . . it’s kind of hard to explain, but. . .”

dazai waved him off. “i’ll be careful.”

“i’m not lying!” the boy insisted, raising his voice slightly.

“no, i believe you. it’s just. . .” he paused, thinking about how to phrase it right. “i guess i don’t really care if it’s dangerous, or not. i’m going either way.”

“but. . . why?”

“i’m looking for-” he hesitated, his eyes falling to the ground for just a moment. “. . .someone. someone very important to me.”

the stranger’s eyes widened a little. “me too. i’m looking for the headmaster. i mean, my father.” he corrected himself quickly. “it’s been so long since i’ve seen him. i thought the other kids were here, but i can’t find them either.” he looked around, eyes taking in all the gravestones, wondering if they were the ones six feet deep, but he shook his head and turned back over to dazai. “i’m sorry. . . it’s not your problem.”

“no, i. . .” he smiled. “i hope you find them.”

“yeah, you too.” the boy returned the smile, gradually shifting his focus back to the gravestones.

the fog seemed to grow thicker as he approached the town, the trees growing sparse as he followed the road. silent hill was just how he remembered. . . almost.

cafes and shops at every corner - small businesses that you’d never recognize the names of unless you live there - the many houses lined up along the road, and those few streets that if not for the fog, you’d see the other end of town. but something was amiss, something that any one person would recognize almost immediately.

it was dead silent.

though in its name, silent hill was never usually this. . . silent. the population was around 2,000 - people usually walked the streets, and few cars would pass by every now and then. there’d be greetings, gossip - in a small town like this, everyone knows everyone. but there wasn’t a single soul wandering about.

cars littered the streets, both in the middle and parked along the sidewalk, some windows broken and smashed in, tires deflated and paint rusted. it was like everyone just went up and left, leaving the town in complete disarray.

dazai clutched the map in his hand, glancing from side to side as he took in the mess. was this really silent hill?

it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. it’s as if this place died with you. like the moment you breathed your last breath of air, the town did too, and you both fell together.

he shook his head, trying to convince himself of happier thoughts. you were here. you had to be. even if this town had died, that doesn’t mean it took you with it. he’d make sure of it.

who else could’ve written that letter?

[cash-legacy]

SOGUE MAGAZINE, WINTER 2024

The Blood of the Innocent: Judith Ward's Dirty Little Secret

(For the Occultify a Sim challenge in the Occult Simblr Discord)

Nobody will forget the feeling of seeing their childhood favorite movie star twenty years later. The nostalgia of seeing their face, the weird awareness of your own mortality as you take in the new wrinkles and lines. Did she have those kids when she filmed that movie? Were they really that young? I'm older than he was when he filmed that one show... But one Del Sol face has yet to bear the scars of time - the ever-iconic Judith Ward. In our interview, Ward told me exactly how she's stayed just so young and lovely: consensual Vampirism.

Want more? Read the rest of the article below the cut!

This announcement comes at a complicated time for Simerica, as anti-Occult sentiments have spread across the nation like wildfire, and public opinion has shifted away from their support. Vampires especially, known for their "inborn" violent tendencies towards ordinary Sims, face a great deal of discrimination in many regions. Some Sims view this as a safety measure, a means of keeping natural killers away from their families. Recent legislation has attempted to make this a national issue, as opposed to a region-specific one, as proposed by senators Victor Feng and Anne Thorne, of San Myshuno and Copperdale respectively. Others sympathize with the Occult cause. Feng and Thorne's bill failed to get the required majority, but it was close. Many Sims on both sides of the political spectrum felt that the vote should have swung one way or another, and celebrities across Simerica have taken to speaking their piece. Judith Ward's, however, may be the most personal - and impactful - of them all. We conducted our interview at Ward's Del Sol house:

WHY NOW? "Now is precisely the right time to speak up about these things. Sims across the nation are wondering what to believe, and who to trust. And they know they can trust me. If being open about what I am convinces even a single Sim to join the cause and protect my people, it will have been worth all the backlash I expect to face." YOU CALLED IT CONSENSUAL VAMPIRISM. EXPLAIN THAT? "It's true that untrained or under-educated Vampires can cause massive harm to populations, especially in small towns. But the solution to that problem isn't punishing them, or stripping them of their resources. We've seen what happens when you do that. It's why we've had this moment of tension in the first place. But when provided the resources needed to survive harmlessly, Vampires are no more dangerous than any other Sim." BUT... "CONSENSUAL?" "I keep a few Sims in my employ. Times are tough, and I pay handsomely. It's in cooperation with a private medical practice, they're thoroughly informed beforehand, and it's all quite sterile and ethical, don't you worry." TELL ME ABOUT YOUR EXPERIENCE WITH VAMPIRISM. "I admit, when I first signed up for it, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. It was frightening. The transformation can be quite painful, particularly in the first few days. I've had some issues with work, too. I have to film daylight scenes in short bursts, or on soundstages. I've lost more than a few roles because of it. But I've got it easy, all things considered. My heart really goes out to all those who don't have such flexibility in their careers."

It's hard to say for certain where Occult politics will lead. Polling is wildly polarized across and within regions, and extremism on both sides is rampant. More and more prominent social figures are taking stances, and Judith Ward certainly won't be the last. Only time will tell which way the political compass will turn. See you next time, LINCOLN BROADSHEET

CelebCrave: Sogue Journalist Fired After Political Tantrum!

"They wildly misrepresented me," complained former Sogue interviewer Lincoln Broadsheet, in a recent Social Bunny post. "I didn't approve the cover or the title... It's incredibly hurtful to see such a prominent magazine ignore my intentions as a writer like this... And they fired me over it. Writers like me get fired for trying to provide the truth, instead of writing for clicks." Read the full Social Bunny thread here: Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites replying to @[...] They wildly misrepresented me and Judith. It was a huge lapse in judgment from Sogue, and their decision to fire me when I protested was irresponsible. 1/8 Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites I didn't approve the cover or the title. My articles are always unbiased, especially when they're about such decisive subjects. It's incredibly hurtful to see such a prominent magazine ignore my intentions as a writer like this. 2/8 Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites I couldn't sit by without speaking out, and they fired me over it. It hurts to see how many Sims don't care about misinformation and biased reporting. These issues are rampant, and writers like me get fired for trying to provide the truth, instead of writing for clicks. 3/8 [...]

[authoratmidnight]

Unfortunately I have robots on the brain + a love for a good heel face turn.

So fuck it, Knock Out/Break Down defection.

It starts with Breakdown getting abducted by M.E.C.H. and Megatron writing him off as dead/not worth saving. After all, he let *humans8 get the drop on him, whatever happens is his own fault.

Knock Out is appalled and rightly so. They're just, gonna abandon one of their own? He's not a flier tho so going to rescue Breakdown himself is not going to be fast.

Which means that when the Autobots end up rescuing him, there is no Decepticons to show up. No one ever arrives to save him. Only his enemies.

And by the time Knock Out *does* show up, there's no one there. No Breakdown, no Autobots, no M.E.C.H. and he has to return dejected and empty handed. And worse, no one seems to care. (this also means he has no idea of Breakdown's fate, is he alive? dead?)

So they drag him back to the base so Ratchet can patch him up cause he is in rough shape mind you. And it is just, weird all around.

On the Autobots' side of things is the glaring fact that there is a Decepticon in their base. He's not trying to kill them but like, he IS there. It's so weird.

On Breakdown's side it's the fact that his enemy is helping him, providing him aid. That his enemy seems to care more about him than his own comrades. And of course, watching how they interact with each other, with Optimus is eye opening. The differences between them is startling.

The rest of the Autobots do respect Optimus but they don't live in fear of him, not how they do around Megatron. He's not scary, he doesn't yell lose his temper at them, he doesn't strike them and break things. He's, nice.

And while they banter with each other and sometimes argue, it's never mean spirited or cruel.

He stays there for a bit to recover and he starts to wonder, what he should do? He can't possibly go back to the Decepticons, they'd never take him back, especially after this. But, it's clearly not safe to be out on his own given that M.E.C.H. is out there and what they did to him.

So he does the almost unthinkable. Asks if he would be allowed to stay with them for now. Just while he decides what he wants to do. If he has to stay in the base then he will. They decide to allow it because well, he hasn't really done anything to them thus far.

Trying to interact with them is so awkward though, and he spends most of his time doing essentially grunt work around the base. The first one to speak to him and extend a hand is Bulkhead. They are rivals after all and Bulkhead is the only one he has a prior history with. It's so weird not trying to punch each other out, even if Bulkhead says they can go for another round at a later time and he will kick his tailpipe.

(the whole time Knock Out is moping and feeling disheartened cause he just wants his guy back)

Eventually, the Autobots do sort of warm up to Breakdown. When he's not punching them out he's not really so bad.

At some point, he goes out on a mission with Bulkhead (listen, he's recovered and he can't stay inside all the time, he's going stir crazy, and if anyone can handle him it's Bulkhead). And leaving the shielded protection of the base alerts the Decepticons that he is alive, cause they have his life signal again.

And Knock Out is not taking no for an answer on going to find him. He'll piggy back on Starscream or the Seekers if he must.

Cue a VERY dramatic meeting of Knock Out and Breakdown, made all the more tense and dramatic given that he's in the company of an Autobot and NOT trying to fight him. Naturally, Knock Out tries to convince him to go back, and it IS tempting, if only cause going back means Knock Out is there. But he can't exactly guarantee that Breakdown won't be punished for, all this, so he has to decline.

Insert a moment of him really showing which side he's on (perhaps not even consciously) when he protects Bulkhead from another Vehicon or something. Bulkhead is shook cause a part of him was expecting Breakdown to go with Knock Out. this doe sin fact help endear him a bit more to the Autobots.

But now, Knock Out knows that Breakdown is alive. And by the Allspark he WILL be reunited with his partner one way or another. Of course, he can't contact him, he's shielded by the autobot base. But he does leave it from time to time, and then he can pick up his signal. Ofc he keeps this a secret b/c once it came to light that Breakdown was siding with the autobots he was marked as a traitor. No one talks about him anymore, and they certainly aren't gonna try and bring him back.

He absolutely is plotting ways to get out and meet with him/contact him, to at the very least just talk with him. And eventually somehow he does. Catches Breakdown when he's out alone (or at least, the bot he went out with is not in the immediate vicinity to be seen). And it's tense and emotional. Cause Breakdown is still deeply hurt that no one but his (former) enemies came to save him. Makes a bot think. Knock Out swears he did try to come, he was the only one that wanted to.

The conversation is interrupted when whichever Autobot was with him comes back and Knock Out books it. Even if he wanted to leave with Breakdown, there's some thing he needs to take care of on The Nemesis (basically purging any files regarding either of them/deleting them from the database so they can't be tracked anymore).

Which he does do and has to beat one hell of a hasty retreat when Soundwave catches on and alerts the others as to what he's doing. This is effectively his point of no return. He ground bridges out, with Cons on his tail. And calls to Breakdown for a rescue (I'm thinking, before they parted on their last meeting he gave him some kind of communicator or something).

Breakdown is quite surprised when he does get a distress call from Knock Out, who is currently running for his damn life cause if they catch him they will kill him. And frankly he does like living.

Breakdown DOES end up going to get him, by plugging the coordinates he got into the ground bridge and bridging out (he's watched Ratchet AND Knock Out do this, he knows how to do it). Which also means the Autobots are chasing after him cause dude what the hell??

They do manage to find Knock Out, still running for his life. And Breakdown is gonna bring him back even if they complain (also he may or may not be wounded, I haven't decided yet, tho wounded would be some fun :p)

So now the Autobots have TWO Decepticons in their base and boy is it weird. Also now they gotta explain this to Optimus (who more just wants to know why Breakdown went behind his back, you could have asked bro. (Better to beg for forgiveness than ask permission I suppose).

Also explaining this to the humans. Breakdown was one thing but Knock Out? oof.

(Knock Out has some second thought upon meeting the humans b/c oh NO they're everywhere and gonna get their grimey weird hands all over him and yes ok he knows his alt mode is sick as hell but NO they can't go for a spin in him! Someone help!)

It would, imo, be a really funny dynamic. Also Knock Out has dirt on the Cons I'm sure. He is a petty bitch

(The second amusing option I had for getting Knock Out there was finding him while out on a mission, maybe after he sneakily purged what needed to be purged, and he just goes 'well, if I'm not being invited back, I guess you'll have to take me prisoner?' and Breakdown just rolls his eyes and "apprehends" him and brings him back. Literally no one is buying this at all lol)

Part fix it fic, part heel face turn, all totally shameless KOBD lol

[kryptznnn]

♡/♛- It's Been A While [III]

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➸ INTERESTS; -mha!shouta aizawa x quirk-using!freader

➸ BACKGROUND; - after an attack at the high school you studied in, you were requested by your work firm and the firm of that school to work as a teacher there for extra security, incase an attack were to occur again to protect the students (and teachers). Unfortunately, it won't be as easy as you expected when you rekindle with old friends, and a specific someone.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 4.5k, romantic tension, traumatic disturbances, mentions of medications, bad health history, hallucinations, little bit angsty, haunted by the past, sexual tension, shaking, indecisiveness, confusion, etc.

➸a.i; - its 6am i sleep, also posting the masterlist for the series whenever I wake up, it should be updated on all of the chapters sooner or later this afternoon (also ik the chapter is so long im sorry i was bored) !!

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♡/♛- It's Been A While [ II ]

♡/♛- It's Been A While Masterlist

You sighed as you placed the textbook you were reading back down on your desk your students rushed out of your class. The last bell of the day had rung, and it also seemed like the deadline for your answer to the question Shouta had asked you prior.

His words still rang in your head, you kept both of your hands over the sides of your head, thinking. There was no way you could reject his offer, but there was also no way you could accept it either. Luck was barely on your side knowing that whoever broke into your apartment didn't know your schedule had changed, you couldn't put others in danger.

If anything considered from the heads up your boss had given you last night, whoever or whatever they were must have been after you for two reasons: your status within the embassy, or your quirk. The second reason made much more sense to you however, because if they had wanted you for your title, they would've come to see you much sooner.

Now was a horrible time to even think about or do such a thing, especially since you had to drug yourself up over prescribed medications to even keep your powers and emotions at bay. It's easy for someone to use you for your powers rather than status, honestly that's what you liked so much about the embassy, you barely had to use your quirk.

No one even knew about your quick use of medications to keep yourself at a low after so many losses from your powers. Each time you convinced yourself they were accidents, and honestly, they were, but the number of nightmares you had about the occurrences said otherwise.

Now with everything hitting you all at once you had the option to move in somewhere secure, somewhere safe. You knew Shouta and you knew he was someone who could take care of you, and himself. He was a pro hero for fucks sake, one of the best at that, it can't be as dangerous as you think if you were to accept his offer.

Maybe it'll be a good thing, maybe just maybe this is one of the only opportunities I'll have at being happy or seeing things on the bright side after having such a shit week. Plus, you didn't have to keep paying in cash to stay longer than you intended at the hotel you were planning to stay in.

You stood up from your seat, collecting your belongings from your desk and placing them in your work bag. Determined to find Shouta to speak with him about his offer, unexpectedly you hear a knock coming from your opened doorway to find him standing there.

"Hey" you said softly, glancing back at your desk and grabbing your phone, seeing you had a message. You only turned it off, thinking to yourself you'd answer it later as you placed it in your pocket.

"Hey, I was just stopping by to see if you made up your mind about my offer, it still stands." He replied, his voice heavy as he watched your movements, both of his hands now in his pockets. You looked back at him, now taking him in fully.

He had gotten a lot taller from when you two were this close, of course that was back in high school before you had left. If anything, if you had gotten closer to him, he might as well have towered over you. You only smiled at him and nodded as you threw your bag over your shoulder, placing your hands in your pockets as well.

"I was actually just on my way to go see you about that actually." You began, scanning his face for any reaction from the first half of your statement, only to see nothing but him nodding. "I accept your offer, but I'm not sure I'll be able to thank you enough for it, I have a lot to bring though." You stated, placing a hand out of your pocket and pointing behind you with a smile.

You said softly, you weren't sure if it was the bandages pressed against his collarbone and lower chin that made him put his head down, but you could've sworn he was smiling just now. He'd do that all the time since you two were children, hiding whenever he smiled or laughed, it's good to see that most things haven't changed.

It's almost funny really, how just a few days ago he seemed like he hated you. Was doing everything to avoid you or even speak to you, acting like the grinch almost, and here he was now, with you, smiling because you accepted his offer to move in with him temporarily.

"If it's your bags being too heavy, I can always help you with them and anything else you're bringing. I have plenty of space so you can put your things where you want." He spoke softly, now taking a step towards you, if you were to even move back you would've hit your desk.

You stood your ground and eyed him as he made his way towards you, you only nodded in response. Now gripping on tightly to the bag that weighed down on your shoulder. Your eyes met with Shouta's constantly within seconds, the tension between the two of you becoming thicker with each glance, as you stepped around him to leave you paused.

"If you send me the address to your place I'll stop by later tonight with my things, I need to pack." You said, not even turning to look at him. You needed to get out of that room, and it had to be quick, whatever it was he saw in you to look at you the way you did made you scream internally.

"I don't think I have your new number..." he said as he turned around and watched your state, it's almost as if you could feel him raise a brow, but you didn't dare to turn around and look him in the eyes again.

"My number never changed" you said simply, now turning to the left as your heels clicked. You made your way down the hallway towards the exit and into the parking lot, digging in your pocket to get your car keys. The entire moment the two of you just shared replaying in your head over and over without fail.

As you unlocked your car and took your bag off your shoulder you chewed on your bottom lip. Tossing your bag in the passenger's seat as you sat in the driver's seat, gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life.

This was going to be much more complicated than you expected.

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You scratched your head as you looked at the way you placed your bags within the trunk of your car. It looked so disorganized, but frankly you were too tired to fix them any better, the car ride would've been bumpy regardless, so it didn't matter too much. Just as you were going to close your trunk, your phone vibrated.

You reached in the back pocket of your jeans and pulled it out, seeing a message from Shouta and the person who had messaged you earlier in the afternoon. You closed your trunk and made your way to the driver's seat, locking your car as you sat in the parking lot of the hotel you stayed the night at. Now unlocking your phone and going to messages you saw the message underneath Shouta's from an unknown number, you rose a brow before opening it.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX: I won't let you forget about what you've done to our family]

You felt a twist in your stomach as you read it, already knowing who it was from, one of your old 'accidents' that occurred right after high school. The one that caused you the most grief and nightmares from the tragedy, and the same one that made you quickly cut the deal from being a pro-hero and working full time for the embassy.

Without a second thought you quickly blocked the number, sucking your teeth as you slumped into the seat, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You quickly swallowed your emotions as you remembered you hadn't answered Shouta's texts, quickly opening it and reading his message.

[Shouta :) : Hey, here's the address XXXX Main St, XXXX ****. Be safe on your trip here, I'll be waiting outside to help with your bags]

You smiled at his text, looking in your rearview mirror at the bags piled up in the trunk. You shook your head and chuckled softly, only hearting his message and pressing on the address that was underlined. It took you straight to the maps app and you followed your GPS to his place, as you followed it you played music from your favorite playlist on the way.

As you got closer and closer to the destination of his place you began to think how it would be. Was it just a two-bedroom apartment or was it something large and cozy like your own apartment. It must depend on the salary he's getting as both a pro hero and as a teacher, in all honesty you had no idea.

He didn't seem like a huge person on decorations or huge flashy things, so you didn't expect much, but when you drove through in the neighborhood you weren't expecting to see such a nice grey tone looking house. When your GPS told you that this was your destination you blinked out of confusion, looking back at the numbers on the house then your phone.

It wasn't wrong, this was definitely your destination, you just weren't expecting all of this. You shook away your thoughts and pulled into the driveway before seeing the garage open as you shut off the car after parking it. As you opened your car door the garage opened fully, revealing Shouta.

Honestly if you hadn't been paying attention you wouldn't have suspected it was him, he looked entirely different than he did a few hours ago. He was built, and you meant it, he was wearing all black, black sweatpants and a black wifebeater. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail as he kept one hand in his pocket, raising the other one to wave at you.

Thank goodness he did wave at you, because it snapped you out of the little trance you were having of him. There's no way he was hiding all of that in the outfit he wore on the daily with his students and at night on his patrols. As you waved back at him and closed your door to make your way to your trunk you still couldn't wrap your head around it all.

Lost deep in thought you weren't even aware that when you opened your trunk, he was already making his way right behind you. Before you could reach for the first bag in the back his hand grazed yours as he picked it up, then picked up another and threw it over his shoulder.

Your head sunk down slowly as your breath hitched, not wanting to make this more awkward than it already was. You slowly made your way to the side and picked up two much smaller bags and turned to him as he cocked his head to the side, pointing to the house.

"Just follow me and I'll show you where your room is" he said, looking at you, you looked back to the car with a nod quickly. There was no way in hell you two were about to start yet another staring contest, especially now of all times.

As you followed him inside you got a nice view of the house, well the inside anyway, everything was nice and clean. It was honestly pretty bland inside, no sheer pop of color or decors, just furniture that was a sort of marble grey. Anything you could look at or pay attention too other than the handsome sculpted man in front of you would've sufficed.

As you walked down the hallway, you heard him speaking of you having the room entirely to yourself, and the bathroom was just to the side of it. You only hummed in response to his statement as your mind continued to wander, until a sudden question popped up in your head.

"Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?" You asked, your question quickly followed by a yawn, to which you covered your mouth with the back of your hand. Shouta placed your bags down in your new room, it was big to say the least, neat and empty. The bed sheets were a tan kind of color, sand almost, along with a cream-colored blanket.

"What do you mean?" He asked, now turning to you and raising a brow as you placed your bags down on your bed, looking around the room to see where you'd place most of your belongings. You looked up at him, taking a glance at his face before walking over to the dresser that was in front of your bed.

"When we first bumped into each other you looked at me like you hated me, now we're here." You said carelessly, looking at your reflection in the mirror as you toyed with your hair for a little, looking over to see him in the mirror as he crossed his arms.

"I've never hated you" he said honestly, you now turned to look at him, in the eyes this time. Seeing the same look he had before, a look of sadness and sorrow. You only hummed in response yet again before opening the empty drawers to your dresser and looking inside them all, planning which draw would hold what.

You only left the room in one swift movement and made your way back to your car and grabbing your last two bags along with your work bag. You closed the trunk as you locked the car and began walking back inside.

Whatever answer he just gave you when you were inside didn’t answer your question, you hated how he always beat around the bush. Now you were too tired to argue or pry to get an answer that you wanted from him, you only returned inside through the garage to see him standing in the hallway waiting for you. Without exchanging any words, he just came over to you, taking the bags from your hands in one swift movement and walked into your room, placing them with the others.

“Thank you” you said, removing your phone and keys from your pockets and placing them on your nightstand by your bed. Shouta only shook his head at your words.

“No need to thank me, follow me so I can show you around” He spoke, now exiting your room and pointing down the hall for you to follow him. You followed behind slowly, turning your gaze back to the walls and floors now, not wanting to look at him knowing how easily your mind wanders.

You wondered how he felt about you, honestly it couldn’t be anything bad, he had offered for you to live in his house after hearing of your problems. Even though things ended rocky between the two of you and started again off to a strange start here you were, pushing everything to the side as he gave you a personal house tour.

You couldn’t even call this fate, as of right now you had no idea what it was, but whatever it was made you more curious than ever. As the small tour came to an end Shouta had shown you practically everything. The kitchen, living room, his bedroom and your bathroom, it wasn’t a lot, but it could be, his home was spacious, and you liked that.

He had even cooked apparently, and you complimented it too. His food was good and honestly you were surprised when he first told you, not expecting him to be the cooking type. Soon after you helped him clean up and stood around as you watched him.

Not to mention to your surprise you felt something pet against the heel of your feet, startling you as you quickly turned around. You were met with a small black cat, meowing at you softly before repeating the same action as before. You only smiled and relaxed, bending over to pet it, your back now facing Shouta.

You grinned as you called it pet names as you continued to pet it before picking it up and reading the collar. ‘Yoyo’ you read and laughed, knowing there was no way Shouta could’ve named her.

“This was definitely Nemuri’s doing, I think you’re more creative than this.” You laughed turning to Shouta, who was dangerously close to you. Your arm had brushed up against his chest and you knew better than to move. You only turned all of your attention back to Yoyo, as if you hadn’t realized what happened.

“Yeah, it was, I wasn’t sure what to name her, but I had help” he replied, placing his hand on the back of his neck and holding it gently as he sighed. You gave Yoyo a small kiss and hug before placing her down back on the floor and standing up again.

Without thinking you turned around and face planted into Shouta’s side, immediately pulling back and apologizing as you held your head. He only shook his head and apologized as well, placing a hand on your shoulder asking if you were alright. You only nodded and drew your shoulder back, feeling dizzy at the feeling.

He smelled good, too good, like one of those really nice colognes that would catch your attention whenever you went shopping and passed by the men’s section. You were snapped out of your trance when it seemed for a split second someone was standing behind him.

You immediately darted your head to the side, only to see the figure disappear as you frowned. You just brushed it off and turned into the kitchen, checking the time. As you counted how many weeks it had been in your head.

8:36pm

You were late to take one of your medications, your alarm had probably been going off for a while now and you weren’t even aware of it. Thankfully you had already eaten so you didn’t have to worry about taking it on an empty stomach.

“I have to go, I’ll uh, I’ll be back” you said with a pause, quickly turning around and making your way back to your room. You quickly shut off the silent alarm that had been ringing on your phone for nearly an hour before grabbing your keys and heading outside.

As you unlocked your car and climbed into the passenger seat to open the glove department you saw a shadow in the rear-view mirror. You turned around slowly only for the figure to yet again disintegrate from your view. You took a deep breath and searched for the bottle you were looking for amongst the junk in the department box, ending your search when you found a bottle labeled ‘Risperdal’.

As you cleaned up and closed your glove department box and locked your car you quickly walked back inside. The figure appearing beside you yet again, muttering whispers to you as you ignored it and made your way back to your room digging in your bag.

Your pill cutter where is your pill cutter. You’re prescribed to only take half of the full number of milligrams the pill had and unfortunately you had already taken the other left over half 3 weeks ago. It was surprising to you almost, you had never taken them so close together before, things like these were only monthly occurrences, but it was getting worse.

You sighed to yourself out of frustration as you couldn’t find what you were looking for, your grip on your bottle tightening as the faceless figure taunted you, practically laughing at you through a mouth it had grown out of nowhere.

You made your way back to the kitchen, embarrassment hitting you as you realized you had one of two options. Either hoping Shouta had a pill cutter around somewhere or using a knife to cut it yourself.

He raised his head as he looked up at you after drying his hands when he finished the dishes. Smiling at you softly before seeing something in your hands and raising a brow as you wet your lips and parted them.

“Hey um, do you have any pill cutters?” You asked quietly, but loud enough for him to hear, he slowly made his way over to you. He opened the cabinet beside your head filled with medications, as he reached to the top shelf and got a green pill cutter and placed it on the counter.

He then made his way over to his fridge and got a cold-water bottle, placing it next to the cutter. The entire time he kept his eyes on you, only that you weren’t looking at him, more or less something behind or around him had your attention.

Your eyes trailed on the figure that now morphed into a teenage girl, one who you had known well in high school. She went around and teased you laughing at Shouta as she grinned at you sinisterly as she spoke, you couldn’t hear what she was saying as it all came out as whispers. You knew it wasn't her though, the way her body was so deformed, and her face was twisted proved it was all in your head.

You then looked over to the pill cutter, placing the pill bottle in your hand on the counter before opening it quickly. Then opening the water bottle, shaking slightly as you did so before placing a pill within the tiny machine on the counter.

The girl had now made her way over to you as you placed the device in your hand, clamping your hands down on the button attempting to cut the pill. The more and more she whispered to you and placed her hands on your shoulders the more you trembled, your vision clouded with tears as you chewed on your bottom lip.

Within seconds you felt two large hands overcoming your own, and a firm chest being pressed against your back as you heard a click from the pill cutter. You gasped softly as you were snapped out of your trance for a short while as Shouta took the pill cutter from your hands.

He soon opened the device and took the left half of the pill with one hand, his other one rested on your shoulder. There was absolute silence between the two of you, the only thing making noise was you, your breathing was ragged. He paused as he read the label of your pill bottle, frowning softly before turning his attention back to you.

“Can I trust you to take it yourself or do you need my help?” He asked softly, his body still pressed against yours, you only shook your head in response. You only kept your head down and turned around slightly, the whispers of before echoing in your mind.

Shouta hadn’t said anything else, he only lifted your head slightly, his hand grabbing your jaw softly as he looked at you. It’s as if you weren’t even there with him, looking over the side of his shoulder, your mouth still agape. You watched as the deformation of the girl disappeared, her laughter leaving a trail behind.

He took the pill and placed it at your lips, his fingers brushing against your lips focused your attention on him, your eyes now locked with his. You parted your lips even more now, letting the cut pill go past your lips and hit your tongue, the taste bitter as your eyes never left his.

Your eyes were watery was his first thought, the same way they always were whenever you were about to cry. For as long as he knew you it had been that way, you’d squint slightly before letting your eyes water and cry, and he hated it.

He hated how conceited you were, especially with him, and now it hadn’t seemed like things had changed much. Even now, years later you were taking on way much more than you could chew, and he always blamed the embassy for it.

The two of you broke eye contact as you were the first to turn around, placing a hand on his chest to push him away softly so you could reach for the water bottle he had gotten you before. You quickly chugged the bottle two thirds of the way down, the bitter taste still in your mouth as you placed the bottle down.

The hand you had on Shouta’s chest hadn’t left, he grabbed it softly, tugging you towards him as you turned around again. You looked at his face, hinted with disappointment and possibly anger as he saw your gaze.

“Y/n. Risperdal? What has happened since you joined the embassy?” He said, now bending slightly to reach your eye level, his hands not leaving your arms. You had heard him, but his words weren’t as loud as the whispers that were still echoing in your head before you spoke.

“I’m fine, I took it too late” you replied slightly, ready to push him off of you, but his grip only tightened, pulling you in closer. You’re too close to one another, way too close. You weren't sure if your thumping heartbeat was getting louder from the way he held you or the sounds ringing in your mind, but you didn't like it.

Even through the haze of what you’re going through you can tell that this was wrong, even though it felt good, and it made you feel warm inside. You shook your head and pushed him off of you successfully this time as he left you go.

“I said I’m fine.” You repeated harshly, glaring at him as you watched his sad expression quickly turn angry, glaring back at you in return. Your hand clammy as you squeezed it open and closed again. There was no need for him to care so closely to you as he had before, you two weren't together anymore.

“You’re still a shitty liar, I guess you haven’t changed since when you left.” He responded harshly, you looked to the side and thought back to when you left initially years back. Your expression softening as you took a breath and stopped clamming with your hand.

You only excused yourself and bid yourself goodnight, practically speed walking back your room before slamming the door behind you. Taking all preparations and moving your bags to the side as you got ready for bed, laying underneath the covers with your earphones in listening to your music as you tried to tune out your thoughts before drifting to sleep.

Maybe you were right about putting Shouta in danger by living here, but the danger wasn’t from the outside or whoever was after you.

The danger was you.

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Taglist: @getoisinnocent

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[justevelynnnn]

I want to be more

Summary: You work in a brothel in the early 1900s after WW1. You had few clients but just started having one regular. He was solider. You fall for him only after a few times of meeting. You soon wanted to be more than…whatever this is.

Warnings: Cussing, Reader is a woman, prostitution, smut mentioning throughout, alcohol consumption, signs of limerence, angsty ending

(this is barely proofread too)

A/N: This idea came to me out of nowhere..i’m so happy with it though. I had fun incorporating 1920s slang into this too. I think i have an idea for a part 2 but that might come later..

It was a cold winter day. Clients came in less when it was cold, not wanting to travel through the snow. Only the really, truly libidinous would come during these times. You enjoyed it. A break. But with breaks came no money being made.

The owner was generous enough to let you and a few others stay in your private rooms and live there. You’ve been here for 5 years now. A job is a job. It paid enough for you to scrape by. Not that you really enjoyed it.

You got used to it quick. At least, as used to it as you could. As one could. At first, you were a nervous, naiive olive, but now you’re a stronger, almost street smart woman. You knew how to handle yourself, how you should be treated. Men knew now to respect you. To not try and get out of paying or overstep boundaries.

You drank often to hide any pain. Forget any and all traumas. You always were tipsy if it could be helped when it was time to work. It made it…easier. Lighter.

The brothel itself was nice. Spacious. Luxurious. A blind tiger as most described it. Disguised as just a fancy bar for any authority figures who passed by.

You got paid well because of this by each client but really only ever made just enough for rent some food and maybe a dress or something else. You weren’t too popular to get many clients. Most men you had were Soldiers from the war. Occasionally, if you looked nice enough, an egg or wealthy man. Most of them were married. Older. Drunks, whether it was a secret or not.

You didn’t care for them. They didn’t care for you more. It was just business.

But there was one man who was different. One man who stood out to you. Who made you feel something other than a deep disgust.

His name was Logan Howlett.

He was young seeming, never telling his age. He just got back from the war. Obviously worn down by the trauma he possibly witnessed. Eyes told it all as well like many other soldiers. He always drank. Sometimes smoked a cigar. But always went right up to you.

At first, you almost refused him. He was dirty, and swaying around. He gave you a damp crumpled up $50 and mumbled about your hips and eyes. He smelled a bit too-

But then he pulled out another $50. You were convinced now. $100! was alot. You’d choke this encounter down too.

But he was surprisingly good. He didn’t just fuck you. No. He made love to you. He was soft. Gentle. You were almost taken aback. He treated you like glass. He actually even licked your core, something 90% of your clients ignored. Until you came 3 times you didn’t see his manhood.

He fell asleep next you, exhausted and sad. He was a sad drunk. He told you how he wanted to marry you, how he wanted to run away from everything with someone. Most men would confess things to you either before or after. But you ignored a lot because they were often drunk, like Logan.

Logan logan logan.

His first encounter with you left an impression.

A week passed and you still couldn’t get him off your mind. It was almost depressing. And just when you felt like he’d never return, he did.

He walked in, head down. Sat at the bar for an hour just drinking. And then he looked for you. You didn’t go up to him, just to see how long he’d look before he settled for another. But he never did. He keep looking. Looking and looking and walking and walking.

Then he saw you and walked up to you quickly. A hug. A drunken, messy hug and kiss.

“I never got your name, dear..” He whispered. He could barely stand.

Did you want him to have your real or work name?

“It’s y/n.” You said softly.

“y/n……… y/n…” Logan repeated slowly. “Beautiful li’you. Pretty girl…”

You could barely hear him. He had his hand in your lower back that horribly distracted you. A soft, “your mine” hold. Possessive. Different from other men.

You started to love the taste of whiskey just because you always tasted it on his lips. You started to love the faint scent on cigar on his hairy chest. Dog tags hitting you in the face has he thrusted into you. The way he held you like you’d get away. Treated you like you weren’t just a couple of wet holes but a human. A woman. Even drunk he was somewhat of a gentleman.

You wonder why he chose you. Why did ever go to you. Did he go to other brothels too? He seemed infatuated with you and you him.

You told the other women about him after the fifth time. They barely believed you. A bit of jealousy filled the air as they were rarely, if at all, treated so lovely. No, everyone was just holes. Just holes. Eye candy and holes.

The next time Logan came some women tried to climb on him. They offered him discounts. You almost wanted to fucking spit. He wasn’t yours though so why did you feel like this?

It made you damn near giddy as you watched him shoo them away like flies. Almost disgusted. Like he was some virgin waiting for marriage. Like it was almost rude for women to act like that despite where he was. The women huffed and walked away, some back to their rooms and others to other men. A couple have you a glance or so but said nothing.

You just waited for Logan to come back to you and touch you and treat you like you were more.

You felt spoiled.

He really acted like you two were going together. You began to wonder if he was courting you in some odd way.

Rumors started amongst the women who cared that you two were dating and you almost got put out. The number one rule was to never date your clients. Ever.

You assured he was just stuck on you or something and it wasn’t your fault. That he paid you the best. Out loud you say money, in your head you say attention.

He certainly becomes all you think about. Oh yes. Ohhh yes. You started noticing little details. His beard that was sometimes shaven. His hair. How it smelled. How it was the only soft thing on him. His nose. He once confessed he hated it but you loved it. He let you ride it once. Amazing experience.

And was such a sex magician. That’s how’d you describe him anyways. He was awfully skilled. You really wondered if he got practice before you. And how much?

You learned bits and pieces about him after sex. He’d lay there and talk about the war. Why he drank sometimes. How me missed his family. How he wished he was “normal”. Normal huh.

You never spoke much. You didn’t have anything but this. Your home life and childhood was rough, obviously leading you here. You had no special talents or dreams really. You recently has some interest with becoming one of those flapper women. But he was the first bit of true excitement you had in a while.

Logan stopped coming for a while. This time you were sure he wouldn’t return. The first week was horrible. You laid in bed like a rag doll as men used you, thinking about how Logan would at least butter you up before anything started. You mindlessly counted money as you wondered where Logan could be. You drank and drank to try and forget but he left such an impression on you it didn’t work.

The other women “comforted” you, but deep down we’re happy you were back to their level, with no special clients.

“You shouldn’t get so attached to the clients!”

“It was fun while it lasted huh now, sweets? Oh, i experienced the same thing.”

“An odd cat he was…maybe it’s for the best.��

You ignored it all. You didn’t care for any of that shit. Fuck it all. You just wanted him back.

Did he even care for you the way you did him? Would he even remember you? Did he? He was so drunk sometimes….you couldn’t tell if he cared at all. He remembered your name sure but that was it. You just couldn’t deny your feelings anymore.

These deep feelings.

Limerence.

There was passion that drove you crazy. You felt like you were going crazy.

Days blurred. Holidays passed. Men came and went. Take that both ways.

But this cold winter day, he returned. You were sitting on a stool, drinking again. It was just your 3rd.

You hear the door open and the little bell rang. Heavy footsteps. Leftover snow underneath crushing under boots. You turned around as you felt the presence behind you, getting ready to say your prices and hours assuming this man wanted your services.

However, you stopped mid breath as you turned and saw… “….Logan?”

He took his hat off and nodded. He quietly sat next to you and stared into your eyes. He was sober but had dark circles.

“I been busy you see..” He starts, his breath smells of straight cigar. “Th’s why i haven’t been around.”

You’re buzzed and you think you’re dreaming. You’re sure you look a mess right now.

“I missed you, Lo..” You whispered.

Logan looks away. He sighs. He says nothing for a long while. It worried you. Did you cross a boundary? Was it too far?

“That’s the issue, doll.”

Logan turns to look you in the eyes, brows furrowed. Your heart rate picks up but you felt a heartbeat elsewhere after the nickname came out his mouth. Doll..

“Wait-” You start but he puts a finger to your lips.

“You are a prostitute baby. I’m…a mess. A drunk vet. Addicted to giggle water. You don’t want me. It don’t make sense. We’ve gotten too deep into this. I come for a quick fuck and then back to reality as it should be. You don’t want this, pretty..”

You feel your heart break. You sober up a bit too.

“It don’t feel quick to me. You treat me like i’m human. You the only one.” Your voice cracks a bit. You are also a sad drunk most days so the alcohol was not helping you process this situation properly.

Logan has an unreadable look on his face. He shakes his head soon after and licks his lips. He’s thinking. Maybe you caught him off guard? The lobby was suddenly very quiet even though it’s been like that the whole time. Just you, Logan and the bartender. There was a woman in the corner but she was preoccupied with a man herself, paying no mind to you or Logan.

You want to puke.

“Logan-”

“Close your head, woman. You stuck on me or something?” He says a bit sharp.

You just nod biting your lip. Suddenly you’re drunk again. The room is spinning a bit and you couldn’t sit straight with a constant nagging to go hysterical.

“We can’t keep doing this. We just can’t.” He says not looking you in the eye anymore. “We can’t.”

“Oh, applesauce…why not?”

“Because we can’t. You listening? You must be zozzled. Listen to me, you don’t want this. I’m telling you.”

“But, i do want you. It’s all i want now. You’re all i want now. Please, Lo. Don’t leave me here.”

“Y/n…”

“I want to be more than this.” You spit out. Logan freezes. He almost looked scared for a second. A tear falls out your eye as Logan gets up swiftly after you say it.

“Goodbye, y/n.”

You say nothing. He hands you a $100 and tells you to buy something nice. You watch, sadly, as he goes out the door.

You swivel back around.

“I need everything this can buy please.” You hold up thr $100 to the bartender. He looks at you like you have two heads but starts getting many cups out.

You’re going to be drinking for days.

[podiumackles]

the moments that stay (they turn out all wrong)

In which the man she could never forget suddenly turns up at her cell, but he has no remembrance of the woman in front of him. And the moments that stayed with her for decades, turn out to be her memories only.

series masterlist

CHAPTER 4

A/N: This one took me a while, but I'm back! I've been to two comic cons in a row, and I've just been so busy with work as well, so my writing motivation was little to none. But here's part 4! English isn't my first language!! apologies in advance.

Outlines: After being his sidekick in Payback for years, you-better known as your supename Fury-ended up on the same end of Soldier Boy's violence as every other person. What you didn't realise, however, was that your old team had set you both up for betrayal, right when you thought you were helping them in getting him. After decades of being stuck in Vought's testing lab, you heard Soldier Boy got out. But the man who appeared in front of your cell wasn't the man you knew.

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of gore, mentions of blood, mentions of death, soldier boy (yes, this man should be considered a warning), and possibly wrong storytelling in lines of the canon events. I'm not that good at remembering, guys. and the boys was just kinda complicated. forgive me.

Present

It was only a couple of minutes later when Butcher finally broke the dreading silence, but your mind had raced through a timespan of hours. “We need to get out. Get up, love.”

A tight grip fastened around your right upper arm, lifting you urgently but with slight care. Your eyes barely left the horror scene of several guts splashed against the walls in the hallway, body parts scattered around the floor, and in the back of your mind, you remembered the two decapitated bodies Ben had been the cause of.

The air felt electric, the smell of smoke burning through your nostrils and finding the dreaded way towards your throat. You could barely believe it was your doing, but there was no denying the destruction that lay in your wake.

Ben stood rooted to the spot near the door, his shield lowered but still gripped tightly. His eyes flicked toward you, and for the first time, the cold indifference you had become accustomed now labelled as fear. And it frightened you because, for a second, you got the feeling he would lash out like he did all those years ago.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on it.

“No,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. “I need you to tell me what happened.”

You could barely recall the moment you lost control, the power that had surged through you. But the aftermath was all too real. You stared at your trembling hands, electricity still sparking between your fingers, the residual energy crackling like a distant storm.

Ben didn’t respond. The tension between the men hung in the air like a ticking time bomb.

“Like I said, we need to move,” Butcher said, his voice gruff as he pushed away from the terminal. “We’re locked down for now, but Vought’ll be on our arses soon enough. Let’s get the fuck outta ‘ere.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. The adrenaline from the fight was fading fast, replaced by a gnawing fear—of yourself, of the power you’d just unleashed. You could feel it, the wild storm inside of you. You had no idea what had triggered it or if you could control it again. And judging by the way Ben was looking at you, he wasn’t too sure either.

As the three of you moved out of the control room and into the hallway, the facility felt strangely empty, the echoes of your destruction trailing behind you like a shadow. But you knew better. Vought wouldn’t give up that easily.

Ben walked ahead, his broad frame cutting a path through the blood-splattered hallway, but his movements were more cautious now. The confidence and rage that usually simmered beneath his surface were subdued as if he was watching you closely, waiting for you to lose control again.

You didn’t blame him.

Everything was silent. Too silent.

You just wanted either of the men to scream at you- put you back in that cell as a result of their fears.

But none of it came.

Butcher, ever the pragmatist, kept his focus on the exit, but even he glanced at you from time to time, something unspoken in his gaze. He had seen supes use their powers before—hell, he’d fought against them—and while he wasn’t afraid, he certainly wasn’t going to let his guard down around you. Not anymore.

“Oi,” Butcher muttered as you approached the final set of doors that led to the outside. “You good? That little light show back there—gonna happen again?”

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the trembling in your hands. “I don’t know.” you admitted, hating how uncertain your voice sounded. You didn’t want to make yourself weak.

But with the way you lashed out, you didn’t think either of the two would think you were weak.

Except maybe Ben.

Because he thought you were a lab rat.

Butcher raised an eyebrow. “Well, now’s not the time to go rogue on us, love. We still gotta make it outta ‘ere in one piece.”

You bit back a retort, knowing he was right. But his words only fuelled the fear already building inside you. You weren’t sure what this would mean for you.

Ben stopped at the door, glancing back at the two of you. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than necessary. “You sure you aren’t going to fucking kill us?” he asked, his voice gruff and unkind.

And you knew then. He didn’t think you were weak.

He thought you were a monster.

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. “Fuck if I know.”

For a moment, the three of you stood in silence, the distant wail of sirens and alarms a constant reminder that your time was running out. Then Ben nodded, accepting your answer without further comment. He shoved the door open, leading the way into the cold night air outside the facility.

The wind hit your face like a slap, fresh air filling your lungs like the first glass of burning whiskey on a night out. You felt exhausted, nearly falling to your knees at the spot. You glanced up at the night sky, stars barely visible through the haze of city lights, and took a deep breath. For the first time in decades, you were free.

But freedom came with a cost.

And you weren’t sure you could pay it.

Ben and Butcher kept a steady pace as they made their way through the fallen snow, the white burning into your eyes like you’d just stared at the sun, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at you.

The facility was behind you, but Vought’s reach extended far beyond those walls. And as much as you wanted to believe the worst was over, you knew better.

This was only the beginning.

As the three of you approached the extraction point, the sound of distant helicopters filled the air, and you could already see the headlights of Vought’s vehicles in the distance, closing in fast. There would be no rest, no time to process what had happened. Not yet.

A black van stood in the dim light of the moon, right behind the final passage of your imprisonment. The two men ran towards it, making you realise this was their transport. You tried to bite through your exhaustion, your pain, but it was to no avail.

Right as you saw a figure leave the vehicle, you fell to your knees on the ice-cold ground- the joined snowflakes burning your knees through your pants.

But you could barely pay it any mind.

The figure from the van moved quickly, their boots crunching through the snow as they approached you. It soon took the shape of a scrawny-looking man, but he couldn’t have been much older than thirty. A slight stubble caressed the lower half of his face, and a few fluffed pieces of hair came from under his beanie.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, feeling the last of your adrenaline slipping away, the cold seeping into your bones. You could barely make out Butcher’s voice, barking orders at the newcomer, but it all sounded distant, muffled by the ringing in your ears, the sounds of the helicopters. Even the weather couldn’t give you strength this time.

But amongst the sounds you could vaguely hear, Soldier Boy’s voice was not one of them.

“Stay with us,” the newest person said, their voice unsurprisingly gentle as they knelt beside you. A hand gripped your arm, steadying you. You tried to focus on them, but the edges of your vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the corners.

About two more people left the van, but you didn’t have any energy to analyse them.

A face appeared above yours, concern etched into their face. “You’re not dying on us,” they growled, and their care confused you. You didn’t even know them. “We need you to hold it together.”

And you tried. God, did you try.

You weren’t weak.

You weren’t pathetic.

And most of all, you weren’t going to make a fool of yourselves.

So, instead of succumbing to the darkness that had crept into your mind, you looked up at the broad figure and focused on his kind, but demanding eyes. Three men held you up, and you could vaguely make out the figure of your former companion getting into the back of the van without a word.

You were helped up into the vehicle, and for a moment you felt like the fool you were afraid to become. You were a supe. A soldier. There shouldn’t have been any need to get lifted into a van by three men.

Taking your place near the backdoor, you lifted up your legs and wrapped your arms around them to keep yourself warm. You tried to summon the power of the sun, the warmth of fire. But all you got was electricity. Cold, prickling electricity.

Looking out the back window, you tried everything not to make any eye contact with the people around you, as the last person stepped inside and closed the side door.

The air was thick with tension and a strange, almost hesitant feeling of understanding. You slumped further against the cold metal side, feeling the slight vibrations as the van roared to life and sped away from the facility. Every bump on the road sent jolts of pain through your body, but you bit down the groans that threatened to escape.

The scrawny man from earlier sat beside you, his gaze flitting between you and Soldier Boy, who sat in the far corner on the other side of the vehicle, keeping his eyes trained out the window as well. He didn’t acknowledge you, but his silence spoke volumes.

Butcher, sitting directly across from you, watched you carefully, his gaze flicking between the sparks still dancing faintly along your hands and your exhausted expression. He was assessing, weighing whether you were still a threat.

“Listen,” Butcher’s voice cut through the quiet, “I don’t give a rat’s arse if you’re feelin’ sorry for yourself. We need you sharp if we’re gonna get through this alive. That means no more ‘accidents,’ got it?”

His tone was harsh, but beneath it was a sliver of something else—almost like concern. Or at least, as close to concern as Butcher could ever muster.

You managed a nod, barely meeting his eyes.

Part of you was angry.

Angry at yourself, angry at Butcher.

But most of all, angry at Ben.

Because how the fuck could he walk around, swinging that shield like it’s nothing, without a single memory of you lingering inside his mind?

You bore your memories. You were burdened with them.

But now, you bore his, too.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” You decided to speak up, deciding to no longer make a fool of yourself. Truth was, you had no idea if you could keep the outburst from happening again. The power felt wild inside you, like a caged animal ready to break free the moment you lost your grip.

You turned away, focusing instead on the faint vibration of the van as it rumbled along a rough road. The cold had settled deep into your muscles, making you shiver uncontrollably. It felt like you’d never be warm again.

Butcher, noticing your discomfort, threw a blanket your way, which you caught with clumsy hands. “Don’t say I never do nothin’ for ya.” he muttered. There was no softness in his tone, but it wasn’t entirely unfriendly either. Maybe he didn’t hate you—yet.

He was the one who wanted to get you out of there, anyway.

For his own damn purposes, that is.

You wrapped the blanket around yourself, trying to gather your thoughts. “What is this about?” you asked, not sure if the only thing they’ve done was lie to your face. “The truth, this time.”

Ben switched his gaze towards you instantly, sending you a look that was close to a death glare. And you were the stupid one who locked eyes with him at that moment.

And at that point, you missed his caring gaze. His words that only you had gotten in the past. The person he cared enough for to catch a bullet to the head.

Until he didn’t.

Butcher tilted his head, sending Ben a daring glare, which caused him to look away.

“Butcher’s got a thing for picking up strays.” Soldier boy spoke sternly, absently averting his gaze back outside, his eyes trembling as they followed their surroundings.

You broke your stare towards Ben, and you could sense the weight of his words passing towards you. You were just another stray to them. And you weren’t sure what that meant.

Butcher still didn’t answer. Either he didn’t have one, or he didn’t want you to know about it.

The silence inside the van thickened, each unspoken word a weight pressing down on you. Ben's brief outburst still echoed in your mind, the sharpness of it reminding you just how far you'd fallen from the fragile trust you thought you’d shared with him. He wouldn’t even look at you now, the distance between you as icy as the snow you’d collapsed into earlier.

Butcher leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. It was like he was weighing whether to trust you with more—or if it was safer to keep you in the dark.

Finally, he spoke up, his voice low. “We’ve got a little operation. Some resources, a few people who ain’t fond of being Vought’s lapdogs,” you noticed a slight tremble in his voice. One a regular person wouldn’t have noticed. “We just needed one more backup- someone who knows all about the company. You.”

You clearly felt like it was a lie.

A straight-up, fully thought-out lie.

Butcher’s words grated against your nerves, the blatant half-truth curling like smoke in the air between you. It was too clean, too practised. You could see the calculation behind his eyes—what he was willing to share and what he wasn't.

You raised an eyebrow, letting the silence stretch out uncomfortably as you locked eyes with him. “Just needed backup, huh?” you echoed, your voice cutting through the tension in the van like a blade. “And it just so happened that your ‘backup’ was locked in one of Vought’s prisons?”

Butcher’s jaw tightened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. He didn’t like being called out, but he didn’t deny it, either. “Look, it’s more complicated than that,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his bearded chin. “Vought’s got their hands in everything. Any chance to screw with ‘em, we take it. You were there, we got you out. Simple as.”

Ben scoffed, turning his head toward you. His gaze was sharp, scrutinizing. “Yeah, and it’s not like you’ve got anywhere better to be, do you?” His voice was harsher than you remembered as if all the warmth you once thought you saw in him had been stripped away, leaving only the bitterness behind. “Or would you rather be back in that cell?”

You clenched your hands into fists beneath the blanket, feeling the sparks crackle faintly against your skin. It was a good reminder that you were far from powerless, even if you felt lost. But you held the charge back, not wanting to give them any more reason to doubt you—or fear you. “I don’t know what I want,” you admitted quietly, and the honesty of the words stung. “But I know I don’t trust any of you. Not yet.”

Butcher gave a rough chuckle, but it lacked humour. “Yeah, well, join the club. We’re not here to make friends, love. Just keep your head down, and don’t fuckin’ lose it in the process.”

You looked away, your mind racing with the implications of this uneasy alliance. The cold seeped through the metal walls of the van, biting at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the chill in Ben’s gaze. He had been your ally once, your only friend in the darkness. Now, you couldn’t tell if he’d ever been on your side at all.

As the van bumped along the dark road, the tension between all of you settled into a heavy, uncomfortable silence. But despite everything, one thought gnawed at you, refusing to be silenced.

Whatever Butcher’s real reason was for pulling you from that cell, it was more than just needing an extra set of hands. And you would find out what it was—one way or another.

A/N: as always, feedback is appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @demodemo909 @deangirl96 @mostlymarvelgirl @n-o-p-e-never @daisydark @mxltifxnd0m @lamentationsofalonelypotato

[coldswarkids]

i only wrote 194 words today, but that is 194 words more than i have written in the past 3 weeks so i am telling myself that is good enough so that i can go to bed on time. 😭

[thebrainrotsreal]

BACK ON MY INVINCIBLE MLP CROSSOVER JOY!!! I love this crossover smmmm, my soul is happy, cured even, treated of all possible ills. For Andressa's species, instead of relying on a horn for magic (which they don't have), every filly is bestowed a gem for magic! AND, because I want it, Oliver has some winks to Andressa's designs with the swirls on his legs mimicking the lines on hers, sharing a thinly tail, tiny little bumps like spikes, and the curls sorta kinda maybe like her antennae (if you squint and believe, which you should). Andressa and Oliver ilysm. Best purple pony on the planet tbh, sorrry not sorry Twilight Sparkle :/

Bonus drawing of Oliver trying to practice magic by lifting a sheet of paper, he's trying his best, ok???

[nostalgia-tblr]

loki/william rufus fic, where bill explains that as the second son he has inherited england while big brother bob only got the duchy of normandy, ha ha ha.

[audiovisualrecall]

This is a start, anyway. Lots of research and work ahead.

[tardis--dreams]

Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care

[icewindandboringhorror]

[coridallasmultipass]

I am once again begging online shop payment processing companies to allow me to enter a separate name for shipping and separate name for billing!!

It's the same address, I'm just trans and have not legally changed my personal name, but I still prefer to receive mail as my preferred name! Like it's literally my professional name, I do business as my preferred name.

Annoying as fuck, and I don't want to chance my bank rejecting the payment (though I'm sure someone at my bank has put a note to allow it on my account by now, since I've contacted them a couple times before when I realized too late that the billing section didn't let me input another "address/name" section, and they said the payment was fine in those cases.)

Anyway, legal name changes should be free and non-advertised for everyone. Tbh, you should get a free name change every time you file your taxes on time as an incentive for good citizen behaviour. Once I am elected pres-

[faaun]

the way my heart sank . lol

[copiawife]

there's something about like. copia just really pushes himself he works so hard to make the band the best it can be and even before that he rose through the ranks of the clergy biting and clawing his way to the top and he's just so desperate to prove himself, that he's worthy of all the adoration and praise lauded by fans, that he's worthy of his position, that he isn't where he is by mere happenstance. he's not someone who's comfortable when he's not working on something. he can come off to people as kind of standoffish at first but it's because he's just always kind of preoccupied with what's next. he just carries a lot of anxiety and stress with him, a lot of self-doubt, i suppose, although generally you wouldn't know because he keeps it to himself.

i'd like to think i could be a calming presence for him. convincing him to take breaks and really try to just focus on the moment. and hey, that's hard for me too, trust me, but we can work on it together! i would want him to feel comfortable talking to me about his anxieties, his hopes, his fears. i just want to comfort him and make sure he knows that i love all of him, not just what he chooses to show the world, not just papa emeritus iv, but copia. i think a lot of his self-assurance comes purely from himself, since everyone around him tends to talk down about him, and so to have someone truly in his corner is a new experience. but of course, he has moments where his self-doubt comes creeping back in, in spite of all he's achieved, all of the respect and adoration he gets from his peers and from fans and from me, sometimes he feels like once again he has to prove to himself that he deserves that, because on a base level he doesn't feel as if he doesn't. sometimes he might think that he doesn't deserve me or i'm too good for him, which seems seems wild to me, because i mean. look at him! but sometimes he does feel that way, that he's taking advantage of me or that i would be happier with someone else, and i reassure him that i don't want to be with anyone but him, anywhere else but with him. and i share some of my own self-doubt, that i feel like he could have anyone he wanted, and the fact that he chooses to be with me of all people is astounding to me. i want to relieve his stress, to make him feel more confident and happy and proud of himself.