#i went home and cried thinking i had been stupid enough to get brainwashed by Big Academia

[tacozebra051]

s1

i’m watching this documentary about halloween and there’s a part where they’re explaining that ghost stories got really popular around the civil war no one could really deal with how many people went off and died and

the narrator just said 

“the first ghost stories were really about coming home”

fuck 

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Nosy

Summary: The team notices Bucky sneaking off the compound every weekend. Now they’re standing outside of an apartment in Brooklyn while Redwing spies out the window.

Warnings: Language, smut, sex tape, daddy kink

Pairings: Bucky x Black!Reader

(A/N: This is a rewrite of Bucky’s Secret Life because 😬. Anyway enjoy. Likes and reblogs are great thanks.)

“C’mon, aren’t you a little curious?”

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes as Tony nudged him. Bucky had been acting a little stranger than usual. If they didn’t have a mission he was leaving in the evening on Friday to come home Sunday nights. This had become a weekly basis kind of thing to the point where he didn’t even show up to parties unless it was something completely mandatory.

It’s not like Steve had never asked him about it. Bucky was his best friend and of course he was curious why he was so hush hush. He hadn’t been expecting for him to freeze up and stutter his way around giving him any details. 

It was killing Sam the most because of course he was nosey as hell and between the three of them, he hated not being in the know. Natasha was even curious. Wanda kind of knew, but that’s because she couldn’t help the things she saw. Besides it wasn’t her place to tell. 

Because what Wanda had been seeing when she’d get a glimpse into his mind were filthy. Absolutely fucking filthy. The images flashing into her mind of him and the same naked woman that he was doing unspeakable things to. It played like porn, but they were clearly memories. She stayed quiet because it was none of her business.

“Why don’t we mind our own business,” Bruce suggested. “Bucky’s been through a lot. Maybe he’s just unwinding.”

“Bruce is right.” Steve smiled at the scientist, appreciative at him for speaking up.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, shrugging her shoulders. “Is he, though?” She replied. “What if he’s doing something dangerous. He could still be having issues.”

“True,” Rhodey finally giving his input from his spot at the table beside Tony. “We would rather be safe than sorry.”

Steve groaned. “Fine.”

Steve reluctantly trailed behind Natasha, Sam, and Tony as they followed Bucky the next weekend. They went about their day as normal as possible. They didn’t want him to get suspicious. As soon as he’d left they had Friday give them the word so they could make their move after. Sam had even had Redwing follow after him. 

“Guys, Bruce is right. We should leave it alone,” Steve tried to reason with them as they’d finally ended up outside of an apartment in Brooklyn. 

“No,” Sam said, as they tried to act nonchalant waiting for someone to open up the door. “We’re here let’s do this.”

Bucky placed his hands underneath your ass, balancing himself as he rammed into you. Your hands were splayed above your head as you took it. For someone who literally couldn’t get drunk he found something so intoxicating with the way your breasts bounced with each thrust. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned down to capture your nipple in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the brown nub.

You could feel yourself getting so close, but you weren’t allowed to come without permission. Since you weren’t in the mood to be punishes you obeyed him. You wanted to be a good girl for him this weekend after the way he’d made it hard for you to sit after you acted like a brat last time.

You’d made dinner, but it had been abandoned in favor of him dicking you down. He just couldn’t wait any longer to have your tight pussy wrapped around his dick. The plan was supposed to be a romantic evening with a home-cooked meal like you usually did on Friday nights. Saturday’s were usually for junk food as you spent the day either binge watching shows and fucking. It was the routine when he wasn’t busy with work.

It sucked that it felt like you’d never have a life outside of this apartment, but Bucky only needed a little bit longer. He needed to make sure there was nothing that could hurt you once your relationship became public. He’d seen to many romances end in tragedy and it scared him. He’d be damned if something bad happened to you.

His cock was stretching you wide open. “Fuck me, Daddy,” you moaned, leaning up so you could wrap your arms around his neck and then press your lips to his. He didn’t let up as he let you fall onto your back. He moved his hands from your ass to your legs to bring your knees to your chest.

He was so much deeper in this angle. Your head was swimmings you moaned into his ear, throwing your head back. “God, yes!”

“That’s it, Doll,” he moaned, leaning down to kiss you again. His tongue was in your mouth and you struggled to keep up because of how hard he was fucking you. Fuck you love it when you were at his mercy. In these moments it felt like he owned every inch of you.

The knock on the door brought the two of you out of your bubble. Bucky didn’t let up, though, hoping that whoever it was would get the hint and leave when you didn’t answer. He needed to make his girl cum first. Whoever was on the other side could wait.

She nodded with a whimper, feeling too blissed-out to even do anything, except for what you were told. You were so close. The way you tightened around him. Pussy hugging his dick like it was afraid to let go. You whined as your juices seeped out of you.

“Can I cum?” You whimpered out. 

“Yeah, Doll.” He grinned down at you through his pleasure. He couldn’t help himself. You were to damn cute like this. All spread open taking every inch of him. Those noises sounding so good coming out of your mouth as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

You cried out, hips moving to meet his thrusts. That coil finally snapped in your stomach as you came around him. Metal wrapping around your neck while your fingernails dug into his back,

He was determined to make you cum again. Except there was another knock on the door. This one louder, angrier. Bucky groaned, irritated already at whoever was interrupting. “Fuck,” he mouthed, jaw clenching. “I’ll get it. You stay right here, okay.”

You nodded unable to use your words as he pulled out. He covered you with the duvet, kissing your forehead lovingly as if he hadn’t just rearranged your guts. He slid on a pair of sweats and a red t-shirt - yes he kept clothes at your apartment. It was easier so he didn’t have to pack anything. Besides he knew you were wearing his hoodies when he wasn’t around. Yes even though you spent most of your time together naked, it was just more convenient.

Your head was resting on your pillow as you watched him walk through the door with half-lidded eyes. A dopey smile had spread across your face, snuggling under the covers as you waiting for him to come back.

Bucky looked through the peephole, then backed up seeing Steve on the other side. “What the fuck...”

“Bucky, c’mon, we know you’re in there,” the blond said through the door.

“We?” He frowned before opening it, but not undoing the chain. He could peek out just enough to see Natasha who was standing beside him with a little bit of Sam behind her and what he assumed was Tony next to him by the sudden waft of Axe Body Spray. “What are you doing here?”

Tony huffed. “Just let us in.”

He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You guys should leave.”

“We’re just making sure you’re okay,” Nat said, trying to at least get a glimpse inside. It looked like a normal apartment, but Bucky’s body was blocking whatever else she could see.

“Gotta make sure you aren’t doing anything dumb,” Sam said.

“We were worried,” Natasha added.

Bucky scrunched up his face even more. “Worried about what?”

Just then you screamed from the bedroom. Bucky’s heart dropped as he heard you because if anything had ever happened to you he’d probably murder someone. His first thought was that they followed you which led to someone following them as he ran back to the bedroom. 

You were standing there with one of your many throw blankets covering you. So you were okay. As he walked over to you, he grabbed your hand. “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

“There’s something in the window,” she breathed, now standing behind him for cover. Whatever it was, her super soldier serum, metal armed boyfriend could take care of it.

They finally felt victorious as Bucky fully opened the door. Until Redwing was thrown out. “Sam, what the fuck!”

“Hey!” The other man gasped, seeing his beloved bird on the ground before picking it up to cradle it into his arms.

“Who was that?” Natasha asked with a smirk on her face now. 

“My girlfriend! I’ve been seeing someone! Is that a crime.” He threw his hands up. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to date.”

Steve raised his eyebrows and sighed. “See I told you guys this was stupid.”

Tony pouted, crossing his arms like he was disappointed. “I was so sure you were being brainwashed again. I was actually ready for a little action.” 

“It’s not his brain being washed,” Sam said with a similar smirk to the one Natasha wore before frowning as he looked down at the slightly broken Redwing. Bucky wanted to hit him so bad.

“Baby, is everything okay?” You asked, walking into the room with wobbly legs after hearing her boyfriend raise his voice.You’d slipped on the matching sweatshirt to his sweatpants. It was really baggy. Hitting you mid-thigh. All he could think suddenly was that god you better be wearing panties. Or else you’ll be getting that punishment you’d been trying to avoid this weekend.

“Yeah, Doll. They were just leaving.” His face softened. Although you saw him in a sexy dominating way, you never saw him genuinely angry. Even the few times you’d argued he never even raised his voice. He was so afraid of scaring you away that when he was around he softened himself. So now that you were so close he had to show a little restraint.

“So, this is her!” Sam asked, surprised as hell at seeing that Bucky really was hiding a girlfriend. “Hi, I’m Sam and you are?”

“Y/N,” you replied, politely, offering up a small smile. Yet on the inside you actually wanted to run and hide. This was not apart of the plan for when you finally met everyone. Besides you probably looked like shit after what Bucky had just done to you.

“I’m Natasha!” The red head chirped so unlike herself leading the four men to look down at her like she’d grown another head.”This is Steve and Tony.” 

It wasn’t very often that Tony Stark was speechless, but there he was as quiet as a mouse. All because the tin man had a girlfriend. A cute brown skinned girlfriend who was wearing his clothes. 

“Doll, why don’t you wait for me in the room,” Bucky said. “I’ll be there in a minute.” 

“Okay, D- Bucky...” you caught yourself leaning over to kiss his cheek before doing as you were told. 

He stared at her to make sure she got in the room before opening his mouth again. “Now will you leave. I’ll deal with you all and we can maybe have a team meeting about how important privacy is.” He glared at Tony who loved those little meetings about whoever was putting coffee grounds into the sink.

It was Vision.

Obviously.

At first. 

Until it became a fun little game for everyone to do to irritate the shit out of him. It was terrible yes, but his reactions were so, so, so entertaining.

The three grumbled to each other as they started to walk away, while Steve stood there shaking his head. “Sorry about this, Buck. I told them to leave you alone, but you know how they can be.”

“It’s fine.” He sighed. “I was just hoping to keep her all to myself for a little while.”

“She seems nice,” he said.

“She’s amazing,” he had to stop himself from gushing about you because he hadn’t been able to before and he was pretty sure he could go on for hours.

Steve couldn’t help, but smile. “I’m glad to see you happy.” After all the shit Bucky had been through it was nice to see him adjusting. 

The two finally said their goodbyes and Bucky finally got to shut the door. He went back to finish what he’d started with you, needing to make sure you were wearing panties under that sweatshirt before coming out to greet his friends. He knew you could be a little tease and you needed to be put in your place.

Steve jogged to catch up to his three nosey teammates who were almost out of the entrance of the building. He really was happy for Bucky. He deserved to be happy.

When they’d made their way back home, Sam decided to review the footage on Redwing while in the kitchen. At first, it was just the general views of him walking down the street and then the subway. “Well, at least we know Bucky is boring.” 

Steve looked over his shoulder shrugging at the footage that was just Bucky walking to your place. “You should probably just delete it now.”

Sam fast-forwarded it as his friend got to your apartment, punching in the code to be let in. “I dunno, it’s kind of funny to see Bucky walking around like a normal person.”

“And, he never noticed Redwing??” Steve asked as Natasha came to peek with them.

“That’s kind of weird. I would think Bucky would be more aware of his surroundings,” she noted.

Sam shrugged. “Clearly no-” he stopped speaking as he saw what the camera had suddenly focused on.

“We should probably talk to him about that,” Natasha said, taking a bite out of her protein bar. “We should invite her here, though. It’d be nice to have another girl around. Me and Wanda get so bored listening to you guys sometimes.”

Sam’s mouth went into a straight-line while his eyes widened watching as you the women he’d only met for five minutes had gotten on her knees with Bucky’s metal hand grabbing you by the hair stuffing his cock down your throat. Your nose was pressed to his pelvis as he held you there before he started fucking your mouth. 

“What is it?” Steve asked, quickly noticing how silent Sam went. 

Natasha leaned over to take another look at Sam’s screen just as Bucky had pulled you off to toss you on the bed and smack your ass. “What the... Sam! Delete it!” She gasped seeing Bucky impale you with his cock from behind, smacking your ass again.

You were very clearly enjoying how rough he was being with you as you bounced back against him, arching your back so you could take it.

“I’m trying! It’s not letting me!”

“What is it?” Steve asked, now looking again himself, seeing you the women he’d just met being fucking railed by his best friend. Bucky was saying something that they couldn’t make out, but the way he’d stopped moving only for you to buck back against him, it must have been absolutely filthy. “What the hell!”

“I didn’t know!” 

“Make sure it gets deleted.” Steve sounded so exhausted. If they’d listened to him in the first place this wouldn’t have even happened. 

“I’m trying!” He repeated, pressing different buttons on the panel.

“It’s kind of hot actually,” Natasha surprised them with saying. “I wasn’t really expecting Bucky to be like this.”

“What were you expecting?” Sam asked stopping to look at Natasha with his face all scrunched up.

Neither of them had ever seen her blush, but there she was. Face almost as red as her hair. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about him since the Red Room.”

“Wait, what?” Both of them asked, but Natasha had already started to walk away from them as if she hadn’t even said anything. Or like she hadn’t just seen a video of Bucky fucking you raw. They didn’t see the glazed over look in her eyes as she let her imagination run wild.

“What’d you guys f-” Tony asked, right when Bucky had flipped you onto your back with his hands under your ass, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth. “What... the fuck... actually... wow...”

“I know. I think I might ask Bucky if she has a sister or something.”

“All of you are monsters,” Steve said. Inside he was very intrigued, but he wasn’t about to say that outloud. “Make sure it gets deleted.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Sam said with a sighed.

“Captain Buzzkill.” Tony pouted.

[ginanosakka]

Mistakes Were Made

Masterlist

You’re Wrong | Next

“Ryu. .” You trailed off but you couldn’t find the words that would stop the tears pooling in his eyes.

He looked so hurt.

“Tell me, mom! Is Dynamight my dad?!” Ryu yelled, the tears finally spilling over as he pointed an accusing finger at you.

You looked at Katsuki who looked just as lost as distraught as you did, his attention never leaving Ryu despite him not even looking at him. You were baffled in this situation; how did you become the villain again? You spent six years bettering yourself and doing all you could do to be the best mom for Ryu, but all it took was Katsuki coming into the picture to flip the script back to the original plot: the plot where everyone was against you.

“Yes, he’s your dad. . but you don’t understand-“ Ryu cut you off.

“I don’t understand what?! That you were lying about my dad?! He’s right here and he does want to meet me!” He yelled, and as blindsided as you were by this situation you still were his mother and he was getting out of control. It could easily cause him to react with his quirk out of impulse knowing the temper he inherited, and you’d be damned if Ryu talked to you like Katsuki talks to everyone else.

“Ryu L/N,” you snapped in a harsh tone. “I can understand that you’re very upset right now, but I won’t accept you speaking like you've lost your mind and forgotten that I am your mother.”

When you finished speaking the room fell silent. Ryu’s head bowed but you could see the tears hit the kitchen floor. This was all what you were trying to avoid with Katsuki and Ryu, all this frustration and anger that you wanted to brush under the rug has blown up, and you were on the receiving end of the blast. Looking at Katsuki, he just seemed to be watching deep in thought now rather than lost while watching you parent, but there was a look in his eyes after you said his full name that could only be described as discontent.

You sighed and rubbed your temple, “I think we should-“

“I hate you.”

With your heart in pieces in your hands and tears heavy in your eyes, you stormed into your father’s office heaving from the squeezing in your lungs. Your disheveled appearance shocked him enough to stop the paperwork he was doing, something that was a near impossible task, but that meant so little to you now that you’d think you never yearned for his attention in the first place.

“Why did you do it?” You asked, not waiting a second to let him compose himself.

Your father’s brows furrowed, “do what, sweetheart?”

“You bought them all. Everyone. . They only talked to me because you bribed them, they used me because of you!” You raised your voice, stalking closer to his desk and staring dead into his eyes despite the tears that were blurring your vision.

“Y/N. . . it’s not what you think-“ you cut him off.

“I think you ruined my life, and for what?! Am I always going to be some incapable child to you?! You expect me..,” you paused as a sob bursted through your lungs. “You expect me to be like mom and stay in your shadow forever. . I’m not going to do it.”

The only sound in the room was your sobs while you wiped away your tears aggressively to see him stand with an unimpressed look on his face. He was always so gentle with you, treating you like a delicate dove he locked in a golden cage, but in moments it seems like the cage was broken up and you were set free to see everything hidden before. Everything your father kept hidden in plain sight from you through money and affection was now visible, and you were scared and wounded by what you were seeing.

“I can apologize for buying your friends and that boy you like so much, but it seems you’ve forgotten your place. As long as my money and sacrifice is what keeps you warm at night and gives you a future you’d never even be able to comprehend on your own, you’ll do what I say and I won’t hear another word about it.” Your father commanded, his voice booming in the room and causing you to tighten your hands into fists. “Now, how about you go ask your mother to take you shopping to feel better? I’ll find you some new friends-“

“I hate you!” You cried, his words finally pushing you over the edge.

You didn’t want new friends that were bought for you, the fake meteorites you had were already haunting you. Every moment spent with Mina was like some forced business interaction to her, but to you it was your happiness. The love you had for Katsuki was probably a chore for him like he was working some part time job, and now he finally quit and told the truth; the truth of how gullible and brainwashed you were. No one cared about you, you were a pawn even to your own parents, and the moment you decided you didn’t want to play anymore you’d likely be on your own and disowned.

‘I’ll never forgive you, father.’

“Y/N! Y/N!” You blinked back to reality where Katsuki had you by the shoulders shaking you as gently as he could with his naturally rough nature.

Katsuki jumped into the scene when those words fell from Ryu’s mouth, telling him how it wasn’t right and he should apologize as calmly as he could. It wasn’t like the little blonde boy needed a lecture from his twin by blood, he looked like he regretted it the moment he said it. Katsuki half expected you to attack the child like his mother did to him, her ruthless tactics still haunting his brain to this very day, but he could tell you were nothing like that. He hadn’t been around you long, but your world was so obviously centered around his son that it made his stomach turn when he thought about what he said about taking him away from you.

What he didn’t expect whatsoever was for you to completely space out in front of them, staring into the wall with such a pained expression he was worried you were somehow physically wounded by Ryu. The boy himself was in tears again while looking at you, wondering if he had hurt his mommy so bad that she couldn’t take it.

“Take him. Take Ryu with you to your home and take care of him for me. . okay?” You said blankly, even with the numbness that spread over your body you still cared about what happened to your son.

Bakugou nearly had a heart attack at your words, the panic of taking care of his child on his own when he just met them was nerve wracking, and he couldn’t comprehend what was going through your brain to trust him to do that. You looked so drained compared to mere minutes ago, and the hero in him was kicking into overdrive to save you from whatever the hell was going on inside your head.

“Don’t be stupid, dammit! I thought you were a good mother-“ Katsuki had never been silenced by a simple touch until your soft, warm hands grabbed onto his wrists that were still on your shoulders and looked him in the eyes showing how tired you were.

‘How is she doing this again?’ He thought angrily, the way his heart began to race the way it did when he was a teenager conflicting him once again.

“Please.” Was the only word that fell from your lips before you pried his arms off you and walked past him and Ryu out of the kitchen to your bedroom.

Katsuki stood there for a moment, unsure of where to go from here but knowing either way he’d be taking the kid he’d been waiting to see home with him. Ryu, no matter how upset he still was with you, was worried about that look on your face he’d never seen you make. The past and the present had finally met, and everything was becoming unclear and feelings were overwhelming. Luckily, if Katsuki learned anything from his mistakes in life; it was that there was always a way to make a better future.

Even if he didn’t know who you were anymore, or where that spoiled princess went, he was going to put everything he had into making this life work.

“Let’s get you home, kid.”

A/N: This took way too long for the length it is but the holidays have me working overtime. I hope you guys like it, and hopefully the next update will be a lengthy one by next week!

Also... THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS <3!!!!!!!!!!

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[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 33)

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

Word Count: 3826

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

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

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

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

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

When you told Spencer the next plan at lunch, he was neutral about it. He simply said,”Okay, guess we're going after work.” 

You frowned. It seemed the bliss you’d found shortly after you told Spencer you were a killer all those weeks ago had evaporated. Ever since he was with you killing, he’d been cold to you. So much for the plan working. 

But, you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Once this case was over, then you could work on your marriage. 

They let you out late, ordering everyone to get some rest, but you and Spencer high-tailed it to that remote cabin in the everglades. When you got there, you went inside to see if Jiminez was all bagged up and ready to go. 

However, when you arrived, Dexter was outside of the cabin panting, and inside, you heard someone shouting his name. 

Doakes. 

You ran up the porch and kneeled beside him. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, your hands going over him. He was wet, and when you got to his thigh, it was a warm wetness. You pulled your hand away, staring at the red liquid. 

“Uh, we need to talk,” he said, getting up to his feet with your help. He looked at you and spencer. “Long story short. Doakes found me. He saw me loading Jiminez. We fought. I knocked him out. Bullet went past my leg. He’s inside, just woke up.” 

Your eyes went wide. “You’ve got Doakes… held hostage?” 

“What the hell are you doing?” Spencer asked from behind you.

“That’s a good question. I don’t know. I panicked.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. “Well, get inside so I can look at you. You’re bleeding.” 

Spencer opened the door for you two while Dexter leaned on you and stumbled in. 

“What the fuck?” Doakes said. “You’re in on it? The FBI is in on this?”

“Not the FBI, just us,” you clarified, helping Dexter inside. “Pants off,” you ordered. If the wound was that high up on his thigh, pulling his pant leg up wouldn’t be an option. 

He didn’t hesitate to get the pants off, but he had to go slow or he’d tear at the blood that had already clotted. Spencer watched on, uncomfortable with all of this. 

“I can’t fucking believe this. You brainwashed two feds to help you? How long have they known?” he asked. 

No one answered him. 

“Ah, I see how it’s gonna be. Is it deep? I hope it’s fuckin’ deep,” he said, staring at the wound once Dexter got it exposed. Spencer had gotten you peroxide, gauze, and wrapping, dropping it at the table beside Dexter. You quitely thanked him. 

Dexter responded with the explanation of how the wound wasn’t fatal at all. 

“Sorry, but I think I’m gonna live,” Dexter answered. 

“Am I?” Doakes asked. 

“That’s a good question,” he responded.

You glanced up at him with a mingling of disapproval and worry. Was he really considering killing Doakes. Just after you gave him the look, you poured the peroxide over his wound, making him hiss. A look of apology came across your face. 

“If you’re not gonna let me go, Morgan, then kill me now. Just get it over with.”

“I’d advise you not to tempt me just now,” he sounded out through ground teeth. You set to work on applying the gauze gently but firmly as Dexter continued to talk to Doakes. “Why couldn’t you just leave me to do my work in peace? Why’d you have to go and ruin everything?”

“You’re a killer. I catch killers.” 

“So do I. I caught you,” Dexter responded. 

“I’m not a killer.” 

You were still wrapping his leg as he laughed and said, “You are. That’s why you’ve always known what I am. That’s why you have more officer-related shootings than anybody else. Only I don’t fuck with you when you shoot somebody. Why couldn’t you pay me the same professional courtesy.” 

 “There’s nothing professional about what you do,” Doakes fired back. 

You taped up the wrapping and stood up, next to Spencer so that Dexter could get his pants back on.

“I kill when I have to, on the job,” Doakes said. 

Your eyes flashed to Spencer’s, he returned the look, both of you acknowledging how this conversation sounded. It sounded like one you and he had had over and over.

“Oh, so it’s okay to take a life as long as you get a paycheck for it?” Dexter spat, getting into his pants.

“The city pays me to keep the law.” 

“I’ve got news for you, Sergeant. My code requires a higher standard of proof than your city’s laws. At zero cost for the taxpayer? If you ask me, I’m a bargain.”

One look at Spencer’s face told you he was unsettled by Dexter’s arguments against Doakes’s.

“That’s enough bullshit, Morgan. Let’s get this over with. Either kill me or set me free.”

“I actually think you’d like it if I killed you, just to prove our point,” he responded as he laced up his boots. 

“Morgan, you’ve got to choose.” 

“No, I need to go home. I’ve got guards standing outside my door to protect me from you.” 

Dexter gestured with his chin for you three to leave as Doakes shouted after him. 

“What’s it gonna be, Morgan?!” he yelled. ‘What about you, Feds? You’re goddamn FBI agents for Christ's sake?!”

He continued to yell as the three of you exited, Dexter closing the door. 

“So, what are we going to do?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest. 

“I’m not sure.”

“He keeps saying kill him or set him free,” Spencer noted. “He’s kind of right, those are the two choices.”

“They might be, but we need to weigh our options,” you suggested. 

“Weigh our options? Are you insane? We have to let him go!” Spencer demanded. 

“And destroy everything we’ve worked on? No. We need to think.” 

“He’s an innocent man!” he cried out. 

“Okay, look, I’m tired as hell. I need to dump Jiminez and go home before my protective detail finds out I’m gone. You two talk it over, and we’ll talk in the morning.” 

Then you parted ways with him. 

Spencer could barely talk on the ride to the hotel. He muttered out a few things like he couldn’t believe this was happening, this was getting a bigger mess every day. 

The two of you got inside the hotel and you started again. 

“Spencer, we have to think about every angle. Maybe killing him and setting him free arent our only two options,” you suggested. 

“We can’t just take the life of an innocent man, Y/N!”

This was it. You’d had it. He said he understood. You thought you were past all this. Clearly, he wasn’t, and you intended to get to the bottom of it. 

“So it’s ok for you to kill people. But when I do it, suddenly it’s a problem. Is it because the deaths don’t benefit you directly? Or is there some other reason? Are you mad you didn’t think of it first?”

“What are you even talking about? I’ve only ever killed because I had to, it was in the line of duty.”

“Everything except prison, right? You know, when you tampered with those drugs, you  could’ve killed a lot more people, but that didn’t really stop you, did it? So long as you could exact revenge. It could’ve killed people who were innocent in that prison, just like you, and you didn’t give it a second thought. Let’s see about your other killings. Hankel? Hotchner and Morgan were just feet away when they heard that gun shot. Morgan had told me. You were seconds away from being saved, but you shot him instead. What about Dowd? You told hotch you were aiming for the leg. I’ve read the report, but you shot a man in the head. The leg and the head are far off from one another.” Your eyes narrowed in accusation and anger. “Don’t tell me you never thought about it. Don’t tell me it’s never crossed your mind before. Don’t you dare tell me you haven’t tried to figure out a way to do it. Because I know you have. You have since the day Gideon died. So how about you get off your self righteous high horse and let’s deal with this like adults. You don’t get to judge me. And you certainly don’t get to judge him. You’re hands aren’t exactly clean either. So spare me the lecture.”

“Lecture? All I have done since you told me what you’ve done is protect you. JJ would love nothing more than to see you put away and I’ve hidden every part of your… hobby from her, from everyone. I didn’t turn you in. I barely even considered it.  I’m just mad you made a stupid decision, and one that excluded me. You didn’t even tell me you were thinking of doing it or going to do it. You just found some random blood analyst in Miami and partnered up with him. You think you felt betrayed by JJ, how do you think I felt when the biggest secret you’ve ever had, arguably the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done, you didn’t even consult me.”

“How could I? Do you honestly think you would’ve let me do this if I came to you? I knew you’d just shut me down. Because unless it benefits you in some way to kill, you think everyone is wrong. For you, they have to have been caught by the BAU, guilty in some way in the court system. Maybe that’s because it helps cover your tracks when you kill them. I’m sorry, Spence, but I’m not wired that way. I am sorry that I went behind your back to do this, and that it made you worry about my loyalty to you, but can you look me in the eye and tell me that if I came to you and said that Dexter had trained me to become a serial killer that you’d just nod and say, ‘Sure, go for it, honey’? No. You’d make me see the first available psychologist and it would be over before it started.”

“Well maybe it should’ve been! Then you wouldn’t be a killer and we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“Be in this mess? Do you have any idea how many lives Dexter has saved, that I’ve saved by doing this? Not to mention you going to prison. Those weren’t easy times, Spencer!”

“Is that what all this is? Payback for being framed? I couldn’t help that, Y/N! I was helping my mom!”

“I know that. I’m not saying any of it was your fault, per se. You were just doing what you thought was right, right? That’s all I was trying to do.”

“Don’t compare illegal drugs for my mom to you turning into an unsub.”

“Oh, so now I’m an unsub?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. When you first found out about me, you said you’d never see me that way. And now you’re calling me that. So which is it?”

“It’s neither! You’re my fucking wife. You’re my wife and you went to a random guy, ignoring me, your husband. You did this when our marriage was on the rocks, Y/N, what was i supposed to think? You were spending more time with him, ignoring me. I thought I was losing you to him. Every time I turn around, you’re defending him. Imagine if the shoe were on the other foot. How would you feel if I turned up and said some random woman was teaching me how to be a serial killer? Would you be so accepting of her? Would you feel like you could trust me again?”

In a quiet voice, you said, “The shoe has been on the other foot, Spence. You killed those people in prison, and I didn’t bat an eye. You slammed a pregnant Cat Adams against a wall and I didn’t bat an eye. I’ve only ever displayed mistrust in you when you kept something from me. If you couldn’t even tell me about JJ, how was I supposed to tell you about Dexter?” 

“Because I’m your husband. That’s how it works. He’s not. It makes so much sense why you were so threatened by JJ,” he started and you narrowed your gaze at him.

“Don’t even try to say I was projecting,” you fired back angrily. 

“That’s precisely what you were doing. You felt guilty about what you were doing down here in Miami and keeping it from me.” 

“You’re right! That’s the only fucking part I feel bad about is lying to you. The rest of it I would do it all again.”

“You want to know why I hate Dexter? This is why, right here. You’re cold. You never used to be this way. He’s turned you into this heartless, careless person.”

You shook your head as if it were absurd. “Spencer, you and I both know that’s not true. He didn’t make me do anything. I sought him out. Just because I’m killing people the BAU didn’t catch, doesn’t mean they aren’t guilty. You might get the luxury of shooting on the job and everyone praising you a hero, but it doesn't work like that for Dexter and me.”

“But it should!” he shouted, raising his voice. “Look what he’s doing, Y/N! He’s got an innocent man in a dead man’s cabin. What has he become? You’re always saying he’s not a monster, but he’s considering killing an innocent man.”

“No one said he was going to kill anyone. You just always assume the worst about him.” 

“Yes, and you always seem to compare me to him.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” he shot back evenly. “You keep saying we’re the same person. One of us just gets paid to kill.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“So? You don’t see the absolute lunacy of that accusation? I’m an FBI agent, Y/N. I’m paid, we are paid to keep the public safe from huge threats--”

“Just because Dexter doesn’t get paid doesn’t mean he isn’t doing the same thing we are.”

He shook his head. “We’re going in circles. I can’t believe you don’t see this! I can’t believe how you can’t decipher between an unsub and an FBI agent!” 

“I can! Dexter isn’t some random unsub! You keep fucking missing that!”

“His victimology doesn’t make him a good guy, Y/N! I can understand why you did what you did. It's the same reason I killed those guys in prison. You were fed up with the criminals and the justice system. I can get that. But Dexter is just doing it, just to do it. He gets off on it. And you keep comparing me to him and it’s pissing me off.”

“Can you honestly not see how it’s the same? The men you killed wasn’t in self defense. It was methodical, you planned it out, you did it so they didn't hurt any more inmates like your friend. But you could’ve killed any number of other people. You’ve shot unsubs when you didn’t need to. I’m not saying you’re exactly like Dexter, I’m saying that all three of us have these dark tendencies and we want to take them out on people we believe deserve it - mainly, criminals and unsubs.”

“Yeah, but instead of staying on the side of the law, you teamed up with an unsub.” 

“Slapping a label on him doesn’t change the fact that not that deep inside, all 3 of us have dark desires that we’ve fulfilled. You didn’t have to kill those guys in prison. You didn’t have to kill Hankel. That’s just some examples of times that you were compelled to kill intrinsically. So if you want to sit here and act like I’m completely insane for wanting to weigh our options with Doakes, then be my guest. But have you ever wondered why you and I are the best at catching serial killers on our team? Why I was able to track Dexter within a matter of weeks? It’s a lot more than getting inside the head of the killer. It’s having the mind of one. Now, do you ever wonder why out of everyone, Doakes picked up on the fact that Dexter is a killer? Funny coincidence or does Dexter just emit a radar to other killers?” 

Spencer shook his head, his eyes steeling on you. 

“I just wish you would see that you aren’t so different from Dexter and me and stop blaming him for everything.” You shook your head before sighing. “I guess none of that matters though. I can’t force you to see things my way. We just need to discuss what to do with Doakes. Since you’re adamant on not listening to me, we’ll just have to discuss it with Dexter, whether you like it or not. It needs to be a democratic decision, not one made between two people arguing about the same shit we always have.” 

He looked at you with an indiscernibility before you shook your head. 

Tears welled in your eyes. “Look, every day, I live with this terror that you’re going to see more unsub every day and less of your wife. Then one day, you’ll look over and only see a killer. That’s when you’ll divorce me and turn me in. I have no proof that you won’t leave me. I know you’ve stayed by my side. I know you’ve watched me do tons of illegal things, but I have nothing that tells me you won’t just leave. So please, tell me, what is it that makes you hate Dexter so much? Because if you hate him, then more than likely you hate me too. So i just need to know, if there is a difference, what is it? Because one minute you say you’re fine with me, the next you aren't. So what is it?”

He shook his head, his own tears forming. “Well I’m not fine with it, Y/N! You have this bond with him that you and I will never have. I watched you get so close to another man, and I felt like that was something I couldn’t touch. I was jealous of the time you spent with him, how you moved around him, how you followed his every instruction. You didn’t disobey him. You keep saying that you couldn’t have come to me because I would’ve made you see a therapist but…” He bit his lip. “If I’m being honest, you’re right. I have thought about doing what you did. If you’d come to me, I probably would’ve found a way to do what Dexter’s doing now. It could’ve been you and I, learning together. You’re right I have killed when I didn’t need to, without much of a second thought. And if becoming a vigilante is what you wanted to do… I would’ve supported that. But instead, you snuck around with a random unsub in Miami, that could’ve killed you.”

“But he didn’t. He’s not like most.” 

“I know, and in a way, I’m glad you picked him. He’s a safe, logical bet. But in another way, I can’t stand that you picked him over me. That’s why I hate him. I’m jealous of the bond you two share, a bond that could’ve been ours.” 

You let out a gasp. “That’s why you hate him? You feel threatened by him?” 

“Well, why shouldn’t I?” he asked as if it were obvious. “You two have done intimate things that we’ve never done. He’s just as smart as I am. I drove you away with all that BS about JJ… How can I expect you to stick around?” 

“Because I love you. Yes, Dexter and I are close, but that doesn't mean anything. I’m close to Garcia. You’re close to JJ. Clearly, as you’ve stated, closeness doesn’t mean anything.”

He shook his head as he looked down. “I just always think you’ll choose him over me. When it was just us, back home, there was no threat of that. But then we came down here and I watched the way you moved around him, laughed around him… You’re so open with him.”

“Because he accepts me for everything I am.”

“I do too,” he argued lightly. 

“We’ve done nothing but fight about my killing since you found out. You’ve said you understand and then the next second you’re asking ‘how could you do this’? It’s not like that with Dexter. We can be that open and carefree because we completely trust each other. He knows I won’t turn him in, I know he won’t turn me in. I've seen his darkness in full action, he’s seen mine. But that’s it. He doesn’t know me intimately in the ways you do. He doesn’t know all my highs, or all my lows. He doesn’t know all my desires. He doesn’t know that I secretly enjoy the Star Wars Prequels…” 

Spencer’s mouth turned up in a half smile. 

“My point is, just because he knows me on a different level, or knows different parts of me, doesn’t mean I want him.” 

“But the way you care for him. I’ve seen you nurse him, dote on him.” 

“Because I care for him, deeply. He’s the greatest best friend I’ve ever had besides you.” 

“So you don’t love him?”

“Not in any romantic sense of the word, no.” 

He let out a sigh. “I’m glad. I’m sorry. I’ve made this a lot harder on you than it had to be. It was… I was dealing with my own internal issues, and I’m sorry we didn’t just talk about it.”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “I know it’s hard to admit insecurities. But now that you know what the issue is, and that there’s nothing between Dexter and me, do you think you can cut him some slack? Or me?” 

He nodded, the tears flowing freely now. “Mhm.” 

“Good. So now, what are we going to do about Doakes? Keep in mind he doesn’t have the cleanest record, and if we let him go, it’s us three against him. But, he also isn’t a killer, at least not completely up to Dexter’s code so I’m not sure we could kill him.”

“I… I have no idea. This is your life and Dexter’s life on the line. I’m going to support any decision you two make about this.” 

After a moment, you nodded and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you so much for standing by my side on this.”

“I only wish I could’ve shown you that I was all this time. I let my jealousy guide me, instead of my love.”

“All that matters is that we’re on the same page now,” you assured.

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

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[schrijverr]

Reacting to Destiel Pictures

Continuing like normal after everything that had happened. Dean has invited his husband, Cas, again to make a video in which take some time to react to picture of themselves throughout the years

Part of the Famous Husband verse, which is also a series

On AO3.

Ships: Destiel

Warnings: none, but tell me if you want me to tag something for you, cause I’ll do so happily without question!

~~~~ ~~~~~~

“I look like a rat, Dean.” Castiel deadpanned.

“No, you were the cutest ever!” Dean replied.

Cas pouted: “You only say that, because you love me.”

Dean gave him a quick peck and said: “That doesn’t make it less true, angel.”

Then the intro rolled, it was a drawn impala that came down the road, it stopped in the middle of the screen and the drawn Dean gave a wink to the viewers, then he sped off again and the smoke was bridge back to the video.

Hi, Hunters! Welcome back.” Dean smiled, “Today I am with my husband, Castiel, and we’re reacting to old pictures of us.”

“Hello, everyone.” Cas greeted everyone.

“Disclaimer.” Dean said, “For anyone confused about the last time we had Cas on the channel. He did not murder me or brainwash me.”

Castiel nodded, but he did stare into the camera for a moment and Dean had used the moment to edit in a light blue glowing gleam in them. Just because he could and it was fun, he liked feeding the fire.

“Are you ready?” Dean asked, moving on. Cas nodded, then Dean turned to the audience and explained: “We have a laptop here where we are watching the photos, but I will display them on the screen here. Sam picked these images, so we both have no idea what is coming.”

The first image came up, it was from their first year at college. Castiel was sitting behind a desk, thick book in front of him. He had a small familiar frown on his face as he tried to concentrate on the text. Next to him was Dean, he also had a book in front of him, but he was looking into the camera and sticking out his tongue.

Both smiled at the image and Dean lovingly said: “Ahw, you were always a little nerd, weren’t ya.”

Cas rolled his eyes with a fond smile and said: “If I remember correctly, you did quite good in school as well.”

“Yeah,” Dean rubbed the back of his head with a blush and shrugged, “what a stable home life can do for you, you know.”

He clicked through to the next picture. This one was a bit older still at college, but they hadn’t confessed yet, despite both being in love. Dean commented that and noted: “How did we not see how smitten we were?”

Cas laughed: “I don’t know.”

In the picture they were both standing in front of a monument of some sort. Dean had slung his arm over Castiels shoulder and had pulled him close. They weren’t even looking into the camera, lost in each others eyes.

Dean told the camera: “This was after our second year at college. We took a trip with Sammy for the summer. He took this pic of us.”

“That was nice, we went to the beach. You taught me how to swim remember.” Cas said.

Dean smiled at the memory. “Yeah,” he said, “you were very cute. I think I used a picture of that in my fake documentary of you. The ones with the bee sunglasses?”

“Oh, yeah I remember that one.” Castiel laughed.

They went on to the next picture. This was from their graduation, they were both wearing the stupid robes. Cas was hugging Dean from behind, resting his head on Deans shoulder as he looked into the camera with a smile. Dean held the arm that was slung across his chest with two hands and also grinned in the camera.

Cas said: “We had been together for three weeks in this picture.”

“Ahw, look at that baby face.” Dean said, “So young and besotted.”

“You still are.” Cas ribbed him.

Dean just melted and agreed: “Yeah, I am.”

He gave Cas a quick kiss, before moving on to the next picture. That one was of their one year anniversary. They’d climbed a mountain together and asked a stranger on top of it to take a picture of them. Cas was on Deans back, his head resting on Deans head. Both were sweating, but they had smiles that took over their entire faces.

“This was our one year.” Dean explained, “We climbed a mountain. I was so tired when we reached the top.”

Cas nodded: “It’s a miracle we stayed up long enough for the picture.”

“Yeah.” Dean laughed, “I had to sit for like an hour, before we could head back down.”

He clicked to the following photo. It was a selfie he had taken to sent to Sam to explain why he couldn’t come to diner that night. He had completely forgotten about it, but it seemed Sam still had it. Dean smiled apologetically in the picture, while an obviously sick Cas was in the background.

Castiel immediately deadpanned: “I look like a rat, Dean.”

“No, you were the cutest ever!” Dean replied.

Cas pouted: “You only say that, because you love me.

Dean gave him a quick peck and said: “That doesn’t make it less true, angel. You are the cutest ever. I remember you wanted to cuddle the entire time, it was so sweet.”

Cas looked guilty and said: “I remember, you got sick the week after.”

Dean ruffled his hair and reassured him by saying: “And you cared for me, very sweetly. You even asked Ellen to make that soup I like.”

They moved on to the next one. It was one of Dean sleeping in the backseat of the Impala, over him lay a familiar trench coat. Dean asked: “Where does this photo come from?”

“I took it, when we were making that road trip.” Castiel answered, “I sent it to Sam, since he had asked how the trip was going. I believe I captured it ‘Going to wake up the angry bear’”

Dean pouted: “I’m not that grumpy in mornings.”

Cas smiled, but didn’t say anything. Dean looked offended, but his reaction was cut out.

The next picture was the same one they had framed above their bed. It was taken at their wedding. Dean was holding Cas in a bridal-carry, both grinning like idiots.

Both couldn’t help the same stupid grin that took over their faces. Dean said: “This was the best day of my life, I think. Never regretted it, angel.”

Cas smiled at him, eyes filled with love and he quickly embraced Dean as he said: “Me neither. My Dean.”

They stayed like that for a moment, just looking at the picture. Then Dean softly said: “I’m so glad I found you, Cas. I can’t imagine my life without you… or Claire for that matter.”

The last part had been edited out, along with the deep and teary kiss the two shared after it.

When it cut the new picture was shown on screen. Cas was standing at the door, coat already on, bag in hand. He was about to leave, but his tie had been crooked, so Dean was fixing it for him. They both had a fond look in their eyes as they smiled softly. Claire had taken that picture a week ago and sent it to Sam, saying ‘Papa and Pops are being gross again’

Dean smiled and wondered out loud: “When did we get so domestic.”

“Probably around the time we bought a house together and fell into a routine.” Cas said, before realizing it was rhetorical, so he added: “I think it suits us.”

Dean thought about his tumultuous youth and nodded and agreed: “Yeah it does.”

Castiel looked at the picture again, then reached for the laptop. Dean asked: “What are you doing, sunshine?”

“I’m sending this to myself, so I can make it my background.” Castiel answered.

Then it cut to the endcard. Dean said: “That was it for today, hope you enjoyed it.”

“I did.” Castiel said.

Dean smiled at him then turned back to the viewers: “Cas here enjoyed it, so leave a like for Cas. If you don’t want to miss out, subscribe and ring that bell. If you wanna watch more amazing Cas content you can click here and you can click here for just me. Which is also fun and just as handsome, but maybe not what you want.”

“Assbutt.” Cas said with an eyeroll.

“Still not a real swearword, darling.” Dean told him, turning back to the audience he said: “Bye Hunters, see you on the road.”

Then the video ended

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

I cried at the wedding photo so

cute, my gay heart can’t take it

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

Dudes, what’s up with the eye

glowy thing at 00:50 scary

angel Cas is back. I’m scared

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

I didn’t know I needed Dean

asleep on the backseat under

Castiels coat until now, but

damn did I need it

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

GUYS?? IS NO ONE

WONDERING WHO TOOK THAT LAST PICTURE? LIKE WHO WAS THERE???

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

The fact that Dean got sick

because he couldn’t refuse hugs

from his husband is the best

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

Alternate title: husbands being

soft and reminiscing

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

Wtf? Assbutt? Who came up

with that shit? Fucking whack

bro

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

Ahw they are so disgustingly

sweet

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

Do you think Cass knows bear

also has a different meaning with

the gays? Is he innocent? Should

we tell him??

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

Dean and Cas: tell us they went

on a road trip

Fanfic writers: WRITE THAT DOWN! WRITE THAT DOWN

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

They look so in love!!!

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

[whimperwoods]

29-Day Whump Challenge - Day 16

Day 16: Filmed Whump || Sleep Deprivation

Local Anemic Bitch writes about exhaustion, news at 11. Prompts are by @yuckwhump and found here.

This one’s a continuation of my starvation post from day 9, but set both before and after it. (That’s right, more flashbacks. This one’s less violent and more narrative!)

tw: starvation, tw: slavery, tw: trafficking, tw: conditioning, tw: neglect, tw: electrocution, tw: torture, tw: brainwashing (attempted), tw: people as pets (werewolves as pets but like... werewolves are people), tw: collars

*****

Drew sat in his new owner’s lap in just his underwear, freezing cold and leaning into the man for warmth, his master’s arms tight and warm around him.

He could breathe easier, now that he’d had a little water, small sips when his master said he could have some, before it was taken away again because the man didn’t want him being sick.

Before she’d handed the water over, the woman who worked here had wrenched Drew’s chin away from his master’s side, forcing him to look her in the eye. Her eyes had been cold, and she’d told him that if he bit his new master, he’d be going right back into the cell before the paperwork could go through.

He’d shivered, the trembling in his whole body intensifying in a freezing cold flood, but he’d forced himself to nod, even as the motion made his head spin.

It was strange, thinking of this man as his master, after he’d fought so hard against the whole idea. He remembered more now. He remembered talking back, saying he wasn’t an animal, wasn’t a pet, would never let himself become one.

His whole body hurt, and his stomach felt like it was going to churn itself apart trying to get the water in it out to the rest of his limbs. He was too weak to sit on his own, too weak to hold his head up, much too weak to stand, and everything in his world was the slight, slight chance that the man holding him might be better than this place, and he hadn’t understood, before, but now he did. Now he did.

“Very good,” the woman said, “There’s the first set of paperwork done. He’s yours. We’ll still need to finish the other set, liability and such, but we’ll go ahead and get him settled with his complimentary collar and all that, since you’ve already got him here.”

Drew leaned away from the woman, pressing farther into his master’s side, but she didn’t react, and his master didn’t stop her when she pried his head away from its place beneath his master’s chin and wrapped a cold, metal collar around his neck.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized what it was, when he recognized the smaller plates of a different metal settling against his throat.

“No,” he begged, “No, please. Please.” His voice was hoarse and broken, his throat barely wet enough to make a sound, and his master’s arms tightened around him, making him bite his tongue and whine instead.

“What is it? I don’t think I’ve seen one like this.”

“It will administer a mild electric shock. For control. Of course, our hope here is always that you won’t need such a thing, and our premium pets behave themselves with only a cloth collar, or even with none at all. This one - well, it’s better safe than sorry.”

His master’s arm left his side, reaching toward the woman.

“Here’s your remote control,” she said, “You can test it out if you like.”

Another jolt of fear went through Drew and he closed his fingers as best he could in the front of his master’s shirt. “Please,” he gasped, “Please.”

His master ran the other hand all the way up and down his back, stroking along his spine. “That’s alright. I trust you. And anyway, I can already tell he’s gonna be a good boy. Aren’t you, fella?”

“Yes sir!” Drew panted. “Yes sir, please sir, please.”

“See? If it doesn’t work when I want it, I’ll just come back.”

Drew shivered again, a sob working its way audibly out of his throat and surprising even him. His master held him closer, the side of the remote pressing into his ribs as his master brought that arm up around his body again, and a second sob burst out of him, louder than the first.

“Please sir,” he begged between wracking sobs, “Please.”

“Take it off,” his master said, “I can just get a taser instead.”

Drew retched, vomiting water against his master’s collarbone, but he was actually relieved by the thought of the taser, and the wrongness of that, the wrongness of the feeling he could make sense of but couldn’t stop, turned his empty, weakened stomach inside out.

*****

Drew’s eyes fluttered shut in the chair, and after a few seconds, a jolt of electricity shot through him, the plates of the shock collar burning against his neck as every muscle in his body tensed, wrenching at his bones as the pain rolled jaggedly through him, before stopping again just in time to let him scream.

“I told you not to fall asleep during your lesson,” the trainer said, taking out a remote from his pocket and pressing a button on it, sending a shorter, sharper jolt through him that almost stopped the breath he was still trying to catch.

Drew moaned, keeping his head up to prevent another shock.

The rubber cuffs around his wrists, binding him to the wooden table, wouldn’t let him reach up and wipe away the drool that always seemed to accompany the shocks, so he twisted his shoulder as far as he could to wipe the spit off on it.

He didn’t know how long he’d been here, but he did know, as the audio in his ears started up again, whispering insidious lies, that he couldn’t give them what they wanted. He couldn’t.

The longer the ‘lesson’ went on, the harder it was to stay awake and the more he found himself on the receiving end of the double shocks, the automatic ones from the collar responding to the change in his breathing and heart rate, and the trainer’s shocks growing gradually longer as he followed the automatic shocks up with manual ones.

He’d thought at the start that this seemed like a milder ‘lesson’ than usual, but now it had been hours and hours of the same words pouring through his brain, the same shocks burning through him each time he was asked who he was and he said his name again. Now, he had drool dripping down his face he couldn’t even hope to wipe away, and as he waited for the audio to finish and the trainer to ask him questions again, he wondered if defying them again would actually kill him.

Finally, there was silence, and the trainer came over to the table and wrenched his head up to look into his eyes. “Who are you?”

“A-andrew. Andrew Michael Green.”

The man slapped him hard across the face, and he almost cried with relief because it wasn’t another shock. “Wrong. What are you?”

“I’m a person.”

Another slap, a backhand hard enough to drive his head sideways with it. “You’re a filthy werewolf. Where do you belong?”

Drew gritted his teeth, working up the guts to answer only when the trainer picked up his remote control. “I belong at home, you bastard!”

He wasn’t surprised by the shock, but it still made him feel like the life was being torn away from him, shredded from the inside out. The current went on and on, longer than it ever had before, until he started wondering if his muscles were actually going to tear with the force of the tension on them.

When it stopped, he’d barely managed to gasp in a new breath before the trainer backhanded him again, snapping his head to the side. “We’ll try again tomorrow. The lesson isn’t over until you learn it.”

He’d been dragged away by his arms, too weak from the shocks to stand, but he’d been relieved to get away from the remote control. He’d been a fool.

*****

The woman lifted Drew out of his master’s lap and dropped him callously onto the floor, and Drew felt his side bruise and his bones strain under the force of the landing. She fussed over his master, dabbing at the mess on his chest, and making excuses and offers, one right after the other.

His master waved her off, got up, and knelt over him. He leaned down, whispering right into Drew’s ear. “I’m sorry.” Then he hit Drew in the back of the head, slapping him hard enough to force his head forward, his chin moving toward his chest and his cheek sliding across a little bit of grit on the tile floor.

Drew whimpered.

His master straightened up. “See? He’s not so tough. Take that thing off. I’ll look for a better one over here, yeah? Something more me. Not so utilitarian.”

The woman’s hands weren’t gentle as she removed the shock collar, but Drew sobbed with relief anyway, turning his face into the floor so his master wouldn’t have to look at him, and he wouldn’t have to look at any of this.

*****

Alone in his cell, Drew laid down on his thin mattress and closed his eyes.

The moment he fell asleep, another jolt of electricity ran through him, waking him. It was brief, automated, and weaker now that the trainer wasn’t standing over him turning the power up. He grunted in pain, sitting up.

Fuck.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what this was, what it meant.

It was still hard to wrap his brain around. They weren’t going to let him sleep. They were going to keep him here, awake, and then drag him back in there, awake, to do it all again, and they were going to do it until he gave in or died, and he was going to be shocked all night, the whole time, and that was - he closed his eyes, sighing. That was something he couldn’t just think his way out of.

There was no convincing himself that they’d get bored with hitting him, bored with the shocks, bored with the insults and the mantras and the whole damned system.

This was a computer, and it didn’t get bored and it didn’t care and he didn’t know how to get the collar off.

By the time the guard made his midnight round, Drew was pinching himself to stay awake, his body warn out from a day of electricity coursing through him, his muscles aching and his nerves frayed.

By the 3 am rounds, he knew he’d tell them anything they wanted to hear, tomorrow. He’d been shocked twice more, in spite of his best efforts, and without sleep, all his other aches and pains were getting worse, instead of better.

Breakfast time came and went, and no one came to his cell to get him. The people in the neighboring cells were lead away, and he was still here, exhausted and waiting.

He fell asleep three times before lunch. 5 before dinner. 6 before lights out. He hummed every song he could think of, pinched his arms in a thousand little places, stood up and wobbled to and fro in his cell, and he still kept falling asleep.

No one came, and he sat back down on the bed as the room went dark with a loud, sudden clunk.

36 hours. It had definitely been at least 36 hours.

Everything hurt. His eyes felt like sandpaper, and his head felt too light, reeling as his body tried to fall asleep and he had to force his own head up. His eyes leaked tears, even as he knew, deep inside himself, that he wasn’t crying. They flowed silently, painlessly, unchecked, pooling against the puffy skin under his eyes before they dripped away. They stuck in his eyelashes when he blinked, glinting in the faint bio-luminescence of the woman in the cell across the way.

By midnight, he was falling asleep with his eyes open, only aware of it when another jolt tore through him. He sobbed quietly in the dark, but all of the prisoners slept heavily, their bodies trying desperately to repair themselves in the night, and he was alone.

The guard walked past. He didn’t know what time it was. He didn’t know how long he’d been awake. He didn’t know how to do the math anymore.

He had thought his body hurt before. Now, every blink felt like it might tear the surface off his eyes, and the pain of the shocks sat over a bone-deep, soul-deep ache that he knew wouldn’t heal, that he knew would just grow and grow and grow until it swallowed him alive, unless he was allowed to sleep.

He kept his eyes open. He was shocked. He was shocked. He was shocked. He tried to cry, but he had no tears left, and no energy left for sound.

The lights came on. 48 hours.

No one came.

He was shocked. Shocked. Shocked. His head reeled, lolled, shot back up, and he knew he was going to die like this.

The others got breakfast. The guards passed his cell like he wasn’t here, and he didn’t have the strength or the voice left to call out to them. He kept seeing faint echoes of the guards when they weren’t there, drifting in front of his eyes with no accompanying sounds of footsteps and vanishing into nothing when he blinked and forced his eyes farther open.

Something was coming. Something. He couldn’t remember. Couldn’t remember. Couldn’t think. He tried to pinch his arm, but his fingers didn’t line up right and slid past each other, leaving just an ineffectual scratch.

He kept his eyes open, but even the light did nothing to keep him alert. He was shocked. He was shocked.

His trainer came with lunch, with the remote, and increased the power on the collar before he slid the food through the bottom of the bars. Kyle stared, his eyes dry and blank, and knew staying alive was all that was left to him. He had to stay alive. His body screamed for sleep, the only thing that might keep it whole in the face of the shocks, and he knew he was going to answer the man’s questions the way he wanted them, this time.

*****

Drew’s master picked him up again, scooping him into his arms like he was nothing, like he weighed nothing, and he went willingly, leaning back up against the damp cloth of his master’s shirt and hoping the man could tell he was being compliant.

The man wrapped a strip of something bright green around his neck, a stiff canvas collar that he secured almost loosely, and Drew fought back more tears.

“Thank you, master,” he whispered, “Thank you.”

He had nothing left. Nothing. No flesh, no hope, hardly even a name. But even in the cell where he’d starved in his chains, he’d been able to sleep, to put himself back together in increasingly small increments, to knit together the frazzled nerves even as the rest of his body tried to shut down.

“I’ll be good,” he whispered.

His master ran a hand up and down his back again. “I know. I know.”

The woman gave his master more paperwork, and the man started filling it out.

Drew closed his eyes, tucking his head back under his master’s chin, curling into his side, and trying to be small and out of the way. Maybe, maybe he could still keep that. The sleep. The only thing left to him to make any part of him whole.

Between the forms, his master rocked just slightly back and forth, just enough that Drew could feel it, pressed against him. It was soothing. Reassuring.

Drew breathed. His master rocked, barely perceptibly. He calmed down. His eyes grew heavy. His master didn’t wake him, and the canvas collar sat, inert, against his skin.

By the time his master signed the last page, shook the woman’s hand, and stood up with Drew still cradled against his chest, Drew was almost asleep, and almost convinced that wherever he was going, he might be allowed to heal.

[a-marlene-s]

La Red: Part 12

If anyone is interested or want to support my writing feel to drop by.  https://ko-fi.com/a_marlene_s 

This is a bit of a flashback, enjoy

Nino what he is planning on doing could either make or break his relationship with Alya forever. He knew that if he cannot convince his girlfriend that Lila is bad news, it is the end of their relationship. Of course, the teen had tried to warn his girlfriend time and time again, but no matter how much he tried, Alya would wave him off.

There was so much more than that too. Nino knew with Alya’s method of gathering information for the Ladyblog could be seen as unethical, more so with showing videos of very private moments of the heroes. Things that should have been discussed beforehand before they were published. Did he warn her? Yes, yes he did. Did Alya listen? No. No, she did not listen.

Did Nino warn Alya about the Lila video’s? Against his better judgment, he did not try hard enough to talk her into talking to Ladybug herself about the information. During that time, there was little voice in the back of his head that told him he needed to double check Lila’s words. The voice telling him that what Alya is doing is going to get her in trouble in the long run… but Alya had a way to convince him otherwise.

This would become a cycle between them, with Nino trying to convince Alya that she needed to check her work and her convincing him that her information is legitimate. There was nothing wrong with her work and he’s overthinking everything. Everything Lila is saying is the truth.

Everything Lila is saying is the truth. Emphasize on period.

Ever since Lila came into the picture, she became Alya’s whole world and in turn, his as well. Whatever to keep his girlfriend happy and that only resulted with so much stress add to their relationship.

Lila this-

Lila that-

Lila said this-

Lila told me-

Lila…

Lila.

LILA!

Alya’s ever need to clung onto every word that slips out of Lila’s mouth has caused friction between the couple. Nino was pulled into every conversation, forced to take on opinions that were not of his own. It got to the point where he suspects Lila has been talking crap behind his back to Alya whenever he did anything that displeased the liar.

Nino wanted to ignore it. He really did. More so with how Adrien took everything in with stride with that megawatt smile of his, but that should have been the first red flag. Adrien only smiles like that when he has something to hide, it’s too rehearsed for his own good.

The metaphorical cheery to this cake? Marinette.

Nino should have trusted her word against Lila, but did not. He could still remember how Alya would tighten her hold him whenever he wanted to say anything and he kept quiet. Not this time.

After a long day of reevaluating everything that has been happening since Lila came to their school, it has been increasingly evident that she has targeted Marinette for one reason or another. After talking to Ladybug… it’s clear that Nino should have listened to that little voice in his head. 

Nino hopes that after this, he could still be considered Marinette’s friend. A title he shouldn’t have taken for granted.

-.-

“Lila told me that Ladybug-”

“Alya…”

“Then she told me that-”

“Alya.”

“Marinette shouldn’t be such a bi-”

“ALYA!”

“What? I’m just giving you a recap on what I’ve been talking to Lila before you got here?” Alya questioned Nino, giving him a skeptical look as she leads him through her home. Her expression changed when she realized that Nino did not move beyond entryway of her home. “Nino?”

“Are you parents’ home? Your sisters?” Nino asked, taking a look around the apartment.

“My parents are out on a date and Nora took the twins out.” Alya asked, becoming annoyed. “Come on, let’s go to my room and I’ll tell you what happened.”

“I rather talk here.” Nino said, not budging from his spot. He stared at Alya, seeing that her eyes were still red from her crying earlier but he has to push that away from his mind. “I talked to Ladybug and what she said has me thinking over a lot that has been happening to us, Marinette and Lila.”

Alya’s expression shifted into fury at the mention of Marinette. “I thought you went to talk to Ladybug and not her.”

“I did speak with Ladybug and what she said is very telling.” Nino said, his gaze hardened when he saw Alya walked down the stairs to walk up to him. More so when Alya started to talk about how he’s now taking Marinette’s side, same as Ladybug. “Are you accusing Ladybug is being manipulated by Marinette?”

“What else? Lila told me that Ladybug has been talking to Marinette a lot and she suspects she’s manipulating her.” Alya stated, with the upmost certainty. “The bitch has been brainwashing Ladybug against Lila!”

“Is that it? You’re going to take Lila’s words for granted?” Nino accused. “That’s all you have been saying and doing since Lila came into the picture. Lila this- Lila that- Lila said this- Lila told you- LILA! The main reason we never have time to ourselves is because of her. The reason Marinette has started to avoid everyone is because of her. You what’s the most fuck up thing about this, you’re so hung up on Lila’s words that you refuse to see what exactly is going on around you.”

“Don’t talk like that about Lila! She’s my friend, just as much as she is yours.” Alya defended, her eyes now show a fury. “Lila has been helping me with the Ladyblog and so much more! More so than anyone else by the looks of it.”

Nino’s features turn stony at Alya’s words. “Did you ever bother to ask Ladybug herself if she’s friends with Lila?”

At that, Alya rolled her eyes. “Lila to-”

“Did you ever ask Ladybug herself if she’s friends with her?”

“No, but-”

Nino slowly raised his hands into the hair and placed them on his head, gripping his hat in an attempt to hold back his dismay. He did not bother to hear Alya’s excuse. He’s heard it time and after time again. “That means you did not verify your sources. You didn’t verify with Ladybug herself on what Lila is saying about her.”

“Please, Lila told me that Ladybug will deny know her for her own protection. What you’re just saying is that you got from Marinette!” Alya accused.

“For the last time, I did not talk to her, I talked to Ladybug herself!”

“Marinette is just manipulating Ladybug and now she’s trying to manipulate you too!”

“A decent report always verifies her sources. You never once bother to ask her if Lila’s words are true.”

Slap-

Nino blinked a couple of times, he slowly looked over at Alya’s raised hand and the look of shock that spread across her face. He slowly lowered his hand to his now throbbing cheek. One thing rang through his mind, there was no way their relationship could be salvaged at this point. “Marinette nearly got akumatized because of Lila… three times. All you could care about is your blog. Lila has been tormenting your supposed best friend and all you want to do is demean her by saying she’s jealous and manipulating everyone?”

Shock gone replaced back with her fury. “Maybe if she jus-”

“I’m warning you Alya, Lila’s words will be your fall and at some point and like a house of cards, you will be dragged down by them if you don’t open your eyes. As for me… I’m done.” Nino turned around to head towards the door to leave. He tugged had one hand on the door and the other on his shirt when he felt Alya had gotten a grasp on it. “…Ladybug told me she could no longer trust you for the fact you were unable to separate your hero life and with your civilian life. She could no longer ignore your behavior and to be frank… I’m ashamed for how we have been treating Marinette for something so… stupid.”

“Is that because you still have feelings for her? Is that it! Lila told me-”

“I’m done.” Nino tugged his shoulders out of his now ex-girlfriend’s grasps and walked out. He ignored Alya’s cried for him to return before the sound of her slamming the door shut reverberated the silent street. When he got to the end of the street, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Taking in a deep breath he dialed a familiar number and hoping they could pick up.

“Hello…? Nino?”

[the-lupine-sojourner]

Takara’s Hero Academia [S02 E06]

Well, well, well. Here we are at least! I finally got over some writer’s block and am back with a new chapter for you guys! I’m so sorry this took so long. I just couldn’t finish this chapter for some reason, but I think Season 4 kicked me out of that funk so here we are!

 Alright, lemme tag my wonderful supporters @dailyojiromashirao​, @elite-guard-hardygal​ (who is letting me borrow her OCs, the Teichidas, very sweetly as well as being basically a beta-reader for me cus they’re just that awesome!), and @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99​! Sorry again for the wait! 

Here is the Masterlist for this story for those who want to reread/catch up on previous chapters. 

I now also have a Ko-Fi account if anyone wants to support this story. It should even mean you get chapters faster. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

My teammates were walking toward us and I wave at them. 

"Sorry about that, guys." I say, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly. Chiharu smiles sympathetically at me. 

"No sweat. You okay now?" 

I nod. "I got gummies." I reply shortly, clearing my throat. "So...where’d we place?" I ask. Hiyoko sighs, her arms crossed and an unreadable emotion on her face. 

"We tied with Team Tetsutetsu." Hiyoko explains, almost listlessly. I nod. 

"Cool." Was all I could think to say. Hiyoko groans. 

"This was our chance and we blew it!" She huffs. "You need to take this seriously, Takara!" I was too stunned to acknowledge that she used my first name. She thought...she thought I was…

"Hiyoko, I am taking this seriously! It sucks! I hate it cus it’s partly my fault! I should have used my Quirk better so we would’ve had a place in the finals! I’m sorry! I just can’t let myself get hung up on the past or I’ll--I’ll break down again!" I exclaim. Silence reigned and I have to walk away or I’ll break down in front of them or say something else I’d regret. Shinso follows, motioning everyone to stay.  

"Your dad said there was an hour lunch break, so we better get food now before the line gets too long." He muses. Feeling as bad as I had when I went into the bathroom, I only nod, looking at the ground as I plod along, eyes prickling as a warning of advancing tears. Hiyoko was right; no matter how positively I tried to spin it, I couldn’t deny the fact that I failed, that we wouldn’t go into the final game. And it still sucker-punched me in the gut just thinking about it. "C’mon, you said it yourself; you can’t get hung up on the past. Let’s get lunch and- -"

"Shinso, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually." I interrupt, finding something to distract myself with; the way he used his Quirk on his teammates instead of letting them be themselves. He raises a brow as I stop and turn to him, crossing my arms. "You brainwashed your teammates." I point out sourly. 

He shrugs. "That’s what my Quirk does, yeah." I grit my teeth, reaching out and smacking his shoulder. 

"Baka! What were you thinking?!" I hiss, unsure whether this sudden frustration was at myself or Shinso, but either way, I needed to let it out. 

"Ow! So what? I want to show people what I can do! I don’t see the problem, Takara." Shinso replies, rubbing his shoulder. My eye twitches. 

"Dude! You want people to know you’re an aspiring hero, right? So don’t brainwash everyone you need to team up with! Let them be themselves and build up a mutual trust as equals! It looks bad when you go around just brainwashing people cus you need a team!" 

Shinso frowns. "I know what I’m doing." 

I glare back. "I don’t think you do!" 

"Okay, fine! Look, unless we’re in combat or something, I won’t use my Quirk again, alright? Happy?!" 

I sigh heavily, the emotions fading a little. "Yes. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have exploded at you. I’m just...frustrated and...and I guess disappointed. I should have been able to think rationally and ensure we made it to the next game, but I blew it and now I’m stuck on the sidelines, without much hope for recruitment." 

"Based strictly on your performance in the Festival, maybe not.” 

I wince, knowing that blunt truth already. 

“But,” Shinso continues, stepping a little closer, “keep in mind, people also saw and heard that you were involved with that sludge villain attack a while ago, and then in the USJ incident. If they’re smart, they’ll look at your history and see how amazing you are and give you an offer for an internship. Plus, you did pull off some amazing moves in the obstacle course and in the cavalry battle." 

I take a breath. He was right. This doesn’t mean my chances at being a pro are gone. 

I manage a smile at him. "Okay. Okay, yeah. You’re right." He nods and we head back to our class waiting rooms to grab our wallets in silence, promising to meet at the entrance to the food court, where I assume we’ll run into my other teammates and maybe some of 1-A, too.

Suddenly, I hear someone growl "All Might." I pale and instinctively inch closer out of curiosity. 

"I haven’t seen you since that press conference ten years ago." Toshin-Oji replies.  "Been a while. I saw you and figured I’d say ‘hi’." 

Whoever Toshin-Oji is talking to huffs. "Did you now?" The person says in a mocking voice. "Well, if that’s all you wanted to do, we’re done." I hear footsteps receding and the grumbling male voice muttering to themselves, then Toshin-Oji laughs and I hear motion and then a fairly heavy landing. 

"C’mon, why the cold shoulder?" All Might asks. Did he seriously not pick up on the high level of ‘I don’t want to talk to you’ this guy’s giving off? Or is there a point my uncle’s getting at here? "You should be thrilled; after all, your son’s doing very well out there, just using half his power." Was Toshin-Oji referring to Shoto, cus Shoto has two powers? If so, was he talking to- -wait...he’s talking to Endeavor?! I didn’t know those two didn’t get along to this extent. "You must be a great teacher!" I blink. Was he serious? Did he seriously just want to talk to Endeavor about teaching methods? Was he that unsure of his own teaching abilities? 

"Are you implying something?" Endeavor growls. 

"No!" Toshin-Oji replies. "I want to know your secrets. How do we train the next generation of heroes?" 

"Do you really think I’d tell you anything I’ve taught the boy? You’re all flash and no brains as usual. Outta my way!" I almost come out of my hiding place and snap at Endeavor, but manage to stay in place and bite my tongue. It was very disrespectful to talk that way to your elders, no matter how deserving they are of a lecture.

"...Okay." All Might mumbles. He finally decided to stop pressing Endeavor into talking to him. The receding footsteps halt. 

"Let me assure you of one thing, All Might." Endeavor growls, halting. "Whatever it takes, that kid of mine will beat you someday." I blink. I wasn’t terribly close to Shoto, but hearing this exchange, I might have to change that. His dad sounds like a scumbag! "I’ll make sure of it. That’s why I created him." I have to put my hand over my mouth to suppress a gasp of shock and disgust. I didn’t like the sound of that at all! If that’s Shoto’s home life...no wonder the kid’s a bit...reserved. So this sleazeball just married and had a kid so his kid could do what he couldn’t? Good God! Poor Shoto! I decide that was enough and move to walk away. "He’s in a rebellious phase right now, but he will take your place." Is the last thing I hear. Slightly horrified and disturbed, I walk away and jog to get my wallet. That feeling didn’t go away.

"Hey, are you okay?" Shinso asks when I see him. I nod. Obviously, that conversation wasn’t meant to be public, so I shouldn’t spread it around. 

"Yeah, just hungry." We walk to the cafeteria, neither needing to speak.

I hope I can still get my food now before Mom and Dad get there- -I stop short when I feel a buzz. I’d gotten a text and reluctantly open it to find it’s from Dad. 

Oto-san <3333: 

Hey Tik-Tak! You rocked it out there! Your mom and I are heading down the food court! Mind meeting us there so we can eat together???? 

I wince. The more question marks, the less option I had. I bite my lip to hold in a groan. Mom and Dad meant well and surely they knew that not everyone could get into the final game, right? They wouldn’t be mad, right? I then jump a little as I feel a hand on my shoulder. 

"Hey." Oh shit! I was feeling...weird after everything that had happened today, and who else should show up but Eijiro?! I put a smile on (genuinely happy to see him) and turn. 

"Hey." I reply, putting my phone in my pocket. "Whassup?" 

He sighs. "Saw your team’s ranking." 

I bite my lip. "Yeah...um...congrats on getting second!" I say without a whole lot of emotion. I was too drained for that. 

He chuckles. "Yeah...I’m really sorry- -" 

"Let’s not talk about that, okay?" I feel bad for interrupting him, but Eijiro just smiles a little and nods. 

"Right, right. You getting lunch?" I smile. 

"Yeah. Mom and Dad wanna meet…" I then sniffle, feeling that damn prickling again. Crap why am I crying?! My parents won’t care, right? They just want to eat with me! I’m their kid, so it’s natural! 

"Hey, hey! Don’t cry!" Eijiro cries, thankfully not too loud as he moves to hug me and I break and clutch him to me. It was stupid, but here I was, crying again over this stupid Sports Festival! I look up to see that tears were forming in Eijiro’s eyes. "Takara, really, it’s gonna be okay. I know it sucks, but I promise it’ll turn out okay, just keep your head up." 

I try to get a hold of myself and nod, wiping my tears away. "Th-thanks, Eijiro." I mumble genuinely, sniffling again. I then spot a water fountain and take a long drink from it. Again, it made me feel a bit better. Now, to lunch. Eijiro walks with me and I find my hand inching toward his, wanting to hold it, but I refrain from grabbing it. We hadn’t crossed that boundary yet. He’d think I was weird if I just grabbed his hand.

And yet, he was here, just walking beside me and being there. 

Much as Shinso had been for me, but this was different. Shinso was an amazing help but Eijiro was a different but equally valuable type of support. 

We slowly make our way to the cafeteria, not needing words, just each other’s presence and then I saw both my parents and my teammates. 

I wave, feeling my heart skip in anxiety as I approach. Mom smiles at me, and Dad’s first to reach me, scooping me up and swinging me around. 

"You did awesome out there, Tik-Tak!" He exclaims. I blink as he sets me back down. I spot Shinso giving me a ‘told you so’ look in my peripheral vision.

"But...but I didn’t...I didn’t get into the final game." I mumble, my heart wanting to believe they weren’t going to be upset, but my head unconvinced just yet for some reason. 

"These things happen, Takara." Mom says, hand on my shoulder. "Next time, though, don’t let your emotions get the best of you and be able to think on your feet." 

"And don’t make yourself pass out!" Dad snaps, playfully smacking my shoulder. "That was really foolish, sweetheart!" I rub the smacked shoulder and nod. 

"Yeah I know." I blush at being scolded in front of my classmates and those I’d teamed up with. Mom then comes to my rescue. 

"Well, enough about that; who are your new friends?" She asks. 

"We’re not quite friends, Ma’am, but my name is Hiyoko Teichida and this is my stepbrother, Ryuji." Hiyoko replies before anyone else can. I roll my eyes. 

"Don’t pretend you don’t love me." I tease. Hiyoko scoffs. 

"I’ve never pretended to do or be anything." I laugh and throw my arm around Chiharu’s shoulder. 

"Suuurrreee...Anyway, this is my friend, Chiharu! She’s that third year I bumped into’s little sister." Mom and Dad nod. 

"We’re the Yamadas, if you didn’t know." Dad says, gesturing between Mom and himself. "We teach- -" 

"I know." Chiharu interjects gently. "You guys kinda have a rep around the school." Dad laughs. 

"I see." Mom frowns. 

"I understand Hizashi having one, but how do I have a rep?" I raise a brow, chuckling. 

"You expelled an entire class." I retort. Mom has an ‘ooohhhh’ face and nods. 

"Right." Dad puts his arm around Mom and I’s shoulders as I release Chiharu. 

"I don’t know about you guys but I’m starving!" 

I laugh. "Yeah me too!" We get food and find a table to sit at, but couldn’t find one with enough room for my friends, so I sit with my parents. We were close to the girls of 1-A, and I wave at them. 

"You okay after passing out?" Dad asks, hand on my shoulder. I nod, looking down. 

"Yeah. Um, I got gummies and water and feel better." 

"That’s good." Mom replies, thankfully not pressing me for details. "Eat." I do, and look directly at my parents. 

"...Thanks for not focusing on me in the commentary." I mumble. Mom nods. 

"I know the audience made things worse for me during my first Festival and I didn’t want to subject you to that if I could avoid it." I smile at her. 

"Thank you." I reply, feeling relief flood me. They weren’t upset at all that I hadn’t made it into the final game. Deep down, I’d known that, but it was so reassuring to hear it directly from them, in their own way of saying it. 

We enjoyed the rest of our meal in silence before it happened. 

At first, I thought nothing of Denki and the creep walking over to the girls’ table, though I noted it out of the corner of my eye and through my earth quirk. 

Then I overheard what they said. 

Mom had gone to the bathroom and Dad went to get a refill on his drink. Seemingly by chance, the boys chose right then to approach the table. 

"Yaoyorozu, Jiro." I hear Denki call. I look over curiously. He sounded serious...

"Uh-huh? Did you need something?" Momo asks, turning to look at him as well. I sip at my drink. Mineta motions to the cheerleaders passing by. 

"Well, I’m sure you already know, since you’re, like, the class rep, but they said all the girls have to wear those uniforms for the big cheer battle this afternoon." That did it. There was no cheer battle! Those perverts just want to get the girls in those skimpy outfits. I slam the chair back and stand, stalking over. 

"Uh, h-hey, Takara!" Denki cries. They weren’t counting on me interfering, apparently. I cross my arms and tap my foot, making a show of thinking. 

"You know...I just can’t quite remember…" I mumble. Denki’s stupid enough to take the bait. 

"Can’t remember...what, exactly?" I whirl on him angrily. 

"Remember when either of my parents told me about this quote-unquote cheer battle!" I snap, arms stick straight at my sides, my anger clear on my face.

"W-well, they probably assumed you- -"

"Don’t try me!" I snap. "They said no such thing and you know it, you perverts!" The boys stutter and stammer for a reply and I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Go back to your lunches before I smack you two!" I growl. The boys slink off, muttering to themselves as I sigh heavily and put my hands on my hips. 

"God, they’re idiots." I grumble, turning to the table of girls. 

"Those little perverts!" Kyoka growls, crossing her arms over her stomach. 

"I almost fell for it. Thanks, Takara." Momo adds, hand over her chest in relief. I nod. 

"Anytime. Someone needs to put those two creeps in their place. Honestly, I’m surprised Denki was a part of the scheme, but I guess all boys have that side, to some degree." I mumble to myself, roll my eyes, then turn to the girls’ table and smile. "Enjoy your lunch!" I chirp, turning to walk off. It struck me then that Eijiro most definitely wouldn’t have been a part of that scheme. He’d have put a stop to it sooner than I did, if he knew it was happening. He was a gentleman who had respect for women.

"Thanks, Yamada!" Ochaco calls after me, interrupting my thoughts. I wave back and sit down just as my parents come into my field of vision. I sip at my water and pretend I hadn’t moved. 

"Something happen?" Dad asks as he sits down, chuckling. "Kaminari and Mineta look scared to death." 

I shrug. "They probably got called out on something." I reply, unable to help a smirk. Mom and Dad crack a small smile and chuckle. Figures they'd see through it.

"I see. Well, let’s hurry up and finish. I want a little nap before the finals." I bite my lip. I’d be stuck in the stands the entire time. 

"Yeah, you’re right." Dad replies, standing. He smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder. "We’ll see you later, Tik-Tak." He says, drawing me in for a hug. I hug him back. 

"See you." I briefly hug mom and walk over to the table Eijiro sat at after throwing my garbage away. He smiles at me and I feel warmer all of a sudden. 

"Hey, Kara!" He greets. 

"Hey. You all about ready to head out?" I ask. Eijiro nods, standing. 

"If you are, sure!" He grabs the last few bites and swallows almost without chewing, then grabs his tray and all his trash. I smile and hold up my hands. 

"Don't mean to rush you, Eijiro." I reply. He comes back to me, smiling. 

"Seriously, Kara, I was leaving anyway." He then starts walking and I catch up. This time, I swear Eijiro's hand inches toward mine, even barely touching it, and I can't help feeling like his touch was magical, warming the skin his hand touched.

=#=#=#=#=

“Get those hands in the air! It’s almost time for the last round!” Dad cheers from the commentary booth, and I can’t help smiling in amusement. He absolutely loved commentating. 

One of my favorite memories involved pretending I was saving an entire city while Dad played the part of the frazzled but awestruck news reporter who was caught up in the action with his cameraman, and man did Dad ever dive into the role. I shake myself and pay attention. “But before that, good news for those who didn’t make the finals!” I knew what he was about to say; there were games to play.

As soon as he explains the next game to the finalists, I’d leave. I didn’t feel like playing any games. 

“Have fun competing in those side games, everyone!” Dad encourages. The screen then displays a tournament-style ranking system, and I realize what the final ‘game’ is. It’s a sparring tournament. “After they’re over, the 16 students from the top four teams will be duking it out 1-on-1 in a tournament style competition! I promise you’re not gonna want to miss these epic matchups!” I smile. I’d be watching and cheering my classmates and Shinso on. 

“Aww yeah! Finally getting a chance to show what we’re made of!” I almost forgot I was so close to Eijiro, scooting just a little away to give him some space. His eyes and his expression shift into something like elation and excitement, the area seeming lighter as a result. I blush a little, accidentally staring at him. His eyes were locked on the screen, though, so he didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve watched these finals every year and now I’m finally in them!” I smile, feeling happy for him and his excitement. It was hard not to, given the look on his face.

“So, wait...is it always a tournament?” Mina asks curiously. 

“The final’s always a 1-on-1 competition, but they switch it up every time.” Hanta explains, smiling in excitement as well. 

I nod. “When my parents were in the Festival, they had to spar with foam boxing gear and could use their Quirks to distract or block their opponents, but not attack directly. It was a weird way to fight but it taught them new applications for their Quirks.” I add, not feeling a bit resentful or jealous of those around me who were finalists. 

“Come closer and draw lots to see who you’re up against.” That almost breaks my good mood, but I maintain it by thinking of getting to watch and take notes on all the amazing fights. It’ll be fascinating to see how each of my classmates and the other classes that were in the finals fight and interact. “Then enjoy the pleasure of the Recreational Games before we start. The 16 finalists have the option of participating in those activities or sitting out to prepare for battle. I’m sure you all want to converse your stamina.” Oba Nemuri continues, then walks a little closer. “I’ll start with the first place team.” She says, but suddenly Ojiro puts his hand up. I turn to look at him, surprised. What was he up to? 

“Um...excuse me.” He murmurs, seeming nervous. “Sorry, but I’m withdrawing.” That sends a shock through everyone. 

“What? That’s crazy!” I exclaim before I can stop myself. 

“No way!” Izuku adds. 

“This is a rare chance for you to get scouted!” Tenya protests. Ojiro puts his hand down, staring into space. 

“It just wouldn’t be right.” I suddenly remember he was on Shinso’s team, if I’m not mistaken. “I barely remember anything from the Cavalry Battle until the very end of it.” I wince. He was definitely on Shinso’s team. “I think it was that guy’s Quirk.” Thankfully, he doesn’t point out Shinso. I spot him in my peripheral vision and meet his eye. I glance to Ojiro with a stern look to say ‘see what I was talking about?’ and Shinso looks only a little remorseful, but not terribly concerned about the consequences of his actions either. I sigh and refocus on Ojiro. “I know this is a great opportunity. I wish I could take advantage of it, but my conscience won’t let me.” I have to admit, I could see where Ojiro is coming from here, but at the same time…

“Just think about this.” Izuku pleads, stepping a little closer. 

“I have, okay?” Ojiro replies, and I can tell he was upset that it had come to this, but his mind was made up. “Everyone gave their all in Round 2, but I was just someone’s puppet. No way. I don’t want to advance if I don’t even know how I got here. It wouldn’t be far.” 

“That’s not true!” I chime in. “Ojiro, please. You don’t remember, yeah, but you still did good! You still earned a spot in the finals! There’s only 16 kids here that can say that! Do it for them if you have to, but please don’t waste this chance!” 

“Kara’s right!” Hagakure adds, shaking her gloved hands around. “You’re making too much of this! Just kill it in the finals and prove you should be there!” I nod my agreement. 

“Yeah, what the girls said.” Mina is next to speak, smiling. “I didn’t do much in the battle either.” Ojiro puts his hand over his eyes, seeming to shake slightly in emotion. 

“That’s not it.” He replies. I decide to leave the decision ultimately up to Ojiro. After all, we were kind of dog-piling on him. “I’m talking about my pride here. I refuse to give that up.” Everyone seems to join me in giving up trying to change Ojiro’s mind. Before Oba can decide what to do with Ojiro’s withdrawal, there’s another development. 

Another kid walked closer to the stage Oba was on. “Nirengeki Shoda from Class 1-B. I think I should withdraw for the exact same reason. Regardless of how strong I am, this isn’t how I wanted to get here!” I blink. This kid was as moral as Ojiro, unwilling to sacrifice his pride or personal values just to get into the finals. “It would go against the values of the festival to advance without earning my spot!” Ojiro seems more relaxed now he had someone agreeing with him and joining him. 

Beside me, Eijiro seems emotional, tears brimming in his eyes. 

“Listen to these guys!” He murmurs, “They’re so manly!” I chuckle and pat his shoulder. 

“No need to cry, dude.”

“I can’t help it.” He replies, wiping his eyes. “Sorry.” 

“You’re okay.” 

“Well now,” Dad says over the PA, unsure where this was going, “this is another weird turn of events.” Mom hums. 

“We’ll have to see what Midnight has to say about all this. She’s the one in charge.” 

For her part, Oba seems to be thinking it over. She then holds out her whip. “This sort of talk is incredibly naive, my boys!” She reprimands sternly, cracking the whip to punctuate what she was saying. “That turns me on!” I turn bright red. 

“Can she not talk like that on live TV?” I moan, facepalming as everyone takes in what she said. 

“Shoda, Ojiro, you’re withdrawn!” She doesn’t seem to be in the least affected by what she said. She then puts his hand to her chin in thought. “Let’s see...we’ll have to move up two students from the fifth-place cavalry team so we have enough contestants.” That was true. That was...Kendo’s team, right? Wasn’t she the red-head I took the headband from? 

Confirming my thoughts as if on cue, the girl I took the headband from raises a hand a bit. Yeah, she’s Kendo. 

“We were frozen most of the time.” She points out. “Honestly we barely did anything in the calvary battle, right girls?” It seems Ojiro and Shoda’s withdrawal inspired students to act on their morals and pride. Kendo looks to her teammates for confirmation, which was provided in nods. “You should choose from the group that kept fighting the whole time.” Wait... didn’t my teammates and I tie with Tetsutetsu? That means...maybe I have a chance! 

“Kendo!” Tetsutetsu protests, shocked his classmate would give up her chance in the finals too.

“I’m not doing this as a favor.” She explains, “It’s just fair.” Tetsutetsu seems as emotional as Eijiro had gotten. 

“Seriously you guys! Thank you!” He cries. 

“Hmmm,” Oba all but purrs, tapping her finger on her chin, “Team Teichida and Team Tetsutetsu were tied in the match.” She announces, seeming to think it over a bit. “Now...what to do about that…” She then snaps her fingers. “Oh, I know! We’ll add a thrilling wildcard and open four slots!” Everyone is shocked and Oba wriggles delightedly. 

“Wait what?!” Dad exclaims, “Midnight, what are you thinking!?” 

“Just what I said; a wild card element will be so much fun!” Oba runs a hand through her hair, licking her lips and making everyone uncomfortable, “Besides, it’ll work out as long as there are still an even number of contestants. It just means one extra match!” She explains, waving aside any concerns. “Now, Team Teichida and Team Tetsutetsu will have to vote who goes into the finals! Two from each team to make it fair!” She announces. “Teams, get together and discuss it!” Suddenly, Hiyoko was in front of me, Ryuji not far behind. I jump a little. 

“So?” Hiyoko asks, getting straight to the point. I notice Chiharu walking up behind the Teichidas and wave at her. Hiyoko huff impatiently. “Who’s going into the finals?” She presses, crossing her arms. I sigh. 

“Honestly, Chiharu can go. I screwed us up in the cavalry battle, so she should go.” I mumble. Chiharu instantly grabs my shoulders. 

“Are you crazy?! I’d be eliminated first round I fight in! I know that! I don’t have that much physical might. Compared to the others in the finals, I’m not up to the task.” She replies. I frown, gently peeling her hands off before she gave me whiplash. 

“Chiharu, really, I- -”

“You’re going, sis.” She interrupts, smiling at me. “Just kick butt for me, okay?” I look her in the eyes, really wanting to take her offer but wanting to make sure she actually wanted me to go to the finals. 

“You sure? This is a big deal...” It was a moment in the spotlight, and an opportunity to get recruited by pro heroes for an internship. 

“Yes!” She barks before I could press her further. “Honestly I know my limits and this fighting competition thing is beyond me. You do your best and have fun. Don’t worry.” I sigh. 

“If you’re sure, then...thank you.” She pats my shoulder. Hiyoko nods, then turns to her step-brother. 

“Alright, now that that’s settled, you go, Ryuji-boy.” Ryuji seems taken aback. 

“Wait what?” He asks. “Hiyoko-nee...are you...are you sure?” She nods. 

“Yeah.” It was clear she didn’t actually want Ryuji to go, but she was being a big sister. “This is your time in the spotlight, so don’t waste it, baka.” She grumbles. Ryuji looks his sister in the eye. 

“Hiyoko, seriously. I know what you’re doing. I want you to go.” 

“No! This is your chance to show yourself for once, you idiot! Now get out there and kick ass!” Ryuji shakes his head. 

“Not this time. Look, you need to do something for yourself here, Hiyoko. I know what this means to you. I promise I’ll be fine. You deserve this. Besides, there’s always next year.” Hiyoko seems to be trying to contain herself, but I think she appreciated the sacrifice Ryuji was making. She playfully smacks his shoulder. 

“Don’t get mad at me when I’m in the spotlight, okay?” 

He smiles. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” I look to Hiyoko. 

“So, looks like we’re going to the finals.” I muse, smirking. 

“If we fight, and we might, I’ll take you down.” I scoff. 

“We’ll see.” 

With Hiyoko, sometimes you had to return fire with fire. We watch Team Tetsutetsu discussing which members would go, soon reaching the conclusion that Tetsutetsu and some girl with vines for hair were going to the finals. Together the four of us approach Oba. “So, you four were agreed upon unanimously?” Oba asks. I nod. 

“Yup!” She smiles, cracking the whip. 

“Perfect! It’s been decided that Teichida Hiyoko, Yamada Takara, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, and Ibara Shiozaki are to fill the open slots in the final round.” We all quickly draw lots and file them to see who we had to fight. She then points with her whip to the screen, where the lots were filled in. “Take a look at the brackets, my dears! That’s who you’ll be fighting!” The crowd cheers as they read the screen and who will be fighting who. I scan and spot my name...right next to Hiyoko’s. Crap! She jinxed it! 

I then continue across the brackets and spot Eijiro’s name and see that he’s fighting Tetsutetsu. I laugh. “Seriously?!” Eijiro growls. “How does this keep happening?!” Tetsutetsu was nearby since we were the finalists. I laugh harder. 

The other pairs assess each other, exchanging brief words of various subjects, mostly ‘I’ll do my best to beat you’ type talk. 

Appearing once again like magic, Hiyoko’s voice comes over my shoulder. 

“We’re against each other.” She murmurs, eyes on the screen. I jump. 

“I need to put a bell on you or something.” I grumble, hand on my chest. 

“Don’t be a whimp.” Hiyoko sniffs. “I expect a good fight, Yamada.” So she was back to calling me by my last name. Great. 

“Just remember you asked for it.” I reply, crossing my arms and smirking. “Tell you what; I win you call me Takara or Kara. I lose, you can call me Yamada.” She frowns. 

“What?” I chuckle. 

“I prefer Takara to Yamada, so let’s make a bet.” I explain. She chuckles. 

“Alright, fine. I’ll take that bet, Yamada.” She walks off before I can reply, and I shake my head. Always a mystery, that one. 

I then notice that Izuku is against Shinso. I look around and find Shinso walking over to Izuku. He acts casual, glancing at the board like that was why he was there. 

“That is you, right?” He asks calmly. “Izuku Midoriya?” Izuku jumps, startled but manages a nod. Shinso smiles. “A pleasure. So, you excited?” I notice Ojiro walking over like he knew what could happen. I walk faster to get over there. Izuku opens his mouth, but before I can call out or Izuku can speak, Ojiro has his tail over Izuku’s mouth. 

“Not so fast.” He grumbles, glaring at Shinso like he’d been about to hurt Izuku. I finish my approach. 

“There you are, Shinso!” I call. Ojiro is so startled, he releases Izuku. 

“Hey, Takara.” Shinso replies, smiling. “So you got in after all. Congrats.” I chuckle. 

“Yeah, pure luck.” Ojiro looks ready to pop from either confusion or anger. 

“Wait, Takara, you know this guy?” I frown at Ojiro. 

“Yeah I do. We went to middle school together.” 

“So you know his Quirk?” I sigh. 

“Yes. I do. He’s never used it on me, though. I know you don’t believe me, but Shinso’s a good guy.” Ojiro scoffs, then walks away. Izuku looks between us before going after Ojiro. I decided to stay with Shinso. 

“Thanks for that.” I sigh. 

“No problem.” 

“I know what you’re gonna say.” He says before I could say anything else. I raise a brow. 

“Oh?” I ask. 

“Yeah. It’s because of me brainwashing my team for the cavalry battle that the tail guy is suspicious of me.” I nod. 

“Well glad you know that.” I mumble. “Look, Shinso; you keep pulling stunts like that, people will never see past the Quirk. I’m sorry to be blunt but it’s true. You have to earn people’s trust, make them see how good a person you are.” He chuckles. 

“You keep saying that. I know that in my head, but sometimes I get carried away.” 

“That’s gonna happen but you have to keep a level head here. I get you’ll have to use it in these fights, but use it sparingly, okay?” Shinso smirks. 

“Takara, I’ll win. No one knows how to break my hold on them, so I’ll win easily.” 

“Unless you fight me. I know how to break free if you use it on me.” I point out. 

“Takara, I’ll keep my promise. I’ve been looking at fighting styles, so I’ll try my best at physical fighting if we’re paired up.” I nod. 

“To make it fair I won’t use my Quirk on you, either. It’ll be a normal fight.” Shinso ruffles my hair. 

“Trust you to play fair even when you know it’s not the smart play.” He notes. I roll my eyes. 

“Whatever, dork. You’ll see what I can do when I fight.” 

“Yeah yeah. See yah around.” I wave him off. I then went to find Izuku. 

“Okay, let’s push pause for a momentary interlude!” Dad cheers. “Before the battles begin, it’s time for some pulse-pounding side games!” I take that as a cue to leave, not interested in the games. The less my blood sugar yo-yos the better. 

Arriving in the 1-A waiting room, I find Izuku and Ojiro there. 

“Can I beat something like that?” Izuku was asking as I take a seat as if I were meant to be here. The boys look surprised, but they accept my presence readily. I tilt my head. 

“Sorta. If it were any other circumstance than 1-on-1 fights, you could be able to.” I explain automatically. Then realize the question was at Ojiro. “Sorry.”

“No you know him better, apparently.” He replies. I nod. 

“He’s actually pretty powerful, in a way. People who don’t know his Quirk wouldn’t be able to break out of his control. You answer a question, you’re his, but there is a way out. Simply put; you need external stimuli, like a push or pinch. Something to jolt your adrenaline and stimulate pain. It doesn’t need to be something extreme, just a little.” Izuku nods. 

“Which means I can’t rely on that.” I nod. 

“That’s what I meant by you maybe winning in anything but a 1-on-1 match.” I reply, sighing. “Honestly, your best shot is saying nothing to him and fighting him hand-to-hand.” I then run a hand down my face. “I don’t know who to root for, but I guess I wanted to even the playing field.” I continue. Izuku sighs. 

“Even though you know him, thanks for telling me.” 

“Don’t sweat it. Understand if Shinso asks I’ll tell him the basics of your power.” Izuku seems to pick up what I was saying (I wouldn’t reveal his secret but I’d give Shinso something to go on) and nods. 

“Of course. Thanks again.” I smile. 

“Good luck. He’ll try to get you to talk.” 

Izuku fist-bumps Ojiro and I and we walk together back out to the arena. 

“You told him?” Shinso asks after I separate from my friends. I stop walking. 

“It felt fair. I’m sorry.” I reply softly. 

“You know what doesn’t change my strategy, right?” 

I nod. “I guess that’s why I told him. I knew it wouldn’t matter to you, but I felt it fair to warn him.” 

Shinso sighs. “Fair or not, it’s done. Honestly, it won’t matter. I’ll still find a way to make him talk and get him under my Quirk.” 

I smirk. “You’ll try. I’ll watch you. Honestly, I don’t know who to vote for.” 

“I don’t expect you to vote for anyone. It’s enough that you’re watching and not judging me by my Quirk.” I ruffle his hair. 

“You know it!” I then wave and make my way to the Class 1-A seating and sit down, sighing contentedly. 

“I saw your ranking, Takara. It’s fortunate you got into the final round.” Comes Tenya’s voice behind me. I start a little and turn to look at him. 

“Yeah...congrats on getting into the finals too!” I reply, genuinely happy for him. He deserved it. He smiles a little. 

“It was thanks to Todoroki’s leadership.” He says humbly. “But thank you.” I nod. 

“Anytime.” One of the things I liked about Tenya is that he never forced conversation, always saying what he wanted to say then leaving it at that. I turn to watch the games, almost feeling bad for skipping them, but I needed a rest. I still felt a bit tired from all the excitement of the day. 

“I saw you’re up against someone from your cavalry team, that right?” 

I nod. “Yeah. She was the leader of our team She’s a nut, but I like her.” 

Tenya smiles. “Trust you to make friends of your enemies.” 

I roll my eyes. “She’s not an enemy. No one here is really an enemy. This is a friendly competition at heart. This isn’t meant to divide people.” 

Tenya chuckles. “I suppose so. Still, it is a competition. You have to treat it like one.” 

“I know.” The relative quiet of the arena settled between us again. I watch Cementoss begin to create the platform for the coming matches using his Quirk. “I hope to have that kind of control of my Quirk one day. I mean he’s not even trying and he’s making an entire structure.” I’d spoken without thinking, leaning back in my chair in the row with the best view of the arena. 

“Hmm, full control of your Quirk is an admirable goal, Takara. I think you have the drive to achieve it, based on what I’ve seen so from you.” I smile, looking him in the eye. 

“Thanks, Tenya. That means a lot.” I tell him. I then see Cementoss create the last little bit of the platform and stand. 

“That’s it. I’m pretty much done here.” He says. 

“Thank you, Cementoss!” Dad cheers, the screen showing him smiling happily, waving his arms, and in general being Dad. “Hey, sports fans! Are you ready?!” The response is instant and loud, the cheering almost rattling the entire stadium. “After all the action you’ve already witnessed, it’s time for the real battles to begin! Can you feel the excitement! Our competitors are on their own now. Sometimes heroes only have themselves to rely on. Heart, skill, strength, wisdom, courage! They’ll have to use all these things to rise to the top!” My class had been filtering in while I was focused on what was going on, I notice, as Dad pauses for the cue that the fight could start. It comes fairly quickly, Dad having timed things fairly well. The cue, flames from the corners further from where the actual fight would be held. “Alright, audience! Let’s cut to the good stuff and not delay these finals any longer!” Dad spreads his arms. “Welcome our first fighters!” 

The screen displays Shinso and Izuku. We’d had our picture taken before being shown to the waiting room. We were all decidedly nervous, but Izuku showed it a bit too much. He looked like someone had threatened him. “Whoa! He looks kinda scared in that picture, doesn’t he?” Dad teases as the boys walk toward the platform. “It’s Izuku Midoriya from the Hero Course, versus Hitoshi Shinso from General Studies, a guy who hasn’t done anything to stand out yet. The rules are simple! Immobilize your opponent or force them out of the ring! You can also win by making the other person cry ‘Uncle’!” Dad smirks. “Bring on the injuries cus we’ve got our very own Recovery Girl waiting on standby! So put your morals aside and don’t be afraid to play dirty!” I sigh. Did he really have to talk like that? “But of course no life-threatening crap, folks. That’s not allowed! Real heroes use their powers to throw villains in jail, not kill them!” 

Cementoss sits in the referee’s chair, waving a little as he did. “I’ll stop anyone who gets too rough.” He murmurs. Izuku takes a deep breath, preparing for his match. 

“So you can just give up, huh?” Shinso asks. “In a way, this is a test of how strong your spirit is. If you know what  you want your future to hold for you, you can’t worry about what other people think.” I smile proudly at him. I think I said something very similar to him once. I’m glad he’s taking it to heart. 

“Ready?!” Dad cheers, about to officially start the match. 

‘That monkey was going on about his pride earlier,” Dad talks over Shinso to start the match, but neither fighter moves to engage the other, “but I just think he’s an idiot for throwing away his chance like that.” 

I bite my lip. Shinso had said he’d try to get Izuku to talk, but this seemed over the top in some ways. Talking so negatively about Ojiro was a harsh way to get Izuku to talk and fall under his Quirk. 

Unfortunately, Izuku was taking the bait, eyes narrowing in anger. He starts walking forward, livid. I bite my lip, knowing what was about to happen. 

“Don’t you talk about him that way!” Izuku roars, slowing and appearing listless as Shinso’s Quirk takes hold. Shinso smirks as Izuku eyes gloss over. 

“That’s it. I win.” I sigh. It was just like Shinso said; he’d get his opponents under his Quirk, and then it would be over. With no one close enough to jolt Izuku out of Shinso’s control, Shinso could secure victory fairly easily. 

He might even be able to win the entire festival just using his Quirk. As long as he could get people to talk to him he’d win. 

“Aaahhh! I warned him not to say anything!” Oijiro groans, hands on his head. He was hoping he’d helped Izuku win against Shinso. 

To be honest, I’m not terribly surprised at this outcome. Shinso knows how to get people to talk, even if it is a bit harsh. 

“Hey, what’s the dealyo?!” Dad cries, “This is the first match, and it’s started with a bang! The fight has just begun and Izuku Midoriya is completely frozen!” 

I watch as Izuku remains still, awaiting Shinso’s order to walk out of bounds. If something doesn’t change, Izuku will lose this match and be out of the tournament!

[levi-inthesun]

The Cycle of Life and Death, Chapter 3

Summary: Mia came to Tony Stark with a problem- everything she touches decays and dies, everything. She consents to being put in a cryo-sleep so that Tony can study Mia’s problem and try to find some solution that allows her to exist, well, period.

Now, she’s awake.

Pairing- (Eventual) Bucky x Mia (OC)

(gif is not mine)

The next day, Tony was at your door with a psychologist, not knowing how else to help you. James left, and she sat down after introducing herself let you know if you wanted to talk, you could, and if you didn’t want to you didn’t have to. 

You both sat quietly for a while until tears were streaming down your face. That was all you did in your first session.

In the next session, your thoughts were racing everywhere and even if you wanted to talk you wouldn’t have known where to begin. 

It was at the end of the third session that you finally said something.

“I’m a monster.”

She smiled kindly, “We can work with that.” Then posed the question, “Why do you feel you are a monster?”

It ran through your mind for the next few days. 

Why do you feel you are a monster? Because I suck the life out of everything I touch.

Why do you feel you are a monster?

Because I was turned into a killer.

Why do you feel you are a monster?

Because it runs in my veins.

Answers and justifications ran through your mind anytime you thought of the question, and eventually, memories. 

You had been walking with Loki in silence when suddenly the thoughts became too much. Loki had been helping you tap into your memories, but on the days when it became too much, you’d go for a walk with him and he would help distract you. 

Today, it wasn’t working. 

You excused yourself to try to work through the chaos in your mind.

Bucky ran into the gym when he heard screaming and cursing, he threw open the doors where he saw you letting your emotions out on the same punching bag he had touched you for the first time. 

“DAMNIT! DAMNIT DAMNIT DAMNIT!” you screamed as you threw punches at the punching bag, “FUCK ALL THIS! GO TO HELL!” Your last hit sent the bag flying off of its hinge and landing on the floor next to a wall. “AHHH!” let out as you began sinking to the floor, holding your knees to your chest, angry sobs erupted from you, shaking your form.

Bucky quickly made his way over, “Mia, it’s me, it’s Bucky, it’s going to be okay,” he said as he pulled you into his lap. 

Then he heard five words he vividly remembered crying out himself.

“I don’t want to remember…” you sobbed.

It was while he was being re-calibrated in Wakanda. As progress was made in the beginning, the terrible memories he had buried as far away as he could had begun to resurface. He had wrapped himself into a ball, grasping at his head, crying out the same words, “I don’t want to remember anymore.” 

Then Steve held him and made him feel safe. 

So he just held you as painful sobs were choked out and you buried yourself into his chest. 

Bucky held you for what had felt like hours, and from the way the sky was fading from pastel colors to darkness, you knew it had to have been. 

As your cries quieted, you focused on the sounds of him breathing, in and out, and the beating of his heart until you managed to match his breaths. You moved so that you were no longer on his lap, now sitting next to him, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Doll, you can talk to me, if you want, you know that right?” he asked, gently brushing the hair from your face.

You nodded, “I know, and I want to, but it’s hard for me.”

He smiled softly and waited.

After taking a few deep breaths you told him about the kidnapping. The torture. The pain. You weren’t sure how long they had you, but at one point you managed to break free. Afraid to go home, you contacted your boyfriend and had him meet you in central park. 

“I will never forget the look in his eyes, James. The realization that I had killed him by my touch… it will haunt me till the day I die.”

You took another deep breath before turning to look at Bucky, looking in his eyes, finding that familiar pain and sorrow, and you knew he understood. 

“James,” you said after a moment, “I am a monster. Destruction is the only thing left behind me and anticipated before me. I don’t deserve anything Tony or even you, have done for me.” 

He stared back into your eyes, finding it hard to believe, yet easy to understand, that the woman who sat next to him felt so many painful things about herself.

“Amelia, no,” he said, barely above a whisper, “you aren’t a monster. Trust me. I was brainwashed into being a super-assassin. It took time to learn, as it will you, but you are not a monster. They controlled you. They made you do those things. It isn’t your fault.” 

You shook your head and stood up from next to him, looking him over once more, noting his flesh still hadn’t been infected before walking away. 

“Please, Mia, let’s just… we can get through this, okay?”

You wanted to turn back, to believe James when he said you weren’t a monster. Instead, you walked out of the gym and went to your room, changing out of your sticky clothing from sweating and crying, putting on a different pair of gloves and a scarf, you went out into the night. 

Bucky couldn’t sleep. With what you had said to him earlier echoing in his mind he made his way to your room and knocked quietly, but with no answer. He knocked again before cracking the door open to find your dark, empty room.

He ran to notify Steve, who let Tony know. Almost everyone was out looking for you, besides Wanda who stayed behind just in case you came back. 

It had been hours since Bucky had last seen you so Tony had FRIDAY going over security footage from the compound, surrounding traffic lights, bus stations, airport, all of it. Sam and Steve were on a lead, apparently, a man at a bar had been “flirting back and forth” with her when her eyes went black and she dared him to touch her again. 

Bucky, on the other hand, had made his way to New York City, and now, was standing in central park where you told him you had briefly met your lover before his body decayed before your eyes. 

It was a more secluded spot, which made sense as to why the man’s death hadn’t been a huge scene. He stood about where you would have been, according to your description. He then closed his eyes, centering himself, before he opened them back up to scan around him. There was a slim path behind him. He then walked wherever the path took him. After about 20 minutes, he found himself looking under a large tree next to an unmarked building. 

He could see your one of your feet outstretched from the other side of the tree and listened. He let out a sigh of relief as he heard your lungs expanding and collapsing with each breath, the steady beat of your heart. 

Not wanting to scare you, he made sure to step on some leaves that were on the ground as he walked up to you.

“Took you long enough,” you mumbled. 

Bucky let out another sigh of relief as he saw you completely. Laid out on the grass, staring up through the small canopy the tree made above you.

He sat down next to you. And surprised both of you at his words, “Where the hell have you been? What, you think you can just leave without telling anyone where you were going? That’s not how it works.” His voice stern, but filled with pain. 

You sat up and looked at him, and instead of shooting back a sassy comment, you wrapped your arms around him. 

“I’m okay,” you said in hushed tones, “I am alright. I’m here.” 

He breathed in your scent as you held him. You might have the powers of death and decay, but you smelled like life- sunshine, rain, earthy. 

You pulled back after a moment. “You should tell everyone you have me and I’m alright, that we will be back soon.”

He nodded and spoke over the comm, letting the rest of the team know exactly what you had told him.

“I’m sending the quinjet, it will be there in-”

“Just trust me, Steve, we will be back in a few hours. Don’t send the quinjet, okay?”

James then turned back to you. “What happened, Mia? Why did you run out on me?”

You stood up and reached your hand out to him to help him up. He took it even though you both knew he didn’t need it.  You began walking the way Bucky had just come.

“I was angry, I don’t respond well to anger because I’m not sure what I’m going to do. So I went to a bar, which was so stupid, of course, and let myself pretend I was normal and would just get drunk and forget about everything, except, I can’t get drunk,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Then this guy started hitting on me and wouldn’t leave me alone and eventually touched me. Luckily over my sleeve, but I then dared him to touch me again and could feel my power taking over. So then I ran from that. After wandering aimlessly, I saw a train that was heading to Central Park, and I hopped on. I realized I never made peace with his death… I never forgave myself. So I made my way back to where I last saw him, held him. I actually slept on the bench right there.”

You pointed to the bench as you both passed by it. You then let go of James’ hand and knelt down on the ground, on the spot that would forever be ingrained in your memory. You bent over and kissed the ground, offering a silent goodbye before standing up and rejoining James. 

You refused to look back, but he did and smiled widely to himself as he watched a small, dark flower begin to sprout from where your lips had touched the ground. 

Back on the train, you ended up sleeping on Bucky’s lap. He stayed awake the entire time, running his flesh fingers through your hair, and quickly sent a text to Tony before he forgot.

[officialworldofmistren]

Would You...? (Pascal x Nyraen)

A fun little Valentine’s Day excerpt from Mistren. Got three more of these to finish after this one... And Valentine’s Day is long over.

Basic Summary: Nyraen is a dark elf noble and a self-absorbed and sadistic brat. Pascal is a blind dark elf thief who grew up outside of the home country of his people. These two have a thing for each other despite homosexuality being banned in the dark elf home nation of Nesmeri. Pascal is in love and just really wishes that Nyraen weren’t brainwashed into believing that love is a weakness.

Enjoy.

---

Nyraen awoke to a tapping noise coming from his window.

A pair of pale grey eyes seemed to peer inside his dorm room, although he knew their owner couldn’t possibly be looking in. He rolled his own bright red eyes and opened the window for his visitor. “Pascal...”

The blind dark elf grinned and pecked the smaller elf’s lips playfully. “Nyraen~”

Pascal climbed through the window. He reached into his bag and produced a rectangular object with text written on it in a language Nyraen was unfamiliar with. “I brought you something I think you may like.”

Nyraen took it from Pascal and tried to decipher what it said. He ticked one long, pointed fingernail against his teeth as he tried to guess what the characters meant, but it was no use. They weren’t elvish letters, nor any he’d studied.

“It’s called chocolate, in case you were wondering. You’re meant to eat it.”

“Trying to poison me?” Nyraen scoffed. 

Pascal snickered, until he realized Nyraen wasn’t laughing. He tensed up.“You... You’re not serious, are you?”

Nyraen chuckled and assured him, “Please. I know you won’t try to kill me. You have no reason to.”

“I wouldn’t try to kill you because the very thought is abhorrent to me,” Pascal said softly. 

Nyraen popped a square of chocolate into his mouth, eyes lighting up at the sweet flavor. After a moment, he rolled his eyes again and replied, “And I suppose you’d never hurt a single dark elf within this entire city.”

“If I were forced to, then I would kill someone to save myself or my friends... Or you.”

Nyraen smirked. “If you’re trying to impress me, that’s not gonna cut it. Just about any dark elf would be willing to kill. I could go to any street corner and get someone to play assassin for me.”

“I never said I’d assassinate someone for you. I meant that if your life were in danger, or if you were being imprisoned or tortured, then I’d kill someone to save you.”

“Ah, my knight in shining armor! That’s almost storybook...” Nyraen purred. He set his treat on the nightstand, climbed onto Pascal’s lap, and wrapped his arms around the taller elf’s shoulders.

The tension left Pascal’s body as he felt Nyraen’s soft lips on his own.

They parted slowly, Pascal drawing in a deep breath to calm his racing heart. “I love you.”

They both froze...

Pascal knew that Nyraen had been raised to believe that attachments were a sign of weakness. He knew that, and yet he’d let it slip out so easily. To say “I love you” was borderline blasphemy in Nesmeri. It went against the teachings of their gods... The only ones deserving of love and devotion in the belief system of dark elves were the gods, as they were the only beings who would never betray you.

Pascal’s heart felt as if it had turned to ice in his chest. The warmth and tenderness had been replaced by fear of rejection... Fear of losing his first love.

Nyraen, meanwhile, was desperately trying to stop the warmth budding in his heart. His eyes were wide as he studied Pascal, who looked as if he’d just accidentally admitted to a horrendous crime instead of simply confessing his love. 

But then again, in Nesmeri he had committed a horrendous crime.

Quickly, Nyraen thought of a way to remedy the situation. A smug grin spread across his face as he relaxed. “Come on now. You don’t really mean that.”

Pascal took another deep breath. “I’m sorry, Nyraen... I meant it.”

Nyraen pouted and glared at Pascal, trying again to stifle the fluttering in his chest. He was glad Pascal couldn’t see the redness creeping onto his cheeks.

The small wizard whispered a spell of Telepathy and sent a quick message to a professor.

“Nyraen, what are you doing?”

“Proving a point.”

“What do you mean?!” Pascal asked frantically.

“I sent a message to one of the professors. He should be here soon,” Nyraen smirked. “So if you love me, will you stay if I ask you to, Pascal? Would you die for me? They’ll send you to the executioner’s block if they catch you.”

“And if they find a wanted criminal in your room?”

“I’ll tell them you were trying to steal something from me. I have a few gems for spell components after all.”

Nyraen climbed off of Pascal’s lap and crossed his arms smugly, knowing that surely Pascal would leave.

...The thief sat obediently on the edge of the bed. He didn’t move a muscle.

Nyraen’s smirk slowly slipped away. He pursed his lips, waiting - hoping - for Pascal to get up and make his escape.

As the professor’s torch light shined beneath the door, Nyraen quickly cast another spell and magically locked him out. “What are you doing?!” he whispered frantically to Pascal. “Get out of here! Run away!”

The professor knocked on the door and tried to push the door open.

“Go, you moron!” Nyraen said, his voice only barely above a whisper. “You’ve proven your love, okay? So please just go!”

“They’ll whip you if they think you called a professor in the middle of the night for no reason. I’m not letting you get hurt.”

The professor was practically beating the door down. “Nyraen! You open this door right now or you will be punished!”

Nyraen pulled Pascal off the bed with a strength he never knew he had. “I can take a whipping. I can’t watch you die! Please, Pascal, go!”

Finally, Pascal escaped back out through the window.

Nyraen grabbed the chocolate from the nightstand and hid it under his pillow. 

He opened the door for the professor, heart still hammering from fear, and innocently asked, “What is it, professor?”

“Your message,” the professor growled.

“I don’t recall sending a message... Are you sure it wasn’t another student?”

The professor grabbed his arm roughly, sneering at the lie. “I should hope you remember the punishment for wasting my ti-”

A tap at the window caught both of their attention.

“What is that?”

Nyraen shrugged. “I have no idea, sir.”

Another tap.

The professor released him to check the window. Nyraen took a deep, shaky breath.

The window opened, and in a blur of movement, Pascal had his professor pinned against the wall with a dagger at his throat. Nyraen gasped, somehow still shocked by Pascal’s speed, though he’d seen the rogue in fights several times already. “Am I to presume that you are the reason for the scars on my Nyraen’s back?”

“Nyraen, you little bastard! What is the meaning of this?!”

Nyraen only stared, jaw hanging open at Pascal’s boldness.

Pascal’s dagger cut ever-so-slightly into his professor’s throat. “You would insult him in my presence? Bold. Incredibly stupid as well, but bold.”

“Pascal...”

“You conspire with a rogue? A blind, thieving rogue?! And against a master wizard?!” The professor cried furiously.

Nyraen shut the door behind him, fearing the academy’s soundproof walls wouldn’t be enough to keep this situation private if it were left open. And he knew exactly where this situation had to go if Pascal didn’t want the both of them getting executed.

“Well, Pascal, you know you have to kill him now. He knows too much.”

“Not if you leave Nesmeri with me...”

“I’m not leaving, Pascal. Kill him and be done with it.”

Pascal sighed, and lifted the professor almost effortlessly. (Pascal was tall for a dark elf at five-foot-eleven, and was thus quite a bit stronger than the diminutive five-foot-four professor. Not to mention that wizards typically aren’t capable of physically overpowering an opponent at close range.) He threw the professor out the window, ignoring the curses, protests, and struggling.

“Why didn’t you just stab him?”

“Because this way they’ll conclude that he fell. His room is right above yours, isn’t it?”

Nyraen nodded. As a noble, there was really no way that he’d be blamed for the professor’s death, unless he was found in his room. Murders committed by nobles tended to be overlooked in Nesmeri... But he knew that Pascal was raised outside of Nesmeri, and may not know that particular fact.

“At least there’s one less person giving you whippings.”

Nyraen shrugged. “Mother-” he paused, quickly correcting himself. A household Matron or Patron must always be addressed as such. “Matron Maleira will still give out punishments when I return home.”

Pascal growled, muttering Maleira’s name almost as a curse rather than a name.

Nyraen reached up a hand to caress Pascal’s cheek tenderly. “You surprised me.”

Pascal leaned down to kiss Nyraen. 

They kissed passionately, but Nyraen pushed Pascal away when it started to become too heated. “You need to go. I don’t want to be awake if someone finds his body before morning.”

“Right,” Pascal nodded. 

As he left, he heard Nyraen say teasingly, “Goodbye, my handsome knight.”

He snickered. “Sleep well, my spoiled prince.”

[claraxbarton]

About Today

Just a quick little fic for @ussfriendship, who is a lovely person and I hope this helps a little after the shitty few weeks and shit day. You’re incredible.

--

The thing is, Clint is fine.

He is.

Really.

All things considered, yeah, sure, he’s a little fucked up.

But who wouldn’t be?

He’d helped an alien god invade Earth and been responsible for thousands of deaths and billions of dollars in property damage.

He’d had his fucking mind controlled by a shiny rock thing.

He’d fought robots on a flying city.

He’d found out that his decade long career of being a white hat was actually a decade of him being an agent for HYDRA.

And that was just the shit from the last three years.

So, no, he wasn’t, like… sleeping through the night, any night. And maybe every time he saw a flash of blue light - and in NYC, that was pretty fucking often - he got tense and had to work real damn hard to regulate his breathing. And maybe he still had… what had Bobbi called it? An overwhelming self-hatred and need to self-sabotage every good moment of his life. Or something like that.

But he was fine.

One-hundred percent dealing with shit. Or at least avoiding it.

Until James “Bucky” Fucking Barnes came into the picture.

Sure, Clint was happy that Cap had his long lost best friend back. Who wouldn’t be?

And yeah, of course Clint was happy there was another member of the former brainwashed assassins club.  Maybe not happy, that made it sound like he was glad Barnes had been tortured for seven decades. Or however long he’d been out of the Cryotube in that time. Relieved? Something. Clint felt something about the fact that there was no more Winter Soldier.

Except, of course, there was still a -the? - Winter Soldier.

Cap brought Bucky home like he’d adopted a puppy from the pound, stood there fucking grinning while Wanda checked him over and confirmed that yeah, whatever science the Wakandas had done, had removed the triggers from Bucky’s head. He put one massive, patriotic hand on Bucky’s shoulder and said that they were both ready to join/rejoin the Avengers.

And then Cap had turned to Tony, and they’d both cried, and they’d hugged, and everyone had looked away, and of course Clint had had the bad luck to find himself looking at fucking Bucky.

He knew about the Winter Soldier - as a budding assassin he’d worshipped the myth of the man who left no trace of himself and made impossible shots. As Natasha’s partner years later, he’d been at her bedside when she woke up from surgery after the Odessa clusterfuck. He’d listened to her talk about being trained by him as a child and an adolescent, had listened to her fight back tears and her anger and her fears.

And he’d seen the footage of the clusterfuck in D.C.

So he knew what Bucky looked like. Knew what the Bucky of 1945 had looked like, knew what the Bucky of 2014 looked like.

And he looked, quite fucking unfairly, good.

With the eyes and the hair and the jaw and the goddamn eye crinkles.

And then Bucky went and fucking smirked at Clint, while Cap cried on Tony’s shoulder and everyone else stared off into space and wondered how the fuck things had come to this, Bucky fucking smirked at him.

So, yeah.

Clint had been fucking fine. Until Bucky.

And his damn smirks.

He was everywhere.

In the gym. Smirking at Clint.

On the range. Smirking at Clint.

In the med bay. Smirking at Clint.

On the Quinjet. Smirking at Clint.

Shooting sentient slug monsters. Smirking at Clint.

Dancing with Nat at Tony’s wedding. Smirking at Clint.

So Clint did what he did best, and he avoided the shit out of why it bothered Clint so much when Bucky smirked at him.

He started avoiding the gym.

He started avoiding the range.

He… failed to avoid the med bay.

He told Cap to put him on a different mission rotation.

So no more smirking on the Quinjet.

No more smirking while shooting sentient slug monsters.

And it wasn’t like anyone else on the team was getting married anytime soon, so no more...smirking while dancing in a fitted tuxedo and looking like a goddamn matinee idol from the last century.

Clint was so good at avoiding the smirking that it was six months before he realized how fucking miserable he was.

And he only realized it then, because he was at a dive bar in Brooklyn, watching a Yankees game on the miniscule television screen above the bar, drinking a shitty local beer that was hoppy as all hell, and a guy sat down next to him and started to flirt with him.

Clint got it. He did.

He was an Avenger. He was a fit guy. He wasn’t ugly. He was, by a lot of people’s standards, decently attractive. But that was only because people didn’t know he was an absolute fucking mess. Like, nuclear waste-site levels of radioactive mess.

So a guy sat down beside Clint, offered to buy him another shitty beer, gave him a look that was pretty much a leer and said he wanted to thank his favorite Avenger.

Clint did what he did best.

He finished off his current shitty beer, and turned to look the guy full on.

The guy had the eyes and the hair and the jaw and they were almost what Clint wanted.

“Am I your favorite Avenger because I’m the one who almost got New York nuked by the World Security Council or because I’m the only one you figure you’ve got a chance of nailing?

And the thing about Clint?

He never missed.

So the guy was scrambling awkwardly away and leaving Clint alone before Clint even realized there was someone standing behind him.

Someone who did have the eyes and the hair and the jaw and the goddamn eye crinkles.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

It wasn’t, probably, the most eloquent greeting ever, but Clint wasn’t much of a poet.

Bucky just fucking smirked and sat down on the seat so recently and rapidly vacated by the last guy.

He raised a finger to get the bartender’s attention, signalled at Clint’s bottle and held up two fingers and Clint had to grimace when two more shitty beers were deposited on the counter.

Bucky’s smirk slid into his own grimace as he took a sip of his beer.

“This tastes like shit.”

“Welcome to the future. Where every goddamn corner of Brooklyn has a brewery and every hipster thinks all you need to make beer is hops. All the fucking hops.”

Bucky set down his beer bottle and turned towards Clint.

And Clint realized, all of a sudden and way too late, just how close Bucky was to him.

Close enough for their knees to touch.

Close enough for Clint to see the scar along the right side of Bucky’s jaw that Nat had apparently given him when she was thirteen and Bucky had been training her in the Red Room. Close enough to see the flecks of blue in his gray eyes.

“So, if I told you that you were my favorite Avenger, would you try to scare me off too?” Bucky asked with another smirk.

Clint stared at him.

Bucky kept smirking.

“Oh, fuck off,” Clint growled. Because it was one thing for random assholes to make the mistake of being attracted to Clint. It was entirely another for a teammate, for the object of Clint’s unacknowledged desires, to sit there and taunt him.

“Not scary enough. I was tortured by HYDRA for decades,” Bucky muttered. “You really want to get rid of me, you’re gonna have to put some effort into it.”

Clint glared.

Bucky kept fucking smirking.

“What the fuck is your deal?” Clint finally asked, knowing he sounded whiny. Because he was whining.

Bucky lifted his eyebrows.

“With the -” Clint gestured at Bucky, then at himself. “What the fuck?”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re asking me,” Bucky said, and he sounded amused.

Which, fine. Clint had had people laugh at him before.

It was fine.

Clint was fine.

“Mind if I ask you a question?” Bucky asked, smoothing his metal thumb over the label of his shitty beer.

“Knock yourself out,” Clint sighed.

“Why’ve you been avoiding me for the last six months?”

Clint could deny. He could claim that he hadn’t been avoiding Bucky.

But he had been. And they both knew it.

“Because,” he grumbled.

“Ah. Gotcha.” Bucky was back to fucking smirking. “Same, pal.”

Clint rolled his eyes and -

And fuck it.

Fuck. It.

He glared at Bucky until the smirk slipped away.

“I was fine until you showed up here,” Clint said. Hissed, really. “I was managing shit, okay? And then you - you just - walk around smirking and you make me want all of these fucking things that I don’t get to have. You just - you can’t just - I have to avoid you, you asshole.”

Bucky’s eyebrows pulled together as he frowned, full lips curving down.

But then his expression smoothed and he reached over with both hands, metal and flesh, and framed Clint’s face between his palms.

“Sweetheart, you get to have whatever you want. Anyone who says different is a stupid asshole. And if you,” Bucky paused, drew in an unsteady breath and licked his lower lip, “if you want me, hell, if you want anything to do with me, then I’m yours.”

Clint doesn’t know what to do. What to say. What to fucking feel.

Because Bucky is looking at him like Clint is someone he wants, like Clint is someone who matters. Like Clint is someone worth having.

Bucky smoothes his metal thumb over Clint’s cheek.

“Say something. Or punch me, if you want,” Bucky tacked on when Clint still remained frozen.

“Pizza.”

Bucky’s face moved through a riot of expressions - confusion, annoyance, concern, sadness - before smoothing back out into what Clint considered was his mission ready smirk.

“We should get some. Pizza.” Clint realized he needed to say more words.

Bucky’s face relaxed.

“Yeah. We should. Pizza.”

Bucky let him go, and Clint immediately wished they could just sit there with Bucky’s hands on his face all night.

Clint dug into his pocket, paid for their drinks, and then stepped away from the bar.

Bucky held out his right hand.

Clint stared at Bucky, then at his hand.

Bucky smirked at him.

Clint slipped his hand into Bucky’s.

And it was fine.

He was fine.

He was so much fucking more than fine.

[kandadiff]

Price of Freedom (3)

-

“Alright Kay” Shawn sighed annoyed at the situation he was in. Earlier while he had you in the room, the reunion he had planned in his head for nearly a year didn’t pan out the way he wanted it to. You hadn’t get go of the fact here he was with Camila when he had stated ‘I came for you.’ He had thought - hoped- that as soon as you saw him all the good memories you had of him would wash away the near year absence you took from him when you left the states. But truth be told you were scared of GD’s reaction and pissed at Shawn for thinking everything could just go back to normal when he obviously had a whole girlfriend who he brought with him. He was trying to explain himself when Camila rushed to get them now he was pissed that I was backing out. He knew you’d never leave Korea without me and he didn’t want to take you by force yet. “Kay for fucks sake you’re being so goddamn dramatic.”

“Watch your fucking mouth” Negan warned him kneeling down to take my face in his hands. “Princess, I swear nothing is going to happen to you. I understand you are terrified but we’re going to be back home soon-”

“Back home where the cops are after me?”

Negan blinked back in surprise; unsure where I got the notion he couldn’t handle that. “Everyones got a fucking price, I’ll pay theirs.”

I shook my head “You don’t understand, even if we do leave Korea, he’ll follow us and then the cops will get us. I don’t want to give birth in prison. And if we don’t leave, your in Korea, your in there territory. They know this place better then I know myself. They’ll landlock us and find us from here.” Negan looked around us then back at me. 

“Whos putting this shit in your head?”i didn’t say anything but Camila gave the slightest smirk that no one caught. Shawn however was growing more and more frustrated. 

“My god, what the hell did they do to you? It made you such a pussy! They even fucking branded you!” He points out the swinging pendant of the Dragon Necklace then shoots his finger at yours, it was a more jeweled out design but the necklaces said one thing to those around Seoul. ‘Proudly Belonging to Red Dragon.’ “They brainwashed both of you!” He was now yelling at you and you swung your fist at his chest which did very little to move him. “He ruined you!” He shouts at you “He made you into -”

“Shawn get the fuck out of the room.” Simon grunts as a warning, he can see Negans fists are balled up tight. Shawns outburst only made the hyperventilating worse and Negan was not having it. 

“Maybe you should” Camila put her hands on his shoulder and Shawn jerked away from her grasp grabbing you rarm and roughly pulling you out of the living room into the bathroom. 

“Listen!” He shouted at you as you tried to get away from his grasp. He shoved you into the wall and locked the bathroom door. “Why? WHY ARE YOU CHOOSEING HIM?! WHY?!” He shouted at you grabbing your shoulders giving you a slight shake. His eyes showed he was hurt but the anger in his voice only served to feed your own rage. 

“WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!”

He completely ignored your outburst and continued in your rant. “I CAME ALL THE WAY TO KOREA TO COME AND SAVE YOU AND YOUR OVER HERE LIVING THE FUCKING LIFE WITH THAT TWO INCH PSYCHOPATH!”

“YOU DIDN’T COME TO SAVE ME!” you screamed right back at him “YOU CAME HERE TO GET ME BACK! YOU CAME HERE BECAUSE YOUR SO OBESSED WITH REPEATING THE PAST! WE CANT! YOU CHOSE ANOTHER WOMAN OVER ME!”

“YOU KNOW THAT WAS A GODDAMN MISTAKE!”

“BUT YOU MADE IT! AND NOW YOU HAVE TO FACE THE EFFECTS OF YOUR CHOICES! THATS REALITY SHAWN!” He glared at you searching your eyes for some emotion he wasn’t going to see then his eyes focused on the glinting jewel that seemed to be mocking him every time the light hit it. He raised his hand and for a moment you thought he was going to strike you. You flinched back as he grabbed the dragon. 

“You really think id hit you? or are you so used to being kicked around by that asshole that you think all men are like that?” you were about to defend G when Shawn started roughly and violently tugging on your necklace. 

“STOP!” You grasped the chain in your own hand feeling the metal start to bit into the back of your neck as it held together trying to prevent breakage. 

“He’s brainwashed you Adi” Shawn said his voice low and eerily calm, his eyes were hyper focused on the dragon in his grasp as he yanked at the chain again and you cried out trying to stop it from breaking. “I’m going to fix you again” he said sounding more like his uncle then himself. “Don’t worry anymore.”

“STOP!” you yanked your head back but he was stronger - a lot stronger then you were. The Chain made a harsh snapping sound as it broke cutting into the back of your neck just a bit until superficial drops of blood came from the small cuts. you reached for the necklace but he was a foot taller then you and 20x stronger. He tossed the piece into the toilet grabbing your wrist before you could grab it out. You screamed as he flushed the toilet and the half a million dollar pendant swirled in a whirlpool down the drain. 

“You should be thanking me.”

-

“Wait-” Hobi shook his head staring down at the screen where a one pink dot started moving fairly quickly while the blue dot stayed put on the map. His arm wrapped from the bullet wound he sustained and still hooked up to an IV he was told to stay home and work on the computers - it was what he was best at. He sat infront of the screens linked to both GD and TOP’s phone changing the color of the dots to properly see exactly where I was (the blue one) and where you (the pink one) were going. He held the phone to his lips telling Bom to focus on the blue dot while he tried to study yours “Adi is moving.”

“What?” Jb asked over the phone. Anyone who was well enough to be out was in some big black truck with an army supply of assult weapons ready to fight. and it was a pissed off JB that was driving one of the cars nearly to the house on the outskirts of Seoul. “Where is she headed?”

“I don’t know” Hobi typed quickly on the computer trying to map where the tracker said you were going. “But shes headed south toward... Busan? Shes going to Busan pretty quickly.”

“Why the fuck would she be going there? Does she even know anyone in Busan?” He looked around the car and everyone shrugged. 

“Shes friendly maybe she actually has a friend out there.” Bam Bam suggested and it was Bom who spoke up from next to Hobi.

“Bobby and her were pretty close, he had a house out there before he went to America.”

Jb cursed under his breath and Hobi sighed “Shes moving pretty quickly, its possible shes in a car.”

“Fuck” JB cursed again and looked through the rearview mirror to V “Get Namjoon on the phone tell him i’m taking B.I and Minzy’s cars with me to find her.” V nodded quickly telling Namjoon what was going on before the boy just decided to put him on the conference call along with TOP and GD.

“Where’s she?” GD asked as soon as he answered the phone.

“Going to Busan.” JB annoyed voice came over the phone.

“What the fuck?” Gd was as confused as everyone nad Bom explained the fact Bobby had a house over there “Thanks my babygirl luring them to a safe house so daddys gang can slaughter every last one of them.” JB sighed at the nickname GD just gave himself.  “Wheres Kalyn?”

“Shes still at the house.” Hoseok said checking the blue dot. It was moving but the space where it was moving was so minimal that he knew I was still in the house. 

“They might be separating them to make it harder for us” Namjoon said his voice oddly calm which meant he was focused and that was dangerous. “But we’re almost at the house.”

“Don't underestimate that old motherfucker.” TOP’s voice was chilling and it served as a warning. He meant ‘Don’t be stupid I expect them to be taking care of and I expect the girls back in one piece’. “We’ll be home soon.” GD and TOP both disconnteced from the call leaving Namjoon, Hobi and JB. 

“Are you sure you don’t need Minzy or B.I’s team?” JB asked again knowing if Namjoon said no it meant he was already hatching a plan of his own. “We have other help if you need it.”

“I know about the other help” he said and paused for a moment before saying “No, I’ll call you when we get her.”

-

I knew Negan was growing impatient and probably hurt at my true words whether or not he wanted to admit that my words did have truth to them. He was underestimating the Red Dragons in there territory. “Kay” he said a little harshly I flinched back at his words and her ran his hand over his face turning toward Simon then back at me. “Princess why don’t you go up to the room and eat something? You must be starving.”

“I’m not hungry.” His words weren’t a question it was him telling me to go upstairs and leave him to figure things out. But I didn’t want to be alone, you were off arguing with Shawn about something in the bathroom and Camila was pretending not to listen while Negan’s men roamed over the house trying to pretended they weren’t badmouthing me - Negans brave princess turned into a sniveling crybaby - or eavesdropping as well. 

“Kid,” Simon said giving me sympathetic eyes “Come on, Ill take up your favorite. You know I found blueberry pancakes especially for you.” I knew they weren’t going to talk with me there so I sucked in my breath and Negan helped me stand up and up the stairs I went. 

I sat on the chair that Camila was at just looking out the window, we lost a day. The sun had long gone down and it was so easy to strike at night. If they were done destroying planes and boats they would be turning inland now. God why was I so stupid? I should have known Negan was in over his head in a place hes never been too. I rested my head looking out the window sill listening to the noises downstairs - the soft patter of footsteps, the low muffled mumbling of Negan’s men talking and the slamming of doors. I narrowed my eyes searching the dark of outside curing the place negan chose to hide had no streetlights, so besides the light from the house it was pitch dark outside. I swore I heard the crushing of gravel under tires. It was quiet nearly drowned out by the noises of the house. But I know I heard it. 

“Hello!” I shouted out of the window but was met with silence then a shadow of something moving toward the house. The shadow was small and could have been a stray animal moving toward the heat of the house as the chill settled into the night but that didn’t stop from my heart beat from quickening. I saw another and moved nack toward the nightstand trying to find a flashlight or something to see what it was but as soon as I started searching the lights started flickering and the house went black. 

“Is that a fucking blackout?!” Someone shouted from downstairs. 

They were here.

[septic-heart-and-mind]

“Abused” | “Imprisoned” (JSE Ego Fic Pt. 1)

A brand new fic is here! I have to thank @thesepticactress who wrote an amazing ego fic (check it out if you haven’t yet seriously), which inspired me to write my own! :D

I’ve been doing a lot of drafting and reworking so I’m kinda nervous about posting this because I’ve worked extra hard on it and I really hope it shows. Anyway I’ll shut up now, hope you enjoy the first part of this new fic! 💚

Charlotte’s (Chase’s Mother) POV

When I first met Mitchell, Chase’s father, he seemed like a charming and decent man, and I thought he was an ideal partner. Once we’d been together a while, though, he started to become manipulative and controlling - but he had his way of making me believe it was my fault, and that he was the victim in it all. He somehow kept me convinced that he was a good guy, doing what he did out of love, and so I stayed with him and eventually ended up getting pregnant with Chase. I thought that he would change back to how he used to be, thinking that he would look after me now that I was carrying his baby, but I was utterly mistaken - it only got worse as time went by. It started by verbally abusing me, which made me begin to fear him and do everything he told me to - even if that meant carrying out chores that I felt too exhausted to do as a result of being pregnant. It just got worse still after that, when his words were no longer his only method of choice for hurting me and became physically abusive. The first time was a single slap, but it left me reeling with shock as I never thought he would raise his hand to me; he was apologetic afterwards, putting on his nice guy act and fooling me once again. I forgave him, thinking that it would never happen again, but that’s the thing with abusive people - it always happens again. Every time, he would make me believe he was sorry and would never do it again, but every time was a lie. I stayed with him, thinking that he would eventually stop and even somehow still believing he was doing it out of love for me. The lies he spun me were so convincing and he brainwashed me into thinking in such a way that I was the one who felt guilty. I was certainly too scared to leave him, as I knew what he was capable of. He always liked a drink but, as time went on, he started to have more and more every day and he never went a day without; he turned into an alcoholic, which only made him more nasty and violent. The physical abuse continued to get worse, even as I became more heavily pregnant. There was a scare when I ended up falling down the stairs, where I thought I would lose my baby - but I was very lucky that he was completely okay. Sometimes, when I was alone in our room, I would rub my bump and talk to him; I would tell him that, although his father hurt me, I would never do anything like that to my little boy. I let him know that I would love him with all my heart and do everything I could to keep him safe.

Eventually, the day came to have my baby; Mitch pretended to be caring as we were in the hospital, holding my hand and being supportive while I was in agony. The pain was worth it when I cradled little Chase in my arms, looking at this beautiful bundle of joy that I held and feeling like the luckiest person alive despite all the abuse I endured. I thought that the abuse would end now that we had a baby at home, but once again I was so wrong. He continued to hurt me, becoming less and less apologetic about it, and he would make Chase cry from shouting at me. He would then yell at poor little Chase to shut up, which of course only made him scream even louder. I would pick him up and soothe him in my softest voice, rocking him gently to calm him down, and eventually he would quieten - only to start crying again the next time his father shouted. Of course, being a baby, he cried for other reasons - but a lot of time, it was down to his horrid father scaring him. He went beyond shouting eventually, and I was terrified that he would actually kill him. I always got up to see to him in the night, but there was one time when I clearly didn’t wake up straight away - because when I did, Mitch had already got up. He was bellowing into my little baby’s face, and then he started to shake him. I screamed at him to stop, and I forced Chase out of his hands and cuddled my boy close. Chase howled his little lungs out, the poor boy, and I did my best to comfort him - and it took me a while to get him back to sleep. I’d heard what shaking a baby can do, so I snuck out to the hospital once Mitch was asleep. Thankfully, Chase was okay; we were lucky again this time. Poor Chase got more and more scared of his father with each passing day, as did I. It got to the point where he would cry just by being picked up by him, feeling unsafe with him - which was exactly how I felt. I didn’t think either of us were safe, yet I was still too frightened of him to leave. We were imprisoned, trapped in a cell of of pain locked by fear.

When Chase became a toddler, no surprise, things still hadn’t changed. In fact, the situation was worse because - now Chase wasn’t a baby anymore - Mitch had no problem taking his abuse of him further. The insults he threw at him became more and more nasty - and he didn’t stop there. One day, when it was cold and icy outside, Chase wanted to go to the park; I was worried, with all the ice, that he would slip and hurt himself, so I didn’t want to risk taking him there.

“Wanna go park!” he cried.

“You can’t, darling, you might hurt yourself,” I responded gently. “We’ll have fun here today, sweetie.”

“No!” he contested, “Wanna go!”

“Not today, sweetheart,” I reiterated apologetically, because I could see how much he wanted to go. Little Chase started to cry. “Oh, no, darling, don’t cry,” I spoke to him softly, “We’ll go out another time, okay?” It was then that Mitch entered the room, and he rolled his eyes with an uncaring sigh when he saw Chase.

“Oh, shut up, you stupid child,” he told him cruelly, which only made him cry more. “What d’ya want, anyway, idiot?” he continued nastily.

“W-Wanna go - park!” he gasped tearfully.

“And you’re crying over that?” he teased him, “You pathetic little boy!” Chase just sobbed louder after hearing that. “Shut the fuck up!” Mitch yelled at him.

“Mummy!” Chase bawled, toddling over to me.

“Mummy! Mummy!” Mitch imitated him mockingly. “I just told ya to shut up!” Mitch grabbed him, and Chase screamed. “You need to learn to do as your told, you disobedient little shit!” he spat, rather too close to the poor boy’s face, and Chase just cried harder still in pure fear.

“Let him go, Mitch,” I begged, tears now in my own eyes as I saw my poor little boy so frightened, but he just ignored my desperate request.

“You wanna go outside, do ya?” he barked at Chase, “Then let’s go outside, shall we?” Mitch dragged him as he screamed for me, taking him outside of the house, and I ran after him. “Let’s see how you like this!” he bullied him, before shoving him into the ice. Chase hit it very hard, and it was no wonder he cried loudly in pain. “Not so fun, is it?” Mitch smirked, before leaving him there and going back into the house.

“Oh, my baby!” I cried out as I rushed over to him. “Come here, darling,” I said softly as I helped him up, and I saw that he had a bruise on his face. He sobbed and choked, and all I could do was cuddle him. “Alright, sweetheart, alright,” I comforted him, stroking his little head gently, “Mummy’s here now, it’s okay. Shhhh.” I picked him up and rocked him like a baby, but I didn’t take him inside because I didn’t want to risk Mitch yelling at him for crying again. That was how all this started, and I couldn’t bear to see my little boy get hurt again. Someone walked by and asked what happened and, out of fear, I just told them that my poor boy slipped on the ice. Chase continued to cry, still in pain and terrified about what just happened with his father. “How about Mummy kisses it better? Yeah?” I suggested lovingly, and I placed a kiss on his cheek - although a little to the side of the bruise, in case it hurt him to touch it. Once he had quietened down, I took him inside to put some ice on the terrible bruise, and he cried as soon as it touched his little face. “I know, darling, I know,” I reacted sympathetically. “This will help make you all better, my angel. Mummy’s gonna make you better.” He eventually got used to the ice, and he started to calm down. “That’s it, good boy,” I praised him as he stood there quietly. Once it had been on for long enough, I gave him another cuddle. “You’re such a brave boy,” I told him affectionately, and I kissed his head gently. I then held his hand to take him to play with his toys. When he saw Mitch, his hand tightened a little on mine. Mitch smirked proudly when he saw the bruise on Chase’s cheek.

“It’s an improvement,” Mitch commented callously with a bottle in his hand, before taking a big swig and swaggering away.

“Just ignore him,” I muttered gently to Chase, and I soon managed to distract him once we started to play with his toys. We had a race with his cars, and he actually started smiling and laughing again despite the big bruise on his face. I was so proud of him for being so brave. He then wanted to get his doll out and play with its little outfits. I loved letting him play with whatever he wanted, rather than forcing gender stereotypes onto him - but his father was different. He’d not caught him with his doll yet, but I feared what would happen when he did. Chase rocked his little baby doll, cutely singing a little lullaby to it, but then he decided he wanted to do something else after putting it to bed. I relaxed thinking that his dad wouldn’t catch him, but then Chase decided he wanted to dress up. Again, I let him do whatever he wanted to do rather than forcing stereotypes, so he got out a little pink tutu to dress up in with an excited smile spread across his face.

“This one, Mummy!” he announced as he picked it out of the box. I helped him to put it on, and then he twirled around happily. “Look, Mummy! I’m ball’ina!” he chirped as he spun and danced.

“You’re beautiful, aren’t you, sweetie?” I smiled at him.

“I’m pwetty!” he stated joyfully. It was at that moment that his father entered the room.

“What the fuck?!” Mitch snapped, “What are you doing, you freak?!” Chase immediately burst into tears as he became frightened. “Get that off right now!” Mitch demanded.

“Don’t wanna!” Chase howled.

“You get it off or I’ll do it for ya!” Mitch yelled in reply. Chase just sobbed.

“Mummy’ll help you,” I spoke softly, assisting him to take the tutu off. He was too shaken to resist, even though he didn’t want to take it off. I cuddled him once it was off, but he continued to bawl his little eyes out, the poor thing. Mitch came even closer, right in his face to intimidate him further.

“You are disgusting,” he muttered nastily. “A pathetic - little - freak.” He then snatched the tutu from me, stormed out of the room briefly, before returning with an evil look in his eye that told me he was about to do something even more horrible to Chase. “Your stupid little dress is about to make a friend,” he smirked, “Time to meet my scissors.” Chase screamed in tears as Mitch tore through the tutu, clinging to me as tears poured down his cheeks which were reddening from the loudness of his cries. “Fit for the bin, I think,” Mitch laughed once he’d finished. But before he left, the smirk left his face as he glared angrily at poor little Chase. “Shut the fuck up, you stupid, pathetic, fucked up little shit!” he barked at him, before finally leaving him alone and taking the ripped up outfit with him to throw it out. Chase was heartbroken and petrified, his body shaking like a tiny leaf as I held him. He cried so loudly that I was worried he would end up giving himself a sore throat. I soothed him softly, stroking his head gently, trying to think of a way to calm down my poor little boy. I reassured him that we would find a way for him to play with his ‘girl toys’ (as his dad would probably call them) without his father finding out, and I told him that he was a beautiful child to me and not a freak. I told him that his father is just nasty and not to believe any of the horrid things he said. Poor Chase didn’t even understand why his father did what he did just because he wore a tutu; he cried that it wasn’t fair, because girls could play dress up without their mummy or daddy being mean. He had a valid point and it broke my heart that a toddler could understand gender equality and the subject of toys not being gendered, yet a full grown adult like his father didn’t. Once I eventually calmed him down a little, so that he was no longer crying his lungs out, I knew I needed to do something nice for him to cheer him up. “You’ve been ever such a brave boy today,” I lovingly praised him.”Mummy’s gonna give you a special treat.” I carried him downstairs, went into the kitchen and I went into one of the cupboards; I got out a tin, immediately making Chase get excited. I took out one of his favourite chocolate cookies and handed it to him.

“Thank you,” he sniffled sweetly with a watery smile, before taking a bite. He almost looked completely content as he enjoyed his biscuit, and again I was proud of his braveness. Chase had to be brave every day, Mitch abused us both daily with cruel words and violence. Chase and I were both terrified of him. Chase would often ask me if we could go away so that his horrible father couldn’t be nasty to us anymore, and it was hard to explain to him why we couldn’t. He was still a little boy, and it was difficult for him to understand; I wanted to get him away, and myself, but I just couldn’t. I didn’t know exactly what Mitch would do to us, but I knew it would be horrible. I wasn’t even sure we would be able to get past him to get out of the house, as he questioned me every time I tried to go anywhere. There really seemed to be no escape from this hell. People always ask why anyone stays in an abusive relationship, and this is why; fear makes people do strange things, including staying with someone who does nothing but hurt them and their child. I hated myself for putting poor Chase through it every day, because he deserved so much better than this; I feared that he would grow up traumatised and damaged, and it would all be my fault. All I could do is be there for him as best I could, and hope that he would learn from me rather than his father - and that he would somehow grow up happy in spite of what his father did to him.

[billysjoel]

hey!! so i recently followed + i'm in love with your blog + writing so i was gonna send a prompt + if you're busy or not taking them it's totally cool i just thought i'd send it your way cause i'd love to read this in your style!!! so i thought maybe jd and dr cox have been together for a few months + one day carla + turk are looking for jd + he's nowhere to be found + he left his pager at the hospital so they page dr cox when they get home + the sound goes off in jd's bedroom - cue confessions!

first of all, thank you SO much!! and i’m so sorry this took so long, but thank you again for sending it! it turned out a lot longer than i planned (and a touch more dramatic) but that’s all right by me :)

             It hadbeen so long since the two of them had had an afternoon off together and Perryhad wanted to make the most of it.  He’dshown up at JD’s apartment with some takeout and a movie he’d rented; both werestill sitting out on the coffee table in the living room as they’d quicklygotten distracted with each other and moved into JD’s bedroom.  And now JD was fast asleep with his head onPerry’s chest while Perry slowly drew his fingers through JD’s hair, a softsmile on his face.  How it had only beenthree and a half months was beyond Perry. He felt as though he and JD had been together for ages, and yet itsomehow felt like it was only yesterday that they’d begun all this.  

             It wasn’tthat they were trying to sneak around, but they both felt that there’d be toomuch talk, too much gossip, especially at the hospital, if they were to gopublic with their relationship.  Perryhad, in fact, offered to let JD tell Turk and Carla, but the younger doctor hadbrushed the idea off, saying they’d never let him live it down.  Perry had a sneaking suspicion that JD wasactually afraid to tell his friends, but he left the subject alone, notentirely minding having JD all to himself.

             JD mumbledsomething in his sleep and rolled over, his head leaving Perry’s chest, andPerry smiled fondly as he watched the other man.  Perry was head over heels – and he knew it,too.  And instead of running from it, hefound himself embracing this new, but very rewarding way of honesty andcommunication.  Content to spend the restof the afternoon in bed alongside his lover, Perry settled down next to JD,intending to pull him back into his arms – right where he belonged – but hispager had other ideas.  Sighing, Perryhurriedly left the bed, not wanting the sound to disturb JD.  Wearing only his boxers and the t-shirt he’dhad under his lab coat, he fished his pager out of his scrubs pocket and backedout into the living room, carefully closing JD’s bedroom door as he went.  He looked down at his pager and read theshort message:  911 – JD missing!

             His browfurrowing, Perry looked up from his pager only to find two pairs of astonishedeyes already on him.  It wasn’t like him,but Perry couldn’t help but blush ever-so-slightly as Turk and Carla gaped athim.  Given his state of undress and theroom he’d just left, it was quite obvious what had transpired before the two ofthem had come home, and Perry couldn’t deny it. And a small voice in the back of his head reminded him that he didn’t want to deny it, not anymore.  

  ��          “Ghandi,”Perry said gruffly as he straightened up. “Carla.”

             “What in the hell is going on?” Turk cried, hisvoice much higher than normal.  Carlaelbowed him, though she looked quite shocked herself.

             Perryopened his mouth to speak, but then the three of them turned back toward JD’sdoor, where they could make out his tired voice.

             “Perry?”he called, his voice scratchy like it always was when he’d just woken up.  “Come back to bed.”

             “Perry?” Turk screeched, looking asthough he was seconds away from a massive coronary.

             Perrycringed when he heard a loud thud from inside the bedroom, and moments later,JD was stumbling out the door, trying desperately to finish pulling on a pairof sweatpants.  His hair was sticking upin every direction and it was clear he’d just woken up, though his eyes werewide.  Without thinking, Perry tucked JDunder his arm, pulling him against his side.

             Turkopened and closed his mouth several times, his eyes bugging out, but he seemedto be beyond words.  

             “Turk,”JD said slowly, watching Turk with great caution, “if you’d just let meexplain…”

             “Pleasetell me this is some kind of joke,” Turk said weakly just as he spotted thetakeout and the DVD on the coffee table. He groaned and sank down onto the couch.

             Carlaseemed to recover more quickly and she rolled her eyes at Turk, but JD shrankfurther into Perry’s side when she turned to glare at him.  “How long has this been going on?” she asked,and JD couldn’t tell if she was angry or not. “And why didn’t you tell us?”

             JDglanced up at Perry and bit his lip nervously. “A-almost four months,” he mumbled. “And I didn’t want to tell you, not yet anyway.  I didn’t want anyone to know because no onewould understand.  And I’d much rather have Perry to myself thanhave to worry about how wrong everyone thinks this is or how stupid they thinkI am.  Look, Carla, these few months havebeen… well, they’ve been incredible.”  JDpaused and looked up at Perry again, the nervousness in his expressionlessening just slightly.  “And of coursewe would have told you eventually, but Perry and I… we have such a good thinggoing that it was hard to imagine having to deal with unnecessary drama.”

             At that,Turk whipped his head around to stare at JD. “Unnecessary drama?” he asked incredulously.  “This is Dr. Cox we’re talking about!”

             JD’s jawtightened and he curled a protective arm around Perry’s waist.  “He’s standing right here, Turk.”

             “I don’thave a problem telling him to his face that he’s a jackass who’s never even pretended to care about you and has madeyour life a living hell for the last two years.”

             “Allright, Turk, that’s enough,” Carla said firmly, shooting an apologetic glancePerry’s way.

             “What, Ican’t say what needs to be said?” Turk asked, rising up off the couch.  “You’re a bully,” he said, addressing Perrydirectly.  “And I want to know whatexactly you said that brainwashed JD so much that he’d actually get into bedwith you.”

             “I didn’thave to say anything,” Perry said simply. “And I sure as hell don’t see a need to explain myself to you, gumball, but let me ask you this:what really bothers you about this?  Isit that Newbie has found someone else to occupy his time instead of you?”

             “Perry,stop it,” JD said under his breath.

             “No, JD,I want to know what the real problem is,” Perry pressed, still looking directlyat Turk.  “Is it that we’re bothmen?  We all know nothing makes you moreuncomfortable than a little guy-on-guy action –”

             JD nudgedPerry, looking up at him in disbelief. “That’s enough, Perry,” he said rather harshly.

             Perrytook a step forward, closer to Turk. “I’m betting that it’s a little bit of both,” he maintained, ignoringJD.  “Am I right?”

             “You sonof a bitch,” Turk said, his voice dripping with resentment.  “This iswhy I’m pissed.  Because you get yourjollies from shit like this when JD is the kindest, most compassionate personI’ve ever met.  You couldn’t be morewrong for him and I think deep down you know that.  You know that someday soon, he’s going to gettired of you and where will that leave you? Sitting alone in your big apartment with nothing to keep you company butyour damn scotch.”

             “You hadbetter shut your mouth before I do something I’ll really regret,” Perry said ina low voice, taking another step toward Turk.

             “Will youtwo knock it off?” JD nearly shouted, stepping between the two of them.  “Turk, this is exactly why I didn’t tell youthat Perry and I were together because I knewyou would overreact and pull something like this!  And Perry, Turk is my best friend and I needyou two to get along!  You’re both actinglike children right now and I’m tired of it! I would expect both of you tohave my back and respect mydecisions!”

             Perrystepped back and relaxed slightly.  “I’msorry,” he said genuinely, looking JD in the eyes.  “You’re right.”

             Turk, onthe other hand, did not have the same reaction. “JD, can’t you see this is just some sick, twisted game he’s playingwith you?  He doesn’t actually care –”

             “Turk,shut up!” JD cried, throwing his arms up in exasperation.  “I am in love with Perry, he’s in love withme, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.  You’re my best friend and I need yousupporting me, not trying to ruin my relationship!”

             “I’m justtrying to protect you,” Turk insisted as Carla put her hand to her forehead andshook her head.  “I know you can’t seethat right now because he’s gotten inside your head, but you’ll thank mesoon.  I don’t care what I have to do toget you to realize that this is a bad idea. As your best friend, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

             “You’re unbelievable,”JD sighed, turning back toward his bedroom. He flung the door open and grabbed the duffel bag he stored under hisbed.  

             “What areyou doing?” Turk asked, pushing past Perry and following JD into his room.

             “Packingmy stuff,” JD said flatly.  

             Turksighed.  “Come on, dude, you don’t haveto go.  I’m just trying to –”

             “You’retrying to break Perry and me up,” JD interrupted, shoving several changes ofclothes into his bag and picking Perry’s clothes up off the floor.  “And while that’s the case, I’m not stayinghere.”  He stormed back out into theliving room and tossed Perry’s clothes at him. “I want to leave.”

             “I thinkmaybe you should stay, Newbie,” Perry said gently, catching JD’s hand as hecrossed the room.  

             “What areyou talking about?”

             “I don’twant to be the reason that you and Turk are fighting,” Perry saidseriously.  “And I think that if youleave angry, things might not work themselves out.  Differences aside, there is one thing he andI have in common, and that’s that we both love you and care about you.  So I think we should stay, sit down, and talkabout this like adults instead of just getting angry.”

             “Perry’sright,” Carla interjected, looking stressed out.  “The two of you are just stubborn enough todrag this out much longer than it should be, so let’s get everything out on thetable now so we can start working through it.”

             JD lookedfrustrated, but eventually dropped his bag beside the couch and flopped downonto it.  “Fine,” he said, crossing hisarms as Perry sat down beside him.  “Let’stalk, then.  Let’s talk about why itseems like my judgement and my decisions aren’t good enough for you, Turk.  Last time I checked, this is my life and I should be allowed to bewith whoever I want.  The fact that youthink Perry has somehow brainwashed me means you think I’m not strong enough tomake my own decisions about who I love.”

             “It’s notlike that, man,” Turk said, sitting down in the arm chair next to thecouch.  “You know I’ve always trustedyou.  It’s him I don’t trust.”

             “I haven’tgiven you much reason to,” Perry said frankly. JD tried to protest, but Perry continued.  “It’s true. You and I have never gotten along and I’m thinking it’s because we’reboth so hard-headed.  But the fact of thematter is that I don’t work with you. You see tiny little glimpses into what I’m like and it’s true that thoseglimpses aren’t typically of my, let’s say, softer side.  But I have worked alongside JD nearly everyday for two years now, so wouldn’t you say that he’d be a little more qualifiedto judge my motives than you are?”

             Turkfloundered for a moment.  “That may betrue,” he conceded, “but that doesn’t change the fact that the side of you I’veseen is not a nice guy.  Forgive me forwanting better for JD.”

             “Don’tyou think that Perry and I have talked about this stuff already?” JDasked.  “It’s been almost four months,Turk, which leaves a lot of time for conversation.  Perry has changed a lot – not that I askedhim to.  Tell Turk what you said to meafter our first night together.”

             “Newbie,I –”

             “Perry,please,” JD said softly, squeezing Perry’s hand.

             Perryheld JD’s gaze for a moment longer before looking back at Turk.  “I told JD I wanted to be better for him,because of him.  There are plenty ofthings that I’ve said and done that I now regret and I wish I could take themback.  But JD’s helped me to see thatpeople can change when they really want to. And he makes me want to.”

             “I thinkyou’d have to be blind not to see the connection between the two of you,” Carlasaid quietly.  “And for the record, I’mhappy for both of you.  It’s about timeyou were both happy.”

             Turk wassilent for a long moment after that, just looking at Perry and JD.  They weren’t trying to show off or tone downanything about their relationship and instead sat together on the couch the waythey usually did when they were alone, pressed right up against each other,exuding love and silent devotion.

             “Well,”JD finally said, breaking the silence, “what’s the verdict?”

             “I’m notsaying I like it,” Turk sighed, “but I’ll respect it.  But I swear to god, if you ever hurt him, you’ll have me to answerto.”

             Perryactually smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of JD’s head.  “Sounds good to me,” he agreed.

[rootbeergoddess]

You’re My Home

Rey is a mess of emotions and she is not sure how she feels. She does know one thing though. She cares about Finn. She cares about him a lot. A commission from the very awesome @errrbodylovesfinn featuring our favorite space peanuts. If you like this story, reblog it! Share it with friends! You can even leave me a tip via ko-fi and you can also commission yourself if you’re interested.

Rey was not good about sharing her emotions. For of her life had been spent alone without a single soul to talk to. Things were different now. Inside, her stomach was a twist of knots and her heart was telling her to let it all out. She ignored it at first but then she finally snapped. When she saw the way Finn smiled at Rose, something inside her felt like it was breaking.

Part of her felt silly but another part of her was dying to figure things out. Rey didn’t really know Rose all that well but she seemed nice. Still, Rey felt threatened by Rose. It was silly but she couldn’t help it.  When it came to Finn, Rey felt protective. She couldn’t help it. Inside, she felt ready to vomit. Rey had to figure things out. She couldn’t keep doing this. She had to know.

“Finn, how do you feel about me?” She asked.

It was sudden. The question was blunt as well. Rey wasn’t one for tact. The two of them had been grabbing supplies. The Falcon was bare and needed to be restocked. They had to be careful but Rey was tired of waiting. She couldn’t get any alone time with Finn. She didn’t want Poe eavesdropping or BB-8 to butt in. Worse of all, she did not want Rose to find out. Now was the perfect time.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you love Rose?” She quickly changed the subject.

“WHAT?” Finn quickly covered his mouth. “What? Rey, what is going on?”

“Just answer! Do you love her because you shared a kiss? Is it because I was gone? I know, I left you and you probably felt abandoned. I didn’t meant to do that! I wanted to make sure I was strong enough too---”

“Rey!”

Finn grabbed Rey by the arms. Rey stared up at him before sniffling. Then, the tears started. Instantly, she was pulled into Finn’s strong arms. The warmth of his body was welcoming. She closed her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him and wanting to never let go. Inside, Rey felt like a mess still. This was still foreign territory for her. No one had ever taught her about love. Love was something confusing yet wonderful but Rey wasn’t sure if she could be apart of it. Did she want to? What if she got hurt?

But Finn wouldn’t hurt her. Finn could never hurt her. It wasn’t in his nature. Despite all the years of being brainwashed, he was the kindest person she had ever met. Finn was the only person who ever cared for her. When she had been captured, it was Finn who came for her. The sweet man who had screamed her name in agony when Kylo Ren had taken her. There wasn’t a single soul in the galaxy was like Finn.

“It’s okay,” Finn said. “I’m here now.”

Rey cried. She cried and hugged Finn. For a moment, there was no war. The First Order didn’t exist, there was no fighting and the world was at peace. It was just the two of them. Rey felt safe. When her sobs subsided, she wiped away the tears and looked up at him. His face was kind. His warm, dark eyes of brown glittered and his smile was reassuring.

“Rey, you know I care about you. Why would you think I wouldn’t? And why are you worried about Rose?” Finn sounded concerned. “We’re just friends. And how did you hear about the kiss?”

“Poe.”

“Ah,” Finn groaned. “Rey, it was in the heat of the moment. Also--well, she has a girlfriend.”

“What?”

“Yeah. She’s currently dating Marie. You know, the girl who works on engines?”

Rey felt silly. No, she felt stupid. She had made an ass of herself. She wondered how Finn felt about her now. Right now, she wanted to hide under a rock. Rey looked at Finn’s face, searching for a hint of judgement. No, there was none. Oh her sweet, darling, loving Finn. How could she have doubted him?

“I’m sorry I just---I guess I was jealous,” Rey admitted. “I know I shouldn’t have been but I was gone for so long and I was afraid you had forgotten me.”

“Rey, how could I forget you?” Finn asked. “There isn’t a single girl in the galaxy like you.”

“That’s not true, I’m a nobody.”

She was no one special. Just a girl from a planet made of junk. Rey was the one who got duped by Kylo Ren. That monster had tricked her, making her think there was some good in him. Because of that, they had almost lost the entire resistance. Rey wasn’t smart like Finn or a good flyer like Poe. There was nothing remarkable about her.

“Rey, you’ve battled Kylo Ren twice and you’ve won,” Finn told her. “Remember when we escaped the First Order in that clunky, old ship?”

Rey remembered that. The two of them were trying to save BB-8 and all they had was the Millennium Falcon. The ship was old, large and a bit rusty. Despite the odds, Finn and Rey had flown the Falcon. There had been a rush of adrenaline and a sense of accomplishment. Rey had run over to Finn, asking him so many questions. That was one of her most favorite memories of all time.  She smiled as she thought about it.

“You were there with me though,” She said. “We did it together.”

“Yes, we did it together. I couldn’t have done that without you,” Finn said. “And don’t forget that you saved me Rey. I would have died without you.”

“I had to. How could I just leave you?”

The memory of fighting Kylo Ren for the first time was no a pleasant one for Rey. Finn had defended her but it had almost cost him his life. Rey remembered when she took on Kylo Ren. There was no way she was going to let that vile creature take away the one person she cared about. While she fought, the only thing she thought about was Finn. Defending him had been tough but in the end, she managed to win.

“No one had ever done that for me,” Finn told her. “Rey, you could have died but you risked your life to save me.”

“Like I said, I couldn’t just leave you,” Rey looked into his eyes. “How could I?”

“Rey, that’s big. You’re the first person who ever cared about me. You’re the most important person in the world to me.”

“Do you really mean that?” Rey felt her heart soar.

“Yes,” Finn pulled her into another hug. “Rey, I love you.”

Love.

Rey closed her eyes, leaning against him. Once more, the world seemed to melt away. No one had ever told Rey that they loved her. What a wonderful feeling it was. Love was such a wonderful word as well. For a few brief seconds, Rey stayed in Finn’s arms.

“I love you too,” She finally said.

Rey meant it. Never had she cared about someone this much. This man was the light of her life. Finn made her feel safe. Looking back at her feelings towards Rose, Rey felt a bit silly. How could she have been jealous? Maybe it was because she cared for Finn so much. These were new feelings for her. Being alone on Jakku stunted her emotional growth slightly. Rey also didn’t have that many relationships. Finn was the first person who had ever cared for her, the only person to ever want her safe.

“Finn?” Rey suddenly asked him. “Would you please kiss me?”

“Right now?” Finn asked. “I mean this isn’t the most romantic place for a first kiss.”

“I don’t care. Just kiss me. Please?”

Finn looked at her for a second. Rey realized that this was probably his first kiss too so he was nervous just like she was. Was this how first kisses went? Both people feeling scared? Finn exhaled and inched closer to Rey’s face. Rey closed her eyes, wanting for his lips. When she felt Finn’s lips against hers, she felt warm. Her mind felt a bit fuzzy but it wasn’t a terrible feeling. She didn’t want to stop kissing him but soon, she had to breathe.

“That was wonderful,” Rey breathed, smiling. “How was it for you?”

“It was---great!” Finn grinned. “I mean it was my first kiss so I was a bit worried that it wouldn’t be good but--it was great!”

“You’re not just saying that are you?”

“No Rey, I mean it. That kiss was great,” Finn pressed his forehead against hers. “That kiss was fantastic.”

“You’re fantastic,” Rey said. “And I’m sorry that I was jealous.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just next time, know you can talk to me,” Finn hugged her again. “You’re my home Rey.”

“And you’re mine,” Rey squeezed him. “Forever and for always.”

“So are you ready for our second kiss?” Finn asked.

“Maybe.” Rey smiled at him.

[ajartemis007]

AJ Imagine - Jujutsu Kaisen

Continued ~~

The Death Panting - Aimi’s hatred (3)

People didn’t pay much attention as old Aimi wobbled through the crowd. The market was really crowded today. But nothing deterred Aimi as she walked towards the temple. The only person who cared about her - her father, was long gone. Her mother didn’t care about her nor was she really gone. Dead? yes. Gone? no. She was there inside every blood cell, every thought, every emotion. And Aimi hated her.

It was because of Nozomi that Aimi had become homeless with a kid. Her husband wanted a boy but years of trying and Aimi couldn’t have one. She knew why. It was her mother’s curse, her filthy blood that manipulated Aimi’s body to abort male wombs and keep only one female womb. So, as her husband kicked her out to get a new wife, all she had was a daughter. And Aimi hated her too.

Surviving alone with a young child wasn’t easy so she tried to get rid of her daughter several times only to find her waiting for her every time she got back home. Because her daughter was a vessel to her demonic mother too. No good will come to her either, so she should rather die, but she wouldn’t. Aimi never named her daughter and was surprised when she started calling herself Kokoro. So that’s what her mother had decided to call her new demon child. 

Child or no, Aimi had to provide for herself. She took up odd jobs at wealthy households but was dropped when people found out she had a kid and no husband to provide for the family. The wealthy housewives didn’t want a woman like her around their husbands. So she took up the only available option, selling her body for money. Time made her soften towards Kokoro a little so she fed and clothed her with what she could make and Kokoro was happy enough to help with housework. Then her demon mother died, leaving them the hut in the forest where she now lived with her daughter. 

The temple was near now. It had always been here but her mother never tried to approach it, in fact Nozomi had avoided this part of town like a plague. But now here Aimi was, old and fragile, looking directly at the temple ground. She was here for answers. Her mother was immortal but Aimi wasn’t, she would shrivel up and die eventually and that time seemed very near somehow. She had to get her answers while she could. Nozomi didn’t even have to manipulate her to go looking for the temple, Aimi decided that herself, she needed more reasons to hate her mother. Nozomi while in her own body would never have done this but in Aimi’s body she felt she could. She felt she had to.

Wild grass grew everywhere she looked. No wonder this cursed placed was abandoned. Just stepping into the temple grounds had made her ears ring with screams of torment. Dark shapes shifted in the shadows of the woods behind the temple, none approaching her. Oh they wouldn’t dare, she was much more demonic than they were.

So this is where her mother was born. What a perfect place for a demon spawn. As soon as the thought took shape in her mind, she heard a chuckle, Nozomi’s. “Oh how much you hate me dear Aimi. I am your mother. Don’t be so harsh on this poor dead soul”, Nozomi said in a sing song voice. 

Aimi was sure no one could hear Nozomi except her. Nozomi knew the poisonous thoughts Aimi had about her. “Shut up you demonic whore, when I am done with you, I will be having the last laugh. Your filthy blood ends here with me and Kokoro.” Nozomi sighed, “Aimi, I know you hate me for what happened, but hasn’t it been ages? I offered to get you a new husband. A little brainwashing and you would have a brand new man. But you decided to hate me and your daughter for that stupid son of a bitch you loved and married. He threw you out but you decided to blame it on me and Kokoro. How is any of this fair?”

Yes, Nozomi had offered to get her a new husband. She could do that easily. All Aimi had to do was ask. Her mother could manipulate the feelings of people around her. Aimi could have a new husband, a brainwashed money bag. But she had loved her husband and his actions had broken her completely. All she wanted now was revenge. She didn’t marry Kokoro off, she never would. Let her mother starve. Kokoro was almost 35, no one would want her. Her mother’s line was as good as finished. She wouldn’t die without making sure of that. She would even kill Kokoro if it comes to that. Her hatred for her mother was much stronger than her love for that demon spawn. 

“I didn’t ask for a new husband, but I did ask for a son, didn’t I mother? I begged and plead and cried but you didn’t deter. And now you dare ask me why I hate you”, she spat poisonously. “I can’t give you a son. That’s the only thing i can’t give you. As long as you have my blood, as long as i live, none of my bloodline can have a male child. I really can’t do anything about it, it’s a curse on my bloodline put by me without a second thought.”,Nozomi tried and explained for the 1000th time. She had never needed a male body, one female was enough but she never thought it would result in this. ‘Some’ men really were filthy treating women as baby-makers, son-makers to be precise. But she hadn’t met a man like that, Haruki was anything but unkind. He had loved both Nozomi and Aimi like the only people that mattered to him.

“Thinking about my father now are we? You never deserved a man like him Nozomi. He was too good for you. How am i supposed to believe you didn’t just use him to proliferate. Must have manipulated my poor father to love a demon spawn like you. I know you would go to those lengths. You are a demon after all.” Aimi’s words hurt Nozomi sometimes but she was pretty sure she hadn’t manipulated Haruki’s feelings because Haruki had been the one to teach her about love. Haruki had taught her how beautiful life truly was. Would Haruki hate her for what she had done to Aimi? She didn’t want to know.

Aimi walked through the trees, her dark robe making her look like a creature from the shadows. She walked carefully, making her way towards the temple, trying to avoid stepping on the moss and slipping. It had rained. She now stood at the entrance, smelling the rain soaked soil and the rotten wood of the temple building. She stepped inside.

It was dark but she hadn’t brought a lamp. No money for oil. She squinted through the dark making her way inside carefully. As she wobbled on, a sudden rush of cold air hit her in the face making her shiver and she could hear a woman crying. A cry for help, but too weak. It couldn’t pierce the temple walls, no one would know she was here. Or had been here, long time back. Aimi was having a vision of the woman Noritoshi Kamo had experimented on. Impregnating her with cursed seed and aborting her nine times to create the Nine Death Paintings, one of whom was her mother. “So you are a demon and what’s more there’s nine of you in the world.” 

Nozomi could see things much clearly. She was right about there being more of her kind. She had eight siblings. The cursed energy this place emanated was immense. It was mixed with her mother’s sobs and whimsical chuckles of a man. A powerful man, who used cursed energy. Who was so full of cursed energy, it made her shiver even though she was inside Aimi. Aimi could feel her dread, she felt sick herself standing in this cursed place. “This man.. is he a shaman of some kind? I can feel the evil radiating from this room even though it hasn’t been in use for ages.” 

A shaman... yes. A sorcerer of some kind. “Get out of here Aimi. Now.”, she commanded. “What? Are you scared?”, Aimi gave a nervous laugh, “this man made you and you are no different. You are just like your father. Filthy and evil.”

Still, Aimi moved as fast as she could, lengthening the distance between her and the cursed temple. She wanted to be anywhere but here. Even being with Kokoro was better than this.

By the time she neared her hut the sky was completely dark. Aimi walked towards the light of her house like fly to fire. She couldn’t feel greater comfort than being inside the safety of her house. She had grown up here, felt her father’s love here. This was her safe haven. Nothing would touch her here.

She stopped short as she heard some rustling inside. Must be that rat Kokoro. She didn’t even feel like slapping her today. All Aimi wanted was hot food and a good night’s sleep. The cicadas sung on as she threw open the hut door and entered without announcing herself. Kokoro rushed to greet her “Mother”, she beamed, ”Dinner’s ready. I was waiting for you to return. I shall set the food. Please wash up, I’ve drawn warm water for you.” Ignoring Kokoro, Aimi went straight to take a bath. She was tired of Kokoro always trying to please her. Why couldn’t she hate her like Aimi did?

But for Kokoro pleasing her mother, especially now was really important. She had to tell her before it was too late. She knew why her mother hated her. She knew about Nozomi and unlike her mother, she truly loved Nozomi, her guardian angel. Nozomi had comforted her every time Aimi hurt her emotionally or physically. But right now it was Aimi she really needed. Her mother had to understand and be her ‘mother’, truly this time.

Aimi ate up without a word ignoring Kokoro’s efforts at having a small talk. She didn’t need to tell this good for nothing about anything she had seen that day. Nozomi would do it anyway, like she always did. She left the bowls for Kokoro to pick up and made her bed. As she lay there trying to sleep she could hear Kokoro washing up the dishes. Aimi closed her eyes as Kokoro entered as quietly as possible. She felt miserable. Another day without being able to talk to her mother. Kokoro fell asleep immediately as Aimi drifted off to sleep after a little tossing and turning.

Aimi woke up to Kokoro’s painful moans in the middle of the night. She turned towards Kokoro carefully trying to make out a squirming Kokoro in the darkness. Instant feeling of panic overcame her. This wasn’t her feeling, she was still dazed. It was Kokoro’s feeling. Aimi became still as she watched in horror. Kokoro’s top had ridden up to her breasts. She was sweating profusely. And she was touching a bump, her swollen belly catching the moon’s light.

Kokoro was heavily pregnant. Aimi hadn’t noticed because she didn’t pay her any attention. She hadn’t noticed Kokoro’s shift towards oversized clothes or her laboured movements throughout the house. She didn’t want to see Kokoro, not even in her peripheral vision. Because Kokoro was beautiful, radiant, like her mother and she had her husband’s eyes. Aimi knew Kokoro could be married off easily even though she had not a penny for her dowry. So she had waited for Kokoro to grow old and shriveled like her. But even at 35 Kokoro still shined, her cheeks pink and her eyes kind. Oh, how she hated Kokoro, how she hated all the efforts she had to make to keep her out of any man’s sight.

And now Kokoro’s belly was taunting her, laughing at her. It felt like someone had slapped her with cold water as she threw her blanket and got up. Kokoro had seen her stare at her swollen belly in horror. She had ran out of options. It had only been 7 months and she could already feel herself getting wet as her water broke. “Mother please help me.”, she whimpered. “Please... I was going to tell you but I d-didn’t know how. Please I beg, help me.” Kokoro tried to sit up.

Only silence rang out in Aimi’s ears. Kokoro’s words couldn’t reach her. She didn’t know how this demon spawn had gone and gotten pregnant. All she knew was that Nozomi knew and she and Kokoro both kept this a secret. 

Nozomi sensed Aimi’s hostility rising rapidly. “Calm down Aimi. This is your daughter. Help her. That’s your grand daughter inside her. Please, I promise i will give you a good life, anything you want. Please help her.”

Nozomi could fell Aimi slipping out of her grip. She had never felt this before, it felt like everything inside Aimi was revolting against her. Her rage screamed to be let out. She wanted to make someone pay for this betrayal and that someone was Kokoro. 

“Oh, you thought, you bitch. No you wait... you wait.” Aimi muttered, her eyes wild. She ran out of the house and picked up the axe embedded in the wood. It would have been a little difficult for a woman her age to grab the axe so easily. But she was buoying up with hatred, hatred that gave her strength. Nozomi had completely lost her hold on Aimi. And Kokoro’s fear was keeping her from thinking straight. “Run Kokoro!”, She was screaming in both Aimi and Kokoro’s head. “Get up and run. She is coming, she will kill you.”

Overcome with fear, Kokoro couldn’t move. She completely froze. She could feel both her mother’s rage and Nozomi’s cries for her to help herself. What bad had she ever done to anyone. Her mother hated her because she had wanted a son. She had to grow up filthy and hungry until her mother decided to feed and cloth her. And where did that money come from? Her mother had been a prostitute. All Kokoro did was follow into her steps, because there was no other way. They needed money, food, shelter. And Nozomi needed a new vessel which Aimi wouldn’t let her have. All Kokoro had to do was make a pact, promise Nozomi a new body while she helped Kokoro get money. Men would empty their pockets just by her touch, money they needed to feed their own families would be handed to her, no questions asked. 

Kokoro looked up helplessly as the figure entered the room. It wasn’t Aimi, it couldn’t be with its glowing amber eyes and flaming red hair, upright figure emanating strength. It was Noritoshi Katsumi, the Death Painting. As the axe came down on her, Kokoro’s entire life flashed before her eyes. Every futile effort to make her mother love her, every scream of pain as her mother hit her, cursed her, blamed her. Was she really going to sit here as this hateful woman killed her and her child. She would never be a mother like Aimi, Kokoro thought. The axe landed on her shoulder with a sickening crunch, shattering her collarbone. It could have done much more damage had Kokoro’s hand not shot up and pierced clean through Aimi’s mid section. 

Aimi stumbled backwards, blood splattering from her mouth, dribbling down her chin. All her strength faded and she looked down at this creature in front of her. She had birthed that thing. It had her mother’s amber eyes but filled with hate to the brim. Her mother’s red hair tumbled down it’s shoulders. One of its taloned hands sitting protectively on its swollen belly and the other inside Aimi. This was what her mother was, a demon, a curse. And this was what Kokoro was too, this was what any and every daughter of this cursed family will be. A demon. And this was what she herself was, death was better than looking at this abomination any longer. Those were Aimi’s last thoughts as she died.

The hut had burned to cinders by the morning, everything inside burned to a crisp. Kokoro didn’t think about anything else but the bundle in her hands, her sweet daughter as she walked away from the town leaving everything else behind. Except Nozomi. She wouldn’t leave Nozomi behind. Never. Nozomi was her guardian angel, her and now her daughter’s as well. Kokoro had sliced her own stomach to get the child out after she had noticed how easily her shoulder wound healed within minutes. It had hurt like hell, but she couldn’t wait to see and love her daughter. Her Yoshino. She would make pacts with any and every demon if it meant keeping this child safe and happy.

As she walked the road alone, a carriage stopped beside her. A man peered at her and her baby. She must look so helpless and alone, wonder if he would offer a ride. She wanted him to offer, she wanted it very much, especially after looking at his silk robes and golden brooch on his chest. A young, rich man. Someone sat beside him, his father. Hah, a wealthier man and so close to death. Perfect. 

“Please come in, we would love to offer you a ride”, the old man said. She had done an excellent job manipulating their feelings to help this helpless young woman, as soon as she had heard the carriage behind her she had projected the feelings out powerfully making them stop in their tracks. Ah, she loved this power. Stupid Aimi, she could have had the world if she wanted but she was stuck with her abusing husband. Kokoro would do better. The rich who would have wrinkled their noses at her were offering her a hand inside their carriage. All she had to make sure was that it didn’t stop there. By the time they reached where this father-son duo was going, she would have them both by their necks. 

And Nozomi. Nozomi was shut inside. She would have no say in anything, she would be forced to give her power to help. That’s how it was going to be from now onwards. After all she had helped kill her own child. Nozomi had killed Aimi. Nozomi would sit inside Kokoro, too weak to do anything as the image of her looking at her bloody hands after killing Aimi played in an endless loop. She had a new body, Yoshino, but at what cost. No, Haruki would never forgive her. For the first time Nozomi was afraid she had created a stronger demon than herself. Kokoro was a force to be reckoned with. And somehow Nozomi was also aware that this won’t be the last time she killed. And still she couldn’t help trembling with the surge of energy she was having, harvesting Kokoro’s negative emotions, lapping up like a thirsty dog. 

Kokoro would be Noritoshi Katsumi’s strongest vessel until she hits ‘perfect balance’. But that was yet to come. So much more would happen by then. Nozomi could barely wait.