#literally nothing compares to the high i felt when i spent a couple nights in june doing nocturnal insect surveys

[sourcedecay]

i don’t wanna go to grad school. but the demons in me wanna go to grad school…

[piecksz]

forget me too. | (m)

pairing: modern punk!bakugo x fem!reader 

warnings: nsfw, angst, cheating, oral sex, penetrative sex, angry sex, choking, fingering, exes with benefits, mentions of breeding, hair pulling, explicit language, toxic relationship, manipulation, reader just being a lovesick puppy but wouldn’t we all be if it came to bakugo

summary: it’s been a year since you broke up with bakugo after you found him cheating on you, and you swore you’d moved on from him, but when you run into him again at a record shop, you fall back into a dangerous cycle of love and hate

words: 9,800+

a/n: so i gave in and watched downfalls high, and i’m not gonna lie, it wasn’t the best piece of media i’ve ever consumed, but mgk’s feature track with halsey kind of ate (AND IT LITERALLY INSPIRED SO MANY ANGSTY IDEAS I WAS ITCHINGGG). therefore, this is said angsty idea. you can listen to the song forget me too by machine gun kelly (feat. halsey) while reading, that’s if you’re really daring. good luck lol 

If there was one thing in the world you couldn’t fully understand, it was the type of girls who hated their ex-boyfriends, twirling their hair flirtatiously and giggling at all their pitiful punchlines one week, and the next, hatching bogus rumors to discourage other girls from seeking them out romantically, letting them know that their charm came at a price.

Until it was Bakugo.

You genuinely didn’t see it coming. You weren’t even able to recognize the severity of the situation until you were convulsing with the gravity of your sobs, shrieking at him in front of his apartment. Bakugo had called you earlier that evening to reschedule your previously-arranged dinner date since his friend Kirishima was in town, and he wanted to dedicate the rest of the night to catching up with his old schoolmate. You happily forfeited your own plans and instead opted to rendezvous with your boyfriend and his familiar later in the week, but as the night hauled on your favorite TV show no longer satiated your boredom.

Shuffling into the kitchen and scouring your cabinet for ingredients, you drew up the idea to bake some sweets for Bakugo and Kirishima because you figured it would be a nice surprise, however once you arrived at Bakugo’s place you deduced quickly that his friend wasn’t over. It should have been notably clear that something was unusual by the way he was hesitant to let you in.

He poked his head out from behind the privacy of his front door, definitely surprised to see you, but not in the way you had hoped.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a tight-lipped expression, eyes dropping to the tub of sugar cookies in your hands. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming over?”

You hummed after detecting a subtle edge in his voice. “I wanted to surprise you.” You rose to your toes to look past his head. “I thought you said your friend was coming over.”

Bakugo nodded, and once he extended his hand to accept your treats you could see that his torso was bare. “Idiot had to cancel at the last minute. School shit. He said he’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your grip tightened on the container. 

If his friend couldn’t make it then why didn’t he let you know? The two of you still could have made it to your dinner reservations.

And in that moment, you swore your internal monologue was loud enough to hear, because you immediately received your answer when you heard a soft, feminine voice come from inside his apartment.

“Who the fuck is that?” you barked, trying to outbalance Bakugo’s weight on the door. “Bakugo you little fucking shit--let me in.” It was a moment-long game between the two of you until Bakugo gave in, accepting the reality that he’d already been caught. You stumbled into the door as it swung open, revealing his company.

She was petite with short blonde hair, wearing a panicked expression that matched Bakugo’s oversized flannel on her naked body almost impeccably. You stared at each other until you broke the tense silence with a quiet holy shit.

“Holy shit,” you repeated louder, blinking as fast as you could to hold back the salty tears that were beginning to cloud your vision. “You fucking dick!” You didn’t notice how forceful your voice had gotten until you were shouting at him, the immense pressure building in your chest making your voice crack. You hurled every vulgar name in the book at Bakugo who couldn’t even look you in the eye while you cried in front of him.

This couldn’t have been the same man you once saw your future playing out with. The hell unfolding in front of you was exactly what your friends, Momo and Ochako, had predicted once you disclosed your interest in Bakugo. They warned you that he had a record on campus, with multiple girls, and yet somehow when he wooed you with sweet words and thoughtful gifts, just like they said he would, you still thought you were different. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t a terrible guy by any means. He was a little rough around the edges with a temper, but he was hilarious and passionate, all while being profound and smart.

In your fantasies the two of you were married, and then came babies with tufts of your tresses and the mischief of his ruby eyes. He would have been a winner, if he wasn’t so emotionally incompetent. Perhaps you were naive to assume what you and Bakugo had was love just because he said so.

Your quivering fingers worked unsteadily against the lid of the tupperware. You tossed it aside before dumping the container’s contents on the floor of his apartment and hurled the empty food saver at him.

“Come fucking on Y/N,” he said wearily. The fucking nerve he had to act tired.

“Enjoy your cookies,” you responded venomously, leaving quickly before another set of tears came surging.

The next several months were excruciating, and the pain you experienced was nothing compared to its onset. If you weren’t spending days cocooned in bed to sleep off the fatigue of your endless crying, then you were on your couch, staring unamused while Blair Waldorf waltzed across your TV screen. 

At least she got her happy fucking ending. Good for her. 

You couldn’t even find the energy to eat, and ice cream was not the cure-all for heartbreaks like everyone lied and said it was.

Every so often Momo and Ochako would pay you a visit. For the first few weeks they let you mourn, consoling you and cleaning up the litter of crumpled tissues around your apartment. After the first month, they suggested that maybe meeting someone new would be the best way to help you forget about your break up, but you didn’t want to meet someone new. You just wanted to know if Bakugo missed you too.

Once your grades started slipping, you used that as an excuse to turn to isolation and lose yourself in your schoolwork. The distraction left you with no leisure time to scroll through old photos of you and Bakugo in your phone, and within a couple months, you swore that you’d finally moved on from him.

But it seemed all of that was forgotten the moment you recognized his head of spiky blonde hair from the next aisle over in the record shop, and you silently cursed the universe’s cruel way of working, that all-knowing bitch.

You kept your head down, pretending to be overtly interested in the Kendrick Lamar vinyl you held in your hands, but you couldn’t stop peeking over the shelf to see if Bakugo had moved from his spot.

You could hear him shuffling, and every time you looked up, he was a step closer to the end of the aisle, meaning that your game plan was to move in the opposite direction, so you could slip past him without being detected.

You continued to move one step to the left every time Bakugo moved another step to the right, surely securing your elusive escape, but when you glanced up again, he had disappeared from your line of surveillance. Shit.

“Y/N?”

Shit!

Slowly, you pivoted in the direction of your name only to gawk, horrified, as your ex-boyfriend strolled up to you casually, like he had never ripped your heart out and trampled all over it.

Once he got closer, you realized how generous the year between your break up and now had been to him. His yellow flannel was useless tied around his waist when it should have been on his shoulders instead, covering the way his black Led Zeppelin shirt clung to the impressive build of his upper body.  

“Holy fuck, it is you,” Bakugo said, incredulously. You swore he had grown taller now that he was standing in front of you because you couldn’t remember if he had always towered over you.

“Small world,” you said, distastefully.

“Not really,” Bakugo shrugged. “This is just where I come to slave away for minimum wage.”

You simply blinked at him with a placid expression, unable to decide which of your emotions was best considering the circumstances.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he chuckled. “Did you cut your hair?”

You raised an eyebrow plainly. “No.” If anything your hair had grown a few inches longer.

“Highlights?”

“No.”

“Shit seriously?” Bakugo cast his eyes downwards and then back up, sizing up your figure. “Well you look good.”

You could only offer up a dry laugh in response while shaking your head at the peculiarity of the situation.  

“What is wrong with you?” you jeered.  

You couldn’t believe the ease with which he approached you after not seeing you for twelve whole months, especially when six and a half of those months were spent bawling your eyes out over him and trying to repair the heart he broke carelessly.

Bakugo’s blithe expression withered. The look left behind was one of bashful remorse, as if he was embarrassed by the person he was a year ago.

You weren’t even sure if he had really changed since you’d gone out of your way to avoid hearing or seeing anything about him after you claimed to have gotten over him. The real reason was that you felt you couldn’t trust yourself. You feared that if you came across anything having to do with him, you’d descend into another self-destructive, heartache-driven spiral.

“I tried calling to apologize, but you blocked my number. And then blocked me on everything else,” Bakugo explained.

You shifted uncomfortably.

“I never saw you around campus, and when I showed up to your apartment you weren’t home. I felt like horse shit, seriously, but after a while I just gave up, I guess.”

You pursed your lips together at the mention of his attempts to remedy your breakup, specifically because this whole time you could have sworn he didn’t care to fix things with you.

Bakugo leaned in, and you surprised yourself by making no effort to create more distance between the both of you.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, for once without the gruffness of his usual tone.

If he made the effort to apologize even after a year, that must have meant that he still had some feelings left over for you, right? Did that mean he still loved you? The suspicion made your heart squeeze with expectation.

“Are you sorry that you hurt me, or are you sorry that you got caught?” You questioned.

“Both,” Bakugo snickered tactlessly.

You swore you could have punched his lights out then and there, but he must have noticed the way you tensed up because he looped his arm around you, pulling you in until you nestled into his larger frame.

“I fucking missed you, dumbass.”

Your stomach dropped at the very mention of the words you were longing to hear after your split, and you knew that you weren’t over him. Not even close. Even when you had caught another girl with her hands on him.

Your first mistake was unblocking Bakugo’s number that night, and your second was sending him a text. You stood in the bathroom, dumbfounded by your own actions while you clutched your phone nervously. Thank god he didn’t have his read receipts on. The last thing you needed to know was if he decided to leave you on read after you had just stroked his monumental ego.

You sat your phone aside and proceeded brushing your teeth until you were interrupted by a shrill ding from beside you. You grabbed your phone much too quickly and slid the screen up to be met with a reply from Bakugo.

9:32 PM

bakugo: so i’m still in your phone huh?

9:32 PM:

bakugo: lmao

9:33 PM:

bakugo: thinking about me even after bitching about how much you hate me?

9:34 PM:

bakugo: especially at night that’s hot

You scowled at the messages before putting your phone back down. Using the time it took you to finish brushing your teeth and washing your face, you recited your responses over and over again because as much as you wanted to, you knew it wouldn’t be smart to jump back into your relationship that fast. You still held negative sentiments about what he had done to you, but the pleasure of having him back was slowly beginning to outweigh your earlier feelings.

While shuffling into your bedroom, you kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, typing, deleting, and retyping messages, worried that they would sound too needy.

9:50 PM:

you: so i see you still have a head so big that it could block out the sun

9:53 PM:

bakugo: fuck off you little shit

9:53 PM:

bakugo: no classes tmrw and i’m off work at 12

9:54 PM:

you: ok? do i look like your fucking secretary?

10:00 PM:

bakugo: no im just letting you know in case you’re planning on stalking me again :^(

10:01 PM

bakugo: obviously i wanna see you tomorrow dipshit

Warmth spread across your cheeks until it deepened into a dangerous heat, and the happy memories of you and Bakugo a year ago resurfaced as deja vu. Everything was scarily reminiscent of the way he asked you out the first time, back when your opinions about him were much more straightforward.

You rolled over to the other side of your bed and squealed, flustered by how to-the-point he was about his desire to reconcile things with you.

“Get it together, honestly,” you reprimanded yourself, jabbing a finger against your temple in an effort to drill the mantra into your head.

You responded back to accept Bakugo’s invitation, being mindful not to sound too excited, but you couldn’t deny that you slept better than usual that night.

The next day when you met up with Bakugo after his shift at the record shop ended, the two of you settled on getting coffee from one of the restaurants on campus. Well, you got a coffee, but Bakugo went for an iced tea instead because he insisted that coffee tasted like “dog shit”.

Regardless of your staggering difference of opinion in beverages, you guys hit it off again, laughing and joking around like there had never been a rift between you two in the first place. You were taken aback by how comfortable you still felt around him and how much he still seemed to adore you.

Two weeks after your reunion, you and Bakugo were already falling back into the routine of going on dates like you’d done before, snickering in the back of crowded movie theaters and demolishing each other in multiple rounds of mini golf. You even kept the photo booth picture that was printed for you at the aquarium in your wallet, just so you could peek at it every now and then.

Three weeks after your reunion, you concluded that you were pretty much together. Bakugo had never made it official, and neither had you, but you trusted the way you felt, and it seemed clear that he felt the same way.

Your friends however, weren’t as happy to hear the news of you and Bakugo seeing each other again.

Momo’s eyes widened as she leaned over the table and thrusted her mechanical pencil in your direction.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re joking.” She turned to Ochako who looked at you with a troubled expression. “Uraraka, please tell me she’s joking.”

Ochako pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head in utter disbelief. She said nothing. Rather she looked to you for an answer, wanting you to explain the situation before she scolded you for being so forgiving toward someone who didn’t deserve it.  

“He apologized okay? And it really seemed like he meant it, I’m not just saying that. You guys know I can’t hold grudges. I’m soft.”

Momo huffed.

“We started talking, and he told me that he tried to apologize but he never got the chance.”

Your friends were still quiet, waiting for the punchline, but once they realized that there was no hidden gag to the story, they leaned back in exhaustion, disappointed that you’d gotten yourself into another wearisome situation because of your thoughtlessness.

“And he said he missed me. After an entire year, he still misses me.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had found you someone else, you know. Someone nice. Better than Bakugo, so you don’t feel like you have to settle,” Momo countered.

“I didn’t need to date someone else,” you chided her. “I’m not one of those people that need to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled, plus I’ve been swamped with assignments.” You knew you were just trying to save face. You knew the real reason why you turned down all your prospective blind dates, and your friends knew it too. You couldn’t see yourself with anyone other than Bakugo, and you meant it when you said you didn’t need love to feel like you had purpose, but when it came to the blonde, it appeared that none of those principles applied.

“You’re lying,” Ochako sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear before clicking her pen and returning to her research paper.

“I’m not settling!” you declared, earning a few scattered glances from the other students in the library. You smiled at them ruefully, mouthing an apology, and ducked your head back into your college textbook.

You decided to drop the conversation, concluding that your friends just wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know your relationship with Bakugo like you did so how could they have understood?

Later that night however, you couldn’t help but chew over your friends’ reactions. There was clearly a reason why they felt the way they did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to see their concern. You didn’t need to be chastised every time you did something they didn’t agree with, because you reminded yourself you were a grown ass woman. You treasured Momo and Ochako, but you were absolutely capable of looking out of yourself.

“Why do girls watch this shit?” Bakugo muttered from beside you, uninterested in the movie playing on the Macbook propped up in your lap. “It’s just dresses and sideburns, where the fuck are the fist fights?”

“It’s Pride and Prejudice, stupid. Not Deadpool,” you retorted, giggling slightly once Bakugo decided the skin of your neck was more interesting than Kiera Knightley. He released a throaty chuckle while attaching his lips to the base of your jaw and continued kissing until he stopped where your neck met your shoulders.

“Stop, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you complained tenderly with absolutely no intent to make Bakugo stop.

Bakugo sat up, grabbing your laptop off the sheets and closing it briskly. “Fuck the movie, I have a better idea,” he suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching as he tossed the device onto the chair beside your closet.

“Hey, what are you doing, you dick?” you protested.

Within seconds Bakugo was on top of you with arms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in beneath him.

“Yeah?” he whispered provocatively, like he was making sure he had your permission first. He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You didn’t know what sensation you registered first: the warmth now spreading quickly across your cheeks, down to your chest, or the pronounced throbbing between your thighs.

You nodded, softly responding with a “yeah” in return, and Bakugo didn’t waste a second before pressing his mouth to yours enthusiastically. You were surprised how quickly you re-familiarized yourself with the curve of his lips and the way they moved steadily against yours. Acting with fervor, he used his hand to grip your chin, forcing your mouth to open wider so he could slip his tongue past your teeth.

Bakugo used his free hand to grab your breast under your sweatshirt, and you relished in the feeling of his warm palm against your skin while he ran his fingertips against the silky fabric of your lace bra.

“Lace? You dirty bitch,” he teased, breaking contact. “There’s no way you could have known we were gonna fuck.”

You laughed, appreciating how seductive Bakugo looked. His sandy hair was tousled from your impatient hands in his locks, skin feverishly tinged with a dusty pink hue, and lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

“I didn’t know, but I was hoping we would,” you answered honestly. “I guess I got lucky.”

Bakugo snickered, clearly pleased with the response he received. His scarlet eyes flickered lustfully, and he hastily returned to working on your body. He pulled your sweatshirt up and off, tossing it over his shoulder before working swiftly against the clasp of your bra, which he skillfully managed to break with just one hand.

Must have had a lot of practice with that.

But your cynical thoughts were soon forgotten the moment Bakugo’s tongue curled around your nipple, enjoying the way his saliva made your skin glisten under the dim lamp light. He hummed loudly every time you jolted and whimpered, your back arching in tandem. He closed his lips around the delicate nub, sucking harshly while making no attempts to hide his sly smile. He was enjoying himself far too much.

He made sure he put his other hand to work, rolling your other nipple between his fingers, pinching roughly while tugging on it absentmindedly. Once he grew bored of your innocent mewls, he thirsted for something filthier.

Bakugo tantalizingly slid his hand down your stomach until his fingers curled around the waistband of your volleyball shorts. He stretched the Spandex material until when he released it, it snapped painfully against your skin, his cock throbbing at the exposure of your earthy groan.

He slipped off your shorts, and the sight before him was enough to elicit a long, drawn-out “Jesus fucking Christ”.

You didn’t realize you were so aroused that your underwear was soaking wet, your pussy now visible through the thin sheer fabric. Bakugo swallowed hard, palming himself to relieve some of the unbearable pressure he was feeling. He could feel his cock straining against his underwear, and he wanted to stick his dick inside you and fuck you until your eyes rolled back into your head, but the only thing he wanted more than that was to taste you.

“These are mine,” Bakugo insisted. He pulled your panties off, chuckling dryly at the wet stain on the fabric before tucking them into his pocket.

You tilted your head at him.

“What? I’m keeping them as a souvenir,” he replied.

But that’s not what you were concerned with. You were more humiliated than anything that this was your first time having sex with him in a year, and you’d been horny for him since you opened the door. You might as well have just written Bakugo’s Whore on your head in thick permanent marker, but you kept your suggestion to yourself knowing that Bakugo would have liked the idea way too much.

Bakugo reached down to pull his shirt over his head and threw it aside, unveiling his impressive physique. After you guys had broken up, he began finding himself in the gym more frequently, placating his regret and anger through physical exertion, and although he used weightlifting to cope, it left him with an incredible build.

Sweet lord, you thought, please fucking break me.

Bakugo wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you forcibly toward him. You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a good look as his face disappeared between your legs. You couldn’t see much past his hair, but you felt a long wet lick up your folds, and your arms immediately gave out, causing you to fall back onto the bed while your hips bucked upward.

You let out an obscene cry, but that only encouraged Bakugo more. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking another stripe up to your clit before sucking it into his mouth, all while peering up at you to see the way you writhed under his touch. You gripped the sheets, and your breathing grew increasingly labored as Bakugo swirled the tip of his tongue against the tender bud, slowly in one direction, and then the opposite. You continued to grind yourself against his mouth while your desire became insatiable. You felt like your hunger was completely justified, because you hadn’t been spoiled in a long fucking time.

You completely unraveled once you glanced down just in time to see Bakugo spit on your parted folds before using his fingers to coat your pussy in his saliva. His slick fingers rubbed your clit, taunting you for just a while longer, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. He started with two fingers, slipping them in and out with ease until his spit mixed with your arousal created a vile lubricant.

With the way Bakugo’s lips were slightly parted and his eyebrows were knitted in the center, you could tell he was concentrating dangerously, observing how desperately you swallowed his fingers every time he pushed them in.

Your vision erupted into white heat when he bent down to take your clit back into his mouth while pumping in and out of you with an added finger. The symphony that filled the space of your room was absolutely foul. Your intense cries bounced off the walls, while Bakugo panted heavily at the messy sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you. And neither of you cared if your neighbors could hear.

“Bakugo--,” you started, but your broken plea wasn’t nearly enough to get his attention.

“Bakugo,” you cried louder, your body beginning to shake with the onset of your orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than you were used to, almost like he was whining.

You could only give a weak nod in response.

“Be a good little bitch and cum for me,” Bakugo coaxed, as you yielded to the intensity of your orgasm. He quickened his pace just to see you convulse as you reached your high, but then slowed down until he was ready to pull his fingers out of you.

The sight was enough to make Bakugo cum untouched. You were finger-fucked out, eyes shut as your chest heaved up and down while you tried to catch your breath. Your arousal was smeared on the inside of your thighs and your bedsheet was damp where you released.

Bakugo wanted to ask you if you were alright, but the aching pain in his pants took priority. He reached into his underwear, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his boxers. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard he almost drew blood as he pumped himself gingerly, hissing at the feeling. His tip was raw and flushed, leaking precum in shameless amounts.

He hoisted your legs on either shoulder and positioned himself at your entrance, looking at you for confirmation, and you nodded feebly. He sunk his entire length into you, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a shrill scream. Your walls were already sore, and the sting of Bakugo’s large cock inside of you was a painful bliss. Tears came quickly, and they rolled down your cheeks while Bakugo rocked his hips into you slowly. He was waiting for his aching to subside before speeding up his rhythm, and once it did he was taken over by an unappeasable greed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting himself in and out of you. “If you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna cum inside you and get you fucking pregnant.” Bakugo had one hand on your headboard, his grip so firm that his knuckles had turned white.

You sobbed underneath him, withstanding your own pain until it subdued into pleasure. You shifted your legs until they wrapped around Bakugo’s strong torso, unable to get enough of him.

Bakugo rammed into you, and your headboard hitting your wall furiously set the tempo until he fell into a staggered cadence.

“I’m gonna cum,” he choked out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--.” Your name was the last thing Bakugo could get out before he broke free of your hold, pulling himself out of you so he could release. He cummed on your stomach, generously shooting out hot spurts of white until he was soft and you were covered in his seed.

Bakugo leaned over and collapsed beside you, short of breath. He was drenched in sweat and his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He chuckled after a few silent minutes.

“What the fuck was that? Were you trying to get me to nut in you?” Bakugo asked, turning to face you.

You didn’t know what he was talking about until you remembered the way you wrapped him up in your legs while he was inside you.

You snorted, erupting into a fit of sheepish laughter. “Yeah.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, bewildered. “Crazy bitch.”

He pulled his sweatpants up and rolled out of your bed. “I’m not ready to be a dad yet,” he voiced, before shuffling lazily out of the room to find something he could clean you up with and smoke a cigarette on the fire escape.

The next morning you found yourself alone, Bakugo nowhere to be found despite you falling asleep with his arms around your waist. You raised a sleepy eyebrow at the empty space next to you that was still sunken from his weight. Okay good, so you didn’t hallucinate last night. You figured Bakugo had early duties to attend to, so you simply grumbled before turning over to get more sleep.

Following that day, every time Bakugo came over to your place, or you found yourself at his, the routine was simple: have breathtaking sex and then pass out.

You grew used to expecting it from him whenever the two of you spent any time alone, and the night before always consumed your thoughts the morning after. You’d squeeze your thighs together during your lecture hall while your professor yammered on about early psychology. The memory of Bakugo’s hand around your throat as he fucked you from behind prompted a surge of heat to your core.

Even when the two of you couldn’t see each other because neither of your schedules coincided, you found a way to make things work, whether it was over the phone, through text, or over Facetime.

Occasionally, you’d ring up Bakugo while he was closing up the shop to taunt him, touching yourself on the other line while he’d grow painfully hard and couldn’t relieve himself until he got home.

“You little fucking shit.” You loved the way his low growls sounded over the phone. “Let’s see how bold you are when I come over and turn your thighs into earmuffs.”

And occasionally, he’d send you videos of himself in bed while you were at the library late cramming for your exams the next morning, touching his cock with haste before cumming on his hands as he groaned your name loudly.

Not an ounce of passion was lost between you two, and if anything you’d only grown closer together from the time spent apart. You had your love back, and everything in your life was ideal.

Of course, that was all before the party.

The party at Sero’s house that you’d caught wind of once you joined Momo, Ochako, and your other friend Mina for lunch.

“You know I don’t like going to parties thrown by frats,” Ochako muttered, ripping off small bites of her chicken wrap.

“Why not? There’ll be plenty of guys there for you to talk to, your phone has been a little dry lately,” Mina responded, laughing silently.

Ochako squinted at her jest before playfully rolling her eyes herself. “That’s exactly why. You know what happened last time I went to a frat party. The hangover isn’t worth it.”

Mina exhaled heavily and turned to you with a hopeful look.

“Y/N, you’ll go with us right? Me and Momo?”

You squeezed your water bottle wearily. “I don’t know. I’m not a fan of frat parties either.” You didn’t know what answer to give her, she looked extremely optimistic, and you hated to rain on Mina’s Friday night plans, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening crammed in a frat house with a crowd of strangers.

Mina stuck out her bottom lip and reached to grab your hand from across the table. “Please? Please? There’s no guarantee Momo won’t ditch me at the party for Todoroki.”

Momo murmured inaudibly beside her.

You sighed, however you relented, giving into the arrangements Mina had made for you, but you regretted your decision far too late.

You showed up to the gathering with Mina and Momo dressed modestly. Unlike your friends and many of the other girls there, you already had someone that you were seeing, and you wanted to look as reserved as you could so there was no confusion around whether or not you were off the market.

Bakugo was possessive, and he preferred to keep his possessions close. There was no telling what he would do or how he’d react if he learned of another man trying to make a move on you.

You took small sips out of your cup while you followed quietly behind Momo and Mina as they moved from person to person, greeting friends you were unfamiliar with. You feigned a cheery smile when you were introduced to them, but overall you were bored with the party scene. You weren’t really a frat party girl.

You yelled over to Momo that you needed another drink and shook your head when she asked you if you needed her to come with you. She looked far too engrossed in her conversation with Todoroki, and you didn’t want to just whisk her away while they were talking. In fact, you were the chairman of the Anti-Cockblock Committee.

You sauntered into the kitchen, sliding in next to the counter once the guests who were there first left. You started grabbing bottles to inspect the labels because to be honest, you weren’t sure what half of these brands were. As a broke college student, you bought your own drinks, which were mainly $20 cases of hard lemonade and cheap raspberry Smirnoff vodka from the liquor store. Clearly Sero had selective taste in high quality shit.

You poured yourself a small sip of Patron, tasting the clear liquid, and tried not to gag at the oaky taste as it burned your throat going down.

You felt someone ease in beside you. “Hey, bartender.”

You glanced at the guest next to you, their familiar visage coming into view. You recognized his distinctive green head of hair and innocent freckles peppered across his cheeks, it was the same face you saw every day in your sociology class.

What was his name? Ku--something. Zu…?

You remembered your professor referred to him by his nickname, Deku, and once you said his name as convincingly as you could, you gathered by his boyish grin that you were right.

“I’m surprised you remembered,” he laughed, and adjusted his circle-rimmed glasses while his emerald eyes swelled into crescents.

“I didn’t really take you for a partier,” you observed. Deku was incredibly smart from what you’d seen in class. He knew the answers before your professor could even finish their questions, and when you’d ask him if he could repeat what the teacher said for your notes, he explained the material even better than the person who was an expert in the subject for a living.

“I’m not,” he replied. “But you know, the college experience and all that.”

You scoffed and nodded, knowingly. “Melt your brain studying for 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, and then get shitfaced whenever you can. Yeah, that’s definitely the college experience,” you joked, pouring yourself a couple shots of vodka and mixed it with orange soda.

“I was meaning to ask you,” Deku started. “I mean--Yeah--I was meaning to ask you for your number in class earlier this week.”

You stirred your drink with a finger before stealing a taste. “Of course,” you agreed happily.

Deku’s face deepened into a rosy bloom once he took out his phone, typing in your contact while you recited the numbers.

“I’m not asking for a weird reason or anything like that. Just so we can help each other out with homework and stuff.”

You nodded, already acknowledging that Deku was a sweet kid, at least as far as you knew. You didn’t expect him to have any promiscuous intentions.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be as much help to you as you’ll be to me,” you teased, and Deku chuckled nervously still trying to shake the blush off his cheeks. “I’m free on Monday, I can meet up with you after class if you want.”

Deku buried his face into his cup, his shallow breathing causing his glasses to fog up. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he mumbled bashfully.

“Text me the deets,” you grinned, before wandering off back to your friends.

On the way back to the stairwell where Momo and Mina were still standing, your attention was drawn by a large crowd around the living room that erupted into jovial squeals and cheers every few seconds. You gravitated toward the mass of guests, standing on your toes to get a better look, but when that didn’t work you gently made your way through the throng of people, issuing soft “sorry, excuse me’s” and “thank you’s” to the people that didn’t mind letting you slip past them.

You had no knowledge that he was going to be here. He never told you what his plans for the night were, but this was the last place you were expecting Bakugo to be.

Here.

Playing a game of “Kiss and Blow” on a crowded couch with someone who wasn’t you. When it reached his turn, you could see his shallow inhale and how he put in no effort to keep the card against his mouth. It fell between the cushions, and the crowd erupted into another rally.

Bakugo grinned artfully and hooked his arm around the eager brunette before smothering her giggles with a deep tongue-filled kiss.

At first, the cogs in your brain couldn’t turn fast enough to register what was happening, and your thought process stuttered for a moment while your eyes took in more than you expected. Your body remained immobile, giving your thoughts a few seconds to catch up. Maybe for those few seconds, your anguish was suspended, and your shock was simply a cushion until you fell apart.

You couldn’t make your way out of the party fast enough, and you didn’t even think to let Momo and Mina know that you were leaving. Everything around you sounded warbled, like you were underwater, as your leaden legs carried you out, past the front lawn, and across the street until you were far away that you could no longer hear the music of the party. It was then that you pulled out your phone to text Mina claiming that you didn’t feel well and called an Uber to take you home.

The following morning you ignored all of Bakugo’s texts. He sent one at 10 AM, asking you if you were down to get breakfast, and then another at noon suggesting lunch since you didn’t respond to his text about breakfast. He texted you again, and again, and again, and you continued to disregard him.

You didn’t cry this time around. No. You were filled with a foreign anger. It was strange and new, and it burned nothing like the rage you’d felt in all your years of living. You didn’t know whether you were angry at him for putting you through this again or if you were angry at yourself for really believing that he’d changed. You really wanted to confront Bakugo in person, but you were afraid of your unpredictability. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw him--roundhouse kick him in the throat most likely.

Bakugo’s relentless attempts to get in contact with you didn’t let up, even late into the night. He sent another text threatening to show up at your apartment if you didn’t answer him, and then he called yet again.

Angrily, you reached out to answer your phone, but once you held it to your ear all the fury you’d been bearing throughout the day emerged.

“Can you fuck off?” You hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bakugo responded, taken off guard by your greeting. “What the fuck?”

“If you were so hellbent on seeing me today, you should have thought about that before you decided to be a hypocritical little bastard! Again!” You shook with anger, unable to effectively piece together all the profane names you wanted to call him.

Bakugo was still while you put him on blast.

“Do you not have anything to say to me, you fuckwit?”

“No, because I don’t even know why you’re going full bitch right now!” Bakugo defended himself. You sat back at his reply, confused at why he was guarded. You knew that when Bakugo was aware he was in the wrong he always remained quiet and pensive.

“Last night?” you clarified. “Does last night not ring a bell to you?”

He let out a small grunt of recollection. “I was at a party last night, what are you talking about?”

“No shit, Bakugo! I saw you swallowing another girl whole!”

The other line erupted into laughter, and a large knot settled in your throat.

“Am I not allowed to kiss other girls now?” he asked.

Had he been hit by a semi-truck? Did he need a swift lobotomy?

“Why would you kiss another girl if you have a girlfriend?”

Bakugo muttered a quiet “what”, and then the lightbulb clicked.

“Holy shit, Y/N, did you think we were back together?”

Huh?

“When did we ever say that we were together?” he questioned lightly, finding your misunderstanding comical.

But--

“I thought we were just fucking around, you know? I never mentioned getting back together, and you didn’t either, so I just assumed we were just fucking.”

You didn’t say a word. As angry as you wanted to be and as angry as you already were, he was right. You had only assumed that you two were back together, but neither of you agreed on it explicitly.

“Our dates...” you countered listlessly.

“Two people hanging out together isn’t always a date.” Bakugo shifted on the other end and then grunted again to occupy the tense silence. “Shitting me, I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking.”

Realization of how foolish you made yourself look set in, and you hoped the awkwardness that hung in the air was fleeting. You swallow heavily, unable to digest defeat.

“Okay,” you murmured, before hanging up and flinging your phone aside.

You and Bakugo didn’t speak for the rest of the night into next morning, and by midday Monday when your study session with Deku rolled around, you were more than reluctant to go. You knew the frustration of someone cancelling last minute, but you were unsure whether you could bring a positive spirit to your meetup, and the last thing you wanted to do was put kind-hearted Deku through your bad mood.

As the time drew closer, you were considering texting him to rain check, letting him know you were feeling under the weather, when he sent you a picture at the coffee shop. Deku had ordered you lunch, mentioning that you must’ve been hungry after classes all day. He explained that he didn’t know what you liked so he just bought for you what he usually got for himself.

After that, you couldn’t have possibly turned him down, so you showed up anyway. Before you knew it, the clock already approached 9 PM, and the coffee shop was about to close for the night. Time had flown by while you were getting lost in upbeat conversation with Deku, and the two of you laughed and joked around more than you’d done your assignment, but you didn’t mind since it gave you another excuse to meet up with him. You didn’t expect him to be as naturally humorous as he was, nor did you guess you’d have as much in common with him as you did, but you’d forgotten about your own heartache during the time you spent in his company. Not to mention, he was very easy on the eyes, but that was just an additional plus.

However, when you finally returned home to your empty apartment that night, all your feelings came flooding back.

“Right,” you muttered to yourself, setting your backpack down by the door, and throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter. “Back to square one.”

Normally, you’d invite Bakugo over, but you had no desire to be anywhere within a three mile radius of him at the moment, so you quickly got ready for bed, figuring that the more time you spent asleep meant less time that you’d have to dwell over the all-too-familiar pain in your chest.

You continued to spend more and more time with Deku even though most of your plans were organized around schoolwork, even if it was studying for a test or just practicing terminology flashcards. Eventually, you’d gotten close enough that you didn’t mind inviting him over since your apartment was much quieter than the dorm he shared with his roommate, Kaminari.

You were both sat on your couch, and you took turns quizzing each other on general knowledge sociology questions. You flipped through the flashcards, Deku answering every question with impressive ease, until you had grown tired.

“Deku, this isn’t fun. You know every term,” you sighed, shuffling through the stack.

“Studying isn’t supposed to be fun, that’s why it’s called studying and not having fun,” he joked lamely, extending his hands to take his flashcards back.

You giggled silently at his flat humor and leaned back against the armrest to put your knees up. “Okay, well what do you like to do when you’re not studying?”

Deku slipped his flashcards into the pocket of his backpack. “Between classes, studying, and wrestling, I don’t really have much time for anything else.”

You gaped. “You wrestle? No fucking way.”

Deku raised an eyebrow at you, amused and unsure of the reason for your stupefaction. “Why do you think I’m a loser or something?”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you explained. “I just wouldn’t have guessed.” You took note of his lean stature. He did look like he worked out, but you never considered his pastime was something as brutish as wrestling. You figured his interests would explain the scars that decorated both of his hands.

“Okay then,” you began, hopping up and throwing the blanket you were wrapped in on the couch. “Teach me something.”

Deku stared at you, uncertain whether you were serious. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, timidly.

“Oh man up, you baby,” you joked while wrapping your hands around his wrists, urging him to stand up. “Who’s to say I won’t hurt you?”

Deku chuckled nervously before following you over to the open space between your living room and kitchen. He stood for a second, thinking of the easiest moves to show you, and then he nodded, like he had fully decided.

“Okay, come here.”

You did as you were told, letting Deku guide you into the correct position. You cleared your throat, unnerved by the way his chest pressed up against your back, and his strong hands looped around your arms to lock them behind your head.

“This is a full nelson,” he instructed. “It’s a submission hold. It’s not allowed in our matches, but feel free to use it if you ever find some creep following you home.” You could feel his chest rumble with laughter between your shoulder blades.  

You nodded, feeling flustered. “Mhm.”

The next demonstration had the two of you on the floor with your arm twisted at an uncomfortable angle while Deku’s arm was situated over your rib cage. You could feel his staggered breathing across the shell of your ear, and you looked over your shoulder expectantly, waiting for him to explain the move.

Deku must have realized how close your faces were to each other because he absolutely lost his cool. He began stammering, unable to get his words out. “And this one is called the--um...sorry it’s called the--,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m--I just wanna kiss you so bad right now.” His body tensed with his confession, but you were the one who made the first move.

Once Deku’s hold loosened, you leaned into him, allowing your lips to collide with his. Your mouths moved against each other fervently, and the two of you rolled over until you were on top of him with your legs on either side of his waist. Ever since a few nights before you’d blown up on Bakugo, you hadn’t been touched. Not even by yourself. You tried, but your fingers came nothing close to competing with his. You were so incredibly needy that you had to forcefully stop yourself from gyrating your hips on Deku’s crotch. He was already red in the face, and you were afraid he might collapse if you worked your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You broke your kiss to take Deku’s hands, and you rested them on your chest. With Bakugo, he would have immediately taken control, driving you into ecstasy, but with Deku it was different. It was as if he had never touched a pair of breasts before. His breathing grew even more shallow as his body became rigid.

You tilted your head, slightly irritated from the lack of action, but you were more concerned about Deku’s wellbeing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tongue in cheek.

Deku nodded anxiously. “Yup, yup, yup, I’m great. I’m good.”

But something was off, and you knew you weren’t enjoying yourself like you typically would even with days of pent up libido. You closed your eyes tiredly and released an exasperated sigh, slowly pulling yourself off of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now--we shouldn’t--.”

Deku opened his mouth to contest, but you cut him off.

“It’s getting late, you should go. I’ll see you around.” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed at your desperation. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized again.

Deku adjusted his glasses and murmured a small “It’s fine, Y/N.” He helped you up after he pulled himself off of the floor and gathered his belongings before heading out quickly, eager to flee the tension.

Fuck, you thought. How did things get so complicated? Deku was a sweet kid, genuinely pure at heart, and you knew he wanted you from the way his emerald eyes were glued to your frame, even while you were fully-clothed. Yet he wasn’t Bakugo. He didn’t know how to work you like Bakugo did, and you felt shamefaced for thinking about your ex-boyfriend again. You mulled it over and began to question why you were stopping yourself from having your cake and eating it too.

Bakugo didn’t intend on getting back together with you, but he enjoyed the phenomenal sex, and so did you. You held so much contempt for him now, but there was no reason why you couldn’t just agree to the terms of his compact.

Exes with benefits, only now with a few additions of your own.

No dates, no flirty chatter outside of your arrangements, nothing that could potentially steer you the wrong way towards forgiving him yet again, because like you told your friends: you were a pushover, and Bakugo was a sweet talker. That was a combination destined for hell.

Your revelation was exactly how you ended up sleeping with Bakugo again. Your sex life was practically a Dr. Seuss book. The two of you would have sex in his car, in the bathroom at a bar, and you’d have sex here, there, and pretty much anywhere.

When you first called him up, he answered almost immediately, somewhat excited to see your contact after going without speaking to each other for nearly a week. After you acceded, he snorted, wondering if you were conspiring.

“Are you fucking scheming something? Cooking up some devious shit to get me alone so you can kill me? Suffocate me while I’m sleeping? You’re goddamn insane.”

You rolled your eyes aggravated. “No. Are you down, or do you wanna pussy out now?”

Bakugo agreed, and both of you managed to keep things fairly cordial. Well, as cordial as they could possibly be, given your shared history. You couldn’t care less about the differences and arguments you had when you guys were in bed. If anything, you preferred it when Bakugo was angry at you, pissed at something you had said or just releasing pent up stress that built up over the week. That only made the sex filthier.

Although Bakugo wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some affection for you, and perhaps still even vice versa. He was possessive over you regardless, even if it meant coming dangerously close to breaching the contract. Especially when he caught you one night with Deku at an on-campus movie screening in the park.

After the fiasco at your apartment with you and Deku, you apologized sincerely to him a couple of days later in class. Deku took no hard feelings to your blunder, and he nodded at the mild rejection when you clarified that things would be best if the two of you stayed friends. He reassured you that he was fine, and he was far too occupied for a relationship of any sort anyway.

But Bakugo wasn’t aware that you two had already tested the waters and decided it was sink rather than swim.

When he spotted you alone sitting on a blanket, he strolled over, wearing a sardonic grin. He struck up a superficial conversation that quickly dissipated once Deku returned with the snacks you two planned on sharing.

Your grin when Deku arrived didn’t compare to the indifferent smile you gave Bakugo when he approached you, and he noticed. His eyes narrowed at your green-haired friend as burning rage coursed through his veins.

“Deku, this is Bakugo,” you said, uninterested in Bakugo’s presence while you took the bag of sour candy Deku offered to you.

Deku smiled at Bakugo, extending his hand to exchange a handshake, but Bakugo simply slapped his hand away dismissively.

“Whatever,” Bakugo jeered, his jaw rooted, before he diverted his attention back to you. “See you later, dumbass.”

He left without a fight, but you knew he wouldn’t put the memory past him, and the following night, all of Bakugo’s anger came bubbling out. The way his brain operated was fascinating, especially since he knew that you two had no romantic commitments to each other, that’s what you agreed on, but finally seeing you over him with someone who he assumed was your new interest turned him crazed.

Bakugo held a painful fistful of your hair, pushing your face into the mattress while he wrecked you. He forced himself into you from behind, muffling your screams with the pillow while he rammed into you relentlessly. Every thrust was vicious, exhibiting the full height of his temper.

“You’re mine, do you understand that? You’re mine to touch, mine to ruin. If anyone else puts their hands on you, I swear I’ll beat them within an inch of their life.”

Bakugo hated to admit it, especially since he knew admitting it turned him into the hypocritical dick of the year, but he enjoyed having you chase after him like a lovelorn puppy. You clung to his side, and you were there at his beck and call. He’d always hated being emotionally tied down, hence his apprehension toward serious relationships, but the way you took advantage of the freedom to see other men made him livid.

“Maybe if I really did put a baby in you other people wouldn’t be such a fucking pain. What do you think?”

Bakugo’s pace didn’t let up as his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled you upright until your head rested back on his shoulder.

“Answer me,” he demanded, dangerously.

All you could muster were broken sobs. You had never seen Bakugo like this, and you were willing to avow that after discounting your fear and pain, it was hot, and you were slightly intrigued.

Bakugo secured his hand around your neck, allowing his fingers to dig into the side of your throat, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you which let you know he was close, but he wasn’t making any efforts to slow down any time soon.

“The thought of you with him makes me want to fucking vomit. You know he’ll never be able to make you feel like I do,” he snarled against your ear. “No one will.”

You choked out a meager “I know” while your vision grew blurrier from the lack of oxygen to your head.

You came first and then Bakugo came shortly after, claiming you by pumping you full with his hot seed until you collapsed on the bed from overexhaustion.

You realized then, through the cloudiness of your thoughts came a single conviction: that your relationship with Bakugo was an endless cycle. You’d taken every romantic risk for Bakugo while he risked nothing. That’s how you remained foolish for so long, so naive. You refused to learn over and over again, and you sacrificed yourself in the process. 

Once Bakugo threw you modest praise and disappeared into the bathroom, you gave way to the enormity of your despair. Your tears were silent and persistent until your breathing turned ragged while humiliation and resentment burned just beneath your skin.

You were smitten with someone who was bad at romance. Your love was a fairytale, but not everyone believed in fairytales, meaning that was both the birth and death of your chronicle. Fairytales were only real if you believed they were.

Bakugo continued to give you reasons to leave and seek out the love you deserved, but you took momentary bliss as your excuse for staying, like a lovesick fool or like an addict dying from overdose. You wish he would at least give you something to hold onto, like false hope or a pretty lie, but you knew that’s all you’d ever be able to do: wish that things were different so you two could have grown into something beautiful.

[tomtenadia]

My knight in shining armour

Rowaelin month Day 2 - University AU

I literally just finished this. I wasn’t going to write for this prompt but then an idea finally hit me.

The title as usual is bad... sorry

2k words

-----

Aelin had days in which she hated men. That was one of those days. 

After finishing high school she decided to took a challenging course at the University of Terrasen. Her dad, before he retired, had been an airforce pilot. She had grown up going around his base, visiting him when he was back. In doing so, she had become obsessed with planes. As she grew up, her dad had let her get friendly with his engineer and the man had started teaching her all she needed to know about aircrafts. From the basic physics to the more obscure detail of how the jet worked. Aelin had been fascinated. She had started reading all the possible books, and as she got older, her dad’s engineer had also started having her to actually help her in the hangar. In the summer when school was out, she would actually get a part-time job as an apprentice at the base and she had loved every moment of it. She had also become very close with the two female pilots and together they had spent time talking about the life of a woman in a boys club. The two women had become her role models very quickly.

Terrasen was quite and open minded country but some ideas were still quite obsolete.

In high school at the question “what you want to be when you grow up?” She always answered an aircraft engineer for the airforce. She never faltered or never doubted. That’s what she wanted to, that was her path.

But when time for uni arrived and she applied for a degree in aeronautical engineering, that’s when she realised that the boys club extended far more than she expected.

She was basically the only woman in the class. None of the guys had approached her and on the first day she had walked in the classroom, one of them had the guts to tell her that the humanities department was in the annex c. She ignored the bastard and sat down at the front. She belonged in that room and she would prove it to every single one of them.

Day after day she had shown her knowledge and surprised her professor who was amazed at the fact that she could answer such in depth questions. Last time it happened, she had turned to Chaol - the asshole who had told her about the annex c, and gave him a smirk. That had removed his stupid grin from his face. It felt amazing.

During a private one-to-one with her professor she had confessed to him she had been working at the airbase as an apprentice during the past three summers. Her teacher had luckily been very supportive and encouraged her to keep up the good work.

Now, six months in, she still hated with a vengeance the arseholes she had to study with. Some of them even had the guts to ask her for some help after they realised she was actually good. She had answered that surely they didn’t want the help of a woman, and walked away.

After another class it was finally lunch time and she was meeting Rowan down at their spot on the grass. They were a couple. He had asked her out in the summer after high school was over and they had been together ever since. He was a med student and he knew her pain about choosing a challenging degree. Both their degrees were very intense and required a lot of time so they would just try and spend as much time together as they could. They had a flat together but the public library was were they spent most of their time.

And when their schedules allowed it, they would enjoy lunch together, venting about their academical choices.

“I fucking hate that bastard.” She raged, dropping her bag on the grass and sitting at his side, depositing a kiss on his lips. She felt better almost immediately, being in his arms was all she needed to feel okay again.

“What did he do now?” Asked Rowan knowing of her struggles in her classes.

Aelin grabbed her bag and pulled out her food, the dinner that Rowan had prepared the previous night and then packed away for both of them.

“The teacher gave us an exercise where we had to design an aircraft with what we had learned so far.” She told him, while munching away her food “He was up first and his project was a effing disaster. Seriously, I’d wouldn’t want to fly on a plane designed by him.” She took a sip of her water “the teacher asked us to say what was wrong and it took me ten minutes to stop. I mean, a two year old would have done a better job with lego bricks.”

Rowan giggled at her side “then my turn came and the bastard had the guts to tell me that the aerodynamics of my plane were off and that my ailerons where wrong as well and would not allow the plane to function properly. I took my laptop and shoved it in his face and told him to find the error in my math. He had no clue.” Her face turned smug “then the teacher took over and said that actually my project was, among all, the only one that could actually fly. I felt smug as fuck.”

Rowan pulled an arm around Aelin’s shoulder and pulled her to him. He was proud of her. Every damn day.

“Then after class, he threw me a paper plane and inside it had a message saying this is the only plane you will ever build or work on. I swear, the guy is still alive only because I am not looking forward to finishing my degree via distance learning from a prison.”

She calmed down “how was your day?”

Rowan leaned back against the tree “I had anatomy and physiology. Today we covered the endocrine system and it must be one most boring of them all.”

“Well,” she added with a big smile “when you cover the reproductive system you are welcome to practice with me…”

He laughed and squished her to her chest “I am a very big fan of your… bits.” She kissed him deeply not caring that they were in public, she wanted him and hated that they had more classes before being able to go home and then alas, study more. Maybe for one evening they could study something different.

“Aelin?”

“Yes, buzzard?”

His tongue gently teased her and she opened for him while his hand brushed off a rebel strand of hair.

He pulled back “Nothing, you had tomato sauce on you lips. I was just wiping it off. Did you think I wanted to kiss you?” 

Aelin gently punched him on the shoulder, in return he gave her a massive grin. Rowan was a very reserved man who struggled with stranger, but she had her own version, the goofy one, the one who made jokes and loved to cuddle with her. She would treasure that version forever. That was just for her.

They were busy chatting away and she was showing him on her laptop the exercise she had been working on and her plane prototype and although what she was saying was greek to him, he still listened to her in fascination.

She was telling him how a plane flew and the four forces when a figure stopped in front of them.

“It must be exciting to brag with your boyfriend about your hopeless projects.” Said the man.

Rowan raised his eyes and finally saw the face of the man that had been making Aelin’s life miserable.

“What did you just say?” Rowan stood and towered on the brown-haired man by twenty centimetres. Chaol also looked frail compared to Rowan’s muscular frame.

“Chaol, you’d better go.” Not that she cared about the man, she just didn’t want Rowan to get into trouble for a petty man.

“You’d better give up while you still can, Galathynius. Aeronautical engineering is not a field for a woman.” He crossed his arms at his chest trying to look intimidating but the look in Rowan’s eyes told her it was a useless attempt. Her boyfriend was ready to attack. She knew he had never hit anyone, but had a feeling that if Chaol didn’t stop it could be a first for Rowan.

“Chaol,” she stood as well and growled his name in warning.

“Oh, so you are one of those arseholes who believes that certain jobs can be done only by those who were born with a penis. It’s the fucking 21st century. Grow up, idiot.”

Rowan swore, alarm bells rang in Aelin’s head. He only swore when he was extremely mad, something that her unflappable boyfriend rarely was.

“Oh look, Galathynius, you have a knight in shining armour.”

Aelin moved between Rowan and Chaol, trying to separate them when her boyfriend moved a step closer to the other guy.

Chaol chuckled “Did you sleep with every professor—” but Chaol never finished his sentence. She saw the scene develop in slow motion in front of her. At those words Rowan’s face had turned feral and as on instinct his arm moved and a second later his fist found its target in Chaol’s face. 

Rowan then grabbed Chaol by the collar and lifted him up slightly “You take it back, immediately or I’ll smash all the twenty two bones in your skull.”

“Go on,” said Chaol, nursing a broken lips.

Aelin stopped in between and grasped Rowan’s hand gently “Put him down, Ro, he is not worth it.”

Her gaze then turned to Chaol “now you go back to whatever shithole you came from and perhaps go back working on your project and design a real aircraft.” She moved closer to him “I know what the fuck I am doing. And I know I will have a job in the airforce after this. You will just go back being daddy’s little spoiled boy.”

Chaol glared at her and Rowan finally let go of him, bur before he fully released him he pulled the man close enough that his mouth was near his ear “you disrespect her like that one more time and you’ll finish your degree from a hospital bed while sipping your food from a straw.” Rowan flashed his teeth in a threatening gesture “you leave her alone, because if I hear you have been a bastard to her one more time, I will make your life a living hell.” And eventually released him. Chaol shrugged his t-shirt back into place and walked away without adding another word.

Rowan sighed and then turned to her, his expression back being soft as soon as she looked back at him.

“You didn’t have to punch him,” she said while snuggling against his chest. His arms quickly around her.

“Yes I had to. What he said….” She felt him tense up again “he made me so mad, fireheart.”

“Seeing you thump him was very sexy,” she kissed him gently on the lips “my knight in shining armour.”

Rowan chuckled and looked into he blue eyes “you don’t need a knight. You are fierce, brave and strong and do not need any protection,” he added, his lips on her head. Nesting under his chin was her favourite position. They fit perfectly “I, on the other hand, as a male who is hopelessly in love with you, felt the desperate need to avenge the sullied honour of my amazing other half.”

Aelin giggled hard “you really sound like a knight.”

“Come on, Sir Rowan Whitethorn of Wendlyn, let’s finish our lunch, I have an hour of mechanics of flight coming up and I need sustenance.”

“Yes, my queen,” he said kneeling in front of her.

Aelin laughed and kissed him deeply “maybe I can be your queen tonight in bed as well.”

His smirk grew wider and Aelin felt heat pool at her core at his expression.

“Whatever m’lady commands.”

They finished their lunch in peace without any more interruptions and eventually they parted ways, going to their respective classes.

Chaol did not bothered her anymore. He didn’t even met her gaze and him ignoring her was all she asked. She was there to learn, he could just go and sulk in the afterburner of a jet, perhaps while on, for all she cared.

Aelin texted Rowan a thank you and his reply was a simple To whatever end.

[chidoroki]

Isabella - 73584

I had a serious debate with myself over whether or not I wanted to sit down and spend my weekend writing another one of these praise posts. I was content with just doing one for each of the Fullscore Trio kids and ending it there.. but apparently I love this woman too much to just ignore her on her birthday. So here were are on September 9th with a list of all her best and my personal favorite moments as to why I believe she’s such a great character, antagonist and mother (yeah you heard me right). Considering she only shows up in the beginning and very end of the story, this post ended up longer than I originally anticipated, which just goes to show how many thoughts I really have about this woman. (for real, this rivals Ray’s post in terms of points but there’s far more words)

Since she also has some backstory and certain events differ between manga and anime (thanks to the second season), I’ll try to go in chronological order between both timelines instead of chapter by chapter, which might be a bit confusing as we’ll jump around the story a lot but just to bear with me as I try to makes sense of it all.

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland & ch181.7, so if you haven’t read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I’m literally going from start to finish with this one last time. I promise.)

- I’m not sure how well she compares to Emma when it comes to athleticism, but Isabella seemed to have no trouble climbing up and down trees when she was younger.

- Not only that, but she managed to scale the wall by herself using a method that requires a fairly impressive jump. It’s also implied that this is how she climbs the wall again so many years later when chasing the soon-to-be escapees, which helps prove that even at an older age, she hasn’t lost her touch.

- Was chosen to undergo training to become a Mom, which required high test scores and the current mother’s recommendation. She accepted the offer in order to keep living and survive as human the demons couldn’t eat.

- Based on Sienna’s comment, is it fair to say Isabella is on par with the full score trio? I mean, the woman is basically flawless.

- She was practically untouchable during her time at headquarters while training too apparently. Mom positions are scarce so the environment where these ladies fight (physically/mentally/emotionally) to even snag that job is highly competitive, and yet Isabella never let anyone deter her from her goal of becoming a Mom, which probably led to the “Iron Lady” nickname she received now that I think about it.

- She was the youngest ever to be granted the Mom position at..what, 19? 20? Somewhere around there, but impressive nonetheless considering they’re forced to have a child, build up a strong, emotionless exterior and endure so much fear. (but my goodness, the woman doesn’t age at all. she looks just as good when the story actually starts as she did her when she was a bit younger)

- It became common knowledge among the Sisters that she was also very successful in the way she raised her children.

- Her success greatly benefited the farm, as she offered up countless high quality goods, which sounds terrible, I know, but believe me when I say she gave her best effort for her children. Even though she held the Mom position, the amount of power she actually had in this system was pretty minimal, especially with how much she valued her own life. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes or risky changes, so she settled with doing the most with what she was capable of. She provided her children with a normal lifestyle, not only to keep up the orphanage facade, but knowing that their lives would all be cut shorter than they anticipate. She gave them love in hopes that no one would ever have to feel the dread she felt after Leslie’s death and/or finding out the truth. She tried to delay that horrific fate by encouraging them to learn all they can (like teaching the trio about strategy and chess) so they could achieve higher tests scores and (unknowingly to them) add a couple more months or years onto their lives. Yes it was her job to raise these children to such high standards but she excelled at it for their sake too.

- And I know y’all will just throw Ray in my face like, “oh but he was her actual child and she treated him horribly/different.” Okay but deep down I don’t think she actually wanted to? When they both realized they were truly mother and son, Isabella couldn’t just dote on him and start treating him as such. I’m sure Ray wasn’t too fond of Isabella at this point in his life either, knowing that she sent several of his siblings away to get killed. They probably would’ve gotten along just fine in a perfect world, but since they were both aware of the hell they’re trapped living in, they emotionally distanced themselves and formed a business-like relationship as a result of Ray’s deal, which benefited them both in different ways. For Ray, it was more practical, with the obvious notion of living as long as possible along with obtaining various rewards and knowledge of the outside world. For Isabella, it helped emotionally by simply just ignoring their true relation. I believe if she clung to that realization, it would break the orphanage illusion and eventually wear down her “Iron Lady” exterior that she relies so heavily on.

- Like can you imagine how much you would have to harden your heart in order to quite literally walk children to their death every couple months for years on end and just move on like it’s completely normal? Now imagine how earth shattering it must be to think about doing the same to your actual child. All those years spent perfecting a fake smile and emotionless exterior like she was trained to have and her son shatters it in an instant. She becomes completely terrified about how he’s actually alive and in front of her right now and there’s nothing she can do to truly save him.. and yet she still recovers so damn quickly I can’t even comprehend it! But there’s still some sadness in those eyes. You can’t tell me otherwise. That one moment of weakness speaks volumes to me.

- So now with her general backstory FINALLY out of the way, we can finally start with ch01/ep01 and how her laugh is sweet and innocent. I say that because (all hidden emotions and motives aside) that’s exactly how she’s supposed to sound in this moment, not only to us but to the children as well.

- She of course checks Emma’s tracker a moment later but other than that I still think it’s a pretty genuine moment between the two.

- As previously stated, her ability to raise high quality children is unmatched, which is clear as day thanks to the fullscore trio.

- Despite their crazy level of intelligence, the trio has yet to win a simple game of chess against Isabella, even when teamed up.

- She treasures everything about the kids.

- She really cares about them, even when it’s time to send them off with a smile, which we know is thanks to her strong facade.

- But mother dearest isn’t really fine. She doesn’t like walking kids to their death, especially so young. But she can’t let them (or even herself) know that. She can’t show weakness, so she hums Leslie’s song, which is a tool she’s used for years in order to give herself strength.

- Don’t worry, I disliked her this moment happened too, just as the story intended. And here’s where her fantastic antagonist role begins for all the world to see.

- A true champ at jump scares.

- Acts completely calm the night after a couple of kids found out the secret of the farm.

- She uses the tracker in plain sight, sending whomever went to the gate last night a threatening but silent message.

- Correct Norman, that’s the “Iron Lady” for ya. Also the name of ch03 for us. Well, “The Iron Woman” but same difference.

- She switches from calculating and manipulative breeder to sweet and pleasant mother so quickly and effortlessly it’s incredible. Isabella even checked Emma’s pulse in this scene to see if she was acting normal.

- At this point she still had no idea who went to the gate (Ray didn’t tip her off yet, at least I don’t think so) but her guess couldn’t have been more precise. The level of fear she drives into both Emma and Norman was great too, but then again her presence is enough in any scene to give us chills.

- Notices her watchdog isn’t at his usual post and starts to get suspicious.

- Not only of him, Emma and Norman, but Don and Gilda as well, thus giving the five extra chores to finish in an attempt to slow down any escape planning, such as cleaning vacant rooms, organizing the pantry and inspecting spare linen.

- While the trio believes Isabella was being too soft and patient in finding her targets, she effectively catches them off guard by bringing in Krone for assistance. The trio soon realize they were actually preparing the sister’s new room and those mundane chores were just an excuse to buy time.

- Look at her, all smug. Checkmate indeed. (and totally not important, but her eyes are such pretty shades of purple)

- The sass and her no nonsense attitude.

- Immediately puts Krone in her place the moment she even thinks about shipping out the targets. Of course holding off on shipping the targets would benefit the farm, as it would produce higher quality merchandise as time passes, but plant 3 is run by Isabella and she’ll be damned if an assistant thinks they could waltz right in and decide her children’s fate.

- She check’s Emma tracker again despite her claim of knowing exactly who the targets might be. You can never be too careful.

- Her precious children managed to win a game of tag against Krone, which is still impressive considering the kind of training the sister has gone through, so kudos to her teachings.

- Knows right away that Krone was trying to take advantage, which allows Krone to realize that the opening she had to learn more about the children was all planned by Isabella herself. Her intimidating nature is enough to scare adults too.

- Reveals that Krone was mostly summoned in order to keep Ray in check after his failure.

- Despite the trust issue, Isabella still keeps up her end of the deal by requesting the items Ray asked for, thanks to the odd perks she had under Grandma Sarah which allowed her to order goods that weren’t on the supply list.

- This hug between her and Phil is just too cute not to mention.

- I imagine she makes this comment because she knows exactly how long a rope must be based off her own almost-escape.

- It’s just something about how this scene is framed alongside this dialogue that makes me think “oh, like mother, like son.”

- I blame her very thoughtful planning for my first big freak out when I watched season 1 blind, like ma’am that’s my favorite boy, please don’t.

- She conspires with Grandma Sarah in order to get rid of Krone for good, which renders the evidence sister just found out about the children’s escape completely useless. Sarah believes there might be some truth to it, but ultimately ignores it and puts her faith in Isabella’s ability of controlling the children & the situation.

- She then cuts Ray off and ends their six-year long deal, opting to control the situation herself from now on. Also, how she wanted to keep him around until the very end is kinda bittersweet. Does she mean as merchandise? Or because she wanted him to live as long as possible? Ah such a tricky little comment.

- She also tosses him across the room like a rag doll.

- Thank god for this panel existing and actually being adapted into the anime so I could hear it because I had absolutely no memory of her laughing in this moment.

- “She says it so nonchalantly,” Norman said once upon a time, and it’s still so frightening.

- As insane as her ideals seem given the circumstances, nothing she says here is really a lie.

- She has the strength to quite literally break a leg and that cracking noise still haunts me to this day.

- It wasn’t even a spur of the moment thing either. Isabella came fully prepared with bandages to fix up any injury she was willing to inflict and that thought alone is terrifying.

- Not only that, but she broke it so cleanly that Emma’s leg does indeed heal perfectly in the exact time frame she estimates. This entire moment is so unfairly impressive, like ma’am how dare you do this to Emma of all people.. like why couldn’t you at least use that kind of force to snap Peter’s neck instead or something?

- To make matters worse, she then reveals Norman’s shipment date. And it’s the following day, which sends the kids into a very understandable panic.

- Needless to say, November 2nd, 2045 was a very successful day in the life of Isabella. Woman was putting everyone in checkmate in ep08 and my anger on full blast.

- This sly smile she sends Ray’s way after announcing Norman’s shipment to the younger kids is so cruel.. it’s perfect.

- I can only imagine she asked about Ray’s whereabouts because she knew the boys were close friends and she hoped they would at least say goodbye to one another, but that’s just me.

- Puts an end to Norman’s parting words in such a simple and chilling matter.

- The way she just openly threatens Emma with others just out of earshot.

- Norman out here asking the real questions. If anything, I say she’s more “content” rather than happy. I don’t think she’s ever really thought about her own happiness, at least not often enough, hence the slight pause. This entire time she’s been focusing on how to make her children’s lives perfect, but for herself she just wants to survive in this hellish world they’re all living in.

- I’m honestly still not sure who’s final decision it is to send people to Lambda, either Isabella, Peter or someone else (honestly never bothered to check), but whether or not Isabella had any say in the matter, I’m sure she’s at least a little glad that Norman gets to live a bit longer? Perhaps that’s a stretch, but I’m putting the idea here anyway.

- I say this because I believe that’s part of the reason why she offered Emma a Mom recommendation, not only because our girl’s high test scores, but in hopes that she could live a longer life.

- Although she really stresses in an intimidation fashion how pointless Emma’s efforts are now that Norman’s “dead,” the cliff remains a major hazard and her leg is still bandaged up, Isabella still tries so hard to convince her to give up, like Ray has, in order for Emma to end her own suffering. It was the first instance during my blind watch-through were I started to get the hint that Isabella might actually care about her kids, and of course I know now it’s because she didn’t want Emma to experience the same pain she did after Leslie’s death.

- With Emma and Ray both broken, things went by rather smoothly for Isabella those last two months, though she continued to keep a close eye on them.

- Her humming is so soothing. And why it took me this long to bring up “Isabella’s Lullaby” is beyond me, but oh my god, that song and any other soundtrack that uses its melody is absolute perfection.

- Had enough sense to not let her guard down the final night, even though her efforts were ultimately unsuccessful, but the idea counts.

- Though her caretaker side is focused on more during the fire, some motherly instincts do kick in as she instructs Gilda to get the babies from her room and lead everyone outside to safety. She was also concerned for Emma’s well being, hoping all the smoke didn’t get to her when the girl vanished. (i know you can argue “she’s only worried because they’re merchandise” which is fair but c’mon, i swear she’s not completely heartless)

- Took a hot minute (ahha) but Isabella eventually realized that the kids were actually escaping solely based on what they were wearing on their feet. I’m sure Emma’s discarded left ear was a big tip off too but to come to that conclusion by noticing the shoes they had on during all that chaos is surprising.

- She looks completely insane here but I always thought this shot of her was nicely animated with all the fire (or embers? sparks? whatever they are) flying around. The laugh she does before this is also a nice bonus. Oh, and she somehow managed to secure a radio from the room Don had locked.

- Figured the fifteen kids would head towards the bridge and called in headquarters to block it off.

- But when the children didn’t appear at the bridge, she just happened to know exactly where else they might try to cross the cliff.

- In the anime’s case, Isabella climbed the wall and ran there quick enough to engage in a stare down with Emma before she finally slid down.

- The moment I knew I was doomed.

- After the 15 kids successfully escaped, Isabella admits defeat, for she couldn’t really see how much her children have grown to outsmart her.

- This iconic quote, which conveys so much truth and sincerity. There were multiple occasions where she had to distance and restrain herself due to the system that controlled her, but the love she was able to show the children was genuine. If she wasn’t held back by the strict rules enforced by Mom position, I don’t doubt she would’ve treated Ray better or became far more emotional whenever a child had to leave for good or seriously injured, instead of donning a fake smile and being closed off.

- She realizes with this unspeakable loss in merchandise, the reputation she worked so hard to build up is meaningless now and that the farm no longer has any use for such an incompetent caretaker. She figures she’s as good as dead anyway now, so she wastes no time in actually helping the escapees by reclaiming the ropes to hide their exact method and route of escape, if only to grant the kids some extra time before the pursuers really locate them.

- She doesn’t act bitter as a result of her loss, instead choosing to wish the escapees luck with the future they grasped for themselves and care for the children that were left behind.

- She’s just so pretty y’all. Thank you anime.

- She was named “Best Antagonist” (and rightfully so!) back during the 2020 Crunchyroll Anime Awards, winning over Askeladd (Vinland Saga), Overhaul, (My Hero Academia), Garoua (One Punch Man,) & others.

(Post-season 1 spoilers ahead, even though the anime is completely finished at this point, but will be touching upon her special chapter more as well.)

- Completely owns up to her mistakes that caused the farm a massive loss in profitable goods and is ready to received whatever punishment necessary, which she expects to be death.

- Only.. she’s not being killed, she’s actually being promoted to Grandma. Though Isabella was directly responsible for the children’s escape, the blame ultimately falls on Sarah who couldn’t correctly control Isabella, thus leading the old lady to be shipped out in place of the goods Isabella lost.

- Peter also notes that the farm found more worth in Isabella than Sarah, so her past merits also played a part in sparing her life, as having a woman like Isabella in charge would surely produce the level of quality the farm needs.

- Isabella eventually accepts the promotion, though she can’t help but feel hesitant and shocked about the whole deal. This woman was ready to embrace death and finally be free from this cruel world, but now she has to witness not only more kids being shipped off, but moms and sisters in training as well (yay old chapter reviews coming in clutch).

- She could have very well just refused Peter’s offer, but we all know how much Isabella originally wanted to survive, so she doesn’t just accept because this man dangled a sense of freedom in her face, she also agreed so she could have the opportunity to help her children in any way her newfound power would allow her.

- Of course, her transition to Grandma happens a bit differently in the second season, but I will give some bittersweet thanks to the anime once more for the obvious but curse them for also having this entire scene dark as hell. Let me see her beauty darn it! I can only fix the lighting so much until it looks overexposed and bad again.

Anyways, Sarah is still alive at this point and taunts Isabella with the escapee’s lives just to see how she would react, which gave her a small sense of hope. Then some demons pay a visit later on and also ask if she would want to see the children one last time, but Isabella tells them that not only would she be too ashamed to face them but that they would manage to survive Grandma’s capture plan, which involved several men blowing up their shelter. It’s now clear to the demons that these children are special, and while Isabella agrees, it’s not for the same reason the demons think so. The demons believe the kids are special because of how they were raised to such a high quality. Isabella calls them special simply because they’re her children, just as any mother would.

- In the anime, it’s the demons who offer Isabella the Grandma deal if Sarah’s current plan were to fail (which it does) and she takes it and the freedom from Grace Field House without question. Do I still believe she had similar intentions to help out the children like she did in manga at this point? Of course.

- Not even a full month into her new job did she start preparing to help Emma & the others by considering who from the current Sisters she wanted to recruit to personally assist her destroy the farm entirely.

- A month later and Isabella had already decreased the number of shipments that took place at Grace Field, which obviously helps raise the quality of the children by default, but it also means less death and gives those kids a chance to live longer.

- She completely anticipated that Matilda, Jessica, Sienna & Scarlet were conspiring against her and caught them quite easily, as they were among the top scorers.

- Each had a fair chance at becoming Moms but with those positions limited, it was obvious to figure out they were trying to force Isabella’s seat open by creating some suspicious activity to place on her almost perfect record. Unfortunately for the girls, our new Grandma is too smart for her own good and I love it.

- The four women are apprehensive to join her insane plan to go against the farm, but Isabella assures them there’s no freedom if they follow the system’s rules and betray her. The harsh reality they’re all living in will continue unless they stop competing with one another and combine forces to defeat the true enemy.

- To persuade them further, Isabella mentions the children they all gave birth to are still alive, bringing out an array of emotions from the women that they each thought they had buried deep down.

- THIS! Just all of this is wonderful and shows just how much Isabella learned from her children who once defeated her.

- To fully gain the women’s trust, she gives them Ray’s farewell note that he originally left in order to bait Krone, as proof she won’t double-cross them at any point.

- I love the fact that she kept the note close to her because it acts just like all the other various toys and items she saved in her secret room back at plant 3. The original owners were all precious to her so she kept a piece of them behind to remember them in a place only she knew about. As I said before when mentioning her “I wish I could have just loved them normally” quote, all the love she had for her children had to be suppressed when she was under the system’s control, but that doesn’t mean she never cared. Because she did, and if I haven’t made at least that clear by now then I’m failing.

- Can her intentions and love for her children be any more clear? (possibly, i’m not done with this darn post yet. how you guys holding up? i’m going a little insane at this point.)

- Anyways! Second season didn’t make the rest of the story easy so apologies for any timeline mishaps as I switch between both anime and manga events from here on out.. like how in manga Isabella is informed of the escapee’s return to Grace Field via Peter, while the in the anime it’s her who helps lures them back with a fake transmission via the radio they stole.

- Just before Emma & the others do return to Grace Field on November 13, Isabella finally reaches out to the farm’s many other Sisters to recruit them. She waited until the right moment to inform them of her crazy takeover plan so Peter wouldn’t become suspicious from all of headquarters acting/thinking differently (you know, like how Emma kept the jailbreak plan under wraps until the night of). These ladies also feel a bit wary and even think of Isabella’s offer as a joke, but with some real, heartfelt encouragement, she manages to win over every single woman to her side.

- The moment when it was first revealed to us that she was not only still alive but was also promoted to Grandma is still so powerful.

- She snaps Nat’s finger back into place after Peter broke it. (and considering emma’s group infiltrates the farm right after this, i’m pretty sure that ch170 with rallying the sisters took place before this..i think?)

- Gave me a minor heart attack.

- *CLAPS FRANTICALLY!!!* The moment she truly won me over.


- While her betrayal against Peter in the manga is fantastic and quite possibly one of my favorite moments, the anime did give us a little something too. It shows Peter spewing utter nonsense to Emma about how she’s destined to fail, only for best girl to bite back with such a fantastic quote, and then Isabella drops the act and switches sides. While I agree Emma’s comeback is “wonderful,” it’s the English dub that completely wins me over in this scene by having Isabella comment “Now that’s my girl” instead, like bro.. hearing that makes me so happy.

- For real dude, you have several highly skilled women pointing guns at you, I think her betrayal is crystal clear.

- This is like the perfect example of how she had to conceal her feelings while bound by the system. She just misses these kids so much y’all but she can’t let her true emotions show yet.

- Having her call Peter a boy is beyond hilarious to me. Also, how she disagrees with him on so many levels is excellent, like how he believes in experimenting on kids and having the right to call yourself their parent just because you created them, while Isabella believes in raising and loving children normally and that you earn that parent title by actually being part of their lives. To be fair they both inflicted pain on kids (Nat’s finger/Emma’s leg) but Peter’s action was a mistake in itself. Isabella got frustrated back when Krone even threatened to ship out the kids who discovered the secret, so you can bet she’s probably pissed off at this boy for harming one of her kids on purpose.

- The best mother-daughter moment ever! It’s such a shame it never got truly animated since the second season decided not to give the children guns, but we get to see a small smile from Isabella after Emma decided to still call her “mom.”

- The anime never gave Peter the chance to run away, like he (somehow) managed to do in manga, so we had the chance to see someone actually shoot at him. Well, in his general direction at least. Isabella lands a perfect shot not even a full second after he pulls out that disc. Accuracy on point.

- Said this once or twice in the past in manga so I’m glad the anime brought it back.

- Remains cautious and keeps her gun raised at Peter when Emma approaches him and rightfully so considering he still had his knife hidden at this point.

- Refuses Emma’s offer to join the kids in the human world at first because she knows that her (& the sister’s) actions shouldn’t be forgiven so easily, but with some rather blunt sympathy from Ray and encouragement from her other children, she finally gives in.

- This entire post summed up in one image.

- She apologizes even though distancing herself from her kids and preparing them for death were just required of her role as a caretaker. She wouldn’t have done any of that in a normal world. (do i sound like a broken record yet? probably)

- The emotion you hear in her voice during this entire dub scene hits my heart in all the right places.

- She still thinks of Leslie after all this time and I think that’s real cute.

- Her protective nature is on full display when she protects Emma from this bastard of a demon. A truly surprising and heartbreaking moment, considering this is the woman who’s survival used to be her top and only priority in the past, but now doesn’t hesitate to give her life in order to save her kid (and by extension that small girl emma saved. also, major heart attack for me).

- Despite being critically injured, this woman still possess enough strength to hold back a demon twice her size. She doesn’t even pay any mind to its nonsense. Like the demon, people often think this is when redemption arc starts but I believe it started way back in ch37 when Isabella retrieved and hid the ropes the kids used to escape. Ever since she admitted defeat on the wall that night, she threw caution to the wind and began cheating the system in hopes to one day assist the kids achieve a brighter future. Despite all the work she’s done behind the scenes, Isabella believes there’s still so much more she can do to atone, so even though she’s already received the children’s forgiveness, she continues to assist them by jumping in and saving them directly from demons for once in her life.

- Ma’am it’s sweet you’re so concerned with their safety, but we should be asking you that question ya know? (but then again emma was the same way after she woke up from her coma).

- Knows that just apologizing and saving Emma isn’t enough to suddenly forgive all her actions and wants to do so much more for the children as a result. Even though I already acknowledged all her subtle and hidden moments, I wish we got to see her care for them more openly.

- I simply can not read through ch177 and not get emotional. No matter how hard I try, I always feel tears start to form in my eyes. Oh my god, how cruel that death can be this beautiful. It’s so unfair.

- *uses old chapter review because I’m too upset right now* “She apologizes for everything. For not treating him right and loving him as a mother normally would her own son. For making him despise his life so much and enduring so much pain that he thought the only escape was suicide.”

- “She leaves him with one last wish to protect everyone, and that completely breaks me because you know exactly how much they both care for their family. Not only would they literally die for their family, but they would live for them too if someone asked. Truly like mother, like son.” (aaaaaahhhhh)

- Her, umm.. ghost (along with Conny’s & Yuugo’s) help Ray reunite with Emma in 2049.

- All my tears aside, the anime did something right by actually keeping her ALIVE!

- Have you ever seen something so GODDAMN BEAUTIFUL in all your life?? This image is so powerful it literally tossed aside any salty feelings I had that night with how the second season ended. Seeing her like this grants me so much happiness y’all, it’s truly unbelievable. I still can’t get over it and hopefully I never will.

Okay, now I’m done, thank god. Sorry this is like ridiculously long, especially since she’s absent for sooo many chapters. Also find it so hilarious how drastic my opinion of her changed from the beginning to now, from “bitch” to “oh my god I love her so much.” I know people will always have opposing opinions whether she’s actually a good mother or not and that’s totally fine. Wasn’t trying to convince y’all of that either because yes, some of her actions are real unforgivable, but she was suffering under the farm system too and just followed through with what she was trained to do in order to survive, but while other Sisters fought to climb ranks and help themselves survive, Isabella ultimately wanted the best for her children. The more power she gained, the more risks she took and once the system crashed so did her facade.

An absolute queen.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Banana Bread - IUI

This was choice number 2 for the 2k poll! These are some high stakes fam I’ve been threatening this for a minute. I really hope it doesn’t disappoint lmao.

Warnings: i mean its IUI - tattoos and stupidity are in the brand, alluding to Jaskier’s past shitty relationships, nothing harsh though, big softies and big cries

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Geralt got up early to get things set up and hidden so Jaskier wouldn’t see the tattoo machine before he went to work. He even made his boyfriend breakfast so he wouldn’t have time to mosey around their flat and happen upon it. He’d had three hours to practice before a shift at the bar, then probably two hours after that to practice and clean up before Jask got home from his last appointment of the day. 

Yen had been teaching him how to tattoo on bananas. 

He’d had to bake a ridiculous amount of banana bread because of the fruit choice and he regretted not getting oranges to just make juice with when he was done with them.

This was his third day practicing and he’d finally figured out how to make a solid line without skipping or wobbling too bad. The cursive words weren’t tattoo quality, but they were legible and pretty fucking neat compared to his chicken scratch in his server’s notebook. 

He sat up and stretched out his neck when his alarm went off. Jaskier’s last appointment was just showing up so he had about two hours until he’d be home. He could totally get one more practice banana done. 

Geralt hunched forward over the fruit again and clicked the machine on, quickly zoning out on his task. When he finished the sentence (his best yet) he set the pile of bananas on the kitchen counter before packing up the machine and hiding it under the couch. 

He’d meant to get up and send a picture to Yen for approval. He’d definitely meant to hide the evidence of his plan before Jaskier got home. 

But the bar had been packed for the lunch rush and he’d replaced four kegs and staged two because Abby couldn’t lift them and he was just so damn tired. He made the mistake of leaning back to rest and within seconds he was out. 

-

He woke up to a banana smacking him in the face, then another in his shoulder, then yet another far too close to his dick for comfort. He lurched forward in horror when he realized what was happening. 

“Oh fuck!”

“Oh fuck indeed! This is why we have so much fucking banana bread?!” Jaskier threw another banana at him from the kitchen island, smacking him in the neck.

“Shit! No! Uh… fuck,” Geralt leapt up and collected the bananas from the living room floor before turning to see his boyfriend crying, “I… fucked up.” 

Jaskier’s face flitted through at least twenty different emotions in the span of five seconds but Geralt only felt terror. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He’d planned a little getaway and surprise and he’d do it at the top of a beautiful hike when the sun was setting. He thought he could put a banana in Jask’s bag and ask for a snack at the top. Or something like that. He wasn’t too sure about the whole hiking thing. But it sure as hell wasn’t supposed to happen while he was asleep. 

“You…?” Jaskier picked up the last banana still on the kitchen counter and stared at it before looking back up at Geralt, “Do you mean this?”

Geralt nodded, still absolutely petrified.

“This isn’t just some sentence you chose to practice?”

Geralt shook his head. 

Jaskier took a deep breath and wiped his face, back to staring at the banana, “Why?”

“Well you said you can’t have jewelry on your hands at work because of health regulations and rings can be a pain in the ass at the bar so…” Geralt slowly rounded the couch and stood just a couple feet in front of Jaskier, “I don't know, I just thought we could tattoo them on?”

The look on Jaskier’s face was completely unreadable, and Geralt had recently said he was fluent in his boyfriend’s expressions, “No, why do you want to marry me?” 

Geralt frowned before he gently took the banana out of his hands and sunk down to one knee, “Because you are everything I could ever want and more,” he licked his lips and blinked the sleep out of his eyes before he continued, really wishing he’d stopped for coffee on the way home, “I love everything about you. Literally everything. Even the annoying things,” Jaskier gave a watery smile and held out his hand, which Geralt eagerly took as he babbled on, “I love your voice in the morning and when you yell at me and when you sing in the shower. I love how passionate you are and how you’d do anything for the people you love. I love your ridiculously blue eyes,” he gave Jask’s hand a squeeze and took a moment to clear away the tightness in his throat and blink a couple times, “I love how strong you are. I love that you’re still open and gentle and sweet even after everything you’ve been through. I will grumble and complain but I really do love that you push me to be better,” he took a deep breath and tried his best to keep his voice steady but Jask was looking at him like he was the only thing that had ever mattered in the whole universe, “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I can’t believe I almost booked my first tattoo with a scary looking guy smoking a cigarette in his profile picture. I am so so unbelievably lucky to have you and I want to do everything in my power to make you happy. Forever. But if you dont bite that wobbling lip I'm not going to make it through this.”

Jaskier laughed and wiped at his nose, biting his bottom lip.

Geralt cleared his throat again as he finally lost his battle with the tears, “Jaskier Pankratz, brilliant and ridiculous love of my life, will you marry me?”

He nodded and let out a strangled high pitched whine as he tugged Geralt up to his feet and clung to his shoulders. Geralt held him close and rested the hand not currently holding a banana on the back of his head as he cried into his shirt for a minute. 

“Yes!” Jaskier gasped as he stood back to look at Geralt, almost choked really, with the way he was still crying with his whole body, “Yes, I’ll marry you! Figured I should actually say it.”

Geralt laughed and cupped his cheek with one hand, “Thank you, I was getting a little nervous.”

Jaskier gave a hysterical giggle before sealing their lips together in a salty, messy kiss, “What the fuck are we gonna do with all these bananas?”

Geralt kissed his nose and held his best banana up, “First we have to take a picture for Yen and Triss. Then banana bread?”

They spent the rest of the night making seven massive loaves of banana bread. Well, Geralt baked banana bread. Jaskier clung to him in any way he could and followed him around the kitchen. 

When Geralt stood up from pulling the last loaf out of the oven Jaskier hugged him from behind, resting his head on his shoulder with his arms wrapped around his ribs, “Darling, since we’re getting mar-ried,” he put extra emphasis on ‘married’ and giggled, “you should know I really hate banana bread.” 

Geralt snorted, dropping the tin foil roll as he laughed and leaned back into his fiancé. 

“Hope that’s not a deal-breaker,” Jaskier giggled, pressing a kiss to Geralt’s cheek.

“I think we can work it out,” Geralt sighed, turning in Jaskier’s arms to kiss him again, only pulling away long enough to mutter a soft, “I love you,” before walking him backwards out of the kitchen and down the hall, lips still firmly and lovingly pressed together.

[pasiveagressive]

Quarantine // h.s.

This was a request! Hope you like it!

Warnings: Language, implications of adult activities

March 1st 2020

Today was the happiest day of your life. You married your best friend in the world, with your closest friends and family present. You thought the day Harry asked you to marry him was going to be your all time high, but you now realise that nothing would ever compare to saying I do. You got married in Harry’s hometown. A sort of destination wedding for you and your family and a local one for him and his. 

“Hey Mrs. Styles.” you feel his arms wrap around you. You are standing in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite. Wrapped in just a towel steam fogging up the mirror from the shower the two of you had just taken.

“Oh god Harry, I don’t know if I can go by that. That is what I called your mom when we first started dating. It just seems weird.” you laugh and lock eyes with him through the reflection.

“Well that’s too bad. When you agreed to marry me you agreed to become Mrs. Harry Styles, so that’s what I am calling you from now on.” He teases you kissing your neck at the same time. 

“Babe.” You whine

“Yes Mrs. Styles?” you shoot him a look “Maybe this will help. Mrs. Styles,” a kiss on your neck “Mrs Styles,” another this one a little higher, “Mrs Styles.” This time you grab him and put his lips on yours.

“Yeah definitely helping.” you sigh into him.

March 10 2020

You had just gotten back to LA from your honeymoon last night. Harry had gotten up early to go to some meetings about Love on Tour. So you are home alone. You have the TV on as you fold laundry from your trip. 

“Breaking news, the Covid-19 virus has spread and more countries are shutting down, banning all travel.” the news anchor explains. You stop and look at the TV. Watching as the report goes on explaining what's happening.

March 13 2020

“Breaking news, the Covid-19 virus has spread and the President of the United States has declared a state of emergency, issuing a stay at home order for all non essential personnel.” three days ago this had seemed a world away, here it was now on your front doorstep. You and Harry sit and watch the new anchor go into more details. After the report you turn off the TV. Harry has his arms around you but you lean in closer if possible.

“This is scary bub.” you say out loud, breaking the silence and speaking what is on both of your minds. Harry just nods his head and then smiles 

“Guess what though angel?” 

“What’s that bub?”

“It’s like our honeymoon has been extended.” you shake your head smiling.

“That is true I suppose.” you pretend to think about it “I don’t know though, I might not feel the same now that there is no sun, or sand, or ocean, or Mai Tai in my hand.” you tease

“Well the Mai Tai thing we can fix, but I am sure you won’t be saying any of that here in a minute.” he smirks picking you up and making you squeal.

April 27 2020

You and Harry were fighting. Again. It feels like the 20th time in the last week that the two of you had gone at it. He is stressed and you are stressed and you both are sick of being cooped up in the apartment, that honestly was a bit to small for the two of you but it originally only had to work for a few weeks before Love on Tour was supposed to kick off, and while he was away you were going to go house shopping. Obviously that hadn’t happened. The current pandemic caused everything to go wrong. 

“I just don’t understand why you would do that!” Harry yells 

“That is how I have always done it, before we were together, and since we’ve been together.” you retort with an equal volume. 

“Well maybe that’s our problem, maybe we shouldn’t be together.” well that was a new statement. Your eyes go wide. Harry’s do to the moment he realises what he said. “Angel-” He starts but you cut him off.

“Please don’t call me that right now.” You say almost in a whisper trying to hold back tears. “ I need some time alone.” You say walking to your bedroom. You shut the door and that is when you let the tears go. 

It's a little while later when there is a soft knock on the door. 

“Y/N?” you had stopped crying about an hour ago and are just trying to figure out what you want to say to him.  You walk over to the door and unlock it revealing Harry who looked as if he had been crying as well. You yourself are in one of his sweatshirts that is far too big for you but makes you feel as though he is hugging you. Stepping to the side you let him in. “Y/N.” He reaches out to hug you and you brush past him. 

“We need to talk.” you state, he nods.

“Angel you know I didn’t mean what I said.” He tests out the pet name and you allow it, so he continues. “I was upset over literally nothing that you have done, I was just taking my stress out on you which is 100% unfair of me.”

“Yes it is unfair to me. But Harry you can’t say things like that. Do you want to get divorced?” you question and he looks at you like you grew a second head. 

“Is that a joke? Absolutely not.” 

“Then you can never say something like that again. Unless you plan on getting a divorce-” 

“Never going to happen.” he cuts you off

“As I was saying unless you plan on getting a divorce we can’t say things like that to each other. Harry I literally felt like I couldn’t breathe and that you didn’t want me for a while.” tears start rolling again. This time when Harry reaches out to you, you let him hold you “I love you so much and to hear you say those words nearly broke me bub.” you feel something hit the top of your head and look up to see Harry crying as well.

“I am so sorry love. You are my everything and I never want to make you feel that way okay? I love you so very much.” He kisses your forehead and the two of you fall asleep like that.

July 1st 2020

“Hey there to the lovely couple!” Jimmy Fallon says as you sit in front of your computer. 

“Hi Jimmy.” 

“‘Ello Jimmy.” 

“How are the two of you doing? Staying healthy?” Jimmy asks and you let Harry answer

“Yeah we are.” Harry smiles and answers

“What have been your favorite things to do while stuck at home?” He asks this time you answer

“We have being doing a lot of cooking and baking and then a lot of working out to equalize all of the cooking and baking.” you answer with a laugh Harry nods his head agreeing with you

“Y/N has also really gotten into TikTok. She tries to get me to do them with her but I haven’t broken yet.” 

“Ah yes young people things.” Jimmy laughs and the two of you laugh with him “Y/N I have to ask, what was it like on that beach with your husband eroctically eating watermelon?” 

“Just that Jimmy eroctic.” Harry goes red as you and Jimmy laugh some more. 

“Okay honesty time you two, have things been completely smooth sailing at the styles’ household?”

“Oh god no.” you answer immediately

“Yeah no, but that's to be expected. We only saw each other for two months and then after that we were still seeing each other almost every single hour of every single day.” Harry expands on your answer

“Yeah, I love him with my whole heart but we had never spent time like that together and honestly if this hadn’t happened we may never have. I am almost glad for the pandemic in that sense, because I knew that I loved him but now I know him on a whole new level and I can say that I will never be able to love anyone the way that I love Harry Styles.” you look over at Harry and see that he has teared up “Oh come on Styles don’t go soft on me now.” you joke and kiss his cheek

“Okay I have one more question and it is mainly for you Y/N.”

“Alright, hit me.” you say

“What made you decide to change your name. A lot of celebrities keep their name when they get married but you decided not to, why?” you had been expecting this question

“It really came down to the fact that I want to have the same last name as my husband and our children someday to not wonder why mommy has a different last name than them, or why daddy had a different last name. The more we thought about it the more it made sense. If companies don’t want me to model for them simply because I don’t have the same name I did when I rose to fame, why should I be working with them at all.” Jimmy nods as if what you are saying makes sense

“Alright thank you for zooming with me today.” Jimmy says to you and Harry

“Thanks for having us Jimmy.” Harry says smiling and turns off the camera then he turns to you “Have I told you recently how much I adore you?” 

“It doesn’t hurt to hear it.” You smile at him

“Well I love you so much and I think you are the most amazing woman I have ever met.”

“Your not so bad yourself Mr. Styles.”

[seriouslycromulent]

Random thoughts on ZSJL after 1st viewing

So dear DCEU fans, before I sit down to re-watch Zack Snyder’s Justice League again tonight, I thought I’d share some of my first impressions and thoughts on the film. I really wanted to take part in the watch party yesterday, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to give the film my full attention if I did so, especially since it would be my first viewing.

But now that I know what was inside my birthday gift (my birthday was March 18th), I can chat about it with others and discuss to my heart’s content. 

However, this is NOT that post. This is not a review. It’s just some of my initial thoughts and reactions, which may or may not change after multiple viewings. 

And yes, I will mark this post as “ZSJL spoilers” for anyone trying to remain unspoiled until they get a chance to watch it at their own pace.

Here we go ...

Question #1 - Why does Barry only burn out of his shoes, but nothing else he’s wearing when he moves to save Iris? Is it the friction against the floor? Or is it just convenient for the sake of visuals? We know the suit he made is designed to withstand wind and heat resistance when he moves, so when he’s not wearing it, are his clothes in danger of getting shredded if he moves fast enough? 

This isn’t snark. I’m genuinely curious. :-)

Reaction #1 - I know it’s blasphemous to speak positively about the theatrical release, but I kind of miss the opening credit sequence with the song playing over the images and interactions of people arguing, fighting and falling into despair after Supes died. I felt it was an apt response in the world in the wake of his death, and it suited Zack’s overall tone connecting BvS to this film from the start. I’m not saying the new opening is bad. Just that I kind of liked the theatrical one better.

Question #2 - Now this is kinda snarky. But does Arthur just leave sweaters and shirts littered all over the place whenever he goes below the surface? What if there’s no one there to pick it up like that lady in Iceland? 

Reaction #2 - I’m love, love, loving the much bigger role of the Amazons in this version. That battle scene with Steppenwolf is still brutal to watch, but the extra screen time is much appreciated.

Reaction #3 - I’m now calling the arrow shot into the Shrine of the Amazons the “Hanukkah Arrow” because it was a miracle the fire stayed lit during its entire journey to the Shrine and how it stayed lit until a film crew caught it on the news. 

R#4 - Even though I knew Victor’s car accident was coming, I was still shook when it happened. Like, I genuinely screamed when the other vehicle crashed into them. That’s how emotionally invested I was in that scene at the time.

R#5 - I liked the juxtaposition of going from Victor’s dysfunctional relationship with his dad to Barry’s sweet, but heartbreaking relationship with his dad. Way to mess with our emotions, Zack.

R#6 - “gorilla sign language” Tee-hee!

R#7 - Great placement with the suicide prevention billboard. It was both seamless and poignant. 

R#8 - As a fellow tea drinker, I like that Alfred is particular about how tea is made, even when the cup of tea isn’t for himself.

R#9 - It’s interesting to see how jerky Victor’s movements are in Chapter 3. I know he will move more smoothly as the film progresses, but I feel like that growth and development in his movements were missed in the theatrical release, which is a shame because it’s a great mirror to his psychological development as well. 

R#10 - It’s a shame how easily Steppenwolf captured the 2nd box thanks to King Orm’s incompetence. Ugh. I can’t stand that guy. 

Question #3 - Why is Arthur responsible for retrieving the box that was lost on his brother’s watch? He’s not king yet, so why does it fall to him? Whatever. Orm sucks.

Question #4 - OK. So I know this was in theatrical release, but how is it that the other team members disappeared when Commissioner Gordon turned his back and Barry didn’t notice it happening? That technically should be impossible unless Barry was distracted by a squirrel or something.

Favorite Hell Yeah Moment #1 - Barry saving the kidnapped people from being hit by the falling debris outside after the team rescues them from Steppenwolf. Go Barry! Do that shit!!! You don’t need lessons on how to be a f*cking hero!

R#11 - So Barry did trip in the original script. Interesting. I still don’t like that. It’s in character for where he is right now on his journey, but I still don’t like it.

Question #5 - Architectural question for the design nerds out there. Why does Lois have a glass pane in her front door in an apartment building in a major metro area in the US? That’s an odd design. Is it a renovated office building? Was her apartment at one point the office of a private detective in a noir film? I need answers.

Favorite Hell Yeah Moment #2 - The J’onn J’onzz reveal is officially one of my biggest thrills of the entire DCEU franchise. Years ago, when people were speculating about who was the 7th in the phrase “Unite the 7,” I said it’s J’onn J’onzz, and fanboys corrected me and insisted it had to be Hal or at least one of the Lanterns. And I was like, “Nope. I bet you it’s J’onn. He could easily already be a part of the story and we don’t even know it.” This is the part where I say to you ... Called It! Like 6 years ago! I f*cking Called It!

R#12 - Yep, by Chapter 5, Victor is moving much more smoothly.

R#13 - Dude!!!!!! The “Not Impressed” moment was better than anything Supes ever did in the theatrical release. Anything. It was just so epic and smooth and smoothly epic. I’m accepting that scene as a part of my personal birthday gift. Zack did that for me. That’s why that’s in there.

R#14 - I know Barry got a couple of hero moments earlier in the film, but none of them compare to the actual reconstruction of f*cking time in order to save everyone. The way the ground literally formed under his feet as he ran had me holding my breath without me even realizing it. Thank you, Zack! Thank you for making Barry more than the comedy relief. Thank you for giving him this moment. He deserves this.

Favorite Hell Yeah Moment #3 - I know everyone is talking about how they cheered when the team goes charging into the building altogether (sans Supes). And don’t get me wrong. That moment is pretty f’cking sweet. But dude, my all-time favorite, jump-out-of-my-seat, and jump-up-and-down moment was when Arthur speared Steppenwolf from behind and lifted him up in the air. I was like ...

The fangirl in me was unashamed and unbossed. Arthur deserved that moment. He spent half the film being tossed around like a ragdoll or brooding like a hot stevedore. He deserved that shit! Yes, yes, he did.

Epilogue thoughts ---

Again, this is the longest film epilogue I’ve seen since LOTR: Return of the King, but I’m not hating, just noting.

The extra scenes with J’onn J’onzz and Deathstroke made my day after everything else made my night. They are 2 of my absolute favorite DC characters who were all but cut from the theatrical release. I’m taking those scenes as ... again ... my personal birthday gifts.

I know we may never get JL2 and JL3, but I felt like the cliffhanger was pretty good. It leaves you wanting more, but not feeling as if you’ve been left high and dry. For those who doubted Zack’s decision to keep it a cliffhanger knowing he may never get to finish the story, I say to you, “Aren’t you tired of doubting this man?”

[theodora3022]

Love You To Hell And Back(Yandere Claude)

Pairing: Yandere Claude Faustus x F!reader

Summary: Upon running away from home due to an unwanted arranged marriage, you took up a maid position in the Trancy household. You thought it would be simple, lay low for couple of months then the other family would cancel the engagement. Being a maid should be easy right? Just wash and clean the house and saying yes to their lords. You never thought you would end up in such a bizarre and dangerous household.

Notes: I am a Claude simp. If you do not know before, you do now. Do not get the wrong idea, Sebastien is handsome alright, but there is just something about those golden eyes makes me shiver in the best kind of way. (Also I love the French pronunciation of his name but whatever)

Word count:2k

Warning: Non-con touching, coercion, possessive behaviour, general Yandere content

SFW

As a lady on exile, you do not have many options. Your relatives were out of the question since they could inform your parents of your whereabouts, and so does all of your friends. Luckily, you figured out the perfect solution: disguises! And who is more unnoticeable then a maid? They blend naturally in the background of drawing rooms and parties, no one will bat an eye if there happen to be an extra one. Nobles do not care for servants, so a forged name and documents would get the job done. 

Answering advertisements seems to be a good way to start. Ah, there is one right here. The Trancy Estate? To your knowledge, there is only one young lord there, and you are not acquainted with the family. Seems the ideal choice: “Only for two months, as a replacement.” You know being a servant would be unpleasant, compare to your noble lady life now, but you had chosen between this instead marrying a man you despise.

Packing some essentials, you thrown on a simple cotton dress borrowed from your maids and sneaked out. You thought you had escaped from hell, not knowing you are better off staying. Because, you had quite literally, walked into a spider’s trap.

 A dark-skinned maid welcomed you, explaining how she has to leave the household for some personal business while giving you a small tour of the building. She seems nice enough, although you were curious why her right eye is covered by bandages. The manor is dead quiet and empty, giving you an illusion of how you can hear your own breathing.

“Miss Hannah, where are the other servants?” You shiver, tightening your clock just a bit. Although it is only autumn, the winds are chillier in this house, or so you felt.

“There is only five of us. Me, the triplets, and Sir Claude the butler. Our master can be...difficult, one could say.” Handing you a basket of maid attire, Hannah seem to be terrified of this master she speaks of.  

I wonder why he is so difficult. You thought as you thanked her and settled down in the little servant room you were given. Better put on these maid clothes soon, getting use to them as fast as possible. Blue and white does not look so bad together.

Kitchen duties are not so bad since all you need to do is chopping up vegetables and wash the dishes while the triplets took care of the cooking. Dusting is a nuisance, but with enough efforts it was taken care off. The triplets are an odd flock, as they never speak unless necessary. All your befriend attempts had failed miserably, you felt as if they look down on you somehow? Since you only do backstage work, you had yet to meet the master and his butler. Not that you mind, you want to kept your existence covert, after all!

You were trying to dust off the chandelier in the drawing room when you first met Claude. The stairs you use are a bit unstable, which causes you to have major anxieties about falling.

“Ahh!” You squeal as your staircase finally deciding to let you fall. Closing your eyes in horror, you were certain you are going to suffer at least bruises. But the expected pain never came. Instead, you felt a strong set of arms had caught your body mid-hair.

 Gazing up, what did you see?

Oh did that gorgeous face make this fall worth it. The tall man in black reminds you of those flawless Roman statues, of King David. You never thought humans can be this magnificent.(Well you are still right, as he is no human)

Gently placing you back on your feet, Claude started to examine you behind those clear glasses. You quickly smoothed the wrinkles on your skirt as you dip your head for greeting.

“Greetings, kind Sir. You must be Sir Claude. My pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am (y/n), the new maid.” Gods, he is handsome. You were not even sure words can describe how those golden eyes made you feel. Are you blushing? Ugh, get it together, self! He is only a butler here. It is beneath you to swoon over him. You put on a smile, then courtesies to the stoic man in the most elegant way possible.

The lack of callus on your fingers and your sophisticated manners informs him that you, are no ordinary maid. As a servant to his lord, Claude needs to make sure no sketchy individual can harm him. Some investigation would need to be done.

How interesting...Why would a high-born lady such as yourself ran away from your prestigious noble house, only to serve as a humble servant here? Just where did Hannah dig you up? Ah, that is no matter at present. Surely your cheerful spirts can light up the dull days of this mansion. The only thing Claude need to ensure is you do not expire as quickly as others. Alois can be such a spoiled brat; however no harm should befall to you as long as he can help it.

Your voice reminds the demon of little birds of forest mornings, chirping delightfully to a new day no matter how horrid the night before was. The way you thank him stuttering then trying to go back to your duties are just adorable, and amusing. It is clear as day:you are fascinated by Claude’s pretty face. Quite bold for a lady to do so. Claude had met a lot of people in his long life, but none of them intrigues him so as you do. He cannot grasp what exactly, but there must be something enchanting about you, that makes him want to pull you close and do unspeakable things to your good, pure body.  

Tender and cautious, that is what the knocks on his office door suggests. It is late, way past Alois’s bedtime. Who could have business with him this hour, apart from his demanding lord? “Come in.” Claude’s curiosity had spiked up.

It is you, still dressed and with a plate in your hands. What a pleasant surprise. And are those pastries?

“I...baked these for you, Sir. I want to thank you for your help earlier today.” Looking away, you quickly remind yourself how you should never indulge too much. However you had already spent two hours of your free time trying to bake something decent.

Did your parents taught you it is improper to visit a man’s quarters this late at night, alone? How rebellious of you, not that Claude minds anyway. You might appear to be demure and good at first sight, but under that nice façade is a bold maiden who does not care for modesty, how complex.

Chocolate chip biscuits, but with distorted shapes. “I am not very good at this, so I totally understand if you do not wish to eat them. I jus want to properly show my gratitude, that is all.” Nervously fidgeting your apron corner, you bit your lip when he raises one of them to his lips and took a small bite.

Edible, but has lots of room for improvement. Claude can practically taste your eagerness to please from the chocolate spheres. Seeing your gaze fixated on him, expecting his comments on your work, Claude let out a quiet laugh. Which made heat rush up to your cheeks. Is that a good or a bad response? It cannot be that terrible can it?

“Come.” He signals with a hand wave, and you hesitantly walked beside his chair. How cute, the butler and the little maid. It would be a shame to just give you some half-hearted praises and send you out, wouldn’t it? It is what a gentleman would do, of course. Claude on the other hand, has never been one. He could entertain that appearance for his lord’s sake, but in this little room with just you, there is no need for charades.

You were shocked when one gloved hand pulled you swiftly onto his lap, with the other locked around your waist, pressing you against his chest. Of course, you fantasized the idea of being the lover of such a fine specimen of mankind, but only the idea of it. Even though you are nothing more then a lowly maid now, you are still a lady of nobility with conducts of propriety.

Your shrinking pupils made Claude realize he might be pushing a bit too fast. But human lives are so fragile, so short compare to demon ones. If he does not seize this opportunity, who knows when is next one going to arrive? Whether it is your intention or not, Claude is now mesmerized with you. Now that he is holding you this close, breathing in your intoxicating sweet scent, the old demon had his first epiphany of a millennium: you are lovely, and he intends to keep you this way, one way or the other.

Squirming with protests, you tried to get out of his suffocating embrace. “Sir, this is not proper, please let go of me.” Yet you achieve no results, those iron grips still hold you firmly in place, those same arms that spared you an embarrassing fall this morning.

  “Little bird, finally thinking about propriety? You should know better then coming to my office this late unless you want something to happen.” Claude is close, too close, you can feel his breath fanning your ears gently. Gloved fingers trace down your jawline, making you tremble with fear. “Am I right, Lady (family name)?” You froze. What how did he-how do he know you are not a mere commoner? Had he already done a thorough investigation on you?

“Now, repeat after me, little bird.” His golden eyes shifted its color to pink, round pupils bending into a thin line. In normal circumstances, you would be terrified of how his features suddenly changed, but now you are too possessed by his intense gaze to think of anything else. Those eyes, you felt as if you could drown in those two magenta pools.

“I love Claude Faustus forever and I would do anything should he asks of me.”

“I-I love Claude Faustus f-forever...and I would do anything should....should he-e asks of me.” It is still your voice, although those words are defintely not your own. What is happening? Why do your tongue just moved on its own like man possessed?

“Perfect.” Running his bare fingers through your hair, Claude left a light kiss on your forehead, ignoring the horrid expression you are wearing. “You will behave, right little bird?”

“Of course, Sir Claude.” You did not just say that !There is no way. What has this evil man done to you? You never should have come here. Your terrible fiancée at least could not cast spells on you!

“I’ll take good care of you, my dearest little bird. After all, your fate is defined since the moment I lay my eyes on you. We are destined to be together.”

“Oh, do try to behave. It would be a shame if something should happen to your dear family. I would hate if you end up like your other human predecessors.” His lord, despite his young age, is a master at torture and inflicting suffering. There is a unfortunate reason why there is only a few servants in this manor, and the fact that they are durable demons too. Claude knows exactly where you would end up had he not intervened. Do not worry, he would never let you go. Demons mate for life, didn’t you know that? Why resist?

“I love you my dear, to the hell and back. We shall stay together until the end of time.”

[sierraraeck]

Daylight

Spencer x GN! Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: After a long time without answers and your relationship ending on rocky terms, you run into Spencer and can finally put things to rest. Part one.

The prompt from @veraiconcos Fic Writer Challenge was “If I asked you to stay, would you?” This is bolded within the fic.

Category: Angst. Just pure angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Mention of normal CM stuff. Suggestive content.

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This was initially a songfic and now it’s not, however it was still inspired by the song “Daylight” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct.

Internal dialogue

Flashback

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In one word, complicated.

Yes, that was a cliche and overused, but there was really no better way to describe your relationship with Spencer. Unless of course people preferred terms like arduous, intricate, convoluted, twisted, entangled, or your personal favorite, fucked up. Although, that might be a little harsh. Kind of. It was complicated.

And things continued on that path when you waltzed into the San Jose precinct, ready to defend your client against none other than the BAU.

Despite being 28, you were already one of the most successful defense attorneys in the state, and had already had a couple run-ins with the FBI. Luckily, none of those had been against the ‘all-powerful’ behavioral analysis unit, and you were able to wrangle out some wins, or at least, the best you could have hoped for given the circumstances. This time, a man, Brayden Lee, had been arrested as a suspect for a series of strangulations, all of the victims tall, blonde, college athletes. Looking over his case and the amount of evidence against him, you felt sure that you could manage a favorable deal.

But now, your strides faltered as you saw the team of profilers standing around in a circle, speaking in hushed voices, immediately turning around to watch you in. Well, it wasn’t necessarily them that teetered your confidence, it was more like him. And that damn hair.

You were at your older brother’s graduation. A small, skinny kid with moppy brown curls walked across the stage, the gown he was wearing clearly three sizes too big for him. He looked really young, about your age, which immediately interested you.

“Spencer Reid,” the announcer called. He accepted his diploma, moved his tassel from one side to the other, and plopped right back down in his seat.

You just stared at him from your place high up in the bleachers, almost missing your brother as he walked across the stage. You clapped and cheered, but you still couldn’t tear your eyes from the strange kid who’d walked across moments before him. When the ceremony was over, you asked your brother who he was, and all he gave you was a shrug and an arched eyebrow. That was not exactly the answer you were looking for. So you took it upon yourself, being the awkwardly brave kid you were at 12, to find him and learn more. You ended up taking him home after the ceremony, and that was that. You still remember the dopey smile he gave you as he hopped out of the backseat, a smile that you would miss for three more years.

You tried to compose yourself as you avoided eye contact with any of them, marching toward the interrogation room to have some time alone with your client. But it had never been this hard to concentrate before.

Snap out of it. It’s been four fucking years, six if you really think about it, so you need to get it together. This man, the one right in front of your face, needs your help.

So you did just that. As a lawyer, you had to have intense focus, so you made yourself hone in on that skill. The two older men of the team came in to have quite the nice chat with you and your client, but it ended fairly close to how you predicted. He would be let off, for now, but you would have to stay on call in case they found more evidence of your client’s guilt. You ushered Brayden out of the station and into a cab, telling him that you’d be in touch if anything else came up and to keep a low profile.

You were ready to be done, but had to make sure there weren’t any other loopholes or things they weren’t telling you before you could leave. You trudged back into the precinct, expecting to talk to the two men you saw earlier, but found that once-nerdy boy you used to know waiting for you. Not to say he wasn’t still nerdy, you were sure he was, but he’d definitely changed since the last time you saw him.

You tried to act as professional as possible, “Is there anything else that I need to know about this case and your evidence against my client?” Honestly, you were shocked at how calm your voice sounded.

“As long as you’ve heard about his recent purchases and easy access to the material used to strangle these women, no,” he responded, just as casually.

“Okay great, and nothing else in the profile I should be aware of?”

“Nope.”

“Alright then,” you said, turning on your heels to walk out.

“That’s it?” Spencer’s tone suddenly sounded confused, even accusatory, which was such a stark contrast to the smoothe, gentle voice you remembered.

You were at the local library studying for your midterms before the holiday break. No one really went there anymore, and there were a ton of good research tools available, so it was the perfect quiet study spot. Well, mostly quiet, that was, until the ever-so-irritating ping of books being checked out was going off non-stop. You’d had enough, so you shot over your shoulder, “Jesus, how many books do you need?”

The pinging immediately stopped, and you heard a small, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

It wasn’t a lot, but something about that voice seemed familiar. You turned fully around to see those piercing gold eyes staring at you, and you recognized those curls.

“No way. You’re the kid who graduated high school at age twelve! I remember you,” you blurted before really thinking.

“Yeah. Hey (y/n),” he said.

“I’m so sorry I snapped at you like that…”

“Spencer,” he filled in, after hearing you hiss like a snake, trying to jog your memory of his name.

“Spencer! Sorry about that, I’m just kinda stressed about my exams,” you explained.

“It’s okay, I understand,” Spencer replied, gesturing to his ever-growing pile of books.

You inquired about how things were going for him, and he told you all about how his first year and a half in college had been, already obtaining his bachelor’s in mathematics.

“That’s so impressive. Think you could help me?” you said in a somewhat mocking tone.

Of course, he took you seriously, not picking up on the half-joke. “Sure.”

Although, you were thrilled he offered, and the two of you spent the next couple of hours talking about high school and college classes, your seemingly easy math compared to his, and him helping you with any other subject you needed help with, like AP biology and psychology. At the end of the night, you gave him your phone number, trying to cover up your little crush with a joke about needing his help as you rushed out into the freezing night air.

He never used it.

“Yeah. That’s it,” you shot over your shoulder.

“(y/n), hold on, I-” he started.

“Doctor Reid, they need you in the conference room,” some lady said. Now that caught your attention. You spun back around to look at him with raised eyebrows. His mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes flitted between you and the lady who told him he was needed.

“What are you waiting for, Doctor,” you sneered. He let out a sigh, giving you one last pointed look before turning away. You didn’t even know people called him ‘doctor’ now.

You returned home, hoping that the case would get cleared up easily, that they’d find a different culprit and you wouldn’t have to risk that floodgate of emotions bursting open. No such luck. They found Brayden at the scene of the crime, literally in the middle of digging up an old victim to do god knows what with, and took him back into custody. When you got back to the precinct, you told your client not to say a word, and asked what the charges were and if he was going to be transferred in the meantime. The answers to your questions were not in your favor, and you had one of the worst client-lawyer conversations you'd ever experienced. The man wouldn’t tell you a damn thing, and if he didn’t tell you anything, then you couldn’t help him. Of course, it was your job to try and help him as best as you could, but you whole-heartedly believed he was guilty too, which didn’t help you keep the right mindset. Plus, your heart was pounding into your ears for more reasons than being across the table from a serial killer.

Focus, please, you begged yourself. And you did, for a while, but it became a futile effort. At one point you just wanted to say ‘fuck this shit, lock him up’ and leave, you were that desperate.

When it was all over and the station was getting everything together in order to transfer him to a holding facility, you tried to slip out the doors and wait outside. Only moments after, though, you heard the door squeak back open.

“(y/n),” Spencer started.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly interjected. You had been contemplating for the last day or so if you needed to apologize, and just figured you would, if not for your sake, for your clients’. I mean, they would probably end up testifying at some point, not like that was the main thought going through your mind, but you convinced yourself it was. “I shouldn’t have conducted myself like that earlier. It was unprofessional and you were just trying to talk to me.”

“It’s fine. I probably deserved it,” he acknowledged.

“Probably, but that’s all in the past and I should have left it there,” you concluded. You both stood in absolute silence until it became too much to bear. You decided you’d at least try to act natural, “So how have things been since the last time I saw you?”

Spencer looked at you with surprised eyes, but answered with, “They’ve been interesting. There always seems to be a new case. How about you?”

“Same. Just one after the other, but it’s nice knowing I’m helping people,” you added.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Come on, what else can you throw out there? “Uh, so, they call you ‘doctor’ now?”

He offered a small laugh. “Yeah, they do. When I started, you know, I was much younger than anyone else in the bureau-”

“Still are,” you interjected.

He continued, “-true, but one of my mentors, who’s gone now, told people to call me that and I guess it just stuck.”

“Well, it sounds nice.”

“Thanks. I hear you are doing pretty well yourself, getting national mentions and such,” he stated.

You raised your eyebrows, “You heard about that?” A year or so back you got recognized as the top rising talent in your field of work, but you didn’t think that news would make it to the other coast. Unless he was specifically looking for that information…

“Yeah, I did. The FBI likes to keep tabs on people that might cause them the most trouble in a case, you being one of them.”

“Seriously?” You were astonished. The FBI was keeping tabs on you? “Why?”

“Just in case they get tired of opposing you and would rather work with you,” he shrugged, “But you seem to be having fun opposing right now.”

You let a smile reach the surface at that. “That obvious, huh?”

“I’m a profiler. Plus, you’ve always had a thing for opposing the ‘overbearing’ power and sticking up for the little guy.”

That was a little too close to home. You knew he meant that in more ways than one, and you couldn’t help but think about that god-awful night when you were just two kids trying to take a walk in the moonlight. The night that solidified your friendship.

It happened so fast. All you did was walk away for a second to throw your trash away, but that was all it took for the boys to pounce. Spencer had been attending CalTech for three years, and you were there to pop into the chemistry class, which you conveniently had with Spencer. Those other 20 year olds hated you and Spencer for the sole reason that you were two nerdy 17 year olds that were making them look bad. They’d already gotten in a few good punches before you returned, but when you did, you were livid. They were holding Spencer up while taking turns at him. You worked quickly, setting your phone to record before stepping in between one of the boys and Spencer. You hadn’t intended on getting caught in the crossfire, but you did, landing yourself a pretty bruise on your cheek for the next two weeks. You yelled at them about how they were assaulting a minor and how you now had all of their faces on tape, along with some other legal shit. One of them smashed your phone and went for another punch, but you kicked him in the throat before he could get to you, putting him flat on his ass. He tapped out, and you later found out he’d gotten whiplash from how he landed on the ground. They ran off, and when you turned around, Spencer collapsed in your arms. He was littered with cuts, blood, and already developing bruises. You took him back to his dorm and cleaned him up, spending the night before figuring out how to recover the footage. Once you did, you showed it to the board members, effectively expelling the boys and bringing them up on charges for assault. They got convicted, and no one screwed with either of you again. That was the moment you really decided to become a lawyer.

“Yeah, I guess I have,” you murmured. Brayden was brought out in cuffs and shoved into the back of a squad car, which was your cue to get moving. You had a full case on your hands.

You turned to leave, but as you did, Spencer stopped you. “Hey, would you maybe want to catch up later?”

You didn’t remember him ever being so bold before, and were caught off guard by the question. You stumbled out, “Uh, what did you have in mind?”

“Just … coffee, maybe?”

“Sure,” you said, and immediately saw Spencer’s shoulders relax. “Do you still remember where Arnette’s is?”

“Of course,” he responded. That used to be your favorite go-to spot.

“Alright then. I should be done with this at around eight,” you said, hopping into your car before he could respond. The officer with Brayden had already sped away, and you needed to stay close behind.

The whole drive you kicked yourself for saying yes. You were getting over him. You had gotten over him. And you loved Jordan and couldn’t help feeling like this was somehow betraying him. Plus, why should you be meeting him to catch up? He hadn’t been interested in that for five years! I mean, you put everything into making your relationship work. Sure, you were realistic that it wouldn’t last, but he could have at least tried.

You had it planned out. You would keep in touch until you could go out and visit him during the summer for Fourth of July during your sophomore year of college. The next year, he’d visit you, and the one after that, you’d visit him and so on. But that was the problem. There was no ‘so on.’ You visited him for the second time and that was it. And pretty soon, you could barely get him to pick up the damn phone. The last thing you heard from him was that he was pretty busy starting out with the BAU, along with an unanswered text wondering how his first case went.

But, you already agreed, so you might as well just see what happens.

You threw on some nice, non-work clothes and drove to the little shop on the corner. God you felt like a teenager.

It was just before eight and Spencer was already there waiting for you. Of course he was.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that this was supposed to be two people who used to care about each other, and honestly still do, just catching up. Simply talking. About the present, no need to worry about the past.

“Hey, (y/n).” You always liked the way he said your name with welcoming confidence.

“Hey,” you replied. He opened the door for you and you shuffled in. With no surprise, you were the only two in there, and he went ahead and ordered for both of you, remembering what you wanted with ease. You gave him a bit of a confused look as you waited for your drinks.

“What?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable by your staring.

“Nothing, it’s just that you remember my order, that’s all.”

“I do have a really good memory,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, but you also told me once that that only went for visuals, and your eidetic memory didn’t really work on audio,” you quipped.

“That’s true. I guess some things just stick. Plus, it’s not like you made it hard on me. You always ordered the same thing.”

You laughed a little, “I guess that’s true.”

You grabbed your drinks and left the hole-in-the-wall, autopilot kicking in, taking you both along the path that went around the park. Spencer sighed.

“Hm?” you questioned.

“Just, you know, thinking,” he said, brows furrowed.

“About what?”

“How we used to do this all the time. You’d finish your high school classes, drive over to CalTech for chemistry, and then afterward we’d stop by for coffee and a walk,” his voice sounded like he was in a dream, and he looked into the night air as if there was some answer or memory floating around out there. You guessed there was a memory floating around out here.

“Yeah those were crazy years,” you recalled. “I felt like I was constantly on the move and everything was happening all at once and I had all of this stuff I needed to get done. But this was always a nice place where I could clear my head and forget all of that.” That feeling was starting to return as you kept walking, the sticky air of California clinging to your skin.

“It was nice. I miss those days sometimes,” he said.

What is he getting at? “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

You walked in silence for a while, but you could see Spencer’s posture tense up more with each step. There was something on his mind and he wasn’t telling you.

“What is it?”

“What is what?” he acted bewildered.

“What’s on your mind?” He tried to shrug it off and deny it, but you knew him better than that. It might have been a while, but some things, like he said, just stick. And the way his body acted when he was thinking was one of them. “Don’t even try that. I know when there is something bothering you, now out with it.”

“Who is it?” That was all he offered and it was your turn to be confused.

“Huh?”

“Who has the other one?” he said, voice a bit harsher than before, motioning to the gold ring around your finger.

“His name is Jordan.”

“Jordan, huh?”

“Yep.”

“What does he do?” Spencer inquired.

“He’s also a lawyer. We actually met in law school,” you answered somewhat hesitant. You still didn’t know what he was getting at, if anything.

“Oh. Nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” your attitude starting to flare up.

“Absolutely nothing. Just not what I thought,” he stated with a bit of an edge to his voice.

“What did you think?” You were trying not to get offended by whatever he was implying, but you couldn’t help it. He asks me to catch up just to make passive aggressive criticisms?

“I don’t know. Not that, I guess.”

At this point, you wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. “Well, you know, you could have changed that,” you replied in the same passive aggressive manner.

“What would you have wanted me to do?” his voice was raising, obviously picking up on what you were putting down.

“Uh, I don’t know, how about respond to one goddamned text?”

“I tried.”

“Not really. And then you just went dark,” you spat.

“You seemed to be fine with that. You moved on pretty quickly,” he hissed, not even bothering to look at you.

“Why do you think that is, genius? I visited you, and then you stopped answering my calls. You stopped responding to my texts. I basically never heard from you again, and then the next thing I know, your showing up on my fucking tv, in California for a case, and you don’t even reach out. You didn’t even ask to meet up anywhere, not even stop by to say hey. Nothing. You did nothing once your job swallowed you up whole. I know what that’s like and it’s hard, believe me, I’m a lawyer for Chrissake, but I found the time. Plus, for all I knew, you had already found someone else, so I wasn’t going to wait around for the guy who seemed to love me much less than I loved him.” By the end, you were yelling, and thanking the stars above you that no one was around to hear it.

“You’re right,” he whispered after a while.

You were stunned, and could only manage a small, “What?”

“You’re right,” he repeated. “I should have put in more effort. I don’t know, (y/n), I wish I had a better answer for you but I don’t. I was young, and stupid, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I let my insecurities get in the way of us, and I will never be able to forgive myself for that.”

“What?” It was seriously the only thing going through your mind, however, you were able to force out, “Insecurities?”

“Yeah. I was worried that because I was away, you were going to tire of me, that you weren’t going to want to stay in a relationship. I thought that maybe, by being ‘tied’ to me, so to speak, that I was holding you back, which we promised each other we would never do. We said that we would never get in the way of the other’s dream, and I wondered if maybe I was going to do that to you. I just … I had all of these doubts, so I panicked. I stopped responding. And I was so wrong to do that.”

Now that he’d said them, they sounded like some of the same doubts he expressed to you the night before he left.

“What time is your flight?”

“Seven, which means I have to be there by six, which means I have to be leaving here by four-thirty at the latest,” he recited. He had all of his stuff piled by the door, which was hardly anything at all. You were in his hotel room because his house was soon to be taken over by a young couple, since he’d be living in Massachusetts, and his mother was in a mental facility. You’d just come back from visiting her, which left Spencer in tears.

You ate dinner while playing chess, which he effectively beat you at. You were actually pretty good at it, but no match for his math-based brain. You snuggled into bed next to him, willing yourself to keep it together because the last thing you wanted to do was spend your last night with him an emotional wreck. He queued up a movie, but neither of you paid any attention to it. His arm was draped around your shoulders and yours were clasped around his waist.

Spencer’s hand lazily circled your back until it moved with purpose down to your thigh. He continued his lazy patterns when you looked up at him, a question in your eyes.

You’d been with Spencer for over a year, and recalled your first time. You were ready before he was, which came as no surprise, but that didn’t stop the nerves from racing through your head. But if you thought you were nervous, you had no idea what was going through Spencer’s head. He later told you that he was absolutely terrified because he didn’t want to do something wrong, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and he didn’t want you to think less of him because of his body style, and a million other things that he was scared about. That’s how you accidentally said the ‘L’ word. “Spencer Reid, I would never judge you and you could never scare me away. I love you and your body and your brain, and you are not going to do something wrong, not like I’d know because we are both new to this and are doing it together. Understand?”

He gave you a shy smile. “I do.”

Now though, it was very different. Comfortable, confident, safe.

“Can I have you?” he asked, “All of you, one last time?”

You leaned up to kiss him, and he sighed when you pulled away. You looked him straight in the eyes, “I’m all yours.”

And you were. You felt like you always had been and probably always would be, and could only hope that he felt a fraction of the same. Your bodies pushed and pulled in perfect unison, fitting together as if you were two pieces of a puzzle, specifically crafted for the other.

You returned to your curled up position beside him, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears silently flowed out of your eyes, but you couldn’t make yourself peel your arms away from him long enough to wipe them away. You attempted to sob without making a sound, knowing that if Spencer saw you crying, it would make him cry, and he couldn’t cry because it would make you cry more, splitting you right in half. It didn’t matter how quiet you were being about it, because when you looked up at Spencer, you saw the same silent tears glistening on his cheeks. It was only then that you pulled your hands from around him and brushed away his tears.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down,” you apologized. “This is supposed to be exciting. You’re going to the best school in the country to get your PhD.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, moving his hands up and down your arms, “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m making the right decision.”

This took you by surprise. He’d always seemed confident about this, passionate about furthering his education. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t want to complicate things for anyone. For my mother. For you.”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” You knew it was unfair, but it was the only thing you could think to say. The only thing you wanted to say. You needed him, and it was sickening wondering if soon, he might not need you. He stared at you dumbfoundedly, so you quickly covered it up with, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. You are about to start a whole new part of your life, and you should go, pursue your dreams with the best education this country can offer. I don’t wanna get in the way of that.”

You repositioned yourself back on his chest, and started to drift off to sleep when you felt him sigh. You lazily peered up at him, meeting his restless eyes. “Spence, you need to sleep.”

“I can sleep on the plane. I need this more,” he said, smiling at you. You tried to stay awake like you knew Spencer would, but to no avail. You did, however, wake up to him getting ready to leave. He kissed you goodbye, and you held yourself together until he’d walked out, the door shutting with a definite ‘click.’

All the air had been stripped from your lungs and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you’d never again without him by your side. You cried yourself back to sleep, willing this all to be one giant nightmare, but when you woke, he was gone. And you felt completely numb. So while you may have been two pieces of a puzzle, aiming to create the same beautiful picture, you no longer fit together.

You felt yourself starting to get flushed from constantly going in and out of anger then feeling bad and forgiving. It was exhausting, and probably part of the reason things didn’t work out between the two of you. That didn’t mean you loved him any less, though. He was, in fact, your first love, and you guess people were right about that stuff being more powerful and affecting you longer. Hell, you walked into the precinct for a total of three seconds before he was affecting you all over again!

You took a deep breath in before saying, “I guess we both made mistakes and wished we would have handled things differently.”

“What would you have handled differently?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“When I saw that you were in California for a case, instead of … doing what I did, I should have been the one who reached out. I could have just asked you then what was going through your mind and what was going on between us. Who knows how that might have changed things? But, I was petty,” you gave a cold laugh, “I guess I still am sometimes, huh?”

You had definitely been acting that way lately. You felt guilty and ashamed about it, but in that moment of anger four years ago, knowing that Spencer was out there ignoring you, you sent him a hurtful message and then blocked his number. Only a week or so prior, you’d met Jordan who was clearly hitting on you, and you were so firm about moving on that you asked him out. He eagerly agreed, and the rest was history. Or, at least, you thought was history.

Spencer shrugged and dodged the somewhat rhetorical question. “We can’t really dwell on that now.”

You knew he didn’t really mean that, considering he was the type of person who dwelled, but he was right. You were engaged to a great guy and soon to be married. This, Spencer, was something you were just going to have to come to terms with, something you realized you hadn’t come to terms with yet.

You’d been walking so absentmindedly next to him that you hardly noticed you were outside of a hotel. He stopped just outside the lobby entrance and turned to face you.

“Walk you to your room?” you offered. What the fuck did you just say? Why did you say that? You can’t say things like that. Stop it.

Spencer gave you that small, closed lip smile of his which immediately ended your inner scolding, and nodded, holding the door open for you. You walked up the stairs together in silence. When you reached his door, instead of getting out his card, he leaned his back up against the heavy wood.

“Alright, well, it was nice catching up, and I wish you safe travels in the morning,” you said, turning to leave. He quickly reached out and grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks, and you spun around to face him.

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” Those words pierced through your ears, ringing all too familiar from when it was you who said them.

“Spence-” you started. And then his lips were on yours. Those sweet, soft lips. It had always been so natural between the two of you, and you felt his tongue bypass yours as you pushed further into the kiss. Then you remembered where, and when, you were, no longer that hopelessly devoted kid but an adult with a wonderful man waiting for you when you got home. You pulled away. “Spence-”

“I would have said yes, you know,” he confessed. The question must have been etched on your face, because he continued, “When you asked me that night, given the chance, I would have said yes.”

His words stung, and your whole body ached from rehashing old feelings, to igniting new ones, to the guilt of what just happened weighing on you so heavily you might just crumble beneath it. You murmured out, “Why didn’t you?”

“I thought you were right. I thought I was doing the right thing. Out of all the mistakes I’ve made, all the regrets I have, you, (y/n) (y/l/n), are my biggest one.” His honey brown eyes peered right into yours, like he was looking at something far greater than just your eyes, and repeated, “So right now, if I asked you to stay with me, would you?”

It was too much to handle. After all the time you’d spent wishing he was still yours, he finally could be, but you could no longer be his. Tears were streaming down your face as they once did, the first time you lost him, and you choked out, “I can’t.”

One More Night

Taglist (open)

@justanothetfangirl

@kris-stuff

@wooya1224

[kaqeyamas]

♡ —  folklore plots.

okay so, i just wanted to take a moment to make sure it’s known that these plots aren’t direct interpretations of the songs on taylor’s new album. they’re just ideas that i came up with based on little pieces of each song, or while listening to it!

The 1

give me a plot where muse a & muse b are exes. their relationship was actually pretty decent, despite muse b never showing enough attention or affection, hence why even after a year or two of being separated, muse a is still hung up on the other, and kind of searching for them in every new relationship and behind every corner. they were convinced they were the one, and seeing them again certainly hasn’t made that feeling go away at all??

Cardigan 

“but i know you, dancing in your levi’s, drunk under a streetlight” and i’m just picturing this pair of friends who have always kind of gotten into trouble, who were absolutely the type in high school to sneak out to get drunk and wander around town together, whether it lead to drunkenly adventuring the sidewalks of random streets in town, drinking and dancing along the way, or finding themselves at the local lake with half a bottle as they talk about everything and anything under the moon. they were literally like... night owls and that’s when their friendship really existed?? and maybe as adults, they haven’t seen each other in ages and when they do all of these old memories come back like “wow i was never that happy with anyone else??”

The Last Great American Dynasty 

toxic toxic toxic. these two bring out the absolute worst in one another, but one thing is certain -- the only way they were ever going to escape was if one of them died. muse a comes from money, and lives as such. expensive drinks, and infidelity. muse b is made into a monster in the town’s eyes, because they know of their partner’s cheating and they’re rightfully angry and upset, but they stick it out, because the money is too good to pass up on. it’s messy, and they’re constantly fighting, but when things are good? they’re so good. almost good enough to forget the bad. 

Exile 

muse a was growing restless in a relationship that felt like it was going nowhere, and muse b was oblivious to it, until it was too late. now muse a has a new partner, and muse b can’t stand it. but neither of them can truly shake the idea that they’re meant to be together -- muse b just needs to do something about it.

My Tears Ricochet 

i’m just not writing this one out because i honestly can’t think of anything that’s not super toxic, and that’s not my cup of tea. (TLGAD already is pushing it; sorry y’all!)

Mirrorball 

muse a has never truly felt like they fit in anywhere, until muse b shows up. they aren’t exactly sure what it is about them, but just being around them makes muse a want to be somebody completely new. whoever muse b would be interested in. making jokes to get noticed. wearing flashy outfits to keep their attention. but, at the end of the day, muse b thinks they’re perfect just as they are. this has super soft vibes and i’ll accept nothing less. 

Seven 

picture this -- they’re seven years old, and next door neighbors. fighting off monsters and building forts in their living rooms. their parents think they’re going to end up getting married when they’re older, and that probably would have been true, if muse b hadn’t switched schools senior year. fast forward ten years, and they run into muse a in their home town and every good memory comes flooding back because best friend love never dies.

August 

this is nothing more than a summer fling. (or is it??) muse a and muse b get to spend three months together, wrapped in the sheets and enjoying the sunshine together. making memories and ignoring the reality that they couldn’t last once the season ended (maybe one of them had to go back home in august) but they made those three months count in every moment. smiles and love songs and fall came in and stole it all away. (make it angstier by saying this fling only happened because muse b had broken up with their significant other before the fling started but by august, they want them back, leaving muse a heartbroken)

This is Me Trying 

muse a and muse b were head over heels. madly in love, and destined for it all. the big house, the happy family, wedding bells and all. until one drunken night, muse b makes the mistake of cheating on their partner. but they know they fucked up, and they’re not about to let the worst mistake they’ve ever made ruin the best thing in their life. they won’t go down without a fight, and if it takes apologizing for the rest of their life, they’d do it, just to get muse a back. lots of angst, and super sad. honestly?? i want this to make me cry.

Illicit Affairs 

make my whole life and give me a cheating plot. but not the kind of cheating plot that’s built on toxicity and mindless decisions!!! muse a is married and unhappy with somebody that doesn’t treat them right. maybe it’s abusive, maybe it’s just empty and the passion isn’t there? cue muse b, who lives down the street and has always made a point to wave and smile when they spot muse a outside, and their friendship builds to the point of sleeping together on accident. but it’s not a one time thing, or meaningless. they fall into bed because when they’re together, it’s the first time muse a has felt alive in ages, and suddenly they’re in a whirlwind romance, sneaking around to hook up and share little moments together. muse a feels guilty and shameful, muse b hates putting them in this position but is too attached to stop, and they both know that muse a’s marriage is going to implode if they get caught. -- but that’s not enough for them to give up. (make it interesting -- let them get caught?? END THE MARRIAGE!! give me angst.)

Invisible String 

you guessed it. this is a soul mates plot, and i’m not even sorry. muse a and muse b have never truly met, but their lives have always overlapped. whether it’s crossing one another in the grocery store, or sitting in a resturant at the tables that face one another. sitting in the same movie theater on opposite ends, or accidentally getting one another’s coffee at the local starbucks. after too many run ins, it’s impossible to ignore the similarities and the coincidences, and they decide to spend an evening together, getting to know one another -- and to nobody’s surprise -- they’re a perfect fit. muse a gets all of muse b’s jokes, and muse b likes all of muse a’s “flaws” and they’re just as dopey and gross as you’re probably imagining. 

Mad Woman

i’m not writing this one either.

Epiphany 

this one could go either way, and it’s entirely up to you and what fits your characters/what you feel most comfortable writing! muse a is either a soldier, or a healthcare worker. either way, they’ve both been through a lot, and seen more loss than any person should. but in a seemingly bleak world, muse b exists. the reason muse a works so hard. whether it’s somebody to come home from, after being overseas (if muse a is in the army!) or squeezing in time between doubles after a four car pile up came into the hospital (if muse a is a healthcare worker!), muse b is there to hold them, and remind them that there are good things left in the world and they’re just so healthy. 

Betty 

i’m just here to hurt myself at this point, but !!! give me a couple that everyone thought would make it. years together, and completely wrapped up in one another. they’ve been dating since high school, and now they’re about to enter their last year of college. muse a went back home for the summer, while muse b stayed at their apartment near campus. they stayed in touch, but as the summer progressed, muse b heard from muse a less and less, only to find out that muse a had spent the summer with somebody back home. when muse a finds out, they end things, but immediately regret it -- even if they won’t admit it. they’re just praying that muse b will come to their senses and come back. meanwhile, muse b is just trying to find the courage to face them, knowing that they only made this mistake because they were young, and thought they were bored of the “same old thing” even though it turns out nothing could ever compare to muse a. suddenly they’re at muse a’s front door in the middle of the night, knowing and hoping that they’ll get the love of their life back. (will muse b actually accept, despite how much they miss them? or will they slam the door?? will it be awkward if they get back together? will the trust ever come back??)

Peace 

muse a has always struggled with money, but when they fell in love with muse b, they swore they’d do whatever they could to provide the best life for them. but words don’t pay the bills. no matter how hard they work, it feels like they’re always struggling to keep their heads above the water. while the late fees build up, however, there’s no denying that their relationship is based on the purest love. the kind of love that leaves a person speechless. muse a would do anything for muse b, and vice versa. muse a constantly feels as though the other deserves better, because they want to give them more. give them everything, and they just can’t. but they don’t realize that for muse b, their love is enough. 

Hoax 

alright, so... this one’s not healthy. but, i’m writing it anyways because i’m in love with this idea?? SO muse a and muse b have been on and off for years. they’re always finding ways to hurt each other, whether it’s flashing their newest fling in the other’s face during the breaks, or picking fights for fun when they’re still together. when it’s bad, it’s so bad. but when it’s good, it’s so good, in ways that only make sense to one another, because no matter how many people they sleep with or relationships they break, they always find their way back to one another, convinced that there’s not a single person that understands them the way they do. they’d rather be angry and fight than be without one another. no matter how many times they call it quits, their hearts belong to each other and nobody can even begin to compare. make this more interesting by developing growth!! make them realize it’s not healthy! make them realize what they want, and that they have to work to have it! sacrifices and affection! real love! not just passionate sex and pillow talk secrets. not just years of history, but the effort to make it work because wasting times on their silly game just isn’t working anymore!

[nolongerwrites]

Lemme just repost this because my dumbass deleted it by accident a couple of weeks ago 💀

I know the lyrics are misplaced I’m too lazy to fix it rn

How to disappear

“Cuts on his face 'cause he fought too hard”

“I know he's in over his head”

“But I love that man like nobody can”

“He moves mountains and pounds them to ground again”

“I watched the guys getting high as they fight For the things that they hold dear”

“To forget the things they fearThis is how to disappear...”

It had been almost 4-5 years since you’d last seen him. Last you’d Seen the way he’d smile at you when you would walk in the room. The way you would wrap your arms around him from behind when you thought he least expected it, the way you’d cuddle up against him at night like it was the only way you could sleep, the addictive kisses you’d share when no one was watching.

Dazai and you were inseparable. Everyone in the port mafia knew you two were basically connected at the hip. They would talk about the way you two would sneak off and do god knows what when you were supposed to be working. But that was a long time ago. When he disappeared leaving only a note on what had happened and why he needed to leave, it felt as if your whole heart had been torn up to pieces and set on fire.

You were mad. Upset. Confused. Why didn’t he take you with him? Had everything you’d done together and the time spent with each other meant nothing?

You knew odasaku was his best friend but weren’t you also? It may have been selfish of you to think that way but After Dazai’s disappearance you fell into a deep state of depression. You became a completely different person from the way you carried yourself to the lack of sympathy for others. Everyone in the mafia stood clear of you even on assignments and in the halls of the mafias headquarters.

You killed without a second thought unlike before and It didn’t matter who it was you were interrogating, if they didn’t speak up the first time you tortured them until they spilt the info you were looking for only for you to kill them off brutally.

You had become one of the most dangerous and ruthless executives the mafia had, even chuuya wouldn’t try and mess with you.

“Cry on his shoulder 'cause life is hard”

“The waves came in over my head”

“What you been up to, my baby?”

“I haven't seen you 'round here lately “

Fast forward those painful years and here you were now, On your way to inspect a wear house down at the port that supposedly had some suspicious looking figures lurking around it.

Mori had assigned you to just take a look at take out anyone who didn’t look like his men. But

halfway there, as you were driving in one of the cars belonging to the mafia, you had gotten a call from chuuya.

You picked up your phone and answered it hoping it was just another assignment so you could go home and sleep. You were awfully exhausted.

“What’s up” you stated blankly as you turned a corner. “You might wanna come back. Mori specifically asked for you..” chuuya sounded like he was nervous to talk to you. More than normal. “I’m already half way there can’t he wait-“ you were cut off as chuuya called your name sternly.

“ we have a prisoner that needs to be interrogated, a former mafia member..” there was a pause on your end that racked his nerves to the core, yet he continued on.

“... you can probably take a guess who it is...” the car had stopped before he could even finish that sentence. Your grip on the steering wheel was insanely tight, you were surprised you hadn’t broke it already. Blank clouded eyes stared on into the empty road in front of you and as a few minutes past, you could hear chuuya clear his throat which prompted to snap you out of your daze.

“I’ll be right there.” Was all you said as you hung up and turned your car around. Something inside you said you knew exactly who it was

“All of the guys tell me lies, but you don't”

“You just crack another beer”

“And pretend that you're still here”

“This is how to disappear”

Your footsteps echoed through the hall with every slow step you took. You were full of every kind of emotion you could possibly feel. Your ability felt like it was going to erupt like a bird set free from its cage. With every new step you took, your body was telling you to go back. You wouldn’t be able to handle it. But this was the job you’ve devoted yourself to, and you weren’t going to back out now. Chuuya had warned everyone in the building before you got there so the halls were practically empty.

They’d heard the rumors about you and they didn’t dare cross your path in a situation like this. Before you knew it you were in front of the door to the dark, empty brick room used to interrogate.

You took a deep breath a few times in an attempt to calm the beast inside you. You counted to three before slowly opening the door to the room..Dazai stood there chained to the wall by his wrists, waiting for someone to walk in. Of course being dazai, he was singing some song about a double suicide. It had been a while since anyone had come down here. Worst case scenario, that short asshole Chuuya would come down and maybe give him a punch or two (or more likely try and kill him).

What he didn’t expect however, was to see your silhouette standing at the top of the stairs. The second he saw you standing there, in your black, ankle long skirt and grey ruffled blouse that slid off your shoulders exposing the skin of your collar bones and neck which was covered in black cloth like a choker, dazai felt his whole body freeze.

“This is how to disappear”

His eyes were wide with shock as you stepped foot by foot down the stairs. The black heels you were wearing clicked and echoed through the musty room. Before he knew it you were only about 3 feet in front of him.

You never lost eye contact with dazai even as you stopped directly in front of him. Nothing was said. The silence was deafening. It wasn’t until he let out a shaky breath and looked to the floor, that his smile from before returned. When he looked back up to you he could see the pain and mixed emotions behind those empty eyes.

The same eyes that would look at him lovingly the nights the both of them spent in his bed together. The same eyes that told him countless times that they’d loved him more than words could describe. The same eyes that had touched his heart like no other person could. It hurt him to see that they were so empty and clouded now. A distant gaze that would have him dead if looks could kill.

“Its been a while hasn’t it? You’ve gotten taller..” but before he could continue on about the things that had changed about you, His cheek felt like it was on fire. You were standing directly in front of him in a split second, hand colliding with his face as dark purple serpent created of smoke and poison manifested behind you standing almost 12 feet tall.

but it only stood there unmoving no matter how many times you commanded it to attack. Your hand colliding with his cheek again in a fit of rage.

Before he could even react, your knee reached his abdomen in a striking kick to the gut. Hit after hit, you kept going until you could no longer hold onto the pure raw emotion that was going through your head. And for the first time in years, Your grunting turned into sobs, and sobs into screams.

You hit him until your last punch was nothing more that a slight push. You felt weak. Tears had been streaming down onto your shirt and they wouldn’t stop. Dazai spit some blood on the floor before turning his gaze to you again. You were facing the floor as your body shook and trembled with every sob that wracked through you.

“‘it’s been a while’? ‘ITS BEEN A WHILE’??! Really dazai?! That’s ALL you have to say? After what you put me through after you left!? After everything we did?? That’s all you have to say..?!?”.

Dazais heart felt like it was shattering. When you looked back up to him he saw your puffy red eyes and face. The pain from your assaults were nothing compared to the look you were giving him as salty tears rolled down your cheeks. He said nothing.

Even as the blood from his head dripped onto the floor between you both. In almost a second, the chains and cuffed that kept him against the wall were broken and before you knew what had happened he enveloped you in what was literally was a bone crushing embrace.

You screamed and hit at him in an attempt to push him off you which only made him hold onto you tighter. The serpent faded away with his touch and disappeared into the air. You eventually stopped hitting him as your knees felt too weak to hold your body up.

You both dropped to the floor. Dazai did not once letting his grip slack, even as he carried all your weight. He buried his face into your hair as he rocked you back and forth with each cry you let out.

It wasn’t until you slowly put your hands on his back did you feel his own tears fall onto your shoulder. “I’m so sorry... I’m so so sorry...” dazais voice was barely a whisper in your ear. “I loved you so much dazai... I loved you more than anything... why didn’t you take me with you...?” you gripped his coat as you continued to cry in his arms.

“I’m sorry...”

“The California sun and the movie stars”

“I watched the skies getting light as I write As I think about those years”

“As I whisper in your ear”

“I'm always going to be right here”

“No one's going anywhere..”

[star-spangledstud]

Like You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x (Female) Reader.

Word Count: 2800-ish.

Summary: Steve has a really shitty way of saying goodbye. 

A/N: My friend sent me the prompt: “If I knew then what I know now.”. I decided to play around with it and then this happened. 

Warnings: Angst at its finest. Such brief mentions of sex you hardly notice them. Heartbreak. 

You didn’t understand why he didn’t come back to you like he was supposed to. 

It wasn’t like the two of you didn’t have a solid relationship. You complemented each other when you walked into the room, the perfect blend of two different people that had come together as one. You hardly argued, barely even disagreed on matters that concerned the both of you and you never got sick of each other’s company. You were complete, whole when you were with him and he was with you. 

You ate together, trained together, slept together in the same bed night after night. Even as the world burned after the big Snap, you stayed together, thankful every day for the fact that the both of you had made it out alive. You mourned the loss of friends together, tried to overcome the holes in your hearts together. It was an obstacle in the road that paved the way for your lives and you faced it together. When everyone was brought back, you couldn’t have been more grateful, because five years of learning how to rebuild everything had made the two of you stronger, more aware of how much you needed each other to survive. Most importantly, it made you aware of how all you needed to survive was each other. 

A power couple, that’s what they called you. Sun and moon, yin and yang. The perfect balance of work and play, of fun and professionalism. You kept each other moving, kept one another going with words of encouragement and wisdom, forced each other out of bed after half the world had literally vanished in the blink of an eye. It hadn’t been easy, but you expected the strain on your relationship to have been much worse. You got off easy compared to many other people. 

When the two of you first caught wind of the possibility to bring everybody back, of course, you jumped on the bandwagon. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, a chance to see your best friends again, for things to go back to the way they were. You knew it would be hard because people had moved on, started new relationships, new careers and had moved house, but you had faith that humanity could overcome it.

You still got chills when you thought of the orange portals that signaled everyone’s return. The distant memory of seeing the people you thought you’d never see again in the flesh for the first time in five years still brought prickly tears to the corners of your eyes, as did the knowledge that Natasha and Tony had given their lives to make it happen. They sacrificed their lives so you could have yours.

You hardly had time to notice the sudden change in Steve’s behavior. You were so busy trying to reintegrate half the population into the current day, that the two of you spent less and less time together. You were in charge of bringing back the positions of SHIELD agents that had vanished and offered your help to them both professionally as well as privately. Some of them had lost their families because they’d moved on and it was very hard on them to realize that five years of life had simply passed them by. 

Steve had been talking about retirement for years. You knew he wanted to finally lay down the shield once and for all and the two of you had been talking about it more and more as time progressed. Finally, he decided to bring the team back to its former glory, to rebuild the facility and to find new possible recruits, before he’d finally call it quits forever. 

Before that could be done, the Infinity Stones had to be returned to their respective timelines. Of course, he was the one to suggest to do it. You’d honestly be surprised if he didn’t offer to do it himself. You told him it was okay because you trusted him and trusted his judgment and if he felt like he could complete the mission successfully, you would stand behind him and support him because that’s what good girlfriends did. 

You remembered the way he gently kissed you before stepping onto that godforsaken platform all too well, the way his hand caressed the side of your face and hair, the squeeze in your shoulder. It was a kiss unlike any of the ones you’d ever shared before, not even the ones he gave you after Tony’s funeral, filled with grief, sadness and need. No, this one was different. You didn’t know it at the time, but you did know it when looking back. 

He was telling you goodbye.

“No,” you cried, “no, no, no!” 

Your arms and legs flailed miserably, chest heaving rapidly up and down in irregular motions. Bucky cringed with how horribly upset and distraught you were, unsure of what the hell he should do about you crying beneath him.

He was sitting on the edge of your bed, rubbing your back in soft, circular motions while you hugged your pillow tight to your chest. Your face was red, tip of your nose glowing and your cheeks were so puffy you looked almost like a clown. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t think words could suffice or make you feel any better. He was probably right. 

“Why?” You choked out, “Why did he leave me?” 

You could hardly breathe without Steve. 

Bucky could hardly understand what you were saying. Every word came out in hiccups, forced to the surface by the tension in your lungs and contracting chest. For a long moment, you stopped breathing. Bucky panicked immediately. His pulse quickened and grip on you tightened. Then, you took a deep, panicked breath of air with a high pitched cry.

All you could think of was Steve, how he glanced at you from his spot in the dead center of the platform. How his lips tightened into a sad line, how his brow creased and his eyes closed just before he disappeared on you forever. You should have fucking known, but how could you? He was everything you ever wanted and you thought you were the same to him. He never even gave you the indication that he was unhappy, that he didn’t love you. That he was going to leave you for her. 

“Shh,” Bucky cooed, “It’s gonna be okay.”

Sam showed up at the door, which stood slightly ajar. His head peaked in, eyes following your heaving body and Bucky’s slouched form before resting on his face. Bucky shook his head. Sam quietly left. There was nothing he could do to ease the pain one of his best friends had caused you.

“Get some sleep,” he told you quietly after your sobs had silenced.

“Don’t leave me,” you managed to whimper, grabbing hold of his flesh arm and pulling it down with you.

You needed human contact, couldn’t stand the thought of being alone after being left by the love of your life.  

“Of course,” he replied, biting the inside of his cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, sugar.” 

You slept with Bucky by your side that night, still dressed in the clothes you’d put on while Steve was still lounging in bed that morning. The make-up you’d put on while Steve was in the shower had mostly come off on your sheets and on Bucky’s left shoulder. You clutched his shirt while you dreamt of Steve in short bursts, the desperate need for comfort so dire that you refused to let the man leave when he tried. He was angry too, angry with his best friend for putting the woman he loved so much through such pain. 

You cried as soon as you woke up the next morning, hand sore from fisting Bucky’s shirt all night. Your head hurt terribly, a pressure had built up behind your eyes overnight and it worsened as the day continued. Bucky eventually managed to leave you alone so he could get changed and talked to Steve, who was now an old man instead of the man who’d taken you to Paris on your first anniversary. 

You became indifferent to the saying ‘time heals all wounds’, because it no matter how many days passed you by, it never seized to hurt. Every little thing that reminded you of Steve would send you in a downward spiral. People recognizing you on the street for once being the most beloved Avenger began to walk around you with a wide arch because even they could tell something was terribly wrong with you. Soon enough, they all knew what had happened.

You hardly slept, because images of Steve dancing with Peggy haunted you all night long. Images of him, telling you he’d chosen her instead of you would flood your mind, along with pictures of the two of you when you were happy. You began to question it, all of it and wondered often what would’ve happened if you had been the one to join Tony on his journey back to the 70s instead of him. You wondered if he’d still be here, sleeping soundly next to you with his arms engulfing you in warmth. Now, there was only cold. 

You didn’t have the energy to be productive anymore. Life without Steve was no life and the void of his existence had taken away the importance of everyday tasks for you. Literally, everything you came in contact with reminded you of him, from the cereal you used to eat together to the movies you would watch. You couldn’t go to your favorite coffee place anymore, because that’s where you went to get his morning cup on the weekends. You couldn’t even stand to look your fellow teammates in the eye. They’d become afraid to be around you, walking on eggshells when you ventured out of the depths of your room for food because they were scared of saying the wrong thing. It happened once when Bruce made a comment towards Sam’s shield. His shield. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he said as he watched Bucky carry you back to your room, “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“It’s not your fault,” Wanda assured him, “She’s in a lot of pain right now. It could’ve been any of us.”

“Can’t we do something?” Sam asked, hands on his head. 

Wanda shook her head, “We can support her, but she needs time to heal.”

You never knew heartbreak could cause physical pain, but the constant strain on your heart was exhausting. You went through entire boxes of Ibuprofen to ease the constantly looming headaches, but they did very little to ease the dull throbbing of the back of your head. Your eyes were red constantly and your skin didn’t glow anymore. Everything had dulled like Steve had taken your life light with him back to the past, engulfing you in complete darkness.

You’d never find someone like him again because nobody compared to him. 

You often reminisced the good times you experienced with him by your side. The fun you had while sparring in the gym room, climbing on his back as he tried to push you to the floor. You thought back to the many dates you had, fancy candlelit dinners inside of expensive restaurants that involved your favorite flowers at the beginning of the night and passionate sex at the end. You remembered holidays, Tony’s extravagant parties that were mostly just you and him eye-fucking each other in fancy clothing with champagne on your breaths until it was late enough for you to bail so you could fuck for real. 

It was holding his hand, kissing him hard and long on his beautiful mouth before he had to leave for missions that sometimes lasted far too long for both your liking. Placing fingers on his thigh while he was driving and toying with the soft fabric of his jeans higher and higher until he couldn’t take it anymore. It was walking on the beach early enough to see the sunrise and long drives back on the back of his motorcycle, safely hidden away from the world behind tinted helmets.

Now, there was nothing. No hand-holding, no joking around, no fucking each other in the storage closet because you couldn’t wait to get back to your room on the top floor. Nothing but emptiness, cold and dreadful and tiring like a weighted blanket made of snow that refused to thaw under your own body temperature. 

Even when you finally decided to become more active again did the emptiness not leave you. It followed you around like a ghost, always lingering in every corner of every room you entered. Bucky felt sympathy for you, but even he couldn’t help you. You had to pull yourself from the depths of the ocean by yourself, had to swim back to the surface without a life vest or oxygen tank strapped to your back and you constantly felt like you were going to drown. Maybe you already had and this was your purgatory. 

You couldn’t help but regret it sometimes. Getting together with him. It was when that looming darkness engulfed you that you allowed yourself to regret ever getting to meet him. You’d lay in bed at night and pray to the Gods to turn back time just once, allow yourself to make the choice that would’ve prevented you from getting to learn who Steve Rogers was because that choice ultimately led you to fall in love with him.  If only you knew then what you knew now.

You sat by the fireplace alone now, staring at the smoldering embers and the flames that licked slowly burning wood. You watched the trees move in the wind by yourself now, watched the rain drip against the window panes with your knees pulled up to your chest. How could loving Steve Rogers hurt so fucking bad?

“How you holding up, kiddo?” Bucky asked, taking a seat beside you on the couch that directly faced the window. 

“I’m alright,” you responded, voice raspy and dry. 

He offered you a glass of water, which you took gladly. At least someone cared about you despite your efforts to push everyone away.

“I talked to him this morning,” he said finally, “he misses you, I think. Might even regret his decision to leave.” 

Your eyes flicker to Bucky, then fall back on the fireplace, “I miss him too.”

“He asked how you were doing,” he said carefully.

“What did you say?”

Bucky exhaled, “I didn’t lie.”

A comfortable silence fell over you, allowing you to listen to the crackling of the fire and Bucky’s breathing beside you. Sometimes, no words needed to be said for them to be exchanged. You toyed with the shaggy blanket over your lap, twirling the fabric between your fingers. 

“I don’t think he has a lot of time left.” 

You scooted closer to him, allowing your head to rest on top of his torso. He patted your head and drew circles in your hair while you rested your eyes for a moment. You hardly slept the night before and were beginning to feel drowsy. You started napping frequently, finding sleep wherever and whenever you could because your bed was too empty and too large at night. 

“Will you come with me?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I will,” he said, nodding although you couldn’t see it, “I’ll come with you.”

“When?” 

Bucky’s shoulders rose, “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll make time.” 

Maybe you should’ve known that he’d go back to her if the opportunity arose. You’d heard stories, of course, Bucky had told you enough. Steve didn’t talk about her much, except for after her funeral, which he attended alone without telling you. You should’ve known it then with how messed up he was after her death. Should have known that he’d never been able to really get over her. You couldn’t even really blame him, either. She’d been ripped from him when he went into the ice and was already on her deathbed by the time he woke up. For her, a lifetime had gone by. To him, it felt like seconds. It’s how Bucky must’ve felt when he came back after the Snap.

Sitting with him on the couch, you weren’t sure if you would’ve changed things. You had a lot of good times with Steve, they largely overshadowed the bad. He’d made you a stronger person, made you appreciate your talents and weaknesses for what they were and he never made you feel less than your worth. He was a good man, you knew it deep down, but accepting that you might not have been good enough for him was a wound that would never heal, not even as you took your last breath.

Still, a small shimmer of hope began to grow somewhere deep within your chest like a seed had been planted. Laying with Bucky in silence, watching the rain pitter-patter against the window, made you think one thought before sleep engulfed you properly for the first time in months.

Maybe things were the way they were meant to be. 

[logicalbookthief]

achilles, achilles come down (won’t you get up off, get up off the roof)

"This is a literal warzone!" the officer raves. "Let the heroes handle this, son."

"You don't have to be a hero to do what's right!" Natsuo yells in the man's face. "Maybe if more ordinary people stepped in when they should, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

Post Chapter 291 (technically AU as of 292). Natsuo can't watch his brother die without trying to save him. Not again.

Link to the fic at ao3.

*

*

Natsuo runs. It feels like all he can do.

He runs through the wreckage, the ruble, the destruction. Barely spares it a glance, the world a blur as it rushes by. How he's managed to stay on his feet and not trip or collapse is a miracle. If he had any blood left for his brain, if his blood wasn't pumping through his body so loud it roars in his ears, blocking out everything else, he may have been able to think it over clearly.

The fact is, he's not. Thinking clearly. Or maybe he's seeing clearly for the first time in a forever.

"Touya-nii!" Natsuo stumbles in his haste to get down the stairs. "Don't leave without me!"

He stretches his hand out to his brother, who's already at the door. Touya turns at his whine, eyes sparkling fondly.

"'Course not. You know I won't leave you behind!" He ruffles his hair with a hint of teasing. "Besides, Fuyumi is grabbing our lunches. So I've got no choice, huh?"

Natsuo heaves a sigh. In his hurry, he didn't even tie his shoes. Without any prompting, Touya leans down to knot the laces tight.

"You have soccer practice today, right?" Natsuo nods. "I'll walk you home, once I'm done my training. Wait for me by the bleachers."

There are fresh bandages peeking out of his brother's sleeve. Natsuo pretends not to look. Touya catches it when he quickly averts his eyes and smiles to show it's okay.

"Don't worry, they don't hurt anymore!" Natsuo knows that isn't true. His brother can't hide, when Natsuo has watched him cry, night after night. Lately his brother always seems to be hurting, inside and out. Nobody else seems to have noticed.

His brother is smiling, but it's a lie.

Liar, Natsuo gnashes his teeth against the wind as it buffets his face. Liar, liar, lair.

His mind chants it in the voice of a petulant child: Touya is a liar. For years, and years, and years, Touya - or is it Dabi? - left Natsuo to believe he was dead. He lied to Fuyumi and Mom, too, but he's ashamed to admit he cares that he out of everyone was kept in the dark.

Growing up, they were each other's confidantes. For every white lie Touya told, Natsuo got the ugly truth. Every resentment he held in his heart, Touya accepted without judgement. It was a burden and a privilege, taking up the torch of his brother's memory. Giving him a voice where he no longer had one. He suspects that he's mourned his brother most because nobody else had known the Touya he did.

Why do I exist?

For months after he died, Natsuo used to always keep one ear tilted toward the front door, wishing for his brother to walk through it and apologize for making him wait. He did this for so long Fuyumi become concerned that he wasn't coping. To her relief, the weight of his disappointment wore him down, and finally convinced him that his big brother wasn't coming back.

To have those childish hopes vindicated by the broadcast of a notorious villain feels like the punchline to a cruel cosmic joke.

Surreal as it is, he doesn't falter. Touya must have his reasons for hiding the truth, but Natsuo needs to hear the reason from his brother before he decides if the writhing mass in his stomach is more grief or elation.

The streets this close to the battle are empty. Deserted. Anyone with good sense would have fled hours ago. Obviously, Natsuo isn't exactly being ruled by logic.

He runs. Runs until his lungs burn, begging for him to stop. He's never burned from the inside, not like Touya. Yet he'd lay awake some nights, wondering what he must've felt in those final moments. Afraid, alone, burning so hot and horribly- god, it must've hurt-

The villain in the broadcast has scars everywhere. His chest, his arms, his chin. All they ever managed to find of Touya was that piece of his jaw. Biles rushes up his throat at the mere mention of it still.

It was Fuyumi who explained in a hushed voice why there was no body for them to bury. It wasn't her job to share the grisly details of their brother's demise, but Mom was gone and Dad was useless. So it was Fuyumi who squeezed his hand at a funeral with a hollow casket, telling him, "It's alright to cry " while she openly wept.

Natsuo spent the service watching his father, searching for signs of- well, he isn't sure what he wanted to see. He remembers his father's state of disbelief. The remorse that flit over his features. If he had to put a name to how his father looked in that moment it would probably be helpless. And the fury this ignited in his heart could've melted through the earth's core.

Helpless, as if this was completely out of his control. Helpless, as if Touya hadn't come to Natsuo every fucking night in tears over how he was a failure who didn't have a reason to exist. And he didn't even have the decency to watch his son's sense of self disintegrate. In his absence, that task fell to Natsuo.

Nowadays, Natsuo watches his father pray at a shrine and admit he's to blame, but it's the hollow casket all over again. Because he's never understood why it was his fault. Never realized how he tortured Touya. Molding him for a purpose he could never fulfill and then treating him like a consolation prize. Discarding a child whose only flaw was a body at war with his Quirk, a thing beyond his control.

In his own narrow, selfish way, Natsuo believes his father loves them. His encounter with Ending certainly put that into perspective. And yet if he could toss his less-than-perfect children aside for his own aspirations, without considering the damage that would do, what sort of love was that? Maybe he didn't understand; he had never had a Quirk worthy of his father's adoration.

Natsuo was never the favorite child and that's fine. He saw where it got his brothers.

Why do I exist?

A gloved hand clamps around his arm, startling him so hard he'd scream if he had any breath to spare.

"Hey, what're you doing?" In his single-minded focus, Natsuo hadn't noticed the string of officers blocking his path, including the one glaring at him like he's crazy. Probably they were there to assist any people who were to injured or scared to escape, not deter the only idiot in the city running towards the danger. "All civilians have to evacuate this area immediately!"

"Get away from me!" he snaps, shrugging out of the grip. He has barely managed to get his heartrate under control when he catches sight of Gigantomachia, which knocks the air right back out of him.

He has no idea how his little brother, or anyone, does this on a regular basis. His knees have locked up at the mere glance. The heroes who can still fight make a valiant effort to subdue the beast, and even as Best Jeanist attempts to wind his steel cables around the villain, it seems like a desperate attempt to mitigate the devastation. Surely, though, once more heroes arrive they...

There. Atop the roof of a building, Natsuo spots the villain from the broadcast, a splotch of white hair atop a black silhouette. Flames sprout from his torso, a blazing shroud of blue, and the fear that shoots through Natsuo overtakes any hesitation. He makes to run as the officer catches him by the shoulder.

"This is a literal warzone!" he raves. "Let the heroes handle this, son."

"You don't have to be a hero to do what's right!" Natsuo yells in the man's face. "Maybe if more ordinary people stepped in when they should, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

A roar from Machia sends a shockwave through the ground. That, coupled with the officer's stricken reaction to his words is what allows Natsuo to escape. He sprints toward the building where he last saw Dabi, the officer's cries lost to the hum of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The distance is nothing compared to a decade of grief, regret and guilt. It urges him up a flight of stairs, and another, and then another after that. By the time he reaches the roof, his lungs may well and truly explode if he taxes them any further.

Up this high, the wind is nearly deafening. Maybe it's the hammer of his heart in his chest. Dabi stares over the ledge, cloaked in flames. At this angle, Natsuo can't see his face, but the way his body's poised to leap, ready to rejoin the fray and leave him behind again... Something in Natsuo breaks. When the cry drags itself out of his throat, it's the raspy plea of a child.

"Touya!"

Dabi freezes, whirls towards his voice and that- Natsuo's breath hitches. That's his brother. His face is older, a patchwork of pain and yet... Without a doubt, it's Touya. Until this moment, Natsuo couldn't scarcely comprehend the truth, even as watched it play out on his phone screen. Now if he reached out a hand, it would definitely touch someone real, solid. Alive.

Had his family stood against him like this and really not recognized him? Shouto was hardly at fault, when he scarcely remembered his oldest brother. And as for his father... He had a knack of not paying attention where it mattered.

"It is you," he says hoarsely, surging forward on legs reduced to jelly. His heart sinks when his brother rebuffs the touch.

"Natsu..." Touya whispers his name in bewilderment. At least the distraction is enough for his flames to recede and Natsuo wants to fucking weep in relief. "What are you-"

Suddenly, the building rocks beneath their feet, a stark reminder of their proximity to the battle. Midair as he prepares to land a blow against Machia, Shouto's gaze strays over to Dabi, only to notice he's no longer alone. His eyes widen in visible terror. "Natsuo, get out of here!" he shouts.

Before he can stress the point, Machia swipes a massive claw at the heroes. Shouto dodges expertly, drawn back to the fight.

"He's right," Touya says flatly. It jolts Natsuo out of his terror-stricken daze. "You should go."

All traces of fear abates as anger seeps through the cracks of his resolve.

"What, you can give Dad and Shouto the news in person?" Natsuo's lips wobble into a line more sneer than a smirk. "While me, Fuyumi and Mom get to hear it over a fucking video."

"I'm not sorry for what I said," he scoffs. "He deserves to be exposed for what he is."

Natsuo swallows. "I know," he says tightly, and the thing is, he does. Beneath the whiplash of shock and sorrow, some vindictive part of Natsuo was glad when Touya exposed the image of their happy little family for the sham it is. He feels like shit for reveling in it at all; this will crush the dream of a normal family Fuyumi fought tooth-and-nail to preserve. Even the guilt doesn't stifle that sliver of satisfaction.

Out of all the siblings, he understands. The weight of his silence is unbearable some days. Knowing that it only protects the perpetrator, not the victims. Worse is the days where the silence doesn't weigh on him at all; those are the days he can't seem to forgive himself.

Tears begin to blur his vision. He blinks fervently against the sting. He hates that he has to do this here, on a roof, amongst this goddamn chaos. "You couldn't have told me the truth before you broadcasted it to the rest of the world!?"

Finally, Touya meets his gaze. His expression is unreadable, except for his eyes. They might shine blue, but there's no mistaking they're his mother's eyes. And no matter how much she hid, you could always see the sadness if you looked her in the eye.

"Didn't think you'd want a stitched-faced criminal showing up at your university," he deadpans.

Whatever retort he had to that shrivels up at the revelation: He knows where I go to school?  It lodges like a stone in the pit of his stomach. If that's the case, he must know where Fuyumi goes to school, where Mom's staying. It should be terrifying, a murder stalking him, his mother, his sister.

But it's heartbreaking, is what it is.

Watching Endeavor's career was necessary to his revenge, but that... That was Touya, shadowing his family like a spectator, a ghost, while they went on with their lives.

His jaw tightens against the crushing wave of emotion. "That's no excuse."

"It isn't one," Touya replies, tonelessly. "None of this is."

Natsuo blanches, though he manages to tamp down on the knee-jerk of panic. No, that isn't what this is, is it? The broadcast. Attacking Endeavor. This isn't a confessional and Touya isn't asking for his forgiveness. Unlike back then, Natsuo knows what this is. Knows the signs. He spends every day pouring over coursework that describes this exact scenario.

He won't be helpless this time.

Keep him talking, tether him to the present.

"You were alive for all these years..." He can't quite wrap his mind around the idea. His brother, the frailest of them all, scorched alive by his own fire, and crawling out of the ashes without help from anybody? "Where were you? How did you survive when you-"

"Look like a charred piece of meat?" Touya's grin cuts through the question, all sharp edges and spite. It's a bait and he refuses to rise. When Natsuo doesn't budge, the façade drops, replaced by a placid expression. "Never mind, it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters!" Natsuo bristles. Both of them hear the underlying sentiment behind the words: You matter to me!

He senses it the moment Touya shuts down. He was good at that, even as kids. He must've learned it from their mom: repress it, bury  it, disguise it with a smile. Until it inevitably boils over.

Touya turns his back to him. Somehow that aches worse than anything else. "You shouldn't be here," he repeats, chilling his brother to the bone. He sounds so serene. Matter-of-fact. Like he's burned through everything he had and now is left numb. "The Touya you knew is dead. Dry your tears and move on. It won't be hard. You've done it before, you can do it again."

He lays in bed some nights, wondering if his brother suffered, if as he died he screamed for help. Touya was good at hiding the pain, but oh, god, it must've hurt-

"Cut the crap!" Natsuo snaps. "Stop treating me like the Natsu you remember. I'm not that kid anymore, either."

He grinds his teeth together to keep any of his other bitter thoughts at bay. He hadn't meant to be harsh and besides, that isn't what Touya needs from him right now. However, it seems to jostle something in his brother, who looks at him, truly looks. Finally sees the angry, desperate and dirt-streaked man standing in front of him. A thin smile stretches the staples on his cheeks.

"No," he laughs, manic, and a little fond. "I guess not, huh?"

Natsuo huffs out a near-laugh, too. His mind is reeling yet his heart hangs less heavy than it did before. Briefly, it feels as if they are those kids, the ones who simply found comfort in each other's company. But the triumph is short-lived and he makes a critical error- he forgets. Forgets they're surrounded by heroes who view his brother as an imminent threat.

Steel cables jet out towards Touya from behind. Over his shoulder, Natsuo watches a streak of ice join the attack, likely to staunch any retaliatory flames, and he curses his little brother in the same breath his heart breaks for him. As far as Shouto's concerned, this is Dabi, and all he's trying to do is protect Natsuo, yet it's so fucked up because that isn't the brother he needs to save.

All he knows is that Touya, with the state he's in... Mentally distraught, physically destroyed. He won't surrender but he won't survive this much longer. His skin is still smoldering but he's ready and willing to burn until it's ash and Natsuo will lose his brother again.

He leaps for brother and he can't even pretend it's a noble impulse, or anything less than a moment of fear-guided insanity. He isn't a hero. He isn't kind like his siblings. Strong like his father or enduring like his mother. Not a martyr like Touya. He can't do much beyond the ordinary person, but he's got to do something, or else-

Natsuo surges right into the path of Best Jeanist's attack. Distantly, it sounds like someone screams his name - Shouto? His father? - he can't be sure. All of it's white-noise as he grabs his brother and swings them around, using his larger weight to crash them to the ground. He winces as his chin collides with collar bone, his knees scraping against the concrete with a screech of protest. Touya lands against his back, hard, the air punched out of his chest.

There's a dazed stretch of silence while Touya gawks up at him and Natsuo pants in the wake of his most recent adrenaline rush. It lasts for all of a second before his brother's howling and thrashing against his hold.

"You idiot!" he seethes. "Natsu, what the hell is wrong with you?! What are you doing? Let me go!"

His skin begins to heat. Though it feels like laying his palm over a stovetop set to simmer, Natsuo maintains his grip.

"I won't just stand by and let you destroy yourself," he yells, giving him a shake. Up close, the smell of signed flesh is nauseating. "Not again!"

Whatever Touya planned to spew back is halted by . Natsuo sobs freely, the tears rushing down his cheeks. They land over scars and skin alike and he wonders if Touya can feel the impact or if he's numb there, too. The struggling has ceased, and if ever there was a time to speak, it'll have to be now.

"You came to me crying, asking why you should exist . . . and I didn't have an answer."

There are fresh bandages peeking out of his brother's sleeve. Out of the collar of his shirt, too.

Fresh scars decorate his skin every day. Evidence of the training he continues, despite his father's disinterest. Despite the toll it's taking.

Natsuo pretends not to look. If he's noticed, someone else must have, too. A teacher. An adult. Mother, if she were home. Father, if he cared to look.

He shuts his eyes against the memory, where he can still see it, the angry red of his brother's flesh. "I knew you were hurting yourself with your Quirk. That you didn't care what happened to you, as long as you could prove you were useful!"

Fists tremble where they're clenched around Touya's arms, digging into scar-tissue. "I didn't know who to tell or if I should... Mom was already unstable and Dad was the reason... I didn't know what to do so I didn't nothing. And you... you..."

Wait for me by the bleachers.

Natsuo is left waiting, waiting, waiting. Forgotten. No surprise, since he was always the forgotten one. Fuyumi was the only girl, Touya was the oldest, and Shouto was the favorite but Natsuo- well, it was easy to forget Natsuo. Only Touya never forgot, which makes it all the worse. After he promised!

Sullenly, he walks home. Swears the moment he walks through the door he's going to give his brother a piece of his mind.

He never gets the chance.

"You didn't come home." Touya watches the words leave his mouth like he can't fathom any of them, but that's okay. This is Natsuo's grief to bare. He won't ever understand what it's like to burn, just as Touya won't understand this. "You didn't come home that day and I never got to tell you, I..."

Touya has barely moved since he started talking. Shock seems to have rendered him mute, the only proof of life the shallow rise his chest. He looks too prone, too dead like this. Natsuo would almost prefer the mania. Of course there's a chance he'll slide back into despair, or rage, and the sooner they get him to a stable environment (get him away, away from dad) without all these triggers the better.

Ever wary of breaking the fragile calm, Natsuo lifts his brother up by the shoulders, just enough to wrap his arms around him in a hug. Touya goes rigid, recoiling against any hint of affection. The hands that have burned countless others fall slack, neither reciprocating nor struggling. Gradually, the erratic beat of his heart slows to a steady thrum.

"I don't why you exist, but I'm happy you do." The smell of soot and chemicals flood his senses, and it's gross but at least it's real. Proof that however awful the reunion is, it really is his brother. Natsuo chokes out a watery laugh and hugs him tighter. "I'm so happy to see you."

His shirt is damp where Touya's nose is pressed and he wonders if Touya can cry, considering the scars... Wonders if maybe he wept too much when they were young and doesn't have any tears left to spare. It doesn't matter, since Natsuo has plenty for both of them.

The noises from the battle have dwindled, as Machia's subdued and more heroes arrive. It won't be long before they pry them apart to take Touya into custody. He swallows thickly at the notion of his brother in prison, barred from the care his condition requires, but it's all he can do for now to ensure he's safe. Safe from himself, anyway. If the heroes think they can pull the same shit as they did with that other villain Twice, well-

They'll have to get through Natsuo first.

[drvrslcense]

Can’t Take My Eyes off of You (Percabeth)

Masterlist | Twitter | Wattpad

Read this on AO3! 

Word Count: 3k+

Pairings: Percabeth - Percy Jackson x Annabeth Chase

Description: In which Annabeth is tired from Christmas shopping & plays a song.  

Warnings: FLUFF & also unedited work

Shawn Mendes’ cover is amazing! & If you can’t tell, I’m feeling all the feels- so please enjoy this & listen to this song on loop. 

It's December 24 - the air was chilly and buzzing with that electric Christmas cheer. People all over the place were wearing big smiles, while some were scowling because of the tight crowds. Everyone was fighting their way through the crowds - everywhere you look, you'll hear someone mutter, "excuse me". 

Annabeth was normally a strategist, often considering buying Christmas presents beforehand - before all these craziness starts. But with finals on the horizon, Annabeth focused on her studies, forgetting to buy Christmas gifts. Now, she grumbles about procrastinating and forgetting to buy presents as she fights her way through the enormous crowds, her boyfriend Percy behind her. 

Percy was holding Annabeth's hand as the blonde continued to push through the crowd. Sometimes, his head would turn and he'd gaze in wonder to all those Christmas lights around the city, leading Annabeth to tug his hand and get him off his daze. There was no denying that this boy loved Christmas. He loves being with his family, spending time with his friends, and most of all, spending the winter break with his girlfriend. 

Annabeth was still fighting through the crowd, just wanting to get home. She'd already spent the entire chilly day out shopping for gifts, instead of just staying in and watching whatever crappy Christmas movie Percy likes to pick out. She and Percy were carrying shopping bags for presents - Percy did his own shopping too. While Annabeth bought stuff like perfumes for the girls and polo shirts for the boys, Percy bought foods. Dam foods. He bought his friend, Grover, a can fondant cake as a gag gift. Like a literal aluminum can fondant cake. You know those cakes that look like the thing they designed it after? That then turns out to be a cake? Yeah, that. Annabeth didn't know where Percy just find those. She almost berated him for buying those dam snacks and forced him to buy other gifts like a musical instrument for Grover or a box of LEGOs for Tyson, but she understood where he was coming from. And it was sweet, so she let it go, wondering if Percy bought a dozen soft pretzels or a gingerbread house for her. 

As they clamber through the busy streets to their apartment in the middle of this bustling city, Percy could feel both excitement and nervousness on his insides. His intestines felt like it was rising up to his throat and forcing him to throw up the spectacular soft pretzel he and Annabeth ate in the midst of the chaos. He bought something for Annabeth while they were out. He was sure it was pretty, even he thinks that it was forged by Hepahestus himself. He just wasn’t sure what Annabeth’s reaction would be when she sees or when he gives it. He knew that he wanted it to happen, it was just so nerve wracking to do that he avoided it. 

Annabeth sighed happily as they entered their apartment, dropping her bags near the door — in an orderly fashion — before flopping down on the couch. Percy dropped his bags messily on the table before opening the lights on their Christmas tree and flopping down beside Annabeth. The two admired the Christmas lights that danced before them. Their apartment was simple, small, but enough for the couple as they brave adulting. Annabeth was the one who designed the entire apartment. If it was her way, she would have designed their house. But because of high prices, urbanization, you know, the stuff, they couldn’t. Although Percy bets somewhere that Annabeth has a blueprint of her dream house. 

It was a two-bedroom apartment with a minimalist theme. Although it was tiny, it seemed so spacious and elegant, that their visitors (their friends) often teased them about being rich. Upon entering the door, you’d immediately see a view of the buildings outside with their big windows on the side. Their Christmas tree stood beside the windows, its lights flickering various colors of green, blue, and red. It was, by standards, a thin tree. Percy liked his tree big, but given the space of their apartment, it was impossible. So, they settled for that thin, green tree adorned with countless golden and silver colored balls - there was even a snowflake ornament and a golden star perched on top. 

That attention to the windows would be stolen away as eyes would be on their cozy, L-shaped couch, in front of that is their white, pear-shaped coffee table where an architecture book lay on top of. Percy often likes to put his feet on the coffee table, which he just does to annoy Annabeth who likes keeping things and orderly in their house. Their television was mounted on the wall across the couch. On the side of the apartment was their kitchen, it was L-shaped with a dining table in the middle. The dining table seats four persons and has a modern theme. It was round that whenever they have people over, they just add chairs.  

The couple stared off at their window which overlooked half of the city and the flickering of lights on their Christmas tree. The lights danced in a way that was enticing to the both of them and it was the only light in the room. The couple stared in silence, with Percy putting his arm around Annabeth, before she broke it and scrolled on her phone. Percy cuddled Annabeth on the couch before the blonde pushed him away for being heavy. 

Annabeth let out a weird sound - somewhere between a scream and a squeal -  as she saw something on her phone that Percy observed quickly lifted her spirits. 

"What?" Percy bolted upright. "What happened?" 

"This," Annabeth has a big grin on her face as she showed Percy her phone. It was a paused video of a curly-haired boy, sitting in front of the piano. Percy was confused, but he was interested as seeing it made all her exhaustion leave. 

"And what is 'this', exactly?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow to Annabeth. 

"Just turn on the speakers." 

Sighing, Percy reached behind him and turned on their speakers. Annabeth quickly connected her phone and played something. 

You're just too good to be true 

The first line of the song plays and Percy thought the voice was familiar, he just couldn't remember who. But he knew the song, his mother often played it while he was growing up. All the while, Annabeth has this soft smile on her face and Percy decided it was heaven. He could give her the world and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

"Who is this?" Percy asked. 

"Shawn Mendes," Annabeth sighed dreamily, a big smile appearing on her face - she often reserved the smile for the special people in her life. Percy couldn't help the jealousy that stirred in him, but he shook it off, scolding himself as irrational. Instead, he raised his eyebrows, and a smirk toyed on his face - apparently, Annabeth is a big fan of Shawn Mendes. 

At long last love has arrived 

And I thank God you’re alive

Annabeth closed her eyes, feeling the way Shawn Mendes’ voice just flow to her ears. It wasn’t heaven, but it was pleasurable enough. She feels like floating on Cloud 9, where all her stress disappeared and everything else just melts away and all she could see was Percy’s dazzling sea-green eyes, tousled jet-black hair, and his smile. Damn, that smile. The song wouldn’t be the death of her, his smile would be. She couldn’t deny all these feelings she has for him, even though they’ve been a couple for years now. 

It all started out during high school. It was kind of cliche but Annabeth was glad she met Percy that young. Percy was a big part of her life, growing up as schoolmates despite not being close friends or enemies - he was just always there and Annabeth loved that about the two of them. They were always there for each other. Like that time in Mathlete where Annabeth competed against another school and won, she could see Percy cheering for their school in the crowds. Or when Annabeth rallied against their school overworking their teachers, Percy joined them. Or when Percy was awkwardly standing during Rachel Dare’s birthday bash and Annabeth joined him. That was when they first started talking and it all went from there. 

Funny how they went from strangers in high school to literally a couple living together in the middle of the city. Their journey up to now has been a wild ride, but Annabeth was glad that it ended here - in their apartment, with Percy beside her doing God knows what, but having his presence is a comfort to Annabeth. 

Pardon the way that I stare

There's nothing else to compare

The sight of you leaves me weak

There are no words left to speak

While Annabeth closed her eyes during the song, Percy stared at her. He couldn’t help but admire her. She was pretty, no matter how much she denied it. Her piercing gray eyes were Percy’s favorite physical attribute of Annabeth. But what he admires most is her courage -  she is brave beyond compare, often heading head first into whatever difficulties they face. In fact, she was the one who asked him out. Percy was the one who was about to ask her out that night but Annabeth beat him to it, much to his frustration and his surprise. 

It was during their school prom night, both of them ditched in the middle of it, coming home to Percy’s apartment to have a spontaneous movie marathon. It was in the middle of it and Percy was overthinking about whether or not he should ask her out. He’d liked her for years and had done nothing. They have also been friends of two of these. It was a boring movie when Annabeth abruptly faced him and asked, “Wanna go out to lunch tomorrow?”. Percy was taken aback by that question and just stared at her. Annabeth misunderstood him as him rejecting her. She stood up to grab her things when Percy yelled, “No, wait.” Percy was wearing a nervous, but boyish smile that made Annabeth stop and smile at him. Percy grinned and before they knew it, they were dating and Percy couldn’t help but always notice her gray eyes, which he thinks turns stormy whenever she’s intense. 

Annabeth is captivating and Percy feels very lucky to have her in his life. He feels blessed by the gods to just be with her. Being around her presence made Percy feel whole. She is his best friend, partner, and love of his life. 

Something was weighing down on his pocket and he palmed it, feeling the small box’s sharp edges and velvet skin. Sighing, he set his hands on his palm and paced around thinking that Annabeth was probably too engrossed in the song to hear him pacing around. 

He was going nuts, not knowing what to do with the item. He was sure he wanted to do it during the holidays. But the great Percy Jackson doesn’t have any plans nor any ideas on how to proceed. He wanted to ask his best friend Grover, but Grover is quite chatty and he knew that it would spread within their friend group even before he does it, so no. And the others, well, it’s not that Percy distrusts them, it's just that feeling that he wants to do this by himself if he can’t tell Grover. And there’s also the feeling of pressure if someone knows. 

Of course Mr. Chase knows -- he’s already agreed on this whole thing months ago, when he pulled him aside during Annabeth’s birthday, asking Percy when he’d do it. 

Percy continued to pace around the room when his eyes laid on the bags of presents strewn across the apartment. Instead of just pacing, he decided to put it all under their Christmas tree. 

Annabeth heard the rustling of the paper bags and opened her eyes. “What are you doing, seaweed brain?” 

“Nothing,” Percy answered quickly. Too quickly that his heart sped up. “Just-- moving the bags under the tree.” 

“Oh, okay,” Annabeth answered, shooting him a small smile as he turned his back on her. Annabeth closed her eyes once again listening to the song. Percy released a relieve sigh as he saw Annabeth’s eyes closed. 

Later. 

But if you feel like I feel

Please let me know that it's real

The song ended quickly. Too quickly for Annabeth’s liking. There was just something about Shawn Mendes’ voice that sounded so satisfying that everything weighing her down just melted away. 

She opened her eyes for a bit, setting the song to loop. And then closed it again, melting into her bubble of relaxation. 

Percy was happy that Annabeth’s in that state of bliss. Finals were stressing her out the last few weeks and today’s Christmas shopping just happened to be the cherry on top. 

Finishing up with moving the presents, Percy stood up, a smirk toying on his face as he got an idea. It was random and spontaneous, but Percy thought of it as romantic. The song was romantic and the ambiance set in the room with the Christmas lights and the bustling streets below just makes up a combination for a spontaneous slow dance in the middle of their living room. 

Percy started moving stuff around the room quietly, careful not to make Annabeth open her eyes. He moved the presents around once more, lining them up under the windows to make more room. Then, he moved the coffee table to the side. He wasn’t sure how he'd done it properly, stealth wasn’t one of his abilities. People would always deem him as ‘clumsy’, but he would call it ‘just someone not wanting to do it’. It was his way of denial that he was clumsy. 

Anyways, he let another song pass by. He smiled as he saw his work - the room has more space and everything just looked so perfect in his eyes. He was also proud of himself because he managed to do it all without making Annabeth open her eyes. 

You'd be like heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much

As Shawn Mendes’ voice in the beginning of the cover filled the room once again, he cleared his throat in front of Annabeth and offered his hand. Annabeth opened her eyes and stared at it. 

“Come on, dance with me,” Percy said, opening his arms, and doing a motion of what looks like a slow dance. Annabeth laughed as she stood up and Percy’s breath was snatched. 

The way she stood up was so graceful, like a princess, that even without the ball gown and sparkling glass shoes, made his jaw drop. His smile widened and he offered his hand once more. Annabeth took his hand and playfully curtsied. The two of them shared a soft laugh before Annabeth placed a hand on his shoulder and he placed a hand on her waist. 

It took a few paces before the two of them were dancing in harmony. But when they did, it was amazing. It was like the whole world fits into his arms. He wasn’t nervous anymore. He was Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase’s boyfriend. 

Percy swayed Annabeth and she followed along. If anyone could see them, it would be like two rusty robots dancing together. But for them, this is perfect. 

“I love you,” Percy softly said while swaying. 

“Yeah?” Annabeth looked up at him, staring into his dazzling sea-green eyes. 

“Yeah,” Percy kissed her forehead, inhaling the scent of lemons. No matter how sweaty she was the whole day, her hair always manages to smell like lemons. 

“You know,” Annabeth started when they resumed back to their swaying.

“What?” Percy stared at her piercing gray eyes. It was mesmerizing, it was the only thing about her that makes her unique from Princesses. It was also one thing of Annabeth’s that Percy loved, among all of them. 

“I continually thank the gods for leading me to you. You’re a gift to me, Perseus Jackson,” Annabeth said, keeping her eyes trained on his chest. She noticed his outfit today which was a dark blue shirt and black pants which highlighted his height, which was six feet. She was shorter than him, by only a few inches. 

“Hey,” Percy lifted her face up, facing his hand under her chin. “I thank the gods, too.” 

Words can only do so much for the two of them. The two of them knew that it wasn’t just gratitude to the gods, but it was also gratitude and love for everything they’ve been through. It was all those gratitude for moments they spent, even moments they spent apart. It was those things that led them to each other. That ‘thank the gods’ thing were just filled with unspoken words, unspoken feelings that both of them were unsure how to express. It was those fun moments they shared like dates and celebrations. It was also those sad, comforting moments they shared when Annabeth failed her entrance exams. It was also all those fights that led them here in this moment. 

It was everything that made them. Sure, words won’t ever be enough, and they both aren’t sure if actions will be too. But for now, it is enough. 

“I love you,” it was Annabeth’s turn to say the three words. She tiptoed and kissed Percy’s cheek before they swayed again. 

Even after hearing those three words from Annabeth countless times before, Percy was sure he would explode every time. He couldn't believe that he’s here with Annabeth. Gods, he was completely smitten with her. It was an overwhelming feeling -- being loved -- that Percy thought he would explode. His love for Annabeth was also overflowing, he imagines it as something like the ocean - vast and immeasurable. 

Before the high note starts, Percy starts swaying Annabethas if they’re waltzing. And as the high note hits, Percy spun Annabeth around in which she turned all over the space in their living room. 

I love you, baby

And if it's quite alright I need you, baby

Percy was sure he was watching it in slow motion as Annabeth spun around, her ponytail flowing behind her. She was captivating, percy was so sure of it as he stared at her. It took everything in him to just stay in the moment and not let his mind wander off. 

The rest of the world falls away as the sight of her leaves him weak. Percy noticed the way Annabeth’s foot crossed as she spun, a careless smile on her face. He could see her eyes twinkling as she spun. 

Her hair hits Annabeth square in her face, making her stop. She stopped beside the Christmas tree and Percy could see just how bright she radiates beside their Christmas lights. 

Percy looked at her and the two of them shared a laugh and a big smile. 

“Come here,” Percy motioned her to spin back to him. 

This is now or never, Percy thought. 

To warm a lonely night, I love you, baby

Trust in me when I say

Annabeth was sure she was shining brightly, big bursts of happiness was radiating off of her, as Percy motioned her to spin back to him. 

At first, she felt ridiculous, just spinning round and round. But she let that feeling go as bliss took over when she realized she was sharing this moment with Percy. What was supposed to be a moment of relaxation after a long day of buying Christmas presents, turned out to be very joyous when Percy asked her to dance with him. 

It was perfect. This moment. 

If Annabeth could freeze a moment in time, this would be it - with the two of them dancing around their apartment to Shawn Mendes’ voice and just that moment of joy before Christmas. 

Stopping, Annabeth stumbled. Turning around a few times made her dizzy that Percy had to steady her before kneeling down. 

But when he did, Annabeth took a step backwards and her hands flew to her mouth where a gasp escaped.

“Is this happening?” Annabeth breathed out through her rapidly beating heart. 

“Yeah,” Percy said, opening up the small, orange, velvet box. It revealed a ring with a simple square diamond on top. It was perfect and Annabeth’s eyes watered as she saw the sparkling ring and the look on Percy’s eyes.

Percy chuckled nervously before starting his speech. “Annabeth Chase, when I first saw you, I was captivated. You were enchanting and perfect. But of course, me being me, let that go, knowing I was never up to your standards. But then that night at Rachel's party when you talked to me, I felt like I had a chance. And thus, blossomed a friendship, wise girl, that would lead to this. Gods, I’m so blessed to have you, wise girl. You are my best friend, my partner, and unmistakably the love of my life. So, Wise Girl, would you do me the honor of being your husband and marry me?”

Annabeth’s eyes were welling up in tears and she released a small laugh, “Never knew you could stomach that, Seaweed Brain.” 

Percy chuckled nervously as Annabeth grinned at him through her blurry sight. 

“But yes, seaweed brain, I’ll marry you,” Annabeth finally said, making Percy release a relieved laugh and throw his hands up. 

Percy was about to stand up when he remembered the ring still not being in Annabeth’s hand. “Oh right,” he said, grabbing the ring out of the box and placing it on Annabeth’s left ring finger.

It fits perfectly, Annabeth thought as she gazed in wonder at her ring. 

“It’s perfect,” Annabeth told Percy when he stood up beside her, placing his hands on her waist. 

“You’re perfect,” Percy told Annabeth, kissing her forehead. 

The blonde faced her fiance, and placed her hands around his neck before pulling him into a kiss. 

“I love you,” she said before pulling him again for a kiss, placing her left hand on his cheek. Percy smiled as he felt the cold metal of the ring on his cheek. 

Now that I found you, stay

And let me love you, baby

Let me love you

[galactic-magick]

Distance: Patton x Reader

Request: Hii! Could i get a Patton x Reader with the prompts 14 and 35 in the beginning, then 8 towards the end please? I had this idea where its a human au and Patton and Reader met when they were young at summer camp. Patton feels homesick and Reader sees them and decided to comfort them. Years pass and they get jobs and stuff and because they didnt live near eachother they'd usually talk on the phone, but stopped. One day reader calls and says prompt 8 and Patton confesses his love on the phone. - @autumnfalls26​

Summary: Your childhood best friend you met at a summer camp crosses your mind again.

Words: 1400+                                        

Warnings: none I think? Touch of angst ig

Author’s Notes: Present day is in normal text and flashback to when you were kids is in italics. Idk why I got emotional writing this lol. Maybe cuz I’m a Patton kinnie.

Taglist: @luluwinchester​ @nerve-ous-love​ @zarieslayer​ @amayaisokay​

-                                

-

-

The door shuts, and you let out a long awaited breath.

It wasn’t any different than a normal day. You got up. You went to work. And now you’re home.

But every day it hurts more and more, the constant strain of being an adult and having to abandon your dreams for more “productive” activities. Your life feels empty, like something is missing.

You slump on the couch and glance at the shelf, pictures lined up in no particular order. Family and friends occupy the frames, and one of them has a group picture of the summer camp you went to when you were younger.

You hoist yourself up, walking over and grabbing the latter. Everyone’s smiling, sweaty and dirty, and you get a laugh out of your younger self’s chubby cheeks and toothy grin.

You look at the little boy next to you. Patton Sanders was his name.

Is, you correct yourself. He’s still around, even though you don’t talk anymore.

It’s not that anything happened. You just, grew apart. You connected so well as kids at that camp, becoming best friends basically on the first day. After it was over you talked on the phone almost every day throughout middle school, high school around once a week, but after that, the contact lessened. With college and jobs and whatnot, you simply stopped talking as much.

And now you can’t remember the last time you called him.

 “Are you okay?” you plopped down on the bench next to the boy you saw crying.

He sniffled, looking at you, “Yeah, I’m fine,”

“Hi fine, I’m Y/N!”

His tears stopped almost as if by command, and he stared at you.

Then he burst out laughing, “You like dad jokes too?”

“What do you mean? I’m not a dad,” you shook your head.

“Oh. Sorry. One of the big kids told me that’s what my jokes are called,”

“Did the big kids make you cry?” you cocked your head.

“No, I was just feeling sad,” another tear started to fall despite you lightening his mood.

“Why?”

“I miss home. I’ve never been away from home this long without my parents,”

You stood up firmly, your hands on your hips and staring right at him, “Will you quit raining on your own parade? We can do whatever we want here! No parents means no rules!”

“I guess so…”

“We can play on the playground as long as we want! We don’t have to eat vegetables! We can stay up late!” you didn’t mean to yell at him, you were just excited. “What’s your name anyway?”

“Patton,”

“Hi Patton,” you grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “C’mon, let’s go explore,”

“B-But what if we get lost? What if we get in trouble?”

“It’s okay, I’ll be holding your hand the entire time,”

And just like that, your hand slid into his, and he didn’t let go for dear life.

 The camp was only for a week, but you spent nearly every minute together. Patton felt safe with you, and you loved hanging out with him. You stuck by him during all the meals and group activities, and your free time too. Fortunately your cabins happened to be next to each other as well, and a couple of the nights you snuck out and just talked for hours on the swing set.

You’d never had a real best friend before, and neither had he. When your parents came to pick you up you immediately begged them to exchange numbers and emails so you could keep in touch. You houses weren’t extremely far apart, but still a couple cities away, a little over an hour’s drive. You thought you might be able to meet up once in a while, but not often.

 You set the picture back down, sighing. Childish memories usually make people happy, so why does this sting so much?

Is this what missing someone feels like? Really missing someone?

You pull out your phone from your pocket and bring up his contact.

You can’t imagine he’d want to hear from you. Why would he? What are you even supposed to say? “Hey man, long time no see”?

Incredibly underwhelming compared to what you want to say.

You want to tell him how much he meant to you all those years. How much it meant for him to talk to you every time you needed it. You told him everything, literally every single detail about your day. You laughed at each other’s dumb jokes. You cried over the phone multiple times, and so did he.

You helped each other with homework that neither of you could understand.

You tried to see each other in person at least once a year.

When you asked him to your school dance and he wasn’t able to make it, he made it up to you by sending you a package full of your favorite things and video calling you for hours.

When his pet dog died, you drove all the way to his house just to give him a hug, even though your parents didn’t like you taking the car without permission.

All you want is to know how he is. You want to know if he’s doing well, if life is treating him alright. Does he have a partner? He must, right? Is he still at the same job? Did he finish his degree?

You press the call button before you can convince yourself out of it.

He picks up surprisingly fast.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, Pat,” you smile at the sound of his voice. “Sorry about this, I’m sure you’re busy,”

“No! Not busy at all,”

“Oh,” you sit back down on the couch. “I know this might sound kind of stupid, but I was just thinking about you today, ya know, wishing we were kids again,”

There’s a silence.

“Pat? You there?”

“Y-yeah, sorry,” nervous laughter muffles his words. “I’ve just been thinking about you too. Coincidence, huh?”

“I just…I feel so bad that we barely talk anymore, ya know? Like you were my best friend for my entire life, how could I lose you like that?” you can’t believe you’re saying all this so freely, but it’s always been like that with him. It’s like you physically can’t hold anything back, even when he’s on the phone miles away.

“You never lost me,”

“What?”

“You never lost me, Y/N. I’ve always thought of you as my best friend no matter how much or little we’re talking. I’ll always wait for you,”

Your eyes water at that last comment. Although it sounded more like a promise.

“You know,” he continues. “While we’re on the subject, I should probably tell you something I should’ve told you a long time ago,”

“Mmhm?”

“Well, I kind of was in love with you, during all that time,”

“Really?”

“Yeah…And if I’m being honest, I think I still am,”

You clap your hand over your mouth and almost drop your phone.

I mean, it’s not like you’re dumb. You knew there was always something there between you, and it certainly wasn’t one sided. But it was something unspoken, something neither of you ever put words to.

And you assumed it faded away along with your friendship.

But after hearing him say that, everything comes flooding back. All the other memories, all the feelings.

At this point you’d just marry him on the spot.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You clear your throat, “Yeah, I’m fine,”

“Hi fine, I’m Patton,”

You chuckle, and he laughs right along with you.

“Gosh I wish I could see you right now so I can say that back,” you sigh.

“Just a minute,” he says, abruptly ending the call.

You sit there staring at your empty screen, wondering what happened.

He doesn’t think he can literally get here in a minute, does he?

Knock. Knock.

You run to the door and open it, shocked to see Patton standing right there in front of you.

Before you can say anything, he pulls you into a tight hug.

“How did you get here so fast?” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I was thinking about you, so I wanted to see you and surprise you. I was already almost here when you called me,”

“Wow,” is all you can muster.

He lets you go, but only so he can bring his hands to the sides of your face. You look into his eyes, and there’s nothing but joy in them. No bitterness, no anger, just love.

“I love you too, by the way,” you smile, your cheeks squishing a bit against his palms.

He looks like he’s about to cry, but you’ll never know for sure.

Because his lips are on yours faster than you can ask if he’s okay again.

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 3//

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7) (Chapter 8) (Chapter 9) (Chapter 10)

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @judexcardanxgreenbriar, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @emikadreams)

The following couple of days passed in a blur as I tried not to count down the hours leading up to Rhys’s return. After a week apart, the ache for my mate to come home was nearly stifling. I didn’t want to compare it to the near-month we had been separated before the war with Hybern; when I had acted as a double agent for my court, for my family, in order to save them. It was agonizing, my daemati abilities and magic being drained by the faebane slowly poisoning me; all while being unable to fully communicate with Rhys through our bond. Last night, our last apart, I had to remind myself that this was nothing like it; we were in the same court and he was due back in a few hours. Just as I was turning in for the night, I found a note on my dresser and nearly knocked it over as I lept for the folded piece of paper with a simple sentence scribbled in his handwriting: 

I’ll be home first thing in the morning.

I smiled at his words for far longer than was probably necessary, recalling the notes we used to pass each other in the early days of our friendship; before I realized that we could simply communicate through our bond and shared daemati powers, before I even realized we were mates. My heart swelled at the gesture; imagining him writing the quick note and sending it off with a no-doubt smug grin. I chose not to write back and set it back down on the dresser before enduring a fitful sleep. I was glad the symptoms of my illness were nearly gone and no longer plagued me at night; the strange glimmer at my core remained and flitted about from time to time, but it remained calm now as I laid in bed with eyes trained on the wall of windows across from me. The rising sun was beginning to bathe the sky in morning light; oranges, yellows, and soft pinks blending into the night sky as the sun began its slow ascent. I bit my lip as I glanced down at myself, picking off a stray speck of dust from the red and lacy underthings I wore—a favorite of Rhys’s and one I saved for special occasions.

I sighed deeply, closing my eyes for a brief moment as I stretched my stiff limbs. I didn’t have to open my eyes as I felt him a second later. I smiled as the room was filled with his scent—salt, citrus, and rain. I breathed him in, relief filling every inch of me; noting a very faint, yet familiar, aroma radiating between us. Before I could name it, strong arms enveloped me as I opened my eyes and met with violet.

“Hello Feyre darling,” he purred as he pulled me against him.

I arched my back, allowing his arms to encircle my waist. My hands brushed through his dark locks, making the first contact between us delicate and loving, as he hovered over me. My breathing hitched as I realized his Illyrian leathers were already gone and he pulled me closer.

“You’re here,” I breathed.

His lips met the skin between my neck and shoulder, “I did promise I would be here first thing in the morning.”

“I didn’t realize it would literally be at the crack of dawn,” I teased; one hand moving to grip the hair at the nape of his neck while the other gripped his shoulder, my hips rolling against him.

His hands moved to admire the undergarments I wore, tugging at them with an achingly slow ease, “What can I say? I couldn’t stay away, Feyre darling.”

My breath hitched again as his lips finally caught mine, and any restraint I exercised before now snapped. I kissed him feverishly, hands dragging down his back as his wings flared out instinctively at my touch. I grinned on his lips, “Extra sensitive, are we?”

He growled in response, pressing my hips down as I tried rolling them again, “To think, I almost forgot what a cruel, beautiful thing you are, mate.”

My grin only widened as he moved from my lips down my neck, and further. Leaning my head back with a soft moan, I briefly thought of where the other two Illyrians might be. If Rhys was here, had they remained at the camps to wrap up any leftover business, or-

“Are you really thinking about other males while I’m doing this?” He drawled, nipping at my collarbone as his hand slid between us.

I gasped at his touch, arching my back against him and realized my mental shields had been shamelessly thrown down the second our lips met. Blushing, I tugged at his hair lightly, his eyes meeting mine again as I breathed, “Maybe if you weren’t taking so long, I wouldn’t let my mind wander.”

He growled lowly and the sheer intensity behind those now darkened violet eyes caused me to shiver against him as any previous thoughts and taunts I had vanished; I pulled him back down for a vigorous kiss.

x

Not too long after, we decided not to leave our room for the rest of the day.

He spent the remainder of the morning cherishing every inch of my body, and I did the same, unable to resist him for more than a few minutes before we launched into another round. I couldn’t help feeling amused at our frenzy; reminding me of when we were newly mated. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered what Rhys told me then, about the inherent need to ensure his mate was impregnated. Maybe that was why the frenzy was renewed now; after a week apart, our mating instincts were trying to pick up where we left off before his absence.

Rhys inhaled my scent deeply as a strong hand flattened on my stomach, his face buried in the crook of my neck as we lay in bed--finally allowing ourselves a break. I traced lazy circles on his chest as he took another breath. “Something’s different,” he commented casually.

“What do you mean?” I asked, tracing the dark whorled patterns of the tattoos on his chest; admiring them and dreaming of how to include them into my next painting.

“I don’t know, but something feels off,” he said a little more seriously, and I heard the concern beginning to brew.

I hesitated. I made sure my mental shields were intact as I contemplated revealing my mysterious illness to him. The first night I was sick, my mental shields had been lowered during my vulnerable moment and he was able to guide me through my panic--no doubt being awakened as abruptly as I had been by my nightmare and the illness that followed. Since then, I battled to make sure they remained whole during my nausea spells in order to prevent him from worrying about me further. He noted the delay in my response and frowned.

“You’ve been sick,” it wasn’t a question.

I sighed, “Just a little,” I quickly added before he could protest, “It wasn’t a big deal. I just had a couple of bad days feeling lousy, but I’m much better now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His frown remained, fingers curling into my waist protectively.

“I didn’t want you to worry. You, Cass, and Az had business to take care of in the war camps. How did that go?” I raised a brow, wondering at the slight curl of his lips at the mention of his brothers.

He reigned himself in and sighed, “There were no female recruits in this year’s Rite, as I suspected.”

I rolled my eyes, “I bet Cassian loved that.”

He snorted, “Oh, he loved it so much that Az and I heard all about it for the remainder of our stay.”

“I don’t blame him. He worked hard to train those females, to make sure they were caught up enough to survive out in the mountains,” I empathized. I personally worked with Cassian to train alongside the female Illyrians; giving them my own advice and even instructing some of them on how to properly hold a blade. Tired of Devlon’s constant excuses as to why the females were so behind in their training, Cassian brought them to our own training pit at the estate. After spending several months training with the females of age, I knew how excited they were at the prospect of participating in the Rite.

“I don’t either,” Rhys amended, tracing a finger around my navel; eyeing his own movement as contemplation settled on his face. “We’re going to put more pressure on Devlon for next year. Apparently the other camp lords ‘overwhelmed’ him in their vote to include the females this year.”

I frowned, “Was there any more news on the other camp lords?”

Rhys sighed deeply, already knowing what I was referring to. Ten years ago the son of the camp lord of the Ironcrest camp, Kallon, began spreading post-war dissent among other war camps; putting all the blame of their fallen comrades on the High Lord of the Night Court’s shoulders. Kallon also placed equal responsibility on Cassian and Azriel’s shoulders, seeing as they were not only Illyrian bastards but also close to Rhys and followed his orders. However, after taking over his father as camp lord of Ironcrest, Kallon was silenced once Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel visited the camp. Rhysand made sure to make his presence in the camp known by having Cassian add it to his rotation of monthly check-ins. Not even a year later, the rumors of his insubordination had quieted. We thought the issue was over until Azriel’s recent reports picked up on more of Kallon’s old talks resurfacing among the war camps. During this year's Blood Rite, the trio made it a priority to scavenge any details during their stay in Bloodhaven under the guise of attending and observing the Rite and all its ceremonies and celebrations for their new Illyrian warriors.

“I had Azriel scout the surrounding war camps, and he only picked up on a few of the details we already knew of. It seems they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut with their High Lord present,” He said, moving to press his nose against the hollow of my neck and inhaled my scent once again.

I giggled, tangling my fingers in his hair, “Stop trying to deflect, I want to know more about what happened.”

“So do I,” he breathed deeply, spreading his fingers out on my stomach again as if he were still trying to inspect it.

I furrowed my brow, “Why do you keep touching my stomach and smelling me?”

“Now who’s deflecting?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he said, raising his head to look at me. “You were sick while I was gone, and lied to me about it. Now I’m back and your scent is off, I’m trying to figure out why.”

“I didn’t lie,” I muttered, avoiding his consuming gaze for a minute before eventually meeting his eyes; nothing but sheer worry lined them and I sighed, “I was only sick for a few days. It started the night I woke up from that nightmare and puked my guts up. The next day I was sick to my stomach for a few hours, and it was on-and-off for a few days after. I’ve been really tired ever since, but the puking stopped two days ago.”

He frowned, “What could have possibly made you sick?”

I shrugged, “You know how many children I’m around during my painting lessons at the studio. Odds are one of them had something I caught. But I’m fine now, really,” I promised.

His shoulders relaxed a bit, but his hand remained on my stomach, “That doesn’t explain why your scent would be different.”

“Are you saying I smell bad?” I pretended to be hurt.

“Well…” he grinned mischievously as I rolled my eyes and tried turning away from him, but his strong arms kept me in place gently. “Maybe it has to do with our mating bond. A sick female would alarm her mate via her scent.”

“Well there you go. Now that I’m getting better, my regular old scent will come back,” I said, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face.

He chuckled, his nose returning to the soft hollow at the base of my neck “Maybe you’re pregnant.”  

I rolled my eyes; he liked to make that joke every time I so much as yawned or expressed any mild manner of fatigue. “I’m not pregnant,” I reluctantly admitted, “I’m due for my cycle in a couple of weeks, if anything that’s probably why I’m still so drained.”

“Should I send for Madja?” He asked, half serious.

I shook my head, “We don’t need to bother her every time my cycle returns, Rhys.”

“You say that every time, and every time she ends up prescribing pain relieving tonics and a slew of herbal teas,” he reasoned, his finger tracing lazy circles around my navel once again.

I smiled, “Which is why I stocked up last time she was here, so don’t call her.”

He sighed reluctantly, but I felt his smile on my skin as he pressed a kiss to the spot, “Fine, but I reserve my right to take care of you.”

I nodded and placed a hand on his chin, tilting his head up in a gesture which he immediately responded to by joining our lips in another deep kiss. “I guess I can deal with that,” I allowed.

He chuckled darkly as he moved from my lips and down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses. I sighed deeply, wanting to give in to another round with him, but I needed to know more about the war camps.

“Did Cassian and Azriel stay behind this morning?” I asked him.

I blinked in alarm at his feral growl as he heard their names, his hands holding me a little more protectively, which seemed to shock him as well. He cleared his throat, “Yes, but they’ll return this afternoon,” he said quietly.

“Rhys,” I began, but he shook his head in apology.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what that was,” he said, true remorse behind his words.

“You haven’t acted this way since we were newly mated,” I said with a frown; now it was my turn to be concerned.

He nodded in agreement, “I know. I think after our time apart, some of my primitive instincts have returned,” he admitted sheepishly.

I smiled in understanding, “I guess this means you’re not allowed to be apart from me for this long ever again.”

“I don’t want to be overbearing,” he divulged, and I knew the thought troubled him.

I shook my head, “You’re not. I didn’t enjoy our time apart anymore than you did,” I reassured, running my hands down his arms before adding “And when you came back...well, you saw how eager I was.”

His feline smile sent my heart fluttering wildly, and I felt that subtle glimmer return at my core for a few seconds. Rhys must have felt it too, because his hand returned to its place on my stomach, “Ever since I felt that tremor between us, my instincts have been heightened. It took everything in my power not to winnow back home to you that night,” he explained.

“It’s probably because I was sick,” I reasoned. “If your innate fae instincts tell you your mate is sick and you can’t tend to them, of course those possessive feelings return.”

He didn’t seem to be that satisfied with my explanation, still ashamed of his behavior, but he nodded. His eyes glanced down at his hand, that earlier scrutiny lining his eyes again. Before I could press him about it, he leaned in to kiss me and sighed deeply.

“Still, I promise I’ll do my best to repress them. Will you bear with me in the meantime?” He asked solemnly.

I nodded, giving him another reassuring smile. “As long as you bear with mine,” I said quietly, shifting my weight in his arms so I could hover over him.

That mischievous grin returned to his handsome face as I straddled him, but faltered when my stomach growled. “Maybe we should have some breakfast first,” he suggested, hands gripping my waist lightly to nudge us apart.

I didn’t budge, instead nipping at a particularly tender spot on his neck that I frequently favored. “Later,” I breathed, a hand dragging down his chest lightly.

He agreed with a groan and leaned his head back as he yielded to my touch.