#not to confuse people and make folks think there were like files for her voice

[centeris2]

eh this is what I get for taking so long to finish a project

(rip that Dark Core Day video project from like two years ago now that has Chiyo's art and voice, which is now outdated, I guess. But that's just how sso is)

[out-with-the-boys]

The Dance- Chapter 04

Homelander x Supe OC

Notes: 18+ No warnings apply for this chapter. Each chapter will have individual content warnings as they apply to avoid spoilers. Find this work on AO3. Tumblr master post here.

Previous chapter.

“Jesus, you’re really milking that bank thing for all it’s worth, aren’t you.” Homelander snorted, his thinly veiled annoyance tinted with amusement. “It’s been what, a week and you’re doing another interview for some podunk news station out in ass-fuck nowhere?”

“I can’t help that people are still talking about it.” Morgan said with a slight shrug and the most unabashed of grins. “Besides, I’m not about to tell the folks back home in Osage County no when they ask to do a remote interview. I’ve got to rub my success in Kathy Miller’s face. She was relentlessly mean to me from the time we were in middle school.”

“Oh, so ‘Saint Psyren’ isn’t above petty grudges then?” he scoffed, leaning against the elevator wall, folding his arms over his chest. “And here I thought you were better than the rest of us.”

Morgan’s lips bowed into a tight, impish grin as she fluttered her lashes at him.

“To err is human.” she sang as the elevator chimed, the doors opening up to the 99th floor. The crinkle of his nose told her everything she needed to know about how he felt about that sentiment. Backing out of the elevator to give him a clear view of her cheeky expression, she bumped lightly into a passing figure and let out a slight yelp.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” she gasped whirling around to make sure she hadn’t knocked anybody over. “I should have–”

Freezing, she felt as if the proverbial rug beneath her feet had been viciously yanked out from beneath her.

“Oh my god, Morgan?” 

She knew those big, brown puppy dog eyes. He had a few lines on his face that hadn’t been there the last she saw him. Standing there, holding a file in one hand and looking just as startled as she was, was Charlie. 

Her Charlie.

“Ch-Charlie, what the hell are you doing here?” she stammered, her voice breaking slightly.

Charlie’s brows raised, white-knuckling the file in his hand as if it was the only thing anchoring him down. His eyes darted toward Homelander before settling back on Morgan, his expression a confusing tangle of surprise and something else...something more vulnerable.

“You two know each other?” Homelander asked, a wolfish grin curling like smoke at the edges of his lips as he watched Morgan squirm.

“Ah we–”

“We were married.” Charlie interrupted.

“Briefly.” Morgan added sharply as she stiffened.

Homelander glanced between Morgan and Charlie, his eyes shimmering with a disquieting glee. His toothy grin evoked an image of a great white smelling blood in the water in Morgan’s mind. She had fought to build herself up as his equal. She wasn’t going to allow him to get under her skin–except… Except now he was just given an uncomfortably close view of the soft spot in her otherwise impregnable armor.

Morgan’s heart pounded against her ribcage as the silence seemed to stretch on impossibly long between them. She could feel Homelander’s eyes boring into her, waiting, savoring her discomfort. As her chest pulled tight she fought to find words that would defuse a potentially explosive situation. 

The last time she’d seen Charlie, they hadn’t parted on even remotely good terms. She had walked away from that life, I didn’t even think twice about looking back. Charlie’s gaze—familiar yet so distant was enough to raise her hackles.

“Never thought I’d run into you again.” Morgan said with a forced geniality that was laced with an undercurrent of resentment. 

“Ah, yeah,” Charlie agreed with a breath of forced laughter. “Well, I’m in finance here at the tower. When I heard you’d joined The Seven, I had to wonder how long it would take for us to run into each other.”

“Oh, I thought you looked familiar!” Homelander said, laying on a thick layer of insincere enthusiasm. “You gave that riveting presentation on budget cuts last quarter.”

Charlie’s brow crinkled slightly, unsure if he should take the compliment at face-value or not. There was a dark corner in Morgan’s heart that found a perverse sense of satisfaction in seeing him try to stomach being talked down to. Not many people could have outmatched Charlie’s ego back then.

“I am frankly shocked that you remember.” Charlie laughed apprehensively. “Those meetings are like chloroform disguised as Powerpoint slides.”

Barking a laugh that was far too mirthful for what Morgan thought Charlie’s attempt at humor deserved, Homelander clapped a hand on his shoulder. It was hard to tell if the force of the gesture had jostled him, or if Charlie had flinched. Either way the interaction was growing increasingly awkward, and Morgan felt the slightest twinge of pity for him.

“Well, Charlie,” she cut in sharply, “don’t let us keep you from saving the Tower with those budget cuts. The Big Guy and I have places to be right now anyway.”

“She’s right, Champ .” Homelander sighed, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. “I hate to cut this sweet, little reunion short, but we do need to be in the Conference Room in a couple minutes here. Somebody has to keep the revenue rolling in so you don’t have to work so hard on cutting spending.”

“Right, you guys have the real important jobs.” Charlie said, nodding, his gaze drifting back toward Morgan. “We couldn’t do ours without you.”

“And don’t you forget it!” Homelander said, leaving Charlie unsure if it was simply friendly banter, or some sort of threat. 

Shifting slightly toward the elevator, Charlie swallowed hard and nodded. Even without looking into Charlie’s mind, Morgan could tell just how badly he wanted to escape. Though, he paused again, his eyes lingering on hers.

“It’s good to see you moved onto bigger and better things.” Charlie said, his voice soft and more sincere than Morgan would have expected from him. “I’m glad we ran into each other.”

Morgan blinked, dipping into his thoughts just enough to hear his regrets bubbling just under the surface. Some part of her was touched that he still thought of her fondly, lamenting how she was ‘the one that got away.’ In the very same breath, however, there wasn’t a shred of accountability from him. 

Lips pressing into a thin line, her posture deflated to a small degree. In his mind, the worst day of her life had been reframed into ‘a blessing in disguise.’

As the doors to the elevator slid open, he cast one last glance over his shoulder. “Always a pleasure to see you, Homelander.” he added quickly with a half-smile.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine.Try not to let those budget cuts keep you up at night, Champ." He winked, the grin on his face a stark contrast to the cold schadenfreude gleaming behind his eyes.

 Charlie swallowed hard, trying to keep his expression neutral, but Morgan could see a shadow of discomfort cross over his face just before the elevator doors shut behind them. Jaw tensing, Morgan tried not to look over at Homelander as he hovered a little closer to her side. For just a split second, she couldn’t help but cast him a sidelong glance.

His Cheshire grin made him look every bit like the cat that swallowed the canary.

“I don’t want to hear it.” she grumbled, brows knitting together. “Don’t say it, don’t think it, just… don’t .”

Pivoting sharply on her heels, she stalked down the hallway toward the conference room. Even if she cared enough to try and outpace him, she knew she couldn’t. Within a few strides he was already at her side again, grinning that stupid, self-satisfied grin at her.

“You didn’t mention you were a divorcée.” He murmured in a conspiratorial tone. “What happened there? Did he break your heart? Was it another woman? Or was it one of those ‘hashtag-girlboss’ moments where you realized that you’re ‘a strong independent woman that doesn’t need to be collared and leashed by an impotent, whiny douchebag’ like that?”

“No, I just got bored.” Morgan lied flatly. “Men with superiority complexes and a tendency to overcompensate for certain… shortcomings are a real turnoff.” 

“Ah, so what I’m hearing is that you’ve always been a frigid bitch that refuses to come down from her high-horse.” he quipped.

Morgan halted in the wide doorway to the conference room, a scathing glare poised and ready for him as a prelude to him receiving a piece of her mind. 

“There they are,” an unfamiliar voice drawled. “Five bucks says they were fucking in the bathroom and almost forgot about us.”

Dead silence fell over the conference room as the gathered heroes of The Seven glanced between Homelander, Morgan and a woman dressed in a dark-colored supersuit. In a single blink, Morgan forgot about the verbal lashing she wanted to give Homelander and turned her ire elsewhere.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Morgan asked tersely.

“Ah, who am I kidding?” the newcomer scoffed with a dismissive wave. “I’m sure busting open that tin can is more trouble than it’s worth. Jesus, how long does it take you to get assembled in the morning there, Voltron?”

Maeve and Starlight exchanged glances with one another, but kept their general lack of amusement to themselves.

“Hold on there,” Homelander said, his eyes narrowing. “A member of The Seven asked you a question. I suggest you answer her.”

The dark-haired woman raised a brow, looking at Homelander with a certain appreciation that was not lost on Morgan. In any other situation that wouldn’t have bothered her. However, there was a distinct thought that accompanied the woman’s intense admiration for Homelander that turned Morgan’s stomach.

It was no secret that Vought would do anything to push their agendas, but this woman’s presence signaled a new level of depravity Morgan wasn’t ready to swallow.

“Can’t she just read–?”

“Stormfront.” Morgan cut her off, leveling her with a harsh, scrutinizing stare. “Mr. Edgar dragged her all the way from the Pacific Northwest to pad our numbers. Definitely an unequivocal departure from The Deep.”

Sitting forward in her seat, Stormfront gave a cloyingly demure smile and softly applauded Morgan.

“Wow, that must be a hit at parties!” she gasped with a melodrama that would have put her theater-teacher sister into an early grave. “Okay, I’m thinking a number between one and a hundred now. I’ll bet you already know what it is.”

Morgan held her gaze, saying nothing. Stormfront’s grin only widened as the silence stretched between them, her eyes flashing with a challenge.

“It sounds like Edgar’s been busy,” Homelander cut in, his voice taut. He took a step closer to Stormfront, his presence casting a long shadow over her. “Seems like I missed the memo again.”

Stormfront didn’t flinch. “Yeah, seems like. But hey, you’ll catch up in no time. You’re not gonna let Red here show you up, now are ya?”

Morgan recognized a bright, shiny lure when she saw one. There was no chance in hell Stormfront could entice her to take the bait though. Homelander, on the other hand, would fall hook, line and sinker for it given the right circumstances.

For the moment, however, he seemed to be taking a cue from her and didn’t dignify her subtle dig with a response. Staring down the slope of his nose at her, Homelander approached the seat at the head of the table beside her and took a seat. For him, taking his literal place in the center of the room was a powerful enough message.

Morgan grabbed the nearest chair and settled in next to Black Noir. She dreaded the energy Stormfront was set to introduce. It wasn’t that she was hard to get along with, or even a straight up nuisance, no–Stormfront was downright dangerous. 

As Stormfront opened her mouth–likely to make another smart remark– the clacking sound of high heels frantically approaching echoed in from the open doorway. Barreling through the hallway and into the conference room, Ashley looked like she was about five seconds away from having a manic meltdown. Just in the short time Morgan had been working alongside her, it surprised her that the woman hadn’t prematurely keeled over from a heart attack.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry I’m late!” she exclaimed, nearly colliding into the table as she juggled her tablet and folios full of various data sheets and talking points for each of them. “I just got out of a very exciting meeting with our writers and marketing department.”

As she passed out folios to each of the gathered heroes, all eyes were on Ashley with varying degrees of curiosity.

“I see you’ve all met our newest member, Stormfront.” she continued, nodding toward her with a wide grin. “She’s taking Deep’s seat, so when A-Train comes back we’ll officially have a full team of seven again. Which, don’t get me wrong, is very exciting news, but we realized something totally mind blowing this morning.”

Pausing for a short moment, Ashley looked at them all expectantly. When she was met with raised brows and silence, Morgan bit back a beleaguered sigh. Someone had to take pity on the poor woman and ask.

“What was your meeting about, Ashley?” Morgan asked with a convincing amount of eager curiosity. That was enough to bring a spark of actual warmth to her feverish smile. 

“Queen Maeve, Starlight, Psyren, Stormfront…” she addressed each of them with a nod, her excitement barely reigned in. “This is the first time in history that The Seven has had this many women on the team at a single time. You guys, right now the team is primarily women and we already have our slogan for the next quarter.”

There was a beat of silence as Ashley tapped away at her tablet to cast an image onto one of the many television screens that lined the room.

“ Girls get it done .” Homelander read the bold text aloud, a tight smile on his face. “Wow, that sure is something.”

“Aww, that’s darling!” Stormfront cooed, her mocking sarcasm about as subtle as the ostentatious costumes they all wore. “Oh, tell me you’ve already signed endorsement deals with tampax. That shit is gonna really make toxic shock syndrome look appealing.”

Morgan caught Maeve’s eyes from across the table before she gave them an enormous roll. Even Starlight’s polite smile looked like it was about to crumble. Morgan could understand their lack of enthusiasm for the performative and pandering campaign, but that was really the least of her concerns.

Her stomach gave a twist as her gaze fell back to Stormfront. Edgar, for some godforsaken reason Morgan had yet to understand, had drafted her to help lead this narrative. As much as Morgan wanted to believe that he didn’t know what skeletons lay in her new teammate’s closet, she couldn’t give him that benefit of doubt. That man never went into anything blind like that.

It was bad enough the Vought CEO had saddled her with being a glorified babysitter to one of the most dangerous people in the world. Throwing Stormfront into the mix really pinned her between a rock and a hard place now. Even weighing her options just briefly, she knew that, for now, she would have to play nice.

Simmering in her quiet outrage, Morgan couldn’t pay attention to anything else that was brought up after that. Morgan’s head bobbed automatically, when appropriate, as Ashley droned on, but her mind was far from the room. There had to be a way to put a stop to the inevitable madness before it could start.

The very second the meeting wrapped up, Morgan shot out of her chair and stalked toward Ashley. Poor Ashley didn’t even have time to look shocked by the time Morgan reached her. Gently, she took her by the elbow and directed her toward the side of the room.

“I need to speak to Mr. Edgar, immediately .” she informed her in a low, harsh murmur.

Ashley’s frazzled smile nearly cracked as she blinked at Morgan. Unconsciously, her shoulders tensed and she held her tablet tighter to her chest. 

“Oh, erm– Listen, Psyren, Stan is pretty busy right now.” Ashley laughed nervously. “He’s been dealing with some pretty high-priority stuff recently, but you’re more than welcome to bring up any concerns you have with me.”

Lips pressing into a thin line, Morgan quietly searched for any inkling in Ashley’s mind that she would know about Stormfront’s very storied history. Unsurprisingly, it seemed that Edgar had kept her in the dark on this one. A smart move on his part.

“No, this is about something he and I had discussed privately already.” Morgan said, her voice edged with exasperation. “I appreciate you offering to help, but I’ll just have to see if I can find a good moment to catch him later, I guess.”

“Maybe you could talk to him at the spring charity ball next week?” she offered, hoping that it would be enough to satisfy her. 

Before she could answer, Stormfront was calling for her from the doorway. “Hey Red! Don’t you have that zoom interview in a few minutes? Tell the folks back home in Ohio I say hi!”

Drawing in a deep breath, Morgan felt her temper surge beneath the placid surface of her cool exterior. Her job was going to be far more difficult than she initially anticipated.

Song: Shot Me Down by David Guetta, Featuring Skylar Grey Author’s notes: So, as far as the storyline goes, I decided to incorporate some of the story beats I liked from Season 2. As a disclaimer, I absolutely cannot stand Stormfront and everything she represents. However, I think she serves as the perfect rival for Morgan and that’s another dynamic I’m excited to play with. She’ll eventually get what’s coming to her, and I’m still speeding down these tracks, so hopefully we’ll get there in a timely manner. Thank you again for reading!

Next chapter.

[wordsfromthesol]

Hunted

Author: @wordsfromthesol​ Taglist: togasbetch malfoys-demigod pricetagofficial Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: You're a detective at Bludhaven PD with Dick Grayson and when a serial killer your after starts hunting you down, you have no choice but to ask for his help. Warnings: Kidnapping, stalking Word Count: 2.3k

You had been working at Bludhaven PD for about 2 years before the hotshot Dick Grayson came on the scene. Though you had grown into friends or at least friendly coworkers…he annoyed the shit out of you. After all, everything seemed to come so easy to the pretty boy Grayson and you could count the number of times you had actually seen him at the station on one hand. Thankfully this happened to be one of those times because you had run out of options.

"Dick, can I get your eyes on this case? I'm been staring at these files for hours and can't find the pattern. Yeah, they've obviously got a type. But that's not enough to go on."

Dick briefly runs through the file before staring blankly up at you. "You can't be serious, right? You need to take yourself off this case."

"People are dying, Dick." You had already assumed you would get some pushback from the star detective.

"I can't let you go after this guy. You're an exact match to all 5 people they've killed." Dick attempted to reason with you, to no avail.

"Then I'm the exact person who should go after this guy. Rather it be me than some civilian." Finally, Dick relented and gave you some useful information.

"Well…everyone was taken near an abandoned subway line." He takes out a highlighter and marks up the map. You tried to mask your nervousness as the bright yellow line stopped a block from your apartment.

"Thanks…I didn't even notice that." He nodded, still apprehensive about giving you the information, as he handed the file back to you. Tucking the papers away, you decided to finish up the research at home. 

As you sauntered home, you were barely able to keep your eyes open. Stopping at the crosswalk, you noticed a man staring at you in your peripheral vision. You swore he was the same man from five blocks ago. Surely you were just paranoid…right? You began weaving in and out of the crowd, making a complete circle back to the crosswalk. Yet there he was in the corner of your eye. This wasn't paranoia. This was real. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and pressed Dick's contact card.

"Hey, uhm…remember that case we were talking about today?"

"You mean literally 20 minutes ago? Yeah, I remember."

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips, "Well you were probably right." Dick could hear the shakiness in your voice.

"He's following you, isn't he?"

Your current situation momentarily left your mind as the words tumbled out of your mouth, bypassing the brain. "How the fuck could you possibly know that?!"

"Don't go home. I'm coming to get you." You wanted to plead with him to stay on the line, but your stubbornness got the best of you. Slowing your pace, you attempted to stay in the crowd and walked straight. How was Dick even going to find you? As soon as the thought danced across your mind, there he was, as if you summoned him from thin air.

"Y/N!" The familiar voice called out from the street. A deep sigh of relief flooded over you as you trotted over to him. Crawling on the back of the motorcycle, you didn't bother asking where he was taking you. Anywhere was better than here.

**

"Wow. Just wow." Dick shook his head in awe as he climbed off the bike, ushering you into the apartment building.

"It's not like I planned it." You tried to force the uneasiness from your voice.

"Right, of course not. You realize he had to have been following you for days now, right? He knows where you live. You can't go back there." You hadn't really thought about that, yet where were you supposed to go? You looked at him pensively, unable to form a proper sentence. "Looks like you're staying here then." The alacrity of the statement caught you off guard.

"I can't just --"

"Right right. So let's go antagonize the serial killer. Genius." The sheer amount of sarcasm took you aback, this was a completely different side of the infamous Dick Grayson than you were used to.

You glared at him as he opened the door to his apartment. "So dramatic…besides, someone has to stop him. He's already after me, so I'm the perfect bait."

Dick's eyes went wide. He looked at you like you had three heads before bellowing, "ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!"

"Do you have a better plan?" Part of you hoped he would begin rattling off some convoluted trap. One that didn't hold your life in the balance.

"Well…not yet. But I'm sure we can think of something. Give me a few days."

**

A few days came and went and you were losing your mind in Dick's apartment. The worst part was, you were never alone. Dick or one of his family members was always by your side. You weren't quite sure how some 14-year-old kid was supposed to do anything if said serial killer showed up, but Dick was insistent.

Finally, you caught a break. Jason, your latest babysitter got called away on some emergency and Dick wouldn’t be home for another hour. Of course, Jason informed you to tell Dick he left just moments ago, which actually worked in your favor. You dialed Captain Holt on your phone and began to strategize. The captain wasn't keen on using you for bait either, but eventually, you swayed him. Everything was planned to take place tomorrow afternoon, a time Dick just so happened to be testifying in court.

"Y/N?" The confusion spread across Dick's face as he opened the door.

"I'm here!" You called out from the bedroom before stepping into sight.

"Where's Jason?"

"Oh, family emergency. But he left like two minutes ago. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay…" Dick didn't sound convinced.

"I also got a call from the captain today. He wants to meet with me tomorrow at 2." You tried to play it off as a casual request, but you knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"What? Why? We still haven't caught the psychopath…plus I have court tomorrow."

"Dick, I'll be in a police station. You can drop me off on your way."

Dick let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine. But I don't like it."

**

You were absolutely terrified, but you tried your best not to let it show through. After all, you asked for this. Dick still seemed uneasy, even as he dropped you off at the precinct. You wondered if he could tell something was wrong. Though there wasn't much he could do at this point, considering he was due in court by noon.

"Y/N. Are you sure about this?" Captain Holt questioned as you walked into his office.

"No. But something needs to be done. This guy doesn't just give up. So either I'm bait and we have a chance at catching him, or I die a horrific death for no reason. Not the best of options."

Holt nodded in understanding, "Well everything is set up. We have snipers in position around the perimeter of your apartment and a dozen plain-clothed in the vicinity."

"So hopefully we have a chance. What about near the abandoned subway entrance? That's how Dick thinks he's staying out of sight."

"Covered. We are ready to go on your command. Though I still think Detective Grayson should be informed of the plan."

"He's in court. So he couldn't help out anyways. The fewer people that know, the better. Let's move."

**

You arrived at your apartment without any issues, though you could feel a million pairs of eyes on you. With everyone watching you, it would be hard to notice one more face. Nevertheless, you persisted, attempting to go about your day in your apartment. The apartment that now seemed so foreign to you, though you had only been unexpectedly ripped from it a week ago.

As the day went on you began to feel more and more lightheaded. Normally, you would chalk it up to stress, but given the situation, you decided otherwise.

"Captain…"

"There is still no sign of him," he ignored the strain in your voice.

"I think…he's already…here." A crashing sound was left ringing through the earpiece.

"I want everyone on her position now! Get me a visual!" Captain Holt's booming voice commanded those around him. "Where are my snipers?!" An eerie silence crept over the line. "Shit." He mumbled before pulling out his phone. The dial tone appeared to mock him until finally the other end picked up.

"What happened?" The stringent words reverberated in the air.

"He has her."

"Goddammit. How did he get her out of the precinct?" Dick didn't wait for an answer. "Because she wasn't in the precinct. How could you let her be bait? You've seen what this guy does!" The anger was bubbling up inside him. Out of everyone, why you. Why did he have to go after you?

"I know."

"How long? HOW LONG HAS HE HAD HER?!" Two cops turned towards Captain Holt as Dick's voice echoed from the speaker.

"About a minute. From her apartment." As soon as the word left his lips, the line went dead. Holt buried his head in his hands. If there was any hope of finding her, it was Dick Grayson.

**

You woke up in a cold, dark, concrete room. "Well, guess that didn't work out as planned…" You mumbled to yourself, or so you thought.

"Really? You thought a bunch of cops in blue jeans could stop me? I've been hunting you for months. Along with the others.  But you. You were my challenge. I memorized everything about you. Your favorite breakfast, your confidants, what time you call your family. Lovely little folks, by the way. And then you thought you could hideaway in that pathetic little Richard Grayson's apartment. The only reason I didn't take you then is because I didn't want to. What kind of challenge would that be? That would have diminished everything!" He carefully stepped around your chair, weaving your hair in and out of his fingers, until he turned to face you. "But now, here you are! My masterpiece! My coup d'etat!" His lips forced their way to yours. "Don't worry, my sweet. I'll take my time with you. After all, the grand finale demands perfection!" The crazed man turned on his heel and sauntered out of the room, leaving you with your own horrific thoughts.

It felt like hours had gone by before he returned. When he walked in, his eyes went immediately to your wrists and fingernails, which were now bloodied beyond recognition. "Now I wish you hadn't done that. Blood does not make for a spectacular fossilization." He walked around and surveyed the damage. "I guess it was to be expected though. After all, it wouldn't be fun without the challenge."

"You know, you keep saying that this is some big challenge, yet you gassed me and then tied me up. That doesn't seem like you are really challenging yourself."

"Simple-minded fool! Challenges are not always those of brute force. It took planning and timing to get you here. Those 4 snipers set up on the surrounding roofs? Had to get them out of the way. A delay in your communication device? Truly a necessity. And though you had the foresight to add a few men to the abandoned subway tunnel, they neglected to surveil the associated maintenance hatches. So you see, your perfect encapsulation proves to be quite the…" You noticed a slight furrow of his brow as the sentence broke. "Challenge. Now to finish preparing the resin!" Off he galloped, but you swore something was off. A slight change in his mood.

You heard several loud bangs before your captor fell backward through the door. Nightwing loomed over his grisly body. Then his eyes shot up towards you.

"I'm okay." The words were forced from your throat. With those two small words, Nightwing glared down towards the man and began throwing punch after punch. "STOP! Please!" You screamed out the words, shocked at the vigilante's ferocity. Nightwing's eyes slowly shifted towards you. It was as if a twinge of pain ran its way through his body as he crept towards you. Once close enough, his hands carefully cradled your face until finally, he spoke.

"I don't know what I would have done without you. Why did you do something so stupid?" You could tell he wanted to say the words out of anger, yet a euphoric aura surrounded them instead.

Still confused, you began to answer as he unbound your wrists and ankles. "He wasn't going to give up. This was our chance to catch him…"

"I would've found another way!" The words burst out of him louder than expected. Nightwing let out a sigh as he helped you out of the chair.

"Alright, Dick, I'm sorry." You glanced at him for a reaction...nothing. Worried he didn't hear you, you pushed the point further. "Guess I should be glad you weren't in court long."

Dick stopped in his tracks, finally realizing his mistake. "I…uh…left early." As the two of you got outside, there were a dozen cop cars already swarming the area. Two of the officers came up to meet you.

"Detective! Are you alright? What happened?!" The first began to raddle off questions, but Dick quickly deflected.

"You can find out later. I'm taking her to the hospital. Your man is inside, unconscious."

"I can still talk ya'know…" You mumbled as the officer ran off to inform the others of the new information.

"Yeah, but then you'd try to convince me not to take you to the hospital. And that's not going to happen. But don't worry, the captain is on his way there now. You'll get to regale the entire course of events with him."

It was almost scary how well he knew you. "You'll stay too?" The simple question caused an oversize grin to spread across his face, but all he did was simply nod.

[foodieforthoughts]

Journey through time - Part 3

Summary: Your relationship with Syverson over the years.

Warning: a little bit of angst and a lot of fluff. If you blink you might also see some smut.

A/N: Continuation to Part 2 of the photo series. Here's a link to Part 1 too. Thank you all for reading. I love you guys 😘♥️

Staying alone in Sy's house gave you an opportunity to find out more about your man. You were cleaning his study when you found a box shoved at the very back of a drawer with pictures inside. The first picture was a black and white photo of young Sy, probably in his early twenties. It looked like a candid picture, clicked by someone who must have attentively watched him while he read through some papers. As you rummaged through the box, you found a couple more candid pictures and a hand written letter addressed to Sy.

The box also contained polaroid pictures of a much older Sy. You picked up the one which looked fairly recent, maybe from only a couple of years ago. He had his signature beard, dressed in his suit with his smoldering eyes staring back at you. Behind were the words, "I count myself as extremely fortunate to have accompanied you on your big night, my love." Signed only as "M". You got the sinking gut feeling that it was from an ex-girlfriend, but what affected you more was that Sy had kept her things still.

Opening the letter and finding another picture inside, you took a moment to look at your man. You had no clue who were those people with him in the picture which only made you realise how little you knew about Sy. The letter mentioned how the person felt like they weren't a part of Sy's life anymore. "I invested too many years to be with you and yet I am here, all alone. I can't take it anymore." It read, continuing to jot down ways in which the person felt lonely while Sy was away and that is why she was deciding to break off their relationship. Your hear sank as you read it over and over again, noting how the edges of the paper was crumbled from being opened too many times. Keeping the box back in its place, you couldn't help but think back on everything that was mentioned as the silence in the big house seemed to envelope you.

You stared at your computer screen showing that you were online, waiting for the green dot to appear on Sy's image signifying that he was online on Skype too. It was your birthday tonight and before leaving, Sy had promised he would have long distance birthday dinner with you over video call. You had cooked his favorite recipe of Sloppy Joe's and got his favorite beer brand, even if you hated the taste of it. Your wait for a few minutes turned to hours with your food gone cold and beer turned warm. You looked at the screen, noting that it was past midnight now and your birthday was over. You couldn't help but cry when you shut down your computer, leaving your food on the table untouched and crawling into bed while thinking back on the letter and imagining if this is exactly how the other girl might have felt.

You sucked in a deep breath before receiving the video call from Sy. It was unexpected and unplanned, but it made your heart swell when his face appeared on the screen. Sy did not smile, he looked lost and deep in thought. Even with the awful quality of the call, you noticed the new scars on his face and how he looked like he had aged over a decade. Your talks were formal, mostly asking about how the other had been, general talk about health and wellbeing. But then you couldn't help but blurt out, "You missed my birthday." Sy sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, "I'm sorry but I had a rough week." You wanted to be understanding but the letter kept repeating its words in your mind and when you looked around, you only saw the emptiness. "But you had promised about dinner on my birthday." In an instant, Sy's voice came out like rumbling thunder. "If you want someone to be at your beck and call, maybe you should think what the hell are you doing with me. I can't be there all the time, I have a job to do here." His roaring voice came out loud from your speakers, bringing tears in your eyes. Anger and sadness mixed together and with a trembling voice, you said, "Maybe I really should think what I'm doing with you. Goodbye, Sy." You disconnected the call with painful heaviness in your heart.

Over the next weeks, you got several calls from Sy but you only spoke to him asking him about his health. The moment he would try to talk about what happened over the video call, you would change the subject. Then one day you got a video message sent to you by Sy. It was being filmed by someone else while Sy stood with a spray painted green German Shepherd. You watched as Sy instructed the dog called "Aika" to fetch a writing pad with papers stuck to it from the steps of the building and turn it around to face the camera. Sy crouched down next to Aika and the first paper read, "I'm very sorry about missing your birthday." He turned the sheet of paper over and the next one had "I'm sorry about acting like a dick the other night." When he turned the paper again, it read in bold letters, "I love you and I don't want to lose you." You felt the stinging feel of tears in your eyes as Sy came forward and spoke directly into the camera, "Dinner with me tonight? I'll make up for everything, I promise." Before the video cut, you heard men laughing in the background with someone shouting, "Captain's so whipped!" and imitating the sound of a whip slashing through the air.

That night, dinner was less about eating and more about sharing your feelings. Sy listened to how you felt about him missing your birthday, apologising profusely about it and telling you he'll make up for it when he gets back. But you felt like a bitch when he told you about his week and how he had lost two of his men during an attack on them. It was now your turn to apologize with tears in your eyes as you imagined losing Sy. You didn't want to ruin the mood but you had to ask about the box. "Who's M, Sy?" You watched as his expression had turned solemn and he had sighed heavily. "I take that you found the box? She was my girlfriend before you. We had been together since college and I won't lie, I really wanted to marry her. But, I couldn't give her the kind of life she wanted." You could hear the sadness in his voice while he spoke. "Do you still love her?" he answered in an instant, "Of course not! I love you, babe. I want no one but you. You can even throw away the box if you want, I just never got back to it and throw it away myself." He then proceeded to tell you he wanted to make you feel his love and explained what he had planned, which made you blush but reluctantly you obliged. Even with the distance of many, many miles between the two of you, you pleasured one another over the call while repeatedly professing how much you loved each other.

You had bounced on your feet nervously while watching the arriving flights displayed on the screen. Sy was coming home and your excitement knew no bounds. His tour had been extended by four more weeks which meant you hadn't seen him in person for almost half a year. But family came first so when he had asked if he could go directly to Austin to meet his folks, you hadn't objected. "What's one more week until I meet you?" You had joked although deep down you craved to be in his arms again. When newly arrived passengers started filing out through the doors, your heart drummed in your chest with anticipation. You nearly skipped a beat when Sy walked out the door with his bags, thinking about the time when many months ago you had bumped into him at this very airport, searching through the crowd for you. His bearded face broke out into a huge smile when he spotted you and you almost made a run for him, launching yourself into his arms while planting kisses all over his face. "God, I missed you so much." He said, hugging you tightly to his chest and not letting go of you for a long time.

The very next day, Sy had taken you out for dinner at the most fancy restaurant in town. You noticed how he was fidgety and nervous, looking at his watch several times. It worried you even more when for the third time that night, he excused himself and left the table. You wondered if he was sick but then were left confused when all of a sudden the speakers started playing the familiar tune of your favorite romantic song. You looked around puzzled but was taken by surprise when Sy walked to you and dropped down on one knee. With a tender smile on his lips he said, "I never knew what I really wanted from my life until I met you. Countless times I have prayed to the heavens for making you bump into me on that day. I was at the right place at the right time, for I met the most amazing and beautiful woman on this planet." You felt you heart pick up a pace knowing exactly what Sy was going to do. Fishing out a blue velvet box from his pocket and opening it to reveal a magnificent diamond ring, Sy continued, "Darlin' will you marry me and make me the luckiest man alive?" There was no hesitation in your voice when you nodded fervently and repeated "yes" several times, hugging and kissing Sy before he placed the ring on your finger while everyone around clapped for the two of you.

Continued to Part 4

[brittlecakes92]

Kabal x reader

I couldn’t think of a good title for this so.. you know!! Just a little background, I know a lot of this is just going to seem randomly thrown together in terms of plot.. but does Smut really need a plot? Well, kinda. Just enjoy the ride! Lol It is a long one folks!! Thank you for reading, it means a lot! The hum of the fluorescent lights filled the silence in the small room you and Kabal were seated in. You could understand why Kabal of all people would be in an interrogation room of the special forces, but you, that went beyond you. Kabal did his best to keep you out of getting mixed up with his work detail. You looked over at the man in question a scowl on your face, for more then one reason. Tapping your foot out of impatience, and honestly not wanting be close to him right now your heart couldn't help but thump faster when he looked up jos eyes connecting with yours. He was leaning forward, his elbows resting across his knees. He let out a sigh before he spoke, annoyance written all over his face, annoyance and exhaustion. The on going fight between you both was taking its toll on him.  "Are you still mad at me, it's been a week." His voice came out calm, a little hoarse. You raised your eyebrows at him, you parted your lips before glaring at him.  "She sent you three nudes, that you so happened to open and not tell her  to stop. So yes, I would like to think I am still mad at you."  Who is the mysterious girl in question you ask? None other then Seerena. You knew Kabal pined after her for a while, but you thought all that stopped when you two got together. She did nothing but use him, lead him on, and put him in very bad and very dangerous situations. Kabal let out an irritated sigh before straightening up in his seat. "It's not like that at all, I-" He was interrupted from trying to explain himself for the umpteenth time by the rusted screech of metal indicating that someone was entering the room. Both of you turned your attention to the entrance when you heard the scrap of the metal door slide across the concrete floor. A blonde woman, that Kabal immediately rolled his eyes and scoffed at entered the room, followed by two operatives, armed with  riffles and keeping their eyes trained on a smug looking Kabal. Sonya walked to the table that sat in the center of the room, slapping a manila folder down on it before scooting back the chair and taking a seat. Kabal raised his brow at the blonde in question, his face stony.   "Yeah, I'm not to thrilled with this either Kabal." She spoke, giving the same amount of disdained that was given to her.  "Why are we here then? I have much better things to do then waste my time with you trying to get hot juicy gossip from me." He shot back, crossing his arms out of annoyance. Sonya opened up the folder before sliding it across the table, resting her elbows on the cold metal before lacing her fingers together, resting her chin on them.  Kabal reached out for a photo, giving a sarcastic laugh at the imagine of the man. He knew very well who was in the picture. It was Simons, a competitor to the black dragon. Throwing down the picture he gave an annoyed sigh.  "It would seem we have found somebody worse than the black dragon- Sonya stated sarcastically- Seems he is trying to place his mark on the market, and doing whatever he can to out do you goons." She stated, smirking at the annoyed look that claimed Kabals face. "What does that have to do with us?" He asked curtly. Kabal was not in the mood to give out any free information, he didn’t want you involved and he didn't want to get involved in something that had nothing to do with him. "I can't believe the words that are about to come out of my mouth, we need your help Kabal. Yours and Y/n." Kabals mood turned dangerous at the mention of your name. You had nothing to do with any of this, and he didn't want you dragged into anything unnecessary, his quick movement causing the operatives to aim their guns at him. Sonya raised a hand, commanding the to stand down.  You raised a brow at Kabal before turning your confused face to Sonya. Your gaze turned to the men that finally put down their guns and you let out a breath you were holding. You knew Kabal could hold his own, but you didn’t have to see it. "We need both of your help to infiltrate a gathering and collect intel." She started. Kabal scoffed before rolling his eyes.  "Why would we do that, exactly?" He and Blade weren't exactly on good terms, enemies would be a better way to describe their relationship. "Well, for starters you wouldn't draw too much attention going into a ratty party like this. And two, y/n isn't involved in any of this, which is a very good thing for us. She can get inside without too much suspicion."  "You've lost your fucking mind. Like hell I would let her do that!" Kabals voice raising and the chair scooted back harshly against the concrete floor. You looked between the both of them before speaking up.  "What's the plan exactly?" Both of them turned their attention to you this time, Kabal looked lost at your question, his face falling as he squinted at you and opened his mouth to ask if you’ve lost your mind.  "You can't be serious. This guy is bad news, this isn’t something you need to volunteer yourself for." He started and you rolled your eyes at him before turning your attention to Sonya.  "It seems our new friend like to make trades, this one specifically is in the human trafficking trade. We need you to go into the party, We have someone planned to escort you in as your date that can get all the intel that we need, and Kabal will accompany you and act as your bodyguard. We can't exactly enter, so we will be ready and waiting with back up from a safe distance."  She took a breath moving the file closer to your hand. Opening it you began to scan through the information and the pictures. "This is him?" You asked sliding the picture across the table towards her. She nodded her head, raising a brow in the process. Kabal was seething with anger at this point. Being ignored by you, then getting yourself involved in something reckless. He did it, but he could also protect himself. You on the other hand, the thought alone made him mad to even think about if something happened. You took a minuet before giving an answer, chewing on the inside of your cheek. "I'll do it." Kabal clenched his fists in anger, turning to you when everyone left the room. "Have you lost it? I know your upset with me right now, but this goes beyond the point of getting back at me" He left his seat, walking over to where you sat, hovering over you at this point. "You lost the right to have any say after your little texting fiasco." You reminded him before standing up and moving to push past him. Reaching out he grabbed a hold of your arm, holding you in place. "I told you it was nothing. She sent me the messages. I would never entertain the thought. When are you going to stop holding this over my head" He started his voice sounding hurt that you wouldn't let this go.  "Well, you should have told her the first time she sent you a message, instead of having me feel like I am not enough." Kabals eyes widened in shock, his heart hurt hearing that, Jerking your arm out of his hold you pushed past him before walking out of the door .Kabal wasn't an idiot, he knew he fucked up, He didn’t want you to ever feel the way you were. The tension between you two had grown so thick you could cut it with a knife, and he had to relieve it before anything happened. Later that night.. You finished fixing your hair when Sonya  entered the room you were occupying to get ready. "I wanted to thank you for doing this. I know we are asking a lot, especially for the person we are asking you to help out with.  We know if  something gets bad Kabal would get you out no matter what." Sonya stated you turned to look at her before giving a small smile.  Sonya raised a brow at you before leaning back against the wall.  "If it helps."  She wasn't stupid, and could tell something was bothering you/ "What did he do?" She asked, moving to sit in the empty chair across from you, arms crossed. You let out a sigh before telling her about the Seerena incident. The nudes, and the fight that happened between the both of you. "Kabal may be stupid -Sonya started before raising her brows and giving a disbelieved look- but when it comes to you he is protective and knows he has a good woman, I don't see him doing anything to jeopardize what he has with you" She shook her head before standing up  and heading to the door.  "I can't believe I just took up for him of all people." She mumbled before leaving the room. Shaking your head you took a deep breath thinking she had a point, but it still hurt. Maybe it was time to let it go and talk to him. Taking a breath, you put in your earrings before standing up and giving yourself a once over. You needed to talk to him before everything started.  Kabal straightened out his tie and cleared his throat, watching as Sonya and was talking to a man that he assumed was the person that was going to escort you. He was tall, black hair, piercing blue eyes. He was good looking, and it made the agitation he felt even worse. He glared at him, his arms crossed over his chest. Paying little mind to the conversation at hand, Kabal kept his eyes on the hallway, waiting for you to come out. The man approached him. "So, you are the bodyguard for tonight?" Kabal raised a brow and looked to the right to stare at him from the corner of his eyes. "My priority is my girl that you are escorting. You are nothing more to me then that. If anything goes sour, your ass is grass." Kabal wasn't in the mood to hold a conversation with the man and he turned his eyes back to the hall. The man that would be escorting you stood straight, his hands in front of him. the left hand resting on his right wrist as he waited.   when he heard the man let out a low whistle, he slowly turned his head towards him, thoughts of his murder on his mind. Kabal turned back to see you, his breath catching in his throat as he saw you standing in the entrance way. He slowly uncrossed his arms as he took in your form. You wore a black velvet halter top dress, with a slit that ran down to your sternum. Your hair was put up into a sleek bun, your bangs swept to the left of your forehead, falling above your eyebrow. The way Kabals heart began to race, and the hungry look in his eyes when he made contact with yours, was all you needed to feel the same emotions he felt in the instance. Taking a breath you walked into the room towards Kabal, but stopped short when the man had stepped in front of you. Taking your hand into his, he brought it up towards his face, pressing his lips to the back of it in a gentle kiss. "I didn't realize they picked such a breath taking woman for me to accompany." Kabal wanted to take his hook sword to the man and make quick work of him. His blood boiling with him ogling you like that. You were his, and he wasn’t  afraid to let that man know.  "Hands off, pretty boy." He warned grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.  "Play nicely." You commented, placing a hand on Kabals forearm, making him release the man. When he let him go, you moved to stand between them running your hand up his chest, before interlocking your arms with the mans. "I'm sorry about that." Straightening out his suit he cut his eyes at Kabal, before placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you away to where Sonya and the rest of the special forces waited. Kabal gave you an incredulous look, were you trying to get under his skin. He wanted to show you what happens when you tease him, he wanted to pound that lesson into you and make sure you wouldn't forget it any time soon. The though alone sending blood to his cock that started to strain against his pants. Sonya began to explain the mission and what everyone was supposed to be doing. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you felt Kabals eyes on you. Looking out the corner of your eyes you could see him, looking a you like a hungry animal who had been starved. The look along causing your breath to hitch in your throat. The feelings that started to blossom in your stomach, the tingle of your vulva making your rub your thighs together to get some relief from the throb that started. Kabal knew that look all too well, he knew you body like that back of his hand, he knew the effect he had on you, one look getting you frustrated. It had been a long week of nothing but pent up frustration for the both of you, and Kabal was ready to cut it down. He thought about all the ways he wanted to make you scream, to hear you pant and beg for him. He ran his tongue on the inside of his cheek before trying his best to listen to what Sonya was saying. More pressing matters took his mind over the mission at hand. He adjusted the white collar of his shirt before clearing his throat and shifting, he was starting to get impatient.  Kabal glanced over and watched as the man started to lower his hand closer to your ass. The audacity made Kabal want to cut his hands clean off before anyone knew what happened. Ready to teach the guy a lesson on not to touch what is his. He wanted to take you right here and now to prove his point. His agitation turned into antsyness as he waited for Sonya to finish giving the briefing. You and your escort had a vehicle parked out front waiting to take you to your destination. Kabal was to ride up front to keep an eye on the ride there. You could feel anxiety sit on your stomach, this was about to happen. You didn't have time to think before you were being whisked to the vehicle. You peered behind you to see Kabal watching you before he fell into step behind you. The chill of the night hit you, and out of instinct your brought your arms closer to your body, shrinking into yourself to get some heat. You heard the click of your door opening, and sliding into the seat, you pushed up with your hands to adjust and get into a more comfortable position. When you heard your door close, confusion crossed your features when you heard the other door close as well. Turning your head you didn't have time to process what was happening when you felt warm lips quickly claim yours, a hand caressed your cheek, holding you in place. You pushed against the man, when he let up relief flooded your face when you realized it was Kabal. Before any words could be spoken your balled the collar of his shirt into your fists and you pulled him towards you once more, your lips claiming his. Kabal towers over you, caging you with his body. You could feel his left hand start to trail from the curve of your breast all the way down to your thigh. Your hand reaching up to rest on his cheek and you both refused to break the connection from each other. You moaned into the kiss, conveying all the hunger you had for him. Kabal Squeezed your thigh before pulling it straight out, resting it across his lap, causing you to lay down to get in a more comfortable position. Kabal broke the kiss first, both of you panting for breath as his eyes bore into your with a hunger you had grown to love. You tilted your head up, trying to bring your lips back together, your mouth falling open when you felt him move his hand to the inner part of your thigh, the sensation alone making you wetter then you already were. You could feel his finger tip ghost between your slit, a low groan leaving his lips. "No panties baby girl?" The husky tone in his voice caused chills to explode up your arms. Grabbing the calf of your left leg he brought it up until your knee bent, never breaking eye contact with you. you felt as his fingers rolled over your clit, removing your hand from his cheek you quickly covered your mouth, your other hand trying to find purchase on the closed window frame. Your stomach already tightening up and the sensation that set your blood on fire. Kabal was having none of it, he wanted to hear you sing your praises to him. Moving his finger to your opening he inserted his middle and ring finger into you, curling his fingers up wards with each thrust in. 'Fuck' It came out in a wanton voice, your fingers on the door clenching, desperate to hold on to anything, the moans leaving your mouth causing Kabal to become even more transfixed on you. He wanted more. Kabal not able to get over the needy look on your face, Sensual and desperate for him, it made him work his fingers faster. Your body writhes below him and he never brakes eye contact with you as he worked you over with his fingers, you could feel his erection push against the curve of your ass, wiggling it on him for good measure. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, your heart racing so quick you thought it was going to burst. You were so close, your whole body tingling with the need for release. The sensation becoming so intense you reached down you grabbed the wrist of the fingers inside of you, trying to find anything to hold onto for the release that was coming closer and closer to wracking your body. You moved to sit up and Kabal pushed you back down, removing your hand from his. He shook his head, his free hand moving up to rest around your neck, giving a slight squeeze, he leaned down until your noses brushed together. "Not a good idea princess, you are going to ride this out." You nodded your head and your breath started to become more labored, Kabal ghosted his lips over yours and you tried to lean up to connect them. Your hand moving up and down his chest before trailing lower. You wanted him to feel good too, desperate to reach his throbbing cock. When you finally found the delicious prize you were looking for, you began to rub it, getting a breathy moan out of Kabal, he took a deep shuttering breath, before moving the hand from your neck to your breast, taking it out he squeezed it before running his tongue around the bud. His teeth clenched around it, he started to lick it in quick strokes, before sucking on your nipple, pulling his head back, you heard it 'pop' when he removed it from his mouth. "Cum for me, I need you come for Daddy." You nodded your head, and Kabals name left your mouth as a mantra. Your toes curled, your leg staying open only from Kabal holding it, Cupping Kabals cheek you brought his lips to your, holding the sides of his face with both of your hands, taking deep breaths to calm your heart. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you pushed Kabal back so his shoulders were touching the seat. He watched you with a raised brow as you worked your leg out from behind him, and moved in the cramped area to straddle him. Grabbing the flaps of his dress coat you pulled him forward until you nose brushed against his. "It's Daddies  turn for release now." Pushing up on your knees you reached down and made quick work of his button, sliding your hands into the now opened space, your fingers made room to wrap around the warm, smooth flesh of his cock. You twisted your hand carefully, watching as the small movement alone made Kabal throw his head back, resting it against the back seat and his started up, dazed before closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath. You tugged at his pants trying to get them down, Kabal realizing your struggle for the moment sat up, quickly reaching down to help you pull them to the top of his knees. Moving the slit of your dress to the side, you guided his erect cock to your entrance, lowering down, you stopped when his head pushed past your lips, kissing your entrance. Bracing your hands on his shoulder you drew Kabals attention to you. "Who's is it Kabal?" Your voice taking a serious tone as your eyes, lidded with lust, bore into his. He knew what you were playing at, and if this is what put it to an end, and the way for you believed him, he was going to do anything, if that meant worshiping your body, praising you, and telling you what you both already knew, he would do it.  "All yours.." His voice was husky. He closed his eyes and breathed deep through his nose as you took him in more. "Whos pussy drives you wild?" You slowly gyrated your hips, Kabals head flinging back before he could composed himself and lifted it back up to face you. "Yours.. only yours baby girl." His hands moved down to grip your hips, his thumbs causing a tickling sensation on them as he moved them up and down to keep himself focused. You sunk lower, his girth stretching you out deliciously, the sensation causing your lips to fall open as your rolled your head back. You brought your eyes back to him. His eyes were pleading with you, he needed to move, to be bottomed out inside of you. He couldn't handle this, he needed to be deep into you. "Could Seerena ever do this for you?" Kabal moved his hands down to cup your ass, his forearms on the small of your back pulling you closer towards him. He shook his head no. "Never.." Before he could say anything else, you caught his lips in a hungry kiss as you took him completely. Catching your breath you began to bounce in his lap. Leaning forward Kabal nipped at your collar bone, his tongue trailing in between the valley of your breasts. Your hands moved to the back of Kabals head, your fingers lightly grasping onto him as you rode him. Kabal watched you as you took charge, his chest tightened with pride, you were a goddess that chose him. You were more than enough for him. He helped pull you down, timing your motions so he could met it with his thrusts. “Kabal” His name came out in a whiny moan. His brow furrowed before he wrapped an arm around the small of your back. Reaching back, you cupped and began to roll Kabals balls. Your plan was to drive him wild, to remind him of what he has. Kabal was so close, his balls were starting to tingle. Leaning forward, he places sloppy kisses on your neck as his release began coming faster and faster.  "I'm about to cum.." He started, moving to lift you up. You placed your hands on his wrists, stopping him and drawing his hazel eyes to look at you. "I want you to finish in me." The words alone made him lose it. Kabal leaned forward and rested his head on your chest as he let out a few breathy moans, trying to calm himself down, his cock twitched with each squirt of his load filling you up. You rode him slowly, clenching him with your walls, helping milk him for everything he had. Leaning forward you rested your forehead on Kabals, eyes closed as you started to slow your breathing, exhaustion starting to lay claim to you. Sitting up, you cupped Kabals cheeks before you kissed him, much gentler this time, he kissed you back, not wanting to break the moment. Kabal moved the pad of his thumb back and forth over your cheek bone. You cupped his before leaning forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.  "You know the texts meant nothing to me. You, you are the real fucking deal to me. I would never fuck that up." You knew he was telling the truth, and you had to admit your anger got the best of you. "I know.. I'm sorry, I should have just listened to you when you were telling me to begin with." Kabal brushed your hair out of your eyes before he lifted you up, careful to not make a mess of your dress. Rolling his eyes he let out a loud sigh before tucking himself back away. He turned his head to look at you a lop sided grin on his face. You sat sideways facing him, your left leg resting on your right, your head resting on the seat before you raised your brow, waiting for him to voice what was on his mind. "I hope that warm up didn't tire you out, because I'm keeping you up all night after this mission." Rolling your eyes, you sat up, resting on your knees as you leaned over him, his right hand coming up to rest loosely on your ass. You gave him a quick kiss, a smirk on your lips before you pulled back.  "Please do."  @apocalypticwafflekitten

[h0tch-r0cket]

Infatuation (18+) {a.h.} : chapter 5

summary: you needed a job. aaron hotchner needed a babysitter. the rest was inevitable.

word count: 5.5K

warnings: explicit language, drinking alcohol, smoking, building tension : )

table of contents

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"Y/N?" Jack called out from the kitchen of the Hotchner home. You had picked him up from school, like always, and he was working on his homework as soon as possible.

"What's going on, Jack?" you asked as you placed your finger in between the pages of your copy of The Centaur which you brought with you to keep you occupied.

"I need help with my math," he said softly.

You put your bookmark in the novel and headed into where the little Hotchner was awaiting your help. You sat down across from him and glanced down at the papers that were sprawled out in front of him. "What do you need help with?"

"Well, Ms. Kingston showed us today how to add and subtract with three digit numbers like 100 and all that stuff. I get confused when you have to borrow from one of the other numbers when you subtract," he said as he tapped the pencil on the table, a habit you noticed Aaron did as well when he was working on his own work.

"Alright, let me take a look here," you said as you grabbed the paper from him.

After a few minutes of explaining the way you go about subtracting the numbers to Jack, he got it pretty quickly. "Thanks, Y/N!"

You ruffled his hair as you stood up from the table. "You got it. If you need me, I'm just going to be in the living room, okay?"

"Okay," he said as he moved on to the next parts of his worksheet.

You settled back onto the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest as you read the novel. You were just reaching one of your favorite parts, your attention glued to the pages in front of you. It was the part where George, the father of the story, had spent his very last dollar to bring home a sandwich for his wife even though he and his son were stranded for the night because their car broke down. There was something about the sentiment, the idea that he would give up his very last dollar, that always warmed your heart.

Just as you finished up the chapter you were on, the small pitter patter of feet coming into the living room interrupted you continuing on with your reading. You looked up from the book to see Jack coming towards you, taking hard steps as he walked.

He plopped down on the couch next to you and let out a low sigh. "What's the matter, kiddo?" you asked as you placed the book neatly on your lap.

"I want dad to come home already," he said quietly as he swung his legs against the side of the couch.

"I know you do, Jack. But hey, he should be here soon. Want to watch a movie in the meantime?" You weren't sure what else to do for him. It was the first time that Jack had ever expressed that sentiment to you.

He nodded his head lightly, not saying anything to actually answer your question verbally. "Alright. As long as you finished your homework," you told him. He simply nodded yet again, his face more somber than normal.

You tried to figure out why he had the sudden mood change from when you picked him up from the bus. You thought maybe he was just tired or perhaps he wasn't feeling good. You knew that most kids always wanted their parents around when they were sick.

As the different possibilities ran through your head as you looked for a movie that the two of you had yet to watch, Jack's small voice piped up from next to you. "Y/N?"

You turned your head to look at him to already be met with his gaze. "Yeah Jack?"

"Can I sit with you?" he asked softly.

You nodded your head and straightened yourself up more on the couch so he could sit on your lap. As he quickly scooted into your lap, your copy of The Centaur fell underneath the couch.

"Sorry Y/N. I'll pick it up," Jack said as he went to reach down and grab it. You pulled him back up towards you and let his back rest against your frontside.

"It's alright. I'll get it later. Pick out a movie to watch," you told him. You passed him the TV remote and let him scroll through the different family movies, hoping that he would find something to occupy his thoughts until Aaron got home from his lectures.

------

As much as he tried, Aaron Hotchner could not focus on the lecture that he was giving in his class. As he sat at his office desk at the university, he flipped through his notes which to anyone else other than him would not have made any sense at all with the way that the thoughts were not cohesive and the exhaustive amounts of abbreviations that littered the pages.

He planned the day's lecture to be about Orpheus and Eurydice, lovers tragically torn apart, but he couldn't gather his thoughts cohesively to provide his students with what he deemed to be the proper lesson.

His thoughts were foggy. Jarbled. He thought he would have shaken the thought of the way your hands touched the day prior. But it was all he found himself thinking about. He wasn't quite sure why. It was a simple accident.

A simple accident that made him want to rethink the way he had been so closed off with you. The way he was always curt. He craved more, despite the fact that he knew he shouldn't pursue anything with you.

He rubbed his temples, sighing in defeat. At that point, the lecture was going to be what it was going to be.

Aaron gathered all of his things in his satchel and headed down to the auditorium before his students filed in. He shed himself of his suit jacket, leaving him in a baby blue dress shirt and tan slacks. He organized his notes yet again and placed them in order on the podium that was in the center of the room.

His students filed in soon after, a chorus of Good afternoon, Professor Hotchner, How are you Professor Hotchner? coming from them.

Aaron gave everyone a few minutes to settle in before glancing at his watch for the time. He clapped his hands together once loudly to get the attention of the class. The side conversations slowly died down, only a few soft murmurs being heard through the crowd.

"Alright folks. Let's settle in. I know today is Friday and you all are eager to get out of here so I'll try to make this as quick and easy as possible," he said, projecting his voice so that everyone could hear him. "I'll run through attendance quickly and then we'll get started."

After taking attendance and marking the absentee students, Aaron grabbed the textbook for the class from out of his satchel. "If you all could open to page 265 that would be absolutely fantastic." Synchronous opening of textbooks and flipping of pages filled the auditorium as the students quickly followed Aaron's instructions.

He began to walk in front of the room, arms crossed over his chest as he glanced out into the sea of students. "Now, does anyone have any ideas as to what the story of Orpheus and Eurydice is about?" He looked into the crowd, being met with blank stares, eyes glazing over, and even a few students nodding their heads back as they fought the calling of sleep during class.

Not one student raised their hand. He caught the students glancing at one another, hoping that someone, anyone, would have the answer. But there was no such luck.

Part of him wondered if you knew the story. You probably would know the tale like the back of your hand, being that you seemed to be meticulous with whatever it was that you set your mind to. He was curious to see just how much you knew about mythology.

He decided that the next time he saw you, he would try to find out just that.

Focus, he thought to himself.

Clearing his head of you as much as possible, he rolled his sleeves up and walked to the whiteboard, uncapping the black Expo marker that laid next to it. "Orpheus," he said as the marker squeaked on the board as he wrote the name down, "is the son of Apollo and Calliope. Well, that is according to some accounts. Some people say that Orpheus had a different father," he clarified. Aaron turned his attention back to his students, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "Can anyone at least remind me as to who those two figures are in mythology? Apollo and Calliope?"

A hand rose in the middle of the auditorium slowly. "Yes?" he said, letting the student know that they could answer the question.

"Well, Apollo is considered to be the god of poetry and music. Calliope on the other hand, was one of the nine muses. She was the muse of history," the girl answered.

Aaron shook his head, placing his hands on his hips and he continued to pace back and forth in the front of the room. "Close. Calliope is actually the muse of poetry. Clio was the muse of history," he explained. "But I'm sure you knew that, right Ms. Sinclair?" he said with a small smirk on his face.

The girl nodded and scribbled down some more notes in her notebook, frantic to capture each and every word that Aaron uttered throughout the rest of the lecture.

Aaron took a brief pause and scanned through the crowd yet again. When he noticed one of his students clearly scrolling on his phone rather than focusing on the lecture, he debated about whether or not he should say something. But when the student started to show his phone around to those near him, he knew he would have to address the obvious distraction from the lecture.

"Mr. McMillan, if your phone is more important than listening to the rest of this lecture, which does cover a large part of your final, please be my guest and take the rest of the day for yourself," Aaron said as he raised his hand towards the door, suggesting that the boy leave the auditorium. He watched as the boy's face turned a shade of pink as he slipped the phone into his pocket. Aaron mouthed a small thank you to the student and continued with the lecture.

"As I was saying, with the help of Ms. Sinclair, Orpheus is the son of Apollo and Calliope. Eurydice," he said as he wrote the next name down on the board and drew a line connecting the two names together, "on the other hand was a beautiful Spartan princess. She married Orpheus. He played her beautiful songs on his lyre, which is just a smaller version of a harp. Orpheus was an exceptional musician. But that makes sense considering who his parents were."

He leaned back against his desk, partially sitting on top of it. He crossed his feet and rested his hands on each side of him on the desk to hold himself up. "However, tragedy struck the young couple. Eurydice was bit by a snake and died. Orpheus was heartbroken. So much so that he only played the most somber and melancholy songs on his lyre. "

Aaron paused for a moment, letting his students jot down their notes onto their paper. "But that didn't discourage Orpheus from fighting for his true love."

Aaron pushed himself off the desk and started to pace again, rubbing his thumb against his pointer finger as he walked. "He was not willing to give up so easily. So, he came up with a plan."

He walked over to the whiteboard again and wrote the word Underworld on the board. "Now, what are some things you know about the Underworld?"

"It's Hades' domain," a student called out.

Aaron drew an arrow from the word and wrote Hades underneath it. "And Hades is?"

"Zeus' brother," the same student replied.

"Very good. What else do we know about this Underworld, the realm where the souls of the departed end up in Greek mythology?" Aaron probed.

"River Styx!" another student called out enthusiastically.

"Mhm." He added another line to the diagram and turned to face the student that answered. "What about the River Styx?"

"I don't know. I just know it's there," the student laughed.

"Fair enough," Aaron said with a small smile. "We'll be covering that within the next few lessons so I won't worry about drilling it into your heads for the time being. One thing that I do want to mention is Cerberus, the three headed dog that guards the entrance of the Underworld. That will be important for the rest of the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice."

Aaron paused yet again, settling back onto the top of the desk but this time he was fully seated on it, his legs dangling off the side. "Now, Orpheus, being heartbroken at the loss of his wife, came up with a plan. He decided to travel to the Underworld to try to regain his love."

"That's crazy. Who would want to go to that place? I mean, I get it he loved the girl but is that even possible?" a student asked.

"It was a wild plan, I will give you that. But Orpheus succeeded. He traveled to the Underworld and managed to strike a deal with Hades after playing his music for him. The ruler of the Underworld was so moved that he granted Orpheus his wish to bring Eurydice back to the land of the living. Hell, the stories even say that Cerberus, the ferocious guardian of the entrance of the Underworld, was howling in despair of the pain Orpheus' music suggested."

A hand rose amongst the crowd. Aaron took his glasses off, gently biting down on the end of the arm of them. He raised his eyebrows at the student, allowing them to speak.

"There's no way that he got her back that easily. Greek mythology seems to, for the most part, at least stem from some kind of tragedy," the student said, clearly not believing that the tale would end happily ever after.

Aaron took his glasses out of his mouth and shook them in the direction of the student. "Excellent observation, Mr. Roth. That brings us to the next part of our tale. Hades gave Orpheus a stipulation; his wife would be brought back to the land of the living as long as Orpheus did not look back at her while they were still in the Underworld."

He hopped off his desk and hooked his glasses onto the collar of his shirt as he continued with the lecture. "Orpheus made the journey back to the light, but he turned around too soon, full of excitement to be reunited with his wife. She vanished before his eyes and he was heartbroken yet again."

"So the moral of the story is to be patient and have trust in the situations that you find yourself in?" a voice called out.

"Precisely," Aaron said, his voice soft. He glanced down at his watch. "I think that's enough for today. For the next class, think of a time in your life where this story applies. A time where you were impatient and lost something that you worked so desperately hard to get. Class dismissed."

The students filed out of the room quickly, allowing Aaron to follow behind them with his satchel tucked under his arm, the same fervor coursing through his veins to get home. He wanted to see Jack.

He wanted to see you.

————

"Oh! You sank my battleship!" you hollered dramatically as Jack managed to get another one of your ships clear off the board.

"Yes!" he shouted, throwing his fist up in success.

You were happy to see him going back to his normal, happy self. Whatever was bothering him earlier had managed to subside by the time you were done watching The Lion King.

The familiar car alarm chirped in the driveway, causing loyal Buster to run to the door in anticipation to see his owner.

You felt almost the same degree of excitement flowing through your body. It was the first time you were seeing Aaron since his touch was embedded into your head. You were wondering if things would be different. If he would be different.

As the front door opened, Jack ran over to his father and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. "Hey buddy," Aaron said with a small chuckle as he patted Jack's back.

"I missed you today," Jack said quietly as he looked up at his father.

"I miss you everyday," Aaron said with a smile. His gaze turned to you and he kept the smile plastered on his face. "How's it going, Y/N?"

"Pretty good. Jack just sunk my battleship...again," you joked, feigning annoyance.

Aaron's smile grew a bit wider, the dimples on his face making another appearance.

You couldn't help but smile at him. His smile was contagious and gorgeous. You felt like it was such a rare occasion that he smiled, even though he was smiling more often around you, that you always studied the way his face looked so you would never forget it.

Aaron headed into the kitchen with his things with Jack following close behind. You followed a few moments after, ready to gather your things and head home.

When you came into the kitchen, you saw Aaron place a hand on his hip as he looked down at Jack who held his hands together tightly in a pleading motion.

"Come on, Dad! It will be fun," Jack begged. He put on a big smile for his father, trying to convince him further to whatever idea he had planned.

"Alright, Jack. I wouldn't mind that. Ask her," Aaron said as he turned his attention towards you. You felt yourself get nervous, not sure as to what it was that Jack was about to ask you.

Jack took a step forward and planted himself in front of you as he looked up at you with big, puppy dog eyes. "Y/N, do you want to stay and have dinner with us?" Jack asked excitedly.

"Oh," you said with shock. Your stomach fluttered at the thought of actually staying and spending time with Aaron, even if Jack was still there. But the rational part of your head was yelling at you to leave. You already were thinking about Aaron too much and you were sure you would be even further doomed if you were subject to his charm and wit for the night. "Maybe another time, Jack. I think Esmé was planning on making a nice fancy dinner tonight."

"Please, Y/N," Jack pleaded. "Stay with us and eat." He held his hands firmly together again in a similar fashion to how he was begging his father to go along with the idea in the first place.

You clicked your tongue and scratched the back of your neck, unsure as to what other excuse you could come up with. "I don't want to intrude on the time you and your dad have together, buddy."

Aaron crossed his arms across his chest and you saw him raise his eyebrows for a quick second behind his glasses. "Stay, Y/N. I'm a pretty good cook," Aaron said with a smirk growing on his face.

You felt your stomach twist further into knots at the thought that one, Aaron wanted you to stay and two, that he was going to be cooking some sort of meal for you.

Aaron, on the other hand, felt desperate. He wanted—no, he needed you to stay. He wanted to learn everything there was about you. He wanted to know your passions, your fears. As his eyes searched yours, he saw the battle that was going on in your head as to whether or not you should stay or go.

He was hoping you couldn't see the way he crossed his fingers together subtly, a silent prayer that you would stay.

He didn't know what was coming over him. All he knew was that at that moment, he didn't want you to leave the house. He had tried to push you out of his head all day, but seeing you here at his house and your gorgeous smile, it was taking everything in his power to keep his composure as he felt himself succumbing to his desire to want to be close to you.

You weren't sure what it was but the way Aaron was staring at you, his eyes soft, it was as if he was subtly begging you to stay.

You knew you shouldn't. You already were feeling things that you never thought you would for the man. But a part of you was curious to try to figure out if he was feeling something similar.

"Alright, fine," you said defeated, throwing your hands up in the air. "I'll stay." Jack let out an excited yell before running back into the living room.

You could have sworn you saw Aaron exhale deeply once you came to your decision, as if he was relieved that you were actually staying. "But I'm telling you now Hotchner, if you're not as good a cook as you say you are, there will be hell to pay," you teased as you pointed your finger in his direction.

And to your surprise, Aaron laughed. He genuinely laughed. It was a sound that was pure music to your ears, something that you wished you could have turned back time to get it on a recording.

"I promise. I am a good cook," he said as he turned around and began to take out some different pots and pans.

You walked next to him and leaned up against the counter. "What exactly are you planning on making?"

He turned his gaze to you, a smug look growing on his face. "Well where's the fun in that? It's a surprise," he said quietly, leaning closer in your direction.

You caught a quick whiff of his cologne, the smell of cedar quickly filling your airspace. You bit down on your bottom lip, the closeness to him becoming almost too much to handle.

His warm honey eyes darted down to your lips and back up to your own eyes. He cleared his throat and stood back up straight, starting to pull some random ingredients out of the cabinet in front of him.

You shut your eyes for a second, disappointed by how quickly he stood away from you. "I'll be in the living room with Jack," you said. He nodded silently, making his rounds in the kitchen to cook.

As you made your way into the living room, you couldn't help but think about how close he was. You could have reached your hand out and stroked his cheek. You could have been putty melting in his hands.

Aaron watched you walk out of the kitchen, knowing that you wouldn't see his eyes raking across your body. Your perfume lingered in the space where you were in the kitchen, reminding Aaron just how close his face was to yours, how he could have pulled you by your cheeks to brush his lips against yours.

He wanted you. And he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back.

———-

"Oh my god," you sighed in content as you took a bite of the food Aaron prepared. He made fettuccine alfredo with chicken. All from scratch.

His eyes shot towards you as he heard the sound of satisfaction fall on your lips. He raised an eyebrow at you, taking a bite of the chicken that rested on his plate. "So, did I live up to your expectations?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster as you took another bite of the pasta.

You watched as Jack twirled the pasta around his fork. He popped it into his mouth and gave his dad a thumbs up. "It tastes good, Dad. I could eat the whole pot!"

"That's an awful lot of pasta," you joked as you took a small sip of the chardonnay that Aaron had poured for the two of you. He insisted it made the meal but you were wondering if it had different indications than what he led on.

"Yeah it is but I could eat it," Jack said. Aaron rolled his eyes jokingly at his son's active imagination.

A few minutes passed and you all were eating in content. This time, there was a much more comfortable silence that fell between you all, something that you could easily get used to.

"So, Y/N, what made you pick up an interest in Greek mythology?" Aaron asked, clearly ripping off the bandaid he had been gripping to all day. He had to know. He wanted to know more about you.

"I took a class in high school, actually. And from there, I've done most of my learning on my own. I don't know," you laughed softly.

God your laugh. Aaron would never get over hearing it. He took a sip of his wine and glanced at you over the rim of the glass, watching you absentmindedly twirl your fork around in the pasta.

"I just find it interesting that there's so many stories that they came up with and they all have some sort of deeper meaning to them."

Aaron nodded in agreement, finding himself entranced with your words. You were right of course. There were so many things those stories explained, like the natural world or even as something simple to not be selfish.

"That's why I like them so much. The interpretation of them all varies and you can learn so much," he added.

"I like the ones with Jason and the Astronauts," Jack interrupted. Small laughs from you and Aaron filled the space between you at Jack's mispronunciation.

"Argonauts," you and Aaron said at the same time, correcting the young Hotchner.

Jack scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. "What's the word?" he asked.

"Argonauts," Aaron repeated.

"Astronauts is cooler," Jack concluded as he took another bite of his chicken. "Can I be excused?"

Aaron glanced at his plate and pointed his fork in the direction of his son's food. "Eat another bite of chicken and you can be."

Jack scarfed down the chicken quickly and left the table.

Realization hit you rather quickly.

It was just you and Aaron. A tinge of pink fell across your face at the fact that you were alone with Aaron.

You cleared your throat and shifted in your seat, sitting up straighter. "So, how did your lecture go today?" you asked.

Aaron shrugged his shoulders and kept his gaze on his plate. "Could have gone better, I suppose."

"What did you talk about?" You took another drink of your wine and this time, it was you glancing at him over the rim of the glass.

"Orpheus and Eurydice."

"That's a good one. Heartbreaking in the end but I like the story of it all," you admitted.

Of course you knew it. Aaron figured you would. He wished you could have been in his class. You clearly knew so much about the subject matter and he was becoming impressed the more you spoke.

"It's definitely one of the sadder ones," he agreed.

You placed your fork down on your napkin, full from the delicious dinner you just ate. "I think it's one of the best representations of agape in Greek mythology that there is," you added, running your finger along the rim of your wine glass.

Aaron felt his nerves go wild.

Agape?

How the hell did you know about that?

You certainly kept him on his toes.

"And you know about agape, the Greek word for the concept of self-sacrificing love. I have to say, Y/N, I really wasn't expecting you to be so well versed in the subject," he admitted. "But figures, a smart girl like you would go above and beyond to learn about whatever you set your mind to." He took another sip of his wine and his eyes were looking at you more intently.

You definitely felt your face blush at his words. You tried to keep your composure as best as possible, but how could you when he was being so fucking charming and looking at you the way he was?

"I am just full of surprises," you teased, making your voice almost a whisper.

You watched as Aaron licked his lips and raised his eyebrows. "You most certainly are," he agreed, his words coming out with an exhale. "Question for you though."

"Hm?"

"What makes you think that the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice is full of agape?" he challenged.

You took a moment to try to cohesively get your thoughts together. Well, as best you could with the way Aaron was looking at you.

"Well for starters, the man literally went to the Underworld to try to get his wife back. It was an unheard of feat. And the fact that Orpheus was willing to do whatever it took to get her back just shows how much he couldn't live without her. How much he loved her."

Aaron nodded slowly, finishing the rest of his wine. "You make a good point there," he said after he swallowed the chardonnay.

You nodded in agreement. You couldn't believe that you were engaging in such a deep conversation with Aaron. But it felt so natural. So right.

You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was almost 9pm. "I think I better get going," you said quietly. You pushed yourself away from the table and placed your dishes in the sink.

When you turned around to go grab your things, you bumped into a solid mass.

Aaron.

He grunted lightly at the contact, a flicker of his smile dancing across his lips.

"Sorry," you said quickly as he looked down at you. You stared at him for a second, as he did to you, before pulling yourself out of your trance and stepping around him to grab your belongings.

"Not a problem," he said as he placed his and Jack's dishes in the sink. "Let me walk you out." You nodded silently and watched as he grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the counter.

He patted the bottom of the carton against his palm before taking one of the cigarettes out, resting it between his lips as he walked with you towards the door.

He opened the door for you and you turned to say your goodbyes.

As much as you truly didn't want to.

"Thank you for dinner," you said with a smile.

"Don't worry about it," he assured as he leaned against the doorframe, the cigarette bouncing between his lips with each word.

"Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Aaron."

"You too, Y/N."

You headed to your car, settling into the driver's seat quickly, your brain still reeling from the events of the night.

You glanced back towards the Hotchner home and saw Aaron still leaning against the door frame, the faint orange glow of the lit cigarette piercing through the darkness of the sky.

You pulled away from the house and headed back home, watching as the Hotchner home disappeared from your rear view mirror.

Once you got home, you opened the door and pressed your back against it, still shocked with the overwhelming feelings that were still in your stomach, your head. Everywhere.

Esmé turned her head around towards you from the couch. When she saw your shocked and speechless expression, a shit-eating grin grew rapidly on her face. "Spill...the...details...now," she demanded as you sat down next to her on the couch.

As you were retelling the way you and Aaron had a few more moments that night, your phone dinged.

"Don't be a fool! Answer it!" Esmé hollered, smacking her hand gently on your leg.

Your heart fluttered when you saw the name of the person texting you.

                                                   Aaron Hotchner

-You left your book here. I found it under the couch when I was straightening up.

                                -Oh, I totally forgot about it! Sorry! I'll grab it on Monday.

-The Centaur, huh? You really are a bit of a nerd when it comes to mythology aren't you?

                                            -Maybe. But it's also just a good book in general.

-I'll have to give it a read then.

                    -I'm going to test you on it if you do read it, just so you're aware.

-I'll be counting on it.

-Goodnight, Y/N.

                                                                                            -Goodnight, Aaron.

You sighed loudly, trying to ignore Esmé who was staring at you with wide eyes. You clutched your phone tighter in your hand and turned to look at her.

"I'm in such deep shit," you admitted as you leaned back on the couch, resting your head on the headrest.

——

authors note:

i hope you all enjoyed this chapter! i also hope the lecture part wasn't too boring. i figured it was a good change of pace.

thanks for reading! i appreciate the support <3

see you next chapter!

-jordyn

[reaperintheroses]

Stayin’ Alive

A/N: Alrighty this is the last story for this rotation. The story is set in the ’70s (ish) and the reader works in a diner. Also, I don’t use names a ton because the reader wouldn’t know them so the brunette man is Nicky, curly-haired man is Joe, sandy blonde hair is Booker, and the woman is andy. I’m planning a part two for this to come out in a few weeks. I had so much fun writing this and I would totally recommend the movie to anyone who hasn’t seen it.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of SUICIDE (if you squint, will be more addressed in the next part), language, mentions of reader smoking (mentioned like once), and guns.

Also: if you haven’t watched the old guard but you want to here’s the link if you don’t have Netflix. I would heavily recommend it but know not everyone can afford Netflix. You can watch it with this link. The website is a tad sketchy but free stuff don’t complain.

The bell overhead chimed while you were scrubbing away at dishes. The radio in the corner was playing a staticy song and the darkness from outside was seeping in which gave the entire diner an eerie feel. You dropped the sponge you were holding and went to go greet the folks who were standing sopping wet by the hostess booth. You bent down to grab your notepad and as you stood up and actually got a good look at the incomers you gasped. You had been dreaming of these people for months, ever since that day, you woke up in the hospital.

You backed away from the window into the kitchen and called out a timid “Be right with you folks,” while you walked around trying to find the cook and try placing the knives in convenient locations in case they might be needed later. As you walk into the storage room where you thought that they might be sleeping you panic. They told you that they were going home to take care of their sick husband. Shit. You were all alone, with 4 able-bodied strangers who you’ve been having dreams about for 3ish months now. You swallow before steeling your face and walking out into the entrance and throw on a nice smile before grabbing some menus and tucking some of your hair behind your ear. “Right this way y’all,” you beckon doing your best to add some sweetness into your voice to cover up the nervousness. As they all file into your corner booth you hand them the menus and pull out your book. “Can I get ya anything to start with,” A woman with short hair orders water and a basket of fries for the table and turns to have a conversation with the man to her right. You nod and walk back to the kitchen, turning down the radio to try and hear their conversation better. The man with curly hair glances once towards the kitchen and quickly glances away once he makes eye contact with you. You're hesitant to turn your back around, even if for only a second, just to fill their waters. You know you’re acting crazy. You would definitely hear them if they tried to make their way back here. Even then you’ve never met these people. Just because they happen to be the people you’ve been dreaming of ever since you became a medical confusion doesn’t mean they're here to harm you. Maybe it’s just a sign from whatever higher power is out there that you made the wrong choice on that rooftop.

You continued thinking about it as you pulled their french fries out of the fryer and put them into the basket. You put the basket on a tray before filling up each of their waters. Maybe you had just met all of them before and that's why you were dreaming of them. Your brain thought of them as people of interest and was just putting them into your dreams to have you thinking more about them. You looked down as you realized that the water cup was overflowing everywhere. Ugh, you needed a smoke to clear your head. You put the waters onto the tray before giving yourself a mini pep talk to go walk back up to the table. You emerged from the kitchen with your tray and all of their conversations ceased. You could feel their eyes on you like cats watching their prey. You did your best to throw on the southern sweetheart smile that your boss heavily encouraged you to use when speaking to customers. You placed the basket of fries in the middle of their table before pulling out your book from your apron. “Have you folks had a chance to look at the menu yet or do you think you might need a little more time,” You asked them with a smile. Inside you were just counting down the minutes until they left and you could curl up at home while doing your best not to drift off into sleep so that these people don’t appear to you in your dreams again. The brunette man to your left asks for a chili dog while the man with sandy blonde hair sitting in the back corner of the booth orders a grilled cheese.

You walked back behind the counter and you heard their conversation start again. You honestly didn’t know what to do. Should you approach them and say that you have dreams of them? Do you let them walk out and possibly never see them again? Should you call the police? You felt at such a loss, you just couldn’t focus with them there. You pulled out the bread and started the grill before walking back over to the refrigerator to grab the cheese and meat you would need to make their meal. The entire time you were making their food you felt as if you were being watched through the wall. You could feel their eyes darting over whenever they thought you weren’t looking. You took the grilled cheese off the stove and put it on a plate before walking over to get the chili. As you stepped into view from the window again you heard a small bit of their conversation from the man with the curly hair. “Look Andy, all I’m saying is they match the drawing perfectly.” You hesitated before moving out of sight again. You grimaced as you considered that maybe they were just talking about someone else and you were just being paranoid. You took the chili back over to the stove and started to add the meat a little at a time while straining your ears to hear them over the cracking of grease and the staticky radio. You take the hotdog off the stove and start spooning the chili on top of it. “I know but we didn’t see their death, that’s never happened before.” You catch a voice calling back. You stiffen. You put the hotdog on a dish, just hoping to get this night over with and leave this all behind you.

You walked back out with their dinner in hand and plaster your smile back on. It was honestly so tiring to pretend it was all real. “I’m just saying that’s weird and we should- Nicky what do you,” the woman trailed off as her friend hit her chest. She smiled at you as you placed the meal down in front of the two men and backed up. “Can I get y’all anything else at the moment?” You question them. The woman shakes her head and you nod. “Alrighty, well if you need anything just holler, I’ll be in the kitchen.” You turn around and right as you walk through the door you can hear their conversation start again but far quieter this time. You walk over to the sink and shut off the radio, not being able to handle the voice of Glen Campbell cutting out every few seconds. As you start to dry off the plates you hear all of them hissing at each other about “how there’s no way it isn’t them.” You raise your eyebrows as the man whose name you figured out was Nicky turns to the woman, “Just because we didn’t see how they died doesn’t make this any less of a retrieval,” he turns to address all of them, “We just need to figure out how to explain this to them without scaring them.”

You set the silverware you had just started drying on the counter and turned to look around you. You definitely weren’t crazy. You needed to call for help. For all you knew these people were here to kidnap you. Remembering that there was a landline phone in the storage room you did your best to back away from the window without drawing any attention to yourself. You open the door for the storage room and grab the phone quickly dialing the police station. You only got a few sharp beeps in your ear before you placed the phone back and realized that the power lines must be down because of the rain. Cursing you look around for something else to use to call for help when you land on the jackpot. A Winchester model 23 and some ammo. You grab a couple of casings and put them in your apron pocket before loading the shotgun. You walked out of the storage room and peered out of the window again. The man with sandy hair was gesturing with one hand and pointing in the direction of the door with his other. “We should just knock them out and explain it in a better location.” The woman sighed before nodding. “I’ll go start the car you take care of,” She dropped a couple of bills on the table before walking out of the booth, “be careful all of you, They’re probably scared we haven’t exactly been subtle.” She walked out of the door and as the bell stopped ringing you decided that now was as good as ever. You pushed open the door before cocking the shotgun and holding it up in their direction. “Who the hell are you people?” You shouted at them. The three of them looked at each other before looking at you, shocked. They all stood up and walked towards you slowly as if approaching a rabid animal. The man with curly hair held up his hand in front of him before slowly beginning to speak. “I believe we got off on the wrong foot, my name is Joe we just want to talk to you.” You shook your head before aiming the shotgun at the man with blond hair. “That doesn’t answer my question, tell me who the hell you are or I shoot him.” The man with the sandy hair sticks his hands up with a sheepish look. The brunette steps forward, “We just want to talk to you,” he repeats. You swallow hard before looking back at the man with the sandy hair. “That wasn’t my question,” You ground out. “You have a lot of questions right now, that’s okay just put the gun down and we can- and you shot him.” Joe sighs. You drop the shotgun before putting your hands up to your mouth and let out a groan. “Oh God, what did I do.” You panic. Joe just checks his watch while the brunette man just looks out the window. You put your hands up to your head trying to stifle your alarm. You just shot a man in the head. A defenseless man. You really were going crazy, holy shit. You turn around and look at the diner, doing your best to not cry.

Suddenly you hear a metal clatter before a moan of pain. “Was that really necessary?” A voice with a slight accent calls out. Startled you turn around to see the man stand back up as the wound in his head comes back together. Joe starts again, “Now as I was saying you must have many questions,” his voice trailed off as you tried to come up with a good explanation as to what just happened. He died. He was just dead and came back to life. “Oh God,” you cry out before your knees lock and your eyesight goes black.

[ms-demeanor]

You know what’s funny is whenever I make a tech post I get people going “this is blatantly untrue” and I get people going “this is really good information and everyone needs to know it” and the dividing line is how much time you spend with people who are tech literate.

Yep, I would tell my computer savvy friends where they could get keycaps and fix their keyboards; I don’t even have to bother telling my computer savvy friends how to run a fifteen year old laptop because we’re all pretty good at it.

But GODDAMN I just read a response to my “cheap computer season” post that claimed that it was totally reasonable to run a macbook from 2010 and

Look.

That’s not a reasonable thing to tell a student who needs a functional computer to do research and write papers. (have fun trying to find installation discs from when the OS was still named after cats and have fun trying to get a browser to get along with that OS)

You know why most people bring me laptops with missing keys? Because the key got ripped off by their two-year-old and damaged the soldering in the keyboard and I have no idea it’s going to be “oh, yeah, that’s a ten dollar fix” or “sorry, that’s going to be an hour and a half to disassemble and reassemble and we’ll have to order you a new keyboard specific to that model out of new old stock” and the thing is the second one is much, much, much more common in my experience than the first.

Do I think you need to replace a laptop when the bezel is cracked? No. I also don’t carry my laptop powered on in the bag with a flashdrive sticking out of the USB port. Customers do weird things that I don’t understand and when a customer tells me they want me to fix the bezel they think it’s a twenty-dollar snap-on repair because they have no idea how this works and then they get mad at me when I explain “no, you’ve gotta have this specific piece of plastic, these haven’t been made in five years, and you might be better off buying a used model online than trying to track down a new bezel.”

So here’s the thing: Can Macs get viruses?

There are three answers here.

“No, of course not, Macs are made to be virus-proof”

“Macs need antivirus protection because, while it is less common than infections for PCs, there are types of malware that can infect macs and it’s worthwhile to guard against that”

“tEcHnIcAlLy a virus has to be self-replicating and IOS’s file management system [or some other bullshit] prevents that so TECHNICALLY Macs can’t get viruses and what you need is anti-malware software if you need anything because you’re fairly likely to have security through obscurity”

I’m aware of the third position and voicing the second position to people who believe the first position.

YES TECHNICALLY YOU CAN KEEP A COMPUTER RUNNING INDEFINITELY AND YES IT’S TOTALLY POSSIBLE YOUR LAPTOP WILL LAST TEN YEARS.

“Well if you treat it right and run it well it’ll be in great shape for a long time”

YES THAT IS CORRECT DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY PEOPLE WHO DON’T WORK ON THEIR OWN CARS DRIVE AROUND WITH THE OIL CHANGE LIGHT ON FOR MONTHS?!?

Tons of people in the world today use computers. They use computers every day, they use computers at home and at school and at work.

Tons of people drive every day. They use cars for fun and for commuting and for their jobs.

That doesn’t mean that all (or even most, or even half) of the people using these things is any good at keeping them running, or even has the barest idea of how to start tracking down a problem.

Someone in the notes of that post described a green line on their screen and thought that was a symptom of hard drive problems. I don’t have the hours in the day to catch this person up to speed on why a display issue on a laptop isn’t indicative of hard drive issues.

Do you know how much people think it’s going to cost to get data off of a broken drive? Not “won’t power up” not “won’t spin” but “I dropped this and part fell off and now it won’t power up or spin and also the platter is chipped”? I’m going to have to send that shit to a clean room and the customer is *staggered* that it might cost more than a hundred dollars to get their data. “Outrageous, what kind of blackmail operation are you trying to run here, just plug it in and get my pictures.”

A year or so ago I was at Jiffy Lube (ew). I’d been shooting the shit with the mechanic when a parent and child rolled in in a panic. And they should have been panicking! They’d thrown a fucking rod because they’d been driving with no oil in the car for god knows how long because neither of them had had the oil changed in the two years they’d owned the vehicle.

*I* can keep a 30-year-old car running. I can put a belt back on an engine in a dark parking lot with a wrench and a headlamp. I can drop a gas tank and replace my fuel filter and thumb my nose at the mechanics who tried to upsell me on “replacing your old, worn-out air filter” the day after I’d popped a new one into my truck.

These folks couldn’t keep a new car running with three alarms telling them what was wrong.

*I* can power up my 2005 macbook running Leopard and use garage band to record a song or do some design work on my copy of Adobe CS3; I can kludge its FF3.5 browser into playing nice with the internet and accept that it’s going to be a slow piece of shit.

The lady who called me confused by the fact that the password to her email was different than the login information for her grocery store rewards account will not be able to function if she gets a pop-up that says she’s using an outdated browser and will think it’s a virus if her bank won’t let her log in on that browser.

And you know what, I’m kind of sick of this attitude.

I would *fucking adore it* if computers were actually easy to repair; I’d love it if you could run new OSs on old hardware (especially on macs because I think apple are kind of shitheads about planned obsolescence).

But you know what, no, most people *CAN’T* reasonably expect to use a ten-year-old computer and have pleasant experience of it. It’s going to run slow. It’s going to shut down when they don’t want it to. The battery is going to swell slightly with the heat and your touchpad is going to go nuts. Your USB ports will stop working. Standard wear and tear that most people don’t know how to protect against and don’t know how to repair is going to make it harder to use AND software requirements will outstrip the hardware capabilities of the computer.

If your old computer sucks it’s not your fault. If you can’t happily use a 10-year-old laptop to do your homework that’s okay, it wasn’t designed for you to use it that way and YOU SHOULDN’T FEEL GUILTY ABOUT IT.

Because that’s kind of what a lot of these “well anybody should realistically be able to run a laptop from 2010″ responses comes down to: if you need new hardware you’re just not doing it right. If you have to replace your computer you didn’t make good choices when you bought it. If your battery dies it’s because you didn’t take care of it.

No. No. No. No.

This shit is A) designed to fail and B) actually really hard to keep running (hey how many blown capacitors do you think someone has to have on their motherboard before you say it’s not their fault for wanting to replace the laptop)

ALSO SOMEONE IN THE RESPONSES OF THAT POST LITERALLY SAID THAT IF YOUR BATTERY DIED AT THREE YEARS IT WAS BECAUSE YOU WEREN’T DOING THE DRAIN CHARGE CYCLE RIGHT AND FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU. It’s discharge cycles and heat, motherfucker; they are going to fail at some point and people shouldn’t feel bad if their batteries stop working after a couple years.

UGH.

You shouldn’t have to be a mechanic. You shouldn’t have to be a computer technician. Yeah, your shit will last longer if you know how to take care of it but, fuck. Imagine you were still using internet speeds from 2010. Imagine all your devices still had USB 2.0. Imagine you couldn’t log onto your online bank because your hardware won’t run he software that your bank recognizes because the hardware manufacturer decided it won’t support the older hardware.

What I was trying to get across in that initial post was “computers fail, and they fail pretty frequently; your life will be better and you will save money if you plan on replacing them at a regular interval and have reasonable expectations in terms of cost and failure. So buy a cheap computer now because you’re probably going to need one at some point”

And now I’ve got to Do A Yell about how there’s no ethical consumption under capitalism and it’s unreasonable to expect tired, overworked, broke people to become experts in computer repair in order to do their homework or play the goose game.

FUCK THAT.

IT’S CHEAP COMPUTER SEASON MOTHERFUCKERS. LAPTOP FAILURE RATES INCREASE AT THREE TO FIVE YEARS AND DESKTOP FAILURE RATES INCREASE AT FIVE TO SEVEN YEARS. RIGHT NOW THERE ARE DISCOUNTS ON NEW COMPUTERS AND IT’S CHEAP TO GET AN EXTENDED WARRANTY.

LIVE LONG AND PROSPER AND WORK ON COMPUTERS IF YOU WANNA AND PLAN TO REPLACE REGULARLY IF YOU DON’T WANT TO WORK ON COMPUTERS.

ALSO CHANGE YOUR FUCKING OIL YOU’RE PROBABLY DUE.

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger|| 01

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut (later), Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: language, depictions of violence both verbal and physical however they are fairly mild, mentions of war and power dynamics, there will be smut in future parts so, (18+ only please).

Current Tag List: @bulletproofbirdy​ @gldnrecs​ @naajix​ @bluewhale52​ @nikkikenji​ @lustedkisses​

A/N: oh okayyyyy HELLO!!! Its here!!! Warrior! Yoongi is finally emerging from the depths of my writer blocked brain and I am SO happy you get to meet him. Once again, this series will be posted in parts just as Mama Mia! is and it may not necessarily follow a linear timeline. 

Also, I know I mentioned her in the tag list post but, SERIOUSLY you guys this story would not be possible without my wonderful friend @bulletbroofbirdy aka Rachel who has literally spent so much time dreaming up with wonderful universe with me. My sweet angel, you are the greatest in the world and I love you. Please go follow Rachel and send her all the love in the universe and thank her for her genius brain because, without her, this fic wouldn’t exist. 

War.  

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.  

The ever-present shifting of the borderlines is a constant reminder of the struggle for power.

Many see it as a valiant effort, a noble cause...

But, war is something that doesn’t appeal to you.

It doesn’t sit right with your perspective on the world.

Sure, you understand it’s strengths and why it could be seen as necessary.

However, the consequences of war, of violence- never seem to be worth it.  

Death.

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.  

When war is constantly raging on the background, it should be expected.  

It should be normal.  

To most of your district, it is.  

To you?

Every single rise in the death toll sends icy despair into your heart.  

Every drop of blood spilled feels as though it’s your own.  

You’re desperate to find the solution for peace but, you know it’s not that simple.  

Man is never content.

The struggle for power is never ending.  

As you grow up, you learn to adapt.  

Learning a trade is the easiest way to establish yourself so, you take up knitting and medicine.  

You sell your wears and remedies in the market every other day and spend your off days replenishing the stock that you sold.  

Your parents live comfortably but in order for them to do so, you’re in the market for hours on end.  

Today starts as any other.  

You’re gathering your wears in your family’s home as the sun is beginning to peak over the mountains.

The colors it throws through your window are breathtaking and, if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d be able to enjoy them a bit more.  

Thankfully, your preparations don’t wake your parents as they sleep soundly in their bed.  

You wish for nothing more than for them to be at peace every chance they get.  

They have sacrificed so much.

The market displays its usual scenery.  

The fishermen are always first setting up their catches from the evening prior, the butchers are hanging up their kills from the overnight hunt whilst the farmers arrange seasonal produce on their carts...

You always have your cart near the end of the market.  

It’s easier for people to think about softer things such as knitted blankets or healing elixirs once they’ve purchased their food.  

Thankfully, business is decent.  

Your wares are well-made and your elixirs have an exceptional success rate.

The prices are fair so you attract all walks of life but, you focus more on serving the lower class folk such as yourself.  

One of the fisherman, who you’ve grown acquainted with over the last few months, nods to your cart as you’re setting it up.

“What do you have today __?”

With a smile, you hold up a mauve woolen blanket which you’ve spent nearly two weeks on.

“This is the item of the day. I used a root dye to get the color- what do you think?”

He purses his lips, nodding in consideration, “I’m sure someone will snag that right away. It looks warm. It will be very useful over the next few months. Do you have any of that uh- “ Lowering his voice, he cranes his neck to assess whether or not any of his team can hear him, “ginseng mixture that you sold to me last week?”

You bite back a smirk as you nod towards the woven basket containing your various medicines, “I do. I made a new batch last night. Did you need some?”

A rapid nod is sent your way along with a handful  of coins, “Thanks. It worked wonders last time. My wife sends her gratitude.”

Your cheeks heat up immediately but given that you’ve heard worse things in the market place, you merely giggle and file your payment away.

Ginseng is a natural stimulant that you often recommend to men experiencing issues with sex or fertility. Whilst you completely stand by its effectiveness, you won’t deny that it’s slightly awkward working with the men you’ve helped. Especially since they often insist on loudly announcing how many times they had sex the night before.

The rest of the setup goes smoothly and by the time the sun fully takes its place in the sky, you are ready for the market to open.  

As your adjusting the sign on the front of your cart, you hear an interesting bout of conversation ignite in front of you

“Did you hear? The Royal Army is arriving today to refuel.”

“You’re lying. Are you serious? Do they- do you think they have him with them?”

“Of course! They aren’t stupid enough to travel without him. They’d be ambushed immediately.”

“Yah, what are you talking about?”

“The Tiger. He’s coming through town today.”

Instantly, your heart stalls in your chest.

You try your best to appear unbothered but, it doesn’t stop the panic from seeping into your bones.

The Tiger and the fleet of warriors he oversees are well-known in your village.  

Word of mouth is truly a powerful mechanism for spreading information and, stories of The Tiger had been circulating for quite sometime.

They started out simply depicting a powerful new recruit into the Royal Army.

Despite his initial inexperience, The Tiger quickly rose through the ranks due to his otherworldly fighting skills.  

According to the rumors, The Tiger was known for his silent destruction.  

By the time his enemies could grasp what was happening, The Tiger and his men had already completed their mission.  

They had already killed, maimed or destroyed whatever they were after.  

A recent success had led to The Tiger becoming the General of the largest fleet in the Royal Army.

From what you had gathered, he wasn’t much older than you so the fact that he essentially lead an entire army is quite impressive.

However, given the stories of his cruel and cold blooded nature, it makes a lot of sense.

“I heard he beheads the enemy general on the battlefield after he wins...”

“I heard he killed 3,000 men all on his own in the middle of a thunderstorm!”

“I heard he keeps a viper on him at all times and he sets it loose on anyone he disobeys him!”

“I heard that he never sleeps.”

“Do you think he’ll come here? Would he be seen out in public like that?”

“Why wouldn’t he? He has nothing to fear, there isn’t a single soul in this village who could take him on.”

“Plus, he never travels alone. He’ll have his men with him.”  

With a snort, you continue displaying your cart as normal and, only then do you realize that you stand out amongst the other merchants.

Every single one of them has an offering for the warriors.

It’s not customary to do so and, you’re only viable guess is that it has something to do with the market fawning over this tiger character.

“Were we supposed to put something out?” You murmur to the woman beside you, brows knitting in confusion.

She chuckles heartily, “When a normal fleet enters, no. We usually just offer them food and the resources we can spare.” A bit of excitement flashes through her eyes as she adjust the basket of radishes on her cart, “However, this is no ordinary fleet. I suggest you put something out too dear, that pretty face of yours could land you husband on the Tiger’s army, any one of his men would be a worthy mate. They aren’t shooting blanks like my husband over here!”

Her body jostles with laughter as she shoves her hand up against the man beside her, who looks whole-heartedly unamused.

“Jane, please...” He grumbles

You can’t help the grimace that comes across your face when Jane mentions finding a husband but, it’s quickly replaced with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

“I have something for that.” You offer in a hushed tone and, the man seems to unfurl from his submissive position as he offers a meek smile.

“You do?”

You don’t have time to answer him before the mood of the market shifts into quiet chaos.

“I think they’re coming!” The fisherman whispers frantically, adjusting the sign on his cart for the millionth time.

As much you hate to give in to the hype, you feel compelled to go with the flow and, put something out for the warriors.  

You settle on a basket of your most popular anti-inflammatory ailment that’s proven to be quite effective amongst your customers.  

The long strips of white wood are haphazardly placed into a woven basket as you brace your ears for the piercing sound of trumpets.

Magnificent as the musicians in your village are, the blaring cacophony of noise is far from something you wish to be apart of this early in the morning.  

However, the noise never comes.  

The gates open up as normal as a reasonable size crowd begins meandering throughout the market.  

You turn towards Jane with confusion painting your features, “Where’s the music?”

Jane is adjusting her radishes once again, glancing eagerly towards the crowd of people, “The Tiger does not allow fanfare of any kind. A far away village defied his orders once and played for him and his fleet anyway and- well...” She smirks bemusedly, “it didn’t end well for them, so we respect his wishes.”

Your eyes widen at that as you nod, swallowing back any fear that threatens to crawl up your throat.  

“Got it.”

The usual slew of customers begin filing in and as business begins to pick up, you slowly forget about the famous warriors that were to enter.  

Roughly, an hour later, your basket of willow bark remains untouched and, you begin to consider putting it back in its normal place. This particular bark is quite annoying to obtain and you don’t feel great about giving it away to some warrior after you’ve spent hours trying to procure it.  

However, as you glance at other offering baskets, you notice that some of them have been emptied.  

This means of course that either your fellow merchants put their offerings away or, the warriors are already in the market.  

A strange and unsettling feeling washes over you at the thought of deadly warriors perusing throughout town. You expected that they would be recognizable, especially given their reputation but, nothing seems to give away their presence.  

As a paying customer leaves your cart with an armful of various items, you notice something that normally doesn’t garner your attention: hair.  

You see it amongst the crowd, peeking over the tops of heads.

It’s a shimmering icy platinum and it’s tied up atop a strangers head with a beaded string. It moves throughout the crowd slowly, stopping at various points, likely exchanging words with another merchant before you finally make out the face it belongs to.  

A man dressed in cotton linens maneuvers out of the crowd, dark eyes scanning his surroundings almost anxiously. As he moves closer to you, you’re able to fully take in his features.  

Pointed and smooth, his face is the epitome of contradiction.  

Deep brown eyes, rounded button-nose, pouty lips and strong eyebrows adorn his face whilst his rather large hand flexes instinctually towards the object hanging off of his hips.

It’s a sword.  

This man certainly isn’t a civilian.  

Unfortunately, you’re unable to ignore the beauty he possesses. He is quite ethereal once you get a closer look at him; you don’t think you’ve ever seen another person that looks quite like him.  

As he speaks with the fisherman, your ears perk up to in an attempt to hear the sound of his voice.  

Faintly, you can discern a bit of rasp and calculation in his tone but, you aren’t able to absorb it over the sound of the market.  

Its then you realize that you’ve been staring at this stranger for far too long and, if you’re ever going to meet your quota today, you need to avoid distractions.  

You sell another one of your blanket moments later, increasing your daily total by a reasonable amount. Making blankets is enjoyable yes but, it’s extremely time consuming so it feels good when someone rewards you for your hard work.  

“Please have some radishes! They’re grown in top soil from the northern region! It gives them a certain uh- “ Jane’s shrill voice pulls your attention towards her cart which now brandishes a new visitor: the stranger with the blonde hair.

You're realizing that Jane is pausing mid-sentence because, she is desperately looking to you for answers.

You've assisted Jane with her produce before as she was having trouble with the flavor of some of her vegetables. This was mainly due to the fact that she had been using the wrong kind of fertilizer but, you had also given her several tips to improve the overall taste of her produce.

“A certain crunch...” You finish for her, stabilizing your tone as you brave a glance towards the man. “The mixture of the soils helps with the texture.”

His feline gaze rushes towards you at the sound of your voice, as if he wasn’t expecting you to speak.  

At the sight of you, his lips part momentarily before quickly sealing in a tight lipped smile which directs toward Jane.

“Thank you.” He nods toward her as he takes one of the radishes and tucks it into the pocket of his linen pants.

“Of course! Um thank you- sir for your...services...” She stutters and it’s then you notice that she hasn’t made eye contact throughout the entirety of their conversation.  

A bit of discomfort flashes through his eyes but otherwise, he merely grunts in acknowledgement.  

Jane’s comment is the last bit of confirmation you need that this man is indeed a warrior.

However, his reaction to her words strikes you as odd. Warriors rarely shy away from gratitude. They are often proud and boastful regarding their positions but, he seems to be bothered by what she said.  

The man never looks back at Jane as he makes his way to the next cart. Every so often, you notice him looking over his shoulder or glancing towards the entrances/exits of the market. His presence doesn’t necessarily make you uneasy but, his behavior sure does.

He acts as though he is in danger.

It puts you on edge but, you direct your attention back to the customer in front of you.

“Good morning.” You smile, “Anything catch your eye?”

The man cards a hand through his salt and pepper hair as he leans over your cart, eagerly scanning the items you have on display.

“Eh do you have anything for dry skin? With winter around the corner, I gotta start thinking about this old skin of mine. The wind does a lot of damage on my knuckles.”

“You know what? I think I have just the thing...” You bend down to access the crate beneath your counter and grab a medium sized glass bottle, “This is an olive oil and honey treatment, it will treat dry skin immediately but, it’s meant to treat dry skin over a longer period of time too. I also-” You bend down once more to grab a tin of cocoa butter and place it on the counter top, “have this. This should help with daily wear and tear. You only need a little bit so this tin should last you through the winter.”

The man smiles eagerly and quickly reaches for his pockets before he freezes. You don’t notice until you look up from your counter but, the platinum haired warrior is back and, he’s standing right behind your customer.

“O-Oh go ahead, go ahead. I uh- I'll go next...” The man stutters, gesturing frantically to your cart.

With a quirked brow the warrior moves to step in front of him until you raise your hand.

“No sir, it’s ok. You’re in the middle of a transaction.” You insist, eyeing the warrior sternly,  “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

The immediate crowd surrounding your cart seems to pause, nervously glancing towards the warrior who merely nods and steps back into place.  

The shock is apparent on the faces of the crowd but you ignore it and send a reassuring smile towards your customer, “Ok, that will be 11.50 and-” You slide a bundle of rosemary towards him, “take this too, on the house. Brew it in some hot water to aid digestion, winter food tends to be a bit harsher on the system.”

The man swallows nervously, dragging his items toward his chest, “Thank you—uh so much. Thank you.” He turns towards the warrior, directing his gaze towards his feet as he bows his head, “Thank you for your service...”

The man doesn’t allow the warrior time to respond before he rushes off back into the crowd but, you get the feeling that it wouldn’t matter regardless.  

The warrior doesn’t seem interested in anyone’s gratitude.  

“Let me know if you have any questions.” You nod your head towards him, pushing the basket with your offering towards the edge of the counter before busying yourself with putting a few things back in their place.

He says nothing but, he approaches the counter whilst his eyes shrewdly observe the ins and outs of your set up.

He’s even more striking up close. His smooth, tan skin is mostly unmarked except for the giant scar running down the center of his right eye. It goes up the center of his eyelid and disappears right above the center of his brow. It’s still red and angrily risen against his otherwise angelic looking face.  

A warrior indeed.

The bit of people around your cart haven’t stopped their staring but, they are at least making an attempt to look like they aren’t paying attention. It doesn’t stop you from wishing that you didn’t have an audience.  

“Tree bark?” He questions with an arch to his brow

You look towards the basket he’s gesturing to before returning your gaze back to his.

“White willow bark.” You correct, almost defensively and it cause his lips to twitch.

“Is this some kind of decoration?”

You shake your head, placing your fingers on the edge of the basket, “No. It’s meant to be chewed. It reduces inflammation. I figured it would be useful since I imagine you deal with muscle soreness quite often.”

He smirks, “Amongst other things yes,” With long elegant fingers, he points to the basket, “So- if I chew on this, I should feel relief from any pain I might be experiencing?”

An all too rapid nod comes from you as you continue your explanation, “Well it’s mainly used to treat pain in your muscles and joints. If you’re looking to treat other types of pain, I have other options...”

He shakes his head, his hair swishing to the side as he does, “This should do, thank you.”  

You suspect that he’s done, given that the bark is (annoyingly) free and he’s only seemed to be interested in the offerings thus far so, he surprises you when he asks yet another question.

“Do you have any more of that salve?”

“Of course,” You offer him a smile now that the initial tension is starting to lift, “Did you want a big tin or small tin?”

He purses his lips in thought, looking towards his hands, “What do you recommend?”

Without a second thought, you step towards him and take one of his hands, bringing it closer to your face for inspection.  

The man seems to freeze in place, eyes widening in absolute shock, his own limb betraying him as it goes limp.

His hand displays evidence of the life he lives.  

Rough, calloused and blistered...

His nails are bitten down to a point that almost looks painful but, the thing that stands out the most is how beautiful his hand is to you.  

The strength in his skin is palpable and the indigo veins protruding against his hand are a firm reminder of what he is likely capable of.  

What you don’t notice however, is the utter panic that flushes across his face or the way his eyes dart nervously between you and his hand.

Just as you would during any consultation, you briefly run your fingers over the palm of his hand and up the length of each of his fingers

“Hmm I would recommend the big tin, I think...you have a lot of rough spots but the skin between your callouses is quite smooth so,”  You carefully set his hand back onto the counter and return your eyes back to his, “what that tells me is that your skin is roughened by your environment rather than by an actual lack of moisture.” You slide the big tin towards him, “Apply this to the dryer areas as needed throughout the day but, every night before you go to bed, make sure to put this on. Sleeping with it will allow it to seep into your skin and heal the dryness over time.”  

The warrior’s eyes are transfixed on you and for a moment he is completely speechless, his hand lingering on the counter before hurriedly places them back at his side.  

He can’t understand you and why you just touched him.  

But what’s worse, is he can’t understand why his mouth is suddenly dry.

Or why his skin is on fire...

Or why his heart is thrashing around in his chest.

He clears his throat and nods, “Very good. I’ll be sure to follow your instructions.” He sticks the hand you didn’t touch into his pocket, fishing around for something, “What’s my total?”

“That will be 3.50.” You say with a smile, holding out your hand.

He dispenses his payment into your palm before stowing his items away in his free pocket.

“Thank you.” He grunts, the hand you touched still kind of awkwardly lingering away from his body.

Was he going to wash it as soon as he got the chance?

Did you smell weird?

“Of course, have a nice day. Safe travels.” With a wave, you send him off, missing the small smile that momentarily appears on his face.

You’re genuinely relieved that the encounter is over but, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t intrigue you.

Before you’re able to get your bearings and move on, Jane is rushing over to you frantically.

“What on Earth was that??? Do you know him??? Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?!” She swats your arm, her eyes wide with incredulity.

“Ow!” You grip your arm, “What are you talking about?”

The man has already disappeared back into the crowd but, you’re still attempting to keep your voice at a reasonable level.

Jane does not follow suit.

“You just put your hands on the Tiger!” Jane shrieks causing you to recoil in response, “He could kill you for that! What were you thinking?”

“He’s going to kill me because I touched his hand?” Your brow arches in amusement, as your lips threaten to smile, “I had no idea who he was Jane, I was just helping a paying customer.”

She doesn’t like your answer and quickly swats your arm again, “Y/N this is not a joke! He’s a dangerous man. I nearly fainted when you looked him in his eyes but, then you touched him and-”

“Jane, that’s enough.” The fisherman hisses, gesturing wildly to the crowd of people, “You’re making a scene and he’s still out here somewhere.”

She huffs her hands rushing to smooth out the apron over her dress before rushing a finger into your face, “You won’t be laughing if he shows up at your house with a sword in your face. You need to be careful.”

You smirk at this but otherwise comply, not wishing to fire her up any further, “Thank you for your concern Jane, I’ll make sure to carry my sword around too, you know, just in case.”  

Jane snorts then and rolls her eyes, scurrying back to her cart and mumbling something along the lines of:

“That mouth is going to get you killed...”

You can’t help but giggle.

There’s no doubt that the man you just spoke to was a warrior and, maybe he was some almighty warrior but he other than an intense staring problem, he didn’t scare you at all.

Thankfully, business is booming for the remainder of the day and although you’re thrilled at the money you’ll be taking home, you aren’t looking forward to all the replenishing you have to do.  

The last order of business before heading home is picking a few things for your parents and grabbing the last of the steamed buns for your best friend.

Rachel has lived beside you ever since you can remember. The two of you spent most of your childhood running around the village, causing mini bouts of chaos everywhere you went. Despite the challenges life had brought the both of you, you grew together rather than apart.  

Rachel is the village’s most treasured teacher and she’s been running the school for the past few years. She’s kind of the best and, you have a feeling she’ll be interested to hear about the rather interesting events that had transpired over the course of your day.  

As you turn down the dirt path towards her home, you start to wonder where the Tiger and his fleet would be staying.  

Your village wasn’t run-down but it wasn’t exactly luxurious by any standards.

The rubble near the beginning of the street along with the various empty wooden barrels doesn’t exactly count as décor and, the occasional drunken argument outside the village’s tavern certainly doesn’t add any class to the area but, its home.  

Rachel's house is easy to spot amongst the rest of the street as it’s the only one completely covered in plants.

She’s had a love of greenery for quite sometime and, it’s amongst the many things you two bond over.  

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you immediately reach for the handle and use all your weight to shove the front door open.  

Rachel is sitting on her sofa and despite the fact that she was expecting you, she still jumps at the sound.

“Oh my goodness!” She exclaims “Have you ever heard of knocking???”

You giggle but otherwise ignore her and lean against the door dramatically, “Rachel, you better get one last look at me because, this might be the last time you ever see me.”

She laughs lightly and folds her arms, “What did you do this time? Did you call the apothecary a fraud again?” Wiggling her fingers, she reaches out for the snacks your holding.

“Ok first of all, he is a fraud but no....it’s much much worse.” You shove the snacks into her awaiting hands before flopping down on the armchair, “I touched a man’s hand...”

She freezes, the bun lingering near her mouth, “Alright, now I am officially curious, why is hand touching worse?”

You smirk, “I touched...the Tiger’s hand” You point a finger at her quickly as her lips part, “Before you even make the joke, no it wasn’t a real tiger...it was THE tiger.”

Rachel snorts with laughter before going wide-eyed in shock, “You...wha--the Tiger? THE Tiger??? You TOUCHED the Tiger?!!?!? What were you thinking?!? Oh my god, did he bite? Wait, focus, Rachel---Why did you touch the Tiger?!?”  

Whilst she’s rambling on you burst out in a fit of giggles, snuggling back against the chair, “He came to my cart looking for a good salve for his hands. All I did was do an assessment as I normally do to see what he needed. I don’t understand why everyone is freaking out...he seemed pretty harmless to me.”

She leans forward on the couch, “Harmless? He seemed...harmless?!?” She whispers frantically, “He has personally slain hundreds of men with those very hands!!!  

“Why are we whispering?...”

Rachel returns to normal volume, rolling her eyes “Fine. More like thousands if you count how many his army has obliterated. And you just pawed at him--are you insane? He has killed people for less! At least that’s what the rumors say.”  

You keep giggling, completely unfazed as you make yourself at home, “The rumors also say that he killed an entire village because they played their trumpets for him. I don’t know how credible these rumors are.”

“Well....what was he like then? You cannot drop this information on me and not give me every detail.” She insists, gesturing wildly at you before leaning back and sipping from her mug.

“Uh he was fine. I mean- he was normal I guess, I don’t know. He has really long hair, its blonde- like really blonde. He looks young, way younger than I thought he’d be. He has a big scar over his eye. Jane was practically drooling over him...”

Realization crosses Rachel’s face as she watches you intently. She relaxes back into her chair as a knowing smile spreads across her face, “Ohhhh young, blonde, mysterious...Jane must really HAVE been drooling. Seems like she’s not the only one, though...”

“I mean- the fisherman guys were pretty excited too I guess. I don’t know what the big deal is honestly, I know he’s supposed to be good on the battlefield but they were treating him like he was some kind of king or something.” You narrow your eyes “Are you suggesting I was drooling over him? Because I definitely wasn’t...I even told him to wait his turn in line.” You insist, shifting around on the chair.

Rachel crosses her legs dramatically, steeping her fingers as she observes you, “Was that before or after you found out he was handsome? Hmm?” She smirks again, holding her hands up innocently, “I am implying nothing, I am just NOTICING that you are definitely affected by him. I haven’t seen you impressed by....well, anyone.”

She’s not wrong.

“Hey hey whoa...who said anything about impressed?? I’m not impressed. I’m not impressed at all.”

Rachel eyes you suspiciously”...right...not impressed at all. Well, did you at least hear anything about them? Any word on how long the army will be here? We’ve got to be the safest village in the country as long as they are in town.” Suddenly, she facepalms in realization, “My students will be so distracted as long as they are here.”

“Not impressed. He’s just a man with a scar and sword...” You insist, twiddling your thumbs “I guess they are just refueling, I’m not sure how long they will be here. Jane told me I need to watch my back so, hopefully not for long...” You giggle again, thinking of how excited the schoolchildren will be now that the legendary Tiger is in town, “maybe you can make an assignment out of it...”

She stares off into space for a moment and mutters, “that’s not a bad idea...we could get outside, maybe a soldier could come speak to them? There’s got to be at least one that’s not terrifying?...” Rachel shakes her head, unimpressed with your lack of understanding, “Just a man with a scar and sword—he is the most feared military leader of our generation! And I wouldn’t worry TOO much about watching your back. After all—none of the legends involve the Tiger killing civilians, do they? At the very least his presence here means good business for the village. If you can get the Tiger as a repeat customer I can only imagine the profits you’ll turn at that little stall!” She muses, laugh heartily, “Buy the salve that soothed a beast! I can hear the gossip already...”

You point a finger at her, “I like the way you think. If you ever want to stop educating and enriching the minds of our youth and be my business partner, let me know...” Suddenly the humor within you dissipates as the reality of your situation seems to sink in, “You don’t think I should be worried though right?”

Rachel lets out a short laugh, “Thanks for the offer...” She shakes her head, “As far as this Tiger business is concerned...I don’t think your safety is under any threat. How did he react when you touched him? Did he seem angry?”

“He just froze...” You recall, your eyes unfocusing slightly, “It was kind of weird honestly. I’ve never had anyone do that before. It’s pretty normal to get checked out during an apothecary visit. I guess I wasn’t supposed to look at him either but, how the hell am I supposed to do an exam if I can’t look at his face?”

“Hmmm...that is strange. I’ll be honest, I thought he would have scolded you or pulled away based on the stories. Unless...” Rachel slumps back against her sofa, her face relaxing into a smirk, “...he was just as surprised by you as you were of him.”

You wrinkle your nose, “Ew no. Definitely not.”  

Rachel doesn’t look convinced but you continue nevertheless, suddenly wishing to change the subject.

“He looked nervous I guess- I don’t know. His hand just sort of hung there after I finished. Today was weird...anywayyy-” You nod to the dough between your palms, “How are the buns? Did anything interesting happen in the education world.”

“Oh three boys got in a worm eating contest and threw up on their practice parchment so I could go without that kind of interesting for awhile. The buns are transcendent as usual but you-” She narrows her eyes in your direction, “- are dodging. Why would a general be nervous around you hmm? You said he is young...is he also handsome?”

“Ah god I love kids...” You note with a giggle before shrugging, shrinking back into the chair, “I don’t know. Objectively he- he definitely wasn’t ugly.”

Rachel raises an eyebrow, “I sense there is more to it than that.”

“Fine. He was easily the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life. There! Are you happy now?” You grumble before dramatically staring off into the distance, “Oh to be murdered by the most handsome man alive...how romantic.”

This prompts a twinkling bout of laughter from Rachel who has finally finished the first of her many snacks, “I can think of worse ends my friend. Perhaps that was your only interaction? I am sure he is busy making preparations; too busy to be executing smart-mouthed apothecaries. I wouldn’t fret too much Y/N.”

With you sigh, you accept her analysis, sending a nod her way, “You’re probably right and, that’s probably for the best.” Despite the conviction in your tone, you can feel the disappointment on your face, “Thank you for calling my mouth smart.” You smirk before nodding toward the door, “I should probably head home. My father has a nasty cough and I seriously doubt he’s taken the medicine I left for him.”

Meeting you at the door, Rachel pulls you in for a big hug, “The smartest mouth in town- that's why I keep you around. Give your father my love and tell him, if he gives you a hard time—I will find out!”

You laugh, hugging her tightly, “The second smartest mouth in town...” You insist, “let’s do the tavern this weekend please. The children have been taking all your time and I miss my best friend!”

“Of course! No pack of tiny ruffians can get between me and a night out.”

You pat her shoulder gently before stepping out of the doorframe, “That’s right.” You smile, thankful to have someone like her in your life, “love you, have a good night.”

“Good night, sleep tight...” She sings, slowly closing the door, “don’t let the Tiger bite!” She laughs wildly before slamming the door shut to prevent your retaliation.

She’s a menace.

The walk back home is pleasant, the fall breeze nips at your skin through your sweater but, it feels refreshing against your flushed cheeks.  

Your parents are asleep by the time you return home.  

It’s common for you to arrive well past their bedtime but, despite your lack of contact, they still manage to make you feel loved.

On the kitchen table sits bowl of stew and freshly baked bread, along with a new blanket for the winter.  

Your mom makes a fresh one everywhere with thicker fabric to combat the icy freeze of the winter climate. The stew will be cold but, your heart will be warm and your stomach will be full.  

In truth, these are the only things that matter to you.  

Living simple certainly has it’s drawbacks but overall, you are comforted by it. Your parents raised you to be thankful for the things you have and to only set your sights on obtaining things that truly matter to you. It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have goals but, your parents have always stressed that external success can be fickle and, material possessions only take you so far.  

Being content is truly priceless and, you’re thankful they instilled these values into you.

Climbing into bed, you allow your mind to wander to the man you met today.  

You couldn’t quite understand the legend behind him. Not to say that he wasn’t worthy of such folklore but, it’s more so that you didn’t exactly understand the warnings behind it.  

He didn’t seem scary.

Although, it’s possible his demeanor is something he uses along with his beauty.

It could be that the Tiger lives up his animal comparison.

Beautiful and deadly.

Village gossip shouldn’t keep you awake longer than necessary, you think, it’s time to rest up so that tomorrow’s work day doesn’t feel like a never-ending task.  

With the sound of the whistling wind just outside your home, you slowly close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Your plan for a peaceful nights rest is completely demolished when you feel the frantic hands of your mother shaking you awake.

“Y/N! Wake up! Wake up! Raiders- they are raiders outside, hurry!” She drags the covers off of you, “We have to go!”

In a haphazard blur, you spring to your feet and arm yourself with a few important possessions and your sword.  

Your parents tow behind you as you make your way out of your home.  

The village is in utter chaos; shouting, clanking metal, screaming, amber flames peaking out from above the rooftops.  

You grab your mothers arm, keeping her close to you as you try your best to follow procedures.

Like most smaller villages, your area is equipped with a protocol that will ensure the least amount of damage if there were to be an invasion.

Collect the essentials and gather your loved ones

Arm yourself

Make your way to the town square; there is strength in numbers.

Allow the raiders to take what they want (with the exception of human lives)

Negotiate

Simple in theory but, rarely in practice.

It’s difficult to keep up with a protocol during times of intense stress.

Amidst the chaos, you see Rachel scrambling out of her house, with a bag slung over her shoulder.

You cry out for her, desperately hoping she will hear your voice over the madness,

“Rachel! Over here!”

With wide eyes, she reaches out for your mother’s hand, bowing her head to shield from any possible debris.  

“The army is here, they will protect us.” Your father murmurs solemnly beside you, his face stoic and rid of any bit of positivity

This could end very badly.  

The four of you rush into the town square, trying your best to remain calm throughout the screaming, back up against a wall. Your grip tightens on your mothers hand as you spot the tents of the armed guests currently residing in your village.

The raiders continue their plundering throughout the town accompanied by the sounds of glass breaking and shouting.  

Suddenly, there is a different sound: the clanking of swords. Briefly, you can see glimpses of armor peeking out of homes, the sight causing your eyes to widen.

“Look!”

Rachel and your parents crane their necks to see what you’re pointing out as the sounds coming from within your village begin to change.

Grunting, groaning, more clanking swords and a bit of shouting shoot out of the main street like fireworks.

“Clear the path!” An unfamiliar voice shouts and it’s then you can see what’s going on.

The raiders have been captured thanks to the ominous group of tourists that arrived yesterday.

Oddly enough, you don’t even remember seeing them leave their tents and it makes you wonder how the hell they managed to move so quickly undetected.  

There are several men, dressed in black and gold armor, dragging the raiders by their shirts to the center of town square. One of them is a tall, doe eyed looking man with shaggy brown hair and biceps that could likely snap a neck if they so desired. He has his sword to the back of one of the raiders who scuffles along on his knees to meet with the rest of his captured teammates.  

As the rest of the soldiers file in, another leader of the troop, tall and equally broad, gestures to Bambi with the biceps.

“Jungkook-ah! Bring the leader to the center; let our general deal with him.”

Jungkook does just that, quickly the toe of his boot into the back of the raider and jerking his head to the center of the plaza, “You heard him- move.” He grunts and the raider reluctantly shuffles forward.

Your fellow villagers are reasonably alarmed but, they all seem to freeze in place as they watch the show unravel before them.

This is already more excitement than your village has had in ages and, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t eating it up.

The man who has now been identified as Jungkook, steps away from the raider, still pointing his sword at him, a smug smirk on his face, “You know for a master thief, you were far too easy to catch. Lucky for me, I made a bet with my brothers here that I would catch you in 10 minutes,” Jungkook walks back towards the man, entangling his fingers in the roots of his hair before tugging backwards, “, and according to the clock tower, it only took me 8.”  

Beside you, Rachel seems to swallow back her surprise before subconsciously starting to fan her face,  

“Goodness, he really is something huh?”

Despite the tense nature of the situation, her demeanor makes you giggle,  

“Stop drooling over the calvary...”

She smacks you playfully which causes your father to shush both of you, a moment which reminds you of your schoolyard days.

A bit of immaturity is actually refreshing after the events of this morning.

“Jungkook-ssi,” A voice bellows throughout the plaza, sending a chill down your spine, “What have I told you about placing bets on our captors huh?”

As the voice grows louder, you see him: the Tiger, stepping out from the main street, his long platinum hair flowing freely in the wind. His hand brandishes a sword, one that most certainly possesses the ability to inflict some serious harm.  

Sheepishly, Jungkook smirks, releasing the man’s hair roughly and stepping back to his original spot, his sword posing to strike.

“Sorry hyung, this one was just too easy. I saw him skirting the perimeter last night, I know it would be a sure win once I saw his technique.”

So that’s how the army was able to move so quickly; they already anticipated this attack.

The Tiger chuckles darkly, his eyes alight with pure delight, “Aish- what am I going to do with you people hm?”  

He moves like his name; slow, deliberate, deadly- you know that you’re about to witness an execution and you aren’t sure if you can stomach the sight, even if these raiders deserve it.

Its your turn to swallow back your reaction to him which doesn’t go unnoticed by your best friend standing beside you.

“Now look who’s drooling...” She teases, giggling as you playfully shove your elbow into her side.

The crowd is dangerously still, hanging on each syllable the Tiger speaks whilst his men, six other soldiers roughly his size, watch intently.

The rest of the raider clan are being held captive by the remainder of the fleet, bowing their heads in shame and fear but, the leader seems unaffected by their defeat.

“You lot aren’t men.” The man spits, his accent thick,  “you’re narcissistic little boys who like to play dress up. You’re cowards, hiding behind your swords, killing everything that stands in your way. You have no idea how the other half live. You have no honor.”

There are gasps throughout the crowd then as your village grows shocked at the way he’s spoken to the Tiger.

If you had any hope that this wouldn’t end violently, it’s been squashed by the time the leader finishes his sentence.

The Tiger however, merely chuckles again, a light smirk on his carnation lips,

“It’s odd that a man who earns his keep by stealing from others would have the authority to lecture my men and I about honor.” He kisses his teeth and slowly raises his sword to brush against the man’s cheek, “Look at all these poor people hm? You've terrified them. Your lack of intelligence isn’t their burden to bear now is it? But you have made it their problem; ripped them from their homes, terrorized their children, their livelihoods and, all because you’re too incompetent to learn your own trade.”

The Tiger’s words infuriate him and the next thing you know, he’s lunging off the ground towards the Tiger, a snarl arising on his mouth.

It prompts your hands to fly to your face and your feet to nearly trip over themselves as you brace for the inevitable fight.

But it doesn’t come.  

With one swoop of his arm, the Tiger has the leader knocked to the floor and underneath his leather boot. Jungkook has reacted quickly as well, his arm raising in the air to slice his sword through the man’s body. With one twitch of his hand however, the Tiger stops Jungkook from following through,

“See? You can’t do things like that my friend. Because if you do, my big friend here with the sword will slice your greasy head in two.” The Tiger smirks again, before turning his head over his shoulder, “You folks wouldn’t want to spend the day cleaning blood of your beautiful plaza now would you?”

Overexcited villagers quickly shout various commentary at him,

“Kill him!”

“Cut his head off!”

“Make him pay!”

The Tiger chuckles once more, raising his brows as the man struggles beneath his boot, “Well, I guess you’re lucky they aren’t in charge of your punishment...” He looks up towards the remainder of his fleet, nodding his head at the other prisoners, “Namjoon, Jin: ensure that none of these men are here against their will. If the rest of you are here by choice, I suggest you make yourselves disappear into the forest before I allow these fine people to get ahold of you.”

Immediately, the Tiger’s fleet begin following his orders and take the men away towards their tents. As they walk out of the plaza, only Jungkook, the Tiger and the clan leader remain.  

You notice Jungkook scan the crowd then, peering out at the eager faces watching the show he is willingly apart of. Very briefly but noticeably, his eyes land on your best friend and as they do, they seem to linger.

He looks curious, almost boyish in a way as his ways seem to memorize her face but before Rachel even realizes what’s going on, his eyes quickly return to the raider.  

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it. Don’t be a coward, I can’t listen to you ramble any longer.” The man growls which prompts the Tiger to push his foot down a little harder upon his back.

“I’m not your executioner, thief. Your fate resides with the Queens.” He explains, matter of factly before jerking his head towards Jungkook, “Put him in the portable cell. I’ll send a notice to the council that we have a criminal that needs to be dealt with.”

Jungkook nods, eagerly crossing the bit of plaza and kneeling down to restrain the man with handcuffs.

He grips the chain linking them and heaves him upwards so he’s standing between the two men.  

“I’ll hose him off first,” Jungkook wrinkles his nose in disgust, “I don’t want him stinking up our camp.”

“Fuck you-” The man spits, jerking his wrists in Jungkook’s grip which then causes the Tiger to raise his sword once again.

“Behave yourself, thief.” He commands, his eyes darkening for the first time, “I’m assuming if you’ve heard stories of my fleet, you are privy to the fact that we don’t miss our target. Please don’t give me a reason to live up to my name.”

With that, the two men drag off the clan leader towards the rest of their fleet, not bothering to look back at the dozens of people they just saved.

They ignore the applause, the gratitude, the pleas for them to return and feast.

You have to admit that you’re shocked.  

The supposedly wicked and ruthless Tiger sure seems to have quite a bit of restraint and diplomacy.

“Did he- did he really just let him go? Unharmed?”

Rachel asks a very good question and it seems to be the one on your parents minds as well.

“It’s extremely odd. I was fully prepared to witness an execution, he would have been within his right.” Your father notes, his eyes still trained on the center of the plaza.

Generals have a certain level of freedom with the prisoners they choose to capture; they are expected to have good judgement and carry out punishments if necessary.

In essence, the Tiger had every bit of authority to end that mans life and, given that he an eager crowd behind him, it genuinely perplexes you.

“Organized raids come with an automatic life sentence, the leaders are usually executed within a few days of their trial.” Your mother notes and it’s then that Rachel notices your silence.

“Well I think it’s safe to say that you didn’t make it on his hit list. You can’t be worse than a lead raider...” She grins, knowing full well that your confusion also comes with an annoying amount of curiosity.  

She also knows that you plan on finding a way to speak with him again.  

And she is absolutely right.

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

“Should I say hi to Jungkook for you? Ask if he’s betrothed?” You tease and Rachel promptly throws balled up dress your way.

You went to her house after the excitement in the town square to bake a batch of fresh bread for the Tiger’s fleet.

Bread is increasingly hard to come by these days due to a crop shortage in the northern region so despite what people may think, most military diets consist of salted meat and corn.  

Doughy, fluffy, cheesy, rosemary bread is a luxury.

“I have a feeling you’ll be preoccupied with your mission to court the Tiger.” She retorts but a deep frown comes over her then, as she wraps the last loaf in parchment paper, “Are you sure you should be doing this? Waltzing over to a tent full of dangerous soldiers doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“I want to thank them.” You insist, loading your basket with the rest of the loaves, glancing up at your worried friend, “All the village ever talks about is how ruthless they are, how cruel they are known to be but, the reality is: they saved us. It must be frustrating to refuel just as any other fleet would and have people gossip about you or fear you unnecessarily. I’m not planning on staying for tea or anything, I just want to show my appreciation.”

Rachel raises her brows, “That’s all hm?”

You nod, “Yep.” Your lips pop with the sound of the p and Rachel remains unconvinced.

“This has nothing to do with the Tiger?”

“Of course not.” Your answer tumbles past your lips far too quickly and, it causes your friend to grin knowingly at you.

“I know that look-”

“Ugh what look?”

“The look. That one-” She points at you, “You’re about to do something you know you shouldn’t.”

Her smile is far too contagious and her knowledge of you surpasses anyone you’ve ever known in your life.  

She has your number and there really is no point in lying to her.

“Fine, ok maybe it has a little something to do with the Tiger-” You smirk, trying to stifle the giggle that threatens your disposition, “Don’t laugh at me!”

Rachel’s twinkling laughter fills the room as she rounds the counter. Placing her hands on your shoulders, she smiles fondly at you, “Just be careful ok? I know he intrigues you and honestly I’m not at all surprised but, don’t let your curiosity get in the way of your safety. That’s the most important thing.”  

“I won’t.” You promise, smiling back at her, placing your hands on hers, “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

Rachel helps you out once again, insuring you have everything you need before her soft voice is answering a question you asked moments earlier.

“And uh about that Jungkook boy-”

You smirk, “He’s definitely not a boy, did you see his muscles? He looks like he could bench press a mountain lion.”

She grows flustered, “No, I didn’t see any muscles, I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“Oh so you also didn’t notice him staring at you in the plaza today right?”

Rachel’s eyes widen, “Wait he was?” She clears her throat, amending her eagerness as you giggle, “He definitely wasn’t staring at me don’t be ridiculous. What I was going to say-”

“What you were going to say is that ‘no Y/N, I don’t want you to check on Jungkook’s marital status directly but, should you happen to come across his left hand, let me know whether or not you see a shiny band around his finger, not that I would care or anything. Because, I totally don’t have the hots for him.’ “

Her mouth opens and then closes like a fish before she playfully nudges you through her doorway, “Shut up.”

With a laugh and a few parting words, you are off to visit the tent of your village's heroes.  

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous.

But you’d also be lying if you said you were nervous for the right reasons.

The concept of walking into the basecamp of a supposedly elite and ruthless fleet is one thing but, talking to someone you find attractive?  

Absolutely terrifying.

Your presence is immediately noted by the men inside the camp.

Two of them are seated at a table outside of one of the tents, hands and teeth full of meat, their motions freezing in place as they see you.

As you pass by one of their horses, you notice of them is speaking with a group of raiders.  

The conversation seems amicable, suggesting that many of the raider clan was indeed in your village against their will.

You approach the main but, before you are able to make ring the bell on the outside, you are crashing chest first into a very firm and very broad chest.

“Holy-” The voice sounds familiar and as you look up, you are meet with the bambi with biceps himself: Jungkook.

“Hello I-” You attempt to begin but his panicked voice interrupts you.

“Yah hyung??? Uh there’s a-” He swallows thickly stepping away from you, “There’s a girl here!”

The word seems foreign on his tongue and his behavior genuinely surprises you.

Where was the cocky warrior from this morning, brandishing a sword and placing bets on his captors?

“Jungkook, for the last time- we don’t use that word. We say young lady or woman...” Another voice, one you don’t recognize fades into your scope of hearing before pushing open the fabric of the tent. He is arguably just as beautiful as the other men, tall, dark haired, buff- as if he would be anything else.

“Oh, hello. Are you...” The man narrows his brows as he looks towards the group of raiders speaking with one of his counterparts, “Are you with the group or?”

You shake your head, your basket swinging when you turn back towards the village, “Oh no, no I’m from the village. My name is Y/N Y/L/N...” You bow your head slightly, “I came here to bring you this,” You gesture to the basket, “It’s fresh bread. I wanted to thank you for saving my people today.”

You feel the need to rush out your explanation as the rest of the fleet continues to stare at you. In fact, the way they are looking at you is rather unnerving.

It isn’t disrespectful just intrusive; they are looking at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head.

“You-” The man before you cocks his head, looking befuddled, “You came here to- thank us?”

“Well yes, I know bread is hard to come by and I figured you could use a pick-me-up after your fight this morning.”

He smiles now but his incredulity doesn’t change as he takes the basket from your hands, “It’s warm.” He notes, “Did you bake this recently?”

“Yes I baked it today, just now actually uh-” You decide to speak candidly now since the possible threat margin seems to be closing, “You look confused.”

Jungkook is practically hiding behind the man you’re addressing and it takes a large part of you not to laugh at his behavior.

“Forgive me.” He chuckles, “We aren’t exactly used to hospitality. Most villagers avoid us like the plague, it probably has to do with our General but regardless.” He bows his head, “We appreciate the gesture. I’ll make sure to pass along your gratitude to him once he returns.”  

“Oh is he not here? I was hoping to thank him myself.” You try and mask the disappointment in your tone, not wishing to come across as stranger than you already did.

The man shakes his head, “No. He often takes a walk after an invasion; gotta make sure the perimeter is secure.” He smiles and you are taken aback by how white his teeth were, “My name is Seokjin, I’m the outreach expert on the fleet and unofficial chef. I promise your bread will be put to good use, it’s been months since we’ve had any decent carbs.”  

His comment makes you smile and you are delighted that his demeanor is so welcoming.

“I’m sorry to heart that. Will you be in town long? I can try to set you up with a few more baskets before your departure?”

Seokjin chuckles warmly before snorting as Jungkook paws at the basket, “Easy.” He admonishes but its too late, Jungkook already has half a loaf down in his mouth, his chest rumbling with the sound of his groan.  

“Oh my god hyung, it’s so good...”

Seokjin looks disgusted with him but hands him the basket anyway, nodding to the rest of the fleet, “Share. Make sure you save a loaf for Yoongi and I.”

Jungkook happily obliges but not before turning towards you and bowing, “Uh thanks for the- for the bread....”

His sentence is choppy and over before it even begins as he goes bounding off in the direction of his team.

“Pardon him, he’s been in the army since he was fourteen. We haven’t done an amazing job at socializing him but, he’s getting better. He’s still a bit antsy around women though.” Seokjin chuckles, fondness in his eyes, “Ah but to answer your question, yes. We've decided to set up here for a few weeks to train our new recruits. I would love to more of this bread if it’s not too much trouble.”

You smile, waving him off, attempting to conceal your happiness at the news he’s just delivered, “Nonsense, I’d be happy to bake some more.”

“Excellent!” He chirps, clasping his hands together, “I’m sure Yoongi would be happy to know we’ve finally manage to contact with a villager. It’s been an issue for us, stories spread like wildfire you know? And just like wildfire, they tend to do more harm than good.”

“And Yoongi is?”

Seokjin chuckles, “Ah I believe you’d know him better as...” He flutters his fingers dramatically, “ the Tiger.”

Yoongi.

So that was his name.

“Oh yes,” You amend, “I’ve certainly heard of him but, I prefer to make my own judgements rather than succumb to the gossip.”

He smirks, “That’s very noble of you Y/N. I for one,” He places a hand on his chest, throwing a wink your way, “, live for the gossip.”

Your meeting with Seokjin ends soon after that with a promise that you would return with more bread.  

As much as you wanted to rush back to Rachel’s house to inform of your meeting with the ‘most dangerous fleet in the world’, you remind yourself that school is in session; a necessary but annoying inconvenience.

However, there are plenty of ways you plan on keeping busy for the remainder of the day and one of them involves visiting the river to collect more herbs for your remedies.  

You obviously weren't able to sell your wares today as the marketplace was still littered with evidence of the robbery.  Your parents had insisted you take the day off to restock and recuperate whilst they helped the village leaders clean up.

Reluctantly, you agreed and you are now very grateful that you had.

The river has always been one of your favorite places. It was rich, green, buzzing with life and, always a few degrees colder than your village. Surrounded by mossy trees that seem to stretch as high as the clouds, the river is encased with life. Rabbits, squirrels, tortoises, frogs and a plethora of birds all coral in the area the river resides in whilst bears, big cats, wolves and monkeys hide behind the dense forest. It’s any apothecary’s paradise as it is also the residence of any herbs capable of growing in damp areas.  

Angelica, Blue Vervain, Marshmallow, Stinging Needle and more: the river is your one stop shop for so many of your essential ingredients.

Today you’re after a particular herb though and armed with another woven basket, you make your way towards the large bushels of it growing at the base of a tree trunk.

Valerian is an essential herb in your arsenal and due to its popularity, it’s something you’re consistently having to restock.  

Gathering it carefully, ensuring you don’t disturb the root of the plant.

You are so enthralled with your current task that you don’t even notice that you are no longer alone.

“Is this where the tree bark grows?”

You jump nearly six feet out of your skin, whipping your head around to face your intruder.

Standing before you is the myth himself, the Tiger or as you’ve recently learned: Yoongi.

He’s still in his armor from earlier, his long tendrils pulled back away from his face into a low ponytail. Between his lips, which are curving slightly, is a piece of the bark he had taken from your cart the day prior.

He is chewing it as you instructed.

“You of all people should know not to ambush someone like that...” You breath, placing a hand on your chest, “I could have wacked you with this basket or something.”

He just smirks, “I’ve had worse.” He notes, taking the bark from between his teeth, “I’m sorry I frightened you though, I didn’t expect to see anyone here.”

“Likewise.” You retort, nodding your head at the bark, “Is it helping?”

He shrugs, “Too early to tell I suppose but, it’s tending to my oral fixation so, either way it has a purpose.”

You straighten up a bit more and smooth out your dress, “It will work, it just takes a bit of time.” You assure him before adjusting the herbs in your basket, “I came by your tent earlier to offer my thanks for what you and your men did today, your outreach coordinator Seokjin told me he’d pass along the message but-”

“You did what?”

His tone doesn’t entirely lean one way or the other and you quickly grow worried that you offended him.

“I brought a basket of bread to uh-” You swallow thickly, meeting the intensity of his gaze, “to your camp as a thank you for saving my village.”

Several emotions flicker across his face before he settles on surprise, “I see. Were they polite?”

You can’t help but smile, this day truly has been full of surprises and, Yoongi’s demeanor is only adding to that list.  

“I only had the privilege of meeting Seokjin and well- I kind of met Jungkook but, he seemed a little-”

“Awkward?” Yoongi smirks

“A little.” You amend, “But both of them were very polite. They explained that they often don’t receive any hospitality on stops like this; I was very sorry to hear that.”

Yoongi’s teeth seem to catch the inside of his cheek as he nods curtly, “There’s no need for apologies. Hospitality is welcome but, never expected. I try to teach my men that we should never expect gratitude for what we do as it so often comes with a price.”

“I suppose gratitude should be offered situationally then, there was very little draw back to what you did today. Our village is privy to raiders; maybe if word gets around that you all were in town, that might prevent this from happening again.”

He purses his lips before nodding in consideration, “I see you’re point. Regardless of its necessity, gratitude is always welcome: especially when free food is involved.”

His comment makes you giggle and your laughter makes his lips itch in a way they never have.

“I wholeheartedly agree with that. I get a surprising amount of baked goods sent my way doing what I do so, I’ll have no problem dolling out the gratitude while you all are here.”  

Yoongi’s brows knit in confusion, “Do you people often pay you in baked goods?”

Laughter flows freely out of your mouth then and you shake your head at his question, “Definitely not, I sell my goods for currency as does any obedient member of society,” At this Yoongi smirks again, he likes your wit, a lot, “but I do receive muffin baskets, cakes, pies and whatnot from happy customers. They’re mainly from women whose husbands have taken my ginseng remedy.”

His curiosity blooms, “And why is that?”

You feel a bit of heat rushing to your cheeks, “Ginseng enhances uh- drive, often times it can be used a stimulant to promote you know-” You’re hoping Yoongi will put the pieces together but instead his eyes remain expectant, “passion.”

The word makes Yoongi straighten up a bit and in an effort to look casual, he nods quickly and hums a little too loudly.

“Ah yes. Of course. Well, as I said- free food is free food right?” He wagers, his fingers rubbing at the bit of bark.

Its your turn to smirk now but, you quickly change the subject when you ask, “Is the leader of the clan secure? I didn’t see him when I passed through your camp.”

He clears his throat, bringing the bark back towards his mouth, “He is. I have him locked up just behind the trees so he isn’t able to influence the new recruits. He had an alarming number of unwilling participants within his group, many of them claimed to be brought there with the threat of physical harm.”

You kiss your teeth and shake your head, “I don’t understand that kind of behavior. I understand that sometimes desperate people do desperate things but, to exert power or harm over another person without a viable cause...it just makes no sense to me.”

He’s intrigued now and as he brings the bark back to his lips, his brow knit with curiosity, “Hm. So do you think there is a justification to steal but not to commit violence?”

You can’t figure out why your opinion would matter to him but, you sure as hell aren’t going to question the length of this conversation.

“I think that some people believe they have no other choice but to steal. Wealth and power aren’t possible without a poor man to stand on, to oppress- I don’t support the idea of taking what doesn’t belong to you but, I could see why people are driven to do so. People are growing tired of being the poor man. Senseless violence isn’t something I could find a justification for. What the raiders often do, is both so I guess-” You hesitate, “I’m conflicted.”

Yoongi is captivated by your explanations, not because they are particularly ground breaking but, because they are particularly human. You aren’t afraid to discuss the complexity of life nor are you afraid to admit when certain things confound you.

“That’s a fair assessment. Do you agree with today’s outcome?”

Your smile returns, as you adjust the basket on your arm again, “I did. Especially because it seemed to surprise everyone, myself included.”

His lips return to his smirk, “Why? Because I didn’t behead him?”

“Exactly.” You breathe out a laugh before continuing,  “I for one was shocked to see you deal with the situation without your trusty viper...”  

His face turns to one of incredulity, “Oh my- you're not serious are you? Do people genuinely think I keep a viper on me at all times? Do they have any idea how unpractical that is?”

Yoongi’s reaction sends you into a fit of giggles and the sound makes his lips itch again.

He decides he enjoys the sound very much.

“I’m sure you’ve set a few people straight after this morning,” You offer, wiping a bit of moisture from the corner of your eye, “I doubt the rumors will repopulate the same way after you leave.”

“What do you think of them?”

“The rumors?”

“They’re entertaining.” You shrug, “But I don’t like to make assumptions about people unless I’ve met them, not even scary and supposedly cruel generals like yourself.”

The ghost of a smile shows itself on Yoongi’s mouth and his eyes seem to glimmer, pleased with your answer.

“I wish more people had that mindset.”  

It’s all he says before promptly dropping the subject again, nodding in the direction behind him, “I should probably head back to camp. I have a feeling that the longer I am away, the smaller my chances of getting any of that bread become.”

“You’re probably right, I have to be back before sunset anyway.” Your parents don’t like it when you’re out at the river after dark, “It was very nice meeting you Yoongi. I hope you enjoy the bread.”

His lips as he realizes something vital, “I’m sure I will. Forgive me, I don’t remember catching your name...”

At his observation, you extend your hand towards his, “Oh of course, my name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Without looking down, he grasps your hand gently as if he were afraid to break it, “Y/N- I’ll remember it.” He promises unnecessarily but it still sends a flutter through your heart, “Get home safe.”

When he releases your hand, you step back towards the bushel of Valerian before smiling once more,  

“You too.”

As Yoongi departs from the river, he smirks to himself.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be the routine stop he had planned on.

Perhaps this would be so much more.

[codename-adler]

foxes + onesies (1/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Allison  

in the aftermath of the “mob war”, Allison still sees Betsy for counselling, mostly to cope with Seth’s death still, her ED and to process her childhood and teenage trauma

Betsy teaches her a lot about self-care (and not in Allison’s traditionnal definitions of self-care, which are: bottle it up, act out, burn through 500$ in clothes, repeat)

all in all, Allison has a lot to come to terms with by the end of the semester, and Betsy won’t be there as much in the summer, so she leaves her with a little list of self-care tips to look at when Ally feels overwhelmed

- pick a time to make yourself some tea, or try out some new ones and tell me about it next time

- try drawing with those wonderful pencils of yours, but in different art styles (because yes, Allison does have a fashion sketchbook. but silly doodles? abstract drawings? anatomy sketches? she never tried)

- watch movies by yourself, and for yourself, Allison

- since you love shopping and spending so much, find yourself a cozy thing, a soft thing that will only be for yourself, when you need to be reminded to love yourself and be gentle with yourself

those were the suggestions that stuck to Ally the most

so the next time she goes out to the mall with Dan and Renee, she doesn’t expect to find anything like Betsy suggested

she does look for some herbal tea at David’s Tea, and ends up getting some hibiscus + rose water green tea

but then they go to Walmart (she wants to gag)

fucking Walmart

the girls need some pads and tampons, and the gatorades are on sale (because all the Foxes, as a treat for winning the Championship and bc they all want to stay close after the hard year they endured, got to stay on campus for the whole summer (idc if it’s unrealistic, sue me, that’s how i roll))

for once, Allison follows Dan and Renee, without looking at anything, without touching anything (what if she catches it??)

then Renee wants to look for socks

that’s when Ally passes a rack of colorful onesies

one brushes the tip of her elbow, and wow it’s so soft

not at all the quality material she expected

she stops in her tracks, lets the girls go on to the underwear section, and really looks at the pajamas

there are lots of unicorns, and pandas, a few mouses, and two giraffes

bright yellow, light-spotted giraffes, with their little ears and antlers and all

the sewn-on eyes are closed and have cute little lashes details

Allison imagines herself wearing it and feels utterly stupid

but- she keeps running her fingers through the synthetic velvety material, mesmerized by its softness

she thinks back on Betsy’s list

the folks would absolutely loathe it. the high school bitches too. God, even Seth would say it’s fucking stupid. Nobody should ever be seen wearing that…

But I wouldn’t have to worry about my man-shoulders in it… or my stomach… or my thighs… I could even go braless, or wear just that cute little bralette I haven’t got the courage to wear yet… and I think Renee would agree it’s cute…

then she hears Betsy’s soothing voice in her head

But do you like it?

Yes. Yes I do.

and that’s how Allison takes down the onesie, cashes out and waits for the two other girls outside the Walmart entrance, feeling silly, and jitty, yet quite happy with herself

back at Fox Tower, she washes it immediately, only to stuff it back under her bed

it stays there for quite a few weeks, until it’s almost time for school to start again, her last year at PSU

the boys are out at the beach, Andrew and Neil are God-knows-where, Renee is meeting a friend, and Dan is out shopping with her Sisters

Ally is alone, and lonely

she’s craving something, something that feels close to how one of her nanny used to take care of her hair before bedtime, telling her stories of folklore around the world

guessing that nobody will be back before sundown, she reaches underneath her bed and takes out the giraffe onesie

she gets rid of her high-waisted skinny jeans, her silky cropped blouse and her high-heeled sandals in favor of Seth’s old Marvel boxer shorts, her baby blue bralette she still hasn’t worn, and the infamous onesie

and wow, it’s so baggy

as she buttons up the front, it almost feels like being wrapped up in a giant, fluffy pancake

she giggles to herself, like a little girl

until she goes to look at herself in the mirror, where she straight-up bursts out laughing

she feels so, so light

she puts on a pair of Renee’s fuzzy socks with the sticky soles and leaves her bedhair as it is

she spends the rest of the day on the couch, watching Barbie movies from the hidden collection she has in her closet while painting her real nails in rainbow colors

she makes herself a big cup of the tea she bought, and lights an ocean-breeze candle

between Barbie as the Island Princess and Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus, she even goes so far as going at the end of the hallway to buy some sugar-free gummy bears from the vending machine, completely forgetting herself…

of course, this is when the boys, including Andrew and Neil, are coming back from their day outdoors

she stops dead in her tracks when she turns around and sees them, a *giraffe* caught in the headlights

the boys only notice her because she stops moving so abruptly

she’s speechless

the boys, not so much

Kevin: *oblivious to the onesie situation* So you’re the one hoarding the healthy gummies. Dude give back some.

Matt: Oh, hi Ally… *raises his pointer finger, opens and closes his mouth in awe, lowers his arm back down* Cute?

Andrew: *his face says he doesn’t give a shit, but he’ll let the image make its way to his heart eventually* *very sneakily snaps an adorable pic for the group chat*

Neil: *whispering to Andrew, genuinely confused*  I thought these were for babies? Do we qualify as babies? Why is Ally dressed like a baby, Andrew?

Nicky: BITCHHHHHH I shoulda made a bet on THAT!

Aaron: Well fuck. 60 points to Hufflepuff for cuteness.  Ugh. I can’t believe I said “cute”. Jesus, I wanna vomit. Eurk.

Allison slowly makes her way back to her dorm room without a word, her cheeks flushed and her eyes to the ground, clutching her bag of gummies

she hasn’t felt this vulnerable since Seth’s passing

an hour later, she’s still hiding under her blankets as Renee and Dan file in

of course, they saw the photo posted to their group chat, and they heard everything from Matt and Nicky

Renee gets under the covers with Ally, and Dan proceeds to show off the goods she got with a very silly runway walk

they don’t say anything, until Neil sends a new picture on the GC

it’s a printed version of Andrew’s picture, pinned to the locker room wall with all the other photos they’ve accumulated

and everybody in the chat is dying of cuteness overload

Ally’s got that look of a toddler caught red handed, so open and genuine and surprised; her mouth is slighlty opened in an “o” shape; her mismatched fuzzy socks are peeking from underneath the bunched up fabric at her ankles; the hood is pulled up and slouching over her head…

but nobody, nobody, is making fun of her

we’re talking about the Foxes here. they never pull their punches.

so this? unexpected. shocking. astounding.

and right at the bottom of the picture, in shaky black marker: Baby Ally

with a poorly drawn heart next to it

in Neil’s unmistakeable handwriting

she cries

and never again is she ashamed of wandering around in her giraffe onesie

and if from then on, many Foxes gifts are soft things for her, well, that is called character development

[godofplumsandthunder]

Twisted Fate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Cancer, both Bucky and reader have cancer, Major Character death, brief hospital terms mainly reffering to cancer treatment. References to amputation.

A/N: This was written for the lovely @eurynome827​ 2k celebration. I got a lovely quote of lyrics from Hadestown, which I wanted to do something that was based off of the musical, but I couldn’t figure anything out. Then I had a big anniversary come up and this was came out instead. It’s very angsty, I cried a lot, and well I hope you like it.

The low, steady hum of the fan fills the awkward silence. The psychiatrist, newly assigned to the case, still doesn’t feel comfortable. “Case number 32557038” was widely known in the health care center. The whispers and rumors floated their way down the hall, past the copy machine, filling the office with this chilling tale. Some regarded it as a terrible series of bad luck, others thought it was an act of some benevolent God, pouring his rage on this poor couple. Dr. Breynord, after reading the notes on the file, Breynord knew that this case was perhaps the worst case of bad luck she ever saw in her career, and, maybe it was her stubbornness or naive belief in medicine, but Dr. Breynord was going to help this poor man get the peace he so desperately needs.

“James,” Dr. Breynord’s voice breaks the silence of the office, “I’ve read what my colleagues had to say about your case, but, I’d like you to tell me what has happened if you feel comfortable.”

Shifting in his seat, James sighs, with a small nod of the head, he starts at the beginning.

Bucky Barnes was used to change. Granted, it was other people’s change, but it was still change nonetheless. The poor folks that sat next to him each clinic visit changed, his caretakers changed, it seemed as if the whole world changed around him, while he was stuck in some perpetual hell. Every day dragged out in the same dull, and nauseating feeling, and at times, Bucky felt he was in an endless loop, forsaken by some deity he didn’t believe in. But, for however long Bucky has left in this fallen and cruel world, he’ll remember when you walked in, shattering the miserable purgatory he was banished to, he’ll always remember the day you changed his life.

It happened during his first transfusion session after his surgery. His arm, still wrapped in bandage, IV tubing leading straight to his heart, pumped his body full of liquids, as he waited for the toxic poison to enter his body. He always found it ironic, the “medicine” that was supposed to save his life, that was too dangerous for the nurses to touch with their bare hands, was willingly flushed into his body. Hair loss, mouth sores, and muscle aches were the better side effects. He can’t help but think about what is coming, especially as he sees his nurse, Thor, come over with the freshly made batch of poison [STRIKE THROUGH], chemotherapy as his doctor would want him to call it. Hanging the bag on his IV pole, Thor looks over at Bucky, giving him the “I’m going to go on a rant about something you should care about” look. 

“Now James, we’re getting a new patient today. It’s their first transfusion. They’re going to be sitting in the pod next to you. I swear to the gods, I best not hear another complaint about your attitude.”

“Me? An attitude? No, I think you got me confused with someone else. I’m the brightest little ball of sunshine here!” Bucky can’t help but chuckle. It’s not his fault he wasn’t a “warrior”, blasting “Fight Song” 24/7, as he sips on a kale smoothie with coffee suppositories shoved up his ass. T

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Barnes,” Thor shakes his head as he cleans up his station, “don’t think I won’t throw your bald ass out of here. That cancer sob story, won’t work on me.” 

Bucky goes back to his phone, already feeling the effects of the chemo. No matter how many anti-nausea meds they fed him, Cisplatin always makes him sick. So, he had the right to act like a grumpy old grandpa. While he scrolls through his social media feed, seeing all the accomplishments, brags, and just shit of his friends, Bucky hears your sniffles, as you make your way down to the end of the Oncology clinic, taking a seat next to Bucky. Even if Thor hadn’t given him the heads up, he would have known you were fresh meat. One infusion, his mom asked him how he could tell. It was easy for Bucky, it all had to do with the eyes. A cancer diagnosis shatters you. It kills all hope, light, and goodness that’s in you. You turn completely numb to the world, to the point where your own wailing and sobs feel muted. Bucky saw all of that in your eyes. Behind the puffy, redness, saw the shards of hope, the fear of the unknown. Before you could reach your seat, you stumble, spilling your possessions that you carried all over the floor. Bucky watches quietly as you quickly pick up your items, collapsing into the chair next to him. 

“Sorry I couldn’t give you a hand, only have the one,” he wiggles his stump, and he's met with silence. Talk about a rough crowd, he thinks, his nephews love his stumpy jokes. “So,” Bucky continues, “what are you in for? I’m a sarcoma, in the arm.” You sniffle as you turn your body to look at this new man.

“Leukemia,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper. It takes a real effort to say it out loud because then it makes all of this real.

“That’s good then,” the “sarcoma” man says to you, and Bucky can see the confusion, and pain on your face.

“How is that good? How is cancer good?”

Using his arm, Bucky points around the room, giving you a tour of the room.

“See him, that’s Riley, he has an inoperable brain tumor. That young kid, with the Switch? His name is Peter, his body is chemo resistant. So yeah, leukemia is good. If you haven’t learned it yet, not all cancers are made equal.”

“Oh,” you barely make out. What were you supposed to say to that? 

=====

Much to Bucky’s surprise, he actually enjoyed having your company. Your treatments lined up and so you both got to know each other well. Bucky enjoyed having someone close to his age that understood his problems. And it also didn’t hurt that you had such a great personality, you got Bucky’s dark humor (and it went without saying that you understood it was his way of coping), and you looked great. Not many people can rock a bald head. And Bucky has seen his fair share, and he can say with confidence, you rocked it. Not covering it up with caps, scarves, or wigs. Because why should you hide away? For the first time since his diagnosis, Bucky had a purpose. So, while his immune system allowed him to leave the house, he picked up a bouquet of fake flowers (neutropenia life, am I right?) and a box of chocolates to take with him to the next transfusion. When he got to the clinic, Bucky was a bit worried to see that you weren’t next to him. Instead, there sat Barb, 75 years old with breast cancer. 

“Oh sweetie, are those for me?” Barb looks at the flowers in Bucky’s hand. 

“No!” He snaps, as closes the curtain that surrounds his chair. He hears some huffs and complaints from Barb, but frankly, he doesn’t give a damn. Bucky only has one thing on his mind: you. 

“Are you alright? You’re not here at Club Med” Bucky texts as quickly as his one hand would let him. Dropping his phone, Bucky stares at it all while the nurses prep him. And because of damn, HIPAA, none of the nurses can tell him where you’re at. Minutes turn into hours, and by the time Bucky’s infusion ends, you still haven’t responded to him or shown up at the clinic. 

“Hope you’re okay. Call or text me. I'm worried” Bucky sighs, realizing how much you made his chemo treatments more bearable. How your laugh could make him forget of the poison he had to take, or how the light in your eyes could make him forget, even just for a bit, how much his arm stump was hurting. You were a drug, more potent than any he’s had before, and Bucky was becoming addicted. He’s picking at the hamburger he got for dinner, not having much of an appetite when his phone goes off. Seeing it’s from you, he rushes to answer. 

“Y/N! I… Where were you? I missed you today. I had to sit by Barb and…” The sounds of your cries cut Bucky off. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, Buck. I… Got some bad news today.” 

“Where are you?” He asks. He knows you’re alone, and speaking from experience, you never want to be alone when you get bad news. He knows from experience.

“Buck…” you sigh, “It’s fine. Really.” 

“Please, Y/N, I know what it’s like to be alone after getting this kind of news. Please, let me be there for you.” Breaking further down into tears, you cry at Bucky’s actions, actions of love. 

“I’ll send you my address,” Bucky gathers the flowers and chocolates as he rushes to your apartment, breaking a few traffic laws to get there faster. When he gets there, the image of you, opening the door, eyes swollen from crying breaks his heart. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Bucky sweeps you into his arm, as he closes the door behind, “tell me what’s going on hun.” 

You both sit on the couch, the bag with the flowers and chocolate lay at your feet, as you stay in Bucky’s embrace. 

“I’m… I’m dying Buck!” You manage to say in-between odds. “Dr. Fair... gave me three months to live. There’s nothing else they can do.” You break down in his arms, that last straw finally breaking, as you tell your newfound best friend, the person you were supposed to beat cancer with. Bucky tries his best to remain strong, to be the rock, the foundation you need, but you’re not the only one that is losing a friend. You sit in each other's embrace, as you mourn. You cry for all the missed opportunities, laughs, and memories that won’t be made. 

“What am I going to do,” you whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. 

Kissing your head, Bucky pulls you in closer, “we, are going to make these three months, the best three months you’ve ever had.”

Bucky lives up to his promise, spending every hour he isn’t in the hospital with you. The time you spent together changed your relationship. Neither had to officially say the words to make your relationship official. It was just you, and Bucky. Holding each other close, as the tempest waged on, trying to beat you into submission. You go on walks in the park, picnics, and one night when you both had the energy, went skinny dipping. Your logic being, what are the cops going to do? Arrest two cancer patients, with one of them being terminal? You threw caution to the wind and simply lived. Lived, breathed, and loved. Things seemed to be perfect until reality hit.

Your body wasn’t keeping up. Your cancer was spreading faster than they predicted. The doctors couldn’t give you an explanation as to why the cancer was spreading so fast. It shouldn’t have been. Soon, home hospice came, to try to make you more comfortable. And like the good partner he was, Bucky spent every minute by your side. That’s why, when you felt the inevitable coming, you felt your body give in to the tiredness of fighting, you grab Bucky’s hand. 

“I love you, James Bucky Barnes,” you weakly say, giving him one last affirmation, as you went to sleep, for one last time. 

As Bucky wakes up from his nap, feeling your cold body, he tries to ruse you back awake. Once he realizes what has happened, the last bit of humanity inside of Bucky snapped. He lets out a blood-curdling scream, as tears stream down his face. He strikes your face, pleas escape his mouth. Pleas to you, to a God he has long stopped believing in. His body shakes, his tears wetting your hair, as he holds you for one last time. 

=====

“Oh James,” Dr. Breynord grabs herself a tissue before handing Bucky the box of tissues. “I truly am so sorry to hear that. I want you to know that I am here to help you get happy again, and to heal.”

Bucky sighs and turns away from the doctor as he wipes his eyes. “You’re just like the rest of them. You didn’t listen to me.” 

Breynord was surprised that this was Bucky’s complaint. The other doctors had warned her that Bucky could be sarcastic, standoff-ish, and even flat-out rude to them. Breynord thought she did a good job listening to his story, what did she miss.

“I… I don’t think I understand what you mean, James.”

Bucky lets out a heartless, empty laugh, “you want me to be happy again. I’m never going to be. Not only do I have to live with the guilt of surviving, when she died, in my arms, but I’ll also never find another soul like hers. We had a connection, you know. It felt like we met before. When I held her in my arm, and her arms would wrap around me, it felt like I had the whole world in my arms. I didn’t need anything else when I had Y/N.” 

“So tell me doc, what’s the point of carrying on?”

[vs-redemption]

Hi, its me! Im sorry for bothering you! How would Bakugou, Aizawa, and Iida react if some random kid, who had their eyes but different hair, who looks homeless and IS homeless, knockef on their door and said 'hey, do you know *insert womans name*? Youre my dad apparently' and it turns iut it was a woman they had a flimg with, who left them, and went on to abusr their kid? Like severely? Its just me projecting lol. Im so sorry have a great day!

A/N: I noticed that @madkaleidoscope got almost the same request while going through the my hero tags, so please check out their post HERE for another take on the same idea.

A Surprise Meeting (Bakugo, Iida, and Aizawa meet their abused child)

You can read the same scenario for Todoroki and Dabi HERE You can read the same scenario for Hawks, Fatgum, and Shigaraki Here

Warning:⚠️Mentions of child abuse and homelessness. Also, swearing for Bakugo!⚠️

Bakugo

“What the hell do you mean they were offended?” Bakugo growls at his manager through the phone propped up on his shoulder as he aggressively chops up vegetables for the stew he was making. “Instead of being grateful that I saved their asses, they decided to file a complaint against me huh?”

The underpaid person on the other end launches into an explanation about why a top ranked pro hero should avoid yelling out expletives while fighting villains in front of a crowd of civilians. Apparently it wasn’t an appropriate way to behave in front of impressionable children and elderly folks. Bakugo rolled his eyes as he continued cooking. He’d heard this spiel a hundred times before. He’d honestly worked hard over the years to improve the way he directly interacted with the innocent people he fought to protect every day, but he couldn’t help but get a little overzealous in the moment when taking down bad guys.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in annoyance when his doorbell suddenly rang. He wiped his hands off on a towel before going to tell off whoever it was that was interrupting his very limited free time. It was bad enough he was already getting an earful from his manger while he was trying to relax. He ripped open the door and felt a hint of surprise when he had to lower his angry red eyes to find the unexpected visitor. It was a little girl.

“What the hell?” Bakugo leaned out of the doorway a bit to look for an adult that might be accompanying the child but she seemed to be all alone. His manager paused their lecture to ask if he was all right. “Yeah, but I’m going to have to call you back,” Bakugo hangs up the phone and looks back at the little girl who was glaring up at him with familiar red eyes. Her long dark hair was dirty and matted. She had scrapes and bruises all over her arms and face.

“Do you need help or something?” Bakugo asks awkwardly as he tries to slip into his comforting hero voice. “Where are your parents?”

“Mommy left and didn’t come back,” the little girl scowls and crosses her arms. She then tells Bakugo her mother’s name, causing the man to freeze up in shock at the implication. “She said you were my daddy.” Bakugo just stands speechless for a few moments as his brain tries to catch up with what he’d just heard. He knew the girl’s mom, but he hadn’t seen her in about four years. They’d had a bit of a summer romance right at the beginning of his hero career before she’d suddenly disappeared, never to be heard from again.

Bakugo lets his eyes scan over the little girl once more. He couldn’t deny she had his eyes and his scowl. He felt irritated that his summer fling hadn’t even had the decency to tell him she’d gotten pregnant. He squats down to look more closely at the dirt and injuries all over the girl’s body.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, trying to keep the gruffness from his voice. Some emotion cracks through the little girl’s false bravado then and she looks down at her bare feet shyly.

“Mommy…” she whispers. Bakugo takes a deep breath to calm the rage that boiled up inside him and offers a hand to the little girl.

“Mommy left me too,” he confesses. “But she’s not going to hurt either of us ever again, okay?” The little girl looks up at her dad, a tentative hope blossoming in her eyes. Bakugo knew this was going to impact his life in a huge way, but at the moment he only cared about getting to know his daughter and making up for lost time. “Are you hungry?” The little girl nods her head eagerly and he leads her into his apartment. He would get her cleaned up and fed before getting started on all the legal stuff he’d undoubtedly have to endure before she could really be his daughter completely. His mind was already coming up with ways to fit parenting into his work schedule though, and he found himself looking forward to spending as much time with his little girl as possible.

Iida

Iida assumed he was going to have another normal morning as he sat at his desk, looking over his patrol route for the day. He’d taken over his family’s hero agency not too long ago, but he was already used to the daily routine. All the experiences he’d lived through during high school, not to mention growing up in a family of heroes, had prepared him for most scenarios he would encounter as a pro. He had no reason to suspect that anything out of the ordinary would happen, even as he heard the knock on his office door.

“Come in,” he calls out while standing up to start putting on his hero costume. The door blasts open and a young girl runs into the room.

“Daddy!” she shouts as she runs right up to him and throws her arms around his waist. Iida looks down at the girl in shock before glancing towards the door where one of his sidekicks stood looking as confused as he felt.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” the sidekick says a bit awkwardly. “One of the interns found her wandering outside. She was asking people to help her find you, her dad.”

Iida wanted to deny the claim immediately. He would definitely know if he had a child, especially one who looked to be around eight years old. The idea became a lot less preposterous as he looked back down at the girl. Her hair color was as white as snow, a complete contrast to his dark blue. The thing that gave him pause were the two legs sticking out from under the dirty skirt the girl was wearing. Her legs looked skinny, too skinny, aside from her calves which had tiny exhaust pipes sticking out of them. The girl looks up at him after a moment to meet his gaze. His breathe catches in his throat at her blue eyes and checkmark shaped eyebrows that were iconic to the Iida family.

“Uh, thank you,” Iida felt flustered as he looks back at his sidekick who was blatantly starting at him in shock. “I’ll handle this from here. Do you mind asking someone to take over my patrol?” The sidekick accepts the job and hurries off, leaving Iida alone with the girl. Part of him felt really embarrassed that this had happened in front of his coworkers. He couldn’t imagine what they must think of him now. He definitely didn’t seem like the type to be involved with something that could be perceived as scandalous.

“What is your mother’s name?” Iida asks, even though he was sure he already knew. The list of possibilities was very small. The little girl goes up on her tiptoes and Iida bends down to meet her so she can whisper in his ear. He sighs heavily at the name that falls from her lips. It was just further confirmation that this wasn’t some crazy misunderstanding. The information settles into his mind. He was a father.

“Please don’t make me go back to her though,” the girl’s eyes brim with tears as she searches Iida’s face for comfort. “She’s scary.” Iida understood how the girl felt. If given the option, he would choose never to see that woman again either. She had only dated him for a brief time, pretending to be in love with him in order to take advantage of his fame until she found someone higher up in the ranks to seduce. He had been so shocked and heart broken when she’d left him so suddenly, but now there was no way to hide from that mistake of his past.

“Why do you say she’s scary?” Iida asks while putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. She winces and flinches away from his touch. He narrows his eyes in concern and asks her to roll up her sleeves. His heart fills with sadness at the welts marring her frail arms. “I see,” he frowns. “I promise you won’t have to see her again if you don’t want to, but can you tell me where she lives?”

“I don’t know. We always have to sleep outside,” the girl explains warily, painting a rather sad image of her life.

“Well that just won’t do,” he pats her on the head. “I’m going to make sure you have a comfy, warm bed to sleep in from now on.” The girl’s face lights up happily and she hugs Iida even tighter. The shame he’d felt initially was gone now, replaced by a determination to provide his daughter with the best life possible.

Aizawa

Between all his hero work and being a full time teacher, Aizawa’s opportunities to simply sleep for a couple consecutive hours were few and far between. He took any chance he could to just shut his eyes and rest for a while. Tonight he’d hoped to get a decent amount of sleep in before having to wake up at the crack of dawn to attend a UA staff meeting. However, it seemed fate had other plans for him.

It was around one in the morning when a knock on his front door pulled him from the depths of his much needed slumber. He rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes as he rolled out of bed, not even having the energy to be annoyed. “Who is it?” He asks while putting on his slippers and shuffling over to the door. There was no answer, so he pressed his face up to the peep hole. He let out a groan when he saw a random kid standing outside. If this was some kind of prank, he wasn’t sure he had the strength of mind to deal with it at this hour. He already put up with a whole class of teenagers every day who drained him of every drop of patience he had.

“Can I help you?” Aizawa mumbles after opening the door. The young boy in front of him looked to be about thirteen years old. The ends of his dark burgundy hair were frayed and had been cut sloppily as if he’d done it himself. He had outgrown his clothes a while ago, and they appeared uncomfortably small on his skinny frame. The poor kid looked extremely dirty and smelled even worse.

“Do you know this woman?” the haggard boy holds out an old photograph of a person Aizawa recognized immediately. It had been a very long time, but he’d never forget the face of the first woman he’d ever been with. He’d been so young and naïve at the time, and he still felt bitter toward the friend who’d set him up with a woman with such an atrocious personality. Aizawa knew right then and there that he wasn’t going to be getting back to sleep anytime soon.

“This is my mother,” the boy states the obvious fact. “And apparently you’re my dad.” Aizawa had no reason not to believe him as he looked into the boy’s tired eyes that matched his own. It was clear that life had not been kind to the kid so far.

“Come on in,” Aizawa invites his son inside, deciding to wait to involve the proper authorities until morning. “You can take a hot shower, and I think I have some leftovers we can heat up.”

“A shower?” the boy looked overwhelmed, as if the promise of a shower was more than he’d ever dared to hope for. Aizawa was growing more concerned with each passing second.

“Where is your mother now?” He asks and the boy shrugs.

“I haven’t seen her in a couple weeks,” he states as if that were normal. “I think she met some new guy.” That was enough to put Aizawa’s teeth on edge.

“Where have you been staying then?” he asks.

“Wherever I can,” the boy replies, sounding embarrassed. “Park benches, bus stops, train stations…” Aizawa was horrified. What kind of person left their child to survive in those conditions? Why hadn’t she ever reached out to him for help?

“What are these?” Aizawa reaches out to snatch up the boys arm. Now that he was inside where the lighting was better, he could see strange scars and scabs covering his skin.

“Cigarette burns,” the boy pulls his arm away and averts his eyes. “Mom thought it would make people more willing to help when I had to beg for money.” Aizawa felt his eyes fill with tears at the words, and he doesn’t think twice before pulling his son into his arms. The boy returns the embrace, clinging to Aizawa as if he feared the man might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

“What’s going to happen now?” the boy asks fearfully after he calms down a bit.

“You’re more than welcome to stay with me,” Aizawa finds himself accepting the role of father rather quickly. He was already responsible for so many kids already, he didn’t see the harm in adding one more to the list. “If that’s something you’re comfortable with.”

“Yes, please!” The boy nods his head, looking ecstatic as he wiped away his tears. Aizawa nods his head and pats his son on the shoulder.

“Well then kid,” he says with a small smile. “Welcome home.”

------

Aizawa Tag List:  @clovertitan  @raine-needs-help @lucacangettathisass @lea2107-foxsin @tiaraowens

[twink-appreciation-posts]

Lashing Out - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter nine of “all bets are off”

the first rule of sleeping with a coworker is DONT FUCKING SLEEP WITH YOUR COWORKER

warnings: ANGST, plot-heavy set up for next chapter which will have zero plot, seriously this chapter is important to the plot but the next one is gonna be very nsfw and pretty much skippable if it’s too much for u guys but THIS CHAPTER IS IMPORTANT and also kinda short sorry 

“What the fuck were you talking to Rossi about?”

The words may have come out a bit more aggressively than you had intended, and maybe a bit too loud, but you were barely keeping it together. You were standing at Spencer’s desk, foot-tapping nervously, eyes darting around the room to your coworkers.

“What? Nothing,” Spencer replied quickly. “Just typical Rossi stuff.”

“What does the even mean?” You whisper-yelled. “Did he…. did he hear something?”

Spencer let out a sigh. “I… I don’t know. All he asked was where we had gone. I told him we were looking for old files. I’m sure it’s fine.”

Perfect. Yeah, you were sure that Rossi totally bought his story, right? No way. He knew. He had to have known. “You think he believes that? Spencer, how can you be so nonchalant about this? What we did was totally unprofessional. We could be fired.”

Spencer finally looked up at you and met your eyes. “We’re not going to be fired. Even if Rossi does know, he’s not going to tell anyone, and he wouldn’t get us fired over it. You’re right, what we did was risky, but it was a calculated risk and nothing bad is going to come of it. You trust me, don’t you?” He spoke methodically, without much emotion, like he would have explained any other random fact or statistic. You hated it. How could he be so calm? How could he not care?

“Nothing bad?” You quoted back at him, rolling your eyes. “Best case scenario is that Rossi knows and doesn’t say anything about it. That still means that someone on our team that I trust and look up to knows that I fucked someone in a backroom during work. I don’t wanna even think about the lack of respect he must have for me now. Do you really not care what he thinks?”

He considered your point for a moment. You weren’t even sure what you wanted him to say. An apology would mean nothing and empathy wouldn’t help your situation either. “Sexual relationships with coworkers are more common than you’d think, according to some studies up to 40 percent of people reported having some form of intimate relationship with a coworker in their life. Plus, it’s Rossi. I’m sure he’s done wilder things-“

“I don’t care what Rossi has done! I don’t care what 40 percent of people have done. I care what I’ve done. I care what we’ve done. Sleeping with you is one thing, but doing it repeatedly and doing it at work is crossing a line. This was a mistake. All of it was a mistake. I don’t know why the hell I let you drag me into this… whatever this is. I feel so fucking stupid.” Your emotions were getting the better of you, you knew that. It was as much your own fault as it was Spencer’s and crying about it wouldn’t help. But you did feel dumb. You felt dumb for a lot of reasons.

Spencer opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut short by Hotch calling a team meeting. Great. Just what you needed. You walked away from his desk, making a promise to yourself:

’I’m never having sex with Spencer Reid ever again.’

The rest of the day was typical other than the fact that you couldn’t find it in you to speak to or make eye contact with Spencer or Rossi.

It was definitely obvious to everyone else that something was up. That was the downside of working with profilers: even the smallest change of behavior was enough of a tip for them to notice.

As you packed up your stuff for the day Rossi approached you. You forced your best ‘nothing is wrong’ smile as he spoke.

“I’m having dinner party at my place this Saturday,” he explained. “Everyone’s invited. It’s my duty to teach you folks how to make a real carbonara.”

“Ah, yeah!” You nodded, still avoiding his gaze. “I’ll be there.”

“Great! See you then.”

The rest of the work week was miserable at best, but it’s not like you were particularly looking forward to the weekend either. Dinner at Rossi’s sounded peachy keen until you considered the fact that it meant awkwardly avoiding friends for an extra day. You would’ve felt bad not showing up, though, so Saturday evening you were sitting in Rossi’s kitchen watching him cook. Everyone but Spencer was there, but you were assured he’d be showing up. You secretly hoped he wouldn’t.

30 minutes into your cooking class there was a knock at the door.

“I got it!” JJ left the kitchen and returned with Spencer at her side.

“Sorry I’m late,” he smiled sheepishly.

“What was more important than this? You have a date or something?” Derek teased him. Spencer shook his head and turned red.

Wait. Had he…? No. No way. And even if he had, what did it matter to you?

“If Spencer had a lady friend I’d expect we’d never know, anyway.” Emily chuckled. “He’s not the bragging type unlike some of us here.” She elbowed Derek playfully. You frowned. Why did this upset you?

You dared to glance towards Spencer only to see that he had already been looking at you. Oh fuck. You turned your head back towards Rossi immediately, sighing. Spence took the only free seat, which was conveniently next to yours, and put down his bag.

“Well now that we’re all here,” Rossi popped open a bottle of wine, “let’s toast!”

You had a surprisingly fun night. You even talked to Spencer and Rossi a bit, forcing down any embarrassment. At the end of the night you had mostly resolved your issues internally, and you realized that you might’ve been a bit too cold to Spencer during the week. So you made the adult decision that you were going to apologize. As you walked out of Rossi’s house, sorry mansion, you pulled Spencer to the side. “Can we talk?” You asked quietly.

“Of course,”

So you went on a bit of a walk.

“I, um, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you this week. And before you say I wasn’t, it’s okay. I know I was. It was just as much my fault as it was yours that everything went down the way it did. It was a two-way street and I just didn’t wanna take responsibility for my own actions.” Your eyes were glued to the ground, twiddling your fingers nervously.

“It’s okay,” Spencer reassured you with a smile. “You were under a lot of stress and I understand why you’d lash out.”

You nodded, relieved that he wasn’t upset with you, though you knew he probably wouldn’t be. He wasn’t the type to get mad about stuff like this.

“Well, if that’s what you were worried about, don’t sweat it.” He told you when you stayed silent. He began to walk back towards his car.

“There was something else, actually…” You stuttered out. Spencer paused, turning on his heel and locking eyes with you.

You opened your mouth to speak but the words caught in your throat. You took a moment. Composed yourself. This was stupid. Why were you even asking? But now if you didn’t say anything it would be even weirder. Fuck. You really were a dumbass. “Did you uh, actually come late because you were on a date?” You mentally face-palmed. What a stupid fucking question.

Spencer chuckled. “No. I didn’t. I was writing a letter to my mom.” He explained, and for some reason, you felt relief wash over you. You laughed a bit. You had gotten all worked up over nothing. “Why do you ask?”

Your face fell. How were you supposed to answer that when you weren’t fully sure of the answer yourself? I mean, you could guess, sure, but in the end, you were lost. The question had just been plaguing you all night. That’s why you asked. “I don’t know. I guess I was just curious.” You shrugged. It wasn’t a lie. You had been curious.

“Fair enough. I’ll see you Monday.” Spencer began to walk away again and your brain began to buzz with too many thoughts to keep track of, but one was repeating at top volume, a desperate reminder of the rule you had set.

I’m never having sex with Spencer Reid ever again. I’m never having sex with Spencer Reid ever again. I’m never having sex with Spencer Reid ever again.

But despite the voice in your head screaming at you, besides your attempts to be reasonable about things, even though every inch of your rational brain was saying let him walk away, you spoke. Words flying out of your mouth before you could catch them. “Or maybe I was jealous.”

You thought maybe he didn’t hear you because he didn’t react at first. Maybe that was for the best. But your hopes were soon shattered when he turned around, looking at you with a mix of desire and confusion. Regret washed over you. God, you wished he hadn’t heard.

You stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, both plotting your next move, weighing your options. How much weight did your words carry? How would he take them?

You took a step towards him, and he did the same, and you were close enough to lean forward and put your lips on his and fuck did you want to but you shouldn’t and you knew that it would only make things worse in the end but at the moment you didn’t care and now it was too late because his lips were on yours before you could find the strength to walk away.

You didn’t know who leaned in. You didn’t care. It had been less than a week since your last encounter with him but you were starved and so was he. Whatever fucked up toxic thing that kept you two coming back to each other was too strong to fight and god the feeling of being with him like this was intoxicating. You pulled back eventually, needing to breathe, and you hated it. You wanted more.

“Where are you headed after this?” You asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know. Where do you want me to go?” He replied, eyes searching yours.

You gulped, swallowing down your self-respect and pride. Maybe Spencer had always been right. You needed him. You needed whatever this mess was. “I’ll see you at my place, then?”

“I’ll see you at your place.”

You parted ways with Spencer and walked to your car in silence, your mantra still ringing in your ears.

’I’m never having sex with Spencer Reid ever again.’

taglist <3

@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae @brokenanxiety @andiebeaword @spencerwaltergubler @la-vie-en-amour1 @rainsong01 @taekwinkle @dreamer7black @guessthatswhyiliveinhell @creepingfromthecorners @joyousreid @slutforthegubes @cluelessnitwhit @idfkijustneedafuckinguser @downondilaudid @screeching-student-unknown @gretaamyk @thegingerfairchild

[tyk-tyk-tyk]

(its iwontknock, i wish tumblr would let us send asks from second blogs) on my post you said your first d&d character was the lodger and i am SO curious about that!! can i ask more about that, like what his class was? id love to hear about your portrayal!

Well, I hope my fellow players don’t pay attention to this blog lol. If you are GO AWAY YOU NERDS Tw for child death and unethical experimentation juuuust in case, I know Knock-Knock has a lot of that regardless but if D&D folks see this too I want there to be a heads up

Looong post under the cut, adding tags in a sec

I’m actually kinda thrilled that you asked, we haven’t started the reboot yet, but hopefully we will soon! When I first started playing him, I was hella inexperienced and a little shy, so I didn’t quite get to fully do what I wanted with him & had a HORRIBLE backstory, but I’ll give a few details anyways. Then I’ll explain what I’m gonna do with his reboot haha

To also save some confusion, I named The Lodger “Bormot” as that’s what some of his voice files are called, it’s just a Russian name that means “Mumble” :)

I made him a half elf druid! It was a lot to tackle at first, but I really felt like it fit his character. Whereas druids are usually blessed by the Earth and such yadda yadda, I made it so that the Earth borderline cursed him by being in the wrong spot at the wrong time. He comes from this long line of elf intellectuals, and still does his worldology stuff out in the middle of nowhere. After he gets cursed though, his home starts dying and he pulls a “Well, this isn’t good!” and runs away and ends up meeting the party. Did I mention that he’s a half elf that doesn’t believe in magic bc of his sheltered life? More on that later. Some fun stuff that ended up happening is he literally met half plant people (my DM had no idea LOL) and Bormot proceeded to have a panic attack and casted Call Lightning by accident. We were like level 15 btw I came in LATE He also managed to talk down a dragon despite his low charisma score (I think I actually rolled well and my DM took pity on me, a new player)

The ‘rebooted’ version of him is still largely the same, a half elf druid, just with more of a fleshed out story. His Grandfather is kind of this disgraced elf who hates magic since he thinks his peers rely on it too much, they don’t use their braiiiiins. So he then raises Bormot’s (half elf) dad to reject magic, and continue their worldology science that’s Definitely A Real Science I Swear. Bormot’s dad gets married ofc and decides to live in the middle of nowhere where he can conduct his science in peace with his family. The wife gives birth to a beautiful baby girl shortly after! While on a hunting trip, Bormot’s dad shoots at something he thinks is a deer, but ends up being an old & weak God. Oops. So he does what any responsible scientist does and vivisects the thing before it dies, taking lots of samples of its blood. This kinda makes him lose his mind as now there’s real, physical evidence in front of him that higher powers and magic might be a pretty valid thing. So of course he does what any highly responsible father does and puts some zesty ichor (God Blood) into his child just to see what happens! She dies, unfortunately, as the powers that be of a god isn’t something a really tiny elf girl’s body can handle. The mother enters grief and becomes more overprotective. having no idea that her husband accidentally killed their child. She gives birth to Bormot a long while later. Daddy-o doesn’t want the wife to know about his experimentation since she’ll whine about MoRaLs and refuse to let him inject more blood into their son, so he keeps it a secret for as long as he can. When Bormot is older, he tries again, and it works! ... Sort of. Now the poor kid is having constant nightmares and hallucinations, and is having trouble both sleeping and meditating. He’s freaked out about the potential magic that he has, since his dad said that magic isn’t real, and his dad is definitely always right and doesn’t lie! He grows up like this his whole life. Bormot’s mom does actually end up finding out about it and gets into an argument with the dad, so the dad does what any responsible husband would do and kills her after it escalates. At least he feels guilty for this one. Her body is buried next to the sister’s near some pine trees so the roots will hopefully grow over them and conceal the bodies more. Bormot has no idea he even had a sister, and his dad lies and says that his mom left. When Bormot’s old enough to live on his own, his dad peaces out to conduct more research and tries to prolong his own death, even if he has a lot of years left. Bormot starts the game around when he leaves his house, wondering where his dad ran off to & wants to learn what the hell is up with his hallucinations and Not Real Magic.

I left out details since this was already getting so LONG, sorry mobile users Anyway the TLDR is Bormot’s dad makes a lot of bad decisions that leads to Bormot being a druid hermit that doesn’t believe in magic, and his journey with his friends is all about realizing that he’s more than his worldology ‘legacy’ and that magic is indeed real and it isn’t bad to embrace it. But we’ll see if he makes it to the end or dies to a goblin or something

Thanks for reading my self indulgent D&D rambles, I can give updates if anyone is ever curious about it later

[shiny-armin]

“Legend has it that a deep, pure affection filled this ancient garden, creating the Luhua Pool as it is known today.”

The two Gods of Geo and Dust took their daily nature stroll around their realms, until arriving at a waterscape with turquoise and yellow shades.

The goddess with sand coloured hair sure had wandered off this time. They used to take walks across the plains they ruled over, never venturing beyond what was usual to him. If offered a map, it would have taken a while for the Lord of Geo to find his whereabouts. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been that difficult, since they were approaching a vast and shimmering lake, which could be easily spotted on a map after all.

Anyhow, it was the first time he laid eyes on that waterscape and was enthralled by it right away. So enthralled, he hadn’t noticed his horns getting entangled in a tree. He yanked his head free, earning a shower of leaves. Guizhong turned around at the creaking sound, and chortled when she discovered her friend grimacing as he shook off the foliage.

“Not even Moon Carver has as much trouble as you do where trees are concerned,” she teased with a grin, resuming her walk. The taller Archon only sighed at her words, since it happened more frequently than he would like to admit. It was true that the stag Adeptus, despite his large antlers, didn’t struggle while walking through the mountain forests, unlike him. In his defense, the Geo Archon had the greatest stature out of all of the Adepti, but he could shrink to a human-like size if desired. Amidst nature, he didn’t bother to adopt a less threatening appearance, and he took pride in his golden horns, too.

They made their way down through the rocky hillside. Although the land was deserted and swallowed up in the undergrowth below ginkgo trees, there was a clear trail among the wildness. A trail made by something, or someone, who certainly frequented the place.

“It is plain to see you’re acquainted with this area,” the dragon Adeptus pointed out, his eyes observing how the fabric of her coral coloured hanfu brushed over the vegetation as she walked.

“Oh? Yes. In fact, under this lake lies the entrance to a secret sanctum of mine. Not so secret anymore, for you already know,” she gave a sly chuckle, while pointing at a ring of stone where pillars gathered around in the middle of the lake. “My research hideout of preference, as I like to call it.”  

The man’s eyebrows shot up in intrigue, wondering if that was where she ran off to whenever she was out of sight. Sometimes, Morax didn’t set foot in their residence for days, but that didn’t startle the Goddess of Dust in the slightest. Eventually, he would show up with a blank but bloodied face, framed by branches, foliage and other gifts of nature dangling from his contorted horns. Often, he would also bring some weapon snatched from the dying enemy’s hands, as a present for his dear goddess. She would describe him as a lead wolf returning to his pack after hunting the meal of the day. “Is this device of your liking, Guizhong? ” he would ask. With concern written all over her face, she’d chide, “What on Earth have you done this very time? ” and after caring for his wounds, she would passionately unravel the war artifact and use it as inspiration for future inventions of her own.

Other days, it was all the way around. Guizhong disappeared, not before leaving a reassuring note on a table, since Morax would be the one to silently panic due to his overprotective nature.

They left the lush greenery behind to walk on white sand, their shoes sinking in the shore. “I see, this is where you are always scheming and plotting behind my back,” he said, not a sign of resentment in his voice.

“My dear Morax,” she laughed. “I have the urge to always keep my mind full. Can you blame me?” There was no answer from him, he just kept walking beside her like an overly attached guardian. She averted her amber eyes and fixed them on the crystal clear water. “Actually, I had some plans for this place.”

“Plans?” the man inquired, looking at her with interest. She spun and glanced at a clear spot among the wild grass, and with a swift movement of her hand, lines were traced at her will across the soft dust. A scale-like pattern appeared on the ground.

She sighed in resignation. “I wish to shape the lake this way, however…” she bit her lower lip. “Stirring up dust and sand is never sufficient, it seems.”

The God of Geo set his piercing eyes on the lake which spread before them and crossed his arms, eyebrows knitting together in thought. The ground under their feet began to tremble ever so slightly, then a wall of stone emerged from the shallow waters, creating a miniature dam.

From the corner of his golden eye, he saw his friend’s face light up like a firework. “Oh my! That’s splendid, I cannot believe I had not thought of you for this task earlier,” she exclaimed, hands clasped together while admiring the work she had yearned to accomplish on her own. Alas, she was not a powerful goddess, but she made for it in brilliance. That lack of strength, plus her sympathetic nature, allowed Guizhong to understand and feel closer to human beings.

The rigid Lord of Stone, on the other hand, struggled to find even a single trait that could put him and mere mortals on the same level. It was not as if he despised them, on the contrary. He just never seemed to figure out their motives and ambitions. Hence, he admired how his long-time friend could blend in the common folk, leaving her godhood behind to seem as one of them.

“All you had to do was ask,” he said in a calm but firm voice, arms crossed while drumming a finger on his sleeve.

“Hmm… Do you think you could make some more for me, oh, Great God of Stone?” she asked with a playful smile, some dimples making an appearance on her face.

The man answered only with a low hum of acquiescence. The Lord of Geo would not take orders from anyone other than Guizhong, although it had been a long way since he had come around to listen to her demands. He had forcibly found out that good things came to him – to them – whenever he acted as she wished. She was a far-sighted and wise woman, after all.

He then spread his arms, the long sleeves of his hanfu and untied hair fluttering in the late spring breeze. The ground rumbled once again, and all kinds of lifeforms – terrestrial, aquatic, or flying – fled from their nearby shelters. The crystalline waters sloshed about, new rock walls appearing on the surface next to the already created pool.

“Oh… Try to move that one… a little to the left,” she said, a crooked finger on her chin. He then proceeded to do as she had said. Several scale-shaped pools piled up in different levels, adding to the tranquil beauty of the lake. “Good, good.” A smile of satisfaction appeared on her rosy lips.

When it came to her and their people, but especially her , the savagery and ruthlessness that characterized the renowned God of War disappeared, becoming relatively meek and indulgent instead. And yet, he would not let it completely show in front of their worshippers, coming off as distant and indifferent about many matters, which Guizhong took over. All in all, both gods were equally loved since each one took care of the village in their own way. As if it were their child, Morax provided the Guili Assembly with unwavering protection and stability, while Guizhong nurtured it with wisdom, values, and affection. Both of them took great pride in seeing how their creation blossomed into a lively city.

“What is its purpose?” His draconic eyes searched for hers, sparking with curiosity.

She arched a confused eyebrow. “Purpose?”

“The pools.”

Upon hearing his answer, she couldn’t help but let out a laugh. His obliviousness was entertaining at times. She loved seeing his puzzled expression whenever she talked about the most mundane things. “Purpose! They don’t have one. Well, except for visual aesthetic, of course,” she explained, linking their arms together and admiring the landscape.

“What you mean is… They are supposed to be beautiful, and naught else?” he asked once again, the lower tips of his dark hanfu soaking on the shore.

“Is being merely beautiful not enough for you, Morax?”

“I suppose not. I think everything should have a deeper meaning.”

She chuckled. “Well then. You appreciate flowers almost as much as I do. How can you explain them?”

His forehead furrowed in confusion, as if she had given him a riddle to solve. “Flowers,” he began with his deep voice. “Are not there just for their beauty. They feed animals and humans, and some of them have a commercial interest, such as for creating perfume. Moreover, you like to play with them and put them in my hair. They have a further purpose.”

She shook her head, fair locks blowing in the breeze. His opinions were as immovable as the boulders he created, and could only be eroded with continuous discussion. “Morax, your stubbornness is as limitless as Barbatos’ wine supply. Let’s just accept these pools are beautiful and nothing more,” she said, a warm smile tugging at the corners of her lips. As much as she enjoyed their lengthy debates about the world, she knew when it was pointless to push further. Someday, he would appreciate things just the way they were, without looking for any logical explanation. Someday. “Now, what shall be your reward for this marvellous job? Let’s see…” She shifted her weight from one leg to another, still grabbing his arm and a thoughtful expression on her face.

“You are not to reward me, Guizhong. It is my greatest joy to do you a favor. We are committed to helping one another in our weaknesses,” Morax declared, mentally revising the first contract to ever be made on that land.

“Do you need me to file down your horns?” she suggested, purposely ignoring what he had said. The man refused her offer with a shake of his head.

“I can take care of it on my own,” he answered with a half-smile. She hummed pensively.

“Oh, I know. You will pay me a visit to the Realm of Clouds. I will show you my weapon collection,” the Lady of Dust gushed excitedly, her amber eyes shimmering with anticipation while tugging at his arm. Morax shifted a slightly surprised gaze to his friend as they started to walk back.

“Am I allowed to enter?” he asked, a sheepish yet small smile touching his lips. He felt happy he could get to see the place where she created all these sophisticated gadgets, where her beautiful mind was unleashed.

She pondered with a long hum, teasing him with all that hesitation. “Hm… Just this time, I suppose. We do not want you swishing your tail around my exhibition tables,” she joked with a coy grin, but he couldn’t see it as she was walking in front. The God of War peeked at his rear, suddenly self-conscious.

“I… I have got no tail at this time. I will not hurt anything, upon my word,” he promised a bit crestfallen by her accusations.  

Guizhong pivoted on her heels and stretched her hands to cup his face, catching him off guard. She had an expression of fondness on her face. “I know you will not. You can come whenever you please. You can even help me, too.”

He cherished her so, so much. But he would not say it. Sadly, he didn’t know how much he would regret all these unsaid words centuries later. He took her hand in his, her clothing then matching the color of the evening sky. They skirted the shore until Guizhong’s secret palace, their most recent joint creation lying peacefully behind their backs. The Luhua Pool.

A/N: not me creating even more Liyue lore!! Btw, that quote in the summary is from the game itself, the Luhua Pool viewpoint description /cries/ I hope you enjoyed it.

[ericsonclan]

Strong and Swift

Summary: Brody and Mitch transfer to Ericson High and get through their first day together before going out and completing their first mission in New York as spider heroes.

Word Count: 3869

Read on AO3:

“All I’m saying is that brunch is a very valid and delicious way to hang out with friends,” Louis strolled through the hallway, his backpack dangling off one of his shoulders.

“Louis, drop it,” Violet mumbled as her hands struggled to hold all the books that she needed for today's classes.

“Well, Clem, I guess you’re the swing vote. Is friendship brunch a thing? Yay or nay?”

Clementine looked over at her friends then focused back on the hallway before her. “Hmmm, I guess we’ll just have to go to brunch and find out.”

“Yes!” Louis pumped his fist while Violet let out a tired groan. The three of them continued to discuss the matter as they made their way into their homeroom class where Javi was leaning back in his chair tossing a baseball in the air.

“Oh hey, you three are early,” He gave a happy smile at the sight of his students.

“No,” Violet sat down in her chair with a groan. “Your clock is wrong.”

Javi looked up in shock then glanced between his phone and the clock. His eyes darted back and forth to check it. “Oh no,” He pushed his chair up to the clock and started to reset it while the classroom became full with the different students.

“Morning, Mr. Garcia,” Sophie’s cheerful tone drew the teacher's attention.

“Hey, Sophie.”

“Whatcha up to?” Renata popped out from behind Minnie with a curious smile.

“Changing the clock. Time was totally wrong and would've been really awkward when the new transfer students showed up.”

Minnie’s eyes widened at that statement. “More transfer students?”

Javi gave a light hearted chuckle. “Yeah, who would’ve thought. Must be that they think Ericson High is quite the place.” He got off the chair and spun it around, taking a seat in it. “You three should get in your seats.”

“Right!” Renata jogged over and slid into her chair; the twins soon followed suit. Javi gave the students a few more minutes to file in and get settled before he rose up.

“Good morning class, as a few of you might already know we are getting in a few new transfer students today.”

Clementine glanced up from her spot. That’s odd. Why are there so many transfer students showing up? The timing seems off.

Suddenly a knock on the door drew all the students’ attention.

“Oh, I bet that’s them now,” Javi lightly jogged to the door and swung it open with a bright smile. “Come on in, you two,” He stepped back, giving the two students a chance to walk and stand in front of the class. On the left was a tall guy with short chestnut hair and green eyes. He seemed to radiate a sort of grumpy energy from. His eyes glanced around the room, challenging anyone to speak up and say something. On his right was a girl who was shorter than him with beautiful pale blue eyes. Her auburn hair was slicked back and her hands were by her sides balled up, most likely due to nerves based on the expression on her face. She seemed nervous but something about her was genuine and kind.

“Well, why don’t you introduce yourselves to the class,” Javi leaned back in his chair with a warm smile.

“Name’s Mitch,” the guy spoke, looking around at the room for a few seconds before focusing his eyes elsewhere. “From Atlanta. Moved suddenly and ended up here.”

“Thanks, Mitch,” Javi said with a smile then looked over at the girl. “It’s your turn.”

The girl looked over at the teacher before taking a deep breath and uncurling her fists. “Hi there, I’m Brody. I’m also from Atlanta. My folks moved because of a new job so I look forward to getting to know all of you,” Brody’s eyes fell back down and for a split second Clementine could’ve sworn she saw Mitch reach out his hand and give Brody's a small, comforting squeeze.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you two. Now as for seating, you can take the seats behind Louis and Violet,” Javi motioned over to the two empty spots behind them. Louis gave a friendly wave while Violet looked up for a second, a ghost of smile on her face before she looked away again. Brody took her spot behind Louis and Mitch sat behind Violet.

Louis immediately turned around in his chair. “Hi, I’m Louis,”

Brody looked surprised by it. “Hi.”

“Louis, if you could turn around again, we can get started on taking attendance.” Javi’s voice caused Louis’ face to change to a guilty look before turning around with a sheepish smile. The rest of the day seemed to go fairly smoothly. Nothing besides the new students seemed unusual for a normal day at Ericson High and soon lunch had rolled around.

Brody sat down at the empty table with a tired sigh. Mitch sat beside her, giving a small, sympathetic smile. Slowly his arm reached around her shoulders.“First days always suck,”

Brody nodded in agreement. “Yeah they do, but everyone seems nice. I just wonder why we got assigned-” She immediately stopped when she noticed Louis waving excitedly over at them and making his way over to their table with Clementine and Violet.

“Hey, mind if we join you?” Louis sat down, placing his lunch tray that was stacked high with pudding and pizza. Violet and Clementine sat down on opposite sides of him.

“Yeah, sure,” Brody gave a kind smile that seemed to cause Mitch’s tension to decrease.

“So, you said you two were from Atlanta?” Clementine leaned forward and opened her apple juice box, taking a long sip from it.

“That’s right,” Mitch responded and took a fry from his plate. “We went to the same school, Prescott High.

“It was a really nice school.” Brody added with a fond smile.

“But you had to move?” Violet’s voice caused them to look over to her. She had a huge pile of nuggets on her plate. Way more than seemed humanly possible to consume in one sitting.

“Yeah,” Mitch grumbled. “Some shit came up and my family had to move.”

“Well, enough with that,” Louis dramatically opened his first container of pudding, thrusting a spoon into it. “Tell me, how did you crazy kids get together?”

Clementine shook her head good-naturedly while Violet gave an annoyed sigh. “Really, Louis?”

“What? It’s a valid question. They could ask if any of us are dating anyone. We’re not, by the way.” Louis flashed his classic charismatic smile.

“Oh, well...” Brody awkwardly twirled her fork around her plate.

“I asked her out to the dance on a dare,” Mitch had a smug expression on his face that instantly dissipated when he saw the look on Louis’ face. “What?”

Brody reached up her hand and grabbed Mitch’s. “It was a weird starting point, but we quickly got along and we’ve been together ever since.”

“How long have you been together?” Clementine took a bite of her burger.

“Three, maybe four years?” Brody looked over at Mitch for confirmation.

Mitch shrugged. “That sounds about right to me.”

“Wait - so you got together when you were what? Thirteen or fourteen?” Louis looked shocked as the spoon slipped out of his slightly opened mouth. Before either Brody or Mitch could answer that a Hispanic girl with dark brown hair jumped onto one of the chairs with a  chaotic smile.

“Hey there, just want to stop by and meet the two new hot people in our homeroom,” She offered her hand. “I’m Renata. Rhymes with frittata if that helps,”

Brody awkwardly took it. “Brody, but ummm, what was that about hot people?”

“Well obviously I was talking about you two.” Renata playfully kicked her legs.

“Where’s Sophie and Minnie?” Violet’s words were muffled by the chicken nuggets she was currently inhaling.

“Yeah, aren’t they always with you?” Clementine looked up from her food.

“Usually yes, but right now they’re trying to convince Omar to try the latest masterpiece Sophie has concocted.” Renata tossed forward a pudding cup that spun around the center of the table.

“Pudding?” Mitch looked confused. “That’s already been fucking claimed.”

Renata shook her head and held up a finger. “Hot pudding.” Her eyes wandered over to another table, making the others do the same.

There they saw a girl with long red hair arguing animatedly with a shorter guy with an afro who had his arms crossed. A girl with short red hair who looked identical to the other one was laughing lightly with a happy smile on her face. Only every now and again did she speak up. The other girl lifted up the pudding cup to display it before dropping it and shaking her hands wildly. Renata laughed at the sight. “Sophie really is trying her best,” She turned back to face the others. “So, anyone game to try it? I promise it’s worth it.”

“Nope,” Violet stated, simply finishing off the last of her chicken nuggets. Brody and Mitch looked shocked by the sight.

“I will take the risk!’ Louis dramatically rose from his spot and with one fluid movement gulped down the hot pudding. His face winced from the heat, but soon melted into a joyful, content look. “Holy shit! This is no joke!” “Right? Right?” Renata bounced excitedly in her seat, smiling at the people at the table.

Louis looked around the cafeteria with a wide grin which disappeared after a few seconds. “Damn it, I thought Gabe and Mari would be in the cafeteria but they must be in the newspaper room with Nurgul. Gabe would lose his mind over this.” Louis said, looking round.

“Well, have no fear,” Renata reached forward and snagged the empty pudding cup. “We have the mastermind behind it all,” She pointed back at Sophie who had spilled the pudding all over her pants and was now jumping and dancing around as Minnie burst out laughing. Minnie held out a napkin while her hand shook with laughter.

“Say no more, I’m sold. It was nice talking to you two, definitely wanna hear more, but now I’m on the quest for more hot pudding,” Louis gave a playful smile and wave before standing up.

“See ya,” Renata winked, giving a casual salute as she strolled over to the twins.

Brody and Mitch shared a look before laughing.

The rest of the day went smoothly from that point on. All the teachers seemed nice and understanding and the classmates helped whenever either Mitch or Brody didn’t understand something.

“All in all, not a shitty day,” Mitch smiled over at his girlfriend.

“Nope. I think I’m really going to like this school.” Brody’s hand swayed along with Mitch’s, their intertwined fingers locked firmly together as they exited the building.

“Mari, wait up!” Gabe rushed forward, his camera bag hitting his hip while he tried to catch up with his sister. Mariana looked back at her brother with a playful smile.

“Come on, slowpoke! If we keep going at this pace, we'll never reach the pizza place.” Mariana stopped when she saw the red hand appear on the display, signalling that it wasn’t safe to cross. Gabe leaned over and caught his breath for a moment. “Are you sure this pizza place is any good? Why can’t we go to the usual one on Broadway?”

“Because I heard that this one really does have the best pizza in New York. Sure it’s only been open for a few weeks, but Uncle Javi swears that it's the best he’s ever had.” Mari’s smile faded when she saw the unsure expression on her sibling’s face. “Tell you what: if Reggie’s Pies and Fries isn’t the best pizza ever, I’ll buy you a four pack of pudding.”

Gabe’s eyes danced with excitement at the suggestion. “Make it six and you’ve got a deal.”

Mariana looked at him with a  competitive smile. “You drive a hard bargain. Deal!” She shook his hand firmly. “You’re buying the pizza today though.” She turned to start crossing the street while Gabe looked dumbstruck for a second. Running beside her, he spoke up again. “Fine, but you’re paying next time.”

“Of course,” Mariana looked down at the black camera bag that was flailing around as Gabe walked. “Do you really need your camera today? It’s not like we’re gonna stumble across some spider people or anything.”

Gabe smiled proudly while holding his camera bag. “You never know. I have a good feeling about today. Especially after that newspaper meeting with Nuri.”

Mariana opened her mouth to comment on that statement when her phone started to buzz against her back pocket. Gabe’s phone was vibrating as well with the same loud sound. It was one that they recognized immediately. Pulling out their phones, the siblings looked at the Amber Alert that stated to look for a black Sedan with the license plate 7TYP290.

Gabe and Mariana looked at each other with a sad expression. They hated whenever these popped up, but that wouldn’t stop their ever constant vigilance to keep an eye out for the license plate just in case. That was when they heard a loud screeching noise followed by a crash coming from about a block away. They looked up to  see a pillar of smoke emitting from a white car that had collided with a blue minivan and black car. People started to gather around it, staring in horror and awe at the crash site before them. Gabe and Mariana ran over without hesitation.

“We should help!” Gabe sprinted forward towards the scene of the accident.

“We should call 911,” Mariana was trying to unlock her phone when Gabe let out an excited gasp. Mariana’s eyes shot up to see what had gotten her brother’s attention. Bumping into her brother with a soft thud, Mariana caught a glimpse of what it had been. There standing on the street sign was a female silhouette. Her eyes were sheltered by a pitch black mask that covered her face all the way down to the bridge of her nose. A hood covered her head, the hem of which was silver. Her body was covered in a skin tight black bodysuit that had silver detailed webs on the torso. The silver on the tips and edges of her black gloves shone in the sunlight.

“Holy shit. Is that-”

“Mimic!” Mariana practically squealed with excitement, finishing her brother’s sentence.

“We’re here to help,” Mimic spoke with a gentle voice when another spider person landed beside her. They were dressed in a  black leather biker jacket, dark denim pants and red shoes. A red spider stood prominently on the back of the jacket before he rose up. His black spider mask looked commanding with its red web detailing around it.

“Step back. We don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

The crowd listened slowly, stepping back from the scene.

“That’s Goliath. I can’t believe it!” Gabe stared in awe.

“I thought they were based in Atlanta.” Mariana looked over at Gabe with a confused expression then turned her attention back to the two spider people.

“They should be.” Gabe watched as Mimic landed softly on her feet and stood absolutely still, pointing towards the left back car door of the minivan.

“Goliath, two kids.”

“On it,” Goliath moved forward and wrapped his fingers around the edges of the door. Crumpling the metal like paper, he lifted off the door.

“That was his super strength. It’s even crazier in person,” Gabe mumbled, too caught up in the sight before him to think to take photos.

Mimic moved beside her partner. Kneeling down, she looked at the two kids.

“Hey there, we’re gonna help you out, okay? Does anything hurt?” Mimic asked in a soft, comforting voice.

N-no,” The older sister was holding onto her younger brother who was crying in her arms. “But our dad...”

Mimic looked back at Goliath. “Check the front door, but be careful.”

“Of course,” Goliath moved forward and ripped open the door, finding the father whose leg was bloody and broken. “Mimic.”

Mimic stood up with the two kids, one in each of her arms. “I’m going to leave you with my friend. He may look mean, but he’s super nice.” Mimic walked over to Goliath and gently handed him the kids.

“Hey there,” Goliath had a surprisingly gentle tone to his voice. “We’re going to go over here for a few minutes.” He placed the kids and knelt before them. “Gotta help the others, okay?”

The older sister studied his face for a minute, reluctantly nodding. “Just help our dad.”

“I will,” Goliath looked over at the younger brother. “Be sure to watch out for your older sister okay, buddy?”

The little boy nodded, his eyes shining with determination.

Mimic had carefully extracted some of her webbing. Her fingers danced while the webbing carefully wrapped around the father’s leg. Gabe and Mariana watched in amazement as the webbing caused the bleeding to stop.

Goliath jumped over and with care carried over the father to his children who showered him with love and care. “That car is clear. Check out that one next, Mimic,” Goliath pointed to the white car that was smoking profusely. Mimic got back into her meditative stance, a shiver running down her spine when she sensed the presence within the vehicle. “Front right hand side.”

Goliath moved immediately, saving a middle aged lady and carrying her over to where the other survivors were.

“One left,” Mimic whispered to herself as she strolled to the last car.

Mariana looked at the black car with a look of concentration. That was a black sedan, right? Her eyes widened in horror. The license plate! What is it? Her heart stopped when she saw it: 7TYP290.

“Gabe,” Mari nudged her brother’s gut and gestured over to the license plate. Gabe looked at it, the realization hitting him only a second later.

“Mimic! Careful!” Mariana called out, causing the spider person to pause right by the front door. Suddenly a man lunged out of the door, stumbling around and swinging a sharp switchblade. Mimic’s body reacted to it immediately, moving in the unnatural way as if she had no bones in her body. The attacker froze when he stared at the spot she once was.

“That was Mimic’s signature evasion move.” Gabe let out a sigh of relief that the hero had made it out. Mariana felt her shoulders relax for a second before tightening again when she saw the fight wasn’t over.

Goliath ran over, trying to close the distance in time as he watched the switchblade try to land again on Mimic. Goliath shot out his barbed webbing, wrapping around the assulant ‘s wrist and stinging him sharply. Letting out a pained gasp, the man released his weapon.

Mimic appeared suddenly in front of him and kicked him in the gut then proceeded to wrap him in an immense amount of webs that stuck with squelching sounds onto the street sign. Mimic froze when she felt another presence nearby.

“Goliath, the trunk.”

Goliath tore off the trunk cover, revealing a young girl tied and gagged with a tear-stained face. “I’m going to take off the gag, ma’am.” Goliath carefully took off the binds and Mimic helped the girl over to where the others were. The sound of an ambulance and police sirens wailed out, signaling that they were nearby. Mimic looked around for a minute before landing her sights on Mariana.

“Make sure that man gets his leg checked out.”

Mariana could barely believe that a spider person had spoken to her. She couldn’t form any words and simply nodded.

Mimic gave a relieved smile. “Thanks.” With that Mimic and Goliath shot out some webbing and swung off into the distance.

“I can’t believe it….” Gabe looked at the sky where the two spider people had flown past.

“We met spider people!” Mariana exclaimed. The siblings excitedly high fived when Gabe stopped mid-high five, causing Mari’s hand to hit his face.

“It’s weird though,” Gabe looked at the webbed assailant. “There sure are a lot of spider people showing up in New York.”

“That’s true.” Mari paused, intrigued by the information.

“Oh, crap!” Gabe yelled as he clutched his camera bag. “I forgot to take pictures!”

Mariana let out a sad sigh and placed her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Oh well.”

Gabe looked at where he saw the heroes swing off too. They can’t be that far away . “I’ll be back.”

“What?” Mariana looked confused as she watched her brother run away. “Gabe!”

“I’ll be right back!” Gabe cupped his hands over his mouth to make sure his sister heard him before turning back and focusing on the task at hand. He wanted that picture.

Brody landed easily on her feet as Mitch soon joined her. Taking off her black mask, she felt her hood slip down as she let out a relieved sigh, leaning against the alleyway. “That was close.”

“Yeah, but we kicked ass. Especially you, Brody! You were so fucking hot,” Mitch pulled up his mask, the crinkles on his leather biker jacket increasing with the movement. In a single movement, he cupped the sides of Brody’s face and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Brody looked surprised for a moment before leaning into the kiss, her hand traveling up to grasp the back of Mitch’s head.

That was when it happened. The sound of a camera went off, causing Brody to throw on her mask and Mitch to pull down his.

In seconds Brody shot out a web, snatching the camera from a Cuban boy with an orange beanie who looked shocked by her action. Brody opened the camera and took out the film, tossing the camera back to its owner. “Sorry,” she apologized, shooting up a web and launching into the air.

Mitch gave a sassy smile that was lost under the mask. “We don’t do pictures.”

After the pair was far enough away, they landed on top of one of the buildings. Both of them took the risk and took off their masks once more. Mitch gave a small smile towards Brody. His hand gently intertwined with hers.

“Don’t worry, we got the film.”

“Yeah, I know. Just glad our first mission went well.” She had a warm smile on her face when her eyes grew large. Tilting back her head, she let out a long, exacerbated groan.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I forgot I still have my English assignment to complete,” Brody mumbled, letting her face fall forward in defeat.

“Fuck! I do too.” Mitch’s frown deepened, softening only when he glanced over at her. “Hey, wanna drop by my place and we can finish it together?”

Brody looked over at him with an appreciative smile. “That sounds great.”

A smile appeared on Mitch’s face at her words.

Leaning forward, Brody placed a quick kiss on Mitch’s cheek, causing him to blush.

“Ready?” Brody put her mask back on.

"Yeah!” Mitch scrambled up to his feet and did the same.

With that the pair attached their webs to a nearby building and swung down back to the normalcy of life.