#nothing anyone hasn't said before

[boxfullaturtles]

Thinking about how Rise turtles were created specifically to be warriors, to be fighters, to be lethal weapons of destruction on a massive scale.

Thinking about how Hamato Yoshi was supposed to be a defender, a sacrifice, to do his duty because that's what he was born to do.

Thinking about how Lou Jitsu ran away from everything he was supposed to be, how he fled his family name and tried to leave it behind him.

Thinking about how Splinter stole the turtles because he saw his family's legacy in their fate if they stayed with Draxum, how they were innocents who would be subjected to war in someone else's name.

Thinking about how even though Splinter and the turtles, actively and passively, attempted to avoid the path to battle, they ended up there anyway.

Thinking about how the Rise turtles did exactly what they were supposed to do, what they were designed to do. They did the very thing they were built for. They went to war, they destroyed, they defended, they sacrificed.

Thinking about how the Hamato family will always end up fighting, no matter how far they run, no matter how deep they hide. That their bloodline carries the fate of the world in it, whether they want it or not.

[haaam-guuuurl]

good gods this has to stop -

everyone, it's percy JACKSON and the olympians, not percy JACKON, please please fix your tags we can't let it trend like this 😭😭

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

[shotmrmiller]

A familiar face pays you a visit a few days after you wake up next to a living Simon Riley.

"Captain MacTavish. You are much younger now than when I last saw you."

His crystal blue eyes widen when he realizes what you've said.

"Captain? That's what I am in yer time?" he asks, his disbelief apparent. "Did I also have a wife?"

Before you can answer him, Simon Ghost storms into the room and locks eyes with MacTavish, whose spine has gone stiff, expecting a reprimand.

"Get out, Sergeant. You're not to be in here again, understood?" his tone is austere.

"Aye, sir." MacTavish mouths an apology your way, and swiftly walks out the door, leaving you alone with the man who wears the face of your husband.

"You," he pivots on his heels to look at you, his eyes dark, swirling with fury, "are to talk to no one here. As far as I'm concerned, you're an enemy. Why the Captain hasn't locked you up in a cage is beyond me."

As you feel that unmistakable feeling of your throat tightening, your eyes well up with tears, causing your vision to blur. Your Simon would never look at you like that— never speak to you like this.

Understanding that this isn't a discussion, you turn away, clenching your jaw to suppress the overwhelming urge to sob. There is a sharp ache in your chest, a poignant sting that relentlessly pierces your heart.

But a harsh grip on your chin jerks your attention back to Ghost so abruptly your neck pops, and growls, "Don't turn your back to me, bint. I'm not done talkin'."

Meeting his gaze, your eyes betray you as tears overflow, tracing a path of glistening sorrow down your face.

"Now I see why you haven't married in this life," you choke out. "You're a bitter, foul shell of a man with no sympathy."

Angrily wiping your cheeks and grabbing at his thick wrist, you lurch it away from you.

You grab at the dog tags that have been hidden under your shirt. "I have been nothing but miserable since I met you. I loved my husband with everything I had and so painfully wished I had been buried with him."

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, and you remark, "You may share his body, but you are nothing like him."

"I don't know how anyone could ever grow to love you."

The room is quiet, except for your shaky breathing and occasional sniffle. Ghost remains stock-still in front of you, unblinking. He slowly rises to full height and silently walks out of the room.

You lift the dog tags to press a kiss onto them with a trembling hand, and your thumb runs over the engraved 'Simon "Ghost" Riley' on it.

What have you done?

it's gotta get worse before it gets better :( sorry!

@fruitymoonbeams-blog

part 1 part 3

[bigwishes]

Forced Freak

Tyson was a uni drop out, nothing special about him other than his pretty face and dedication to his diet. He had no real hobbies and no real friends. The only reason people paid him any real attention was because of his body. However guys got pretty turned off after a one night stand with him when they'd wake up and Tyson would have written them critiques about how to improve their bodies and performance in the bedroom.

Tyson was the worst kind of gym bro, not because he had no real personality, but because he was an asshole with no real personality, in fact when he wasn't coming home from the gym, taking selfies in the mirror or scrolling on grinder for someone to bounce on his waist he spent a large portion of his time staring in the mirror admiring his own perfection.

"fuck yeah, I'm probably the hottest guy alive" he'd say as he rubbed his own crotch.

His arrogant attitude had essentially transformed him into a self obsessed autosexual, whilst he enjoyed sex and having a guy put in all the work whilst he laid back in pleasure he still preferred a night to himself and his mirror.

Tyson flexed his arm one last time, admiring the perfection before him before he turned off his alarm and got up to go to the gym.

"well, I'll see you when I get home handsome" he said winking at his own reflection and snapping his underwear band.

He threw on the folded red tank top and black gym shorts he had lying on his dresser, the ones he had steamed the night before. As he walked out the door he picked up his glass from his morning water and placed it neatly in the dishwasher before turning it on and leaving for the gym.

Upon arriving at the gym Tyson walked into the welcome area where he found 3 tall bodybuilders lined up at the key scanner. Tyson rolled his eyes and tried to avoid contact with them, he hated those freaks. The guys who willingly chose to inflate themselves with disgusting amounts of muscle. Who could barely fit in their cars and he huffed and sweat like bovine beasts when they got on the treadmill.

Tyson quickly got impatient and began tapping his foot as the 3 meatheads were holding up the line.

"are you beasts gonna scan in or am I just waiting here all day"

The three turned their heads to them almost in unison

"yoo you think we are beasts huhu" one flexed his enormous bicep that dwarfed Tyson's head

"hey Ty, what up lil dude. Wanna hit bench with us today? we we can help you grow that chest"

Tyson was disgusted at the thought of working out with the three of them and smelling their terrible stench or listening to them heaving for air.

"no thanks, its hard to improve upon perfection" Tyson said with a smirk

"aw come on dude, you can always improve and get bigger, you aint even close to your limit"

"and I dont want to be" Tyson said with a disgusted frown and one raised eyebrow

There was a loud ding and the three bodybuilders began waddling and shuffling their way through the electronic gate into the gym, having to turn sideways slightly to get their hulking frames in the turn gate.

"This is what I mean" laughed Tyson

"haha, can't blame us for being absolute units man"

"But doesn't it annoy the fuck out of you being like that?"

"no way bro, being this big is fucking awesome"

the three bodybuilders all began laughing and flexing

"I'm sorry I really dont see how turning myself into a...freak would be awesome"

There was a dead silence as the three bodybuilders stopped laughing and turned to him.

"that's a bit of a harsh word bro"

"yeah man don't diss the hobby coz you aint into it"

Tyson smirked flicking as he polished his fitness watch with the edge of his jumper "dude I dont think anyone is into it"

"what the fuck is that supposed to mean"

"umm being so big you have no style because you cant fit into anything, constantly covered in sweat marks, you reek after just a few minutes of exercise, you gulp down water like an elephant who hasn't drunk in a year, can barely fit in your cars and take up so much space, plus I like when guys find me attractive and aren't grossed out by my monstrous body" Tyson turned his back placing his gym bag in the locker completely unaware that the three men he had just insulted looked so red their heads could pop with anger.

"I'LL LET YOU KNOW MY HUSBAND LOOOOVVVEEESSS MY SIZE" the bodybuilder in the middle yelled through his teeth

"whoooaa jayce" the two others said in unison as they grabbed him by the chest and stopped him taking a step forward

"don't shoot the messenger buddy but Im pretty sure your husband wouldn't be disappointed if you lost 30-40lsb of muscle, pretty sure he'd enjoy date night without sitting across from a behemoth stuffing himself so full of protein like a slob"

Jayce threw his arms up in the air and pushed his two friends off of him turning around and walking away.

Tyson ignored the interaction implying pulling his towel and drink bottle out of his gym bag.

"You know what you need Ty..."

"and what's that Mark?" Tyson tiredly asked rolling his eyes

"A real good bulk, make ya real big, that'll change your mind" Mark smirked looking at his friend who was smiling back.

"whatever" Tyson groaned as he walked off into the gym.

---

A few hours had passed and Tyson was in the changing room admiring himself after his workout. It was enough to pump him to that perfect spot where he looked just slightly bigger and was a little sore, but not enough to make him sweat or stimulate the sort of growth a lot of gym guys were after.

Tyson flexed one bicep and ran his other hand down his thigh feeling himself get hard.

"Oh yeah handsome, just wait till I get you in my bed" He smirked at his own reflection.

Just then he heard the sound to the changing rooms open, his hand quickly shot up from his thigh, not wanting anyone to see his moment of lust.

He watched in the mirror as Jayce rounded the corner, his massive and wide shoulders causing him to bump into subway tiled wall. A massive smile lit up on Jayce's face as he saw Tyson standing there.

"Yep" Jayce yelled out

Dylan quickly followed behind and began walking towards Tyson, not that he thought much of it.

"Grab his left Dylan?"

"No worried Jayce"

Tyson was shocked as the two hulking bodybuilders suddenly grabbed hold of his arms and used what felt like all of their strength to sandwich him between them.

"h-HEY WHAT THE FUCK GET OFF" Tyson struggled and squirmed to get out of there grip but it felt like he was being pressed between two stone walls, he was unable to do anything other than pathetically kick his legs.

Just then Tyson heard the door to the changing rooms lock as Mark rounded the corner.

"Mark!, tell your fucking boys to let me go!"

The three bodybuilder's laughed as Mark walked closer holding a strange metal container in his hand that resembled a protein shaker.

"Hey lil dude" Said Mark with a big smirk across his face

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THREE WANT" Tyson snapped.

"to prove you wrong man" Jayce whispered

'w-what" Tyson continued to flounder and squirm to no avail

"you said being a bodybuilder sucked, well we are gonna prove you wrong" Dylan smirked tightly squeezing Tyson's arms

"h-how, Im not gonna start bodybuilding because you three threaten me"

"oh there is no threat bud, we have got something we want to try but dont know about the side effects wanna test it"

"ARE YOU GONNA JAB MY ASS FULL OF ROIDS" Tyson squeaked pathetically

"no dude, of course not" Said Mark

"we already know the side effects to roids" laughed Jayce

Mark grabbed onto Tyson's perfect hair and forcefully pulled his head back, Tyson couldn't see but he felt Jayce wrap his giant muscular arm around his pinning his between Jayce's bulky bicep and forearm and grabbing his cheeks forcing his jaw open.

"bottoms up pretty boy" Mark said as he flicked the cap off the contained with his thumb and shoved the mouth piece into Tyson's mouth.

"MMMMM -MMMM -MMMMMMM!!!!!!" Tyson tried to yell but his mouth was full of a strange thick liquid.

Mark dropped the contained and grabbed Tyson's nose still forcing the container to his lips

"gotta drink if you wanna breathe buddy"

Tyson couldn't hold it any longer

GULP...GULP...GULP.....GULP

Tyson sucked down what was in his mouth and what continued to pour from the container, when the last drop was drunk and all he could taste was air the three bodybuilders all let go in unison and Tyson dropped to the ground gasping for air.

"How long does it take to work Mark?"

"errr container says a few minutes for a start and a week for full effects"

Tyson couldn't concentrate on what the three were talking about, his body began to feel like it was being super heated, like his muscles and bones were being fried into pudy.

Tyson's hand began to tremble, as he looked at it pressed against the cold tiled floor he noticed his thumb enlarging, getting longer and thicker, it spread to all his fingers and his hand, at first he thought it was an allergic reaction but it wasn't puffy or fat, it was hard solid and defined, like all the muscles in his hands were suddenly expanding, he watched as his handed swelled up to the size of dinner plates as veins in his arms and forearms pumped in sync with his heart beat.

His forearms stared growing outwards and he felt his already tight and pumped biceps ache as they swelled even bigger. Seeing his reflection in the mirror he looked like a bad art project as different parts of his body were swelling with size and different times, his shoulders got wider as his calves got bigger, his pecs inflated as his feet grew out of his shoes, his abs bloated into a semi roid gut as his quads quickly filled with blood, and his ass pumped up into a big meaty globe as his traps crept up his back swallowing his necks.

after just a few minutes the three bodybuilders were stunned looking down at the sweaty bulky mess that was Tyson on the floor of the changing room.

Tyson had watched the whole thing in the mirror but still he couldn't recognise himself, what had happened, what they did to him.

He looked like one of them, a bodybuilder.

"w-what did you do to me" Tyson moaned, out of breath and out of energy

"damn, he got huge so quick, and he still has a week to go?"

"please, no, no bigger, turn me back"

the three bodybuilders began to have a conversation around Tyson like he wasn't even there as he tried to pick himself up off the floor. A few minutes passed and Tyson finally stood up. He felt uncomfortable, muscles he didn't even know where near each other rubbed up against each other like every aspect of his body was fighting for space.

Tyson looked at himself horrified in the mirror at the big bulky freak he had become.

"oh fuck..m..my perfect body" he turned to the three men behind him "please, please you gotta turn me back"

"you still got a week of growin left bud" Mark replied

"PLEASE I CAN'T GET BIGGER"

Jayce smirked trying to contain his laughter

"Look dude, we said we were gonna show you how being a bodybuilder is awesome, let it go for a week and we'll check back in and if you still hate it, we'll turn you back"

Tyson turned back to his reflection and flexed, freaked out by his bicep being larger than his own head.

"see, its already awesome, see you later dude"

The three bodybuilders started walking out of the changing room

"no WAIT!!"

Tyson ran over to his bag feeling the weight of his new body with every step and feeling his hard muscles bounce. He leant over and swung his bag over his shoulder. He watched as the door closed behind the three and he ran to catch up. Every step was a chore, it was like an entire workout for just one leg to hold up the weight of his new massive body.

By the time he reached the door Tyson doubled over gasping for air, he placed his giant meaty hand on the wall and slid down the the floor, he had only run a few feet but it felt like he had just done and three hours of cardio without a break, he felt the sweat running down his back and struggled to come up with a reason anyone would want to be this big, why guys would dedicate their lives to become titans.

it took 15 minutes, for Tyson to catch his breath and stand up again and by the time that happened the three he was after were already gone, he walked through the gym defeated hoping nobody would recognise him. He made it to the turn gate and as he went to go through he felt a hard pressing against his shoulders. Not at all used to his new size Tyson hadn't adjusted the angle that he approached the gate and found himself stuck between the two steel bars. Tyson pushed with his back leg but didn't realise the power behind his colossal quads as he easily pushed himself out but he couldn't stop the moment and he came tumbling forward face first onto the floor in front and multiple gym attendants.

"woah, you okay big guy" one of them asked,

Tyson looked up and saw the other two doing their best not to laugh.

"yeah I'm fine!" Tyson tried to get up as fast as he could but the sheer weight of his frame meant it was an awkward step by step process that took almost a whole minute.

Tyson quickly raced out the doors as fast as his could but once again misjudged his giant muscles and his two shoulders slammed into the automatic doors not realising they weren't wide enough for him. A loud bang rang out and Tyson looked back as the glass automatic doors wobbled and shook, and ounce more pressure and they would have surely crashed down around him.

Tyson waddled through the car park desperate to get to his car. Swinging open the door he quickly realised why he had never seen a bodybuilder in a sleek sports car, he didn't fit, just one leg stepped in and there wasn't any more room for him to squeeze in. He tried everything, moving the seat back, moving the wheel up, but still he didn't fit. After about 10 minutes of doing everything he could think of to get in he just decided to force his way in.

Sliding into the car he felt cramped, and when he closed the driver's door it bounced off his arm and swung back open denting the car next to him. Tyson tried again leaning all the way into his car and shutting the door. It shut but as he sat back up he found himself on an awkward angle to the wheel, he tried to adjust himself to roll down the window so he could stick his arm out and get more space but as he placed his arm down on the leather seat to push his own body out the way he heard a loud tearing. His clothes didn't feel loser and he couldn't see what had torn but it sounded bad...

When Tyson arrived home he squeezed himself out of his car, it felt like being freed from a sardine can but as he turned around to shut his door he had found the source of the tearing noise from earlier, in the centre of the seat, directly under where he was, was now a large split right down the leather, seats that cost over a thousand dollars to fix split apart like paper, and that wasn't the worst of it, he looked at the lower back of the seat to see how the leather had warped and swollen from the amount of sweat that had been pressed against it.

"AW MAN" Tyson moaned slammed his car door, not realising the force his arms were able to put behind it and as the door lodged into place his hand carried the momentum behind it straight into the metal of the car leaving a large dent from his palm.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME"

Tyson stormed over to his front door just wanting the day to end. He pulled up his keys to the front door and fumbled for a few minutes as he struggled to sort though them with his massive meaty fingers, finally he got in the door and shut it behind him as gently as he could which still resulted in a slam.

His stomach let out a loud groan, he had never felt so hungry so sudden in his life, Tyson tried to walk to the kitchen but realised it was more of a waddle has his massive muscular thighs slammed into each other. Arriving in front of his fridge he opened it up and grabbed one of his already made meals out and placed it in the microwave to heat up. He watched in spinning round and heard his stomach grumble as the 2 minutes felt like an entirety. Finally he heard the beep and opened up the microwave to devour his meal. What normally would have left him feeling full for hours didn't even make a dent in his hunger. Tyson opened up his fridge and moved on to his next meal without even heating it up, then another, then a protein shake to wash it down, then another meal and a couple apples, along with a banana or two, and of course he had to pull some of the muffins out of the freezer to defrost to have a bit later.

Tyson sat on his couch, feeling groggy and finally full. He looked around him, plates, protein shakers, wrappers and plastic containers were spread out all over his lounge room from the floor to the coffee table. He felt so heavy he didn't want to get up, he just wanted to pass out on his couch and go to sleep. As his eyes began to drift close...

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

The loudest belch he had ever heard forced him to jolt awake.

"aw fuc-uuuuUUURRPPP, this place is a mess"

Tyson finally realised he had trashed his lounge room in his feeding frenzy, he got up to try and clean but he didn't get very far. His body was so massive it was hard to move between his furniture and it was hard for him to constantly bend down to pick stuff up. On his second trip back from the kitchen to clean the last of the mess he finally noticed where he had been sitting, and the enormous sweat patch pressed into the fabric.

He pulled his tight tank top out from his body realising it looked like he had never washed it in his life.

"god, I need a fucking shower"

He made his way down the hall to the bathroom where he was shocked by his own reflection. He knew he had been turned into a hulking behemoth but, he looked like a completely different person now. His tank top was tight and clung to his body as his pecs hung out the sides. It was covered in sweat patches and strains from spilt protein shakes and food. His face was covered in a coat of sweat and his hair was oiler than he'd ever seen before. Tyson's gut churned as he let out another belch. He suddenly felt a tightness in his pants and he got hard.

"what the fuck..."

Tyson lifted up one arm to flex his bicep, he watched the sweat running down from his pits to his lats, he swallowed a quick gulp of air expecting maybe a small burp but was greeted with a massive room shaking belch. Tyson couldn't help it, he got rock solid staring at his sweaty body and hearing his own manly belching.

He worked his hand down awkwardly to his dick and started to pleasure himself.

He couldn't work it out, he missed his perfect body, he missed his old self, he was grossed out by being such a freak but god he was too horny to not please himself.

Right before his big moment he felt a wave of heat surge out into his body, his clothes felt tighter and suddenly the left strap of his tank top snapped as his shoulder, pec and arm practically doubled in size.

"AAH NO, NO NOT AGAIN"

Tyson watched as his dirty tank was torn to shreds by his growing body. His shorts felt tighter and tighter, soon he felt the sound of ripping fabric. As he turned to the side to inspect his growing legs he saw as his muscled ass split his pants in the back and the fabric quickly tore through making his shorts look like a bad loin clothe prop from a Halloween costume.

"OH FUCK NO, STOP, STOP AHHHH"

Tyson could only watch as his body continued to rapidly grow in the mirror...

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

3 weeks later

Tyson leant back on the workout bench groaning and gasping for air. It was the most he had ever lifted, not that he wanted to get bigger but it was the only thing he could do with his day at this point.

He heard the noise of 3 guys cheering as Mark, Jayce and Dyaln approached him.

"HEY BIG MAN" Said Mark

"oh great, what do you guys want"

"relax big guy, just wanted to bring you a snack" Dylan laughed as he pulled out a paper bag of drive through crispy chicken and handed it to Tyson.

"Dont forget to wash it down" said Jayce handing him a protein shake

Tyson didn't have the will power to hold back, his new muscle and size burnt so much fuel from simple existing he was practically starving constantly. He immediately reached into the bag and started eating as much as he could as fast as he could, washing it down with a swig of the protein shake, only taking breaks to gasp for air.

A river of chocolate protein ran down his cheek and dripped onto his XXXL tank top, which looked more like a medium crop top on him.

A young handsome gym attendant walked over to the group with a smile on his face.

"hey guys, just a reminder, you can't eat like that in here save it for outside okay" He smiled as he looked straight into Tyson's eyes.

Tyson's mind was racing, this guy was the most handsome guy he had ever seen in his life, we wanted to apologise for being such a slob, hell, he wanted to ask the guy on a date.

Tyson rubbed the crumbs and protein from his mouth away with the back of his hand and opened his mouth. Immediately he gritted his teeth and almost by instinct at this point cocked the side of his mouth open.

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPP!!

Tyson couldn't help but belch and burp as he struggled to get a word out.

"bro..that's nasty" the gym attendant laughed as he walked away.

Mark, Jayce and Dylan all erupted with laughter.

"DUUUUUUDDEEEE" yelled Dylan

"You aren't gonna get a date like that dude I tell you that" laughed Jayce

"They probably wouldn't date him even if he didn't burp every couple of minutes, I mean who wants to date a bodybuilder freak right guys" Mark laughed as he rubbed Tyson's shoulders

"Yeah, you're right Mark, nobody wants a freak like Tyson" Dylan chuckled.

Tyson couldn't control it, the sound of their laughter, the way the three called him a freak and a slob. His dick got hard and he felt as a mixture of pre and cum leaked into his underwear.

They were never going to change him back, he was going to be stuck as this good for nothing muscle pig, forever....

he threw himself back down on the bench..

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

[pomefioredove]

a private meeting

summary: yuu makes a list of the top five cutest third years. the following conversation type of post: short fic characters: cater, trey, leona, rook, vil, idia mentioned, lilia, malleus additional info: romantic?? platonic?? idk, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, this is more for character interactions. and fun

"I'm sure you're all well aware of why we're here,"

The eight gentleman standing around the dark, candlelit room look between each other.

Leona yawns.

"How long is this gonna take, exactly? I was dragged outta bed for this,"

Vil glares. "Hush. I wanted to deal with this matter in the quietest manner possible, without disturbing the prefect. Sevens know what happens when your egos go unchecked,"

"Look who's talking,"

Another glare, but Vil chooses not to waste any more time.

"Two nights ago, the prefect hosted a slumber party for Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and our own Epel Felmier,"

"I remember that," Lilia says, rubbing his chin. "Sebek was invited, but refused in case someone attacked Malleus whilst he was away."

Malleus shakes his head.

"During this event, the prefect created a list of the top five "cutest third years", as we all know. And, to avoid any childish squabbling, I've gathered you all here to open it as an ensemble. Rook?"

A slim, folded sheet of notebook paper appears from the dark of Rook Hunt's pocket. He holds it up, as if presenting it to the heavens.

"Where did you even find that?" Trey asks, adjusting his glasses.

"Facile! It was buried under a stack of homework assignments in our dearest Trickster's bedroom," the blond says merrily.

"Logistically speaking, that's almost too easy. Are we sure it isn't a fake?" Ortho pipes up.

"Ortho?" Vil asks. "What are you doing here?"

The boy giggles in an electronic chime. "Idia is hiding under his covers and won't come out, so I'm here in his place!"

"...Alright,"

"I don't know what he's so nervous for," Vil goes on. "When I am already guaranteed to be in the first place slot."

Leona scoffs, kicking back with his feet on the table. Vil glares again.

"How rude,"

"He's not wrong. You are the most beautiful here..." a smile creeps up Lilia's face. "But, as I recall, you said cutest third years, not most beautiful. And if anyone is the cutest, it's me."

"Oh, spare me," Leona sighs. "Let's just get this over with. Open the damn thing."

"You're not the least bit curious, Leona?" the fae asks, batting his large eyes.

"Don't patronize me. And no, I'm not. I couldn't care less,"

Lilia smirks, but says nothing more on the matter.

He turns to his tablemate. "And what say you, Malleus?"

Every person in the room falls silent, and then turn to the prince sitting at the furthest corner of the table with his hands folded in front of him.

He hasn't shared a single thought all evening.

"...The contents of this list make no difference to me," he finally speaks. "My feelings towards the prefect will be unaffected."

Rook sets a hand over his heart. "Quelle beauté! I am moved! Not even the strongest of winds could make your friendship bow,"

Leona groans as if he's in agonizing pain.

"Open it!"

"Okay, hold on. Isn't this like, a major privacy violation?" Cater says. He doesn't sound eager to see the results, either.

"I would hate for someone to read my private thoughts to a room full of people."

"He may have a point. This was a list made between friends at a slumber party. Taking it out of that context could be disastrous," Trey agrees.

"There's a 96% chance this will end in conflict!" Ortho chimes in, merry as ever. Leona sighs.

"Can I just leave?"

"No," Vil snaps. "Rook, open it."

"Rook, don't,"

"Rook!"

The poor man observes the conflict slowly unraveling before him, and he sets the folded sheet of paper on the table.

"Now, now, do not squabble! Let this be a chance to celebrate our bonds with the lovely prefect!"

"I agree with Rook," Lilia smiles big. "We should all agree that no matter what is on that list, we'll leave it after tonight and move on."

Vil sighs. "Yes, yes. You're all right. We can't let what they wrote at a private slumber party affect our relationships with them,"

"No matter what, we leave them out of this. Agreed?"

Everyone in the room nods.

"Alright. Rook, read it,"

Rook reaches behind him, the anticipation building, and... is met with a cool wooden surface.

The note seems to have disappeared into thin air.

Before anyone can express their obvious confusion, an evil cackling pulls their attention to the doorway.

Vil gasps.

"Grim! Put that down!"

The small direbeast, now holding a crumpled piece of paper in his paw, smiles wickedly.

And then, to everyone's horror, he eats it whole.

Leona is the first to react, storming over and lifting Grim by the scruff of his neck. "Seriously?!"

"Fufufu. Looks like someone cared, after all," Lilia chuckles. Vil rolls his eyes.

"Hey! Not my fault you guys were so loud! You woke me up from my nap over a stupid list!" Grim says, crossing his arms.

A brief silence follows, and then a sigh. Leona drops him and he lands on his feet.

"Perhaps Grim is right," Ortho says. "Instead of worrying about the numerical grade the prefect assigns you, you should focus on the unique and special aspects of your individual relationships!"

"How eloquent!" Rook coos. "Oui, you are right! Sometimes it is best to let secrets remain secrets."

"Something about the way he says that tells me he already knows what it said," Leona grumbles.

"Ohoho. A fascinating mystery, non? Did I sneak a peek before tonight, or am I just as clueless as you?"

The prince rolls his eyes.

Vil sighs. "Ortho is right. Now I feel ridiculous for getting so worked up over what amounts to a joke at a slumber party,"

Everyone grows quiet, seemingly reflecting on themselves for the duration of the brief silence.

Lilia's giggles change the melancholic mood of the room.

"Perhaps Malleus had the right idea all along. It doesn't matter who the prefect thinks is more attractive; they're still a wonderful friend. How wise- I'm very proud,"

Malleus beams.

"Yeah yeah," Grim grumbles, turning to the door. "I didja a favor, anyway. None of you weirdos were number one."

He leaves, and he takes the peace and reflection with him.

Slowly, everyone turns to each other.

[tititilani]

I can't stop thinking about if Simon had taken Edwin's offer

Like Charles finds Edwin in the hallway as ever but this time there's another boy there too, cowering against the wall next to him. Maybe the dollhead spider doesn't care about Simon, too busy focusing on its favorite target, so Charles is left standing in the hallway with Simon when Edwin is taken.

They get out of hell, but Edwin doesn't confess due to Simon hovering behind his elbow. He doesn't want to confess his emotions in front of his killer, who he probably hasn't even properly figured out how he's feeling towards yet.

The Night Nurse is pissed they came out with an extra soul but Niko's same loophole still applies and Simon stays.

"This is Simon," Edwin says when it's all said and done, finally introducing the boy that's been hiding behind him since the door closed. "He was a...classmate of mine."

"He saved me," Simon says, looking up at Edwin moony-eyed and Charles knows that look and something settles heavy in his stomach.

"Glad to have ya, mate," he tells him even though the words taste sour. This other boy knew Edwin when he was alive, the thought is slightly terrifying to him.

Simon settles in fine with the agency even if the agency feels a little crowded now with five people in it but he continues to moon over Edwin and Edwin just...never tells anyone how they actually knew each other. He reasons it just doesn't matter, that he can't find the right time, whatever.

Charles never really warms up to him, though he tries to hide it, but he sees the looks Simon gives Edwin, a soppy smitten look that is somehow worse than anything Monty or the Cat King ever tried with Edwin because of all of them, Simon arguably knows the most about like Edwardian courting. That, like Edwin, Simon has also survived hell. Charles hates the idea that someone could potentially understand Edwin more than he does.

He hates it so much that nothing further happens between him and Crystal because the idea of Edwin being left alone with Simon bothers him so much. He sees Simon adjusting Edwin's collar one (1) time and it makes him feel sick.

And then there's the fortune-teller.

They only go to her sometimes for cases because she never fails to freak Charles out but her prophecies tend to be accurate like 60% of the time which is pretty good for a fortune teller. She looks at the two of them at the end, because it is just the two of them for once, and then looks just at Edwin.

"How kind you are," she says, the words a compliment but the tone snide. "To house your killer. Pray tell it doesn't come back to you."

"What." Charles says. "The fuck."

Charles is furious, of course, and it takes Edwin a long time to talk him out of smashing Simon's face in with the new cricket bat.

"He's like me," he insists in that quiet but firm voice. Charles wants to scream that Simon is nothing like Edwin - that he doesn't have a fraction of Edwin's kindness or pissiness, that his blue eyes are not nearly as beautiful as Edwin's green - but before he can even open his mouth, Edwin continues. "He...He likes boys, Charles. He likes me."

Oh. Oh.

Charles stares at Edwin who is looking back at him, trying and failing to hide the fact he's terrified, and Charles doesn't give one shit that Edwin likes boys because he's his best mate forever. He's still pissed that Simon is apparently staying but he has to hug Edwin at that. "I'm still pissed you didn't tell me about him," is all he says, swallowing back the other words he wants to say.

Charles grows even more paranoid about Simon being around, who has to get used to the fact that Charles takes to swinging his cricket bat ominously every time he comes within ten feet of Edwin. He finds out that adjusting clothing was an Edwardian courting thing and wants to break something. The very idea the very person who killed his best mate is now trying to put the moves on said best mate pisses him off.

It also makes him think of numerous times Edwin had readjusted his collar or jacket in the past and it makes his non-existent stomach flip.

Eventually, Simon decides he's ready to move on to his after-life and Charles keeps his hands from fisting when he looks at Edwin with that same soppy look. He knows Edwin has forgiven Simon by now but Charles has always been better at holding a grudge and he knows what is going to come out of Simon's mouth before he even asks. He knows that if Edwin says yes, he won't stop him.

Charles also knows that if Edwin does, there is no way he is going to find any kind of his own afterlife.

"You could come with me," Simon says hopefully and the moment after is the longest in Charles' life.

"Thank you, Simon," Edwin says kindly and Charles has to keep himself from crying. "But I have no interest in going anywhere without Charles."

He steps back - away from Simon and back towards Charles. Ears suspiciously pink, Edwin links their hands and they watch as Simon follows the Night Nurse.

[loulovingho]

no but tommy and buck get into a fight and it's a big one. one that feels like the end and hurts like the end and they haven't spoken in a couple days. tommy is at his place sulking when there's a knock on his door. he opens it and is surprised to see howie there, wanting to check on him. he comes in and they talk for a bit. howie tells him to give buck a little time. they'll figure everything out. he's never been like this with anyone before. it hurts more when you really care about someone.

after howie leaves, tommy only has about ten minutes to himself before there's another knock on the door. bobby this time. he says he's there because he made too much meatloaf and mashed potatoes and was just gonna drop off some extras. but he stays and warms up the food and eats with tommy, making sure he finishes his plate because bobby knows he probably hasn't eaten in a while.

he gets a text from hen a few hours later reminding him that they're both stubborn and one of them needs to stop being an idiot first so they can fix things. tommy texts back that he really screwed up, and she replies that they both said things they didn't mean, and the thing about a mutual screw up is that you can mutually apologize and mutually learn from it and mutually agree to do better.

it's late, like middle of the night late, when he gets a simple text from maddie. it's just a heart, nothing more, and tommy's pretty sure that buck is probably there with her right now spilling his guts to her about their fight. it takes him twenty minutes to gather enough courage to send a heart back.

he doesn't sleep, just like he hasn't for the last two nights, and there's a knock on his door before the sun comes up. it's eddie this time, and he's glaring at tommy with a six pack in his hands. he tells tommy he will not let buck sleep on his couch another night because the snoring is ridiculous and the whining is even worse. he was on the phone with maddie until 3am and he has no idea how to whisper apparently. still, even in his annoyance, he comes in and asks tommy how he's doing. they sit on the couch and talk and drink because even though it's early they've both lost all sense of time.

in all this, tommy admits he is kind of shocked, because everyone from the 118 has checked on him in some way. eddie shrugs, answers simply, "you're family too, man." it's the first time tommy realizes he doesn't have these people just because of evan, he has them because they like him and want him around.

obviously, buck arrives at tommy's place a couple hours later. he's panicked and shaky when tommy answers the door, which immediately worries tommy because he hates to see evan like that. but the panic turns to shock when he sees tommy is actually there and he grabs at his heart as he exclaims, "chimney told me you were dead!"

they end up apologizing, making up and promising to be better. tommy shoots chimney a text. seriously, howie, you told him i was dead?

howie responds: 100% success rate with that one. you can thank me later.

[singmyaubade]

OKAY OKAY idk if you still do Eddie Munson if not it's fine but I just ended a situationship/fwb with a rude white boy, I lowk wanna see a fanfic. where Eddie has this relationship with reader, then he flirts with someone else and takes them to bed, and reader is just heartbroken,and gets revenge

toxic!eddie munson x female!reader

summary: you think I’d let him destroy me and end up happier than ever? no fucking way. he doesn’t get to win.

warnings: smut! 18+, cursing, very much angst, arguing, mature content, etc..

a/n: wow, you actually got me out of hibernation with this one. i haven't wrote eddie in a long time so bear with me but since fuckboys very much PISS ME OFF, i had to do you a solid and i hope you enjoy! as always, apologize if you hate this.

Your relationship with Eddie was not something that you could explain in a few short words. Of course, it was complex, complicated, difficult, angering, loving, warm.... But again, not something you could name with a few short words.

It had been about three months ago when you caught Eddie staring at your ass while you were playing dodgeball and he was sitting at the bleachers.

He had that sly smile on and his back leaning on one of the levels on the bleachers, staring at you intently. Not only was it enough to catch your attention but enough for you to keep looking.

All it took was a wink and a few whispers in the locker room for you to be hooked. But after, Eddie had made it clear with you that he wasn't ready to be in a relationship.

Eddie kissed your neck while his grip on your neck was harsh, "Listen baby, I want this so fucking bad but I'm not ready for somethin' serious," He whispered but the trance you were in only had you saying,

"Uh-huh,"

And since then, you had been stuck in a friends with benefits situation with Eddie Munson.

It wasn't the worse thing in the world but sometimes, it never felt the best. I mean, it wasn't like Eddie was an asshole who didn't care about you after you fucked or did anything. He would always cuddle you or clean you up when you felt tired.

He would always let you vent to him, give you kisses, and make you laugh. Those were the times when you felt like you could be more with him.

And then there would be times where he talked about Stacey Callahan's ass with a sly smile and glint in his eye, almost making you want to stab him.

You would shoot daggers into him but he would never notice because he considered you a friend.

And you could never tell him your real feelings because then you guys would be nothing and that seemed like a worse fate.

But at least, he never made an actual pass at girls in front of you and from what he had told you, he hasn't fucked anyone since you and him had started.

And that made you feel like you could be more.

But you were afraid you spoke too soon when you were trying to find Eddie and saw him and Caroline Blaren making out under the bleachers.

His hand groping her ass and her moans echoing throughout the gym. If it wasn't for the fact that it was after school, almost half the school population would've been cursed with this sight.

His mouth leaving hot kisses on her neck as he did with you a multitude of times, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she giggled.

For the first time in your life, you had felt as if your heart had shattered.

A part of you wanted to make a scene, maybe go batshit crazy and curse Eddie to the brink of eternity and then the other part of you wanted to walk away, realize that you were worth more than someone who you thought cared for your feelings or for you at all.

Before you could leave the gym and maybe cry in a corner, Eddie locks eyes with you and smiles before he excuses himself and tells Caroline to wait under the bleachers.

She scoffs a little bit but twirls her hair as she stands there, mugging you.

You still have a shocked expression as Eddie approaches you, grinning ear to ear,

"I know I said we were gonna meet today but," He shyly cheers, "I've been trying to bag this for months and I really need this, Y/N, we can meet tomorrow though," He says as if this was casual.

You blinked at him as he awkwardly laughed at your expression, "Earth to Y/N?" He waved his hand in your face as you closed your mouth and swallowed.

You did your best to form a smile, "Uh- yeah sure,"

He cheered, kissing you on the cheek, "You're the best, I owe you one," He winked at you before going back to Caroline.

He put his arm around her shoulder before exiting the other way of the gym.

You couldn't believe that you let Eddie Munson break your heart.

There were multiple thoughts entering your head the sight of this.

One was that you were a complete idiot and let Eddie Munson play you like a fiddle. The second was that he had never taken you seriously. The third was that you needed to make him feel as you did.

And maybe it was petty for you to feel like you needed revenge but you couldn't let Eddie get away with making multiple girls feel this way,

Harmless to him but cruel to you.

And now you had to make him pay which you knew wasn't going to be easy.

Making Eddie Munson jealous was one of those things that was damn near impossible. He always prided himself in being as 'chill as a cucumber, when it came to his love life.

You had never seen him get jealous once and you didn't even think it was a feeling to him.

But you did know Eddie hated being ignored.

You remembered when he jokingly called your ass flat and you ignored him for an hour before he looked like he was on the brink of tears.

That was the one sore sport of his that you knew of and it certainly wouldn't hurt to use it to your advantage.

So when Eddie had called you that very night, you answered but not with the same eagerness you always had,

"Hello?" You answered, holding the telephone up to your ear.

"Hey Y/N," You heard Eddie's voice on the other side of line, voice excited.

You swallowed before answering back flatly, "Hi,"

He sounded surprised at your tone but didn't mention it, "Jus' wondering if you wanted to come over, Caroline just left,"

Your blood felt like it was boiling. It was as if he wanted a snack to go with his meal which only pissed you off more and it had been six hours, he had been fucking Caroline for six hours.

"I can't," You said, concealing your anger.

He sounded astonished, "Uh, why not?"

"Busy," You replied, annoyed.

You could feel your vagueness starting to worry him, "Busy with what?" He said snarkily.

"Stuff," You scoffed.

When did Eddie care so much about what you were doing? Maybe once he realized you wouldn't be at his beck and call any longer.

He took a breath, "What about tomorrow?" He asked, hoping your answer would be different.

"I'm busy, Eddie," You snapped.

There was silence on the other line for a few seconds that felt like decades before he replied again, "Is something wrong?" He asked, the worry present in his voice.

"No, I really can't talk right now, I'll see you later," You said quickly, putting the phone back on the link before he could answer.

You sighed, trying your best to feel as if this was the best decision. Of course, you knew ignoring Eddie wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world but you didn't expect it to be the hardest either.

Once Eddie gets fixated, there's not really a way to get him off the case.

And that turned out to be a fact when you saw him at school the next morning,

"Y/N," Someone grabbed your arm, pulling you in the custodian closet.

You made a surprised sound before realizing it was Eddie, "Jesus, I thought you were a murderer," You said, releasing your arm from his grip.

He ignored your joke, locking his eyes into your eyes, "What's up with you?" He asked.

You gulped, "I don't know what you're talking about,"

He scoffed, "You fucking dodged me on the phone,"

You rolled your eyes, "I told you I was busy,"

"You've literally let me eat you out before you had an huge exam in the next hour so that's a load of crap," He replied as you gawked, "So tell me what's actually up,"

You moved your jaw to the side, looking away as Eddie fumed in front of you.

You were lost for words but this didn't stop Eddie from waiting for answer so you gave one,

"I'm done fucking you,"

Eddie looked shocked, lost for words, he almost seemed as if he was having a stroke. He snapped out of his trance by laughing, "Are you serious?"

Your demeanor didn't change, "Deadly."

He bit his lip, almost wanting to laugh because this had to be a joke, "Baby, thats a big decision," His chest was against yours at this point, "Are you sure about this?" He asked, his breath whispering against your ear.

You could feel yourself breathing harder and a bit turned on but you knew this cycle wouldn't end if you didn't stop it. You pushed against his chest as he stepped backwards, "I'm done Eddie." You stated, walking out of the closet and leaving him in there.

You took a deep breath before walking to your class, it was hard to believe that you had just rejected Eddie and that he didn't utterly make you regret it.

You sat in class as you watched Eddie come on minutes after, always arriving after the bell. You could feel the tension radiating off you both but he didn't care to take a glimpse of you, his hard expression already telling enough.

You eyed him as he sat down next to you, a shocked expression on your face. Eddie had never sat down next to you in classes or let alone even show up.

You could already tell he was about to start fucking with you.

As Ms. Rodriguez started her lesson, you started to feel a fingertip tracing your knee as you swallowed. You looked at Eddie but he kept his hard expression, not even a smirk forming.

You watched him as his finger rose higher, almost at the hem of your skirt.

There was something in you that wanted to let him, maybe get your last taste Eddie before it was over forever but if you did this, it would never be over.

You knew this was Eddie trying to win and you couldn't let him.

In a flash, you grabbed his hand which caused him to finally look at you and you slammed it into his own lap. He looked furious and you felt a small victory as he pushed out his chair and stormed out while Ms. Rodriguez yelled for him to come back.

—————

The bell rang as you went towards the cafeteria, going to sit with the mutual friends you shared with Eddie.

Ever since you and Eddie had started hooking up, he had introduced you to his friends and you didn't actually mind sitting with them. They would always banter in front of you which always made you giggle and it was never superficial with them.

Usually, you would've sat next to Eddie but since shit hit the fan, you took a seat next to Gareth.

You saw Eddie shooting daggers into your soul but you kept your composure and ignored him.

You could hear them arguing over something about D&D which only made you laugh before Gareth noticed you, "Hey Y/N!" He beamed as you smiled.

"Hey Gareth, what are you guys talking about?" You asked, looking at him.

Gareth grinned, ready to start his tangent, "Oh so basically, we were talking about if Paladin or the Monk had more of a power bu-"

Eddie cut him off, "What are you doing?" He asked, looking at you as the table went silent.

You steamed, "What are you talking about?"

He began his theatrics, "I mean did I say you could sit here?" The whole table looked between you and him, there had never been one argument between you and Eddie, let alone one in front of them.

You sneered, "Why would I not be allowed to sit here?" You asked, wanting to kill Eddie for doing this in front of everyone.

"Well because, you don't belong here," He said, nonchalantly.

You laughed, "I don't belong here?" Your eyes were locked onto his, anger present in them.

"Yeah," He smirked which only made your blood boil.

"So since I'm sucking your dick anymore, I can't sit here?" You questioned, causing the entire table to gasp.

You weren't planning to reveal that you and Eddie had fucked several times but since he was really trying to get under you, there was no other choice.

"You can't sit here because nobody wants you here, Princess," He said, hatefully.

You looked at everyone around the table but they kept their gazes low, not wanting to go against Eddie.

Eddie was expecting pure anger to come out of you or maybe you would have to reconcile with him and you guys could go back to how you were but instead, you had gotten up and a smile was present on your face.

"I think I'm actually gonna sit with Jason," You slyly said as Eddie felt enraged, "I think that's a dick I actually would like to suck," You grabbed your tray heading over to jock table.

It wasn't exactly the best plan considering you hated Jason but Jason had been trying to get under you for years and this was the only way to get under Eddie's skin.

Your skirt rose up as you blinked dumbly at Jason sitting next to him, "Hi Jason," You sweetly said as he grinned from ear to ear.

"Y/N, what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked, him eyeing your body.

"I was wondering if you could teach me a few things about basketball at yours, I've got a research project," You said, fingers grazing his thigh.

It was not your best effort at being seductive but it was enough to get Jason Carver.

"I think I could help with that, mine at seven?" He said as you nodded.

You turned your back to see Eddie staring at you, more mad than you had ever seen him.

He was jealous.

And this was only the beginning.

[full-cowlings]

virgin izuku thoughts ..

includes   |   virgin! pro hero izuku midoriya . dom-ish? reader. fem!bodied reader ( no pronouns asides from 'you' used ) , dry humping ( sort of ? ) , cumming in pants .. embarrassed izu <3 TWITTER P0RN LINK !!

word count ; 1149 !

currently thinking about pro hero izuku who's surprisingly still a virgin !! imagine how surprised you were when you found out about it ? i mean ... he was just so tall , strong and incredibly handsome .. as well as the number one hero in japan ! he could pick up anybody he wanted ! so how was izuku of all people a virgin ? you two had been a fling for a while now, casual dates here and there, but never really going anything further than the usual make out session and occasional groping here and there . but even that made him nervous , although that was rather adorable in your eyes, really . especially when all you had to do was look him up and down, bite your lip then look away and he'd feel his pants tighten . however, today seemed to be the day that you two got further than your normal ... to which you found out that the pro hero deku ... had never had someone in his bed before ! what an honour it was to be his first ... so , pressing your lips on his and gently laying him down, nothing more was left to be said asides from you promising him that you'd take care of him ...

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xx. [ c/w ,, twitter porn video !! ] thinking of sitting reverse cowgirl on izuku midoriya's lap, riding him through your guys undergarments ... and how cute is it when he cums just from that!! you two were basically completely bare, the only thing separating the two of you being his pair of boxers and your skimpy panties . izuku's bulge is fully visible in his boxers now, the tent visible and it twitching underneath just the slightest brush of your fingertips. your hands are splayed on the pro hero's muscular and toned thighs and again it makes you wonder just how someone of his strength hasn't had anyone in his bed yet . he feels so strong underneath you, which only makes it all the more exciting when you realise he's shivering under the slightest movement from you. your ass is pressed against the tent in his pants, his left hand is settle on your ass as well , holding onto you as you use your hands as leverage to bounce up and down on his lap.

within seconds he's moaning from underneath you, gasps and whimpers falling from izuku's parted lips as his head is thrown back. was all intimate moments this good, or were you just special? how had he gone this long without feeling the soft plush of your skin underneath his scarred fingertips ? izuku's lips part as his voice rings out your name and his hips jump instinctively with every bounce of your hips. the fabric against his restrained cock is both the best and worst thing he has felt. it's restricting from feeling you skin to skin, but at the same time it's putting just the right amount of friction against the head of his cock that he's practically seeing stars already !!

your own lips curl into a coy smile, the fact he's falling apart under you so easily is almost so ego-boosting... who else could say that they had deku in whimpering shambles other than you ??

you glance back at him , eyes clouded in lust as he meets your thrusts to his clothed cock. he has his right arm over his eyes, his head thrown back and yet you can still see the pink tint to his freckled cheeks. biting your lip, you let out a moan yourself, how could someone look so pretty ? " you like that, izu ? " you ask , voice sultry , teasing , and all he can do is nod through his moans . " yesyesyes , oh fuck - ! more, feels so good .. " he's most likely going to look back and cringe in embarrassment after this, knowing his voice was strained from only the feel of your panties and ass rubbing up and down his shaft. you giggle and suddenly there was such a loud gasp that left izuku's mouth as your hips bounced faster. this was ... so much better than feeling his own hand around his cock, thumbing his precum over his swollen head, hips lifting off and thrusting into his own hand as he imagined it was you .. imagined it was your tight pussy he would be fucking instead. the thoughts were too much for poor izu, his mind was swirling with pleasure and suddenly, there was a high pitched whine, his back arching and thighs trembling underneath you. his hand came up to cover his mouth, but it didn't do much other than slightly muffle the lewd sounds he was letting out. cum leaked out from his cock, soaking right through his boxers and staining your pretty underwear .. he had came so fast , but he couldn't help it !! you felt just... so, so heavenly bouncing up and down on him like that ! viridan hues snapped open as he realised what happened, you turning to look down at his leaking dick with a grin of satisfaction. " i - i'm so sorry, i didn't m - mean to - i just- you- " and his words were a jumbled bunch of mess, propping himself to sit up a little more and frantically look for a tissue or anything to clean himself off. his cheeks were so red, the heat from his dick rising now to his face, creeping to his ears and back of his neck... he didn't mean to cum, honest !! but before he could, two of your fingers reached down and swiped over the dampened fabric, brushing over his sensitive cock which twitched and made him whine again. despite the fact his chest was rising and falling so fast, so heavily, he was still hard .. he needed more .. he needed you so, so bad. forest irises watched you as you spread your fingers apart, letting his seed string from them both before promptly placing them on your tongue and sucking off his white essence. a moan fell from your lips at his taste, just as sweet as izuku was himself. if it had even been possible — which it was — izuku's face deepened further, but the lust in his eyes was so palpable now. you giggled as you pulled your fingers out your mouth with an audible 'pop!' . the pro hero's lips opened to say something, but you cut him off by promptly turning around and interlocking your hands with his bigger ones. midoriya gasped as you pushed him back down, your form towering over his, hair framing your face just perfectly as you looked down at him with that lustful glint in your eyes. shivers shocked through his spine and izuku felt his cock twitch, now pressed against your inner thigh as he felt your heat... you needed him just as much as he needed you. " don't worry, we're not done yet... what kind of gentleman would you be if you didn't let your partner cum too, right, deku? "

[bisexualchaosdemon]

So, I was thinking about how Andrew was in the car with Tilda when he wrecked it and how he could have gotten hurt and I just– Can you imagine if Andrew went deaf in one ear or something?

Like, he for sure wouldn't say anything about it. Aaron hates his guts, and he barely knows Nicky. Why would he bother telling either of them? He probably figures it could be temporary at first, but when he starts to think it might be permanent, he still says nothing about it. It's not like they would care, right?

So he would say nothing. People just think he's this asshole that ignores people (and, sure, sometimes he is ignoring them because people be fucking annoying) but half the time he just legitimately doesn't hear them. None of the Foxes notice. The staff don't either, since Andrew always keeps his hearing ear towards them. It causes issues, sure, but it's not like anyone would be able to fix it, so Andrew still stays quiet. But Neil figures it out.

It takes him a while, but he eventually notices that Andrew always sits on a certain side or has to turn to face Neil when he hasn't quite managed to pick up what he said. He starts watching and realises that he does it with the others too, and he's much more likely to completely ignore someone speaking to his left.

One day, when the monsters are hanging out, Neil finally decides to ask:

Neil decided to speak up during a lull in a conversation that Andrew was totally zoned out of. "Drew?"

"Hmm?" It's subtle, but Andrew definitely turned his right side slightly more towards Neil.

"Can you not hear out of your left ear?" Neil asked, and Andrew just blinked at him for a moment.

"Neil, what are you talking about?" Kevin shot him a confused look.

"I'm deaf in my left ear." Andrew said to answer them both.

"What??" Nicky looked startled. "Since when?"

Andrew considered that for a moment. "Since about a week before we met."

"Hold up," Aaron held up a hand. "Are you telling us you have been deaf in one ear since the crash?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't think to maybe say something about it?!"

Andrew shrugged. "I didn't think you would care." It wasn't a jab, it was just the truth.

"Andrew–" Nicky spluttered a little. "Of course we care!"

"Telling you doesn't really make a difference." Andrew said, glossing over his own surprise at how much his family seemed to genuinely care about him. "The hearing loss doesn't just go away because you know about it."

"No," Neil agreed. "But there are things we can do to help."

And they do. They all make small adjustments, simple things that make Andrew's life easier. He and Neil even learn ASL together. It increases the amount Andrew calls them all annoying ten-fold, but he secretly appreciates it.

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Mine (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd discovering that someone has dared to harm what’s his.

Word Count: 1,574

Warnings: possessive!Feyd, objectification, blood, murder, (Feyd is his own psychotic warning in himself to be honest.)

Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is not known for his mercy.

Ask anyone in the universe who has heard even a whisper of House Harkonnen, and they will warn to tread carefully when dealing with them. If you value your life, you wouldn't even get near them.

And everyone knows Feyd-Rautha is one of the best examples of Harkonnen rage and violence, second only to his uncle, the Baron.

Renowned for his physical prowess as a fighter, his insatiable lust for blood and death, and his determination to rise in power and favour, he is a force to be reckoned with.

So why would anyone dare go against him?

He finds himself asking this as he looks upon your form, head bowed and turned slightly away from him. Hiding something.

Gracefully and predatory as a panther, he approaches you slowly.

"My darling.." his voice rasps.

Normally you greet him immediately, recognizing his footfalls from down the hall. You would smile at your na-Baron and ask him how his day went if you did not spend it with him.

You are oddly subdued tonight.

His eyes, always searching, follow a drop which falls from your cheek, landing on the cold concrete floor. Instantly, he is before you, grasping your chin in his strong hand. He tilts your head up, none too gently, and examines your tear-stained face.

"What happened?" His already raspy voice is deeper, darker.

Feyd is no stranger to your tears. In fact, he often revels in their presence, trying all sorts of things to make you cry. But he hasn't done anything to illicit that response today.

When you don't offer an answer right away, his grip tightens, squishing your cheeks together.

"Speak."

His voice holds no room for disobedience. You nod your head and he releases you, stepping back slightly.

You shake slightly as you begin, "I am sorry, na-Baron."

Feyd's anger is growing. You only call him that in public or when you are disturbed.

"Do not apologize. Explain," he can't stop himself from hissing.

"I took a walk today," you begin slowly. "Just to the training grounds to see if you were there. But I didn't see you so I walked back. He stopped me and-"

"'He'?" Feyd echoes.

"Richter," you supply the name of one of the Baron's top generals. "He grabbed me and said I was a no-good whore who should've been disposed of long ago."

Anger swirls with Feyd's chest at this news. Of course, many people have said harsh and often cruel things to you. But you always kept your head high and ignored the jabs. You’re always so strong.

This is different, he can tell.

"What else? You are not one to cry over a mere insult," he brings his hand up to swipe a tear from your soft cheek. You lean into his touch, relishing in its familiarity.

You inhale deeply, "He struck me without warning, na-Baron."

In his oft colourless word, all Feyd now sees is red.

"Where?" His voice is so low it's almost impossible to hear.

You shake as you lower the collar of your dress to reveal a swollen area on your shoulder, "Here."

His dark eyes flicker to yours, bidding you to continue.

You move your hand to your face and gently touch your tearstained cheek, "And here."

Feyd's hand clenches into a fist. He bends closer to examine your face, noting the slight swelling and the way you bow your head. He places his hand on the back of your head, angling your face upwards. A featherlight kiss is applied to your skin so softly you can barely feel it.

Your master and lover rises to his full height, "Rest my darling, I shall return shortly."

He turns to leave but you reach out and grab his arm. Feyd stops and turns to stare at you.

"Please, na-Baron. Don't hurt him."

He scowls at your request, "He has hurt you. Death is his reward."

"He has done nothing that you have not," you say. "I have known worse pain from your own hands.”

Feyd shakes his head and grips your arms, dragging you forward to stand with your bodies touching.

"Only I can touch what's mine. Only I can hurt you how I see fit. You take the pain only I give you." He dips his head close to your ear, breath sending shivers down your spine. “Do you understand?”

"Of course, my lord na-Baron," your voice is breathy.

You are intoxicated by his closeness, the dangerous poise with which he caries himself, the possessiveness of his words and the truth of them.

"Say it."

"I'm yours alone, Feyd."

He crashes his lips onto yours, teeth clashing and lips bruising from the force of it. His hand squeezes your neck as he kisses you. When he finally parts, leaving you breathless, he takes a moment to admire you. His thumb brushes against your lips before he turns once more.

"That swine sealed his fate when he laid hands on what's mine," Feyd growls as he stalks out of the room.

He returns mere minutes later, dragging an incredibly nervous Richter behind him. With a violent shove, he pushes the frightened man to stand before you.

"I heard you disrespected my darling," Feyd points to the floor. "Kneel."

Richter obeys without hesitation. He knows how quick Feyd is to anger… and how few survive it.

"Kiss her shoe."

The man's eyes flicker to yours.

"Now," Feyd places his foot on Richter's back, forcing him down.

Shakily, he presses his lips to your shoe with a mumbled apology. It does nothing to sate Feyd-Rautha's wrath.

With practised ease, Feyd lands a harsh kick to the man's ribs. He repeats the action until the man is a sobbing mess splayed before your feet like an offering.

You regard him coldly, remembering the bite of his hand across your face.

“Please! Please forgive me, my lord!” Richter manages to sob coherent words. Spit and blood dribbles from his mouth pathetically.

“You have insulted me,” Feyd states. “Hurt what’s mine, belittled what’s mine.”

The man’s hand reaches towards your foot, as if you could spare him from the savage that is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

Feyd crushes his hand beneath his shoe, grinding down eliciting a whimper of pain, as he steps before you and above his prey.

He is regal in his violence, eyes shining with possessive obsession.

“Dear one,” he places his hand on your arm before handing you one of his blades. “Help me.”

He smirks as you grip the knife tightly. Your eyes meet his.

Feyd knows you’d do anything he asked of you, just as he knows he’d burn the universe to ashes if you asked him too.

“Of course, my lord,” you say, kneeling by the hurt man. “If it pleases you.”

Feyd’s grin reveals blackened teeth, “You please me, dearest. Now, make him suffer for insulting me and mine.”

The first cut is shallow, uncertain as it travels down the man’s bare arm. Feyd tsks his disapproval.

You adjust your grip and slash again, quickly this time, hitting deep and pointedly. The man screams out and thrashes, but Feyd is upon him in a second. He holds Richter still as you unleash your rage upon him.

Feyd watches you draw blood with a pleasure he’s never experienced before. Relishing in your bared teeth and angry snarls, he commits this to his memory.

He halts your hand as the man ceases his thrashing. With a predatory smile, Feyd guides your hand with his, penetrating the blade deep into the man’s throat.

You watch the man loose his life, as you pant with exertion.

“You have done well, my pet,” Feyd praises, removing the knife from your hand and tossing it aside. He places his hand atop your head.

“Thank you, Feyd.”

He moves his hand down your back and presses his face into your blood stained neck, inhaling deeply. Your hands come around to grasp his shoulders, bringing him close to you. He wraps his strong arms around you, holding you like a lover would.

When he sits up, you lunge forward, capturing his lips with yours. Ignoring the blood and the dead body on the floor, you guide Feyd towards the bed, hands leaving bloody marks on his pale skin.

“Please let me repay you,” you beg, tugging at his shirt. “Allow me to repent.”

“You don’t need to repent, love. But you can keep begging.”

He allows you to disrobe him and press him down onto the soft bedding.

In all honesty, Feyd craves this battle of dominance between you. He could overpower you in an instant, yet the hold you have over him has him bending to your will.

You need only beg and he would take a knee and worship at your feet.

And you know it.

You know he craves this, needs it like an addict. He adores the pain you can lavish upon him, adores the meek demeanour you show to everyone else, adores the side of you that matches his own carnal desires tenfold, adores the way you gladly bleed for him.

He adores you.

And you worship each other in a wicked ritual of blood, sweat, and tears each night.

And he’d never let anyone take this away from him- take you away from him.

He’d kill anyone who dared try.

~~~

[A/n- thanks for reading! Please let me know if you liked it :)]

[mewtwoandme]

I was hoping this would all blow over, but since it's continuing to happen, now with people attacking other artists of the commewnity. I'm putting out my two fucking cents! Cause this whole art/character theft and pointing fingers, who stole what from who bullshit it driving me up the fucking wall!!

Long story short, it started with me and one other blog whose name I won't mention publicly. Despite the horrible light they tried to paint me in, I don't want anyone going to this person and ganging up on them. This person had some serious bitterness towards more "popular" artists and claimed that I've made characters similar to theirs and once used a pose they apparently used before (which was a very common pose, considering it was a reference from the game version of mega Y). Since then, they had desperately tried to conjure up evidence, narrowing down to the most miniscule detail how I've been stealing from them when I hadn't even known their blog existed until I was forcefully thrown into that unnecessary drama with the unhinged call-out posts they've made. With this being said, I'd like to point out that they never came to me or addressed this concern with me in the first place. They had every opportunity to privately DM me if they had suspected I was "stealing," but no, simply because they already made up their mind that I was a thief, that was a good enough reason to lack common fucking sense and decency, making what should have been a private issue public, going on to villainize and dehumanize me. And apparently, it hasn't stopped with me either, cause recently I've been seeing other artists in the community having to deal with this where people are being white knights on high horses, pointing fingers on how one artist's mewtwo looks "the same" if not "totally identical" as another artist's mewtwo. I refuse to believe it's a coincidence. But what makes me disgusted is that since TC's post, apparently it's had the opposite effect on some people and they're hopping on this blame bandwagon like it's some damn media trend!!!

This is NOT okay! Nothing about this kind of behavior is funny! It's upsetting to all of us. We dont need you causing problems where there isn't any, thinking you're doing us a favor! The majority of us are adults for gods sake! We are old enough where we don't need other people coming to us being tattle tails saying this person did this and that. That's what little children do! If you suspect any form of theft, I think I speak for ALL creators in this commewnity that we'd prefer you DM us privately saying something like "Hey, I think this person is copying you, might wanna look into it." And if possible, provide a link to the art in question, for which we would kindly thank you for making us aware and we'll handle it ourselves from there. Just a brief, yet SIMPLE interaction...that's all we ask!!! Don't even come at me with "Well, it's scary attempting to talk to an artist that's well known." Or dare I say ~pOpUlAr~ If you claim that taking the first step to send me a quick DM makes you nervous, yet you have no problem making public call outs in posts or asks, belittling and degrading what could actually be innocent artists doing nothing wrong, literally leaving yourself open to all kinds of comments and opinions from all kinds of people....I'm sorry but your anxiety isn't as bad as you say it is then, if being rude and ignorant in a public post/ask is easier for you. If you come to us, shaming someone else who 9/10 probably isn't doing anything wrong, thinking you'll be in our good graces for doing so, sorry, you're not going to be told, "Good job!" with a pat on the back and given a lollipop! You're just being an asshole.

Quick reality check for everyone who's made it this far before I end this train wreck of a rant:

People can have similar ideas that coincide with one another! There's only so much you can do when a whole community is focused around drawing the same character! We mainly draw mewtwos and mews, you're bound to find a plethora of similar colors, patterns, and designs because of it! Creativity only goes so far when trying to stay true to a character and not stray too far. It's not a crime to take inspiration from other artists' characters, we actually encourage this! It makes us feel good that you liked something we've done and you want to incorporate it into your own designs! It makes us happy that we inspired you! The line is crossed when someone does a literal copy/paste of a character down to the exact detail, and they call it their own original creation. That my friends is what stealing actually is!

[biteyoubiteme]

blind date

Jeongin x fem!reader

synopsis: your friend invites you on a double date only your date doesnt talk to you all night.

warnings: 🔞!!! slight angst, mentions of drinking, protected sex, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 2.8k

an: this was a request! hope I did it justice but I don't think im too good at writing angst and this isn't too fluffy lol sorry anon :p feedback is appreciated! not proofread sorry [m.list]

“he's so cute I promise you won't regret it,” your friend is trying so hard to put on a convincing argument, begging you to go out with her tonight on her date, “I'll pull up his instagram! Please I'm so nervous I can’t go alone,” she pulls out her phone typing away before passing it to you. 

“oh his is cute,” you whisper not wanting to admit you were leaning toward going. but as you scroll through his page you knew you wouldn't pass up a date with him even if it was awkward to be going with your friend and you didn’t know him at all. but one photo showing his sweet smile and little dimple was enough for you to agree because only the world's strongest and heartless individuals could withstand the power of dimples on anyone. 

A few hours later you’re seated at a table, tucked into the back of the bar, picking at your nails. As happy as your friend is with her date, giggling and sharing light touches, you’re sitting in silence with Jeongin. 

the two of you had shared a soft hello, ordered at the bar together, and then fell off talking without even really starting. The booth was shaped in a way that you and Jeongin were just watching your friends fall in love.  

“So are you from here?” you try, your straw in between your fingers and stirring your drink. 

“Not really,” he says, watching his hand on the table, thumb rubbing over a drop of water that slid from the side of his glass. 

you wait for him to elaborate but get nothing in return, you contemplate kicking your friend under the table to ask to cut this all short. She is not nervous anymore and you know the two of them will be going on another date without question. It's when you sip from your empty glass that Chan turns away from your friend and notices the two of you sitting in silence. 

“Do you want a refill?” he asks, hiking his thumb over his shoulder, he looks back to your friend with a dimple-graced smile, “We’ll go get another round yeah?” 

“Okay,” she nods as Chan and Jeongin slip out of the booth and head to the bar. 

“you’re the worst he won't even fucking talk to me!” 

“I'm sorry last time when I met him he seemed so sweet and just your type, I don’t know what happened,” 

“he's looking everywhere but my face, hell I'm sure he hasn't even glanced at my hand,” 

“I'm sorry but just a little longer please, Chan invited us back to his apartment to hang and I don’t want to go alone,” 

“I'm not third-wheeling your hook-up,” 

“No his roommates will be there and some of his other friends and any of their girlfriends, please,” she folds her hands in front of her pouting her lips. “I need you,” 

“you do not, he's all over you, I need you,” she bats her lashes and you know you’ll give in. Even a bad date wouldn't keep you from helping your friend, “you owe me,” 

It was only an hour later when you were in the back of an uber squished between jeongin and your best friend that you were truly regretting saying yes to a blind date in the first place. Jeongin was trying to keep every part of him from touching you, thighs pulled in close to the door, arm slung across his stomach. it was making you angry. both of you had been invited to your friend's date and both of you should have turned it down. if he didn’t want to be here with you he could pretend or try to hold a conversation at the very least. instant silence was worse than faking it, or at least for your ego.

even sitting in their living room with all their friends joking and laughing you couldn't put it aside. jeongin sitting across from you, nodding along with whatever was said to him, avoiding your gaze. 

everyone is playing cards or joking around and you’re trying to join in on the conversation, sipping from a drink your friend brought over to you when you notice jeongin excuse himself from the group. without much thought, you throw the rest of your drink back for encouragement before leaning past your friend to ask Chan where the bathroom is. He points you down the hall Jeongin went and you’re quick to follow. 

The music fades as you move down the hall still leaving room for you to hear the sink faucet on as you lean against the wall opposite the bathroom. crossing your arms to listen to the sound of the water turning off and the lock clicking. 

jeongin is surprised to see you waiting for him, little angry scowl making him avert his eyes from yours. He lowers his head trying to move past you but you shoot your arm out to block him. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” the words spill out before you can stop yourself. jeongin jolts back at the question, finally meeting your gaze. 

“What?”

“Are you hung up on someone else or am I just not pretty enough? fuckable enough?” 

jeongin is stammering trying to blink away his confusion. “I never- I don’t-“ 

“I mean why else would you ignore me all night? and yeah going out with someone you don’t know can be awkward but damn I got dressed up so cute only to be ignored?” 

you place your hands on your hips and jeongin follows the line of your body with his eyes. “I’ve never really um- I’ve just been-“ 

you feel kinda bad as you watch him try to make a sentence, his cheeks turning pink as he fails, “I was worried about this exactly,” he gets out waving around at himself. “and I mean I’ve talked to girls I’ve had a girlfriend before it’s just- it’s been a while and chan was being so nice inviting me along to try and help me but I just-“ he meets your eyes again, “you’re pretty, one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen, gorgeous really and I was already so nervous and then I saw you and if I hadn’t been invited I would have never stood a chance and I didn’t want to embarrass myself,” he huffed a laugh, “but I already did that now,” he’s rushing with his words trying to get everything out so that he says his peace. 

he wants to put this to bed and wallow in his embarrassment in private now. he didn’t want to get his hopes up to see you leave here and never think about him again. he could imagine you giggling with your friend on the car ride home and he didn’t want that so he just didn’t talk. Now he’s opening the door for all of his fears and he won’t even shut up. “and there’s nothing wrong with you I swear. if I could make love to you I would I just didn’t want to be embarrassing,” 

and although you feel a little bit like an ass seeing him so shy it doesn’t stop your giggle at his last statement. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to make love to me, I asked if I was fuckable, there’s kinda a difference,” if jeongins blush could spread any farther it would. “to make love you kinda have to talk to someone; get to know them,” 

“Sorry,” he breathes and it’s then he’s realizing just how close the two of you are standing to each other. “I-I do find you…” jeongins eyes flicker down to your lips watching the way you tuck them between your teeth. 

“fuckable? you can say it but only if you mean it,” 

you watch his throat bob as he swallows, watch as his eyes dip down over your body before he looks back to you, “I do find you fuckable,” the words at the end of a whisper. both of you watching each other waiting for the other to move, to do something. but you realize he probably wouldn’t make the first move, not after everything already. 

lifting a hand you place it over his stomach sliding your hand up his chest as his breathing increases; he doesn’t stop you. jeongin is leaning closer, dipping his head down until his lips are just about to meet yours. “prove it,” you whisper and it’s what sends him over the edge pressing his mouth to yours. 

he leaves the softest kiss before pulling away looking at you for the smallest second before his hand slides behind your neck pulling you back to his lips. 

He kisses you like this is the only time he will have his mouth on you like he wants to consume you. 

your fingers tangle in his shirt and in the hair at the back of his neck not knowing what's come over you. the two of you barely break away for air long enough to think past the feeling of each other. stumbling he presses you into the wall, your back flush against the surface as he wedges himself closer to you, knee between your legs and his hand heavy on your waist you don’t care if only a few minutes ago he was ignoring you like you had the plague, not when he's kissing you like this. 

when he starts to kiss down your neck is when you decide you don’t care how far it goes tonight as long as he keeps touching you. “Take me to your room,” you're whispering into his ear, and he's nodding against you not even stepping away from you as he guides you backward towards his door. you have little time to take in the space when he shuts the door. his space tidy and inviting the only light coming from his desk lamp. His bed is half made with the comforter showing someone had rolled out this morning. in a moment jeongin pulls you with him to the edge of the bed, “we don’t have to do anything,” he mutters as you climb into his lap, his hands attached to your hips. 

you brush his hair back from his face, “Do you wanna stop?” and you find it cute that even just from kissing he's hard pressed against your inner thigh trying to stop himself from guiding your hips against him for friction. 

“no don’t stop,” hands sliding down the curve of your ass pulling you down harder on his erection. “I'm sorry I was so awkward and ignored you,” he kisses down your throat as you grind on him, ”I want to get to know you I-,” he cuts himself off with a moan when you slip your hand between you two to palm him over his jeans. 

“you can ask me out for real after we both get off okay?” 

“you'll say yes?” his breathy question sounds like a plea as you fumble with the button of his jeans. “I didn’t think you would like me,” 

“Well, you would have never known if I did or not unless you looked at me first,” your hand slips into the waistband of his underwear and he buries his head into your neck as he moans against your skin. The warmth of his precum helps slide your hand over his veiny shaft, thumb circling his tip as his hands dig into the fabric of your skirt. “Look at me,” your free hand fisting his hair to tug his head back. “if you make me cum it's a guaranteed yes,” 

His smile is suddenly sinful, an irrefutable dimple on display as he wraps his arm around your waist flipping the two of you over so that you’re on your back against the comforter. He pushes up your skirt, eyes drawn to the outline of your cunt in your lace panties. you sit up on your elbows as he presses his thumb to your clit, your head rolling back at the feeling of his rubbing circles, your knees spreading wider. He hooks his fingers into your panties pulling them to the side, free hand reaching out to gather your wetness. 

jeongin doesn't want to waste any time, reaching over and past you to pull out a condom from the nightstand next to you. you hadn't seen having sex in the cards tonight but watching him slide on the condom all the slick he got from you used to help roll it down was enough to make you ache for him. his pants aren't even fully down as he climbs into bed pressing himself into the cradle of your hips. you reach down to help guide him to your entrance, notching the head of his cock right where you wanted him. 

your head rolls back as jeongin pushes in, the stretch making both of you moan. He pauses only halfway before pulling back out, rubbing along your folds and against your clit before pushing all the way in. Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses down your jaw. He's thrusting so slowly that you arch your hips trying to meet him halfway. “faster I don’t want it slow,” 

he nods, pulling away enough so that he can hook your legs into the crook of his elbows, folding you in half your skirt completely bunched up at your waist as you tug your panties more to the side. laying himself on top of you he slides in deeper than you thought possible feeling him pressed against your cervix. He gives you one last soft kiss before he starts pounding into you without remorse. his eyes trained on your every facial expression, your gummy walls squeezing around him as he bit back curses at the feeling. you know that everyone is just down the hall but it's hard to keep quiet when he's angling his hips just right to hit your gspot, your hand sneaking down to rub at your clit. “Look at how pretty you are taking my cock, now that I have my eyes on you I can’t look away,” you try to bite back your whine, hips sinking as he slams into you. “Now who's not talking?” 

you can feel your orgasm building in your stomach, your toes curling as you roll your head back. “no no look at me when you cum I wanna know I got my second date the moment it happens,”  and the feeling hits you like a truck, jeongins hand coming up to cover your mouth to keep your noises down but his arm moving sends your leg higher and you feel him press further into you. you’re trembling as he lets you ride out your high his slow strokes a mixture of his soon climax and the absolute pleasure of feeling you squeeze around him. The warmth of him filling the condom has you pressing your hand to his mouth to silence him, his arms buckling as he tries to keep himself upright.

when the both of you catch your breath you realize neither of you has removed your hands from the other's mouth, both of your giggles muffled from the realization. both of you move your hands and Jeongin kisses your nose before pulling out of you, your hiss at the sensation has him rubbing his thumb through your folds the slight overstimulation making your knees jerk. “I'm sorry next time i'll try to go a bit slower, maybe i'll have talked enough to have moved past fuckable,” he pulls your panties back into place before you sit up. 

“we will need at least five dates before you get to lovemaking status,” you reach over to pull him back to your lips, “for the meantime fast and hard is perfect,” you can feel his smile as you kiss. 

When both of you pull apart you stand fixing your skirt as he tosses the condom in the trash. “I need to go clean up in the bathroom,” you say, brushing your hair back with your fingers. 

jeongin nods, finding his phone to hand over to you, “first your number,” you’re quick to input it before making your way out into the hallway. both of you smiling like idiots as he closes the door to his room, both of you nearly jumping out of your skin when your friend clears her throat. 

“I was just coming to check to see if you were ready to go,” her grin tells you she knows exactly what happened. 

“I'm just going to the restroom then we can go,” she's standing right in front of the bathroom door as you make your way over. 

“Who's third wheeling who's hook up now?” she whispers as you pass her. 

 your blush is all the way down your neck, you look back over your shoulder, “Make sure to call me okay?” and Jeongins looks at you like you've already got him wrapped around your finger.

[gguk-n]

Replaced (Charles Leclerc x Ferrari Driver!Reader)

Part 1 of Transition

Summary- Being the first and only female driver in Formula One was a huge deal; to be signed by Ferrari was even bigger. Imagine being blind sided by a replacement by Lewis Hamilton in 2025. Even worse; your boyfriend doesn't get it.

Warning- a little angst, established relationship

{Reader's POV}

My world came crashing down when I saw the post on the official Formula One social media. 'Lewis Hamilton to join Ferrari from 2025' How could Fred do this to me? After everything. I've been performing consistently, getting podiums, race wins against a RedBull. What more was I supposed to do? Why wasn't I informed before? My heart was beating against my chest, my eyes burned, my stomach was turning in on it's self. I couldn't help but pace around our house in Monaco. Charles had gone grocery shopping. Did Charles know? Why wouldn't he tell me if he did? How could they announce this when the season hasn't even started? Was I that easily disposable? My phone was blowing up from texts and calls from friends and family. I wanted to cry. Where was Charles when you needed him?

Speak of the devil; he opened the door with a pip in his step and a big smile on his face; he came and hugged me. "I missed you" he mumbled against my neck. My hands hung by my side. I didn't have any feeling left in my limbs. "Did you know?" I stammered, trying to stop the tears. Charles pulled back with confusion on his face. "Know what?" he asked. "That Lewis was replacing me next year" I stated. He was quite; worst of my fears were coming true all together today. "You knew" I breathed out. My voice breaking as I laughed. "My boyfriend knew I was being fired. Can't believe this" I said running a hand through my hair. "How could you do this to me?" I screamed. "Mon bebe, I didn't know for sure. I had heard rumours" He trailed off. "Yet you said nothing, you could've warned me. Maybe...maybe I could've convinced Fred to keep me" I cried. "You don't know what it's like being a woman in Formula One" I shouted with tears running down my face. "Mon Amor" he whispered trying to hug me. I pushed him away; "Don't...Don't you dare touch me. I don't need your fucking sympathy" I stated turning around to start pacing the room. "Everyone's calling and texting me Charles, what am I supposed to tell them? What am I supposed to tell my parents who put everything on the line to make sure I ended up in Formula One" I rambled. "We'll get through this. I'm sure" he began. "You have nothing to get through Charles, while you can still race in red for Ferrari, I've just lost my seat in Formula One. It was difficult getting here as is; now I need to find a way to stay on the track." I exclaimed. "Mon Coeur, we'll find a way. I'm sure other teams are lining up to sign you" he suggested. I laughed dryly, "I almost lost my chance in Formula One until Ferrari signed me a few years ago. I was on my way out; no race wins, no podiums just sheer determination to stick around. And then like the angels sent from above Ferrari signed me. I was over the moon. I won races, I was able to stand on the podium in Ferrari after 4 years in this sport. You know what it meant to me. I've told you everything, I've been the most vulnerable version of myself with you. Yet, you never told me there were talks to replace me" I mourned.

"World's best boyfriend everyone" I taunted while clapping my hands. "Y/N, this is hard for me too" he said trying to come closer. "No Charles, it's hard for me since I've been fired. You are not the one getting axed." I said finally sitting down. Charles walked towards me crouching down to sit on the floor while holding my hands, "We'll find a way. You're so talented anyone would want you. I'm sure" he proposed. I shook my head while I let the tears fall for the first time. I moved my hands up to wipe my tears, "I don't know what more I could've done to make sure that Fred kept me. I don't know what I could've done to stay" I lamented while rubbing my eyes. Charles moved my hands to cup my cheeks; "You can do it" he said while kissing my lips. "I need to regroup." I thought out loud. The cogwheels in my head started to turn. I wasn't letting them kick me out of the sport I gave my whole live to. I was gonna show them who Y/N Y/L/N was. They were gonna miss the day they messed with me. I picked up my phone and called my team to call for a meeting. My manager and mentor was already on it talking to other teams when I told we need to regroup. I could see a couple texts from Fred which I decided to ignore till I was calmer otherwise I would probably commit murder. While on call with my team, I started packing up my stuff. "Where are you going?" Charles asked while following me. "My teams in Maranello, I'm flying today so that we could start planning." I stated. "You can do that on call" he suggested. "No, I can't. I think I'll go mad if I see you right now" I dejectedly stated. "What why?" he questioned. "Charles, you have everything I've always wanted and everything I just lost in a split second. It'll make me hate you and I don't want that. I love you too much to hurt the either of us." I said while zipping up my bag.

"I'll see you when I'm ready, when I know what I'm gonna do" I said while looking at him. I saw tears pool up in his eyes, "Why are you punishing me?" he asked. "I'm not. It's for the best that I get away from here." I commented. "Je t'aime beaucoup" I whispered in Charles's ear while giving him a hug. "Je t'aime aussi" he whispered back pecking my lips. "I'll miss you. Come back soon. You know, I'll always be here." he said with a another peck on the cheek. "I'm yours forever and always" he said while holding my hands. "I know. I just....... need to get over these shitty thoughts." I said while carrying my bag to the door. "I'll drop you to the airport" he suggested. "No Charles, I need to figure this out on my own. Take care" I said. "Why does this feel like you're breaking up with me?" he cried out. "I'm not. I'm always yours but I need to do this. I need to figure some stuff out and I don't want to hurt you along the way." I said while smiling through the tears. "See you on the track, mon tout" I said while walking out of our shared apartment.

[7seas-of-ryy]

Come Back To Me

Author’s Note: Italics are flashbacks! Grumpy x Sunshine! No shenanigans in this one! I'm sorry!

Summary: You had always been the positive one in the IC but one mission can change everything. Set during the war with Hybern!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of torture, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"Hey, I brought you something to eat." Azriel barely whispered as he entered your room.

You looked his way but said nothing, then turned your head back to what you were looking at. The view of the city from your room was always gorgeous, but now it was just something to for you to stare at while you struggled to get through the days.

Disappointment flooded the shadowsinger when you made no move to grab the food.

It had been months of this. Months of him trying to get you back to how you used to be. It seemed you made no improvement but he still tried.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

"Azzzzzz" You called out in a sing-song voice.

"What now?" He grumbled out.

He was trying to do work, frustrated he couldn't find a solution for Rhysand. And being holed up in the library was not helping his mood.

"You have to try this! I picked it up at the bakery and it is delicious!" You told him with pure excitement, not letting his attitude alter your mood.

You never let anyone get in the way of your mood. Happiness seemed to be easy for you. Glass half full was definitely how you viewed life. Azriel envied that.

Without waiting for a reply from the male, you held up the pastry to his mouth.

"I can feed myself." He spoke and gave you a look.

Instead of replying, you put the pastry in his face again. He rolled his eyes yet took a bite of the treat.

It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. His eyes immediately shut and groaned. That was what you loved, seeing these small moments where he wasn’t worried about saving everyone.

You could see the frustration fade from his face, replaced by awe of how amazing the baked good was.

"You can have the rest! I'll get out of your hair so you can get back to work. Oh! I almost forgot, I also got you this coffee, let me know if you need any help!" You told him as you made your way to the exit.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

The spymaster felt useless. It seemed there was nothing he could do for you... until an idea came to him.

He got to the bakery as fast as possible and bought the same pastry that you had bought him all those years ago. He grabbed himself a coffee and made his way back to you.

After knocking on your door to let you know he was coming in, he walked over to you.

"Guess what I got you!" He said with a smile, "Its one of those pastries that you love so much!"

He held it in front of you and you didn't even look his way.

Suddenly his apetite was gone. He didn't think it was possible for his heart to hurt anymore than it currently did. He kissed the top of your head and let you be.

Without another thought, he went to find Rhys.

"Help her. I don't care what you have to do, help her right now." Az pleaded.

"You know I can't do that. She hasn't asked me to and I don't do that without consent." Rhys told him.

"This is all your fault! You should have stopped her! Forbid her from using herself as a distraction! She is a shell of herself because of you!" Az was now shouting, letting his emotions take over.

"Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I wanted to leave her there?" Rhys shouted right back.

He was hurting from all of this too, everyone in the IC was. They had saved you and yet it seemed everyone was mourning the person you once were.

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He could hear you giggling before he saw you. As he entered his room, he saw you standing with your hands behind your back and a giant grin on your face.

Az eyed you suspiciously and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What're you doing in my room?" He questioned and his voice was rougher than he wanted it to be.

"Do you remember your leathers that ripped during the last mission we were on?" You asked the male.

He nodded his head in response, waiting for you to continue.

"I fixed them!" You said, revealing the repaired leathers that had been behind your back.

"I sewed them up and reinforced the seam!" You told him with such excitement.

His eyes softened slightly and he wanted to reach out and hug you but he couldn't let himself. He wouldn't let himself get too close to you, couldn't handle the pain of another loved one getting hurt.

"Thank you," He spoke bluntly then cleared his throat, "What were you laughing at?"

"A few of your shadows and I were just thinking about how you ripped them. I can't believe your leg slipped and you did the splits!" You let out another giggle.

He tried to fight it but a small smile made it's way to his face at your joy.

"Well, thank you again." He spoke quickly before you noticed his grin.

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He looked down at his clothes as he sat next to you in your room, there were small holes and rips all over them.

Normally you repaired them without him asking. He told you that you didn't have to but you assured him you wanted to. Now, he refused to let anyone else fix his clothes.

"Mor refuses to be seen with me in public." Azriel told you with a small laugh.

"She says I look homeless with all these rips in my clothes. But I don't care, I don't trust anyone else to sew my shirts besides you." He spoke again with a smile.

You still stayed completely still, staring at the city below. You felt hollow. It didn't matter that you were still alive, you were dead as far as you were concerned. There was no way to continue life after everything that had happened.

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It was supposed to be simple, meet with Eris, gather information on Hybern and return to the Night Court. The four of you weren't expecting a trap.

As you entered the old building to meet Eris, you could sense something was off. Your suspicions were confirmed when one wrong step set off a trap. Arrows, ash wood arrows shot out from all directions. Luckily you weren't hit by any. Two hit Rhys, one in his shoulder and one in his wing. One hit Feyre in her leg. And four...four hit Azriel; two in his wings, one in his side and one in his leg.

You ran to Az to help him, seeing he had the worst wounds.

"Hey hey, you're ok. I'm going to get you home and we can heal you up, ok?" You told him, giving him a smile that didn't reach your eyes. You forced your tears away, not willing to let him think you were worried.

He loved that smile. He was dying and yet all he could think about was how much your smile meant to him.

As you were trying to break the arrows so you could pull them out of him, you noticed his face pale. And then you heard it, Hybern's soldiers.

The trap must have alerted them and they would be here any minute.

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Rhys had told Az that you drank a few sips of water and ate a tiny bit. As soon as he got the news, he was running to your room. You hadn't responded to anyone at all yet but he seemed to be filled with a new hope.

So, he sat here talking to you and couldn't keep a smile off his face.

"I heard you got some food down, I'm proud of you." He gently offered his words.

He stayed with you for the rest of the day, talking to you about any and everything. He had never spoken so much in his life.

Months passed after that with no more improvements in your condition, it seemed you would never get better. He knew he fell in love with you no matter how hard he tried to stop it, so he fought like hell to hold onto whatever hope he had.

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You dragged Az with all your strength over to Rhys and Feyre. She seemed to be doing ok despite the arrow still sticking out of her thigh. She had pulled the arrows out of Rhys but he was still very hurt.

"Are you ok to winnow?" You asked Rhys.

"I think so, but I won't be able to carry all three of you." He spoke through pained breaths.

"You don't need to. Just get Feyre and Az out of here." You commanded your High Lord.

You knew that if they stayed, you would all be dead. Rhys couldn't carry all of you in his condition, you just hoped he would listen to what you told him to do.

"What? No, how will you get out?" Azriel whispered from the ground.

"I have a plan." You told him.

"You three can't fight, you will die if you stay here. Winnow them out and get Az to a healer." You told Rhys through your mind.

He seemed to be going back and forth in his head, trying to figure out a different way. He gave you a weary look.

"There's no other way. I'll be ok, you have to go now. They're almost here." You added.

The soldiers came running in, ready to attack. You ran right at them, fighting them so they couldn’t get to the other three. You could hear Az screaming to stay as Rhys grabbed him and winnowed out.

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He had been drunk for three days straight at this point. He welcomed the numbness after all the agony he has felt. Once it was night time, he made his way to your room and sat down outside of your door to sleep, just like he did every night in case you needed him.

In the morning, Feyre passed by your door. Az was still asleep and smelled of booze.

She quietly snuck past him and went into your room.

"Hey, I'm not sure what to say or do to help you. But I wanted to let you know how hard Azriel is trying. I mean...you know that but I just want you to realize how much he loves you. How much we all love you. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about what happened, I wish it had been me instead... but you need to know that Azriel is drowning. He is drowning without you. I have never seen him like this and I think we might lose him for good. If you don't have the strength to fight for yourself, please… fight for him." Feyre pleaded with you.

You didn't respond but what she said stuck with you. You had tried everything but it didn't matter, you couldn't find the strength to help yourself. Maybe it would be easier to find strength for the one you love.

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"We just got word. Y/N is alive and we have her location." Rhys spoke quickly.

Azriel shot up from his spot, getting his weapons ready instantly.

As soon as everyone was set, they left to rescue you. After a couple hours, they found you. You were bloody and bruised all over, chained up. Tears welled up in Azriel's eyes but he focused on saving you. He flew you home and you showed Rhys everything.

Rhys saw how you were tortured, starved, and beat every day. He saw how they questioned you about the Night Court and you never gave up anything. You were held captive for three months…he wasn’t sure how you survived.

After they saved you and found out everything you went through, Azriel helped you bathe. You never talked, just nodded or shook your head and you never looked up. He was so grateful you were safe and back with them but he sure did miss your smile.

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It was a beautiful morning, you sat watching the orange and pink sky as the city woke up. There was a knock at the door and Az walked in. He didn’t speak as he set a tray of breakfast foods and coffee down. You didn’t even look over at him but not because you were still checked out. No, this time it was because you couldn’t pull your eyes from the beauty of the sunrise.

You aren’t exactly sure why but you felt something crack inside of you, this was the first time since you were taken that you felt something positive. It was the first time you wanted to live to see these pink and orange hues again.

When Azriel looked over at you he realized there were tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Are you ok?! What’s wrong!?” He panicked, checking everywhere for threats.

“It’s beautiful.” You choked out in between sobs, pointing at the sunrise.

He let out a breath he had been holding in and visibly relaxed. He sat next to you and pulled you close. You leaned into him and he put his arm around you. Neither of you talked, just enjoyed watching the sky come to life in front of you.

He looked down at you after some time had passed and saw the faintest smile on your face. It was barely there but he saw it and that was all that mattered.

“It’s breathtaking.” Azriel stated.

You shook your head in agreement, but what you didn’t know was that he wasn’t talking about the view, he was talking about you.

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“Please please please!” You begged Azriel.

“You woke me up at 4am to watch the sunrise?!” He mumbled with a look of irritation on his face.

“You have to see it! I promise it’ll be worth it!” You continued to beg.

“Fine but I’m not going to be happy about it.” He grunted as he got out of bed, following you to the balcony.

You pulled him down next to you, the pure excitement and adoration you had for something as simple as a sunrise made the spymaster’s heart clench.

The both of you sat and watched the sunrise and you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Isn’t it so beautiful?” You asked him without taking your eyes from the sky.

“It really is.” He responded without taking his eyes from you.

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