#prison break fanfiction

[twohearts-hs]

Defying the Odds - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 105k

Pairings: Michael Scofield x Reader: afab x reader

Synopsis: Y/N was a victim of the mob since the age of fifteen, however, falling in love with the wrong guy and having an argument got her 25 years in prison for murder. She had a plan to get out in faith of her husband until she met Michael Scofield, who, despite his plan, fell in love with her. Now she has the mob and Michael Scofield's escape to worry about. Based on Season 1 & 2 of 'Prison Break'.

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Murder, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Alcohol, Smut, Steamy Scenes etc. you know the deal...

Hope you enjoy :)

Wattpad Link

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Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

[origamiopossums]

Master List Of My Prison Break Fics

Decided to make a list of my PB fics, since the number continues to grow! All are on AO3 and tagged pretty dang thoroughly.

Oneshots:

★ At The Heart of Cell 40 - Sucre/Michael, a fluffy getting together story based in canon. Rated T.

★And I Inherited My Health - A character study of Theodore Bagwell, dwelling on his past while he terrorizes Seth. Based in canon. Rated M.

★ It Just Screams Out Loud - T-Bag/Male OC. Based in my longfic Broken Machines. Exhibitionism, unhealthy devotion, and just all around very toxic stuff going on here. Rated E.

★ Push If You Still Need My Pain - T-Bag/Male OC. Also based in my longfic Broken Machines. Devotion, getting together, edging, unhealthy angst and romance. Rated E.

★ I Think You'd Like It If I Died - T-Bag/Lincoln. Season 5 canon based. Angst. Hate sex. Rated E.

★ Trying To Find A Place Where I Belong - T-Bag/Lincoln. Fluff and getting together. A partner piece to I Think You'd Like It If I Died . Much sweeter and nicer than that fic. Rated T.

Longfics:

★ Broken Machines - WIP. T-Bag/Lincoln/Male OC. Michael/Sara/Mahone. Lots of love for poly ships here. Canon divergence fic that started when I was a teenager wondering how the story would have changed if T had actually had someone who gave a shit about him growing up. Very dark, so mind the tags. Goes through the entire series with changes made due to new characters and dynamics. Really focused on digging into Linc and T as characters. Rated E.

★ Nuclear Blue Coffee Company - WIP. T-Bag/Lincoln/Male OC. Some Michael/Sara focus. Coffee Shop AU gone wrong. Really more of a hitman/assassin AU. Violence abound. Rated E.

★ Chasing Origami Swans - WIP. T-Bag/Lincoln/Male OC. Michael/Sara. An AU where Michael and Lincoln grow up to work for The Company instead of against it. T-Bag becomes a senator. Sara is caught in the middle of everything due to her father. Rated E.

★ I'm Breathing, So I Guess I'm Still Alive - WIP. T-Bag/Male OC. Mostly takes place before the show. About T-Bag slowly learning and growing as he falls in love with a new cellmate.

[zzzugzwanggg]

Adding another drop to the very dry well that is the catalog of Prison Break Smut.

Summary after the break.

With some extra time alone in the house, Michael asks Sara if she’s willing to indulge a fantasy.

—

In their bedroom, they sit on their bed, propped against the headboard, with Sara nestled between his legs. They stare at themselves in the large wooden mirror that’s slotted into the back of their dresser. Usually, the dresser is against the wall to the right of their bed, mirror facing opposite wall, but tonight, despite its percarity, they’ve moved the setup to the foot of their bed, allowing them a clear view of themselves.

“This is weird,” Sara giggles.

[pauea1]

Soooo I started writing a fanfic about Alex and an original female character because I've already read all the available work (which is marvelous btw) and I need more. Will be updating as soon as I can, thanks for reading!

"He turned around to see her. He heard some of his new colleagues at the FBI Field Office in Chicago gushing and gossiping about the new agent in charge and his “bodyguard”. He almost laughed at the thought. Alexandria Jones was more than someone who carried a gun (several, if we are honest) and positioned herself on his left side. After all his years in the Bureau, he had learned only one thing: she was the only person he truly trusted."

[eerycurlew53]

Good Person

*Michael has morality issues*

Michael couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned. It’s hot. Too hot. The sheets are all twisted and constricting him. His pillow is too warm.

Fernando drapes his arm over Michaels body. Gently, he took it away and moved onto his side, yawning. He doesn’t know what time it is, all Michael knows is that it’s late, he’s tired and he can’t sleep.

Fernando wraps his arm around him. Michael takes his arm away, still feeling hot.

Sucre huffs and puts his arm back around him. Michael sighs loudly. “Are you awake?“ he asks quietly. “Yes, it’s a bit hard not to be when you’re tossing and turning like that.” He answers, taking his arm away from Michaels body.

Sucre grabs a hold of his hand and puts it up to his mouth, kissing Michaels knuckles gently. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, I’m fine.” He lies.

“Don’t tell me that bullshit Papi, I know when somethings wrong.” Michael sighs again. “Earlier you called me a good person, I don’t get why.”

“Because you are.” He answers in a very sure of himself tone.

Michael shakes his head, “No, no I’m not. I used and lied to so many people. I got their trust just to betray them. I’ve hurt so many emotionally and physically.”

“Oh.” Fernando says softly, now understanding what’s going on.

“Remember when you told me that you would be prepared to do anything or get Linc out, even if it costs an arm and a leg?” Michael just nods, “does this not apply here?”

“Yes but-“

“You told me you would do anything to get him out and help your family, it applies.”

“But-“

“You’re still a good person whether you believe it or not.” Sucre kisses his knuckles again. “The fact that you’re even worrying about it, proves that you’re not as bad as you think you are.”

Michael moves to rest his head on Fernando’s chest. He closes his eyes and listens to the soothing sound of Sucres heartbeat.

[smellsalittlelikeconspiracy]

I need more prison break fanfictions i’m going insane

[jojo0039]

Fox River - Pilot Part 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or plot of prison break. I only own Jessica, Jason, and my other add-ons. **

Jessica is in her car heading to the station. She has a lot on her mind. Her ex-husband's execution is coming up and she keeps getting calls from his son wanting to talk. Just then her radio comes on.

 "We have a 132 in progress at the Chicago National Savings Bank. All officials closest please respond." Jessica snaps to attention. 

She is only two blocks over. She turns on her lights and races over to the bank. She gets out and spots the officer in charge.

 " What do we got?" she asks showing her badge to the officer. 

"One man armed, he already has the money but hasn't left let. We heard gunshots, but nothing else." the officer tells her.

 "OK go ahead and try to make contact." she says to him grabbing her gun and standing behind the police car.

 " This is the police." the officer says into the speaker. 

"You are completely surrounded. Drop your weapon and come out with your hands on your head!" he speaks loudly. 

Jessica holds her breath and prepares for the worst.

 She sees that the man drops his weapons and heads to the officer.

 "OK follow my lead." she says to him as they step inside.

 She prepares for a fight but is not prepared for who is in front of her.

 She stops dead in her tracks in surprise.

 "Michael?" she asks in shock as she sees her smart and successful ex-brother-in-law standing in front of her. 

She watches as the officer handcuffs him and leads him to the car.

2 days later, she is sitting in the middle aisle of the courtroom where Michael is having his hearing. She sees that her younger sister is representing him. She looks over when the door opens and sees LJ walk in. He quickly spots her and sits down beside her.

 "Hey, how are you holding up?" she whispers to him. 

He just shakes his head and engulfs her in a hug. She puts her arm around him and hugs him to her tightly. She listens on as the hearing starts.

"Rarely for an armed robbery do we hear a plea of no contest." The judge says before looking over to Michael. 

"Are you sure about this Mr. Scofield?" she asks him. 

Jess looks over at him to see what he would say.

 "I'm sure your honor." he says with certainty. 

Jess looks at him in confusion but holds her breath as her sister speaks up.  

"Your honor we would like to recess. My client is not thinking right at the moment." Jessica still gets angry from hearing Veronica's voice.

 LJ looks up at her. 

"What's happening? Why is Uncle Mike not doing anything to defend himself?" he asks her with a look that breaks her heart.

 Poor kid, having to see his father in prison, now his uncle too.

"I don't know kid. I don't know." she whispers to him.

 She hears the judge declare recess and looks up and sees the defeated look on her sister as Michael looks over at the two of them.

 LJ stands up as they start to lead Michael out. 

"Uncle Mike?" LJ pleads as Michael looks over at him. 

"I didn't want you to come." he tells him softly. 

"Go home LJ. Jess make sure he gets home please?" he asks her looking at her. 

"I didn't want you to see this. Neither of you." he says as the bailiff leads him out. 

Jess watches with a heavy heart as they take him back. 

She wraps her arm around LJ and pulls him out of the room. 

"I need you to stay here for a second. Then I'll take you home OK." she says leading him to the waiting room.

 "It's OK Jess. I wanna walk to clear my head." he tells her before giving her another tight hug.

 "It was good to see you. I miss you." he whispers 

She hugs him back.

 "I miss you too kid. Every day." she says back.

 He lets go of her and backs away and heads outside.

Jessica starts walking back to the holding cells.

 She catches up with Veronica and Michael. 

"He is not going to take this well." she hears him say.

 She scoffs before walking around the bailiff to walk beside Veronica.

 "Can you blame him." she says glaring at the both of them. 

"He's your nephew. He's starting to think anyone he attaches himself to is going to wind up in prison." Jess says as Michael goes into the cell. 

"He's not the only one starting to feel that way Michael." Veronica says as the bailiff locks him in.

 "Can you give us a minute please?" Veronica asks him. 

He nods and walks away so he isn't in hearing distance. 

"What are you thinking?" Jess asks him.

 " Ronnie just did everything she could but you just threw that book right into the judge's hands didn't you." Jess states lecturing him.

 Veronica glances at her in shock. It has been a while since Jess defended or complimented her.

 "I know." Michael says looking at both of them.

 "Will you please tell us what is going through your head?" Veronica asks wanting to know why he is making this easy.

 "We've all been over this." Jess rolls her eyes. 

"We have known you our entire lives. You do not have a lying bone in your body." Veronica says to him.

 "And we all know you definitely didn't need the money." Jess inputs..

 "Guys please." Michael pleads. 

"You both have been good to me my whole life. Jess you have been the best sister-in-law a guy can ask for and Veronica you have been an amazing best friend. But you both have to just let me do this please." he tells the both of them.

 Jess just looks at him with tears in her eyes. 

She turns around and walks out without another word to either of them.

[theautismcorner]

Once again begging for more people to watch Prison Break. If you like smart, tattooed, autistic men you will like this show. If you like crime shows then please give it a chance. You like when people punch cops? You’ll like this show. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WATCH THIS SHOW AND WRITE FANFIC ABOUT IT

[enha-stars]

now where are the michael scofield fics

[look-me]

PRISON BREAK (Abby Anderson)

If you’ve ever seen Prison Break, do you remember the scene where Michael shows Lincoln his tattoos for the first time? no imagine that scene… but with Abby.

The heavy, monotonous clang of chains echoed through the church as you were being escorted back to your cell. It was the only time you got a sliver of freedom outside of those suffocating walls. Your eyes wandered aimlessly until they landed on a figure that made your breath hitch.

Standing near the back, leaning casually against the stone wall, was her. Abby.

"Abby?" you called, your voice a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

She stepped forward, her presence commanding even in the dimly lit space. Her gaze locked onto yours with a calm intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I'm getting you out of here," she said plainly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You shook your head, your heart sinking. "It's impossible."

"Not if you designed the place, it isn't," Abby countered, her voice low and sure.

Your jaw tightened, but before you could respond, the guards ushered you away, leaving her words lingering in the air like a promise you couldn't believe.

Later, during working hours…

The locker room was eerily quiet, the hum of distant machinery the only noise breaking the silence. You sat on one of the benches, elbows resting on your knees, staring down at the floor.

"I told you," you said, your voice sharp with restrained anger. "It's impossible, Abby. You shouldn't have done this."

Her boots echoed against the floor as she approached, but you didn't look up.

"No, it's not," she replied, her tone unwavering.

You exhaled harshly, shaking your head. "You've seen the blueprints?"

"Better than that," she said, her voice steady but edged with a smirk. "I've got them on me."

You look up and see that Abby removed off her uniform shirt, revealing her toned upper body.

From her collarbones down to the sharp cut of her V-line, her skin was a canvas of ink. Intricate designs swirled across her chest, arms, and back. There wasn't an inch of space untouched.

Your lips parted in shock, your mind struggling to process the sight in front of you.

"Am I supposed to see something in this mess?" you muttered, your tone a mix of curiosity and irritation.

"Look closer," she said, stepping nearer, her smirk widening.

You squinted, eyes scanning the patterns on her skin. At first, it was overwhelming—a chaotic maze of lines and shapes. But then, like a puzzle falling into place, it clicked. Blueprints. They were blueprints of the prison, etched into her skin.

"No way.." you whispered, the realization hitting you like a freight train.

Abby knelt in front of you, her hand reaching out to grip your jaw. She tilted your head up so your eyes met hers.

"I'm taking you out of here, baby," she murmured, her voice low.

Before you could react, her lips crashed against yours in an aggressive, heated kiss. It was reckless, and raw.

You pulled back, breathless, staring at her with wide eyes. She was insane, reckless, but damn if you didn't feel a glimmer of hope.

Should I recreate the scene where Michael and Sara kiss for the first time? where Michael asks Sara to keep the door open for him?

(ABBY WITH TATTOOS ABBY WITH TATTOOS ABBY WITH TATTOOS)

[artist-kreating-stuff]

Trooper

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Get in, get the loot, get out. There were minimal security guards, but of course Kix went with them. He could be useful if the guards became a problem and even more useful if they decided to get aggressive.

They didn’t count on the fact that there would be prisoners.

It shouldn’t have been all that surprising. The complex they were raiding was notorious for indulging in the underground slave trade and other displays of the physical arts. Kix had already spotted several scandalously dressed show pieces on their way in. It wasn’t that hard to believe that they had a place to store their “goods”.

But he stopped when he heard the sniffles of a youngling.

The sound halted him in his tracks and led his feet in a different direction. He broke away from the crew and headed down a side hallway, his blasters held in front of him the entire time. He passed by many doorways with caution, but none of them were the source of the sniffles. The sound continued to lead him onwards, deeper and deeper into the complex.

He vaguely realized that it would most likely be a while before he could find the others again, but it was the least of his concerns at the moment. Not when a youngling was in the vicinity.

Kix eventually peered around a corner and found the source of the sound: a barred door with an armed Trandoshan standing guard. He couldn’t see anything from his vantage point, but the Trandoshan frequently turned its head to snarl towards whatever was beyond the door. When the sniffles only strengthened, it growled and turned its full body towards the door. “If you don’t do something about that brat, I will!” It roared in annoyance, brandishing its large blaster for emphasis.

“P-please sir!” A weary voice came from behind the door as the sniffles started to transition into full on sobs. “He’s only a child!!”

“Do I look like I care?” The Trandoshan shot back, its blaster raised dangerously higher. “That sound is getting on my nerves! Now shut it up before I put a laser between its eyes!”

Instinct led to Kix pulling the trigger before the Trandoshan could spew another threat or worse, follow through on them. The blast hit it squarely in its chest, causing it to fall backwards and send its blaster skidding across the floor.

Not stunned. Kix’s blasters were never set to stun.

He quickly took the Trandoshan’s place next to the door and peered in. He took in the sight of a small assembly made up of a few colorful Togrutas, a handful of thin-looking Miralans, and a couple of frail Twi’leks. The group of Twi’leks had an older male with creases in his face and lekku, wrapped protectively around a youngling with trembling orange lekku. The tears on the youngling’s face let Kix know that he had been the one crying, though he had gone quiet when Kix had come into view.

It was here that Kix paused. He had acted purely on instinct when he heard the crying, with no plan for going forwards. This was still a large complex with (albeit sparse) security. He’d only killed the first in a long list of obstacles to freedom.

Well, he certainly couldn’t leave them here now. Someone would eventually realize that the Trandoshan hadn’t checked in, which would lead them to the cell and the dead guard, which would most likely lead to the crew getting discovered.

The cell door had a hand scanner next to it. He knelt down and picked up the Trandoshan’s quickly cooling hand, pressing it to the scanner. The technology let out a pleased noise before the door slid open, allowing the small group of prisoners to fully gaze upon their slapstick savior.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now,” Kix told them, slipping into his best soldier voice, a voice he thought that he’d gotten rid of. “Keep calm and follow me. We have a ship waiting outside and can take you wherever you need to go.” Crimson Corshair can chew him out about letting a bunch of ragtag stragglers onto his ship later.

For a moment, the prisoners only stared at him, slack-jawed. Kix was worrying that he was going to have to repeat himself when the older Twi’lek hoisted himself up, using the wall behind him and the youngling next to him for support. On his feet, he hobbled his way over to Kix, the youngling walking next to him for both physical and emotional support, still sniffling.

Once in front of Kix, the Twi’lek just… stood and stared at him. Squinted at him through eyes as if trying to see past his armor and bucket to the man beneath it all. Kix did his best to hold up underneath the probing gaze - he’d undergone worse from clones and generals alike - but he was still squirming on the inside, unused to the attention. What is he looking for?

What does he expect to find?

Then something like recognition flickered in the Twi’lek’s eyes. Did he recognize him? No, he couldn’t… the war was over 50 years ago. This Twi’lek was older than the others, sure, but he couldn’t possibly be that old.

Not old enough to remember the clones.

Then his hand came out from next to his side and stretched towards Kix’s shoulder. This time he did flinch back. He can’t possibly recognize a clone… can he?

The hand fell on his shoulder guard. Kix felt the need to remove it, but something kept him from raising his own hand to do so. The hand was just… there. Not too heavy, not too light, just weighted enough for him to feel its presence. It was… almost comforting.

“Thank you,” The Twi’lek said, a warm smile on his lightly creased face. “Trooper.”

Kix felt his eyes widen behind his visor, tears brimming at the corners. Trooper. So this Twi’lek was old enough to remember the war. He still didn’t know Kix’s name, he couldn’t have. He could have just referred to Kix as “clone” - that was what most people referred to him as nowadays, seeing as he was the only one left.

But no. He referred to Kix as “trooper”.

Not someone that was just one of many faces, created from the DNA of a single man. Not someone who was groomed for battle, thrown into a war with the intent to win regardless of the stakes. Not someone whose main purpose was to die.

A person who stood for peace. A person who fought for justice. A person who bled for freedom. A person who…

Was just that. A person.

The Twi’lek nodded at him, recognition and understanding shining like a beaming star on his face. He looked down at the youngling next to him, who took it as their cue to reach up and grab Kix’s hand that was still clenched around his blaster. “T-thank you, Mister Trooper!” They warbled, their voice hoarse from crying.

The Twi’leks gripped onto each other as they moved out of the cell into the hallway. As they crossed the threshold, the other prisoners followed their lead and began standing up. They moved towards the doorway, towards Kix. As they passed him, they also put their hands on his shoulders with reverent whispers of “Thanks, trooper. Thank you, trooper.”

Kix was as still as one of the statues he had seen in a palace on a distant planet so many years ago. He still had to lead the prisoners to safety, he knew that. He still had to lead them past the guards and out of the complex to the awaiting ship, he knew that. He still had to wait for the crew and bear the brunt of their accusations, blames, and questions, he knew that. He still had to find a way to get the prisoners home, he knew that.

But right now, he was content. He was content even as big fat tears rolled down his cheeks in the privacy of his bucket.

Because for the first time in a long time… he felt as if he’d done his brothers proud.

—————

I don’t know, I was watching Arcane Season 2 and thought of my boy Kix again.

It’s 1:30 in the morning and I’m trying to bust out of some major writer’s block, so… how’d I do?

[twohearts-hs]

Defying The Odds: 1 - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 2.6k

Pairings: Michael Scofield x Reader: afab x reader

Synopsis: Y/N was a victim of the mob since the age of fifteen, however, falling in love with the wrong guy and having an argument got her 25 years in prison for murder. She had a plan to get out in faith of her husband until she met Michael Scofield, who, despite his plan, fell in love with her. Now she has the mob and Michael Scofield's escape to worry about.

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Murder, etc. you know the deal...

A/N: this is a complete series of ~105k words. Based on Season 1 & 2.

Hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

Y/N stepped off the transport bus, eyes squinting against the harsh midday sun. Her eyes scanned the area in front of her. Up, down, left, right and then finally straight ahead. In front of her was the largest prison she had ever come across with in her life. However, she knew one thing which Sebastian warned her about…no one got out of Fox River.

            She glanced up at the towering gates of Fox River Penitentiary – a fortress of steel and stone that swallows hope whole. Taking a deep breath, she glanced down to her cuffed hands and feet before glancing to the guards around her.

            Calculating…she was calculating everything around her.

            She could hear the shouting of prisoners echo faintly from inside, a sharp reminder of what lies ahead. However, as much as she could get over going to prison…she did go to summer camp growing up and both were so similar in her opinion. It was the fact that the judge ruled to send her to a male prison due to her crimes.

            Fucking Sebastian… There was one thing she knew for certain, and it was she was going to get her revenge on him.

            Him and his lack of loyalty to her because she was a woman even though she showed her loyalty since the age of fifteen when she used to run drugs at school for him. Now, he needed to get the Feds off his trail and dropped her name. As well, as an argument.

            Charged with six murders, all first degree and even if she did do it…they deserved it. It was a secret she was going to bring it to the grave – even if she did not do it. She would never tell anyone that the knife that slit the throats of those six men was her. She was loyal to Sebastian and his organisation – had been since fifteen.

            A officer stood by the entrances, arms crossed, is face twisted into a smirk. His beady eyes scanned over her figure which was not much as she was wearing a male prison suit. However, still a shiver ran through her.

            Y/N’s eyes darted from his twisted face to the tag on his uniform – Bellick. Noted, a pervert.

            “Welcome to your new home, sweetheart. You’ll learn real quick that this ain’t no country club. A woman in a men’s prison…can’t wait to see how this unfolds.”

            Y/N doesn’t respond. She holds her chin high, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in her eyes.

            “Not my first rodeo being stuck with a bunch of boys, Officer Bellick,” she responded. “There’s a science to it.”

            “Smart, witty. I read your file, Y/L/N. Did you seduce them before you slit their throat?” he remarked.

            Y/N’s smirk fell, glancing down to the floor then retorting, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

            “Cockiness is going to get you no where.”

            Behind her stood two guards that pushed her forward and through the heavy iron doors. Once inside, Y/N noticed instantly how the air was stifling, a mix of sweat, grime and despair. The clanging of cells doors slamming shut reverberates through the halls, each sound making her stomach knot a little tighter.

            ‘Do not be afraid,’ she kept telling herself. ‘You’re stronger than this.’

            Y/N kept her gaze straight ahead, her heart pounding in her chest as they lead her deeper into the belly of the prison. She came into the main holding area which was three floors of cells and instantly, eyes were on her.

            Inmates began to holler, whistle and remark her gender as she was a woman in a male prison. She was baffled at the fact she was here and probably they were too.

            ‘Stay strong.’

            It was all Sebastian’s fault. Every little thing was Sebastian fault, simply because she was loyal to him.

            Her eyes glanced down to the long-sleeved shirt and dark pants that did not fit her well enough but made do. However, as her eyes focused on the men around her, she could not help but know that every man in her was a criminal.

            And now she was too.

            The guards behind her were talking and she chose to tune it out, but she could not help but listen in when they said, “She won’t last a week.”

            Bellick came around and stood in front of her. “This is your cell. You’re part of gen pop even though your crimes should send you to ad-seg. Don’t go thinkin’ you’re special ‘cause you’re new, a woman or known as one of world’s deadliest assassins. You’re caught, you’re here, therefore you follow my orders. Rules here are simply: stay in line, keep your mouth shut, and do what you’re told. Got it?”

            Y/N nodded. “Yes, boss,” she stated.

            “Your lawyer did well with arguing you to get your own cell in the name of you being a woman and the several outcomes that lead from that. However, you will join the rest of the men in here for everything.”

            She nodded, though her mind was racing. She needed to stay focused, to keep her wits about her if she was going to survive this place. Additionally, she needed to figure out how everything worked if she was going to survive. Everything has a solution, an equation and a situation.

            Every cell was identical. However, hers seemed extra cramped, even though it looked like every other. The steel doors slides open with a loud screech before she was uncuffed and thrown in.

            “Cell 39. Home sweet home. Get in,” Bellick said.

            Y/N stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat as the bars slammed shut behind her with a finality that sends a chill down her spine. The space is claustrophobic – bare walls, a narrow bed, and a toilet in the corner. It was completely different to her penthouse in New York City where she called home since twenty-one.

            She stood in the centre of the cell, eyes scanning every corner. This was it. This was Fox River…her new reality.

            “Hope you enjoy the view. Yards’s in an hour. Try not to piss anyone off before or during then.”

            Y/N simply nodded, mumbled her reply and watched how Bellick and the guards turned and left her standing there, alone. The sound of their footsteps fading as they disapper down the hall. Y/N slowly lowered herself onto the bed, the thin mattress not giving her justice as the weight of prison settling in.

            She was here until Sebastian could get her out. She had faith because she knew, being in a men’s prison for twenty-five years was not in her cards. She pissed Sebastian off and he threw her in jail.

            Her own husband threw her in jail because he cared about the mob over her. Even if she did or did not kill those men.

            Y/N sits on the edge of her bed, trying to remain clam despite the lingering stares from the other inmates. It’s clear that being a woman in a men’s prison makes her an immediate target. The guards may have brought her to her cell, but she was on her own now.

            There would be a hierarchy and naturally it would turn into a patriarchy unless she made this place her bitch.

-

The clanging of metal doors echos through the hallways as a guard stood in front of her doors.

            “Yard time. Try not to get yourself killed,” he said. The guard gave her a half-hearted smirk, but Y/N ignored it, rolling her shoulders back and stepping out. She won’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing fear on her face.

            The alarm went off and her door opened. She watched as inmates walked by and Y/N followed at the tail end. As they followed down the corridor, the murmurs and hollering started. Whispers growing louder, snickers turning into open taunts.

            A inmate in front of her turned around, spotting her following behind him. “Well, well, well…what do we have here? Fox River’s new toy?”

            She rolled her eyes.

            “Watch where you’re going or you might trip,” she responded.

            “Oh, she has a mouth. I know better ways-“

            “Mind your damn business,” Y/N barked. “I am not here to make enemies, lovers or friends. Now move on.”

            The guards around her barely react, only nudging her forward. The inmate’s voices swell as they approached the yard doors.

            “Bet she won’t last a day in here,” she heard from beside her.

            “I call dibs,” another one said.

            Y/N simply rolled her eyes.

            The door opens and Y/N stepped out into the yard. It’s crowded with inmates milling about in groups, playing basketball, lifting weights or just lounging around – until they see her. The air seems to shift, every eye on her.

            She scanned the crowd and shook her head, heading to the benches in the corner. As she walked across the open space with her head held high, her footsteps slow and deliberate, refusing to speed up. Y/N scans the yard, already calculating escape routes in her mind if something does go wrong.

            Where was the nearest exit?

            Her eyes circled until she found it. However, the murmurs grow louder, more aggressive.

            As she walked by inmates, she heard remarks. “Hey, sweetheart, you missin’ your girly magazines? Getting your hair done?”

            Y/N’s lip twitched, her fists clenching slightly, but she kept walking. No need to waste words on them.

            When she made it to the bleachers, a man appeared in front of her, blocking her with his greasy smirk, arms out wide like he’s welcoming her. The tension snaps tighter. Everything about him screamed disgusting or even perverted. He was skinny and almost malnourished and then he smirked, and a shiver went through her.

            “Look what we got here���Fox River’s newest little plaything all ready for someone to play with. Must be my lucky day.”

            His words hang in the air like poison. She rose a brow, stopped herself from saying a remark and then locked her gaze on this man, who was unflinching. Her eyes were cold, assessing. She could not afford to show weakness, but she knew exactly what to say.

            “Funny, I didn’t take you for the type to run is mouth without backup. I guess I was wrong.”

            The yard falls into a tense silence, a ripple of surprise at her response. The man’s smirk falters for a second before returning with even more malice.

            “Oh, sweetheart, you’ll find out soon enough. Ain’t nobody here to help you. Not like the women’s wing where it’s all about girl power, is it? You’re the prey here and we are the predators. Now,” he came closer, “you’re a pretty thing and someone like you needs protection in a place like this. T-Bag is the name-“

            “I think I will be quite alright,” Y/N said, getting up from the bleachers but he cut her off.

            “Girl, you’re on my side of town and I do not take no as a answer.”

            “Obviously then you’re a rapist,” she whispered to herself.

            However, he heard that. “What was that, girl?” he said lowly. “Speak louder and to my face or don’t speak at all.”

            Suddenly, a figure stepped out of the crowd that was beginning. He moved quietly but with purpose, standing in front of T-Bag, his back to Y/N.

            “Walk away, T-Bag,” he said lowly.

            T-Bag sneered, but there was something in this man’s eyes when he turned around to look at Y/N with a solemn look. He had kind eyes, she recognised, which was rare in this world, let alone in a prison.

            “Now go,” the man said.

            “Fine,” T-Bag stated with passion, “but we’ll see how long she lasts on her own. This is not a place where you fly solo especially if you’re a woman.”

            As T-Bag disappears into the crowd, the man with the buzzed head and sharp features turned to Y/N, his expression calm but concerned.

            “You ok?” he asked walking over to her and sitting next to her.

            Y/N pushed herself away from him. “I don’t need rescuing.”

            His eyes widened slightly, surprised by the intensity in her voice. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

            “I wasn’t trying to-“

            “-I can handle myself.” Her tone was firm, but there was something in her eyes – a flicker of vulnerability she can not quite hide. She was strong, yes, but she was also exhausted. The constant weight of being in a place where she was always the target is heavier than she lets on.

            This man does not push, he just nods.

            “I know. But it doesn’t hurt to have someone watching your back.”

            “The last time I had someone looking out for me, they made sure I got in here,” she quipped. Their eyes met, the distance between them a half metre, but enough to hear one another. She studied him like she was trying to figure him out. There’s no threat in his eyes, no ulterior motive, Just quiet understanding.

            “Betrayal hurts especially from someone you love,” he responded.

            “What do you want from me? Mock me, a conversation with me?”

            He shook his head, leaning in slightly, his voice low so only she could hear. “Nothing. Just…be careful. This place has a way of testing you in ways you don’t expect.”

            For the first time. Y/N’s anger softened, just a fraction. There’s something about him – calculated, calm, but with an undercurrent of sincerity that makes her feel…safer than she had since she arrived.

            “Y/N,” she said, putting her hand out. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

            His smile came up lightly as he took her hand. “Michael Scofield.”

            She nodded, not saying anything at first, but simply processing.

            “Michael, I don’t need you to fight my battles,” she told him. Michael tilted his head, offering a small smile, more an acknowledgment than anything else.

            “I believe you.”

            Y/N glanced at him, surprised by his response. Most men would’ve pushed, tried to prove their strength or dominance. But not him.

            Y/N had studied men for the longest time. She knew how they acted, moved, whispered, purred and what motivated them. They were predictable and easy to read, but him…this man in front her. He was not open book rather he was a locked library.

            She exhales slowly, feeling the weight of prison and its dangers pressing in on her again.

            “Thanks,” she whispered, then glancing up from looking at her feet, “for stepping in. But next time, don’t. I don’t need a man to fight my battles when I am completely able to fight my own.”

            Michael nodded, his expression respectful, as if he was already learned to read her boundaries.

            “Understood.”

            Y/N finally cracked the tiniest of smiles, something she had not done in days. “You’re different, aren’t you?’

            Michael just shrugs, his eyes full of quiet understanding. “Just trying to survive. Same as you.”

            Y/N nodded. “Then can I propose we survive this together then? Because you Michael Scofield…are a different type of man and I know men quite well.”

            He nodded. “Deal.”

-

I hope you enjoyed! I had so much fun writing this.

Let me know your thoughts, opinions and comments! :)

Lots of love,

Ava <3

-

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@enha-stars

[cringe-y-gumi]

You know how those random fun facts about historical figures seem? Like, "Did you know that this guy likes sucking his thumb?" Yeah

That and a modern AU where Dream and Techno's descendants are friends and one of them came across a video saying "Fun fact: Did you know that the infamous speed runner and tyrant feared by many in Java era, Dream, apparently likes to take off his pants in front of others showing off his back?" And Techno's descendant would be like, "Lol, Isn't that your ancestor?"

Both of them are unaware of their lineage tho so Dream's descendant would be like: "He's literally not. He can't be." (He refused to be his descendant just because of that). Dream's descendant, which now carries the last name "Wastaek," knows that their family is native in the mainland— which used to be controlled and ruled by Dream as much as they knew. Even so, he doesn't believe they could be in the same lineage since Dream has no official last name (tbh most of them in that era). And Techno's descendant would say, "You don't know that a hundred percent."

Then they'll have a stupid argument about their "ancestors" unbeknownst to them, a reincarnated Techno, with all of his memories, was listening and thinking to himself: "Lol Dream, they got you there..." He can't help but wonder if Dream was also reincarnated somewhere and if they'll ever meet in this lifetime.

[zzzugzwanggg]

To the one person who liked this post, this is for you <3

Really really want to write a fic where Michael Scofield washes Sara’s hair

[jocollins]

I need new people to follow.

Looked through my follows and understood that most haven't been active for years (like 11, 10, 6) wow

[pauea1]

Chapter 2 up!!

Chapter two of my Alex Mahone fan fic is up! Thanks for reading, I love this small fandom so much!