#realised it was actually a year and a half ago i did my second read also

[alexhatessupermarketcola]

I just finished the devil and the deep blue sea for the third time and enjoyed every second.

....what do I do with myself now 😱😂

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (8/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, smut, the angst, broad description of suicide attempt (blood), forbidden relationship, half-manipulation, imprisonment, mention of murder, kind of toxic behaviour, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She knew that she was paying for her naivety and stupidity, for not listening to Daemon and her premonition. She wasn't even able to fully blame her uncle for what had happened, because even though he was the one who had imprisoned her, she had thrown herself into his arms herself.

She let him thrust into her body, she let him fill herself with his warm seed, thinking that perhaps there was a way for them, no matter how twisty and difficult.

Lying in his room on his bed, pretending she didn't see his pleading, desperate looks in her direction, she had plenty of time to think about herself and her life.

She realised that everything she was doing, her naivety, her desire to help him stemmed from the belief that if it was possible to fix him, to set him on the right path, to free him from this sullen, dark fate, there was also hope for her.

The hope that one day there would come a moment in her life when she would feel peace.

Meanwhile, instead of peace, something else filled her.

Emptiness.

She felt nothing when it turned out that he had taken her phone, when he locked his room door when he left, when he spoke to her or asked her something.

She pretended that all this wasn't happening, that she was actually on the beach, gazing out at the endless sea, listening to its sound.

She couldn't bear the sight of him, the smell of him, his touch, and everything she had dreamed of and held dear became, in her eyes, foreign and hated: hearing him, she felt as if a stranger, with whom she wanted nothing to do, was speaking to her.

She did not want his explanations.

His apology.

She felt nothing, experienced nothing, needed nothing.

She didn't even feel the need to go home: even if she were free again, it wouldn't change anything.

Her uncle had broken something in her and they both knew it.

Her heart trembled in sympathy and grief only at the sight of Helaena: his sister had been patient, warm and affectionate caretaker towards her. They did not, however, usually exchange even a word.

There was no need: she knew that Helaena was a hostage and prisoner of her family as much as she was, and that there was nothing she could do to help her.

"I'm worried about Aemond." She said one time, handing her a towel in the bathroom.

She could have covered herself with a curtain in the bath, but Helaena needed to be in the room with her.

They wanted to be sure she wouldn't hurt herself.

She looked at her and put on the T-shirt she got from her that served as her pyjamas.

She didn't answer.

She didn't know what.

Helaena looked at her fingers, playing with them in a nervous gesture exactly as her brothers had done, all probably inheriting it from their mother.

"I caught him browsing your Instagram account one evening, couple of months ago. He was sitting in the living room with a drink and thought he was alone. He was about to do something with our grandfather. He didn't hear me come downstairs and freaked out. He turned off his app as soon as he saw me."

She looked at her in disbelief, feeling a squeeze in her heart, discomfort, pain and heat ripple through her body at the thought that, contrary to what she thought, he hadn't forgotten her at all.

"I tried to help him and he took advantage of me. Forgive me, but I am no longer able to sympathise with him." She whispered, picking up her things from the floor. His sister swallowed hard, looking up at her.

"Since that night. Since our father died. Since he saw you. For a moment, something changed in him. He seemed content. Calmer than usual. He told me he was thinking of going to university part-time. I didn't know you were the one helping him with that." She muttered, stepping closer to her, looking somewhere to the side, as if distracted.

"You can't save someone who doesn't want it." She said in a trembling voice, wondering what she wanted from her, how could she think that after what he had done to her she would care about his decisions and what he chose to do.

He had mocked her, objectified her, humiliated her.

He left her with nothing, stripped her of all virtues and values.

"Our grandfather knows when to act like part of the family and when to act like a ruler. He does this to each of us. He knows our weaknesses. Our unfulfilled desires, our flaws, our complexes. He knows who among us is the most miserable, the most vulnerable. The most weak." She said, avoiding eye contact with her, looking around the room, tense.

She pressed her clothes to her chest, feeling the squeeze in her throat at her words, the sympathy and pain that showed she was no different from him.

They both were weak.

They always were, even then, during that summer.

They were sad, hopeless and small children, finding each other in the end, comforting one another with their presence.

"I can't help him anymore. He's made his decision and I'm here. I don't think there's anything more we can say to each other."

That night she couldn't sleep: he hadn't been back for a long time wherever he was, and the thought that perhaps someone had shot him or taken revenge on him didn't fill her with peace.

Despite everything she felt, she didn't want him to die.

She shuddered when she heard footsteps in the corridor and then the sound of a key turning in the lock. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep when he came inside, closing the door behind him.

She heard him pull off his jacket and shoes, trying not to make any noise, and then he came towards her, leaning over her with a quiet sigh. She swallowed hard when he gently covered her with the duvet, when his wide, warm hand combed through her hair as if she were a small child.

She was furious with herself that she felt tears under her eyelids as soon as he pulled away and lay down on the mattress, when she heard him say hello to Vhagar, who licked his fingers.

She was furious that some part of her still craved his closeness, that his touch made her feel safe, just as it had then, that summer.

The only joy in her days filled with shame and grief was Vhagar.

Her uncle's dog was gigantic and had big brown eyes. Vhagar was as distrustful as he was and did not approach her at first, but watched her closely as she lay on the floor, and when she held out her hand to her, she sniffed the air, wanting to smell her with her large, black, wet nose.

Like him, Vhagar required patience and understanding, respecting her barriers.

Eventually, however, she allowed herself to be touched, sealing her acceptance with a long, sticky lick from which her fingers were all moist. Being with her and touching her soft, warm fur was a form of therapy for her: she couldn't find comfort in his arms even though she craved it, and she knew he was dying to touch her.

However, if she broke down and let him, she would lose the remnants of her self-respect and her own dignity.

Although she tried to reject these thoughts and feelings that filled her, what she had repressed during the day came back to her in her dream: she saw her uncle lying in a pool of blood, his face cut, his eyes gouged out in revenge for what he had done to one of the men who had not paid him on time.

The scream she let out seemed inhuman to her and she didn't even know she had really let it out. She pulled herself up on the bed, terrified by the darkness and the fact that she did not recognise the room she was in when she heard something move on the floor.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" She heard his voice and looked at him with big eyes, whooping with her own tears, sobbing loudly as she felt relieved despite everything he had done to her.

He was alive.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He asked, looking at her with a sincere worry from which she felt pain in her heart, thinking in disbelief that she wanted to throw herself into his arms and cuddle up to him.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered soothingly, rising slowly, approaching her uncertainly. She lifted her shoulders up, simultaneously wanting and not wanting this.

She felt a pleasant shiver as he sat down beside her, his hand gently touching her shoulder.

She swallowed hard when he dared to put his other hand on her head and sank his face into her neck – she felt like bursting into sobs feeling his familiar scent, his familiar warmth, her body relaxing involuntarily into his embrace against her will.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –" He assured her, only to sink his face into the top of her head a moment later, stroking her shuddering body soothingly with his hands.

You've already done it, she thought with pain.

The person before whom she was most vulnerable, whom she allowed to touch her naked body, whom she allowed to be deep inside her, as intimate as possible.

She thought, feeling her body convulsing as she tried to calm her breathing, that she had nothing left.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out, surprising herself with these words that came straight from her heart.

She heard him draw in the air loudly, terrified, rocking her in his embrace as if she were a small child.

"– no – don’t say that – it won’t take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He whispered as if he thought that was what she meant.

That she just wanted to go home.

"– you broke my heart –" She said, wanting him to understand that her going back anywhere wouldn't change anything, because what he had done to her no place could fix.

She didn't really care now where she was or what was happening to her.

She felt regret towards herself that when she heard him burst out crying she involuntarily felt sympathy for him.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, his warm, full lips starting to place wet, lingering, desperate kisses on her face, wanting to somehow soften her words and what she had said, but she felt worse and worse.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

Lie.

"– I don't believe you –"

She heard him wail quietly, hugging her as tightly as if he wanted to break her bones, melt into one with her so she could never escape him again.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, and she clenched her eyes shut, herself feeling the hot tears one by one begin to run down her face.

They were just empty words that couldn't change anything.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She whined into his neck, finally saying what she had been feeling all this time, the regret, the disappointment, the terror and the emptiness she felt deep inside her flowed out of her mouth.

She was sure he was going to start denying it, saying he would make it up to her, but instead she heard his mournful cry, his kisses on her face, neck and shoulders loud, sticky, ravenous, his breath heavy and raspy, making her feel a pleasant tickle between her thighs in spite of herself.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out and she snuggled into him harder, wanting to hurt and comfort him at the same time, to reject and accept him deep inside her.

Some part of her wanted to believe him again.

She gasped, surprised to feel her nipples grow hard, to feel her warm cunt pulsate around nothing as his broad hand slid slowly under her t-shirt, trailing down her back while his swollen lips did not pull away from her bare skin.

"– I love you –" He assured her, the strokes of his hand, his wet, hot lips increasingly ambiguous and intimate, the tips of his fingers trailing down her spine, making a wonderful shiver run through her again and again, from which she finally moaned.

"– you hurt me –" She mumbled out regretfully through her tears, inhaling his scent, hating him for how good she felt with him, hating him for how much she wanted him, hating him for needing him so badly and him taking advantage of her.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, pressing her tighter to him, her lips in some subconscious, involuntary reflex brushing against his neck, tasting his sweat and his perfume.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He exhaled, their fingers clenching tighter on their bodies, proving where this was going, how much they both needed comfort, reassurance, a moment of pleasure and warmth, what only they could give each other.

She shuddered and froze when she felt his hand slide down her back to her bare buttocks, digging his fingers into them, feeling the cold sweat on her neck.

She pushed him away, panting heavily, and quickly moved away, pressing her back against the cold wall. She looked at him with big eyes, feeling her whole body quiver with desire, her cunt pulsing greedily, dripping all over from her wetness.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out, shaking her head, horrified at the effect he had on her, how easily he manipulated her.

She was a stupid idiot, exactly as Daemon had said.

Her uncle shook his head, moving closer to her, in some pathetic, helpless gesture grabbing her calves, kissing her knees as if he wanted to fall to her feet.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She asked with anger, thinking that surely that was the case, that this was just part of their plan.

She couldn't let them down, she couldn't make a fool of herself once again.

Her uncle looked at her with eyes red from tears, his face all swollen, his lips parted in a heavy, raspy breaths.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered and she shook her head, thinking she couldn't believe him.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out, herself no longer knowing what she was feeling or thinking.

She turned her face to the wall and hugged its cold structure as if she wanted to melt into it, the space between her thighs hot and wet, throbbing from the tension that filled her entire lower abdomen.

She pursed her lips into a thin line when she felt him clamp his hand on her waist, his face pressed against her back.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined pleadingly, falling into hysteria, bursting out in such a loud, pitiful, almost childish cry that she began to weep herself, not knowing what to do, where to go to escape the chaos of feelings and thoughts that were filling her head.

Although she wanted to, she couldn't push him away after those words and she let him fall asleep cuddled into her back.

The next day, lying down, staring at the wall, waiting for him to wake up, she looked between her and the bed and saw something shiny on the floor. She slipped her hand into the gap and when she caught it, she thought with a heavy beating heart that it was the blade to a small bookbinding knife.

She swallowed loudly as she grasped it in her fingers and slowly raised her hand, slipping it into her towel that lay on the chair just above her head.

He had told her that day that her mother would try to reach an agreement with them if she could see her.

She thought with disgust and shame that her mother and Daemon would have to sacrifice what was rightfully theirs because she had been stupid and naive, because she had disobeyed them, because she had shown thoughtlessness.

She decided that she would make it right.

That she would do something that would destroy Otto's entire plan and allow Daemon to keep what he wanted.

She thought that perhaps her step-father would understand that she had done this for him.

That this was her apology.

"I'd like to take a bath."

True to her assumption, her uncle was careful and removed the key from the bathroom lock, informing her that she had ten minutes, however, to her relief, he did not check her towel.

When he closed the door she quickly turned the water on, not wanting him to get suspicious, and slid the blade out of the cloth, turning it in her fingers.

This was her escape route.

Her final word.

She stepped into the tub, sinking into the pleasantly warm, crystal clear water and leaned her back against the backrest, breathing loudly, feeling fear, uncertainty and doubt.

She didn't want this, but there was no other choice.

Even if she went home, she would not escape the prison that was her heart.

She was unable to stop loving him.

This thought made her sink the blade into the skin of her wrist.

She hissed, feeling with tears in her eyes how unpleasant, rough and stinging this feeling was, uncomfortable, exactly as her feelings towards her uncle.

She smiled under her breath thinking that he would be the one to find her.

She wondered if she would break his heart in this way, just as he had broken hers.

When she did the same with her other wrist she dropped the blade on the tiles and leaned her head back, lying in peaceful silence, hearing only the hum of water around her.

She closed her eyes, imagining that she was by the sea again, with him, listening as he told her about how old and valuable the coin they had found was.

Tears ran down her cheeks at the thought that in a moment she would join that boy.

The man standing outside the door had killed him long ago.

And then she fell asleep, and though she heard someone's voice, felt someone touch her, felt someone calling her name, she could not open her eyes, feeling calm and light.

Free.

She hissed, feeling an unpleasant burning sensation in her wrists and twisted on the bed, opening her eyelids with difficulty. She felt the sun shining on her face, the familiar smell of disinfectants all around her, the quiet beeping of the machines controlling her heart rate just above her head.

She looked to the side and saw the figure of Daemon sitting in a chair, looking at her exactly as he had then, when her uncle had brought her home from Heavenly Beach.

She felt her body begin to quiver in shame and fear: even though she tried, she couldn't find the words to express what she was feeling, and although she had never called him that, at that moment something snapped inside her.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, Dad – I believed him – I was only supposed to bring him the books, nothing more – I was trying to fix it –" She mumbled out, bursting into sobs, struggling to catch air between the successive sentences that left her mouth.

Something in her step-father's gaze changed – he swallowed hard and twisted in his seat, clenching his hands into fists.

It seemed to her that some part of him sympathised with her.

"– I know –"

Those words, though short and dispassionate, meant more to her than he could have imagined.

Although he was furious with her, and he had every right to be, he understood why she did what she did and that she believed it would help his cause.

"– you did it for me – didn't you? –" He asked, looking at her wrists.

She nodded, trying to catch her breath, feeling that her cheeks and eyelids were all swollen with tears of sadness, grief and pain.

He lowered his gaze and sighed heavily, turning his head to the side, looking towards the window.

"– don't ever do it again – your mother almost died of despair –" He said, and she nodded again, letting his large hand close over her fingers.

"– you are a naive, stupid child – but mine – you will be under my full control from now on – you will not go anywhere without me, your mother or my bodyguards – do you understand? –" He asked and she nodded, feeling shame.

He was right.

She was a naive, stupid child who someone had to watch over to make sure she didn't mess up again.

Despite her initial horror that everyone would hate her, she was welcomed home with relief and joy: she knew that to some extent this was influenced by what she had done, but at least it made everyone understand that she regretted what had happened.

"– that son of a bitch – I swear I'll kill him with my own hands –" Jace said to her, embracing her tenderly as if she were a teddy bear.

She felt pain and discomfort at the thought that some part of her wanted to ask him not to hurt her uncle.

She wondered how much of this was due to how he was manipulating her and how much was due to how she really felt about him.

She knew that Daemon, Jace and their men had declared war on Otto: every day someone died in a shootout, and she prayed she wouldn't hear his name overhearing the conversations of her father's bodyguards.

"That boy with one eye sold Larys Strong a bullet in the head. His grandfather's partner! They say he just walked into his office and shot him. He must have pissed him off pretty good." He said, and she swallowed hard, feeling her heart stand up in her throat with terror.

She reached into the pocket of her shorts, pulling out the note he'd left her at the hospital and read its contents for the hundredth time.

I will always watch over you.

A cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought that his confession was literal.

That he had killed him for her.

Do you know who did this?

I can take care of it.

For your comfort.

Those were his words.

I can take care of it for your comfort.

She hid her face in her hands at the thought of him sinking even deeper into darkness for her, thinking that in this way he would atone for what he had done.

Daemon agreed to let her return to the University on the condition that one of his bodyguards would wait in the car the entire time she was in the building, just to make sure she didn't leave or run away.

She agreed to this out of desperation, feeling that she was descending into madness sitting at home, constantly dreaming about him.

About someone bringing them news that he was dead.

Along with the end of the semester, the entry exams for all those who wanted to get into university were also approaching.

She tried not to think about whether he was studying, whether he was going to come and try, recognising that it was just his momentary whim, an attempt to make her believe that he was capable of change.

And then she'd see his silhouette in her memory, bent over a thick tome, read through her textbooks.

She hated herself for sympathising with him.

She hated herself for wanting him to succeed.

Since then neither of them had written or spoken to each other.

Even so, the day she knew the exams were to take place had her walking around in a state of complete shock and panic all day.

"Are you alright? I'm worried about you. You look terrified." Robb said, snapping her out of her reverie.

They had been together for a few months during the past year, as they had become very close on a excavations where they had been the professor's assistants together.

His ironic sense of humour, the glint in his eye and his cheeky smile made her feel a pleasant warmth in her stomach, and when he kissed her one evening she thought there was hope for her.

That she could live a normal life.

She spent her first time with him because she trusted him and knew he was experienced. He was tender and patient with her, excited by her clearly lack of skill in this aspect, by the fact that he could lead her by the hand, show her what desire and fulfilment were.

She was grateful to him for making the loss of her virginity only a little painful for her, and beyond that she felt only pleasure.

Nevertheless, she despaired that the orgasms she experienced with him could not compare to what she felt when she herself sank her hand into her leaking womanhood, imagining that it was her uncle's fingers that was greedily invading her slit.

"– go on – after all, that's what you want – that's why you came to me, isn't it? – for your uncle to take care of you – am I wrong? –"

She had to snuggle her face into the pillow so that her siblings wouldn't hear her moan of delight and relief, while wonderful waves of warmth and pleasure shook her body, causing her to fall into a peaceful, pleasant sleep, still holding her hand between her thighs.

However, it was enough for her to wake up in the morning, and remorse, sadness and disappointment in herself made her unable to breathe or eat.

And then she saw pictures of Robb with the women he had embraced at the club, and while part of her felt pain, part of her also felt relief.

When she broke up with him, he tried to explain to her that nothing had happened, that he had forgotten himself under the influence of alcohol but that he had never, never cheated on her because he had not kissed or had sex with any of them.

She then thought sadly that she could tell him exactly the same thing, however she felt that they were both cheating on each other in some way, just not physically.

She decided that it would be better if they remained friends, and although it was hard for him to bear at first, he seemed to eventually get used to the thought.

Neither of them resented each other.

She lowered her gaze at the thought, embarrassed, not knowing what to answer him, not being able to confess the truth after all.

She was, however, tired of lying.

"My friend was supposed to take his entry exams today. But I don't know if he will. He hurt me and I'm afraid to go there." She said, looking across the corridor to the part in the building where the big auditorium was located.

"Do you want me to go with you?" He suggested, and for some unknown reason she felt grateful to him for the offer.

She nodded, and he smiled at her in a way that she remembered vividly from the moments when she thought they were happy.

When they got there, she saw that the door to the room was open, probably because of how stuffy it was in there.

"Can you see him?" Robb whispered as she leaned out, she could, however, only see the first three rows of pews and did not recognise him among any of the people.

"No. But I can't see much." She muttered.

"Well, tough. We'll wait." He sighed, leaning back against the windowsill with his arms folded.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He asked after a moment with hesitation in his voice.

"No." She mumbled, looking at her fingers in shame. Robb raised his eyebrows, stroking his chin as if something in her words comforted him.

"Oh. I see." He said, and she swallowed hard, looking away, feeling that even though she had told the truth she felt like she had lied.

The people who had finished writing the exam started to leave one by one, making her lose faith with each passing minute that he had done it at all, thinking in the back of her mind that he was sitting with his grandfather and brother right now for sure, discussing how to destroy her step-father.

He didn't have time to play University now, she thought sadly, and froze when she saw him in the doorway.

His healthy eye grew wide at the sight of her as if he had seen a ghost and he stopped in mid-motion, pale, glancing at her, then at Robb.

"Is that him?" He asked curiously, extending his hand to him. "Robb, it's a pleasure. I hope you become a student soon too."

She swallowed hard seeing that his uncle's face expressed tension and coldness, a sign that something bad was about to happen.

His gaze full of impatience fell on her again while Robb's hand continued to hang in the air, showing her that if she didn't intervene, he would speak up and she wouldn't like that.

"Thank you, Robb. Will you leave us alone?" She asked in a trembling voice, wanting him to get away from this place as quickly as possible.

Robb blinked, bewildered, looking at her then at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Didn't you hear what she said?" Her uncle snarled in his direction in a way she knew was a warning.

He knew who he was, she realised suddenly with horror.

Then, when Helaena caught him looking at her Instagram account, it wasn't the first time he'd done it.

He followed her social media.

That's why he knew where he should come even though she hadn't given him her university address.

"I'm not talking to you, mate." Said Robb in a tone that betrayed that he had lost patience and she had to stand between them to keep her uncle from pushing against him, his jaw clenched in rage.

"That's enough." She said in a shaky voice.

"Aemond is having a hard time. Forgive him. Sometimes he doesn't know how to behave. He won't hurt me. Am I wrong?" She asked softly with a note of mockery in her voice, from which he swallowed loudly and looked away, embarrassed, trying to control himself.

Robb hesitated, but nodded finally and left them alone, glancing at them intently over his shoulder.

"It was a mistake." She said, shaking her head, herself wanting to leave, recognising that she didn't know why she was doing it, why she cared.

"– no – no, wait –" He muttered, grabbing her arm, careful, however, not to cause her pain. His hand wrapped around her waist in a way from which she swallowed hard, his forehead pressed against her temple.

"– are you two together again? –" He asked in a trembling voice, and she involuntarily burst out laughing, ignoring the stares of the other students who were just passing them by.

"– do you want to tell me how you know who I'm dating and when? –" She hissed, looking at him with fury, his gaze hot and pleading, full of feelings she didn't want to see.

"– do you love him? –"

She shook her head, trying to push him away, not wanting to hear it, having no intention of explaining herself to him.

"– I hope you'll pass – let me go – let me go, I said –" She growled, trying to pull away from him, but he closed his hands on her back, hugging his nose to her cheek like a small child seeking refuge, his eyes closed as he spoke his next words.

"– I killed him for you –" He whispered.

She swallowed hard, feeling a powerful, cold shiver run down her spine, her heart starting to pound like mad in her chest making her struggle to take another breath.

He had killed for her.

He had killed a man.

God, was it possible to wash away such a sin?

To carry such a burden.

She shook her head, her brow arching in pain at the thought that she didn't want to hear it.

"– I killed him because he threatened you – because he wanted to hurt you – I want you to be safe –" He gasped tenderly, enclosing her jaw in his hands, placing again and again warm, soft kisses on her cheek as if she were something he longed to cherish, that he adored, that he loved.

A part of her wanted to ask him if he planned to kill himself too, but those cruel words didn't leave her mouth.

When he hugged her she simply closed her eyes and allowed herself to calm down in the tender embrace of his arms, feeling his soft, full lips on her cheek, neck and shoulders, his hands combing through her hair tender, close, familiar, beloved.

"– I'm not pregnant –" She whispered and felt him freeze for a moment. He swallowed hard, placing a lingering, warm kiss on her temple.

"– I know – the doctor told me – we just have to try again –" He said softly, stroking her back comfortingly as if he were a husband who had just assured his wife that they would have a child in the future.

How absurd his words were simultaneously horrified, embarrassed and endeared her.

"– do you hear yourself? – after what you did to me? – after how –" She mumbled out, bursting into sobs, clasping her hands on his back, for some reason seeking help in his embrace.

He was the only person who understood what she was going through.

"– shhh – I'm here, baby –" He hushed her, stroking her hair and her back, his face sinking into her temple, his warm breath enveloping her neck.

She shuddered when she heard her phone ring – they moved away from each other, and when she pulled it out of her backpack it turned out to be Daemon's bodyguard.

"Your class is over, where are you? Is something wrong?"

"– n-no – no, I'm on my way, I was talking to the professor – I'm sorry –" She mumbled out, scared that the man would start looking for her.

"– it's okay – I'll wait where I always do –" He said and hung up while she breathed a sigh of relief.

"– wait a few minutes before I go so they don't see you –" She said indifferently, tucking the phone into her backpack. She felt him wanting to embrace her again, but she pushed him away, shaking her head and avoided him, unable to look at his face.

We just have to try again.

She burst out crying at the thought that some sick part of her wanted this.

"– you said he's not your boyfriend –" She heard Robb's voice behind her, standing at the entrance to the courtyard, looking at her with pain and disbelief.

She swallowed hard at the thought that he was watching them from a distance.

"– I –"

"– I thought we are friends, that we are honest with each other –" He said quickly, combing his hair with his hand in a gesture of impatience, his words making a cold, unpleasant shiver of shame shudder through her body.

He had caught her in the act, and she was like a small, weeping child who was afraid of the consequences.

"– he is not my boyfriend –"

"– are you serious? – you said he hurt you, and you almost let him fuck you in the middle of the corridor – where is your self-respect? –" He hissed and after a moment fell silent, seeing the look in her eyes, the expression on her face, hearing his own words, knowing that his last sentence was a step too far.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry I said that – I didn't –" He muttered, running his hand over his mouth.

He wanted to touch her shoulder, but she moved away from him, shaking her head, not caring that the others were looking at them from the side.

"– is there anything else you want to say? –" She asked, having the feeling that something inside her had broken once and for all, shattered into pieces like a glass vase.

Robb opened his mouth, his cheeks turning scarlet with horror and shame.

She turned tensely, heading for the exit, out of the corner of her eye noticing her uncle's face staring back at her, pale and shocked.

He heard it.

She shook her head letting him know not to follow her and ran towards the car park, thinking about how she wanted to sink to the ground and die.

As she closed the car door behind her, whooping with tears in panic, the man leaned over to look at her face, horrified.

"Are you all right?" He muttered.

"– I didn't pass the fucking exam – can we go now? –" She said with such anger and fury that the bodyguard merely nodded and started the engine, backing the car out onto the road.

She covered her face with her hands, choking and panting, trying to calm down, thinking she deserved it.

Why had she gone there?

Why did she have to see if he had come?

What did it matter?

We just had to try again.

Jesus fucking Christ.

They were both completely mad.

Maybe they had inherited it in their genes, she thought regretfully.

It wasn't until she was home at dinner, feeling Daemon's anxious gaze on her, that she thought uneasily that she had escaped the drowning ship, but had left her uncle and ex-boyfriend far too close. She felt her knee begin to pop up in a nervous reflex under the table at the thought that he might have done something to him.

Out of revenge, out of jealousy, out of whimsy.

I killed him for you.

She thought she would write to him to make sure he was okay.

But he didn't write back.

Unable to stand it, she put a second, new card in her phone, one of the hundreds her brother kept in his drawer to avoid bugging him, and called her uncle, demanding an explanation.

"What did you do to him?" She asked horrified, walking around her room as if in a trance.

"I see you have a new phone number and I have no idea what you're asking."

"Robb, Aemond. He's not writing me back."

She heard him hum on the other end, as if he was pleased with her words and the fact that whatever he had done had forced her to contact him.

"We only talked. His handsome face with brown eyes is unharmed." He said calmly, making her breathe a sigh of relief, still feeling the tension though.

"What were you two talking about?"

"It was our men's business."

"AEMOND."

"That I won't let anyone treat you like that. He doesn't know shit and meddles in matters that aren't his." He said coldly. "I gave him a warning."

For a moment there was a tension-filled silence between them, from which her heart pounded like mad.

She thought it was all some kind of pure madness, that it wasn't really happening.

"– did you threaten him? –"

She heard his loud sigh on the other side and a bark.

Vhagar.

"– I told him to treat you with respect and not to talk to other people about us if he didn't want unpleasantness – no violence, pure persuasion –"

"– manipulation – as in my case –"

"– that is not true –" He protested angrily.

"– LIAR –" She hissed and hung up, throwing her phone on the bed in a gesture full of rage.

She fell back on the bedding, sighing loudly and groaned when she saw that her display had lit up and he had sent her a new message.

She unlocked her phone reluctantly, thinking she had angered him with her words, but saw with surprise that he had sent her a picture of Vhagar.

She felt regret and a sting in her heart at the thought that involuntarily it made her smile.

What he was doing to her was so wrong, so very wrong.

So why did she feel warmth in her heart?

After a while, her phone vibrated again.

She didn't know why she laughed warmly only to burst out crying again a moment later, not understanding why he was the only one who could make her smile, the only one who could make her feel that wonderful warmth in her lower abdomen, the only one who could calm her down.

Why he was the only one she loved.

[natashaslesbian]

Sleepy Bear

Summary: Natasha finds an unusual way to help you sleep

Word Count: 1.1k

Parings (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Warnings: none I believe :))

————

You had no idea how long your girlfriend had been doing this for you. Sleep had never come easy to you, only did you get a rest when your exhaustion would force your body to shut down. Your thoughts leave you restless each night, the anxiety had always been there. Your mom started you in therapy when you were 7, the nightmares should have stopped by then. She tired everything, your mother, each week was a new medication. Your dad on the other hand, he couldn’t have cared less. It was him who marched you into the hospital demanding they scanned your ‘daft brain’ as he put it. There was nothing to be found. Years of therapy only brought the diagnosis of anxiety, much to the disappointment of your father. Dr Grey was a nice lady, but she couldn’t quite solve your problems. You were too young to put your anxiety into words, you just knew it made you too scared to sleep. You stopped therapy after your mom died and your dad refused to pay, you were left to your own devices.

You met Natasha 2 years ago at the coffee shop you work at. She fell head over heels the second she laid her eyes on you, not that she’d ever tell you that. You had your eyes on her too, it took you months to realise that she was purposely going out of her way to visit the shop multiple times a week. It started with lasting looks and then lingering touches when you passed the redhead her iced caramel oat milk latte. Soon you were slipping her extra cookies and then one day she slipped you her number, you never looked back after that day. After a few months you finally let Natasha come over to your apartment, she was horrified at the state you were living in, sleep was the last of your worries. Your dad kicked you out after you told him you were gay, you took what you could and found the cheapest little studio available. The paint was chipped all over, the cooker didn’t work and you were on the verge of eviction. The widow was desperate to move you into the compound, despite your discomfort at the idea. Eventually you agreed to take residence in one of the spare rooms, and surprisingly you settled in straight away. Your life fell back on track after that and you and Natasha had grown closer and stronger than ever, you even shared a room now, Natasha had to move the ring in her bedside draw to Clint’s room.

A slightly sharp corner had you stirring slightly, the assassin quick to flash you a worried glance. You settled again straight away, rolling your face into the cold window. The day you had finally told Natasha about your anxiety was a relief, you cried for hours that wednesday. Since your mother, no one had been so kind. You were so afraid she would run a mile, but she sat with you for all those hours, just holding you. Nat promised to spend every sleepless night with you, lord knows she had her own problems when it came to sleep, but you somehow found comfort in each others restless nights. Often you would take turns in reading to each other, some nights you would go for a stroll around the grounds of the compound. But your favourite form of medicine was the car. Natasha would wrap you up in her fluffy blanket and strap you snug into the passenger seat, the gentle hum and sway of the motor would eventually lull you into a slumber. It took months for your girlfriend to convince you to even try the idea, you hated it at first, what did she think you were, a baby? “I know you’re not an actual baby, but your my baby” she would say “let me take care of you” how she even thought of the plan was a mystery to you and you definitely didn’t want to admit it was working.

Natasha pulled into the 24 hour gas station, the car coming to a scratchy stop. “Mm, Tasha?” You mumbled, half asleep still. “I’m here sweetheart, I just need to get some gas” she said “would you like some snacks? Or do you wanna sleep a little longer?” Your belly rumbled right on cue “choccy biscuit” maybe you were still a baby at heart, “one pack of chocolate biscuits coming right up” the beautiful red head said, oh how you thought her locks were just gorgeous. “You’re so pretty” you whispered, eyes only half open “thank you baby” Natasha laid a kiss on your warm lips and you couldn’t stop the little squeal that escaped you. She wasn’t gone long enough for you to miss her, considering you continued to doze in her absence. You heard the familiar commotion of your girlfriend climbing back into the drivers seat, you peeled your eyes open to give her a sleepy smile “here you go sleepy bear” your favourite biscuits were deposited into your lap and you whispered a small thanks.

You contently nibbled for the 45 minute journey back to the compound, while Natasha quietly sang along to whatever trash was on the late night radio, you always thought they played the worse songs during the early hours of the morning. A quick glance at the clock told you it was 2:36am, Natasha had been driving you to sleep for over an hour, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for you. “I love you” you said, breaking the silence “I love you too y/n” Natasha replied, a bit unsure at why you were suddenly all mushy. “No” you continued “I really love you” a red light gave Nat the chance to flash you another worried look, she softened when you saw your eyes glistening back at her, and the smile engraved on your face “you’re welcome baby girl” you swear she could read your mind. With the conversation at a happy standstill you decided to close your eyes again, just for a little nap until you were home.

When you stirred again, the rough car seat had become your plush mattress and your head was laying comfortably on your pillow. It quickly became Natasha’s as she climbed into bed with you “can I have my own pillow sleepy?” She giggled “no” you sighed, carrying the sound to the end of your breath “it smells like you” you mumbled “but I’m right here?” The widow kindly shot back “oh yeah” you said, eyes still tightly shut, you still failed to roll back over though. “You’re not gonna move are you?” Natasha said, you shook your head against her arm and she didn’t hesitate to haul you up into lap, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist and your head perfectly slotted into the crook of her neck. “Sweet dreams y/n” Natasha wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep that ring locked away.

————

I wrote this when I couldn’t sleep and I almost cried

-Astara

[evalevaeva]

rival | yeon sieun

warning : death

Yeon Sieun wasn't just a schoolmate. You wouldn't have considered him a friend or someone you hate. The two of you acknowledged each others existence, knowing that the other person existed simply because of one piece of paper that was pasted on the signboard of Byuksan Middle School's notice board every few months.

"First : Yeon Sieun," That was what the board would read every month from the first year of school, but somehow by the third test of the fourth year, yeon sieun's name was not first.

"Did you hear? Yeon sieun got knocked off first place!" Students began gossiping as yeon sieun stood in front of the noticeboard, face blank, but his eyes showed anger.

To say he was angry would be an understatement. He aas furious, his heart pumped faster and he could hear ringing in his ears as he walked back to his seat, acting as he would on a normal day as the students in the class looked at him, muttering and whispering to each other.

"Congratulations! I can't believe you did so well for the mock exams! You'll definitely ace the exams by CSAT year!" The sound of female students congratulations caught Sieun's attention as he raised his head to look at the window in the corridor.

You were walking with four other female students, a large smile plastered onto your face as you shook your head at your friends' words, shy from their compliments.

For the first time in a long time, Sieun felt the feeling of inferiority creeping up his neck like a silent monster. His grip on his pen became tighter as his eyes were glued onto the notebook in front of him, not wanting to think about the result slip on the noticeboard.

"Sieun," You called out his name as you held your tray of food. The boy looked up from his English textbook as he looked at you, his earpieces still in his ears as you exhaled, feeling the awkwardness creeping up your arms.

"Could I sit here? I wanted to talk to you about certain subjects because I'm still not at my best," You asked until you realised that he was ignoring you, eyes glued back onto the text on the book in front of his face as you sighed, turning to walk back to the table with your friends.

That was over a year ago, and by the actual examination, sieun was back on top, with you being in second. That didn't bother you. You weren't aiming for the top, just high enough to get into a good school later on in life.

By the last year of school, the teachers saw that both of you were high academic achievers, which led to their decision to make both of you seatmates.

The air was tense at first. You never knew if you should talk to him or wait for him to start a conversation. You chose the latter, thinking back on your only other encounter with him the previous year.

Over the course of half a year, you were still struggling with Additional Mathematics, and you could never really understand it. You would've asked your classmates but only one other student took Additional Mathematics with you, and that was, lo and behold, Yeon Sieun.

It was break time, and on a usual day, you would've been at the snack bar with your friends deciding what to eat, but today wasn't the case. You had to figure out how to do the hard questions before the exams, and you were still struggling. The teacher was no help, simply telling you to check with Sieun. If you could, you would've.

"The shoelace method."

You lifted your head up from the paper as you turned to see sieun still writing in his notebook, despite you having just heard his voice.

"The shoelace method...?" You questioned him again as he turned to you, his face with his signature cold look, but he was offering help, who were you to reject that?

Sieun adjusted his seat as he moved slightly closer to your table, his chair slanted in your direction.

"I assume you already know the formula?" Sieun asked, not looking at you as his head was tilted slightly, reading the question carefully as he clicked his pen, writing down in blue ink as he explained.

"Take the points in the anti-clockwise direction. The first point chosen must be repeated..." Sieun explained as he wrote down the formula and numbers for the polygon.

You should have been focused, but somehow... having yeon sieun so closd to you made your heart jump. You gulped as you blinked, hard, focusing on the problem at hand.

"You can use the numbers in the motion of a shoelace, x1 with y2, so on and so forth, and eventually, you'll get this answer," Sieun wrote down the final answer as you looked at him, feeling starstruck.

Everyone knew he was smart, but getting to experience his academic ability first-hand made you feel a newfound respect for him. He knew his work, and he made sure he did.

That single event with both of you led to a more comfortable atmosphere as the days passed. Sieun didn't act like you didn't exist, and you could talk to him easily, most of the time.

A simple 'good morning sieun' and a nod back was a more usual occurrence between the both of you and the teachers were more than elated by that.

On that particular day, you didn't seem yourself, even sieun could see it. You didn't speak nor look at anyone in the class as yoj entered, head hanging low as you sat in your seat. You took out your books and placed them on the table, placing your head on them as you closed your eyes, feeling the lack of sleep beginning to seep in.

Your situation at home led to your current state, but you couldn't tell anyone. It's normal academic pressure, it was nothing to worry about ; you chose to believe it. Your grades were beginning to slip, slowly like a snake creeping up with its venom. Your parents weren't happy, a screaming match ensued the moment you arrived home at the start of the week and it was already Friday. You were exhausted. Emotionally and physically, you were done.

"Wake up. The teacher's here," Sieun muttered as he tapped on your shoulder, causing you to flinch as you woke up from your five minutes of sleep.

"I'll be announcing the winner of the additional mathematical olympiad competition that was held recently," The homeroom teacher spoke, but you were to busy beginning to doze off as the teacher's sudden mention of your name caused you to wake up once again.

"Congratulations, this prize is awarded to this student for achieving first place in the additional mathematics olympiad." The teacher announced as you stood up, walking to the teacher to receive the certificate, before plopping down on your seat once again.

"Yeon Sieun, second place," The teacher announced as loud gasps were heard around the room.

You opened your eyes as you saw Sieun at the front of the class, taking the certificate half-heartedly as he gave you the same glare he had given you a year ago, over the mock exam results.

"Now, now, settle down class," the teacher shouted over the muttering and chatter in the class while you were trying to grasp a few more minutes of sleep.

Everyone had gone for their lunch, and it was just you and sieun in the classroom.

"Was it fun?" Sieun suddenly asked, he was seated, facing the board as you turned to him, confused and exhausted.

"What?" You questioned back as sieun turned to you, his eyes glaring at you ad he continued, "Did you just want help because you wanted to surpass me? To get first place?"

You were too tired for this. Everything was becoming a blur in your head.

"Look, if you wanted to win that math olympiad, you could've said so. I didn't even want to take part in it, the teacher in charge signed me up," you muttered as sieun suddenly slammed the desk with his arm, causing it to turn red with each second that passed.

"You're lazy, and all you do is leech off of others. You ask me for help in everything, but can't even do such a basic concept like polygons." Sieun scoffed as you turned to him, eyebrows furrowed at his sudden aggresiveness.

"What is wrong with you? Just because of a stupid math competition, you're attacking me? Watch your mouth yeon sieun," You spat back at him as he turned to face you, his anger reaching its limits.

"You're pathetic," Sieun stated heartlessly as you stood up, grabbing your textbooks, shoving them into your bag, not caring if the covers or pages were bent. You made your way out of the class, walking down the hallway as you made your way to the main office.

"I'm not feeling well. I need to go home," you told the receptionist as she handed you the form to fill out to leave school early.

Sieun's words were echoing in your head as you thought about his harsh words. He was just like everyone around you. Your parents, always telling you to work harder, unsatisfied with everything that you did for your academics.

You walked down the path from the school gate to the bus stop as you quietly wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall. Floodgates were about to be released, but with the many people at the bus stop, that would be embarrassing. Your vision was still blurry from the lack of sleep, but you kept repeating in your head that it was nothing to worry about.

That was until your legs gave out, and the next thing you knew, you were on the floor, your head facing the road as you felt people calling out to you. They sounded mumbled, as if you were underwater. The world seemed to become a whirlpool as you inhaled deeply, before blacking out, the last thing being the sound of the ambulance.

The next week came, and Sieun walked into the classroom, waiting patiently with a box of milk, patiently waiting for you to arrive. He had thought about his actions over the weekend and realised he had lost his cool over something minor, and he had definitely hurt you. He tried to convince himself that he did the right thing, but he couldn't. Remembering how you looked at him, face full of hurt and hands trembling, he couldn't.

The bell rang, and the boy looked up from his notebook to see the seat next to him empty. You didn't arrive. Maybe you were late? He told himself as he placed the milk under your desk for you to see when you arrived.

"I have news to share with all of you," the teacher started as she walked into the classroom with a vase of white flowers, the atmosphere becoming heavy. The teacher was barely ever serious unless something bad happened, and that wasn't a good sign to sieun.

"Our classmate has passed away on Friday. I would like everyone to remember our dear friend as someone who was hard working and could be relied on."

Sieun's ears seemed to ring. A high-pitched ring with a buzzing feeling in his head as he turned to look at his classmates. Only your seat was empty.

"Sieun," the teacher called him as he snapped out of his daze, realising she was standing beside your table.

"I hope you're alright. I know the sudden news shocked you seeing as the both of you were quite close," The teacher said as she placed the flowers on your desk, leaving it as sieun couldn't help but stare at it.

You were gone, and the last thing he called you was 'pathetic'. He was so caught up in his inner turmoil that he was so blind as to not see you suffering right in front of his two very eyes.

Sieun reached out his hand, his hand grazing the clear vase as he thought of when he'd pat your head when you'd sleep in class. He didn't expect that the next time he'd see you, you would be in a casket, with a large potrait of your school photo in front of it.

"You must be yeon sieun." a voice called out as sieun turned to see an old woman in a black hanbok, a chief mourner badge around her arm as sieun nodded.

"You were always spoken highly of. My grandchild would always come home and excitedly tell me about how she talked to you more with each day that passed." the old woman told sieun as he looked to the ground. He felt ashamed, as if he shouldn't have been there. Even in death, you'd still find a way to clench his heart.

Sieun sat at his desk at home, staring at the wall. He felt as if his soul had been removed from his body. He always felt void of emotions, but somehow, he felt like there were too many emotions.

One drop, two drops.

Sieun felt his tears running down uncontrollably, not being able to keep himself together. Sieun never had many friends, but somehow, he always found you sneaking into his heart as someone dear to him, as someone he'd want in his life.

But it was too late. You were no longer a rival, but a friend.

---

MY ASS BRUH I WORKED ON THIS FOR 2 HOURS AND IT TURNE DOUT LIKE SHIT IM SO MAD AT 4:38AM AND ITS JFJFJRWBWJ

also the math part was kind of entertaining to write other than the fact i couldn't write the formula in so pls imagine it

[akookminsupporter]

Hi Rosie! How are you? I just wanted to share. Apparently, a popular jikook fanfic writer's account was hacked on ao3 by a member of the cult. Do you know what they did? Changed JM's name on the fic to Tae's. Not just one fic, a couple. Plus, unregistered users from the cult left hateful comments on the author's stories.

I know they're fucking insane and disconnected from real life. But this? These people are gone. Nobody can ever convince them. They're so desperate because what they want and fantasize about is not translating irl, that even in the world of fiction, they go and separate Jikook in fucking ao3 fics and make them about tkk? Man, the past year and a half pushed them to the brink. They know and see how different Jimin and Jungkook are compared to the lies and manipulations they were fed.

I'm scared of what they'll do once Jikook are back, especially how they're serving together in a camp that's higher-risk and more isolated. In Psychology, a shared experience like that usually forms an even deeper level of bond.

It's honestly scary how far gone they are. I can't believe someone would fucking do this. Side note, there was another person who asked another Jikook author a couple of months ago if they could use their story and change it into a tkk one (author was not happy, but declined in a civil manner). I was already weired out by that, like why make a jikook story to a tkk one, just by changing names? Why not write one yourself? Just when I thought I'd seen it all.

Tkkrs are the very examples of JOBLESS. Because wdym they just hack into someone's ao3 account and change the names???? like who has so much time in this world

To the second anon, unfortunately, the tweet you sent is no longer available, which is why I didn’t post it.

I have to admit that when I read both ASKs, I actually laughed. That was my first reaction, and then I facepalmed myself because just when you think that subgroup couldn’t sink any lower, they go and prove you wrong. At this rate, I think they’re already making deals with the devil.

It’s just incredibly pathetic, embarrassing, and stupid. And any other synonym you can think of for all those words.

Anon 1, I get your worry about how they’ll react or behave once Jimin and Jungkook are discharged from the army, and Tae as well, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, even though things aren’t looking great.

The other thing I take from this is that they can see that Jikook is different, even in fiction, and they want that for their ship. It’s sad, pathetic, ironic, and therefore funny all at once. I genuinely wonder if they realise that by doing things like this, they’re just validating Jikook and Jikookers in every way. It’s as if they’re confirming they want what Jikook has for their own ship and what Jikookers have as fans. Even imagination.

[uravitypng]

𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄

pairing: kaminari denki x reader, hanta sero x reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings/contents(for part one): angst, petnames (denki calls you babydoll), written with a chubby reader in mind /// minors do not interact (in later chapters there will be smut and explicit content!!) - smut, fluff and more in later chapters !!

a/n: this is my first series! i'm not sure how many parts this will have but if you wanna be updated i could add a taglist! thank you @tsukkisloser, they suggested i post two versions, by saying that gave me hundreds ideas to where the story could go and i decided to combine all the the ending ideas into plot points, making my series more developed! i'm really excited for this fic and i hope you all enjoy it, it's going to fun! <3

summary: it's terrible when you're in love with your best friend. it's terrible that he's in love with someone else.

part two >> | masterlist (check out my poll for this chapter!)

You're Denki's best friend and you've always been since you both were little, you were attached to the hip, and went everywhere together, both of you went to UA together. Everything used to be okay, Denki was just Denki, your best friend, but luck never took a liking to you and years later you've realised you're in love with your best friend, you always have been.

You're in love with your extremely attractive and all around amazing best friend.

Denki has consistently flirted, he's flirtatious in nature, you never had a problem with it until you you both grew up a bit, until UA. Until Jirou. Denki still flirted with everyone but he always spoke about Jirou to you and it grated. Sure he'd find people attractive before and he'd have liked people in the past but with Jirou it felt never ending. Everyday he talked about her, something about how funny or cool she is, half the time you doubt he even realised he was being so obvious when talking to you about her.

You knew it shouldn't upset you, there was no reason why it should but it did. He never flirted with you, and you never cared about it before, but why did he never pay any attention? He hit on every one else. You were always right there and he never spared you a second glance.

You became bitter, and you really tried not to, you tried your hardest to smile through every time Denki gushed about her but it was so god damn hard.

After blowing Denki off one night, out of exasperation, you end up in Sero's room, he's always had a very good read on you, and can tell when you're pissed off and normally he knows what its about too. "Has Kaminari messaged you tonight?" He slips into conversion while briefly looking at you before the next match begins.

"Yeah, but i'd rather be with you," you shrug back, trying to sound as casual as you can. In all actuality you would rather be spending your time with Sero so you're not lying, just hiding your irritation. It's always so easy with Sero. It use to be that way with Denki but not so much recently, you'd prefer to spend your night relaxing instead of getting Denki gushing in your ear about Jirou again.

"Hmm, I'm flattered." He looks up to smile at you. If only you were into Sero instead. You two spend the night together, playing mario kart and watching x-files.

You take notice that the room is really bright, you swear it was dark only a second ago, and you hear yawning behind you. That makes more sense you fell asleep in Sero's room. It's not the first time it's happened, but it's not particularly frequent, Sero does keep a blanket in his room especially for you though, which you always thought was nice. What's nicer is Sero must have laid you down with the blanket after you fell asleep, you're fairly certain you fell asleep propped up against his wall as the last thing you remember is the climax of the episode you were watching, you don't remember how it ended, you'll have to ask.

"Heyo," you say, softly, still waking up.

Sero makes a noise of acknowledgement, as he starts stretching. "We'll probably miss breakfast if we don't get up soon," Sero says gravelly voice from behind you, the contrast between his morning voice and his regular is something that always makes your face heat up a bit.

This time you hum to let him know you've heard him and start getting up. A couple minutes later you're out the room, albeit tired.

You two seem like one of the last ones up and you can tell Bakugou's been up for awhile by the way he's already shouting, how does he always wake up so early?

"I have no idea how that guy has so much energy in the mornings." Thank fuck for Sero who always matches your energy and knows what you're thinking.

"Speak for yourself, he's already made pancakes and man that guy can cook," you hear Denki say from behind you. He's so enthusiastic in the morning and you can practically hear his grin, you just groan in response. You see Sero smirk from the corner of your eye.

"Do you wanna go out today babydoll?" Denki asks, still too tired to engage in full blown conversations you nod and lean back so you're leaning on him. "We can go to the arcade or something, after you've had some caffeine of course." You turn to the side to look at him and stick your tongue out. Even though you were actually waiting to get something to drink so you can properly start your day, Denki knows every little thing about and that's very comforting when you've just woken up. Safe to say you had a good time with Denki that day.

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·..·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·..·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·..·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

Seven years later, you're outside that very same arcade after patrol on your way back home. You can't wait to get back and relax, you haven't eaten all day, you slept in late which is no surprise and had to miss breakfast. Even now as an adult you are definitely not a morning person.

"I'm home!" You call out, Denki must not be in due to the fact he hasn't called back to you as loud as he can like normal. He's probably at Kirishima's or something. When people ask why two successful, up and coming heroes are living together, they normally fill in the blanks themselves. 'They have enough money to buy their own place, so they must be dating, they're choosing to live together.' Crappy tabloids and internet sleuths are always jumping to conclusions.

They're technically not completely wrong about the fact that you both are quickly jumping the charts every year and have plenty to spend on your own places but you have chosen to live with Denki in this warm, comfy little flat but you are just friends, even if you wish there were something more.

After graduation it made the most sense for you to live together, according to Denki, and you'd much rather live with Denki than by yourself so you agreed, years flew by and you still lived together. The idea of moving out never crossed your mind, you like living with Denki, you love it, even if sometimes he forgets to take clothes into the bathroom when showering and he walks out with just a towel on or comes into the living room late at night drinking orange juice from the carton, only leaving a drop left and not buying another one.

He's your best friend and you love him, You've matured together and seen each other grow and you're so proud of the people you've become. Whenever you praise Denki too much though it definitely gets to his head.

After leaving UA it's been a hell of a lot harder to keep in contact with everyone, there's a group chat but it's pretty dead, and even then you haven't opened the last three messages that came through last couple weeks, if it was important Denki would mention it, you'll get round to it eventually. He's always been on top of communicating with everyone, he's always been the more sociable one. Now everyone's gone pro it's harder to find time for each other and have schedules that match up with others. That's why you're so lucky you have Denki.

Although it's not just Denki you've stayed in contact, luckily Kirishima lives close by and so does Hanta so that's good. You're fairly certain you and Denki are the only ones from your class who are living together, every other hero you know lives separately that's makes you pretty special in your eyes. It must be pretty lonely having no one to come home at the end of the day, you know you definitely would be lonely if you didn't have Denki.

You make yourself some dinner and message Denki after asking where he is. You're not ready to call it a night yet and it would be nice to spend some time with people after a tiring day. Denki's at Kiri's, so twenty minutes later you're at Kiri's too.

When you get through the door, you're immediately greeted by Denki's voice accompanied with Kirishima's and Hanta's laughing, and in ten more minutes you're all squished together watching some shitty show in the background that you have no interest in, listening to Hanta and Denki passionately argue about what star wars film is better, they're absolute idiots. According to Hanta, Phantom Menace is the best one because Jar Jar Binks makes his first appearance but Denki says its return of the Jedi because it's the one where Leia has the gold bikini on.

Even though it sucks that you don't see all your friends as often as you like, you feel like you, Kiri, Denki and Hanta have grown even closer, which is weird because you honestly didn't think you could grow closer with them. They were both some of the closest friends you made during your time at UA. Half the time you still end up falling asleep next to Hanta even now, years later, when you're shattered after work, with Hanta by the side of you. That's where Sero's been for years, by your side, that's where Kiri's been too. It dawned on you one day that not only do you have Denki right beside you always, they've been there too and you're very thankful for them.

"Anyway, Kirishima can I turn this shit off and put something actually interesting on?" Hanta turns to asks Kirishima, how does this man always know what you're thinking.

"Go for it, dude."

"What's the point, it's just background noise anyway," Denki complains.

"Yes, but highly annoying background noise. I suggest anything other than this," you say back.

Denki shuts up after that and they let you pick something.

You must have fallen asleep for a some time as Denki's crouched down beside you, tucking some hair behind your ear, whispering to you, "let's go babydoll, let's get you home." You mumble something unintelligible and start closing your eyes again. "I know babydoll, you're tired but you gotta get up. You can't sleep on Kiri's floor again, you're going to hurt your back. I would carry you but I don't want to hurt you while climbing any stairs. Can you get up for me?" He helps you up and and wraps his arms around your soft waist. "Good girl, we'll be home soon, I promise." you're too tired too think, and too sleepy, not even acknowledging Ejirou and Hanta on your way out, they're used to your hazy states and find it rather endearing. Walking home is a blur, Denki's got his arms around you, keeping you warm and stable. You trust Denki to get you home safely as you close your eyes again, not looking where you're going, pulling yourself even closer to him and burying yourself in his neck, his warmth and smell keeping you cosy and relaxed.

[barbiewritesstuff]

Strauss blocked : Part 1

---

Am I bad at naming fics? Yes.

Welp this was supposed to be a 2k porn without plot and it turned into 8k words two part series... oops? I just hope it lives up to expectations :)

I just want to thank my bestie @Igg5989 for beta reading (and helping me write) and @ravensmadreads for giving me the inspiration fir this fic.

Tw: this is SMUT, IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 GTFO I DON'T WANT YOU HERE OR ANYWHERE NEAR MY BLOG. Age gap relationship, boss x employee relationship, p in v sex and all that good stuff

Taglist: @feedthemadness-sweetie

---

Section Chief Strauss was many things but when it came to working cases on the field, efficient was not one of them. She had tagged along under the excuse of performing personal performance reviews, assuring the team that she would not be getting in the way. She promised she’d merely be a ‘silent observer’ and to her credit, she had lasted an hour in that role before interjecting in every conversation and second guessing every decision any of you ever made, and because she outranked you all, her will was your command. 

“I think she showed remarkable restraint,” Spencer joked, trying to lighten your souring mood, “I didn’t think she’d last an hour,” he added.

“Did she really have to pull rank when I tried to order breakfast? Like why does she care that I like syrup on my french toast?” you asked, sudden rage exploding out of you with an intensity Spencer could never have predicted, “No, apparently ‘Girls my age won���t be thin and pretty forever, I should watch my diet before my sugar intake starts affecting things’. What a fucking bitch.”

Spencer flinched, “Yikes, I didn’t think she actually said that. I thought you were exaggerating,” he admitted.

“I didn’t even paraphrase,” you replied, looking straight ahead at the investigation board. It had been filled up pretty nicely and evidence has been coming in, but despite knowing all there is to know about the victims, their habits, friends, families and lives, you were not even close to figuring out who he is. 

And that was largely because Section Chief Erin Strauss wouldn’t let you. 

Somehow, she thought that because she couldn’t stand crime scenes and dead bodies, you couldn’t either. It was true that the crime scenes are brutal, and even Morgan came back looking a little greener than when he left, but this was your job. A job she wanted to review your performance for all while not actually letting you out of the station. 

You thought maybe it was because you’re a girl. The only girl currently on the field team because Emily broke her foot and JJ was off for her annual holiday and while Garcia was your constant companion on the phone, you felt like Strauss didn’t actually realise she was a real person. She never said thanks, or please and she kept hanging up while Penelope was still speaking. You took a deep breath, if you weren't careful soon enough you’d be the one they’d have to put behind bars. Or not, because with the way she was behaving you had a feeling Aaron wouldn’t mind giving you a couple of false alibis.

Because as bad as she was with you, she was worse with him. 

He was a good chief, kind and caring when he needed to be but professional and just the right kind of demanding. A few years ago you’d have added a couple more flaws to that descriptions -- bully, drill sergeant, the kind of man who found it easier to trust men than women even if there’s no reason for it -- but he’d grown on you. Your relationship with him has changed. At first he was just a boss, someone you’d go home and complain to your boyfriend about. Then, when Haley asked for a divorce and you got out of your own relationship after finding out your boyfriend wasn’t half as nice as you thought he was, you became friends.

And recently it had changed again. 

You had finally managed to schedule a night out with the girls after unsuccessfully trying to find a date for the seventh time that month. It had been fun, you had all danced, drunk and chatted until the early hours of the morning before calling it quits and returning home. Which is where you had been when Hotch happened to be walking by, or rather, you had been in front of your home when he happened to be walking by. You almost didn’t recognise him, he had shed the usual work suit for a casual pair of jeans and a nice shirt. 

“Hi,” he said, clearly not expecting to see anyone he knew so late -- or early -- in the day.

“Hi,” you replied hesistantly, not wanting to betray just how tipsy you were even as you swayed by your door

“You okay?” he asked, “Not too cold?” he added, helpfully pointing towards your dress. You looked down to see what you meant. Looking to have a good time and maybe bring someone home, you hadn’t dressed particularly sensibly for the time of year. In fact, you had chosen the shortest dress you owned, a golden number that showed off plenty of cleavage and left nothing to the imagination. 

You looked up, horrified to see him smirking.

“I -- err -- I locked myself out,” you said, hoping to get yourself out of that awkward moment by changing the subject.

“I don’t live too far away, you can sleep over. We’ll call a locksmith in the morning,” he offered.

“It’s okay,” you assured him.

Hotch frowned at you, “I’m not having you become one of those girls on Dateline,” he countered. You knew he wouldn’t force you, but if you refused his offer, you would officially kiss a night in a nice warm house goodbye as your only other option was your car. 

“Fine,” you acquiesced. He shot you one of his rare smiles, one of the ones that lit up his own face and that made the usual ball of nerves you felt in your stomach at the sight of one of the FBI higher ups turn into a horde of fluttering butterflies. He didn’t usually give them out easily and you wondered if this one was aided by alcohol. As you approached him, your theory was confirmed. Beneath his nice aftershave and his usually minty breath you could vaguely smell whiskey. Your drunken brain stored that fact for the next office secret santa, you just had to rig it so you’d pull his name. 

“Date?” Hotch asked after a few moments of silence, the click of your heels against pavement echoing through the night.

“Just out with friends,” you replied, accidentally bumping into him as you walked.

“Me too,” he said, “College reunion.”

It felt weird having him volunteer that much information. Aaron Hotchner was the kind of man who liked to keep his work and home life separated and rarely ever let anyone in. Letting the team in on details of his divorce had been as hard and painful as the divorce itself so you never imagined he’d happily volunteer information about what he did in his spare time. 

“I had too much to drink,” he added in a whisper, like it was a confession, “I get chatty when I drink,” he grinned at you. 

“I can see that,” you giggled at him. You hadn’t meant it in any other way than a statement but Hotch grew serious anyway.

“You can tell me to shut up if I annoy you,” he said, looking at the pavement. 

“No I--” you protested, part of you wondering if the reason he kept quiet wasn’t because of professionalism but rather because he thought people wouldn’t care

“I like chatty you,” you said and he looked up, smiling at you for the second time in twenty minutes, “I also like smiley you,” you added.

“Did you have fun?” you asked a little later, for some reason, silence with Hotch now felt opressive.

“It was nice seeing them all. It’s weird though, they’ve all changed so much that I barely recognise them. Like, I look in the mirror and I think I look pretty much the same, I mean older obviously, but like I look the same,” he said, “and then I look at them and --” he brought his hands up to his head and mimicked an explosion, “I haven’t missed them though,” he added with a giggle.

“No?” You questioned, looking at him curiously. 

“God, no. Pretentious assholes,” he replied with a heavy sigh. 

“Sweetie, you went to George Washington University,” you laughed, “Of course they’re all pretentious.”

“Fair point, Agent,” he smiled. 

“Y/n,” you corrected, “My name is Y/n when we’re off the clock.” 

“And mine is Aaron,” he replied

“Well, Aaron, can you tell me how far away we are from yours? My feet are killing me,” 

“Not too far,” he replied, “Do you see your college friends often?”

“Not the majority of them. We keep in contact, call sometimes but there’s only five I see regularly. They’re the girls I went out with,” you informed him. 

“Are they nice?” He asked, “My bunch are…,” he hesitated, “They keep making these underhand digs at those who they see as less successful. I don’t think I’ll go to the next one. It just feels like a dick measuring contest,” he said, then clapped a hand in front of his mouth once he heard you laugh and realised he had sworn, “Sorry,” he apologised, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’m trying not to swear because Jack is picking up on it. It’s not going great I keep fucking it up -- no wait! Shit! -- No! Fuck!” he exclaimed, accidentally letting out a swear whenever he realised what he had done. You couldn’t stop laughing and stopped for a moment, leaning against a tree to catch your breath. 

“I am polite,” he assured you, “pinky promise,” he added

“I believe you,” you grinned

“I am so polite that when I get home, I am going to offer you a coffee,” he said. 

“And I will accept,” you said, “I need to sober up, otherwise I’m going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow. And believe me, you don’t want to meet me when I’m hungover.”

“Eh,” he shrugged, “You’re young, it’ll pass quickly. I remember when I was your age, a hangover was just a headache, now? I have to take a sick day to recover.”

“Aren’t you exaggerating a little?” you asked

“Never,” he grinned, “Okay, maybe a little.”

“You are allowed to take days off, Aaron,” you reminded him, “You’re human, you deserve a break.”

He shrugged again, “What would I do during a break? Haley has divorced me, Jack’s only here one week every other week… I don’t want to spend more time in my empty house than I need.”

“You can go to the movies?” you offered, “Have you seen Avatar?”

“Can I be honest?” he asked, “Those blue people creep me out.”

“That is fair,” you replied, “I don’t like the hair,” 

“Yes!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in victory, “They look like elephant trunks,” he added, “My house is there,” Hotch pointed to your left at a small white brick house. One that you had passed many times when you walked your elderly neighbour’s dog. Hotch opened the wooden gate and walked up the path, accidentally tripping on a badly placed stone.

“Watch your step,” he whispered to you. Clumsily, he fished his keys out of his pocket and tried to fit it in the door in the limited light of the porch lamp. Eventually, he got it in and turned it in the lock. It opened with a click. 

“It’s nice,” you said, stepping in behind him

“Liar,” he answered, flicking the light on, “It’s dark. Was. It isn’t anymore.”

“Well it’s nice anyway,” you said, looking around. Although the furniture looked old, it was nice and it looked expensive. On one of the rare nights you had gone on as a team, Hotch had mentioned briefly living alone in Seattle when discussing rent with Emily, and you wondered if this wasn’t one of the remnants of that time. 

“Do beer goggles work on furniture too?” he joked. You stuck out your tongue at him and he grinned. 

“I thought you were polite?” you said, reminding him of his promise.

“Right! Yes! Would you like a coffee?”

“Milk and sugar please,” you answered, trying to undo the straps of your shoes and failing, wiggling your feet out of the heels instead. You’d figure out how to unclasp the buckle in the morning, when you were sober and your feet were killing you less. 

“Do you like DC?” he asked, handing you a steaming mug of coffee a few minutes later. You nodded, taking a sip, burning your lip in the process. Hotch saw you wince and bring a hand up to your mouth and immediately moved to your rescue.

“I am such an idiot,” you said.

“Don’t say that,” he frowned, grabbing your hand by the wrist and moving it away from your lip, “Let me see.”

He leant towards you, staring intently at your mouth. Your head swam more with every second he spent close to you. At work it was easy to keep your all consuming attraction to Aaron Hotchner at bay. He was your boss and maintained a professional distance at all times, preferring to call you Agent, and never asking anything for information about you beyond what he needed to know to feel like you could do the job. But with him so close to you, it was easy to allow yourself to close the gap between your mouths and kiss him.

To your surprise, he returned the kiss eagerly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and battling yours for dominance before seemingly regaining his composure and pulling away.

“We should stop,” he said, then, he hesitated, “Should we stop?”

“No, definitely not,” you answered, pulling him back towards you. Seemingly convinced, Aaron let his hands wander over your body before tapping the side of your thigh. Almost automatically, you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and rolled your hips against yours. Hotch groaned, blindly stumbling his way towards the sofa where he placed you down on your back. He joined you on the pleather furniture, towering over you with a mischievous grin as he removed his shirt in one smooth movement and unbuckled his belt. 

“Like what you see?” he asked and you gulped. Although you had spent much of your private time imagining what Hotch looked like without a shirt you had never managed to get it right. His soft but toned dad bod seemed even more attractive in person. You raised one of your hands up in the air, gently grazing his skin and tangling your fingers in his chest hair, Hotch closed his eyes and sighed.

“Care to undress me?” you asked, Aaron’s eyes fluttered open as he came back to reality. He looked at you, eager and impatient underneath him and he smiled. He bent down, grabbing your dress by the hem. You lifted your waist up and allowed him to shuffle it upwards, slowly revealing what you kept underneath. 

You silently thanked yourself for wearing nice underwear, because you wouldn’t have wanted to subject Hotch to the panties you usually wore for work. Instead, you had chosen a pretty lavender set comprised of a bralette and a thong, which Aaron seemed very pleased with as once his eyes landed on it, he seemed unable to think rationally, luckily for you, the animalistic part of the brain the lingerie had turned on seemed more than happy to take over. 

Hotch pulled off your thong and shed his trousers and boxer shorts in less time than it took for you to blink. Seeing his erection jump free of his underwear and bump against his pelvis was enough to tell you that Aaron would be bigger than any man you had ever been with. You hesitated for a second, wondering how he would ever fit.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked but you shook your head, shuffling more towards him instead to make the message clearer, “I’ll be gentle,” he assured you. 

One of his hands came to touch your core, gently grazing the sensitive skin before allowing his thumb to rest by your clit. He rubbed circles around it, enjoying every whimper you let out before giving you what you wanted and rubbing your bundle of nerves. The moans that fell from your lips were like music to his ears. He desperately wanted to fit himself inside you, but he wanted to make sure you were ready for him. 

He rubbed you faster, with every touch you could feel the coil of pleasure in your tummy tighten and soon you tipped over the edge and came with a pornographic moan. Exercising all self control, Aaron brough a hand to his cock and jerked it a few times, letting the fingers of his other hand wander down to your aching core. He slipped one finger in, savouring just how tight you were before adding another one. He pumped them in and out of you, stretching you out, adding fingers until he felt you were ready for him. 

Hotch lined himself up with your pussy, gently pressing himself in. You happily swallowed every inch of him and when he bottomed out, he let you adjust for a moment before thrusting himself in and out of you at an accelerating pace. You felt like heaven gripping him so tight that he was sure he wouldn’t last very long. Luckily for him, it didn’t seem like you would either. 

Your hands were clawing at his back, leaving scratch marks that stung deliciously every time Aaron hit that spongey spot inside you, and your moans kept getting louder, spurring him on as he bottomed out and slammed himself back in until he could no longer keep himself from coming. With a groan he spilled himself inside you, triggering your own orgasm. 

You stayed in each other’s arms for a few moments, catching your breaths before Aaron pulled out of you. He smiled at you, leaning down to leave one last kiss upon your swollen lips, leaving your relationship forever changed. 

Part of you wondered if anything had leaked. The both of you had been careful not to speak about it, in private or in public, but you worked with the best profilers the United States had to offer. It was possible someone had figured something out. Or, although you didn’t think she ever would, that Garcia had accidentally seen or heard something she never should have. Hotch wasn’t particularly careful with electronics. They were either in his suit pocket or in the back pocket of his trousers, it had never happened, but what if he had butt dialled someone? 

Although, you figured that was unlikely, since Strauss wouldn’t have come if she had any evidence at all, she would have just fired you. But it did explain why she insisted on sticking with you at all times, or why she had demanded a room right above Hotch’s, even though the hotel clerk, clearly wanting to impress the FBI’s section chief, had confessed to her that the room wasn’t all that soundproof. 

No, sadly, the more likely explanation for her overbearing presence was that she hated the team and how it was run. She thought it was too disorganised, too sloppy, and that its subpar running posed a threat to the FBI. You had to roll your eyes at that, you had been in many departments, working as an intern, then a secretary and eventually a full time salaried employee. You had seen more of the FBI than Strauss ever would, and you could say with absolute certainty that the BAU was the only team you had been a part of who ever filed their paperwork on time. Sure, most of the agents had a smidge of a hero complex and were far too eager to place themselves in danger when it came to unsubs, but the cases got cracked. The bad guys got caught. Reports got written and overtime filed.

And yet, she still insisted on making everything difficult. Quantico and the bullpen provided a little protection against her, you could always duck into a cubicle, blame your inability to speak with her on an ever climbing pile of paperwork -- even if you sometimes pulled empty sheets of paper out of the printer to bulk it up a little when it got a little too bare, a technique you had learnt from Rossi and that you had very quickly shared with the rest of the team. Only Aaron, the only agent whose pile was constituted only of real case files and documents wasn’t participating in the charade -- or simply pick the case the state furthest away from Strauss to escape her grip. 

Maybe she had gotten wide to the ruse and wanted to make you pay for it now. 

----

“Not feeling chatty?” Morgan asked the girl. She hadn’t spoken since Hotch and Spencer had apprehended her coming out of a potential victim’s back garden, red paint splashed all over her clothes. Once she was in cuffs and backup arrived, a message had been uncovered, the same message all the other girls had found and reported days before their untimely deaths. It wasn’t uncommon for unsubs to refuse to talk, although most of them at least demanded a lawyer or answered ‘no comment’ after every question. 

Avery Watts had been utterly silent since her arrival twenty minutes ago, and she hadn’t moved or blinked either. It was eerie, and Morgan was feeling it too. He was trying his best not to show it, but he kept glancing at the two way glass every few seconds, almost trying to reassure himself that if anything went wrong, someone would be able to help. He needn’t have worried. Spencer and you had made your way into the observational cubicle adjoining the interrogation room as soon as she had been brought in and you had been joined seconds later by Strauss, hot on your trail, and a rookie officer up for a promotion in a month and eager to learn. 

Avery shrugged

“Fine, I suggest you make yourself comfortable here then. We’ll be back tomorrow,” Morgan said, standing up from his chair and pushing it back underneath the table. Hotch gathered the papers in front of the unsub and placed them all back into his briefcase, leaving the pictures of the various crime scenes and victims last so she could get one last good look and one last chance for you to notice a reaction but none came. Instead, she grinned at Hotch.

“You don’t have any evidence against me,” the girl said, voice raspy from disuse, “You have to let me go.”

“I don’t need evidence,” Hotch replied, looking her straight in the eyes, “I can hold you for 72 hours without cause,” he added, wiping her self-satisfied little smile right off of her face, “And I will.”

Strauss pressed the comms button on the panel in front of you with a neatly manicured nail, “I really don’t think that is a good idea,” she said, sounding so confident in her own non-existent ability that you almost wanted to scream. You held it in, preferring to glare at her instead. Spencer, who had slowly moved to stand next to you -- whether that was to get a better look or to stop you from throwing your career down the drain you didn’t know -- grabbed your arm and squeezed it reassuringly. 

You smiled at him tensely and he returned the gesture. You were the two youngest members of the BAU task force and while a friendship was always bound to form, no one had been able to predict just how quickly the two of you had clicked. He was the resident genius, the model for the definition of a nerd and you were the ex-prom queen and cheerleading captain everyone at your school had voted ‘Most Likely to sell their soul for lipstick’, if either of you had been any less mature, the friendship would never have worked but as it was, there wasn’t a single day where you didn’t text, call, email or meet up for coffee with Spencer Reid. He was charming and kind, and a better friend than anyone else in your life had ever been. 

“Breathe,” he mouthed but you didn’t catch it, behind the two way glass Hotch moved. He placed the briefcase on the floor and walked up to the mirror.

“I am not letting her back onto the streets,” Hotch stated. As soon as the words left his mouth, the unsub moved. With surprising force, she flipped the interrogation table, breaking the cuffs off of the metal loop screwed onto the bottom of it and rearranged the piece of furniture right on top of SSA Hotchner’s trachea. She leaned in, pressing harder. Reflexively, Aaron tried to breathe in, letting out a raspy sound that raised the hair on your arms. 

You were the first to fly out of the cubicle and into the interrogation room, gun drawn and ready to shoot but when you kicked down the door, Avery moved away from the overturned table, hands raised up in surrender. Spencer came in behind you and immediately jumped to Hotch’s aid while the rookie stayed by the door, gun pointed at Avery, blocking her path in case she tried to leave, and blocking Strauss’ path in case she wanted to come in. You put your gun away and pulled out your cuffs, with a swift press of your foot to the back of her knees you got Avery down to the ground and restrained her. 

“Stay down,” Spencer told Hotch, one hand planted on the upper part of his chest, trying to keep the man from moving, “MEDIC,” he shouted. The rookie officer turned around and booked it through various corridors to get to the main office of the Santa Maria police department. Main office was a big word, only three officers operated the three shifts the day was separated into, with a volunteer officer coming in whenever the grocery store he worked for didn’t need him. The FBI’s presence had changed things a little, the BAU’s team of four and one or two medics permanently assisting the team dwarfing the police force without even really trying. It was lucky the police station had been built by an optimist in the late forties, as they had prepared for a mining boom that had never come and made the precinct much bigger than necessary. So big in fact, that half the rooms remained unused and only three of the twelve holding cells had ever been used at the same time. 

Officer Jones, the rookie whose name badge you finally took the time to look at, came back five minutes later, medics and Rossi in tow. They crowded around Hotch as he slowly regained the ability to breathe and then speak. You wanted to stay, seeing him hurt like that roused feelings in you you usually tried so hard to keep down, but Avery stirred and you suddenly remembered the reason Aaron was currently on the floor, recovering from the unsub’s idea of feng shui. You yanked her up and she yelped, feeling a slight bit of vindication you passed Rossi. He grabbed her other hand and helped you manhandle her down the hall into a badly lit holding cell. A ‘bed’ had been prepared, made from a thin mattress, a pillow and a scratchy blanket, and whoever had prepped the room had had the forethought to bring out a plastic cup of water. You walked her into the cell and uncuffed her. Avery glared at you in a way that told you that if looks could kill, you would have been the newest victims in her growing group. You turned around, walking out of the room as Rossi locked it. He turned away, but a strange sound resonated through the air and the both of you froze. Suddenly, you were showered with something cold and wet and Avery cackled, the plastic cup rolling out from under her cell. 

[stevesnightmares]

I just re-read the captive prince trilogy after 9 years so here are some thoughts and observations (I read a physical copy while listening to the audiobbok):

No spoilers

the books are super easy to read, I read each of them in a day and never once did I get bored or felt like I needed to take a break. If you enjoy them I feel like they work perfectly if you are in a reading slump.

I might be biased because I was also listening to it while reading but I feel like the writing worked just fine. I saw people say that the writing was awful but I didn't have any problems at all with it. I was never once confused by what was happening on page nor did I ever feel like too little or too much was being said and described.

One of my gripes with the writing comes in book 3 because I felt like the two parts that had Laurent POV just didn't work because it didn't feel like it was a stylistic choice and it didn't feel natural or needed, it just made me think that the author didn't know how to write that from Demen POV (which makes no sense because I know she can)

not only that but I also feel like it would've worked much better if we didn't get those scenes and continued with Demen's knowledge instead of making us privy to something he didn't know. I genuinely think they were unnecessary.

I might've missed something but in book 3 there is also a part where I felt like what Demen is thinking in a chapter and then what he claims and thinks a few chapters later don't align. With no spoilers, this is how it felt to me: chapter 1: demen thoughts: the apple fell from the tree chapter 3: demen thoughts and words: I knew the apple didn't fall on it's own and that there was a reason for it to fall.

I don't know why people say that these books handle its dark themes badly. Personally I think it handled everything quite well. Just because every 3 seconds the author isn't telling you "this is bad" it doesn't mean that it's poorly done or supports any of the bad things that happen.

The characters live in extremely flawed societies that have practices that we wouldn't condemn, so of course they will not immediately start out being against them, it wouldn't make sense, instead throughout the books and events they slowly start to realise why some things are bad. It's called character development.

Not only that, words coming out of a flawed and traumatised character shouldn't be taken as the moral of the book but as what they are: words of a flawed and traumatised character who is lashing out.

I feel like many people saw that very bad things that happen in these books and instrad of saying "I can't read that", which is fair, they decided to take the high horse and act as if it's morally wrong to like these books because bad things are portrayed in them.

Book 2 I think was my favourite, I devoured it and it was just super fun to read.

My second gripe is with Jokaste but without spoiling anything I can only say that her character was imo wasted and that it just felt like the author had 2 very different ideas of who she was in book 1 and book 3.

I LOVE laurent, he's just the type of characters that I enjoy, cold and guarded on the outside but only because he wants to protect himself while being also sweet.

Also really enjoyed many of the side characteristics which I thought were really interesting (I would've enjoyed more interactions between those other characteristics and L and D but that's a personal taste)

I actually think that 9 years ago I only read the first book and the first half of the second while skimming through the rest lmao

also I will not tell you which character I didn't like at all and found annoying when I was 16 but would die for in an instant now because you'll think 16 years old me was psychopath because what the fuck

[oknowkiss]

my lucky number - 42, drarry. please and thank you!

you got it! please enjoy! ~600 words, rated T for language. les champs-elysées - joe dassin

Harry decides to have breakfast in Paris. He’s twenty-one, it’s nine in the morning on the sixth of June, and the cleansing power of his hangover has allowed him to realise he can go anywhere he wants, with anyone, to do anything, for the rest of his life. 

His Portkey lands in an alley a short distance from the Eiffel Tower, because after the agent had asked him where he’d like to go, and after he’d replied, “Erm… France?” she had said, “The first timer package, then. Return trip is half eight. Here’s your list of attractions and instructions for a basic translation charm.” 

No matter. He has breakfast at a street-side cafe, espresso and carbs and sunlight quieting the pounding inside his head. 

He visits several of the attractions on the Portkey agent’s list: the Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre. All of them are far too crowded, and by midday he’s resolved not to follow the list. After all, isn’t that the point of this excursion? To do what he wants? 

Harry has a glass too many of vin rouge at lunch and his confidence inflates in direct opposition to his experience with France, his ability to manage having time to himself, his general awareness of his surroundings and how to navigate them.

Which is to say: it’s now seven, ninety minutes before his Portkey takes him back home, and all he’s done is become increasingly lost. Harry chews on a bite of pasta and wonders if it counts as being lost, if you never had a destination to begin with? Perhaps he’s been lost — or not lost — since leaving the Forbidden Forest four years ago. Every day a step further into the void, away from his intended purpose. 

A loud, sudden coughing rouses Harry from his thoughts. Harry’s head snaps to the left, his hands already in fists, ready for action. 

“What the bloody fucking hell are you doing here?” Draco Malfoy splutters, staring at Harry with watery eyes. Around them, several diners look away. A lover’s quarrel, they presume. In Paris? How droll. 

“Malfoy?” Harry asks stupidly. It’s obviously Malfoy. No one else looks like him, which is actually quite annoying seeing as it means Harry can’t chalk it up to misconception when Malfoy sneaks into his wank fantasies. 

And no, he doesn’t want to talk about that.

“The one and only, thanks to you,” Malfoy replies meanly. A steak sits half-eaten on his plate, red juice pooling on the china. It doesn’t not remind Harry of the second floor girls bathroom.

“If you’re looking for sympathy, you’ve got the wrong orphan,” Harry says. Then, because he’s already bored with this argument, “You live in Paris, do you?” 

“What’s it to you?” Malfoy asks. He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Nothing, I suppose.” Harry shrugs. “Forget it.” He turns back to his food.

“It’s my birthday,” Malfoy says, calling Harry’s attention again. “Well, yesterday. This is my gift to myself.”

“Eating dinner alone?” Harry asks, amused. 

“Go ahead and laugh—” Malfoy starts, but Harry cuts him off.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Harry says. “I—” He bites his lip. “I do the same thing.” 

“Other people are exhausting,” Malfoy insists, his face red. 

“Hell is other people,” Harry says. Then he's blushing, too. “I read that on a bag once.” 

“And did it hurt, reading all those words in one go?” Malfoy says. A smile plays at the corner of his mouth. 

Harry checks his watch. Half-seven. He looks down at his pasta. Mostly eaten.

“I’ve an hour before my Portkey,” Harry says, and he’s barreling forward blindly now, no idea where this will land. “Shall we order dessert?

(give me a number 1 - 100 & i'll write you a drabble based on the corresponding song on my spotify wrapped)

[nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx]

I was bored

I was lying in bed trying to read, I didn't particularly enjoy reading in English but Annabeth and Percy had been helping me and I didn't want that to go to waste. Then Annabeth walked in through the half open door, holding a pair of scissors.

"Finally someone to put me out of my misery." I mutter putting the book down,

"Nope, but I will be bringing that up to your therapist. I think it's time for a haircut Nico." She said smiling like a maniac,

"Oh fuck no." I say running past her and out the front door. My hair was in a braid down my back; I ran as fast as I could but I knew Annabeth was faster than me. I saw her chasing me, I could probably shadow travel away but when her minds set to something it's very hard to get her to give up. I honestly didn't care too much but why not add a bit of excitement into this. "Why the fuck are you doing this?"

"I'm bored."

"Go find someone else to annoy."

"Don't think I will Neeks." I flipped her off and continued running, she grabbed my wrist. I shadow traveled to the edge of the forest and ran towards the center, I was hoping to throw her off but she spotted me pretty quickly and ran after me. I should have been able to stay away with the lead I had but the shadow travel tired me out and Annie's fast. I was about to shadow travel away again, "You do realise if you pass out you can do whatever I want right?"

"Fuck you."

"Save that for Will." I blushed hard before shadow traveling back to my cabin, I knew I wouldn't be able to run properly after that, but I got away for a bit. "You aren't getting away that easy, Angel boy." She said walking through the door, I was honestly too tired to do anything.

"Fine, you win. But please don't fuck up too badly."

"You have such little faith in me, I'm offended."

"We both know that that is very reasonable."

"Shut up di Angelo." She quite literally pulled me into a chair and started brushing out my hair. "When's the last time you even cut it?"

"Like a month ago I think? Will cuts the ends, it terrifys him so it's always entertaining as fuck."

"You're a terrible person Nico." Annabeth laughed

"I am fully aware; what are you doing to my hair anyways?"

"I think it's time for a change."

"Oh no.... PLEASE don't dye my hair, I am never doing that shit again."

"Don't worry... but you are getting an undercut." I paused for a couple of seconds,

"Now you see the concept, I have no problem with but the thought of you doing that...."

"Oh shut up I can actually be accurate."

"Fine, I trust you." Annabeth sectioned my hair into two parts plaiting them separately, one around the bottom and edges, one on top.

"You ready?"

"I really don't care, honestly I just wanted to make this hard for you."

"Of course you did." The daughter of Athena said while cutting off the bottom braid before buzzing the now short hair, she threw the braid in front of me. "Well that was a lot of hair."

"No shit." I laughed before hitting Annabeth lightly in the shoulder, she started taking out the rest of my hair that was in a braid and brushing it out again.

"What do you think Will's gonna say?"

"He's not going to give a fuck let's be honest with ourselves."

"You seem so certain on that."

"He didn't care when I got twenty tattoo in one day, I mean he was concerned and gave me a bunch of pain killers and kept me in the infirmary for a day but that's unrelated. I doubt he's going to give two fucks about a haircut."

"I am not going to ask why you got twenty tattoos in one day." Annabeth started cutting the rest of my wavy, thick, black hair to just around my shoulders, layering it before adding some bangs, that were long enough for me to put behind my ears. "So thoughts?"

"I'd love to give them but there isn't a mirror here."

"That's irrelevant, I want to see Will's reaction."

"That's the whole reason you did this wasn't it?"

"Naaa, I was just really fucking bored." I laughed as I ran my fingers through my hair, it was so much shorter than I had, had it in years but was kind of nice. Honestly I also really wanted to see what Will would say, I didn't think he'd be judgemental or anything. But the thoughts always had to cross my mind, all the 'what ifs?' I push them out of my mind and tell Annabeth to wait for a minute so I can wash and properly do my hair. It took about a quarter of the time it used to but still that moment of time made me think of every possible reaction for Will to have, I decided to leave my hair out as we walk to the Apollo cabin. I knocked of the door and unsurprisingly Will answered it, he saw me and kind of froze, a bit shocked.

"So what do you think?" I muttered, Will pulled me closer to him and sunk into a kiss, he tasted like strawberries. He ran his fingers through my hair; he was warm always, smelling like rubbing alcohol mixed with roses and a sweet scent I could never really place. I wrapped my arms around his neck standing on my tiptoes to reach him, grabbing the ends of Will's short, curly, blonde hair. As we broke the kiss he leaned down and whispered,

"You look amazing my Angel." I blushed and that is when we realised Annabeth was recording the whole thing and was running off to cabin one to show Jason.

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

Not a helpless chapter (sorry about that, the next chapters long and I haven't had time to write)

Pls give advice cuz I don't think the plot makes sense.

I don't know if I really like this ficlet, I started it in the middle of writing the Ariel chapter because I hated writing it so much I needed something to write that wasn't helpless.

I don't really like it but I feel like might as well post it.

I have a Angel Dust ficlet that I wrote a few weeks ago so comment if u want to see it

You will be getting Harry Potter, specifically marauders shit soon because I have far too many wolfstar ideas that I want to write that I haven't.

If you read my Wattpad stuff I promise I'll try to update Not All Hero's Have Happy Endings and if anyone wants (don't know who's reading it at this point cuz I've barely started) Mischief Managed, I was actually very excited when I started it but I think the style might change a lot cuz I started that like two years ago.

If you have any fandoms u want fics for I will try to write some, just comment.

The mystery in my mind is taking over, maybe the time is up. I will always be there with you, I promise I'll always be there.

Love,

-Siri

[19871997]

NEED to read a natemac cmd fic kind of desperately now. Um. also thinking about the people connecting them… off the top of my head, sidcros, tyson barrie, mitch marner? like. cmd in cole harbor like I Am Here To See Sid. Uh. Definitely The Only Reason. ALSOOO weren’t they on that one golf trip together with sidcros and marner too???

GUYS. i cant believe we forgot. team north america. they were actually teammates at some point. also according to my personal favourite nhl related site hockey teammates notable shared teammates, outside of tbarrie, include: aaron ekblad (more 1oa connections and such, via tna), am34 (see aaron ekblad), nail yakupov (rip), our beloved rnh (on tna, more 1oa angst and such, something something rnh seeing how connor is w leon and then how he is w natemac at the world cup and then having a sit down with him), jeichel, JODROU ! (team north america i miss u every single day, something something jodrou having a sit down w natemac 'we broke up three years ago bud either fuck mcdavid or stop flirting with him for all our sakes'), calvin pickard, and also burakovsky and macdermid who were both on the otters w connor and the avs w nate

ALSO. somehow over the years nate's turned into connor's most consistent hook up (they were messing about during tna, spilled over into the regular season - not every time they played each other because sometimes they really do have to dip out the city as soon as they've taken their skates off, but nearly every time, and the all star game is. well. like sure, its entirely for fans and to make money but watching connor win fastest skater year on year... sometimes the competancy kink wins out over the competitiveness) and OBVIOUSLY. this changes during the 2022 playoff series (connor has some misplaced blame in the anger/disapointment post-ecf (probably knows it's misplaced but wallows in his misery), airs nate's texts and calls and the tiktoks and tweets he sends him entirely, cannot think about him without thinking about how much pain leon was in during that series, can't watch him lift the cup, can't watch him be so fucking proud of cale, without feeling sick with jealousy, and obviously someone (rnh/tbarrie..?) notices how he's so weird about it all and connor's insistent that it has nothing to do w how they were hooking up ('it's not just hooking up if it's been going on since 2016, connor' 'what else would you call it?' 'the most annoying courtship ive ever had to witness. i just got here from the leafs, connor') and that he can in fact be super normal just in general and maybe this is the natural end of their situationship ('you are way too old to be using words like 'situationship', tyson' 'who just got asked about their biological clock, connor') and its fine. really) AND THEN sid extends an invitation to connor (and to leon becuase lbr sidcros INVENTED the hockey boybestfriends who cant do anything without each other) to train at gary's that summer and connor accepts a bit too quickly knowing he'll have to sweet talk it to his agent a bit because he did agree to biosteel like, six months ago, but cmon it's sid! and in the euphoria of training at gary's (max. 20 people) instead of biosteel (half the damn gta) it slips his mind that cole harbour's second son will also be there until leon reminds him when he facetimes him. ('are you sure training with crosby is worth seeing your ex for half the summer?' 'dylan's at biosteel' '...' 'leon i have got to quit the nhl. he's not even my ex.'). ANYWAY. training at gary's also involves jonathan drouin and it's fun for connor to see what nate's like around someone he really does care about, instead of, say, a fuckbuddy and leon notices him be so fucking weird about drouin and connor's watching sidney freaking crosby and brad freaking marchand do puck battle drills in nova freaking scotia when he realises he might actually have a crush on nathan mackinnon. who's flirting with jo drouin so aggressively connor has half a mind to send a text into the old erie group chat sincerely apologising for when he was clumsily trying to flirt with dylan. (leon tells him later that helping jo with his wristshot is not actually flirting, because helping someone with thier job is not flirting, and connor mortifyingly realises that all those times leon wanted help with his stick dangles back in hte day he was not flirting. leon also tells him that he has got to get his jealously under control before jo notices, because he really doesn't deserve to get caught in all this, connor). something something eventually jo does talk to him and ends up asking if he's with leon 'out of curiosity, you guys seem close' and connor can't help himself but ask similarly about nate -> 'we messed around as kids, years and years ago, but he, uh, has his eye on someone' -> connor pretends he isnt crushed about it, because he's not, obviously, and just because nate's been connor's most consistent hook up definately doesnt mean that connor was nate's, and connor can kind of only assume it's cale, or quite literally anyone else in the denver area (is there a greater denver area? it's not really connor's bussiness to know, anymore or ever, really) -> connor and nate FINALLY. talk

maybe at the fated golf trip w sid and mitch? mitch is making nate laugh and giggle and connor realises he has it really fucking bad when he thinks that he wants to be hte one to make nate laugh like that. jesus christ -> ends up coming last by an insanely large margin -> after nate's like let me make you feel better, and they havent done this since the regular season, and jo told him that nate likes someone, and connor just, can't, be a convenient hook up for him anymore, because he knows the way these things go and he knows that the smart thing to do is to quit while youre ahead and failing that, pull the parachute when you're falling, not when youre crashing into the ocean, and nate thinks. either he can respect that, and that's fine, or he can push, just a little, because it's connor and he's pretty sure he's been a bit in love with him since team north america (and tyson has a tendancy to tell him that he falls in love with his friends as easy as breathing, but it's a different type with connor, because he loves cale, he loves gabe, he loves EJ and tyson and jo, and yeah sure he's a little bit in love with all of them, but connor he's wholly in love with, so much so that he doesnt really know what to do with himself, doesn't know what to do when he sees oilers admin post clips of him, leon and tyson messing around, or when he sees him and ekblad turn back into sixteen year olds with eachother or when he sees the way he sticks to leon's side like there's nowhere else he can be, wants to accept that he wouldnt even crack top ten of connor's list of people he cares a lot about, but.) anwya. -> nate pushes a bit connor thinks nate knows? and has known the entire camp and gets a bit upset about it -> nate literally just found out now. world changed. stunned. tyson cannot find out for at least a year. he owes cale a slushie (cale, who was there at the all star game. cale who shoved him in connor's direction when they were all at the bar and told him to stop making eyes at him if he wasn't intending on picking him up). -> they get together ♥️ eventually.

[feeling-high-with-pride]

Thinking about Odin and Magpie...

On some brainrot stuff again so I’m gonna ramble about the Arrow siblings. 

A long while ago I saved a translation of the nordic runes in panel 1547, seen below;

I can’t recall who did the translation (whether it was from here or Reddit, so if someone knows I’ll add credits to them!) but it reads:

“I woke up this morning and realised that I could not remember the sound of her voice. Her laugh echoes in my head when I try hard enough to imagine it. But it's nothing more than an empty weightless reflection of reality teetering on the cusp of my memory and it only brings me pain to try and remember it. But my fear of forgetting her is much more powerful and so I must remember and end up at the same question of everybody in the universe. What did we do to deserve this. Why me?"

This, written in Odin’s notebook presumably, was shown directly after Moribund Malediction. There is a level of intense melancholy associated with this writing, exploring a sense of longing to remember those who are no longer with us. If Odin did write this, then there are two characters that this reflection piece could be referring to; either Magpie or Odin’s mother. I’m more inclined to believe it’s Odin’s mother in this sense, as it’s been a longer period of time since she’s been around versus Magpie’s disappearance about 2 and a half years prior to the main story. 

Tragically, Odin is forgetting his mother. 

It doesn’t help that Pedri (later in the story when Odin is unveiling his “tragic backstoryTM”) was shown to be tormenting Odin through the visage of his mother. Being shown so many illusions, and perhaps turning to the herbs he smokes as a way of deterring Pedri, it would make sense if Odin has begun to forget what his mother was actually like when he was younger. It seems like the only good memory or dream he has of her is from when he was born around Gildhaust and she was showing him around. 

It would be really sad if Odin was forgetting Magpie too, but from the clearer shots of her in his memories I do doubt it. 

Speaking of Magpie, I went back to check out some panels I knew existed (namely panels 1275-1277, which appear just after Ava is trapped in the Gate to Paradise machine. 

Looking back on these...it has to be Magpie! The bow, the blue...it just makes sense!

The first image shows Magpie looking rather happy, holding the hand of a featureless figure. This is likely Magpie with her ‘inbisible friend’, as she told Odin when they were younger. The inclusion of a happy sun (I think it is one on the righthand side?) is interesting, given that Aedinfell hasn’t been with a proper sun for a long time. 

The second image shows Magpie looking much more upset and crying, standing alongside two other girls of similar (if not exact) stature. This must be her sisters; Crow and Raven. As the youngest of the triplets, she often was given a lot of grief (in Odin’s words), so this drawing seems to exemplify that! It’s possible she was bullied by her sisters, or teased for being the youngest. 

The third image is a bit more confusing in my opinion. There’s 6 vertical lines followed by a faceless girl. It doesn’t appear to be Magpie specifically, since the bow is missing, but it could always be her regardless. My first thought (which could be wrong) was that the lines plus the girl equal to seven, like the seven deadly sins that the Hosts are meant to portray. Ava = Wrath, Odin = Pride, Gil = Envy, Maggie = Lust, Erios = Greed(?) and then three others that have yet to be revealed. What if this signifies that Magpie is the last Host we’ll meet pertaining to these sins? Honestly she’s probably not, but it’d be pretty cool. 

If anyone has thoughts on that last image I’d love to hear them.

Anyway, I guess the point of these rambles is that I think the Arrow siblings need a big hug and lots of blankets because holy shit this family is traumatised af, and definitely need the additional care and love that they missed out on getting when they were kids. 

[cock-ainee]

Fortuitous pt. 1

Sanemi cosplayer x fem!reader

_____________________________

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: So, I'll be completely honest - I have no idea what i'm doing there and why. The idea just popped in my head - as something i'd like to do, haha - but then i thought of making a story out of it. So! I want to say - this is not a typical fanfiction with Sanemi, it's about reader with a cosplayer!

Enjoy!

Since her childhood years, YN has been always viewed as a normal, sweet, intelligent girl. Everybody, always, has been jealous of her knowledge, grades, judged her every move and pointed out smallest mistakes.

But yes, YN has always been a normal girl.

Going into her teenage years, she had plans - ambitions, big hopes for the future, aiming for college and a good middle school to get her ready info further life.

But when she actually got accepted into her new school, she didn't realise how much of a mistake it would actually be.

The first year was going quite well, nothing seemed to be foreshadowing the nightmare that her school days would become. But as YN's best friend - only true friend in class she had - changed schools. Gradually, YN has dropped her grades, and started closing up from others.

Going into second year, her life became an absolute nightmare. Scared of talking to people, teachers, ditching school, getting authorities over her head - it seemed like NOTHING was going well anymore.

Her cousin enraged her, also. She never had perfect relationship with her, but what made her most furious was their conversation weeks ago.

°°°

Why do you even want to switch schools?? With your attitude, you're always going to complain about anything. Everything's going to be the same whatever you do. <

YN gazed at the message, her mind flaring with anger.

The next messages her cousin sent were just self-centered yapping about how she struggled with her own work, her colleagues, her situation, her mood, her feelings - her, her, her, her. Not even once has she thought of YN's feelings. The fact she may not be in total control of the things going on in her life.

> Go fuck yourself

YN texted back, seething the same words trough her gritted teeth.

Since then, she understood that she doesn't want to have anything to do with that bitch.

°°°

YN was scrolling trough Instagram - once again ignoring the fact she should study - and noticed a quite pretty post. A cosplay of her favorite character.

Oh, right! Because there was an obsession YN had. It was Sanemi Shinazugawa - a character of her all time favorite anime.

- Fucking hot.. it would be lucky to have someone cosplay him for me.. -

She stared at the pic for a moment with a blank expression on her face. And then she blinked, because then it clicked.

Usually YN overthinked everything she did - but not this time. She texted the man without hesitation.

> I've got a deal for you???

And then she waited.

Regretted her decision.

Then waited, waited, waited.

It was agonizing, almost. The hope of the man texting back was slowly fading, replaced by a shame caused by her doing. She was so taken over by this revelation that she dreamed of it, until one day, finally, she woke up to a reply.

What kind of deal?? <

Oh now THAT was the moment for action.

Seeing he was active, she carefully chose a reply.

> I'll pay you to cosplay Sanemi for me

Oh now that's new. If you want a pic with me, i won't make you pay. I suppose you live nearby??? <

The girl's face heated up at his words. From embarrassment, but also because he would be willing to take a picture with her for free. But that wasn't what she wanted.

> No, i don't want a picture. I'll pay you, for pretending to be my boyfriend.

He read that. He's seen that.

Silence.

And do I get to be a lil touchy 😏 <

> I'll cut your salary in half

Worth it <

> Is that a yes??

Let's say so. Where do i meet you up, princess? <

> In front of my school tomorrow, 7.50. I'll send you the adress later

YN felt like she needed a cold shower to take that news. And so, she went to the bathroom and spend nearly an hour there, nearly dying from excitement.

Then it was time to tuck herself to bed, to the thoughts of having a.. new boyfriend???

°°°

The next day, YN was waiting for her "boyfriend" in front of the school. And just when she was about to give up to her anxiousness and get inside the building, somebody grabbed her by the hips and she was pulled against a firm chest.

- Hey, princess~! Not like i stalked your profile, but i did stalk your profile. You're looking even cuter in real life than those silly pictures -

- W-WHAT?!! -

YN was so startled, she almost pushed her elbow into the guy's face.

- Are you insane?? Stop attacking, immediately! -

Just in case not to get murdered, the guy let go of her and stepped aside.

And when YN looked up she was even more startled than before. The guy was towering above her, at least a head taller than her. His hair were white, and he had this makeup indicating those iconic scars on his face. He was wearing a simple white button up shirt - with a few top buttons left undone - and black pants that were tight around his waist.

- I-is that a wig..? -

The guy's face expression softened as a chuckle left his lips. She didn't miss the fact that he had purple contacts.

- Oh? No, i dyed them this way. -

He put a hand over her shoulder, bringing her a tiny bit closer to himself.

- You wanted me to be your boyfriend, why so silent now?? Do you not love me?? -

He pouted, enjoying the teasing. YN huffed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him after her.

- Let's just get inside -

They didn't exchange a word while walking, but he changed their position, so that now their hands were entwined together.

As they walked down the hallway, some people who knew YN were eyeing her - and she, deep down, swelled with pride.

°°°

YN had to be honest. Having a man like that walking around with her for the whole day, like a puppy, was satisfying. Her lovely "Sanemi" was all smiley - a little out of character - and his acting skills were perfect. He had no problems with playing pretend, as if he and YN knew themselves for a longer time than just those few hours.

- Wait. What even is your name? -

YN spoke about that matter after the first lesson, when she realised she never asked him this - and there were no informations about it on his profile.

- Oh fuck, right, i never told you. I'm loosing my head here with you, see? -

He let our a chuckle and brushed a hand trough his white hair.

- My name's Aiden. But you can just call me Sanemi, you know. That's what i just am for you, right? -

YN raised her eyebrow questionably.

- You sound pretentious -

- Huh?? No offense. You're just oversensitive -

The girl didn't like his response at all, but decided to just wave it off.

For the rest of the day, she had a loyal puppet running around her like he was over the moon with her.

Maybe he was?

Or what's more possible, he just wanted to be worth the money.

What YN noticed, and wasn't against, was for sure, how touchy he was getting. Seems like his message wasn't just a joke and he really was taking the opportunity. Though they knew each other for like... Max 9 hours, YN didn't complain. It would probably be the only time a man would be touching her anyways.

After school, it was time to pay him off. Aiden got dragged out of the school by his "girlfriend" - while he talked with the friends he apparently made - and when YN made sure they were far enough from familiar people, stuck a bunch of bills into his hand.

- Isn't it too much? -

His purple contacts pierced trough her as his confused face expression almost made her giggle.

- I'm paying in advance -

Her explanation was fairly brief, but Aiden didn't comment it. The thing that surprised him was how she just chose to ignore him as she quickly walked down the street.

The girl jolted in surprise as she felt her hand being grabbed.

- Why are you running away from me? Let me just walk you home -

The white haired man spoke, taking YN's silence as an agreement. When they stood in the door to her house, he did so much as to lean down, kiss her cheek and smile before walking away with a little wave.

- See you tomorrow! -

YN was too stunned to answer to his words, as she stared at him before he disappeared around the corner.

°°°

When she laid in bed, the only thing she could think about were his hands over her, the WHOLE day. She knew she shouldn't, but she felt a tiny squeeze in her heart anytime she recalled how his hands would squeeze her waist or hold onto her own.

And so, even though he wasn't hers, it seemed that YN's "boyfriend" would be what pulls her out of the cage of her own misery.

[alexia-redacted]

Leaving Part II

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

Genre: hurt, comfort

Warnings: none

Summary: it's time for you to leave and Nat fully intends to let you do it

Words: 1.2k

A/N: hi, this is my attempt at writing again after a while with zero motivation. This is just a quick second part to a drabble I wrote back in September because of popular demand (aka one person asked haha so @when-wolves-howl I know you don’t remember but there you go). Sorry I suck at writing actual fluff.

Part I

Packing is hell. You don’t know if you’re allowed to grab your favourite clothes to throw in your suitcase. Well, her favourite clothes. The ones Natasha loved seeing you in. The ones she bought for herself knowing damn well you’d end up stealing them because wearing your girlfriend’s clothes has always brought comfort to you.

You don’t even know if you’re allowed to cry as you get ready to leave for another continent. Because in the end, you did this to yourself.

It’s been two weeks since you broke the news of your leaving to Natasha. 

Two weeks of work and a rushed visa procedure as your only companions and that alone has kept you plenty busy… and yet.

It’s been two weeks of her last words echoing in your mind 24/7. “I’m here and that was never enough to make you stay.”

Nothing in the world can quiet your mind when it comes to the hurt you caused your favorite person.

When you throw a last pair of jeans in your bag, you’re not sure if they’re yours or hers but they’re comfy so you try to ignore your laboured breaths.

Checking the time, you realise you need to hurry up. Your plane leaves in a couple of hours and the car your work sent to drive you has probably been waiting downstairs for a while.

You shoot a quick text to Steve to let him know he can tell her that you’re on your way. She can finally come pick up the belongings she left behind. When he wishes you a safe travel, you can tell his goodbyes are bittersweet, even through your screen.

You drag your suitcases and yourself out of the bedroom and through the rooms you lived in for the past five years.

Your eyes run about your apartment for the last time and you can’t avoid the many times they catch onto pieces of Natasha and your life together. 

A candid picture of you two, smiling, love shining in your eyes. Her water bottle sitting idly on the coffee table. A book you gifted her two christmases ago that she’s read about five times already, and judging by how it lays on the side table open and face down, she was well into a sixth read.

You pick it up, running your fingers along the surprisingly still smooth pages.

A tear drop wets the paper but you barely notice it.

-----

“Are you sure about your decision not to even say goodbye to them?” Yelena asks and Natasha can’t help the sigh she lets through the phone.

“We’ve gone over this so many times, will you drop it already?” A beat passes as Nat struggles with the lock of the front door so she props her phone between her shoulder and ear to push the heavy door. When she steps in the lobby with familiarity, a heavy weight settles in the pit of her stomach. “It’s too late anyway, Steve told me they’re gone. They left a few hours ago”

“I’m sorry, Nat.”

“I’m not,” and she almost sounds convincing.

But she doesn’t. And she knows she doesn’t. Before Yelena can point that out, she adds, “I’m about to lose you, I’m getting in the elevator. See you later.” She hangs up before her little sister can add anything about her wavering voice.

The elevator brings her to the fourth floor and she has to brace herself before she makes it to the door she’s crossed so often the past couple of years.

The door hisses on its hinges making Natasha cringe. It used to be the sound that alerted you of her coming home. You’d be right there in a heartbeat to give her a kiss, happy to see her after a long day.

A sob wracks the air.

Natasha’s chest constricts and air leaves her lungs. Slowly, she whips around to take in her surroundings.

The half empty apartment that greets her isn’t what chills her to the bones.

There, by the coffee table, she sees the red cover of her favorite book.

One of your hands grips it tightly while your other hand covers your mouth to control the volume of your sobs.

Your red rimmed eyes meet her green ones.

Hers soften but she doesn’t approach you.

You stay unmoving too, tucked on the floor between the couch and the small table.

Nat’s eyes drag from your forgotten luggage to your pathetic form. She raises a single eyebrow at you and you can see the question forming on her lips.

She doesn’t need to ask.

“I couldn’t do it,” you whisper.

You put the book down with reverence. Not quite ready to face Nat’s fury, you shove your tear streaked face in your hands. You’re shaking.

You barely hear Nat moving about.

You can’t.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t. 

She is gonna pack her own thing and she���ll leave you in your misery.

And you deserve it.

Fuck.

You deserve it.

Maybe you should’ve gone.

Natasha won’t want you anymore.

You’re too late. You’re too late. You’re too late. Yo—

A soft hand on the crown of your hair stops you mid-thought.

Natasha’s thumb rubs slowly on your forehead. She is patient. She doesn’t force you to raise your head just yet so you take the time to get in control of your breathing again.

When you finally look back up, Nat’s hand falls back on her lap. She is sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You can’t read her expression, though.

She points at the mug next to her, “I made you tea.”

You look from the offered liquid to her impassive face and soon tears fill your eyes once again but you can’t let them fall.

You’re the one to blame.

“I’m so sorry,” you say in a broken voice.

Nat shakes her head. “Are you here to stay or just delayed?”

“I wanna stay.” 

“And your work in London?”

“Is less important than you.” You wipe at your nose with your sleeve before straightening up. “I should’ve asked you to come with me or decided to stay here.”

“But you didn’t.”

Head hanging down, you close your eyes. The pain of your decision is unavoidable. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to come with me,” you mumble but Nat’s ear is trained on your every breath and she picks up every word clearly.

“Why not?” She sounds extremely offended.

“Because you deserve better than to uproot your whole life for me.”

Two fingers grab at your chin forcing you to raise your gaze to her. “I would’ve followed you anywhere.”

You close your eyes, in pain but her soft fingers move to your jaw then your cheek, and finally, relief floods you. “I’m so sorry,” you say again and her cold hand presses against your skin more firmly.

“I know you are.”

If you shed tears then, and hide them against her legs as you wrap yourself around every part of her you can reach from your position on the floor, she doesn’t mention it.

“I wanna stay here with you,” you sob with your head on her lap. Her fingers card slowly through your hair in a soothing manner.

“Now, I know you do.”

You don’t move for a long time even after you’ve calmed down and your tea has gone cold.

And she is ready to stay here with you like this for as long as you need.

Something you should’ve done for her all along.

But maybe it’s not too late, yet.

[esta-elavaris]

Tagged by @wanderdreamer thank you 💜💜

Favorite Color: if we're just going by the ones I wear the most, black, green, red, and gold. Big fan of the red nails and red lipstick combo. This is just a tricky one, though, because I'm a fan of every colour in the right context. But I'm a big ol' goth so that influences things lolol.

Last Song: Passion's Killing Floor - HIM (god, Ville Valo's lyrics tho)

Last Movie: Last Night in Soho -- this is a weird one for me because uhhh like the protagonist I absolutely did not Do Well when I went to uni in London from a personal standpoint, so watching it always brings that back, but it's such a good movie.

Currently Watching: I've been slowly picking my way through Snowpiercer with a one episode per night at most pace. I watched the first ~season and a half a little over a year ago so it's been fun to come back to! I'm so bad for "watching" things by putting them on as background noise while I write, and then I have no idea what's actually going on, so it's been a nice change of pace to actually just sit and properly watch something for an hour each evening.

Other Stuff I Watched This Year: The Great, which I really enjoyed once I got used to the tone of it. I also keep meaning to catch up with Peaky Blinders, but it's one of those that you really have to properly watch and like I said I'm bad at that. I also want to rewatch Outlander from the beginning before I get into the new and final season, so that could be a good background noise shout! Also slowly getting into The White Lotus. And I finally completed the Sopranos this month, after swearing I would for years and somehow (?!?!) managing to avoid spoilers for the ending.

Oooo also the Serpent Queen! Didn't expect to enjoy that one as much as I did!

Shows I Dropped This Year: There've been quite a few but I could not name them because I tend to get 30 mins in, realise every character could die in the next scene and I would not care, and that's that. The Last of Us fell victim to that. I got to a point where I was so bored and only watching it for the hype, which is no reason to do anything you don't enjoy.

Currently Reading: God, getting a Switch lite decimated my previously very good reading habit this month, but I'm getting back into it. Currently rereading The Two Towers (just finished the Helm's Deep chapter), and reading David Goggins' second book for the first time. I like having a non-fiction one on the go because I always find it inspiring, whereas fiction is just pure escapism for me 💜

Thank you for the tag! I enjoyed it!

Tagging @ass-deep-in-demons, @neverisle, @scyllas-revenge, @quillofspirit and @trenko-heart

[whataboutmyfries]

✩The Bedtime story Project✩

Hello everyone! welcome to the first edition of the bedtime story project! This started out as a little selfish endeavor to find some short, fluffy goodness to read as a bedtime story and here we are! This is a collection of all of the lovely fics that you folks have recced (along with some of my own finds sprinkled in) that I put together in the hopes of helping someone else find a little bedtime story too! Ft shorter(ish) fics, tooth-rotting fluff and so much love :)

~

AFTG

✩ The hunger at the heart of me by foxdemon13 (Andreil | T | 7.4K)

There is a board in the local library where everyone can leave a note. Andrew decides to reply to a particularly assholish one. He didn't expect this to turn into sharing truths with a complete stranger he has never seen. He expected falling for him even less.

Utterly delightful, fluffy Andriel with references to lovely books that made me grin like a dope, soft and fluffy to the most <3 recced by @onbeinganangel

✩Waiting up for better things by @fuzzballsheltiepants (Andreil | M | 12.7K)

Neil Josten has an actual life. A job. An apartment. A cat. Friends. A legal passport with his legal name. He entertains himself by casually stalking a singer at a local coffee shop. It’s comfortable. Safe. Something he never thought he’d have.

It doesn’t feel real.

A decade ago, Abram found a boy with a guitar on a high school rooftop. And now he would do anything to feel that real again.

Inspired by ‘Safe’ by All Time Low.

One of my own finds! utterly delightful musician!Andrew au, I love it to bits.

Wolfstar

✩Sleepover by @msalexwp (T: rated by me)

so so cute, so fluffy, Sirius realising he's in love with Remus ft Remus wearing Sirius's clothes and so many cuddles <333

✩Palm kissing by @fruitcoops (T: rated by me)

Tw: minor injury, with Sirius talking care of Remus and Remus being a simp SO good

✩Spring, Summer, Winter, Fall Sirius is in love by @msalexwp (T | 1.8K)

A year in the life of Sirius being head-over-heals in love with a golden angel from heaven by way of Wales, Remus Lupin.

One of my absolute favourite pieces this month. It made my entire week and I still think of it from time to time. wonderfully written and delightfully cozy

Drarry

✩Just Stay by @nv-md (M | 2.7K)

Harry's been injured yet again, and Draco has to stay the night to take care of him. Which shouldn't be a problem, except Draco's in love and Harry's half-naked.

So so so cute, I loved every single second. Warm and comforting and so much like a drarry hug, I love it so much

✩Even children get older by louisfake (M | 4.5K)

It started with don't wake the baby.

Oh my GOSH I love a good drarry + teddy fic and this one did it in all of the best ways, perfect for the Christmastime feels :) recced by @nv-md

✩Fruit stand by @drarrily-we-row-along (T: rated by me)

Oh my gosh. oh my GOSH. So I've absolutely rampaged through this lovely author's masterlist. I am so grateful to @phoebe-delia for introducing me to this tooth-rotting, heart-warming work :)

~

Thank you so much to everyone that sent in recommendations and thank you so much to all the wonderful authors for putting their lovely works out into the world <3 There are a bunch more recs that I haven't included in this post, but I plan on including them in the next ones! Thank you, lovely reader for going through my first ever reclist! feel free to come yell about these lovely works with/at me, and you can send in your recs on the comments of this post, or my inbox!

happy reading!