#w how they were raised/who they are now and how they present themselves which seems to be in contradiction to WHO they are

[moe-broey]

Okay now for something Different. Or the same. Who knows. But entirely for my own enrichment purposes.

For Moe, a transmasculine character who, despite its flamboyancy and androgyny, is solidly exclusively Some Guy in identity just with a lot of extra steps (and can get really dysphoric if interpreted Incorrectly). For Moe, all of this considered/factored in, to have a fairy Resplendent, which seems to be an all-girls club.

The goodness in your heart aside that may wish well for Moe and its fate. Is it giving Women and Thems, conflating nonbinary/genderqueer identities with being afab and therefore "woman-lite", which inherently alienates anyone who falls outside of that whether it be due to identity (Moe's case, it WILL fucking kill you), presentation or sex assigned at birth. Or can Moe just serve cunt in peace with its complicated relationship with femininity (both what was enforced and coerced upon it and how it currently defies and defiles it). Thematically, can Moe serve cunt in peace?

[posttexasstressdisorder]

The GOP’s 43-year tax-cuts-for-billionaires-while-we-ignore-the-needs-of-the-country grift has an analogy in condos and homes across America that might help voters understand how it works and how they’ve gotten away with it.

Fully 84 percent of all homes and apartments built and sold in 2022 came with a homeowner’s association (HOA), and an estimated 27 percent of all homeowners nationwide currently live in a property controlled by an HOA.

And many are very unhappy about the experience.

According to a survey by Rocket Mortgage, only 47 percent of HOA residents think their HOA has made their community better, only two-thirds (64%) believe their HOA “honestly handles its finances,” and one in ten people nationwide who have an HOA cite the HOA itself as their main reason for moving.

How and why is this?

Louise and I have lived in five communities with HOAs in two different states. Three (including where we now live) were well managed, kept up the community, and set aside money from the dues every month for the inevitable future maintenance. I was on the board of one of them. The other two ran, essentially, a shell game or reverse Ponzi scheme, which led us to eventually quit those communities and move.

READ: Deep-red 'Republican stronghold' thought to be 'easy win for Trump' is now a swing state

I remember attending a board meeting in one of those “shell game” HOA communities we’d lived in. There were multiple common-area maintenance issues needing attention, but a group who called themselves “low-tax conservatives” had run the board for over a twenty years.

There was almost nothing in reserves, so maintenance had been continuously postponed until things hit a crisis level. Then they’d hit us all with a series of “special one-time assessments” ranging from a few hundred to a few thousand dollars to pay for the upkeep. They refused to raise the monthly HOA fee, referring to it as a tax, because, they said, they were “low-tax conservatives”; in fact, they were just cheapskates.

That HOA board had been, in the past and the present, stealing from future homeowners.

They did it so they could enjoy the community during the first 30 or so years — when maintenance costs were minimal — without setting aside money for the future, when things would rot or wear out and need replacement or upgrade.

For the first three decades, they were able to coast with $200/month in dues and no assessments; by the time we arrived when the units were pushing 35 years old, though, the assessments were hitting $3000 to $9000 a year, and, when the buildings’ roofs need repair (soon) it’ll be twice that amount or more.

Fortunately, once we saw the handwriting on that particular wall we were able to sell our condo and move to a well-run community. Americans, though, don’t have that option: Republicans have been running this same shell game or reverse Ponzi scheme against all of us (except the very rich) across the entire country ever since Reagan successfully pitched trickle-down economics to the nation in 1981.

If you’ve ever lived in one of these shell game HOA’s, you now perfectly understand Reaganomics and why it seems that America has deteriorated so badly over the past 40 years.

You could call it the disaster of pothole economics: all across America, roads, bridges, water systems, schools, and other vital public infrastructure have been underfunded and neglected ever since Reagan popularized the idea of “austerity” among Republicans.

In order to pay for the second most massive tax cut for the morbidly rich in history (Reagan cut the top tax bracket from 74% down to 25%), his administration cut spending on education, housing, roads and bridges, and pretty much every other aspect of America’s infrastructure. George W. Bush did the same thing, and Donald Trump tripled down on the scheme.

The result was a $51 trillion transfer of wealth — over a mere forty-three years — from the homes, retirement accounts, and savings of average working families into the money bins of the extremely wealthy. Thirty-four trillion of that transfer show up as our national debt, which was a mere $800 billion ($0.8 trillion) when Reagan first came into office and started this scam.

President Joe Biden and his Vice President, Kamala Harris, ran the first administration of either party to significantly repudiate Reagan’s neoliberalism by injecting trillions into rebuilding our nation (over 35,000 projects) while raising taxes on rich people and corporations to pay for it.

The result was immediately visible, just like in the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s: we now have the best economy on planet Earth with unemployment lower than any time since the 1960s (and lower than any time in history for women, Blacks, and Hispanics). Inflation has been at or below 0% for the past two months and is annually running around 3% (Reagan never got inflation below 4.1% in his entire 8 years); all across America we’re putting our rural areas, towns, and cities back together.

For the past forty years, Republicans and their administrations have focused almost entirely on taking cash away from working class people and handing it off to the billionaires who own and finance their party. At the top of the list of ways they did this was a series of five tax cuts for the morbidly rich and big corporations adding up to over $30 trillion since 1981.

But they’ve also been cutting spending to compensate for their tax breaks for the billionaire class: They blocked extending the child tax credit this year, throwing millions of American children back into poverty. They’ve fought lifting the cap on Social Security taxes so people making over $168,600 will begin paying on all of their income (millionaires and billionaires currently pay only a tiny fraction of the percentage to support Social Security that the rest of us do).

Fully 100% of congressional Republicans voted against Biden’s Build Back Better program that’s now putting America back together and his American Rescue Plan that lifted millions out of poverty and put millions more back to work. They successfully blocked the Paycheck Fairness Act that would have penalized employers for wage discrimination based on gender; they’ve refused to expand Medicaid in almost a dozen Red states; they even filibustered an attempt to raise the minimum wage from $7.25 to $10.10.

For the past forty-plus years, Republicans — just like these dysfunctional HOAs — have been stealing from America’s future; our infrastructure deficit alone is several trillion dollars, meaning Americans will be paying more in taxes to make up for all those decades of neglect.

Democrats want those tax increases to hit people earning over $400,000 a year; Republican tax proposals, on the other hand, mostly focus on increasing income taxes and fees on working class people while continuing or even expanding tax breaks for the very wealthy.

One of the “low tax” HOAs we used to live in, instead of raising their monthly fee or instituting an assessment, recently negotiated a million-dollar-plus 20-year loan with people’s properties as the collateral to fund painting and repairing serious rot on the buildings.

This should have been paid for with an increase in HOA fees twenty years ago, anticipating the future maintenance and upkeep needs.

But instead they kept the fee low, never built up a reserve, and are now borrowing from the bank. In other words, they’re continuing the all-too-common HOA board scam of requiring future generations to pay for current repairs, just like the GOP budget proposals we’ll see when they return from summer vacation in September will require future generations to pay for their past tax cuts.

It’s the equivalent of Reagan, Bush, and Trump jacking up the national debt to keep things glued together, forcing future generations to pay it off when the bill comes due, while their wealthy corporate funders rob us blind.

Homeowners across America are waking up to these toxic HOA boards, as social media sites for HOA members are forming and local homeowner uprisings are happening against boards, either replacing the board members or, in some cases, even suing them. Some states are even starting to require they build up reserves for future maintenance.

Hopefully, Americans will realize how successfully Republicans have inflicted this very same scam on voters and working class people over the past forty-plus years and vote the bums out this fall.

ALSO READ: Mike Johnson's now-deleted Trump social media post sparks controversy

[tmwcs]

ok but imagine demon! heeseung and angel! beomgyu, but heeseung is actually very kind (when he's not inside you 😀) and beomgyu is actually far from innocent

mind goes brrr

Warnings: Demon HS, angel Beomgyu, smut, unprotected smut, oral sex (male receiving), near death experience, Beomgyu is a perv, and HS is both....a softy....and hard dom! total switch.

@0x1dazed - enjoy 😉

"Shoot! I'm going to be late."

Waiting for the signal to change, you await while watching the cluster of vehicles drive pass. The light flashes, signaling that you now have the right of way to walk through the crosswalk. Halfway through, you heard the screams of screeching tires as the smell of burnt rubber suddenly fills the air; your life flashes before your eyes when a red sports car slides in your direction. Having lost control over the vehicle, a female driver with a male passenger by her side, threw their phones up in the air as they tried to react in time to avoid the collision, which would no doubt result in your death. The price to pay for their careless mistake and lack of attention to the road.

Or it would have been, had you been left to brace and take on the impact of the steel frame, the red hood, and the shattered glass. Yet all was well when you found yourself suddenly out of place. Looking around at your surroundings, the area was different. Where were the bustling streets? The neon street signs? The overbearing crowd of people, and the traveling vehicles? Where was the industrial infrastructure? The steel frames of the buildings, and the modern architecture?

Rubbing your temples, your eyes winced shut as you count to ten in your head, only to become reacquainted with the satin grayed room. The silk tapestries reflected a darker mauve hue, while the embroidered thread on the wallpaper was as silver as the metal itself. There were no windows, and no doors that you could see, which compelled you to grow anxious. How are you going to leave? Where do you begin to figure out where exactly you are?

The last image that flashed through your mind was the red coupe flinging its way over to you, with the driver frantically screaming and waving her hands around, looking just as fearful as you. Could it be possible that you......

"You didn't die."

A male voice stuns you out of your thought process and triggers you to turn towards him.

"I-I'm sorry?"

Flashing a dashing smile, he walks over and stands beside you, facing the large oil painting hanging on the wall. "I said, you didn't die." he reiterates softly, glancing a quick side eye before turning back and continues to study the large art piece.

"W....who are you?....Do you know where we are?"

"Yeah, you're in Oecus Altair."

Confused, you shifted your eyes before you stuttered and bid for him to elaborate. "The what?"

"It means The Hall of the Flying Eagle. This is where the old Gods used to collect themselves and hold their councils."

Turning your attention to the painting, you catch yourself following his lead as you take time to admire the fine details of the portrayal of what seemed to be the Gods of Olympus, paying respects to one particular figure that was well known throughout mythology, Zeus.

By the raging strike of lightning balled in his grasp, you figured it had to be the King of Gods himself, raising a fist of glory or victory it seemed like, while his brethren, sisters, and all the demigods encircled his magnificent form and awe towards his awesome power.

"....How did I get here?" You asked the young man, unsure who he was or where he came from, yet you figured he had the answers that could aid your release from this unknown place, and help you return to the city.

"He brought you here....I was told to watch after you until he returns."

"He?"

"My brother."

"B-brother?"

Startling you, a deeper voice emerges from afar, chiming in the conversation. "Yes, that is correct. Younger brother, but not by much."

Presenting himself, the slightly taller male stands before you and flashes a deviously handsome smile. He was dressed fashionably Victorian and reminded you of a prince as he donned a coat of beige, embroidered in gold threaded accents, and a pair of black trousers with knee high boots to match. The frills of the satin white shirt under his royal cloth delicately peeks out from his sleeves, and above the top button on his chest. He  issues a bow, excelling in perfect form and poise, before re-engaging eye contact. 

“Oh, here we go….” the other brother huffs out as he rolls his eyes. “Could you stop with that?” 

The brazen elder walks to his younger brother’s side and rests a bent elbow on his shoulder. “I’m Beomgyu, and this is Heeseung. Now that we’ve introduced ourselves, can you take your dress off? I wanna see what it looks like under there….let me find out.” he issues as he bites his lip. 

Reaching up from behind, the younger of the two, Heeseung, smacks his palm atop Beomgyu’s head and peels him back, flinging him behind towards the wall. “Don’t mind him, he’s a bit of a pervert I’m afraid. Good fellow….just too sordid.”

“Like it’s my fault!” Coming back up to his spot, Beomgyu takes his stance next to Heeseung, policing himself up as he straightens his attire from the toss. He was quite the opposite from his sibling, wearing all black with a dark green coat that also resembled a Victorian flare. He was definitely much more outspoken and haughty, yet something about his personality was seemingly adorable. With Heeseung, he was dashing and smooth in the deliverance of chivalry and his vocabulary. Both men were strange and unlike anyone you’ve ever met before. 

“I’m sorry….I don't mean to be rude but…can you both tell me how I may leave? I have to get back.” Nervously chuckling, you crossed your arms and began to shut yourself away as you bid them to honor your request. 

“Well, there are two ways you can leave here…” Heeseung calmly states as he shifts his gaze over to the side. “One way is to just leave through that door right there…” Pointing beyond where you stood, you turned and found a door lodged into the wall. It was peculiar since just a moment ago, the door wasn’t there. Turning back around, you look at Heeseung with a questioning gaze. “Was…..did you put that there?” you softly asked as you delicately pointed to the door behind you. 

“I didn’t.” He smiles softly as he gently shakes his head. “The door just wasn’t visible until now.” 

Shrugging your shoulders, you asked him to elaborate the other option. “What is the other way of getting out of here?” 

“Well….before we get to that, let me explain what happens if you choose to go through the door…” Heeseung calmly spoke out as he took you by the hand. HIs skin was so smooth and he smelled of lavender, guiding you over to a gray loveseat, made of velvet, he sat you beside him as he cups your hand with both of his, warming them. “Cold?” 

You nodded hesitantly, watch as he softly breathes out and warms the back of your palm. It was only one exhale, and targeted directly to your hand, yet the moment it hit your skin, your entire body felt warm and soothing, almost as if you were sitting by a fire. 

“That’s –...how did you do that?” you inquire as you admire your hand and look around you. Smirking, he rests his elbow on his lap and strokes his chin as he takes in your features. “We’ll get to that here in a minute.” he softly speaks, reaching up with his free hand he gently tucks the strands of your hair behind your ear. 

“Going through the door will take you back to the place from where you came, the problem is-”

“The problem IS that you’ll be taken right back to the very spot where we plucked you out of. In your case, you’d go right back in front of that colliding vehicle and probably die.” Beomgyu boldly confirms as he makes his way over to the loveseat, and rests his boot on the arm closest to you. Leaning his forearms on his thigh, he relaxes in a slightly hunched form while staring deeply into the slight bit of cleavage that is exposed from your subtle neckline. 

Rolling his eyes, Heeseung shook his head faintly as he rubbed his temples. “....you idiot…” 

“What? It's the truth!”

“You don’t have to be so…nevermind.” Heeseung gives up and continues to explain the alternative option of gaining back your freedom, one without you dying. “The other way to leave here, is to please the descendants of the Gods.”

Confused, you looked up, shifting your sights between the two men. “Please?....In what manner?” 

“Like, sexual intercourse is a good one.” Ever as unfiltering, Beomgyu scoff’s out his defining example, causing Heeseung to snap his fingers towards him, gesturing for the young man to quiet himself.

“I’m sorry about him…” Heeseung states as he glares over to his elder brother.

"As ill mannered that came out to be, he isn't’ wrong. That is one way. It’s the most assuring way for you to get back safely. ” Heeseung delicately states as he takes your hand once more, rubbing the back of your palm with his thumb. 

“What?! I can’t do that! I don’t…what is this? Who are you? What does this…please tell me this is all a dream.” You rock your head back and forth as you rub your head. 

“But it’s not! Come on girl, it’s not like you’re a virgin, we know everything about you. We get it, you’re not a whore and you consider yourself a “respectable” woman, but give it up if you want to live.” 

“Beomgyu….”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” 

Comforting you with his embrace, Heeseung hugs you softly as he narrows his gaze over to his brother. 

Descendants of Gods? What or where exactly are you? How could such a place be real where such a demand exist and becomes a mandatory option for a woman to free herself from this….this….

“Come on! It’s not like you’re in prison. What do you say?” Beomgyu bids, tilting his head and yearning for you to answer. 

“O-okay…..fine. Who..who are the descendents?” 

Both men share a gaze and blink before looking back at you. “Uh….it’s us….” Beomgyu states offensively. “We’re the descendents. The last ones in fact.” 

Wide eyed and shocked, you bury your face into both your palms. “.....This can’t be happening….” you mumbled into both hands. 

“Well sis, it is. So what’s it going to be? The door, or us?” 

You shoot out a faint glare at the young man and express with a slight bit of attitude as you come to a breaking point of the man’s vulgar behavior. “Obviously...I don't have much of a choice…at least you’re not leaving me any. But could you be just a little more compassionate? It’s not like I do this sort of thing on the regular.”  

Pulling you back into his chest, Heeseung swoops his hand over your neck and gently strokes your shoulder as he tenderly caresses you. “Don’t mind him. We know you’re not that type of woman, and we wish there was another way but we don’t make the rules. This is something that was established well before our time.”

Sighing, you grew curious and asked about their lineage. “So….who are you two? Where do you both come from?”

“We’re sons of the Archangel Michael, you heard of him yeah? He was also a descendent of the old Gods, and we both are his only heirs.” Beomgyu explains as he stretches his arms, cracking his neck, a pair of lush, silver and white-feathered wings extend from his back and graciously decorates his frame. 

“...I didn’t know angels were so…petulant.” you spoke in humor as you admired the shine of the transparent features, they were beautiful and magnificent.

“Well we are.” Beomgyu responds back in slight annoyance, placing his hands on his hips as he rolls his eyes faintly. “I’m the angel, whereas Heeseung here is-”

Cutting his older brother off, Heeseung’s wings shoot out from his back, gently draping over his shoulders. They were matte black, nearly dark purple and hued out a velvet texture, reflecting a sinful glow that twinkled with each feathered strand. 

“A-are you…?” Too caught up with the beauty of his Godly appearance, your question remained incomplete. Nodding, he smiles softly as he strokes his chin. “Yes beautiful…I’m the son of the Archangel Michael, and my mother was a demoness. Although, out of the two, her bloodline runs strong…it’s like that with all Hellish creatures, so I take after her quite a bit.” 

“And that’s why he resides in the scorching regions of Hell and rules over it.” Beomgyu teases in a cocky manner. 

This was so strange. The two men appeared to be the exact opposite of one another, not only that, but out of the two, Heeseung seemed far more fitting as an angel, whereas Beomgyu gave off the essence of a perverse demon, yet that wasn’t the case. Looking at them, not all was what it seemed. 

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and sighed out once more. “Okay…so what do I do? So I can leave here in one piece.” 

“Do you know how to use that pretty mouth of yours?” Beomgyu winks out, clearly excited and eager to get things started. 

“Will you stop?” Heeseung glares once more towards his sibling. 

“Come on Heeseung. It’s not like we’re forcing her. Look, why don’t I go first, and then you can take her after?” 

Heeseung shakes his head out of bitter annoyance, before turning back to you. “Will that work for you?” 

Nodding in the affirmative, you looked over to Beomgyu, who raises his brows in excitement upon making eye contact. “..uh…yeah…i guess.” you answered, not entirely sure how you were going to be able to perform. This entire ordeal was making you more and more uncofmortable. 

“Don’t worry. Despite how he may come off, he really doesn’t know how to handle a woman. You’ll be able to hold the reins with this one.” Heeseung smirks out, teasingly winking. 

“Hey!” Beomgyu shouts out from the side. But leaves the conversation where it stands as Heeseung stands, helping you up and gently hands you off to the elder sibling. 

“Be nice to her, Beomgyu.” 

“Oh how rich! Coming from you.” Beomgyu scuffs out in response. 

Shooting his hand around your waist, Beomgyu immediately kisses you deeply as he holds you by your chin. His movements were sudden and a bit rough, you tried to match his stamina but it had been a while since you had done this. Not to mention, you never once experienced intimacy at random, only sharing it with a man you once loved, but offended by your gift when he abandoned your love for a woman who was far less reserved than you. Breaking your heart into two, you mourned and had ever since, made yourself unavailable to all prospects, solely focusing on your career. 

“Kiss me back.” Breaking the kiss for just a moment, Beomgyu gasps out his words before reconnecting the kiss while his hands swarm over your waist and lower back, pulling you closer. His wings softly flutter and suspend up in the air as he shifts both your bodies to a missionary position, with you on top. Laying his head on both his hands, he relaxes as he admires your suddenly nude body. 

“W-where are my clothes??” you gasped out, quickly covering your breasts as you wrap your arms around your chest, looking around and seeing that you were now in a different room, one surrounded by walls that were shrouded in satin curtains. The bed you both laid on was framed with both, a head and footboard that displayed large brass arches. 

“You’re in MY room.” Flexing his arms as he takes the bend in his elbows to a perfect angle as he readjust his head in his palms, he gently breathes out, enjoying the sensation of the cool air hitting his nudeness, while simultaneously feeling the warmth of your skin. 

Gulping, you felt far too nervous and shy as you realized that he was entirely nude underneath you. Flexing his member, it stiffens and taps against your rear end.

“What….stop!” 

“Come oooooon…..would you live a little?” he teases, grinning wide while eyeing your body. “Come here,” he whispers. Grabbing hold of your arms, he gently brings you to lean forward, and kisses you. 

Feeling his member stiffen, it didn’t feel as obscene as before due to the gentleness of his touch. His arms cradled you and his kiss was passionate and tender. Breaking the kiss, he speaks in a near whispering tone, one that was far different from the usual boldness it carried. 

“So....You never answered my question. Do you know how to use that pretty mouth of yours?” he asks, waving a soft smile. He had become different, still sordid but so much more angelic and tender. 

“I…um….if you’re referring to what I think you are….I’ve never done it before.” 

“I know.” he chuckles. “He never showed you…or rather, he never stuck around long enough to experience it with you.” 

Hearing his words cut you deep. He obviously was referring to your first love, the man whom you would have given up anything and everything, yet stranded you broken hearted for another woman. One with superficial assets and a large dowry. 

Shifting your gaze down, trying to avoid crying in front of him, you gulped and fought back the tears that began to sting your eyes. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” He softly remarks. “The man was undeserving of you, don’t let him be your downfall. Besides…I can show you. I don’t mind being your first.” Flashing a toothy grin, he cradles your head with his hands as he fingers his limbs through your hair. 

Kissing you once more, he slowly drags you lower by the hip, shifting you towards his cock. “Grab it.” he whispers out. 

Taking it in your hand, you merge lower until his impressive length rested against your chest, right in between your breasts. 

“Kiss it.” he gently tells you, still laying his head on his palms. Doing as he bids, you kiss the tip, it seemed appropriate considering it appeared swollen. Once you had pressed your lips against his skin, it felt right…so right. Instinctively, your mind and body knew what to do, and you continued to place your soft kisses, surrounding the head, lowering it down the midriff of his shaft, and finishing off by placing them on the base of his groin. 

“Thaaaaat’s it princess. Now put it in your mouth, start off with the tip of it.” he slightly chokes out, enveloped by the wonderful sensation he was feeling as you swallow the head of his member, and began sucking on it. Your tongue rolling all over its surface and the grooves of its form, you started to fit more of him in.

“Wow…you’re a natural. Don’t need me to tell you what to do now, huh?” 

Subtly shaking your head, you continue without pause. Your body just knew how to take over, and you did. You did exactly what your heart and soul told you to do, and he loved every single moment of it. Stroking in his member repeatedly, you take in saliva that droop out of the crevices of your mouth as you stretch as wide as you could to fit his girth. The scene became messy, though in the most sensual and beautiful way possible. Slurping, you pick up the pace and combine the efforts of your hand as you swirled your palm in half rotation near the base, while your mouth took on the rest. 

“Ah…good….good girl…fuck…just like that.” tilting his head back, his mouth remains wide open as he gasps out his groans. The more evident it became that he was enjoying it, the more it motivated you to continue and do more. Popping out the tip from the corner of your mouth, you lightly tap the tip of his bulge against your tongue, moaning as you stuffed him back inside and twirled your tongue along the grooves of veins and muscle that decorated it. 

“Oh shit…” he gasped out, quickly shifting his hands and establishing a grip on the sides of your head as he pinned you down, forcing you to take all of him in. Your gag reflex becomes triggered, yet you hold yourself well by steadying yourself as you taste the saltiness of his essence coating the muscles of your throat. His cock twitches against your tongue, and slowly, he lifts your face up and away, allowing you to relax your jaw. Fully exiting your mouth, he chuckles out and re-establishes his comfy position. 

“You did well. It’s too bad old boy left when he did, he’s missing out.” 

A small smile forms on your face as you hover over his body and crawl towards his face. Kissing him, you were slowly reaching down for it, preparing to take him in once more, when his hand gently grabbed onto yours.

“As much as I want to…angels are not allowed.” with a disappointing look on his face, he gives off a half smirk as he shifts his gaze onto the ground. “It’s a rule…only archangels, one like my father, have the freedom to do so. It’s a status that I have yet to gain, but will someday.” shifting his gaze back up to meet your eyes, he shoots his hands around your waist. “When I do…might come and find you again.” He states before kissing you once more, when suddenly you felt the room spinning and a moment of pure darkness shrouds you. The instant the air clears, you find yourself in another room, one that was much different from Beomgyu’s personal palace. The walls were draped with black satin, matching the black silk of the bedding, which was all framed by brass ornaments that displayed symbolic Gothic theme’s. 

“Did you have fun with Beomgyu?” his voice shoots from behind as he walks up, admiring your nude body as you attempt to cover yourself with the sheets. 

“Um…yeah…learned a thing or two…” you jest as you look up at him. Shocked, you slightly gasped out as you saw a change in Heeseungs demeanor, his face was much more stern. His eyes were fierce, and darkened with a sense of dominance and lust like you have never seen before. Biting down on his lip, he flares off a look of hunger and desire, it was far too intense. You couldn’t help but think that the white and gold coat of his suddenly looked far too light for his countenance. 

Sitting next to you, he raises a hand and gently tucks your hair behind your ear once more. “Scared?” he asks. 

Trying to steady your breath, your chest heaves deeply as you glance over from the side and look at him. His smirk was devious and rather eerie, but still dashing. Softly chuckling, he leans in and aims for your neck. With long strokes of his tongue, and the latching of his lips, he soothes your neck line with the tenderness of his mouth. Your breathing calms down, until he starts to grab on to your waist, pulling you in against him as he kept on with feasting on your throat. 

“H-Heeseung….” you whimpered out. 

“Shhh…enjoy it.” with one final kiss on your smooth skin, he darkly whispers. “I know I will.” 

Your body is suddenly suspended and laid back on the bedding as his weight lays atop you the missionary position. Just like his elder brother, his clothes vanish in a blink of an eye, and you feel the coolness of his skin as he drapes over your body. His wings remain extended out, and flaps vigorously as he traps you in his arms. He was demanding and strong, yet with the way he slightly dipped his hips low and waved them against your groin, you found yourself to be less scared and more focused on his touch. Whimpering out his name, he hushes you tenderly. 

“Shh…pretty girl…I’ll make you feel like a queen.” Kissing you, he gently bites down on your lip. “We’re going to fuck just like demons do.” With one last kiss, he props himself on his knees, and swings your leg over, forcing you to lay on your side. He grabs onto your rear cheek, and slowly, he inserts himself. “It’s been a while, but I promise you I aint rusty.” he teases, pushing the tip of his throbbing cock in. You quickly deduced that despite being the younger of the two, and a demon, Heeseung’s size was supreme. Beomgyu’s length and girth was absolutely nothing to scoff at, in fact, he was perfect. But with Heeseung, you now know that there was going to be pain with pleasure as you felt the tear of your stretch while enveloping his length. Jutting in, he continues to push through the friction of your entry as he finally mashes the base of his groin and testicles against your folds. 

“Oh wow…you feel really nice.” he gasps out, eyeballing you as he raises his eyebrows in surprise. “All the way in princess…you ready?” he cocks out as he bites down the corner of his lip. You weren’t sure if he was genuinely asking, or if he really did care, nonetheless, you hesitantly nod and felt the shoretend sense of relief as he starts to slide out, only to ram himself back in with a vengeance. 

Thrusting violently, he goes in hard and deep, not at all starting off with a slow or gentle pace. Bucking his hips with high energy, he slaps into your rear cheek as he throbs and twitches his cock inside, making sure you get the full effect. 

“Ah! Please! N-not….not too rough! Ugh! You’re breaking me!” 

“Aww…too much baby?” he teases. Leaning in, burying his member deep inside, he shoots out a ball of spit on your cheek, only to lick it back up before whispering in your ear. “You like it…don’t you?” the tone in his voice was dark…too dark. 

“You miss being fucked…dont you? Come on baby, say it. I know you’re dark and nasty….” 

Feeling how deep his cock was reaching, he rotates his hips as he drills himself deeper. Too deep. 

“How badly do you wanna get fucked baby?”

Gaining enough stamina to issue a voice, you caved in. He was right, just because you weren’t spreading yourself thin among the male populace, it didn’t mean that when alone, and at night, your thoughts grew wild and you yearned for someone like him to plunge into you. He was ruthless, dementing, and brutal with his performance….and it was exactly what you needed. 

“Yes…yes….”

“Yes what?” He smirks as he bids you to elaborate.

“Yes….please…please fuck me…oh God….fuck me hard.”

Leaning all of his weight on top, he cradles his arms at the sides of your head and kisses you. The kiss was the only tender nature of his performance, everything else was grim and cruel. “Come here baby, let me give you just what you need.” he whispers out, firmly grabbing hold of your neck and starts back up in thrusting. Each time he thrusted his cock back in, you nearly saw stars. He was going in so hard, so fast, and was animalistic. Digging his fingernails in, he leaves his mark along your neckline while he harshly sucks your breasts. He fucked you, for who knows how long, all you knew and cared about was that he kept going. 

Flipping you over, he raises your hips and smacks your derriere, before placing a dozen kisses on each cheek. “Tell me how badly you want it.” Admitting another slap, he watches your rear end jiggle as your body shakes from the rigorous effects of his harshness. 

“Ugh! I want it…I want it so bad…please…please…do everything to me.” 

Slapping his hand on the back of your neck, he latches a new hold on you as his free hand grips your waist, keeping you still as he slides right back in. Watching your rear end pop against his groin from the hard smacks, he fucks…and fucks….and fucks. He pumps his cock deep, and flexes it while it rests inside. He expands your walls and tears you open more and more, until finally…

“Fuck!!” slapping his hands on your waist, he leans forward and rests his forehead against your back, his mouth gasps open as his lips gently brush against your skin. Pushing out the last drop of his seed, he slowly exits from your cavity, yet remains holding you still to admire the pure white thickness that oozes out of your slit. 

“Beautiful.” he softly remarks. Dropping his weight back down on you, he spoons you from behind and nibbles on your ear. Catching your breath, you commit a half turn to face him. “So….is that it? Will I be able to go home now?”

Keeping his eyes closed, he keeps himself in the state of relaxation as he hugs you. “Mmhmm…soon.” 

Shifting your gaze down, you felt the need to get up and move, yet there was a sliver of your heart that didn’t want this moment to end. Not with Heeseung, or Beomgyu. Resting your head against your elbow, you let out a bittersweet sigh. 

Reaching around, gently tapping the tip of your nose, Heeseung rests the tip of his finger against your lips before mumbling into the smooth silky strands of your hair. 

“If you’re not against the idea…and are over the fool that deserted you….maybe I’ll come visit you….tell you more bedtime stories.” 

You laughed a little, before he continued. “Maybe I’ll show you some magic tricks…and teach you some things that Beomgyu can’t.” 

Sensing the looseness of his demonic presence, you felt that he was coming back to that gentle and kind being that he was when he introduced himself. “We’ll see…maybe…” you softly respond back with, flaring your own teasing sense into your words.

Chuckling, he slowly wraps his arm around your waistline.

“Or maybe…” Licking the helix of your ear, he whispers as he reaffirms his grasp around your neck.

...........

“I just won't let you go home tonight…” 

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

[cersworld]

scene ³⁰

y/n has had just about enough with the general public and their inability to keep their thoughts and opinions to themselves. park jisung likes to think he's living his best life, which he kind of (definitely) is(n't).

park sunghoon likes to portray himself as someone calm and collected, someone who has their life together; he likes to pretend he’s everything he's not. luckily, sim jaeyun seems to be with him every step of the way.

WARNINGS: swearing, angst, mild violence, stereotyping, queer characters, emotional vacancy (she can't express her emotions well, outwardly), jay is definitely presented as the bad guy so be warned, a lot of feels, identity crises (not really?), inappropriate jokes (sexual and worrying *cough* eg. ED/binging, alexithymia *cough*), etc.

TAGLIST: @prettysung @polarisjisung @spiderrenjunfics @glamourizz @xxxx-23nct

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

At 8.45, about 20 minutes into the students' first period, which in the case of Jisung's class is biology, the principal finds the young TA loitering around the halls pretending to be busy. In his defence, class 2-5's homeroom and maths teacher hadn't shown up to school, leaving him with no one to shadow and about 15 kids to take care of for the day.

The much older man catches him just as he’s about to head into the teachers’ office to look through the lesson plan for maths today. The man stops him, with a hand on his upper arm, a smile and a nod in the opposite direction to tell him to follow him outside.

And now Jisung is stressed. More stressed than he was the morning of his first day at university, more stressed than when he had to get his dream uni timetable with no classes on wednesday and no large gaps between classes in as soon as registration opened, more stressed than when he spent months trying to figure out why y/n broke up with him.

Okay, no that’s a stretch and a definite lie but the point’s still there. He was stressing, big time.

“Kid, I can see you overthinking. It’s all over your face.” The man snorts, “You’re not losing your job. Relax.”

“Oh, haha…” Jisung awkwardly laughed, looking everywhere but at him.

“Okay look, I’ll get right to the point here,” He began, suddenly going back to looking strict and composed, “From next week, you’re going to be that class’ official homeroom and maths teacher, got it?”

Jisung choked, eyes widening, “W-what?” He fumbled, not knowing what to say, “What about Mr Lee? I- I’m not qualified to teach yet!”

The man sighed, “Mr Lee suddenly decided to retire. And he absolutely refuses to come in for these last few weeks no matter what we offer him. There’s nothing else we can do.”

“B- but what about the kids? They’re about to go into their senior year, they need a teacher!”

The principal let out an abrupt laugh, “Those kids? They couldn’t care less about their education, they just need to pass. They’re all either about to be idols or are already idols so they’re already set. All you need to do is make them pass.” Then he paused like he was just remembering something, “Oh! Also, about half of them are foreigners from what I remember so honestly, your teaching matters even less because they don’t actually need to be here. No stress, kid. It’ll ease you into the job so you know what to expect when you get an ‘official’,” He made quotation marks with his hands, winking at him with another laugh, “job.”

Jisung just stood there, staring at the man in shock. How could a man who ran a school of thousands of kids think of some of his students like that? Like they were objects, products for his business, and not actual human beings looking at him for guidance towards success.

It irked him. A lot.

The older man didn’t wait for him to respond, seemingly already taking his silence as a positive answer and ending on a short assurance of, “And don’t worry, even if they fail, you’re still getting the pay raise so don’t stress it!” before walking away as if he hadn’t just dumped his responsibilities onto a 20 year old boy with next to no experience.

Is this even legal? Jisung wasn’t so sure it was. Both his appointment as a teacher and the principal’s use of power and social standing against him.

Sigh. And that's how Park Jisung became an 'official' teacher in one of South Korea's finest education institutions at only 20 years old.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

prev | masterlist | next

[wiedzmacienia]

tension ebbs in her shoulders, frustration creasing her features as she peers up at the major. god, sometimes she hates him. not really, not at all. but it was exceedingly annoying when he proved right and in this instance he was in a way that maybe he doesn't even realize how deeply his words are true for her. her devotion to god wouldn't matter to people in a town that knew no better than to fear magic, to fear a witch. what had happened the night she had shown her magical ability had been a fluke and fears overridden by the actions she had taken to save said person from a larger evil.

would the people of that town be so welcoming to the lis family had they known who they really were behind closed doors?

no.

it didn't matter how long had passed since she'd been a girl growing up in her own village or how long had passed since what had transpired in salem, those people would do the same to them and her if given the chance to see what they were. perhaps not in such a horrific and brutal fashion, for they would show themselves as less savage in such a modern time yet the end result would remain the same. her praying, her faith in god would not matter. it was why this cause of war was so important. why she would give her life for it if need be. because to keep the secret in a way that still allowed for freedom to live normal lives, to have some form of protection, was something that her people had never truly had before.

'i do not wish…i-i do not want to see you hurt over some sort of misplaced pride. surely, you can understand that?'

while still tense something releases in her stance, a sigh escaping her. she does understand or at least understands he hadn't meant offense, that he truly was just concerned for her wellbeing. he knew what people were capable of when not confronted with the supernatural. perhaps she did not give him enough credit to the assumptions he could make of what they would be capable of if presented with such. he knew as well as she did what would happen if she used magic openly in the town. which was why she fully intended to not do so again. not that what had transpired before had been in the open per say and had cabbage man proved to turn on her rather than what he had done then perhaps his fate too would have been different in order to keep the secret. but that was irrelevant now that he had proved a friend.

"i'm not going to expose myself by using magic in front of anyone else there--" she pauses as he questions the when and where and who. "yes someone did but it doesn't matter w--" lips part to continue before the distraction of his next comment washes over her.

"i suppose he assumes we are capable of a normal conversation without quarrel for information to be shared between us." an eyebrow raise is granted him though she supposes she's really calling both herself and him out. sometimes, especially where auggie was concerned they seemed to get along swimmingly but other times they both seemed incapable of refraining from getting a rise out of the other. if they truly were meant to get through this war working together, she supposed they both needed to be more open to listening to each other and accepting they both would be taking active role in this war.

a breath is brought in then released, his answer in the affirmative and the way he speaks about the lis family allowing a little more of the tension in her to ease. he might not know what the family was but it was clear he realized they knew of her and accepted what she was and he wasn't reacting poorly to it. progress. "yes they do and they are. they are good people. their children are like alden's kids. half-magic. issac is a warlock, margaret is not but she is fully aware of what he is and who i am." her words come out careful, eyes watching his features to gauge his reaction. thus far he proved to take things in stride but she can not help the way anxiety builds in her at times like this. she watches him fidget with his saber, him revealing what plan they could use to be seen together.

"then we have a plan it would seem. or the beginning of one." a pause before she further reveals. "issac's family-- they didn't seek out to become spies for anyone but the order helped his family during conflicts in poland and his family has remained loyal to the order since and i do not take such a loyalty lightly especially when children are involved should they be discovered as spies or with magic. i will not put them in danger by doing something to expose them." she leans slightly against his desk, features scrunching up as the earlier topic of their conversation comes back to her and she realizes how her statement may sound contradictory.

"i understand how that might sound but i only used magic before because i was followed by a group of men into the woods that couldn't handle having been refused by a woman in the tavern prior. magic wasn't my first reaction to their attack. i fought like a human but then something else appeared.. something dark and supernatural and i had no choice but to use magic to protect myself and cabbage man. if i hadn't we both would have been killed and that would have been a shame because abe has proved quite a good friend and occasional spy..." she pauses looking down at the ground and frowning at the memory. that night had been long and too much death had transpired but at least she had lived and so had abe who had proved to actually accept her magic after the shock had worn off. abe. abraham. surly he couldn't be the same... and yet something in her is building toward such a realization. because it seemed to fall in line with exactly what the universe had been throwing at them recently.

now she looks up and meets the major's gaze in wonder and slight apprehension at what his reaction may be. she should be mad at cabbage man if he answers the way she thinks tallmadge will yet somehow she can't be. because of all the coincidences the universe has tossed at them, somehow this would figure. though she does think, if his abe and her abe are the same, abraham deserves a smack in the head for not telling her he was already a spy. then again, perhaps it proved just how good a spy he could be at least where secrets were involved. besides she expected both her and benjamin were asking very different things of him. "please tell me that your spy isn't my dear friend abraham wood.hull who needs magic to save his cabbages far too often for a proposed cabbage farmer."

Souring, Benjamin appraised her with mounting frustration. "Your devotion to God will not matter to those people -- not if they find out who and what you are." Lowering his voice to a hiss, he continued, "I do not say these things to wound nor offend. I'm being practical, Zyna. I do not wish...I-I do not want to see you hurt over some sort of misplaced pride. Surely, you can understand that?"

The sharpness to Katarzyna's gaze did not waver, and when she spoke of using magic, Benjamin sucked a breath through his teeth. "Where?" he demanded. "When? Did anyone see you?"

Finally, a look of bewilderment flooded across her own features, and this time when they locked eyes, he was stricken by the sudden realization that she didn't know his truth either.

With a bitter scoff, Benjamin rolled his eyes. "So," he muttered, "it would seem Washington's been withholding information from us both. Though I can appreciate the prudence of such an action, he could've at least given us the damned bare minimum."

Katarzyna revealed herself to be "Catherine Lis" in Setauket -- cousin to the Lis family -- and wide-eyed, Benjamin nodded slowly. "We're acquainted, yes," he replied. "My father is a preacher, so we make a point to know everyone in town. They're good people...kind and welcoming." Eyes scanning her face, he pressed, "Does this mean they know of you -- all of you -- and are spying for your men?"

Shaking his head, Benjamin drew back again and irritably fidgeted with the saber on his belt. "If nothing else, I can use my father's profession as an excuse," he muttered. "It wouldn't be seen as odd nor untoward if I were welcoming you to Setauket and showing you around town."

[thepenultimateword]

Ok, so since my first response to this post kinda went its own direction, I decided to give this prompt a second try. The prompt is originally by @gingerly-writing (I will write it in purple to separate it from the rest of the text).

"Oh," said the supervillain. Quietly. Too quietly. "I see. Kissing me was just a distraction."

"No! Well, yes, but...it's not like that!"

"Oh? So explain how it is. Quickly."

"Well...you see..." The supervillain's assistant fumbled for the right words. Which proved rather difficult when there seemed to be no right words to come by. How did one even begin to explain this dangerous, messy, swell of feeling expanding in their chest right now? A feeling that they still weren't sure should be encouraged or stamped out.

They'd never thought so much of themselves to imagine a relationship with the city's greatest criminal. They had been perfectly content standing on the sidelines, taking notes and fetching coffee with cream. They probably would have kept doing such, an important but unnoticed cog that kept their superior's life going smoothly. That is if it weren't for their stupid, idiot, ditz of a brother.

Their sibling had never been the brightest, sacrificing their own needs for others and putting silly morals ahead of good sense. Unlike the protagonist, who knew when to bluff and when to sell out, their brother was always so desperate to be right. As if there was even a true right in this crooked world.

And of course, they just had to go into hero work. Just had to go up against their boss of all people and put the protagonist's neck on the line. It wasn't like they were going to let the supervillain see them. Thinking back, there were probably a thousand less compromising things the assistant could have done for a distraction. Maybe that was a sign they'd been interested long before that messy, tooth-clashing first kiss. Could they sell that to the supervillain?

"Well...I did enjoy it."

The supervillain sighed, raising a crooked finger to the ever-present guards against the back wall.

"W-wait!" the protagonist cried. "I lied one time! One! As if you've never done the same!"

"My lies usually don't include so much tongue."

Their assistant blushed. "I was going for alluring. If it helps, the second kiss was more my style."

A sweet, soft thing that tasted of vanilla creamer, so much sweeter because it was alone and after hours. A coffee order that usually wouldn't have happened if the supervillain hadn't been intent on getting them on their own.

"A half-truth meant to appease me," the supervillain said with bitter-tipped nonchalance.

Maybe. The protagonist had walked into that trap willingly to keep up the pretenses of the first kiss, but they'd never planned any further than that. They certainly hadn't planned on the supervillain's clumsy small talk, or the way they held them so gently. Criminal overlords weren't supposed to be like that, were they? They were supposed to beat nobodies like them senseless for their audacity. Or use them up until they were a hollowed husk of their old self. They weren't supposed to be...cute.

"But still true," the protagonist argued. "I didn't know you would actually start to like me."

Not just cute. Soft. It was apparent within the first month that they were far more vulnerable then their villainous persona let on. 

Were they hurting a lot right now? Did the protagonist actually mean that much to them? Or was it simply the humiliation of having an employee play their feelings so effortlessly for an advantage? Had to be hard to face up to with the entire organization staring at them. They'd probably have to deal their assistant an especially hard hand to patch all the open wounds in their reputation.

"I was just trying to save someone close to me," the protagonist said, not certain whether the explanation made the situation any better. "After that, I was just trying to survive.''

"The hero."

Ah, so they did know. Probably shouldn't be a surprise seeing how they'd come to the truth in some way or another. The tone was a little strange though. They weren't quite certain whether it was jealousy or general disdain.

"How--"

"Security cameras," Supervillain said coldly. "You might have kept me from seeing them with my own eyes, but you didn't keep them off film. I didn't notice for a while; I was...otherwise diverted, but yesterday... But perhaps that was your plan all along."

The assistant couldn't hold back their scoff. "You really think I'm the type of person who can cling onto someone for literal months to hide a little recording?"

"Well, I think we've established that we don't really know each other. Apparently, you think I'm the type of person who wouldn't have taken a simple, 'I'm not interested' for an answer. You could have done it right at the start. You still would have been caught, but you would have benefited from me not feeling like this."

"How do you feel?"

Stupid. Stupid. Was that really important when the protagonist was simply trying to walk out of here alive? Why should they even care? Like the supervillain said, it wasn't like any of it was real enough to stake feelings on anyway.

They felt the the two suited security guards hovering at their back, looming and dicomfortingly close. They had paused uncertainly as the back-and-forth got started, maybe not quite sure if the signal to take the assistant away still stood. Now, finally, the supervillain gave them an unquestionably clear order.

"Go." Their voice dripped with a venom not intended for them. "I'll call if I need you."

The guards seemed almost relieved to comply, letting out held breaths and moving quickly but crisply toward the exit. 

For some reason, as the door clacked gently shut behind them, the assistant felt more nervous. Especially with the criminal's eyes burning into them like hot coals.

“You want to know how I feel?” the supervillain said.

The protagonist shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me…”

"I'm angry.”

"Understandable." The assistant flinched back a step from the furvor, though it proved pointless as the supervillain mirrored their retreat with a stalking step forward.

"And confused." 

"Of course."

"I want to tear my heart out of my chest. And yours."

The assistant blinked. That was...a reaction.

They tried shoving down some the sharp regret stabbing up through lungs, making it suddenly painful and hard to breath. So the supervillain had liked them that much. That was sort of a shame. Under other circumstances perhaps...well, it didn't matter now. They'd messed it all up. Actually, they hadn’t even really began. So they really shouldn’tbe worrying about the supervillain, they should just be worrying about themself.

"I don't know if I'm worth all that. We could just end this like two mature adults, starting with you letting me out of the building."

The supervillain narrowed their eyes. "You still haven't said it."

"What?" 

"I don't know why I expected any different. You always give me everything but a clear answer."

"I wasn't aware you asked me a question?" the assistant said, glancing over their shoulder and estimating just how quickly they could make a run for the door. 

The supervillain stepped forward, bringing their shiny black Derbys toe to toe with the assistant's ragged loafers. Nimble fingers took them by the chin, turning their face from escape to their burning carbon eyes. "Do you like me or not?"

The assistant could only stare.

"You say it was just one lie, and the way you talk doesn't close any doors, but then there's your hero and the infuriating fact that you can't come up with an ardent, overdramatic speech to salvage the relationship. I can't figure you out. Do you want out or not?"

"Wait..." the assistant held up their hands in front of them. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you not trying to kill me?"

The supervillain spluttered incredulously. "Kill you?"

"What?" the assistant cried, thoroughly confused by this point. What were the security guards and the ominous call to their office in the middle of the workday if it wasn't their life on the line?

"We kissed! I still have feelings for you! I can't kill you now. Maybe later up the road, but not anytime soon."

"You’re throwing me in secret prison then?"

"I'm only firing you."

"Oh." The protagonist took that in for a moment. "I suppose that's fair."

"Yes. The question that remains is do we continue seeing each other after I fire you? So please be explicitly clear. You like me. Yes or no?"

The protagonist hesitated, wetting their lips a moment before hesitantly wrapping their arm's around the supervillain's neck. "I thought that much was obvious."

"Clearer."

The protagonist pressed their lips softly to the supervillain's mouth.

"Clearer," the supervillain murmured, breath tickling sweet against their lips.

"I like you an extremely dangerous amount. To a point I'm afraid to say out loud. If you never say it, it never happened, right?"

The supervillain sighed. "You're the most infuriating, noncommittal... Your hero?"

"My brother."

"Your..." A burst of spontaneous laughter escaped the master criminal's previously tight lips. "I think that's the best news I've heard all day. Well, aside from that first bit."

Their hands settled warm and familiar against the small of the assistant's back, holding them firmly, yet carefully in place. 

Was it really over that fast? Could ugly, terrifying things like this actually happen and turn out ok? Hero would probably say yes. They believed in forgiveness and conquering love and all that nonsense. That wasn't what the protagonist chose when they joined this side. They chose cold, hard truth.

They pressed their palms against the supervillain's shoulders, pushing slightly back from them. "I hurt you."

It wasn't a real question, but nevertheless, the supervillain seemed to understand.

"And I'm still mad. Doesn't mean I can't enjoy the moment." Their smile faltered and their voice quieted again. "You...are telling the truth, right? Honestly?"

The protagonist's insides twisted uncomfortably, a mixture of guilt and aversion to such unfamiliar openness.

"Yes."

The supervillain nodded, enfolding them back in their arms. "I might check in with you every once in a while. Just to be sure.” 

“Yeah,” they agreed, still dazed. They pressed their face into the criminal’s shirt, breathing in the scent of fresh linen to assure themselves this was all real. “You’re really letting this go? How can you do that? How are you ever going to trust me again?”

Supervillain kissed the top of their head, a little more aggressively than normal, but still probably kinder than they deserved. “With time.”

Maybe in time they could learn to trust too.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy

[mercy-burning]

Myth or Movie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Unbeknownst to the two of them, Y/N and Spencer's children have worked up a plan to get them to meet... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, someone is misgendered (nothing too bad, it’s very brief, and it’s sincerely apologized for by the person who misgenders) Word Count: 4.2k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my 2nd entry for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) Enemies To Lover’s Writing Challenge! This one was one of the prompts she provided: You and (Character)'s kids don't get along, so you have to have a talk. Turns out you... really really get along... and I couldn’t wait to tackle it! I believe my exact words were: “I’m gonna Parent Trap these bitches”... So do with that what you will lol

———

"I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Two heads turn to stare at me as I burst through the doors. I'm out of breath from running through the building, something the staff really didn't seem to appreciate, though their shouts and annoyed glances were the last thing on my mind.

As I try to catch my breath, the two heads stand, and suddenly I feel a lot smaller.

One of them I recognize— Principal Anteros. I'd met with her before over some of Sky's academic achievements, all positive things, which is why today's circumstances make being in this office rather uncomfortable.

It's also why I seem to shrink with embarrassment at my tardiness— and appearance. Waitressing has its benefits, but today's whirlwind of phone calls and a mention at meeting another parent are not any of them.

Speaking of, the other person in the room is one I've never seen before. He's taller than both Anteros and I, extremely well dressed, and probably the most intimidatingly beautiful human being I'd ever met. I can barely meet his eyes, and so I try not to think about what he's doing here—to think about having to talk to him.

I shrink even further.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Principal Anteros greets. Thankfully she doesn't sound too upset given the circumstances. "Please, have a seat."

I do, brushing off my uniform as if that will somehow help my appearance. The soft leather of the chairs, however comfortable they might be, fail to bring me any comfort at all.

"As I'm sure you've guessed already, this is Doctor Reid, Vivian's father."

Great, he's a fucking doctor? This already bodes well for me...

Regardless of my reservations, I turn to him and give a faint smile. He waves in turn, and for the time being I'm extremely glad he doesn't insist on shaking my hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, surely nothing but a formality.

"You, too," I say quickly, then turn back to Principal Anteros. "Your phone call sounded urgent... Is everything alright?"

As soon as I say it, I feel kind of dumb. Because of course everything isn't alright. My child's principal called a meeting with another parent, and that can never mean anything good, not to mention the fucking intimidation and awkwardness in the room right now. I almost apologize, trying to explain that that wasn't exactly what I meant to get across, but then I would have just been talking for way too long, embarrassing myself further.

Once again, I'm thankful for Anteros's ability to move the conversation along. "I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem so. I only bring this to attention because Sky and Vivian are both stellar students. They've never had any disciplinary issues or difficulties with other students..."

"No one's hurt, right?" Mr. Reid asks. I know he's just concerned for his child, but for some reason it feels like an attack on me, like he assumes my kid had something to do with it.

"No, no one's hurt. Thankfully there weren't any physical altercations. But it seems your girls are quite... loud."

The doctor looks like he wants to say something, but I'm quick to jump in before he can. "Sorry... Sky is non-binary. They use they/them pronouns."

I half expect one or either of them to make a big deal or just roll their eyes at me, as most people seem to do when I correct them on the matter, but Anteros gives a sincere apology and Reid probably couldn't have cared any less.

I still can't tell if I like him or not...

But that doesn't matter right now.

"What do you mean by loud?" I continue.

Anteros sighs. "Well, while there hasn't been any physical violence, your kids seem to have very heated arguments, usually during lunch or in the hallway in passing... We thought maybe we could resolve it here since, like I said, they're both excellent students, but then it started escalating to classroom arguments... It's a lot of screaming..."

I have never known Sky to raise their voice at anyone, not even in a situation where I probably would have. Lord knows I'm thankful they don't have my impatience and tendency to get pissed off easily...

So what happened that was so bad, it made them snap?

"You... You're sure you mean Vivian is acting out like this?" Reid asks slowly, and I can't stop myself from laughing out loud.

"Come on, she's a professional. This has been going on for weeks, in her school, I'm sure she would know if it was your kid having a screaming match with someone else..."

This time Doctor Reid actually looks over at me, an eyebrow raised, and though I very much believe what I've just told him, the way he's looking at me right now drops my heart straight down to my stomach, like he's the principal and I'm the student acting out—No, it's worse than that... I feel like he's a disappointed parent, but not with Vivian, with me.

I avoid his intimidating stare and look down at the ground. "Sorry... I'm just... This isn't like Sky, either, I don't know what to do..."

"Well, usually when we have these sort of disputes, we like to have the students talk it out amongst themselves with a moderator present. But we've tried that, and it seems that they still haven't made any progress. Now, I know your children are good at heart, and it seems like you both are excellent parents— You know your children better than anyone here ever could. So, I'm proposing the two of you take a meeting some time and try to figure out how to settle this."

Seriously? If it hasn't been made clear already, this man is a doctor of some kind, planets away from my league in any capacity, and I can just picture the two of us in a screaming match close to what I imagine our children's looked like...

Maybe we can just e-mail.

"Okay," he agrees evenly, and I'm surprised he seems this calm considering I've just practically yelled at him... "I have free time this afternoon if you want to talk it over."

"I have to get back to work, but I get done at five," I sigh, wanting to get this over with. "Are you free then?"

"Mhm."

"Good," Anteros chirps, standing and leaving Doctor Reid and I to follow suit. "Perhaps over the weekend we can get this settled."

I sure as hell hope so.

———

"Ms. Y/L/N, wait!"

I have no idea what he could possibly want from me now that we've set a time and place to talk tonight, but I'm just praying desperately that he doesn't want to take this time alone in the parking lot to get back at me for accosting him in Anteros's office...

Thankfully, his face when he approaches seems rather kind.

"You can call me Y/N..."

"Right," he says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and nodding. "I'm Spencer."

"Spencer... So, um... Did you need something?"

"O—Oh, I just... I know you have to get back to work so I'll make this short, but I wanted to see if you wanted to do, uh... dinner tonight?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I just figured since we probably didn't expect for our weekend to go this way... We should make it worth it?"

"Are you really trying to turn this into a date?"

"W— No, not really, I just... You know, I thought it might be nice to... make this less like a chore, you know? A—And don't feel like you have to say yes, it was just a thought, I'm sorry if I made this weirder..."

The fact that I still can't figure this man out bothers me, but right now he's blushing, and he looks like he's trying to save himself from embarrassment, and it's so fucking adorable that I don't really care that I was just annoyed.

So I tell him, "Sure. Why not?"

"Really?"

"Yeah... Besides, Lord knows I haven't gone out for dinner in a long time."

The doctor is relieved, a smile creeping up on his lips that suddenly tugs at my insides and makes me wish for a second that it really is a date he's offering... "Okay, good. Do you want to meet at Waterstone, seven o'clock?"

The excitement starts to drain from me as he says it, followed by an incoming wave of embarrassment. "Oh, man, that... That place is kind of expensive, I don't—"

"Oh, it's okay, I'll pay for everything. I'll even wait outside for you so we can go in together if you'd like..."

Why he's being so nice to me I have no idea, but it's making my annoyance melt and my heart start to beat faster, and I really don't know how to feel about that. In fact I'm pretty sure it's weird as fuck given the circumstances.

But all I have to do is make it through this weekend, hopefully all will be back to normal, and I won't ever have to think about it ever again.

"Alright... It's a date."

———

Out of all the scenarios I'd pictured for the end of the night, this definitely had not been one of them.

I finished my shift at the diner, imagining on my drive home the look on his face when I inevitably showed up with something on my face or stained on my dress; Instead I showed up to Waterstone and was greeted with wandering eyes and showered with bashful compliments.

I expected to get into some type of argument about how each of our kids were better than the other or something, but we ended up talking through their traits with compassion, interest, and pride, all while agreeing that we just have to sit with them this weekend and explain that there are easier, better ways to sort out disagreements than screaming at each other in public.

I expected not to have much fun at all, but by the time we gathered the check and headed out the door, Spencer and I were laughing, just a little tipsy on Cabernet, our hands gently brushing and sparks shooting up my arm at the feeling.

I expected to go our separate ways and walk to my car and drive home, but instead he ended up telling me he was taking the Subway home, and I offered to give him a ride to the opposite side of town where I lived (Waterstone was right in the middle).

I expected to walk through the door, stumble straight up to bed, and sleep until Sky inevitably woke me up with them saying I've slept in too late and needed to get ready for work, but instead I ended up following Spencer up to his door to say goodnight.

And now we're at a fork in the road, and I can take one of two paths.

I can say goodnight, watch him walk in, and then go home and forget about this whole thing.

Or I can keep letting him stare at me until I find myself leaning in to kiss him. Whether or not he'll actually reciprocate is another story, but the little bit of wine tingling in the surface of my body and the dark, intense look in his eye gives me more courage than I've had since I met him.

Before I can make a move, Spencer talks, his voice small and inviting. "Do you want to come inside?" The beating of my heart quickens immensely as he takes another step forward and brings his fingers out to graze my chin. "Vivian's with her mom tonight."

Yes. Vivian's mom, who divorced Spencer pretty soon in the marriage after she just decided his job was too much to handle. He'd quit and took a teaching job, but even still, she declined his pleading to stay married and eventually admitted that she just wasn't in love with him anymore. At least she had the decency to let him have joint custody once his schedule cleared up, and it seemed like they were decent co-parents. Maybe even friends.

I think about Sky, how much they wish their dad had stayed, and how much I wish he had too. I was devastated when he left without anything more than a note. For years it took a huge toll on us, and I barely had the headspace to even think about dating anyone since then.

But here I am now, standing with this man who has also lost a spouse, who's somewhat of a single parent, and who seems kind and genuine enough that I don't think I'd have to worry about bringing him into the life of my child.

Though, I don't even know it'll go that far. I'm getting too far ahead of myself, and so to slow down I look at what's right in front of me. Right now.

Spencer looks at me like he wants to devour me. My whole body is tingling from head to toe. I want to kiss him, and I'm pretty damn sure he wants to kiss me back. He just invited me inside, which means that if I accept, we'll most likely end up sleeping with each other.

Again... Definitely not one of the scenarios I'd had in mind when I left the school today. But it's a damn good one, and he's so hot I want to cry.

My flirty switch turns on so fast, it nearly gives me whiplash. "And what are you gonna do if I say yes?"

"Depends... How badly do you want to walk tomorrow?"

My first instinct is to jokingly tell him to put me in a wheelchair, but I settle for kissing him instead, hoping that gives the same sentiment.

The way he melts into my body tells me I've succeeded. My arms fly up to his neck and pull him closer, and he holds me tightly to him, waiting for my lips to part so he can expertly slip his tongue past them.

I whine out and take a step towards the door. Spencer comes with me and fumbles with the keys in his pocket before reluctantly pulling away to get us inside.

Once we take our jackets and shoes off, he clings to me like static, drawn to me like a magnet, and I let him near without a second thought. Our lips find each other perfectly, like they've always meant to fit together. And as pieces of clothing come off on our way through the house and up to his bedroom, our limbs fit together just as well. Nothing is out of place.

Hell, I don't even remember how inferior to him I felt earlier in the day. Our jobs and lifestyles might seem like polar opposites, but for right now, the two of us are on very equal footing, coming together like it's always been meant to be.

I nearly fall apart when his fingers gather wetness from my cunt, just enough to tease me before pulling away and bringing them to his lips. I watch with a whine waiting on the back of my tongue as he slips his fingers past his mouth and sighs.

"More," is all he manages, and I want so badly to tease him—tell him how I know he can be more eloquent than that—but words are all lost on me too, when he drops to his knees and spreads me apart with ease. I have no choice but to reach behind and grip the foot-end of the bed as he works his tongue expertly against me.

Each of my sighs and whines are met with more avidity from him, taking the form of sharp flicks of the tongue over my clit, and once he adds his fingers to the mix, pumping them expertly inside me, I'm a fucking goner.

I come with a silent shout, clenching my thighs around his face and gripping the foot of the bed so tightly it feels like my hands might go numb.

Once my body loosens, Spencer gets up and kisses me, nearly knocking me over. I'm breathless and dizzy as the tang of my arousal coats my tastebuds. His hands are gentle despite the hunger in his lips, and the medley of sensations of all of these things has me weak in the knees.

"Getting harder to stand already, sweetheart?" he laughs, catching me as I fall into him. His hands clutch at my thighs and he carries me to the edge of the bed, crawling over top of me and kissing down my neck. "That's okay... I'll take good care of you."

I still can't manage to speak as he gently pushes in, the slow burn of him splitting me in two rendering me utterly incapable of even thought. I gladly welcome the pressure, especially once he's inside me all the way and lowering his body to mine. Our chests press firmly together as he pulls back and starts a steady pace with his hips. He traps me with his arms, bringing them to either side of my face. And when his fingers brush the hair from my eyes, he stares into them with intensity as he fucks me.

It's slow and hard. It's heart-pounding. It's earth-shattering. It's everything that makes sex worth having. In that moment we're two equals, so wrapped up in the mere feeling of each other that everything else is just background noise. He breathes me in and I do the same, and with each cant forward of his hips, he brings me deeper into this world we've both ultimately created together.

I want more than anything to wrap my legs around him and keep him close to me, but he's fucking me so good that I don't have the willpower. Instead, they lay spread out, lazy and open as his hips move between them. I'm warm all over, tingling everywhere our skin connects. When he kisses me, swallowing my pathetic attempts at whimpering his name, I'm positive that this is what Heaven must feel like.

Whether it's hours or only minutes later, eventually my body tenses, unable to hold back any further, and two particularly deep thrusts from Spencer send me barreling over the edge.

"There it is, sweetheart..." he praises, caressing my face with long, gentle fingers and leaving little kisses wherever they trail. His voice only seems to help me along, each warm syllable soothing the muscles that pulled taut at his mercy. "That's a good girl..."

I feel tired, calmed, and relaxed, when he pulls out only to jerk off over my lower stomach. Through tired eyes, I watch as he lets go and covers me with his release. Hearing him grunt out my name as he does it nearly wakes me up again, and it even finally brings some words out of me.

"God, you're so fucking hot..."

Well... Not exactly elegant, but the feeling gets across.

Spencer laughs and rolls over so that he isn't nearly crushing me anymore. He kisses down my neck, my arm, and he ever-so-slightly swipes the tip of his tongue over the mess he made before kissing my thigh and getting up to leave— presumably to get me something to clean up with.

Sure enough, he returns shortly with a wet washcloth and tenderly cleans me up. I manage to sit, leaning back on my elbows once he's done and smile at him. He's practically kneeling in front of me again, smiling back as his lips press featherlight kisses to the inside of my leg.

"How're you feeling?" he drawls, letting me pull him up to lay down with me.

"Really good. I haven't done that in so long..."

"Me either... I um... I hadn't really thought much about seeing other people once Lena and I got divorced... I guess I just wanted to put all my focus into being the best father I could, you know?"

"Mhm," I answer, turning to face him and interlocking our fingers. "I know exactly what you mean."

We lay like that for a few moments in comfortable silence, hands and limbs tangled while we breathe the same air and revel in the afterglow we've just created.

Suddenly Spencer laughs, and I squeeze his hand. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking... We probably wouldn't have met if not for Anteros calling us in, right?"

"Yeah..." I piece it together. "Guess I never thought of it that way."

"I just think it's funny, because in Greek mythology, Anteros was an Erote, known as an avenger of unrequited love, and he punished those who scoffed at romantic advances made by others... You and I never even thought about dating after our separations, and yet... Here we are now, because of Anteros."

Hearing him educate me on Greek mythology only serves to remind me how different we are. Still, the little story brings a comforting smile to my lips. "Well... Remind me to send her a basket of muffins or something to thank her."

"And tell her what? That you're grateful she got you laid?"

"Yeah. And what about it?"

The two of us dissolve into laughter that eventually fizzles and leaves us silent again. Our fingers are still tangled, and somehow we've snuggled in even closer.

"In any case, I'm glad I got to meet you, Doctor Reid."

"And I, you, Ms. Y/L/N..."

———

In the past two weeks since that first meeting, I hadn't received any more phone calls from Principal Anteros, which bode as a good sign.

Spencer and I decided to see each other as secretly as we could, which meant only giving vague details to our kids as to what we were doing in our spare time— It seemed weird to spring it on them if they didn't get along, so we figured it was best to wait until the situation was handled.

I tried to talk to Sky about their progress with Vivian, but they only insisted that everything was fine and they wouldn't have to worry anymore. And after relaying this information to Spencer, he informed me that Viv had said the same thing to him.

It wasn't until we both realized that they'd said the same things verbatim each time we asked, that something odd was going on.

And that's how we end up right here, Sky and I sitting on a park bench bathed in the golden October sun while I patiently wait for Spencer to 'coincidentally' show up with Vivian.

Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, because almost five minutes after we sit, I hear the familiar sound of my name falling from his lips, and it's hard to contain the cocky, playful smile that appears upon my own.

"Spencer, hey!" I call back, standing up and going to give him a hug. He pulls me in and he's nice and warm. He smells like burnt wood for some reason, and I want to breathe him in forever. Instead, I settle for a sweet kiss on the lips, both because I simply want to and also because it should baffle the fuck out of our kids.

Sure enough we pull away and look to them, and they look panicked. They have no idea what to do, what to say...

"Oh! Sorry... Viv, this is Y/N, Sky's mom."

The pure amusement in Spencer's voice makes me feel even warmer than being in his embrace. I look to his daughter and give her a wave. "Hi."

"H—Hi..."

It almost seems cruel to laugh at their predicament, but as I turn to Sky and introduce them to Spencer, they have clear annoyance written all over their face.

"Okay, Mom, I think we get it... How did you guys figure it out?"

"What, that you two pretended to hate each other so your principal would have to call us both in to meet?"

The pre-teens look at each other and sigh, truly defeated once and for all. "Yeah," they mutter simultaneously.

"Well, it surely didn't make any sense when you got in trouble for yelling at each other in the first place," Spencer points out. "And then when we asked you how things were working out, you both said the same exact thing..."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out, but we appreciate the effort," I add, reaching out to ruffle Sky's hair. They jerk away playfully, and I can't help but notice their smile as they peek over at Vivian.

"Our plan worked, though, so I call it a win," Vivian says with a shrug.

"As long as you two don't plan on causing any more disruptions at school..." Spencer looks between the both of them, and then at me, his eyes softening as he takes my hand and squeezes it. "Then yes. I'd call it a win, too."

I lean into him and laugh. "Turns out it wasn't Greek mythology that brought us together. It was The Parent Trap."

He raises an eyebrow, like he doesn't get what I mean, and before I can ask or explain, Vivian does it for me. "He's never seen it."

Spencer looks between the three of us like a lost and confused puppy, and we all laugh.

"Well, then, maybe we'll have to have a movie night sometime soon," I offer, reaching out for Sky.

Hand in hand, the four of us continue down the pathway, walking away from the setting sun while dried leaves rustle under our feet.

———

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out):

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @mcureid @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @goldensonlyangel @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @flipperpenguins @pansexualthing @donald4spiderman @awesomebooklover17 @shemarmooresfedora @izraahh1 @bakugouswh0r3 @singularityjc @xoxospencerreid @thatsonezesty13 @big-galaxy-chaos @mggskneescrew @youabitchhhh @spencersjello @moonlight-2-6 @starrylang @foreveryoungxx3 @spencerreidscoffeecup @morganwilliams @emilyprsntiss @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @gubswh0re @mrsobrien888 @loveeee2134 @umbreonwolfy @ayla-1605 @reidsbabe @not-that-kind-of-dr-spencer-reid 

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[uvobreakmylegs]

Right Place, Right Time

wanted to write something with a little more humor in it but there’s still dark shit because phantom troupe

Warnings: mentions of death

“There's trouble, boss.”

Phinks' voice cut through the chatter of the busy casino. Chrollo didn't look up at first, relaying a few more instructions to Shalnark via text. 'Trouble' wasn't unexpected; as much as Chrollo could plan ahead, human nature could be unpredictable and would usually cause a few bumps in the road when it came to their heists.

“What sort of trouble?” Chrollo asked as he pocketed the cellphone.

“A Zoldyck.”

Ah.... That was a bit more trouble than usual.

Chrollo's gaze followed that of Phinks and Shizuku. Looking down at them from a second balcony stood Illumi, his face devoid of emotion as the black void within his eyes took in the group.

The second Chrollo made eye contact with him, Illumi gestured to his left with a sharp jerk of his head before walking off in the same direction.

“Does he want to fight away from the guests?” Shizuku asked.

“Maybe,” said Chrollo. He began to walk in the direction Illumi had gone, signaling for Shizuku and Phinks to follow. The three of them walked up one of the staircases located to the side. Phinks pulled on the collar of his suit every so often, while Shizuku walked slightly slower due to the heels that she wasn't used to wearing. But Chrollo could sense that the two were anticipating a fight (Phinks likely ready to use it as an excuse to get out of the fancy suit he hated so much).

“But it may not come to a fight with him,” Chrollo told them.

“Don't the Zoldycks hate us?” Phinks asked.

“Silva hates me specifically,” Chrollo corrected, “but Illumi can be reasoned with.”

Phinks snorted a bit at that, but didn't say anything else. Shizuku then asked what Silva Zoldyck had done to the troupe, to which Phinks gave a brief summary of the incident that had happened years prior. A very brief summary, but he knew there was no point in getting into details since Shizuku would forget almost immediately; this wasn't even the first time she had asked.

Perhaps he should have expected that one of the Zoldycks would be present – it was the opening night for this particular high-end gambling hall. But with how stingy the owner had been rumored to be, he would have thought that the price of a Zoldyck assassin as a security guard would have been more than she was willing to spend.

If it was Zeno or Silva there would be no chance of ending things amicably: Zeno was dedicated to his work and wouldn't be moved by a bribe or any words that Chrollo could offer. And Chrollo and Silva shared a very mutual hatred of one another, so a fight would have been inevitable in that case.

But Illumi, while also just as dedicated to his family as his father and grandfather, could be convinced to stand down if Chrollo could name a good enough price and ensure that the Zoldyck name wouldn't be tarnished in any way. The Zoldycks successfully completed every job they took on, but they couldn't be held accountable if their client terminated the contract before they could complete it. It had happened once before, in an instance where a man had hired Illumi to assassinate Pakunoda. Illumi agreed to hold off on going through with the hit for a short while in exchange for twice the amount the man had paid him for and to allow the troupe the time needed to get to the client and release him from the contract.

Though it would be nicer to just get to Illumi's client and kill her off, there was no chance Illumi would allow them to do that while still under his contract. And Illumi would be happier if he was able to leave with twice the amount of jenny he had been promised.

Illumi was waiting at the end of a hall that had fewer people in it, pointedly looking at him before entering into what looked to be a darkened room. Chrollo pulled out his phone to text an order for the troupe to wait as he spoke to Phinks and Shizuku.

“You two wait out here,” he ordered.

Phinks looked as though he wanted to question him on that, but he held his tongue, crossing his arms as he gave a sharp nod in acknowledgment. If Shizuku felt that his actions were questionable, she didn't betray that fact to him.

Leaving the two of them behind, Chrollo made his way to the door Illumi had entered and pulled it open.

This room was darker than the rest of the casino, and without the electric lights that brightened the building and the bodies of the customers that increased the temperature with their own body heat, it was much cooler in the room as well.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did, he saw that Illumi was leaning against a smaller circular table, toying with one of his needles as he watched Chrollo enter.

“I thought you didn't like the body-guarding jobs,” Chrollo said as the door behind him slowly swung shut.

“I owed my brother for his assistance on my last assignment,” Illumi explained, “so I'm filling in for him.”

Chrollo nodded, though he didn't particularly care all that much. Whatever the reason, the presence of a Zoldyck would hinder things. Best to get straight to the point.

“How much are you being paid for this job?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi's eyebrows raised slightly.

“You think you can pay me off?”

“It worked once before.”

“So it did,” Illumi conceded, “but it would start to look suspicious if I accepted your offer too many times, no? It would be a problem if people thought the Zoldycks could be bought out. Our reputation is everything.”

“Well, you can't help it if your client decides that your services aren't needed and lets you go, now can you?”

“Another inexplicable 'termination' with a job that involved the Phantom Troupe?” Illumi asked, “father was annoyed that I did that last time, though he was more annoyed that I took the job in the first place.”

Illumi sighed.

“But again, doing that too often would look strange, and I will not do anything to harm our business reputation.”

“Very few people knew about the previous hit on Pakunoda,” said Chrollo, “there would be few who would notice a particular pattern, and I think the two of us are both inclined to avoid an unnecessary fight if possible.”

“True. Killing you and the rest of your group would take some time. And it wouldn't be worth the amount that woman is offering. Really, she's low-balling us. I don't know what Milluki was thinking when he took this job. Didn't even make her pay upfront.”

“Then we can come to an agreement?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi closed his eyes in thought, his fingers still twirling around that needle. He was considering it.

Chrollo waited in silence. Trying to push Illumi to do one thing was unproductive and could possibly make him decide to fight after all, though he was certain that Illumi was already willing to take him up on the offer since the assassin hadn't sent his needles flying the second Chrollo walked in. Pulling out his phone, Chrollo checked the time: 8:54 PM. He had planned for this particular operation to begin at 9:15. The owner was part of a group that had begun to throttle the livelihood of Meteor City, and tonight she was the host of a party for that group that was taking place in the upper floors while celebrating the successful opening night of her casino. The main purpose was to send a message: kill the group and anyone else in the building so the rest of the world knew not to interfere with the business of his Meteor City. Whatever valuables they collected would just be bonuses for the troupe to divide amongst themselves.

Though Chrollo rarely went back to the city these days, it was beneficial for him if the city still existed. And though he would never admit it out loud, there was of that sentimental feeling of wanting to protect his old home, as harsh and cruel as it had been for him growing up.

Illumi opened his eyes and looked to Chrollo.

“3 billion and I'll leave.”

“That's quite a lot,” said Chrollo, “much more than I paid last time. Why such a steep increase?”

“So it's worth my while.”

Chrollo mulled it for a bit, checking his phone again: 8:57. He certainly had the funds to pay Illumi's price, but it did feel like he was being somewhat taken advantage of in this case. Still keeping an eye on Illumi, Chrollo couldn't help but notice that the assassin seemed to have something else on his mind that he was considering. Then, like he had come to a decision, he sat up a bit straighter as he addressed Chrollo again.

“There's one more thing,” Illumi said.

“Something more than 3 billion jenny, Illumi?”

“Just some time; give me four minutes before you start.”

Chrollo hummed. Illumi didn't need that much time to vacate a building like this. Was it an attempt to set some kind of trap? No, that was unlikely. It would be far too obvious and Illumi wouldn't go to such lengths unless he was being paid to do so. Still, he couldn't help but be a little curious as to what Illumi would need that time for.

“Why four minutes?”

“Personal reasons.”

Ah. He should have sensed something like that would be the answer.

“A lot can happen in even a single minute, Illumi. And you want four?”

“Four minutes is unreasonable?”

“Not enough to end this deal, but I may want you to lower your price a bit.”

“Are you trying to haggle with me?”

Illumi frowned a little when Chrollo smiled at him.

“Maybe just by 60 million or so,” Chrollo said.

“So you'd rather pay two billion, nine hundred and forty million?” Illumi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It's still more than you'll get if you keep your current contract, correct?”

Chrollo saw the corners of Illumi's mouth turn upwards ever so slightly, a small smirk on his face as he closed his eyes again and considered the offer.

“That's true. Even taking that out I'd still be much better off.”

Chrollo checked the time and found it to be 9:01 PM. If Illumi came to a decision soon the troupe's operation could still go as planned.

“Very well,” Illumi said after a moment of thought, “transfer me the money first.”

With a nod, Chrollo accessed one of his bank accounts through his phone, bringing up the necessary amount and transferring it to the account number Illumi gave him. Within a few minutes, the transaction was completed. Illumi seemed rather pleased with himself, Chrollo noted.

“Perhaps you should stay in here for a moment,” Chrollo said, “Shalnark is upstairs. I can order him to take control of the owner and have her officially fire you. Then there won't be any issues with your family, correct?”

“That won't be necessary,” Illumi answered.

“Oh?”

“I got fired before you got here.”

“..... Excuse me?”

There was a flat tone to Chrollo's voice that made Illumi chuckle as the latter continued “that woman felt like she was wasting her money, but she was pressured to hire one of the Zoldycks at the behest of her guests. Seems to me like she was looking for an excuse to get out of paying the full fee. Apparently I was 'unprofessional'. But I'm glad I caught sight of you, otherwise this evening would have been more of a loss for me.”

Chrollo said nothing at first. Illumi had been careful with his wording, Chrollo realized, and it hadn't occurred to him to ask if Illumi was still under contract.

The funds weren't that important to Chrollo, but he couldn't help but feel rather miffed. Had he known that the assassin was currently out of a job, there wouldn't have been a reason to pay a higher price than normal; Illumi would have been left between going home empty-handed or with whatever Chrollo would have been willing to give him.

But then again, how could he have anticipated that a Zoldyck would have gotten fired?

Realizing that he had been played, Chrollo checked his phone again: 9:07. At least they'd still be able to start on time.

“Your four minutes start now,” he said.

Nodding, Illumi stood from where he'd been leaning against the table. He made his way through the room, past Chrollo and to the door that lead to the hall where Phinks and Shizuku waited.

“Perhaps you could humor me,” Chrollo said as he walked by, “it shouldn't take you four minutes to exit a place like this. What exactly are those personal reasons?”

Illumi chuckled a bit as he placed his hand on the knob.

“I suppose you can see for yourself if you decide to watch me leave.”

With that, Illumi left, the door swinging shut.

Standing alone in the dark room, Chrollo wasn't sure what to make of Illumi's behavior. He was used to the assassin being more straight-forward. He was secretive, yes, but there was something about the way he had acted just now that seemed a bit more.... Playful.

Illumi and Hisoka had known each other before Chrollo had met the long-haired man, and the two had seemed like they were in frequent contact. Perhaps, Chrollo mused, some of Hisoka's less-than-ideal qualities were rubbing off on Illumi.

Phinks and Shizuku approached him immediately after he also exited the room.

“It looked like he was leaving,” Shizuku said, “were you able to talk him down?”

“Yes. It was more expensive than it needed to be, but he'll be leaving shortly,” Chrollo answered as he nodded at her.

“He required four minutes before we began, so we'll be able to stay on schedule,” he continued as he looked at his phone again. 9:08.

The two spiders nodded (though Phinks seemed somewhat disappointed to not have a chance to fight Illumi) and Chrollo updated the rest of the troupe. The three of them slowly began to walk back to the main hall before coming to a stop at one of the balcony's. Below them the crowd had only managed to have grow larger as more people had entered to try their luck in the new gambling hall. For the majority of the crowd it seemed to be more of a pastime as they looked more well-to-do, but there were a few individuals who already appeared to be reaching a point of desperation, sweating nervously while they looked to the indifferent dealers.

A grand clock at the top of the hall showed the time to be nearing 9:10, and they had yet to see Illumi leave the building.

“Why did he want four minutes?” Shizuku asked.

“He wouldn't say,” Chrollo answered her.

“Hm. I wonder what it was,” Shizuku said.

“It seems he wanted to collect some woman before we got started,” Phinks suddenly said.

“Huh?”

Both Chrollo and Shizuku looked to where Phinks was looking. Within the crowd they saw Illumi walking through, accompanied by you. He held your hand as he lead you through the throng of guests, and you were giggling at something he had said while you intertwined your fingers with his. Illumi smiled back at you as he continued to pull you forward.

It was not a sight Chrollo had anticipated, nor was he expecting to see the darkened marks on your neck when he squinted. Marks that could've been made by Illumi's mouth.

Remembering that Illumi had said he'd been terminated for being unprofessional, and suddenly the reason for his firing became clear.

“That's just a civilian, right?” Phinks asked, “what does he want with her?”

“I guess he doesn't want to leave her here to die,” said Shizuku, “that's sweet.”

Chrollo continued to watch as the two of you made it to the other end of the hall. When you were finally out of the crowd, you went to wrap your arm around the one that had been leading you, smiling up at him as you two continued your way to the entrance. There weren't many who could touch one of the Zoldycks like that and live to tell the tale. Phinks was most likely right in his assessment; you weren't anything special. You probably had no idea who the person was that you were so happily walking off with or how dangerous he was.

Illumi said something and smiled at you before the two of you began walking again, but Chrollo didn't miss the little warning glance the assassin had sent in his direction.

As Shizuku and Phinks talked amongst themselves on what all that was about, Chrollo found himself unsure of what to think of this particular turn of events.

Evidently to Illumi, you were worth at least 60 million jenny.

You had come to this event on behalf of your friend Kiki, who had been invited by her cousin who had wanted to spend a milestone birthday at the casino. Places like this had never done much for you; the odds were always stacked in favor of the house and you didn't want to lose your hard-earned cash by gambling it away. You only came to do a favor for your friend, and yet about an hour into the evening, she had left you to chat up someone at the bar, leaving you with a group of people you only vaguely knew in an even bigger sea of strangers. Most ignored you, but there was the occasional middle-aged man who would eye you up and make you feel uncomfortable enough that you felt like you needed to leave the general area.

And then you ran into him.

The handsome man with long black hair and dark eyes who'd been walking about. He caught your attention like he'd caught the attention of most of the people around him, though they had seemed more content to watch him and gossip about him from afar. Maybe it was because no one else was going for it, maybe it was because you were slightly jealous that Kiki had managed to find an actual date for the night, or maybe you were just tired of the gross older men that kept ogling you and you wanted to be able to enjoy yourself with someone that you were actually in to. Regardless of whatever it was that made you do it, you approached the man and asked if he wanted to get a drink with you.

He hadn't wanted any drinks, but your boldness had impressed him enough that he wanted to talk with you. In private. Leading you away from the crowd and noise, he took you to a staff-only hallway where he introduced himself as Illumi. You introduced yourself to him, and the two of you managed to hit it off, having a lengthy conversation that ended when he kissed you suddenly. It seemed like something that had been spur-of-the-moment for him, and he pulled away from you to ask if you had liked it. Your answer was to pull him back onto your lips.

Your make-out session had culminated in him pushing you against the wall while he sucked hickeys into the skin of your neck.

And then you got caught.

You were expecting that you'd both get kicked out, but Illumi had been asked to accompany some of the casino staff while you were taken back to the main hall. Being that they were more concerned about Illumi, they left you there while you tried to hide the marks Illumi had left behind. You hadn't been sure if you would see him again; you didn't realize that he'd been working for the casino, and you were worried that you had cost him his job.

So it was unexpected when he appeared before you and asked you to leave with him.

But you said 'yes' without any hesitation.

You slid into the backseat of the car that had pulled up, Illumi coming in after you.

“The Palazzo,” Illumi instructed the driver.

Wait....

“Isn't that the really expensive hotel on the riverfront?” you asked Illumi.

“Yes. I've been staying there,” he answered.

You were amazed that he had the cash to be able to stay at a place like that. Then worry hit you.

“I got you fired, didn't I? Are you sure that isn't an issue?”

With that same small smile you had seen several times now since he'd opened up to you, Illumi smiled back at you.

“I got a better payout leaving like I did than if I had stayed. So don't worry, there's no issue.”

That eased your worries a bit, and you settled yourself into the seat as the car began to pull forward. You glanced back at the illuminated casino as you drove off, and another pang of guilt hit you.

“What's wrong?” Illumi asked.

“I left my friend without telling her anything,” you said as you pulled out your phone, “I should text her about where I'm going.”

“Mm. Yes, that would be a good idea.”

Illumi's tone was always rather flat, so you didn't notice that he seemed slightly displeased as you messaged Kiki to let her know you had left. It seemed like she'd found her own date, so hopefully she wouldn't be too mad at you. It wasn't like she'd been left alone.

The instant you hit 'send', you turned your attention back to Illumi.

“Think she'll get it in time? The reception was a little spotty in some places,” you said.

“It was fine, but don't worry about that.”

With that, Illumi pulled you into his lap while you yelped. You wanted to protest, seeing as you two were in a moving vehicle and the driver could tell what the two of you were doing. Illumi held you securely, however, and when you looked to the front of the car, you found that a sheet of tinted glass now separated the front from the back. The driver must have been able to read the mood.

“Don't worry about what's going on back there,” Illumi told you, “from this point on, all I want for you to focus on is me.”

His order made you blush, and you shyly answered with an “okay” before his lips were on you.

The casino and the people inside it were the last things on your mind that night.

[luminari-mc]

Eternal Memento

☆ Mammon's Birthday Special ☆

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Word count: 1653

Summary: You surprise Mammon with a special and personal gift on a very special day.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Writing angst for Mammon is nice... but fluff and love is definitely better. I wanted to write something cute for our first man's important day, because he deserves it. Happy birthday, Mammon!

______________________________________________________

Five minutes left til the clock struck midnight. At this hour, all of the occupants of the House of Lamentation were expected to be in their rooms for the night- such were the rules which had been implemented by Lucifer for all who lived under these roofs, no matter whether they were demons, or human.

But tonight, you had decided to break that rule. After sneakily escaping the confines of your bedroom, you had managed to make your way upstairs, unbeknownst to the first-born, or any of the other demon brothers for that matter. How you hadn't encountered Beel on his usual night crusades to the kitchen, or walked on Levi taking advantage of the night to leave his room, was beyond you. But you couldn't be more thankful for it. Everything was going according to plan, and you weren't about to let anything or anyone ruin it.

You had arrived at your destination a couple minutes earlier, bouncing with impatience on your feet the more you kept looking at the minutes changing on the screen of your phone. The excitement overtaking you began to brighten your face with a smile, your eyes switching from the light under Mammon's door in front of you, to the darkness of the hallway you were standing in. With only a couple of minutes left to wait, the last thing you wanted was to be interrupted!

But just as a faint light appeared to grow closer and closer towards you from the shadows, your body instinctively tensed up. You kept your smile intact and your mouth shut, until the footsteps of Lucifer, holding a candle in his hand, came to a complete stop upon noticing your presence in the hallway. Just as he was about to reprimand you from breaking curfew, you immediately placed a finger upon your lips, a request the demon seemingly took note of as he simply arched an eyebrow at you. With a grin, you proudly showed him the small, gift-wrapped item in your hand. The wrapping, gold and sparkly, was kept into place by a thin ribbon of the same color

Lucifer's expression changed into one of content as his features relaxed. He nodded understandingly, before starting to walk again, exchanging hushed words of "Do not be loud. I'll let this one slide exceptionally." as he passed by you, before disappearing within the dark of the hallway once again.

Internally, you were grateful. Externally, you sighed out of relief.

Pressing the gift against your chest, you checked your phone once again. 10 seconds left. Your heart suddenly started beating like a hammer within you, and your thoughts were going at a hundred miles per hour. Nothing could ruin your plan now. Mammon was in his room, awake- you were in front of his door, with your gift, and you could only grow more and more excited for him to see it.

Downstairs, the clock echoed loudly. That was it. You advanced your hand towards the handle, stars practically shining in your eyes. Nobody could stop you now-

"IT'S MY--" The door opened without warning, revealing a grinning demon who, with his eyes closed in happiness, hadn't noticed you yet in front of him. Your body moved on instinct.

"Mammon!" You exclaimed, a smile wide on your face as you threw yourself towards him, your arms quickly locking themselves around his neck. Surprised to hear your voice, and even more to feel your body against him without warning, Mammon almost stumbled backwards, pulling you inside alongside him.

"Wh-Whaaat!? Huh- MC?! W-What are you doing here?!" The demon's cheeks burned red upon opening his eyes. "You can't just barge in my face like that! Seriously, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

Chuckling at his reaction, you reached for the door behind you to close it with your foot. Somewhere within the House of Lamentation, Lucifer groaned.

"I wanted to surprise you! Seems like it worked like a charm." Your teasing voice only increased the color of his cheeks even more, as a pout began to form upon his lips.

"S-Seriously, you can't just do that out of nowhere! At least learn to knock, will ya?" His unwavering gaze on you betrayed his frustrated tone. "Whatcha doin' here anyway? Aren't'cha supposed to be asleep?"

"And miss being the first to celebrate the special day of my favorite demon? No way."

Just as you let go of him, his expression softened at the reason of your presence in his room. "O-Oh... is that why you're here?"

You nodded, before taking his hand to guide him towards his couch. "I really wanted for the both of us to spend the entire day together, starting from the very first minute. Is that okay with you?" Despite your question, you knew Mammon enough to easily guess his answer.

"The- the entire day?" His eyes opened wider as he let you pull him at the center of the room, the words failing him. "Like- you mean- as in 24 hours together? J-Just you and me? You're serious?"

"Well, as far as I recall, there are still 24 hours within a day, right?" You teased before sitting on the couch and patting the seat next to you. "Only if you want to, though."

"Wh- really, I mean..." Mammon sat himself onto the couch slowly, his eyes drifting away from you. "If-If you really want it that much, I guess we could... spend the day together..."

You smiled at his reaction. So predictable. So adorable.

"Huh," he turned his face back towards you, or more precisely, towards the object you had placed in your lap, "What's that thing here? Is that...?"

You hummed, scooting closer to him so that your arms would touch. "Your gift for this year. I don't know if it's going to be enough, but I really wanted to give you something personal this time..."

You placed the wrapped-up gift in his hands. "I still hope you'll like it."

Mammon brought the gift closer to him as if to inspect it, the gold of the wrapping reflecting in his eyes. His thumb traced the rectangle shape of the item hidden within it, a cheap attempt at guessing what the gift was before even opening it. Sensing you intently staring at him though, the demon decided to properly discover his present by tearing the paper in half. He continued to rip pieces of it away, until the item was entirely uncovered in his hand.

"It's..." Mammon's mouth hung open, his eyes fixated on the framed picture he was holding. You placed your cheek against his shoulder.

"It's the first picture we took together. Well, more like the first one where our smiles were genuine." You wrapped your arm around his. "We weren't really comfortable around one another when we first met, huh? I mean, with me suddenly being pulled into a place I didn't even know existed, and you having to babysit me without even being able to say a word against it... It would be hard on anyone's nerves."

Mammon slid his arm behind your back as you continued. "Then one day, not long after we made our pact, we made a detour by the city and grabbed ice creams on our way home. I remember you wanted to brag about having finished classes early to the others, so you asked me to take a picture of us to post it on Devilgram later. So we raised our treats, smiled all teeth out, and it was done. Except that, in the end..."

"We forgot about posting it." Mammon said, his brow furrowing on his forehead. "I-I didn't know you had kept it, though."

"Well, there was something about it that made me just... want to keep it. I only thought about it later on during the day, but I realized there was something special about that picture." You tilted your head to look at him. "Want to know what it is?"

Wordless, or probably just too overwhelmed by the memories resurfacing in his mind, Mammon nodded. You put your finger next to his smiling face in the picture.

"Even after we took the picture, you kept on smiling." Your cheeks turned pink at the thought. "You kept on talking to me, and never once you stopped grinning. It was kind of contagious, I'm pretty sure I couldn't stop smiling too because of you. But it was nice. That was the first time where I thought that... maybe living with you guys might not be so bad."

Mammon examined the expressions on your framed past-selves. The picture looked like any other you two would take nowadays; smiling, enjoying the moment and the presence of one another. Except that, at the time, he was still denying his feelings, through and through. And yet in this picture, you had barely known each other for a couple of days, and you were smiling with the same intensity as you do to this day.

I really fell for you pretty quickly, huh...

"I feel kind of bad for forgetting about this." He admits, blushing. "But... I really like it. Thanks, MC. I'll treasure it forever."

Here were the words you were waiting for.

You opened your arms to invite him for a hug, a request which Mammon accepted on the spot as he leaned forward to embrace you, the framed picture still in his hand behind your back.

"So, I really got ya all to myself today?" He grinned. "Damn, it hasn't even been 20 minutes and this already feels like the best day ever."

You leaned yourself away before cupping his cheeks in your hands, your lips pressing against his in a way that only made him want even more. As Mammon placed down the picture on the glass table, and pulled you onto his lap, your thumb caressed his cheek affectionately.

"Happy birthday, my first man. Both in pact, and in smiles."

[hogwartsfirebolt]

cw: canon-typical child neglect

“We will come for you, Potter, you won’t know a single day of peace until you see us again.” Augustus Rookwood spat at Harry’s feet, but seeing as he was tied up, immobilized and held by two of their strongest aurors while six others swept through his house, it was a bit overkill.

“Draco,” Harry said, ignoring the spluttering criminal. “I saw a row of phials in the kitchen, care to give them a look?” He was already looking at something else as he gave the instruction, confident enough in his authority to know Draco would listen.

“Yes, sir.” Draco replied easily, watching his hands as he swept through files. The words turned Harry’s attention back to him — a raised eyebrow, the glimpse of a smile, cheeky, promising. After all, he was sir here, when they worked crime scenes together, and sometimes he was sir at home, too, when it was the last Saturday of the month and they were feeling adventurous.

Draco grinned back. Harry shook his head, the smile still present in his eyes, and went back to looking through Rookwood’s desk.

They’d hunted him for months, countless sleepless nights spent on the case — both of them were slight workaholics and never knew when to stop — endless missteps, near-catches, failed leads. It wasn’t often they got to work cases together anymore, not since Harry had been promoted to Head Auror and Draco put in charge of the Potion Control Department, and so they had given it their all, became the power team they’d been known as back in their Junior Auror Partners days.

It had been fun, seeing Harry in action again, aiding him, leaning on him as well. It had also been exhausting. They weren’t 20 years old anymore.

Finally, it was coming to an end, and it was like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Draco could already taste the fresh air of the Amalfi coast, where they’d be celebrating their sixth wedding anniversary as soon as they finished the paperwork.

“Here,” Junior Auror Healey said when Draco entered the kitchen, pushing a small cardboard box towards him over the table. “The boss said you had to look this over.”

Draco snorted. “The boss knows I don’t have to do anything. I won’t look if I don’t want to,” he said, already looking because well, he did have to.

“Oh, not the old married couple attitude, please,” came Ron’s voice from the living room, surprising a laugh out of Draco as he popped the cork off a phial with utmost care.

“Shut it, Weasley, I will end you and Harry won’t stop me.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“What is it?” Healey whispered, awed, ignoring Ron completely as she stared at the burgundy fumes emerging from the phial in Draco’s hand. She’d always liked Potions, had asked to apprentice with him when her training ended in the fall. He beckoned her closer.

“Come on, you can smell it — there, what do you smell?”

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Poppy.”

He hummed. “Yes. It’s a powerful sedative, topped with golden spindle chord and moondust, from the looks of it. This could make someone sleep for years.”

“Honestly, I get why people would buy it. I know a few I’d like to give it to.”

Draco grinned. “Such a Slytherin. Careful, the Gryffindors here will try hard to take that edge off you.”

“That was one time, Malfoy,” came Ron’s voice once again, this time sending Draco and Healey into a full laughing fit.

When they recovered, Draco handed the potion back to her, safely corked. “They all look the same, but I’m not sure about the conditions they’ve been preserved in. Have Newton send them to my lab, will you?”

She nodded. Draco washed his hands and walked back into the house, drying them on the sides of his robe. He passed Ron, who was securing the wands they had confiscated, passed Newton, who was inspecting the spell damage on Daphne’s arm, and went to find Harry in the office where he’d left him, thinking it was time to leave, thinking of the hot shower and warm bedsheets waiting for them at home.

Instead, he found him by the stairs, breathing hard, eyes wide. He stopped, hackles rising, his heart speeding up immediately, attuned to Harry’s uneasiness.

“Harry? What’s wrong?”

“I’m — I’m not sure … can you hear that?” He raised a trembling finger, pointing out a sound. He had goosebumps all over his arms.

Draco blinked, focused, and then he heard it. A light tapping, coming from the cupboard under the stairs, and something softer, sweeter, a hum, almost as if someone were singing to themselves.

“Is that…?”

Harry blew up the door.

The child looked at them, eyes wide, swinging feet tapping against the side of a tiny cot. He looked confused rather than scared, as he sat there in clothes at least five sizes too big for him, messy brown hair covering his forehead. He couldn’t be older than four.

Draco knelt in front of him immediately, hands going up to his shoulders, his face, making sure he was safe. His heart was somewhere near his throat.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, which was the primary thing in the midst of the most disconcerting finding he’d made in his entire career.

The child shook his head. Hesitated. Then, in a sweet, small voice, “Where’s uncle Gus?”

Draco couldn’t breathe. “You’re Augustus Rookwood’s nephew?”

The child nodded.

“Where are your parents?”

“Uncle says they’re dead.”

“W- what are you doing in here? With the door locked?”

“This is my room.” Draco heard Harry make a choked up noise behind him, but didn’t turn to look. “Uncle Gus says I’m not supposed to bother him. Am I — am I bothering him?”

“No, no. Are you — how long have you…” his hands trembled, holding the child’s collar. “Do you live with anyone else?”

The child shook his head again. “Before, yes, but uncle says auntie Gertie is dead too.” There was a pause. Draco heard nothing behind him, but he couldn’t make himself look away from the kid, the hollow cheeks, the small frame. He looked starved.

“What’s your name?”

“Silas.”

“Are you hungry, Silas? When did you last eat?”

“I think — I think breakfast.”

“Today?”

“Yesterday.” He replied. Then, with curiosity, “Who are you?”

It was six in the evening. Nearly two full days had passed since his last meal. Draco closed his eyes, swallowed.

“My name is Draco. We will take you somewhere safe now, is that okay? You’re safe with us.”

Silas’ hazel eyes lit up. “You’re taking me away?” But his joy seemed to last merely a second, his gaze turning to his feet. “But uncle will be mad. I’m supposed to be good. Am I being good?”

“Oh god.” Came Harry’s voice from behind him, fractured. He fell to his knees beside Draco, pulled Silas off the cot, held him by the shoulders. “We’re going to help you, okay? You — you’re coming with us. You don’t have to come back here if you don’t want to, you’re safe, you … I promise. I promise we will keep you safe.”

Silas hugged Harry.

Haunted green eyes met Draco’s over the boy’s shoulder, those eyes he loved more than anything, holding unshed tears that seemed to go unnoticed, the depth of a decades-old pain coming to the surface, fresh once again, renewed.

There were things Harry couldn’t speak about. Hadn’t, not even once.

Now, it was all there in his eyes. A question.

Draco saw two neglected children, clinging to each other by a cupboard under the stairs, and knew what he was being asked. He didn’t need to think about it for even a second when he nodded.

Harry closed his eyes, hugged Silas tighter. “You’re coming with us.”

Written for @drarrymicrofic prompt - "Adoption"

[armenelols]

There isn't enough appreciation for Elrond's and Isildur's friendship.

I think much of this comes from the movies, where our only image of Isildur is his 'no' and Elrond yelling 'Isildur!', and then we see him die because he dives into the river while running away from a battle because the One Ring falls from his finger. Sure, there is some scroll Gandalf reads, but it only makes Isildur seem even more obsessed with the Ring than he already seemed. Add to that Aragorn's rambling about how he and Isildur share blood and weakness and you've got the perfect receipt for evil Isildur and 'cast it into the fire' memes.

Movie!Elrond's 'men are weak' really isn't helping.

So to start with, I think it is necessary to say that I am talking about book!Elrond and book!Isildur here, and while I don't recall either of them calling the other friend, it's a headcanon I have and it is to some extent supported by the books.

In the chapter The Disaster of the Gladden Fields in Unfinished Tales, Isildur shares a few exchanges with his son, Elendur, that I would like to show here.

Elendur went to his father, who was standing dark and alone, as if lost in thought. 'Atarinya,' he said, 'what of the power that would cow these foul creatures and command them to obey you? Is it then of no avail?'

'Alas, it is not, senya. I can not use it. I dread the pain of touching it. And I have not yet found the strength to bend it to my will. It needs one greater than I know myself to be. My pride has fallen. It should go to the Keepers of the Three.'

And later in the chapter:

'My king,' said Elendur, 'Ciryon is dead and Aratan is dying. Your last counsellor must advise, nay command you, as you commanded Ohtar. Go! Take your burden, and at all cost bring it to the Keepers: even at the cost of abandoning your men and me!'

'King's son,' said Isildur, 'I knew that I must do so; but I feared the pain. Nor could I go without your leave. Forgive me, and my pride that has brought you to this doom.'

Earlier in the chapter, we also get this passage talking about Isildur:

When he at last felt free to return to his own realm he was in haste, and he wished to go first to Imladris; for he had left his wife and youngest son there, and he had moreover and urgent need for the counsel of Elrond.

Nearer to the end of the chapter, when talking about Isildur's death, Tolkien writes this:

There suddenly he knew that the Ring had gone. By chance, or chance well used, it had left his hand and gone where he could never hope to find it again. At first so overwhelming was his sense of loss that he struggled no more, and would have sunk and drowned. But swift as it had come the mood passed. The pain had left him. A great burden had been taken away. There he rose up out of the water: only a mortal man, a small creature lost and abandoned in the wilds of Middle-Earth. But to the night-eyed Orcs that lurked there on the watch he loomed up, a monstrous shadow of fear, with a piercing eye like a star. They loosed their poisoned arrows at it, and fled.

And last from this chapter, this bit about the Ring itself:

It was little more than two years since it had left his [Sauron's] hand, and though it was swiftly cooling it was still heavy with his evil will, and seeking all means to return to its lord.

So what does this tell us? And in addition, where was I coming to with Elrond & Isildur friendship?

1. For all of Isildur's refusal to give up the Ring after the war ended here:

'Alas! yes,' said Elrond. 'Isildur took it, as should not have been. It should have been cast then into Orodruin's fire nigh at hand where it was made. But few marked what Isildur did. He alone stood by his father in that last mortal contest; and by Gil-galad only Círdan stood, and I. But Isildur would not listen to our counsel.

' "This I will have as weregild for my father, and my brother," he said; and therefore whether we would or no, he took it to treasure it.

- The Council of Elrond, Fellowship of the Ring

Isildur realized he was wrong. The Ring was still at its most evil, and it wanted to corrupt him, it wanted to go back to Sauron, yet Isildur resisted enough to be able to almost give up the Ring willingly or at least consider it.

When he was slain, he was already taking the Ring to Elrond. Whether he would have the strength to do it later, he resisted the Ring enough to at least consider it. How many would be able to do so? Of course, there was the factor of the very touch of the Ring paining him, but compared with the Ring's will, that's hardly enough to convince a man to give it up.

And at last, when the Ring slipped from his finger, he did not dive after it. He gave it up, and swam away; and even as the orcs killed him, they killed him a free man.

2. He was bringing the Ring to Elrond. At the very beginning I said this post is about Elrond's and Isildur's friendship, and finally, I am talking about it.

It should go to the Keepers of the Three, Isildur says of the Ring - and for that, he would have to know who the Keepers are, or at least know of someone who knows. And it is said repeatedly that he seeks Elrond's counsel, that he goes to Imladris; did he know Elrond has Vilya?

The location of the Three is one of the greatest secrets kept from Sauron, and it is said many times that almost no one knew of it. Did Isildur know, suspect? In addition to this, Elendur seems to have the same knowledge, which, as he is repeatedly called Isildur's greatest confidant, isn't much of a wonder.

All in all, Isildur either connected the dots well enough to realize that out of all high elven lords, it is Elrond bears a ring of power (and Isildur is clever, this is a possibility); or Elrond was not careful enough and Isildur figured it out from his missteps (which, considering Elrond's experience with cursed jewellery isn't very likely); or Elrond gave him hints on purpose; or he just. Straight up told him.

The last two options seem to be most likely to me, which brings me to Elrond trusting Isildur enough to reveal such a secret to him, which leads me to my Elrond and Isildur are friends agenda.

Should the first option be true, props to Isildur for figuring it out by himself without any clues from Elrond other than him being important. Should Isildur be bringing the Ring to Elrond in hopes that Elrond knows who the Keepers of the Three are, without knowing Elrond is one of them, it still shows Isildur trusted Elrond enough to bring him the Ring even for temporary keeping.

(there is also the matter of whether Isildur knows the other Keepers of the Three, as he mentions them a few times, but never enough to indicate if he knows who they are)

3. Parallels. It is said that Elendil and Gil-galad, the two high kings of their people are friends. Is it really so unlikely that Elrond, Gil-galad's herald (and possibly heir, even though he took no crown), and most trusted advisor besides Círdan; and Isildur, the heir of Elendil the Tall and his second in command, would strike a friendship?

The Isildur we are presented with is both bold and wise - he saves the fruit of the White Tree of Númenor alone because it needs to be done, and then he does it again, and he does it because it's the best for his people. He takes the Ring, and tries to make it listen to him, and realizes he made a mistake; he tries to fix it, and wants to bring it to Elrond.

The Isildur we are presented with has courage, and wisdom, and hope.

Do you know what does this remind me of?

Edain. Their ideals. The reasons why they got the gift of Númenor, greater wisdom, longer lives.

They resisted the evil, no matter how strong; they were loyal, true to their beliefs, brave and courageous.

Elros was chosen as the king of the Edain and really, I highly doubt Edain would choose him as a king just because of his heritage, or because someone told them to do so. Sure, someone could have pointed out Elros to them and say 'hey, look at this dude, he could be a nice king, what do you think?' but in the end, while they might start following Elros because someone else told them, I doubt they would let themselves be led by someone who wasn't the best representation of them. In Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth, Andreth does not shy away from telling Finrod her beliefs, the beliefs of her people. And I don't think that changed with time.

What am I trying to say? I think Elros and Isildur were both similar in many ways, in ways that made them the leaders they were - and that in a way, Elrond saw Elros in Isildur, as well as himself; for Elrond still connected strongly with his mortal kin, and as I mentioned earlier, their political positions were similar.

And while Isildur was his own person and had done things neither Elros or Elrond would have done, and had his own good and bad qualities, it doesn't erase the similarities.

4. Aragorn was raised in Rivendell, by his mother and Elrond and his people. Of all the people there, it is easy to see which ones would influence him the most: Gilraen, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir. It is repeatedly shown how close he was to them. To some extent we may include Glorfindel, for they were friends, but not as much as the above mentioned four.

Now, as Estel, he wasn't aware of his heritage. He is shown to be proud of his heritage, of his descend from Isildur; and yes, this could be a simple pride in one's ancestors. It could have been that he simply liked Isildur as a historical legendary figure and it became greater after he learnt of his descend from him. Or it could have been that he was told many tales of Isildur, of his deeds and personality, and his family, and decided I want to be like him, and like Elendil, even without knowing he was in any way related to them.

And really, when it comes to the above-mentioned people, who would be the most likely to tell him stories of Isildur? Gilraen who only knew him from stories, or Glorfindel who was never mentioned around Isildur in the books, or Elladan and Elrohir, born after Isildur's death, who could have any number of first-hand stories about hundreds of Aragorn's cool ancestors but not Isildur himself?

All I am saying is there is a potential for Elrond to be telling stories of his old friend Isildur and Elendil and Gil-galad to Estel, and Estel loving them.

There is also the fact that in the chapter The Disaster of the Gladden Fields, Elendur, Isildur's son, is said to be very similar to Aragorn. And I love the idea of Elrond's and Isildur's sons paralleling each other, in a strange way, thousands of years apart.

5. In the books themselves, we do no see Elrond speaking about Isildur much. (I checked almost every mention of Isildur in most of my Tolkien books. So yeah.) On the Council of Elrond, Elrond talks about Isildur the most, but it is mainly in historical manner and 'the Ring should have been destroyed that day' manner, as you can see in the passage from the book I mentioned above in point 1.

This doesn't tell us much about their relationship, much less their friendship - and thus as a source for my image of them as friends, I give the place to The Disaster of the Gladden Fields, thinking they would make a good duo, and the potential of how Isildur's death may have had affected Elrond.

Isildur's death was unexpected. No one expected the road not to be safe - there is a reason why Isildur and his men were unprepared for a battle. They were simply journeying on a familiar road, to Rivendell and then Arnor. Not even the Orcs that ambushed them knew of the Ring. In Rivendell, they learnt of what happened only thanks to Ohtar, Isildur's squire who survived; and even then, the specific circumstances of his death were not revealed until Aragorn found Elendilmir and the chain which bore the Ring among Saruman's things.

In all honesty, I don't think even Elrond knew Isildur planned on giving him the Ring. I do not doubt he expected him, for his wife and youngest son were in Imladris - but I found no reason as to why he might know of Isildur's plans with the Ring.

That could give him a reason to speak ill of Isildur, couldn't it? Yet when he speaks of him, he only speaks of facts and what should have been done - he doesn't call Isildur too weak to give up the ring, or power-hungry, or proud - and by the latter, Isildur calls himself several times (as can be seen here, in the passages I used above)

It needs one greater than I know myself to be. My pride has fallen.

And here:

Forgive me, and my pride that has brought you to this doom.

And yes, it was a formal Council - Elrond had no reason to speak of his personal feelings towards Isildur. Yet I think the little he said reflects his thoughts well. He might have felt some bitterness towards him, especially as he later learnt what the Ring's nature truly was; and especially as he had no knowledge of Isildur being willing to give the Ring to him, for better or worse, whether he would find the strength to do so or not.

Still, once Elrond learnt of the Ring's Nature, I think he might have understood Isildur better - especially as he himself did not dare to even touch the Ring.

[stargazer-balladeer]

[ii] - were you always this cute?

Word Count: 2.6k

[series masterlist] [previous] [next]

“I promise that I’ll make you fall for me!”

Those words keep echoing in your head endlessly, making you more embarrassed and frustrated. A proclamation you made earlier keeps replaying in your head, including the face that Albedo made making your cheeks warm at the memory of him smirking. Even though you said those words to him, you didn’t exactly have a plan or an idea on how to do it. Were you supposed to immediately act on it or what? How the hell are you supposed to do this? Why did you even say that when you don’t even know what he likes? Saying those words with much confidence because you were too caught up in the moment. Turning your head around to stuff it on your pillow before letting out a scream. Why does it sound so easy to say yet so hard to act on it? Growling to yourself, you sat up and opened your phone. You aren’t going to give up on this easily, you gave your word to Albedo and you’ll stick to it. 

Sending the message you typed, you put your phone on your side as you await for their response. 

“So let me get this straight… you want to know how to make someone fall in love with you, correct?” You nodded your head, almost too eagerly. Watching her sigh as she sent you a pointed glare. “And what makes you think that I’m an expert in this department again?” “You have a harem.” You shrugged, taking a sip on your drink. Lumine sighed once more, rubbing her temples. “Just because many people likes me doesn’t mean that I’m an expert in love.” Setting down your drink, pouting at her as you stare at her pitifully. “I just need help, Lumi~ I don’t know what to do…” “That’s not my problem.” Lumine snapped, taking a sip on her milk tea. 

Sighing, you knew from the beginning that this wasn’t easy. Lumine could be more stubborn than her twin brother, Aether. You wished you asked help from him but he’s friends with Venti, who was known to be a gossip queen. As much as you love Aether, you couldn’t help but sigh at his rather naive personality. He could be so gullible sometimes. Lumine, on the other hand, can keep a secret and is rather introverted. If you have to describe Aether and Lumine, Aether would be the sun due to his extroverted nature while Lumine is the moon due to her mysterious nature. “So, who’s the boy?” Lumine suddenly asked, staring at you. Pursuing your lips, you hesitantly told her. “It’s Albedo…” You told her.

Her eyes widened a bit before returning to normal. “Ah… I see.” She said, looking away. Tilting your head slightly at her odd behavior but decided to brush it off. “I just want to know what he likes and dislikes. What I should do and what I shouldn’t do around him.” You elaborated further. Lumine nodded her head, her eyes looking away. “The best advice I could think of right now is you should be you,” Lumine said, returning her gaze to you. “Much like the people I’ve met that came from Mondstadt, he prefers people that are true to themselves and won’t let anyone’s judgment affect them in any way.”

Nodding your head, trusting her advice. It was better than nothing you suppose. “Thanks, Lumi! I knew I could count on you!” You said while smiling brightly at her. You didn’t notice how forced her smile is or the bitterness behind her words. “Glad to help as always…”

Walking through the hallways with your mind drifting off as usual, and because of this, you didn’t notice the person in front of you. Which resulted in you accidentally colliding with them. “Sorry! I wasn’t looking.” You apologized, looking up to meet a pair of pointed cold amber eyes, much colder than Albedo’s and much fiercer. His hair green with a streak of light green and a purple diamond-shaped on his forehead, wearing a black-themed outfit. He seems familiar to you for some reason… “Watch where you’re going next time.” He huffed, turning around and walking away from you. Glaring at his retreating figure before rolling your eyes. “Rude.”

Deciding to just ignore the rude emo boy, you continued your way to your class. Adjusting the straps of your bag, you arrived at your destination. Taking a breath before sliding the door to enter, immediately getting swarmed by greetings from your classmates. Returning the gesture with a greeting of your own, you made your way to your desk. Hu tao’s bag or hat isn’t present yet on her desk so you assume that she’ll be late again. Taking a peek at the desk horizontally to yours in a different row (so like his seat is northwest from yours), you noticed he wasn’t there either. Probably in the lab, making some experiments before class starts. Shrugging, you take a seat and start to set up the things you need for your first period. 

Grabbing a spare notebook and flipping the pages until you find a blank page, you then grab a pencil and start to sketch. It wasn’t anything special or amazing compared to those art students who are amazing in drawing and painting, it was just a simple glaze lily that you saw while on your way to school. Stroking your pencil absentmindedly but still with precision, your mind half there but at the same time not. While stroking the petals of the flower, you didn’t notice someone watching you sketch from the side. “Your drawing skill is quite excellent. The way you accurately stroke your pencil with how glaze lily looks like… I’m quite impressed.”

Flinching at the sudden familiar deep voice, you slammed your notebook in surprise, whipping your head to the side to see Albedo staring at you. Locking eyes with one another, he tilted his head. “Why’d you stop?” He asked, his mouth in a small frown. Feeling your face heating up, you looked away. “I-It’s not that great. I was just… drawing randomly.” You said, your mind still not with you. Fidgeting slightly, you heard him hum in response and shuffling sound. “Really? I don’t see it that way.” Slowly raising your head to him but not quite meeting his eyes, you raise a brow, “What do you mean?”

“I think it’s lovely. Far better than any drawings I’ve seen so far.” Giving you a small smile before walking to his desk, leaving you dazed at what happened. After a few moments your mind finally comprehends what’s happening, you slammed your head to your desk, earning a lot of weird and concerned looks from your classmates. Only one found your reaction adorable and amusing. “Heyy~ are you trying to kill yourself or something~?” You heard your friend’s voice echoing beside you. “If you want to die already, I can give you a discount for being my best friend~!”

Albedo watches as the teacher continues to teach the rather boring topic that he knows already. Tapping his pen once in a while on his desk as he wishes for classes to end already. If he would have to choose his favorite teacher so far, it’ll be Mr. Zhongli. The way he teaches is rather unique, and what Albedo admires about him is his endless knowledge about certain things, most especially glaze lilies. Speaking of glaze lily, he looked at the corner of his eyes to see you almost asleep on your desk. Eyes almost closing and head on your palm, as you tried to stay awake. He watches amusingly as your head almost falls over and the desk. Hiding his growing smile behind his palm, he stares forward again.

“Miss [L/N]. Are you listening or are you busy trying not to fall asleep there?” The teacher’s voice boomed through the room, making everyone jump, most especially you. Watching your reaction at the corner of his eyes, he watches as you sit up straight, not anymore sleepy. “No ma’am! Sorry…” You said while smiling sheepishly. Stifling his chuckle as the teacher huffed at your response. “If I see you sleeping again, I’ll give you detention and more homework.” Nodding at what your teacher said, he watches as Hu tao teases you. His eyes look at your smiling face, the way your eyes wrinkle when you smile, when your nose scrunches up, and the way your eyes shine. 

Were you always this adorable?

“Ah, miss [L/N]. May I have a favor to ask you?” The silky and commanding voice of your economics teacher rang through the room after the bell finished ringing. Looking up to meet the ruby-colored eyes of miss Ningguang, you hesitantly nodded your head. Bidding a quick goodbye to Hu tao, you quickly made your way to your teacher. She crossed her arms as she smiled at you softly, which made her look more beautiful. “What is it, miss Ningguang?” “I need you to deliver something for me. You see, a fellow colleague of mine was in a hurry earlier and requested me to bring these supplies to the laboratory. But I still have a meeting to attend to now, so can I ask you to deliver these to Laboratory 2? Just place it on any desk.” She explained. Laboratory 2? Isn’t that where Albedo’s club is? You decided to nod your head since you have nothing better to do anyway, and gives you an excuse to see Albedo but no one needs to know about that. “Sure miss Ningguang! I’ll deliver these for you.” 

“Good. You are dismissed now.” 

Carrying the box that contains the supplies, you carefully navigated through the hall, minding other students and being careful not to bump into any of them. Laboratory 2 was upstairs near the third-years. “Ah! Miss [Y/N]!” Someone’s voice called from behind, making you look and see Sucrose smiling bashfully. “How are you, miss [Y/N]?” She asked, going to your side and noticing the box you’re holding. “And what’s in the box?” “It contains supplies for Laboratory 2. Miss Ningguang made me deliver it.” You answered while smiling. “And I’m doing alright. You?” Sucrose nods her head enthusiastically. “I’m doing excellent! I managed to recite in class without stuttering today!” Chuckling at her enthusiasm, you would’ve hugged her if it weren’t for the box you’re holding. 

“That’s great! Good job.” She laughs sheepishly, her pale cheeks turning pink, still not used at how openly you praised her. “Anyways! I’m actually heading to Laboratory 2 now. Why don’t we go together?” Nodding your head, you two continued your walk to the lab, talking along the way. You knew Sucrose ever since she moved to the house right next to yours, effectively making her your neighbor. She was still as shy as ever, even when you two were kids. Even though you were older than her by three years, it doesn’t stop you to hang out with Sucrose. Sucrose actually skipped two years during middle school, which makes her the youngest among the first years. 

You soon arrived at your destination making your conversation with your shy friend come to an end, sliding the door for you. “Thanks.” Entering the room, your eyes immediately landed on the figure inside, who was busy sketching something in the paper. “Good afternoon Mr. Albedo.” Sucrose greeted, which made Albedo look up to see you and Sucrose entering the room, he nodded in greeting “Good afternoon Sucrose. What brings you here, [Y/N]?” He asked, curious why you’re here until he noticed the box in your hands and realized why you’re here. “Ah. Is that the supplies? Thank you for bringing it.” Setting down his clipboard on the table and walked to where you stood. Sucrose went in already and started to set her things up on another desk, which you guessed hers. 

“This must’ve been heavy. Sorry for the inconvenience.” He said, getting the box from you and gently placing it on a spare desk. “No no! It’s okay.” You said, reassuring him with a smile on your face. He nodded his head while glancing at Sucrose, who was now busy with tinkering an old-looking clock. His eyes glanced back at you. “Are you about to go home now?” He asked, his eyes unconsciously inspecting your face which made you self-conscious. Starting to play with your hands, you shake your head. “N-Not really. Since I have nothing better to do, I’ll drop by the library today.” You said, averting your eyes. Humming at your answer, he nodded his head. “I see.. Take care then.”

“Ah, Sucrose. I have to go now. I forgot that I have to pick-up Klee at her school.” Albedo announced when he realized how much time had passed after he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Sucrose nodded her head while smiling slightly. “Ok, Mr. Albedo. Take care while going home!” “Same to you.” After Albedo closes the door, he sighed while running a hand through his hair. An experiment has gone wrong earlier when Sucrose accidentally gave him the wrong potion, as much as he was annoyed, he doesn’t have the heart to scold the soft-hearted girl so he lets it go. Opening his eyes and adjusting his bag, he started to walk through the empty halls. It was already 6, which means almost everyone is gone from school, save from those people that have clubs. 

When he steps out, he takes a deep breath. He’s been inside that lab for a long time now, it’s nice to have fresh air now. While walking though, he passed by an open window. His eyes decided to take a peek inside and noticed a familiar person sleeping peacefully in the window, you. You were sleeping on top of your arms, facing at the side making Albedo see your peaceful sleeping face, and underneath your arms was a book. Furrowing his brows, he stopped walking and stared at your sleeping figure. Don’t you know how dangerous it is to sleep in an open window? What if someone passed by and took a picture of you? Or stolen something from you? Or someone stupid deciding to kidnap you?

Huffing at your naivety, but he can’t help but watch you sleep. A strand of hair fell on your face, almost like an instinct, Albedo’s hand moved on its own and tucked the strand behind your ear. By now, he was close enough to see the smallest details in your face. Normally, he doesn’t care about anyone. But why does this person make him feel things that he’s never felt before with anyone? Sighing as he leans back, turns around before leaning on the wall and sliding down. What did you do to him to make him feel this way? Feeling his cheeks heat up, he huffed. 

Ever since you made that declaration the other day, he couldn’t get you off his mind. Out of everyone in his class, he noticed you the most. He thought it was because of how often you get in trouble with the teacher or your hyperactive friend. But when you confessed to him that day, he felt his heart skip a beat. He recalled how scared he was, why did it beat? If he was being honest, he didn’t know what he was saying until he heard you sobbing. He made you cry. Never in his life thought he would experience this kind of pain. But the almighty Albedo would never admit it. 

This is not love, he thought as he stood up and adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. Taking a glance at your sleeping figure, now noticing that you’re slightly shivering. He sighed as he started to walk. “I’m not in love.” He mumbled under his breath. 

Tagging: - - - *

@fanfictionenthusiast @mintkyo @shiro-no-hana @qimiie @akemeru @duhsies @izayami

[giggly-squiggily]

Attitude Adjustment (My Hero Academia)

Heyo everyone! So, this fic is based off just post the first final exam in season 2! Who doesn’t love a good Dad!Might fic with his sons? X3

Tiny trigger warning for Bakugou’s loud swearing. That is to be expected with our petty explosive boy, though! X3

“Kacchan! You heard what Recovery girl said! You shouldn’t go home right now!”

“Shut up, Deku! I don’t need to stay the night. I feel fine, dammit!”

“But you're not fine! You’re barely moving at your normal speed!”

“I told you I don’t need your help, nerd!”

“Well, too bad, Kacchan! I’m here, so deal with it!”

All might bit down a sigh as he watched the two boys bicker among themselves. It was a few hours after the final exam, and while they passed, both boys took tremendous amounts of injury during the test. Recovery girl fixed them up, and after a scolding lecture about not overusing their quirks, the boys were welcomed to stay the night to heal.

Which lead to now. Bakugou had turned down the offer to stay, despite how drained his body was post Recovery Girl’s treatment. Midoriya didn’t want Bakugou to go home alone in the state he was in, and was trying to convince him to stay. It really was a messy situation.

“Geez, to think these two were friends at one point…” All Might sighed, buffing up into his presentable form as a valuable teaching moment came to mind. “Looks like it’s up to me to show young Bakugou the importance of teamwork!”

Said blonde was just turning on his heels to leave, grumbling about how’d he be fine walking home when All Might pounced, swooping in stopping Bakugou in his tracks. “I am here!” He announced, scaring the hell out of both boys with his sudden entrance. “A-All Might? What the hell are you doing?” Bakugou stammered, barely able to move with the teacher’s hand on his shoulder. “A-All Might?” Midoriya yelped, eyes widening as he looked up at his mentor.

“Hahaha! I overheard your little scruffle just now, and I thought I’d say something!” All Might nodded, his smile dropping slightly into a more somber expression as he looked at the boys. “While I’m proud of you two for passing the finals, there were clear issues with your teamwork. Neither of you could decide what to do when facing me, and in a real battle, that could lead to all kinds of danger.” All Might’s eyes locked onto Bakugou’s red ones, making the younger boy blush slightly. “W-What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He snapped, glaring fiercely.

“Young Bakugou, while your technical stills in combat are quite amazing, your attitude towards your partner was atrocious! It seems to me you’re going to need an impromptu remedial lesson.” With that, All Might pulled the blond into his chest, easily capturing his wrists in one hand. Bakugou struggled to wriggle free, but his body was too tired from Recovery Girl’s quirk, leaving him defenseless. “What! What are you doing?” He yelled, fighting the best he could anyway.

“As for you, Young Midoriya. You too need a lesson.” All Might nodded, his smile returning, a glint of mischief to it. “Your strategies and quick thinking allow you to easily assess the situation around you, however- you lack confidence when it comes to young Bakugou here. You need to learn to assert yourself better with this young lad here.” With his free hand, he raised it above Bakugou’s head so only Midoriya could see, wiggling his fingers playfully. “We’ll work on that as well. Now come, let us show Young Bakugou here how teamwork should be!”

With that, All Might wasted no time digging his free hand into Bakugou’s exposed armpit, prodding and poking at the soft skin. The blonde student immediately jolted with a howl, thrashing about as All Might’s tickly hand invaded a bad spot. “AHHH! Ahehahahhahahahahahaha! Aahahahahhahlll Mihihihhiihihght! Sthahahhahhahap!” He cried, not at all prepared for the tickly trick.

Midoriya’s eyes widened, a mixture of awe and fear as his mentor tickled his old friend/bully. Wait, Kacchan was still ticklish? He was tempted to make a few notes on the situation before him, only to be stopped when Bakugou squawked loudly, wriggling more when All Might’s hand moved to his ribs, poking and prodding the skin. “Ahahahahhahhaha! Sthahahahhap ihhihihiiht! Ihihihihihilll Kihihihihihill yohohohohohu!” He cried, cheeks flushing a bright pink as he laughed.

“Now, young Bakugou. That’s not very heroic!” All might teased, his tone playful as he carried on the tickly torture. Midoriya finally came to his conclusion, walking up to his mentor and classmate. “Ahahhahahahhaahha! Dheheehehheeku! Hehehehehehehlp mehehehehe!” The blonde cried, squirming even more when the green haired boy kneeled, hands resting on his hips. “Sorry, Kacchan. You need to learn to listen when I talk.” With that, he pressed his thumbs into the sensitive joints, dodging a flying kick when Bakugou screamed.

“AHHH! AAhAHAHHAHAHAH! NAHAHHAHHAHAT THEHEHEHEHHERE!” He cried, his laughter growing in volume and hysterics when Midoriya pressed into his worst spots, a cheery grin on his freckled face. “AHEHEHHAHAHAHAHHAHA! STAHAHAHAHHAHP IIHIHIHIT!” Bakugou shrieked, his body growing increasingly weaker as the tickling carried on, tears of mirth dotting his eyes as he reached his limit. Midoriya giggled before standing up, easing off of Bakugou and patting All Might’s wrist. “I think he’s had enough, don’t you?” He asked with a laugh, nodding towards his classmate.

“Heh, seems so. I believe Bakugou had learned his lesson.” All Might stopped his own playful attack, releasing Bakugou’s wrist and easing the blonde to the ground. Bakugou gasped for air as he curled into a ball, arms tightly around his waist as he giggled helplessly. Tiny explosions popped off his hands occasionally, but nothing too serious. For a brief moment, Midoriya felt kinda bad. “Heh...are you alright, Kacchan? Maybe we overdid it…” He mused outloud, jolting when he felt a hand grab his ankle.

“Heh….heh….Deku…” The blonde growled from his spot on the ground, red eyes burning bright. Midoriya paled, trying to run. “K-Kacchan! What-AH!” The green haired student squeaked when Bakugou brought him to the ground, pinning him effortlessly. “DIE, DEKU!” He roared, going in for the attack.

All Might was about to break it up when Midoriya squealed, immediately bursting into bouts of childish laughter as Bakugou dug into his torso, leaving no spot untickled. “AHH! Ahahahahahahha! K-Kahahahhahahchahhahahhan! Stahahhahahahp!” He cried, soon finding himself in the same position Bakugou was just in.

The elder hero laughed softly, backing away from the boys as his mighty form began to fade, knowing he didn’t have much time left. “They’ll be fine, I know it.” He mused softly, a warm smile on his shrinking face as he quickly vanished, the sound of Midoriya’s laughter filling his ears as he went.

I hope you liked it! X3

[maisbunny]

𝙥𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | 𝘬.𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪 

PAIRING: nanami x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Promised paper rings, broken hearts, and stolen eternities—all at the expense of the fictional.

CONTAINS: angst, major character death

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

The air was cool where you sat, taking in the view before you. You two were merely children back then. Two kids who were making the most of a grim situation.

“What’s this?” You asked, holding up your tiny left hand towards the sun and admiring the piece of paper wrapped around your finger.

Nanami looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world, tilting his head to the side and raising an eyebrow. “It’s a ring.”

“A ring...made of paper?” You smiled with your eyes full of wonder, staring at the ring as if it were made of gold.

“A ring made of paper,” he repeated your question as a statement, bringing both his knees up to his chest and hugging them with a grin spread across his features—an expression you didn’t see quite often from him. “One day, when we’re all grown up, I’ll buy you a real one. Then we can be together forever.”

Nanami looked straight ahead like a man on a mission, the heat of the sun not nearly as ablaze as the fire of determination that ignited in his eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“We’ll see about that,” you sighed in contentment of the moment, “you’re all bark and no bite.”

The laughter you two had shared echoed all throughout the plains of the riverbank, and resonated in the ears of all the people passing by.

Thousands of memories just like these were etched into your mind like a scar that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you tried to scrub. For when you thought of Kento, all you could see was the scenic view of an orange sunset projecting onto his skin, his golden locks falling over his forehead, and his smile glowing like all the world’s spotlight was on him.

Everything seemed so simple. Neither of you were prepared for the world you had yet to face. You listened to the stories he told you every night when he arrived home from work. You knew about the circumstances of his job, but just because you knew he was a jujutsu sorcerer, didn’t mean you understood the complexities of it. You could never truly grasp how grotesque and cruel curses could be. Not until Gojo stood knocking at your door at 4:17 in the morning.

Groggy eyes and messy hair presented themselves in the mirror of the hallway—your view still disoriented from the daze of slumber.

“Gojo? What are you doing here at this time?”

Though his eyes were sealed behind the fabric wrapped around his head, you could tell they did not gleam as they did before. His mouth was pursed in a tight lipped smile, jaw clenched in an effort to bite back his tongue before saying something he’d regret. The version of himself that was situated in front of you was no longer the happy-go-lucky man he usually was. Instead, he was solemn. The mere fact made you nauseous; fear welling up in the pit of your stomach.

“Let’s go inside,” he stated, but it was closer to a whisper.

The city skyline that illuminated the living room through the floor length window felt lively compared to the inside of your Tokyo apartment—which was now filled with an atmosphere of sorrow. Gojo took your hands in his, calming the chill that erupted from your bones, and placed something small in them. Something cold. Something that gave you all the answers to the questions that lingered in your mind.

“Nanami, he didn’t m—”

“I know,” you shut your eyes and felt your cheeks dampen as you cut him off with a whisper. You already knew what he was going to say. Nanami, he didn’t make it. The unfinished phrase echoed in your ears and your throat felt like sandpaper as you tried to hold in your sobs. “W-we had our whole lives ahead of us. He was supposed to be home by six,” he pulled you into his arms and rubbed your back to soothe the ache, “Gojo, I can’t even see them. How could he be killed by something I can’t see? How can the imaginary take so much away from me?”

“He saved lives,” was all that Gojo could mutter in response.

You opened up your palms to look at the object of your affection and wondered how long he’d kept this in his pocket, waiting for the right opportunity to pop the question. A question that would remain unasked until the end of time.

You shrugged your shoulders and tried to calm your trembling voice. “You know, when we were kids, he promised me he’d buy me a real one.”

“He kept his promise, didn’t he?”

Your eyes scanned the floorplan of the space, imagining what it would’ve been like to build a family within those walls—your gaze residing on the tiled floor when the emptiness of it all left a ringing in your ears. “I would’ve preferred to keep him.”

The air was cool where you sat, the spot which you’d indirectly claimed as your own feeling lonelier without your other half. You watched the sun settle over the horizon, the stage on which it glowed missing its star. The world felt as if it had gotten much darker too quickly—the ring which you were holding up to the sky no longer glistening against the sunlight.

Standing up from your spot and taking the wisp of the willow tree in your fingers, you tied the ring to its branch. In the abyss of night, from afar, at just the right angle, the moonlight hit the diamond in such a way that the ring lost among the leaves seemed as if it were another star in the sky.

You walked away from your spot for the last time, taking all the golden memories of him with you, and confided in the wailing melodies of the wind, “Maybe forever isn’t for everyone.”

all work belongs to maisbunny 2021 © do not copy, modify, or repost my work on any platform.

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[helaintoloki]

Odds and Ends

pairing: Ben Hargreeves x reader, Five Hargreeves x reader

warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of blood, death, unrequited love

notes: listen, the pairings sound odd but they make sense when you read it i promise

prompt: “There’s a time for us, it’s just not now.”

They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes; you witness the moment of your birth from an outsider’s perspective, you revisit your first steps and your first love, you remember the quiet nights of rainfall on the windows and the smell of freshly cut grass on early school morning’s. You can recall how it felt to get your heart broken for the first time and the warmth you felt wrapped in your mother’s embrace. It is quick and long all at once, like watching a movie, except everyone fails to mention what happens once the credits begin to roll. Where do you go? What do you see? What do you do?

You’d been the first to get struck by the Handler’s gunfire, a bullet flying straight through your chest and embedding itself in your heart. You died almost instantly, and despite the pure horror that struck Five at the sight of your gruesome death he could do nothing to save you as he too crumpled to the ground. It was a split second of pain, and then you were gone.

Just as you had been promised, flashes of the life you had lived pass you by with the same quick clicks of a slideshow presentation on a projector. You could see yourself nestled in your mother’s arms, the swaddle of blankets encompassing your figure shielding you from the outside world. You watched your younger self shyly display your powers to a stoic Reginald Hargreeves, seven heads curiously peeking through the crack of the door to get a look at the team’s newest edition while your mother watched on anxiously. You saw the way in which you napped upon Five’s shoulder, the rainfall pattering gently against the window as he read the pages of his favorite novel, and you relived the sadness that came over you at his disappearance. You witnessed the quiet nights of stargazing alongside Ben, experienced your first kiss again and your first time falling in love only for it to end in bloodshed and a snowy funeral with tearful apologies and guilt ridden thoughts. Everything you’d ever lived through plays out in front of you right until the final gunshot, and then everything around you goes dark. There is nothing.

You’re not sure how long you sit in the empty space where life ends and the afterlife begins, but soon enough you find yourself wandering through the doorway that suddenly presents itself to you. There are no clues as to where it might lead, but light bleeds through the cracks and beckons you to step forward before you can change your mind. You’re overwhelmed by the warmth that surrounds you the moment you step foot inside, and it takes you a moment to adjust before you can fully comprehend where you are.

The room you stand in is quiet, sunlight filtering through blinds and coating the cream colored walls in golden hues. Colorful houseplants line the shelves and photo frames fill in the empty spaces— moments from different points of time occupy the frames, stolen glances and hidden kisses and dreamy smiles. You gravitate towards the photo next to the succulent plant and gingerly pull it from the shelf: it’s a photo of you and Ben as children, and with a watery smile you bring the picture close to your chest and clutch it tightly against your heart.

“I thought you’d like it,” a voice says gently, your whole body stiffening in surprise at the sound. A single tear slides down your cheek before you can will yourself to turn around, and you nearly drop the frame at the sight before you. He’s different than you remember him, but he still has the same kind eyes and gentle smile that you missed ever so dearly. His eyes seem to sparkle at the sight of you, welling with tears as he opens his arms to you. “Hi, y/n.”

“Ben,” you whisper in a trembling voice, a choked sob escaping you as you fling yourself into his arms and hug him impossibly tight. You can feel the warmth that radiates from him almost as if he were alive, can sense the way his arms wrap themselves around your waist and squeeze you unbearably close to his chest, and you can savor the sensation of his plush lips pressing against your forehead in a tender kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers, afraid that if he raises his voice any higher he’ll disrupt the peaceful quiet you find yourselves in. “I didn’t expect you so soon.”

“I didn’t either,” you admit with a weak smile. Chills crawl down your spine as you’re reminded of your own death, but you push the thoughts away in order to make room for Ben. After all these years, you’ve finally been reunited with the love of your life, and if you’re being honest you aren’t quite sure how to act. It almost doesn’t feel real, and a small part of you is afraid of waking up and finding that it was nothing but a dream. Ben pulls your attention towards him with the careful guidance of his finger underneath your chin, his reassuring features calming your nerves.

“You’re not dreaming,” he promises you. “This is real, you’re home.”

“I’m home,” you reiterate with a tearful smile before carefully cupping his face in your hands. “I’m home.”

(Five’s body tremors in time with his breathless panting as he struggles to fight against the heaviness of his eyelids. His body is warm and cold all at once with the blood that slowly pools around his figure, and he uses some of the last remaining strength he has to turn his head and look upon your body. You lie lifeless and still, hair splayed around your head like a halo and crimson red seeping through your clothing, and a shuddering breath leaves him at the sight. His first love, his only love, the one that could have been had he not gone against his father’s wishes all those years ago, is dead, and it seemed he could do nothing to stop it. Soon he would join her along with the rest of his siblings in the quiet afterlife, and so would come the final end of the Umbrella Academy.)

“I’m so sorry about what happened to you, Ben. You were so young, you didn’t deserve it, and if I had just-”

“Hey,” he interrupts gently, “it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“But being alone for this long...”

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park,” Ben says with a faint chuckle, “but I’m okay now, we’re okay, and I don’t have to be alone anymore.”

“I missed you,” you profess vehemently. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says with a careful smile, one that slowly begins to dwindle with time.

“Ben?” You prod gently. “What is it?”

(All Five had ever wanted was to keep you safe, whether it be from a scraped knee after a bout of rough housing with Diego or the end of the world, it was his job. You’d fallen in love with his brother in the wake of his absence, something Five could never blame you for no matter how much it hurt, and it was through Vanya’s book that he got a glimpse of the life you had lived without him. Your secret romance with the Horror, your descent into loneliness and isolation after his passing, your work as a nurse under the guise of a fake name so that you could use your gift without anyone ever associating you with the life you had lived as a child. You didn’t want it, and he’s sure you didn’t want this— to die such a horrible death at such a young age when you still had your whole life ahead of you. Five had lived long enough to see what the world had to offer, if he were to die now he’d have all the boxes checked on his list, but you and his siblings still had so much to live for and so many things left to do.

“I just want you to be careful,” your voice echoed in his mind, young and naive and apprehensive about Five’s plan to travel without Reginald’s permission. “Be smart about this, smarter than you usually are, and make sure you come back home.”

“You’re the genius who said we should jump. Right?” Luther. “You’re the one who got us stuck here.”

“Start small.” The voice of his father. “Seconds, not decades.”

Wait a minute, that’s it! By god, that’s it!)

“You can’t stay.”

“W-What? I don’t understand, what do you mean I can’t say?” You sputter, taken back by Ben’s blunt declaration. You were dead, where else could you go, what else could you do besides spend the rest of eternity with the love of your life?

“You can’t stay,” Ben repeats solemnly. “You can’t die yet, it’s not your time.”

“But I am dead! A bullet literally went through my heart, I don’t think you can exactly come back from that,” you protest anxiously.

“I can’t explain it, but trust me when I say that it isn’t time for you yet,” Ben pleads, gently taking your trembling hands in his own and giving them a soft squeeze. “You still have so much to do in life, so many great things. You’re going to get married, you’re going to settle down in a nice little house with cute little kids running around the place, and you’re going to be happy. So happy. But you can’t do that here, so you have to go.”

“Ben, please,” you beg through a sob. “Please, I want to stay here with you. Don’t make me go back, don’t make me leave you, I can’t.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ben shushes gently as he cups your face in his hands and brushes away your falling tears. “Hey, it’s okay. Y/n, I promise you we’ll see each other again, okay? I promise.”

“But I just got you back,” you croak, and Ben can only offer you a trembling smile in return.

“There’s a time for us,” he reassures you, “it’s just not now.”

Ceaseless tears fall down your cheeks as you collapse into his arms, your hands clutching tightly at the fabric of his sweater the same way in which a small child would clutch at their favorite blanket. Ben is warm and safe, he is home, and your heart aches at the thought of having to say goodbye a second time— you could hardly handle the first. You had been inconsolable, your sobs had been gut wrenching for the rest of team, and if not for Allison urging you to eat and take care of yourself you might not have ever recovered from your grief. The universe was unfair and unkind, taking the person you loved away from you not once but twice, and despite how strong you wanted to be for Ben you couldn’t help but feel defeated.

“Will you kiss me while there’s still time left?” You snivel, holding on tightly to Ben’s wrist as he reaches up to cup your face and caress your cheek with his thumb. He smiles, sweet and tender, and pulls you close.

“I’ve waited seventeen years to kiss you again,” Ben professes, and without a second to waste he pulls you in close and presses his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss.

(Time is reversing. Five can feel the blood slowly seeping back into his body, bullet wounds seem to heal themselves and the corpses of his loved ones are beginning to reanimate as everything becomes undone. The pain is nearly gone, and it’s with a newfound determination that Five wills himself back onto his feet and travels back seconds in time to prevent their deaths, to prevent your death.)

You can feel yourself slipping away from him, you’re losing your grip, and despite how desperately you try to cling to him your touch is beginning to fade. Ben can faintly feel your lips against his own and knows that it’s time, but he holds onto you for just a little longer until he can’t feel you in his arms anymore. He pulls away with a bittersweet smile and releases you from his hold, eyes gazing at you for the last time.

“You get a second chance,” he says. “Make the most of it, and don’t worry about me. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

(With a startled gasp Five finds himself back in time just moments before your deaths. Your eyes meet his his frenzied ones and you frown, gently reaching out to him.

“Five? Is everything okay?”

He doesn’t get the chance to answer before he’s disarming the Handler of her firearm, and it’s with that single act of defiance that your death is finally reversed.)

You don’t remember your death and you don’t remember your reunion with Ben. You’re none the wiser, and Five wants to keep it that way. With the Handler dead and the threat of the Swedes gone your life is no longer in danger, and he finally feels like he can breath again.

“You okay?” Your voice sounds gently, pulling the boy back to reality. He gazes upon your figure, wisps of stray hair straying from your braid and a questioning though kind smile on your face, and a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding leaves his lips at the sight of you. You don’t return his affections and you’ll never be together, but he can live with that so long as you’re safe and sound.

“Never been better,” he replies with a closed lip smile. You catch the boy off guard by pulling him into your side and giving his shoulder a tight squeeze, an act of affection only you can get away with, and after a moment has passed you release him with a small giggle.

“Come on,” you gesture as you begin to follow Vanya and the others, “we still have work to do.”

He walks beside you in a comfortable silence, and though he doesn’t know it there’s a faint voice that echoes distantly in your mind, one you can’t place but find soothing nonetheless.

“There’s a time for us.”

And there will be, but for now you’ll just have to wait and see.

[whosscruffylooking]

Instinct Part Two: Interrogations and Intrigue (Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader)

A/N: I'm super excited for this part. Spencer and Reader’s relationship finally has some foundation!

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings! Mentions of suicide and manipulation. 

(Reader’s POV)

I tap my foot anxiously as I peer around the bland and intimidating interrogation room. It looks like something out of a mental asylum in a 1980's horror movie. They want me frightened? They got me.

Count Dracula barges in abruptly and sits opposite from me. I wince at the sound of the metal chair scraping against the cement floor.

“My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner. I'd like to take a moment to get your description of the man who broke into your apartment," he shows no emotion.

I nod, "Well, he had his hood up and a bandana on, but from what I could tell, he had green eyes...maybe blue...or hazel. I'm sorry, I'm not a hundred percent sure. He was just a little bit taller than me, so maybe 5'8 or 9. He climbed out of my window, so clearly, he's at least slightly athletic. He disguised his voice; he made it sound almost like Batman."

He writes down some notes. A statement that the other agent presented to me at the crime scene puzzles me. I decide to inquire for myself.

"The other agent..." "Dr. Reid?" "No, Emma? Emily?" "Yes, Agent Prentiss." "Yes, her. She told me at the ambulance that I might be the key to solving this. What did she mean by that? This wasn't just a one-off robbery? How could it involve me?"

He purses his lips, obviously pondering the right response, "What do you know of the Nomad Boys?"

My heart rate rises, but I promptly disguise my anxiety. "You get straight to the point, don't you," I quip, "I know that they used to operate about a block from my old neighborhood growing up. A lot of people have lost their lives because of them. Both figuratively and literally."

"Are you aware of your brother's involvement with them?" Agent Hotchner examines me.

I gasp. What kind of game is he playing here? I shift uneasily in my seat, "Excuse me?"

"We have significant evidence that your brother Jeremy was involved with the Nomad Boys from 2015 until his death."

I slam my fist on the table, "How dare you. How dare you bring my brother up and implicate him in illegal activities that he had no part in. Is this what you people do? You're so desperate to close a case that you can't admit defeat in then you pin it on people who aren't even here to defend themselves?"

"You seem relatively defensive yourself. Care to explain why?" The emotionless man taunts.

"Two hours ago, I was the victim of a failed robbery, and now I'm being interrogated by the feds about my dead brother? Is that not a good enough reason to get defensive?" I clamor back. 

Tears sting my eyes and threaten to spill over as I dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand, trying frantically to suppress my growing rage. He watches me like a predator to its prey. The sound of my rapid heartbeat muffles my hearing. I can feel my skin heat up with anger. I stare right back, eager to display my disdain for his treatment.

"If you'd excuse me," he gathers his files and leaves the room. I exhale shakily and hastily wipe the stray tears from my eyes, desperate to gain my composure.

(Spencer's POV)

Hotch exits the interrogation room and clutches my shoulder, "You're up. She knows more than she's letting on, even if she doesn't realize it. She will feel more comfortable with you." "Hotch...I-I feel like maybe Emily or Morgan should go in. Not me." "Why?" He glares at me. I swallow the lump in my throat. 

I have a job to do.

"Forget about it," I say, stepping past him into the dimly lit room. She looks up at me with pleading eyes, silently begging me not to put her through what Hotch did. I sit across from her, noticing her obsessive picking at the skin of her fingers. Her knee bounces and lightly taps against the underside of the table.

She takes a deep breath and breaks the stillness, "Whatever it is they are thinking, it's not true. None of it is true. They're wrong." 

"Y/N, I appreciate your willingness to cooperate and come back to the precinct with us and sit in here to be interviewed." 

She throws her head back and laughs, "My willingness to cooperate?Interviewed? You mean interrogated, right?"

"I know this must feel like an ambush," I say, and she jeers, "but I promise if you just hear us out, the sooner we can rule you and your brother out of this." 

She sits up, eyes wide, her posture defensive, "You just said my brother and me. Am I a suspect too? For god's sake, I don't even know what we are suspected of! Do you think I'm apart of the Nomad Boys too?" 

Strike one, Spencer. Don't screw up again.

"I didn't mean it like that, y/n." 

"But you said it," she crosses her arms.

"I need to ask you some questions about your brother's death." 

"I'm going to be sick. Screw you, Dr. Reid." 

I can't manipulate her. I don't want to. I can't use months of researching her to achieve our agenda. 

It doesn't feel right. Why doesn't it feel right? 

But for the efficiency and success of this case, it's required.

"Every day, you wake up in fear of the nightmares that haunt you each night. You live with the images of your brother engrained in your mind. The patterns he used to follow every day have now been adopted by you, most likely in an attempt to keep his spirit alive somehow. You are constantly looking over your shoulder because, still to this day, aspects of his death leave you unsettled and uncertain. You opened the door today because you were under the impression that the person on the other side would be able to offer you insight into your brother's death. He couldn't because he had another agenda, but I can. I can give you that insight; I just need you to work with me." 

I watch as she struggles to fight the pain that comes from masking her fear. I got to her. 

Why do I feel so guilty? 

Her lip trembles as she begins to speak, "I know he didn't kill himself. That's all." "What makes you so sure?"

She releases a sob and then grapples with composing herself, "B-because he loved his family. He loved life. His girlfriend was pregnant; he was going to be a father. What kind of man who was so family-oriented and had such a bright future ahead of him would do that to himself, to his future child?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize he had a child." "Aren't you guys supposed to know stuff like that? Shouldn't you come in here armed and ready with any ammunition needed to break me down?" She cocks her head. "We do. We try to find out all vital information on our suspects and those connected with them." "That's how you know that I follow the same routine as my brother? Have you been watching me?"

I can feel a bead of sweat drip down the back of my neck; I reach my hand around to pat it off and to buy myself time to come up with a sufficient answer. She chuckles, "You don't have to answer that. I've seen you and Count Dracula in there tailing me."

My heart stops, and I swallow unexpectedly, slightly choking in the process. "For professionals, you sure don't take into consideration the fact that most people are suspicious of black SUVs now...mainly because of tv shows. Black Suburbans with tinted windows are either law enforcement or a celebrity. And judging by the fact that no celebrity would ever willingly set foot in my town, I was quickly able to determine which I was looking at every Monday and Friday from 10am to 5:30pm. You should really try getting some red cars, maybe blue, just try and blend in a bit." 

"Actually," I begin falling back on my knowledge as a way to diffuse the situation, "Any vehicle, when suitably modified, can be utilized as a police vehicle, but the most prevalent are those produced or altered by manufacturers for the role of being a police vehicle."

"Validation and dissemination: am I making you uncomfortable, Dr. Reid?" She raises her eyebrow. I adamantly shake my head, "Not at all. I was merely dissecting your point and proving it to be a failed tactic to intimidate me."

She looks at me keenly, but not in the way she had looked at Hotch. No, she peers at me as if striving to convey a message, an offer to be her ally. While locked into her gaze, I can't help but study her. Contrary to all of the times we followed her, hidden within the shelter of our car, I can now learn her up close. She is attractive in a flawed, approachable way. Her vulnerability camouflages a might that even she doesn't perceive exists.

(Reader's POV)

I study him thoroughly. He baffles me. A man in the station he is, maintaining the job he has, and bearing the weight of both victims and perpetrators on his shoulders, should be coarse, bitter, emotionless, much like the first agent who grilled me. Yet, here he is, eyes lighting up when he starts to spout off facts. His nervous ticks overflow, making it seem like he is incapable of withholding the truth of what this job does to him. He doesn't want to put me in this position. He's not like the standard brute that treats this job, and it's prey as if they are nothing but a bridge to walk over to get appreciation and approval.

"I want to help you," he proposes in a hushed tone.

"I know," I whisper, easing back in my seat. 

Unexpectedly, he offers me a wink and then stands from his chair. Stepping over to the door, he clasps the doorknob but delays for a moment. I look at him in anticipation. Looking back at me, he declares, "I'm going to get you answers. I promise you that." And with that, he's disappeared behind the two-way glass. A feeling of being left alone in an alternate universe overwhelms me. 

Spencer is somewhere out there on the side of the good guys, his reputation untainted, with the certainty that he will be going home tonight. I, on the other hand, have lived in uncertainty since my brother died. Here I sit, on the side of the glass that is riddled with darkness and evil. Spencer lives in a world of heroes. But I have been subjected to the world of criminals. I have a feeling, though, that I won't have to navigate it alone. 

Tag list:

@mcntsee