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stucknthemiddleff · 6 months ago

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Safe P2. 1.15

Trust Me - Chris Brown

Bleeding Love - Leona Lewis

Whatever You Want - Meek Mill Ft. Chris Brown

Kiss It Better - Rihanna

Better In Time - Leona Lewis

How To Live Alone - Evan Ross Ft. T.I.

Stuck N The Middle

July•

Dana

My mind was in a million places, not knowing what time it was or even where my phone was.

Did I leave it at the convention dinner table before shit hit the fan?

Where was Erin?

Was she even alive right now?

What was going on?

My thoughts continued to race as I stared at the back of the guy who broke me and was the last straw in pushing me to escape and be in New York in the first place. The guy who, I guess saved my life. Now he was here staring out the hotel window making sure we were safe, from who knows what. We were at some hotel, with the lights in the suite off. I honestly didn't care to have them on right now. It was the first time in seeing Calen again, and now wasn't really a great time to be checking to see if I looked good. Not that it mattered, he didn't want me. As much as I wanted to hate him right now, I couldn't. I was still trying to take in that he was here right now, when I thought I would never see him again.

One things for sure I didn't feel good, even though I was sitting in the same room as him. Since we entered inside after I stared at him in shock in the elevator, he's just been quiet.

Answering calls in hushed toned conversations, from his phone but never making any. There was so much I wanted to ask but really didn't know where to begin. Questions saved from two months ago, and questions from an hour ago.

Busy New York traffic buzzed outside as Calen finally spoke saying, "Are you going to answer my question now?"

His voice sounded deeper, more commanding; but still him. I slowly turned my head back in his direction after looking down in my lap for some time. In the darkness of the room, from the dim lighting of the street lights peeking in I could make out his tall slender figure. His eyes glimmered from the light a little as I tried to focus more on his face. The one that made me feel like I could fly, it gutted me like a knife.

"I'll answer your questions when you answer mine." I replied sternly, Calen did a sigh. It wasn't a frustrated one or annoyed, but more so a relieving type of breath. Standing in his same spot he looked me over then down to the floor.

"I'm sorry." He rubbed down the side of his face with his right hand, still covered by a black glove, "I just haven't heard your voice in so long."

Then there was an eerie pause in the room, which made me confused.

Why would hearing my voice make him feel at ease?

Didn't he not want me or wasn't attracted to me?

Made me feel like a fool, a broken one.

"It's only been three months." I mumbled looking away from him, "Why would you have a care about my voice anyways?"

Not getting a response after a few seconds from him, I looked up to see his face dressed with a defeated expression to the floor.

"I just do."

"I don't understand, if you want to know your answer so badly, you should rewind back three months ago to the last conversation we had; I'm sure you'll get your answer." I retorted coldly staring at my hands in my lap.

"Look...I-"

"Were you apart of what happened tonite at the convention dinner?" I blurted out looking down at the floor, deciding to start with that direction.

Whatever he had to say about his weird looks

at me, I honestly didn't want to hear. I needed to know if he knew what happened to Erin.

That silver gun he had in his hand as he stared at me tonight still kinda made me shiver, never knowing that I would see him in that way. It was still in his coat pocket, and it made my mind cringe.

"Dana." He started, my heart skipped a beat in hearing him say my name, "Anything you want to know I will tell you, but right now isn't the time, I just need know if anyone-"

"No one knows I was with Erin but her." I cut him off feeling like a fool, and how bad things could have turned out if Calen wasn't at that dinner tonite. Should've told Cari where I was going.

"That's reckless." He replied back making me swiftly put my head back up, only to glare at his choice of words. He walked closer to the bed letting me see him more clearly, it ached my heart to even look at him.

"I guess being reckless is a trait we both seem to know well huh?" I muttered staring into his brown eyes of concern. I wasn't buying his concern though, he had answers to questions that I've held onto for so long, I was ready to let them go. But he wouldn't let me.

"At least Cari knew you were here in New York." He countered. I stood up off my position that I sat on the bed, to stare at him. Inhumanly attractive, that played me like I was nothing and I fell for it. From that smile to those eyes....

"All thanks to Cooper who knows so much, right?" I sniffled, "He knew you were here in New York didn't he?"

"Listen to me." Calen breathed stepping closer with his hands in his front pants pockets, "I will explain everything but you have to-"

His phone in his left coat pocket began to ring, keeping his eyes on me he clenched his jaw before answering, "Yeah, thanks."

"What the fuck is going on right now?" I cried in a whisper silently to myself, not noticing that Calen had stepped closer to me.

"You have to trust me, Dae." He spoke in that soothing voice, it made me want to just stop fighting and give in. Saying my nickname.. But I wouldn't, not until I got the truth.

"Why would I trust you, you left me Calen!" I yelled in his face. Trailing his eyes down to my neck, he fluttered his eyelids once before making his pupils connect back with mine. A look of relief washed over his face weirdly.

Licking over his pink plump bottom lip quickly he took a deep breath, "You still, have my chain on."

The chain that bonded us, of course shimmered meekly beneath the collar of my dress, and Calen effortlessly peeped it.

Being so caught up in my mind, I forgot all together that I was wearing the jewelry. It was the last piece that I had of him for the last three months, along with memories. So many of those.

"That could be any chain in the world why would you assume it's yours?" I lowly mumbled feeling like breaking down, but I fought.

Fought the tears that were begging to break through me in front of the only man I've ever loved.

Like acid running through my body, I breathed taking a deep breath, as a small smile and an expression of hurt washed across Calen's light toned face, his freckles raised a bit on his cheeks.

Raising his left glove covered hand he went for his neck pulling inside the collar of his black dress shirt, revealing a chain clenched between the fingertips of his slender fingers.

A charm with the letters of my name, drenched in cut sparkling diamonds was shown hanging from the gold necklace, almost similar to his.

That's when the tears began to fall, as he tried to pull me back in.

But why?

When he dumped me?

I was beyond speechless, what game was he playing at?

"I didn't know you would be here Dana, but I'm asking that you would give me the chance to explain myself. I will. But I need you to come downstairs with me, and get in a car that will take you to safety until I deal with what's going on in this city." Calen begged, placing the necklace back inside his shirt.

Shaking my head, I sniffled again and held myself with one arm, wiping the tears from my eyes with the other. Calen desperately looked like he wanted to comfort me, but kept his feet planted where they were.

"Okay." I finally choked out. Calen's demeanor seemed a little bit more light as we began to leave the hotel room. Guess I'll have to hold off on seeing mom. My feet halted in the hall, lit by the over head lights of the upscale hotel. I turned towards Calen's curious look on me, a hint of caution. I scanned him in his tuxedo noticing just how even more handsome he looked. Looking me over he rose an eyebrow slowly.

"Just because I'm doing this, doesn't mean things between us are.."

"I know." He replied in a knowing tone, obviously already knowing what I was trying to say.

Good.

Once outside in the dark windy night there were two African American, very tall men standing in all black, next to a blood red SUV on the empty street.

Sirens could be heard in the distance as I held my bare arms, feeling like I was being sent to a prison.

Calen hadn't answered any my questions and I would hold him to it eventually to tell me the truth. But I honestly didn't even know when I would see him again.

While one of the tall men began to walk around to the front and get in the drivers side, the other just stood there holding the door open for me.

I looked over at Calen who stood beside me, seeing he was already looking at me. A sadness in his eyes, I couldn't pinpoint on why though. Why would he be acting this way in seeing me again?

"You wouldn't try to stop me if I just ran off." I muttered in confidence. If he truly still cared about me by wearing a chain with my name on it not for show.

"Wouldn't in a million years try to hold you hostage, but I know you have questions and I'm the only one that has answers to them." He boldly stated, challenging me like he has in the past.

Staring in his brown dominant stare, I knew he was right and there was nowhere getting to what I wanted unless I went where he needed me to be to relay the information.

"Thanks, for tonight. Even though I don't know what the hell is going on." I mumbled at him and his soft stare on me came out of nowhere, it melted me. He nodded once maneuvering his hands towards the car for me to get in.

"You will. Soon." He spoke in a sure fact tone, "I promise."

Looking down to the ground I took a deep sigh, climbing into the huge Suburban truck. After my door was closed it suddenly began to rain, drops pattering harshly on top of the car.

Calen didn't move, he just looked up at the sky and then into my stare on him. We kept our eyesight connected until it was impossible as the truck began to drive down the street. Everything felt like a dream, like I was waiting to wake up.

He is different.

The ride in the SUV was short as we finally made it to the airstrip. My bodyguards that I'm sure were armed exited out the truck once coming to an all white jet. One went towards the jet while another made his way to the back of the truck.

Deciding on looking to see what the one behind the truck was doing, I noticed all my luggage I brought from Atlanta was in the backseat.

Inhaling sharply I blinked a few times to calm down, "What the f-"

He opened the back door looking at me through the truck, "Ms. Ross if you'd like to change clothes before boarding the jet by all means do so. I will be accompanying my partner on the jet now."

I stared at my one suitcase and book bag before looking back up at him, waiting for my answer.

"Okay." I nodded, he smiled briefly before walking back past the truck towards the jet.

Wondering if I should of been called Cari I leaned my head forward on the back of the passenger seat. Taking a deep breath closing my eyes, I figured Calen probably wouldn't have let me if I asked.

Why didn't I even ask him where he was sending me?

He could've just faked like he was talking to Cari and Cooper, right?

No, why would he do that?

He wouldn't.

But he did the most hurtful thing he ever could of done. He left me, to do who knows what.

Am I tripping or am I just not listening to my gut?

But he had on a necklace resembling his for me...and the look in his eyes when he took off his mask....

Opening my eyes I sat up climbing over the next row of seats to my suitcase to change clothes.

Fuck it, I've come this far.

After getting dressed I exited the truck, and one of the bodyguards came out of the jet down some steps. Meeting him halfway he did a nod towards me as we bypassed each other.

"I'll bring all your luggage on board." He told me as I just continued to walk towards the jet. Holding on to the railings as I slowly started up the stairs, I realized I had been on two different jets in less than twenty four hours. It made me dizzy just thinking about it. Making it to the entrance I looked in the cock pit seeing two sets of familiar grey and greenish eyes staring back at me.

"Dana!" Cari screeched running towards me, her arms hugged tightly around me. Feeling relief that Calen had been telling the truth on the phone I did a slow smile in my best friends arms.

"Hey Car." I rasped out once she let me out of her grip, still holding on with her hands to my arms.

"Are you okay?" She asked and I nodded. Trailing my eyes from her face, I looked behind her to Cooper who was quiet.

"Cooper." I spoke and he nodded at me "What do you know?"

"Nothing." He spoke too quickly for my interest.

"Bullshit." I muttered at him and he looked away from me standing up out his seat.

"Believe what you want." He mumbled passing Cari and I, "I'm going to go tell the pilot we are ready to go now."

"Where are we even going?!" I yelled at him as Cari just held my hand staring at her brother. He continued walking away until he got to the door entering and closing it back. Looking back to Cari she looked so clueless.

"I have no idea either what's going on, Cooper just came to the apartment and told me to start packing." She told me, which made me even more confused.

Did Cooper really not know what was going on?

Then how the hell did Calen know that Cooper knew where I was?

"Cooper asked about my whereabouts?" I asked her and she nodded walking to go sit back down.

"I had called Calen and cussed him out for hurting you." She sighed, "I guess he then called Cooper because I wouldn't tell him you left to go to New York."

"Why would he care, he broke up with me." I mumbled shaking my head.

Cari shrugged her shoulders slowly, "I don't know, what I'm trying to understand is how he knew to find you at your moms."

"He didn't." I answered lowly looking up at her from my lap, she suddenly had a confused smirk.

"What you mean?" She asked and I took a deep breath deciding to tell her why I was really in New York.

"Ay dios mio Dana!" Cari yelled as the jet started to take off from the ground.

"Cari..." I looked up at her as she paced back and forth in the tight space of the jet.

"Why would you lie to me, even though I hate that bitch. Why go from one person who hurt you and back to the other that hurt you worse?!" She yelled at me.

"I don't know." I looked at my lap taking a deep sigh, "In all honesty Calen hurt me more."

"He seemed so upset when I told him you left." She told me leaning down on the floor by my legs, she leaned her arms on my thighs.

"We are on our destination." Cooper told us making us both look over at him in confusion.

"To where Cooper!" Cari yelled at him, this is the most I've heard her yell in little time frame.

"Puerto Rico." He told us, "Ready for a family reunion Cari?"

My heart sunk into my stomach, but that's where Calen's parents are. He's not here to go with us, this isn't how he told me I would be meeting his parents for the first time.

"Fuck." Cari and I muttered at the same time.

The island was beautiful, it would make sense that Cari and her brothers came from something so exotic looking. We landed and the wave of at least mid eighty degree weather hit me. Even the air smelled different, salty but not too much.

"Hola, welcome to Puerto Rico!" The greeter who stood at the airstrip yelled proudly of his small island. Nothing compared to the big island I'm used to. Cari's whole body movement to the way she carried her face had all changed to something foreign since Cooper told us we were coming here.

It was early in the morning, the sun barely over the horizon, and I was in a daze. Wishing I had picked something better to wear then a plain cut off orange hoodie, high waisted cargo pants and black sneakers. I cringed at myself trying to keep composure as we got into a limo, taking us down a main dirt road. I held Cari's hand as she held mine the whole ride. Eventually we came up to a gated pathway with a big black gate.

The truck stopped at the gate as it opened while we grabbed all our things from the truck. Cooper spoke in spanish to the driver, and I could see from the distance front doors opened to the huge house. Two people walked outside waiting for us, one woman looked Latina along with the man. As we got closer it was ominous seeing Calen, Cari and Cooper meshed in between the two older looking couple.

"Cooper!" The man yelled holding out open arms to hug his son, he looked so much like Calen with light greenish grey eyes, it was scary. Then the woman, Cassie, I could see such much of Cari in her, but her eyes were brown. She looked younger than I would have imagined, she was gorgeous.

"Mia, mio." Cassie gushed hugging them both.

"Hey Ma." They said in unison. Then all eyes were on me.

"Who is this?" Cassie asked, I smiled awkwardly at her, at Calen's mom. In that instant I really wished he was here.

"Mom this is my best friend Dana, we went to school together at Brown." Cari told her, Cassie did a big smile walking up to me.

She embraced me in a big hug she smelled good, "Welcome to my home Dana, it's nice to meet you."

"Thank you, your home is beautiful." I complimented, knowing I hadn't even been inside yet.

Cassie laughed making her husband join in, "Well this is my husband Clay and you already know my two knuckle head kids here."

"Yes." I breathed with a nod at her, knowing really all three.

"Everyone come inside please, its early we just started breakfast, it's nice to meet you Dana." Clay smiled showing crinkles and an older version of Calen's smile.

The inside was even more breathtaking, I didn't understand why Cooper and Cari wanted to leave.

"Clay, breakfast is barely getting started with it being six in the morning of course," Cassie laughed in her thick latin accent I felt like I was the only one that joined in.

"Carielle, take Dana upstairs, let her know where her guest room is." Cassie ordered making Cari give her a side look with an eyebrow raise.

Carielle?

"Yeah sure, we might rest a little before eating." Cari muttered grabbing my hand as I felt dazed walking up the grand staircase. Cooper and Clay walked off as Cassie just watched us go upstairs with a gentle smile. We walked down a long hall and even came to an all white door. Cari opened the door and my jaw almost dropped to the floor.

"Cari." I breathed as she sat down on the front foot rest in front of the bed, "This is your room?"

"Nah, this is one of the guest rooms, Dana don't do that this house has felt like a prison to me for years." She told me, I came and sat by her looking around the room.

"Carielle?" I asked and she sucked her teeth.

"Now I'm Carielle, she is...I don't know." She laughed making me laugh.

"Where's your room?" I asked her, placing my arms around her. She stood taking my hand as we exited out the elegant guest room.

"It's beautiful, so open." I smiled at her and she smiled back with a nod.

"Had my dad renovate it a few times, I haven't been here in years and they practically kept everything the same. All my childhood stuff is in a box somewhere in the garage." She told me shaking her head. I yawned loudly laying on her bed and she joined me.

"Nap time?" She asked and I nodded. I was beat, not believing I was on a paradise island, in a mansion.

Voices played in my ears, I realized it was a lot brighter in the room, and I tried to feel for Cari on the bed but she wasn't there. Opening my eyes I sat up and rubbed down my face. It wasn't a dream, I was still in the beautiful home that Calen lived as a child. Getting off the bed I walked out the room noticing my suitcase was just by the door as I closed it back close. Going down the hall I followed the voices to back downstairs. There was laughing of all sorts as I made finally down the elegant staircase. I saw Cari, Cooper, Cassie and her husband Clay, but there was also another body standing with them. As I finally made to the entrance of the kitchen Calen was the first to put his brown eyes of mysteriousness on me. My heart stopped in seeing him but I kept my composure.

How many fuckin' jets does he have?

"Hey, we were just about to start lunch." Cassie greeted me with a warm smile, Calen took a sip from something in a glass.

"That's great, I am a little hungry." I nodded.

"Oh yeah, Dana, this is my other son Calen, Cari told me you guys already know each other?" Cassie asked me and my heart stopped briefly looking at him instantly. He looked down at his glass with a small smirk absentmindedly as everyone else began to get food.

Cari looked me over with a panicky looking expression that only I peeped of course, she did it so quickly.

"Um, yes I met Calen when he visited Atlanta." I nodded taking a seat next to Cari at the dining table, once I had my food.

Met is such an understatement.

During lunch everyone went around the table talking, or everyone was too busy indulging in Cassie's delicious empanadas and spanish rice. It was so good, I never tasted food that made me feel like I was in a trance. Calen sat at the left across from me at the end of the table by his father, and Cassie sat on the other end. Cooper directly across from me and Cari to my left.

Lucky me to being so close to Cassie for her to ask me questions like, "So Dana what type of work do you do?"

Smiling up at her I took a sip from my cup of fruit punch, placing it gently back on the table. Cari looked over at me as so did Cooper in awaiting my answer with their mother.

"I'm actually unemployed right now." I admitted, and immediately felt Calen's eyes dart to my face.

"What do you mean, you quit your job Dae?" Cari asked me, I looked her way and nodded seeing in my peripheral Calen had sat up in his chair giving the topic his full attention now than any topics before.

"Yeah, I didn't feel it was for me and looking for something different." I nodded not ashamed at all by my decisions.

"It's nothing wrong with that sweetie, finding what you love to do, it doesn't happen over night." Cassie encouraged making me smile with a nod at her.

"What are you going to do for money now?" Cari asked me. I looked over at Calen seeing the same question with a confused look at me quickly looking away.

"Carielle, don't ask such personal questions, she obviously wasn't-"

"Don't tell me what to and not ask my friend, you just met her I've known her for-"

"Cari it's okay." I stopped her before she said something that would be unnecessary.

After lunch everyone kind of dispersed as I decided to go unpack and stay in Cari's room, sleeping so far away from her didn't feel right. She was outside on her patio talking to Bryson. There was a soft knock at the door suddenly.

"Come in." I called out. The door opened, with Calen standing in the doorway. He leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Ready to talk now?" He asked, I looked over my shoulder at Cari before turning back towards him.

"Yeah." I nodded following him out of the room.

*BONUS*

Dana

Walking slowly up another set of stairs, Calen stopped at an all black door with a gold knob. A window overlooked the stairs shining in my face as I waited for him to walk through. Going inside the doorway, I came to another room which I assumed to be his.

Walking inside, it was a totally different place inside the home, fully him and him only. He closed the door making me turn around to see him leaning against it.

With a look of so many different emotions he crossed his arms over his chest again,

"You quit your job?"

"Yeah, I did. Isn't someone going to question us being up here?" I spoke in alert as he just stared at me.

"No." He responded.

"Calen, why are you looking at me like that?" I asked him, it wouldn't be in a way someone would look that wasn't interested.

"Looking at you like what?" He asked softly staring deeply in my eyes.

"Like you want me, and I know that you don't." I shrugged at the words even though it hurt, I was done being hurt by him.

"You don't really know that." He spoke confusing me.

"What?" I asked scrunching my eyebrows, "I thought we were up here to talk about why what happened last night happened."

"We are." He replied licking over lips slowly.

"Well then talk, and stop staring at me like you..." I trailed off looking in his eyes that had instantly made me feel warm.

Taking a deep breath he looked away from me clenching his jaw,

"On the night that you were expecting me to come back to your apartment, I was kidnapped, by Erin." He told me and that was it, if he wasn't going to be serious I was done.

"Let me leave Calen, this is rubbish." I shook my head at him.

With a chuckle he did a low smirk at me,

"You think I'm lying?"

"Yes." I squinted at him, he really was jealous of Erin since I went back to her. Going in his front jeans pocket he pulled out his phone. After tapping on the screen for a while, he walked closer to me, handing me his phone.

It was a video, with Erin on it, I clicked play and listened to what it said....

Thanks For Reading!😍

#chris brown #ella mai #first love #writer #black tumblr #black love #black women #puerto rico #love island usa #lovers #love #jasmine sanders #cassie #cassie ventura #tropical #paradise #team breezy #breezy

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multiverseofmiracleshq · 2 years ago

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For the whole history of SUSAN ‘SUE’ STORM, please click here.

← ONCE THERE WAS AN IDEA TO BRING TOGETHER →

If you had asked Susan Storm what she thought her life would look like, she’d never have been able to guess the truth. After the accident, the four impacted couldn’t control their powers and spent a year in the Baxter Building virtually hiding from the world while Reed frantically tried to reverse what had been done. As soon as her body became more stable, Sue began to come to terms with what happened. She pushed Reed to accept their new paths so that they could reenter society and make good with what they had been given. It took a while, but as things outside began to get worse and worse, Susan eventually got through to the others. As it stands, she’s not entirely being some kind of poster girl for the team now dubbed the “Fantastic Four”, but she’ll deal with it if it means that they get the chance to help people. It’s a full time job, but Susan’s also working on her first doctorate in the emerging field of multiversal theory. The multiverse had something to do with the accident when their ship got caught in a rift. Even if it can’t be reversed, it can hopefully be understood. No matter what’s happened in her life, Susan’s refused to stay down. Now’s no different even if it took a while to get back on her feet. The Fantastic Four are officially here to stay.

← A GROUP OF REMARKABLE PEOPLE TO SEE IF THEY →

✗ REED RICHARDS (PRIME) is infuriating at times. He’s proud, arrogant, brilliant and occasionally impossible. Susan knows all of that about him but loves him all the same. She’s never said the words, of course, but she was close to before the accident. Everything changed after that. Reed changed. He became cold and removed. Susan had a good idea that it was stemming from his guilt, but she still missed him. The year after they gained their powers was hard and having Reed withdraw made it worse. He saw them as something to fix; Susan knew they were never broken. She hopes Reed can obtain some sense of peace about their situation. Susan isn’t sure if she needs to move on until he manages to do so, but she doesn’t want to. She wants Reed, with all of his flaws and idiosyncrasies. He just needs to get out of his own way.

✗ JOHNNY STORM (PRIME) can be a handful at times, but he’s Susan’s handful. Because she’s eight years older than her brother, the responsibility of raising him fell primarily to Susan. She did her best and hopes Johnny knows that even when they disagreed she loves him unconditionally. If Susan could, she’d protect him from all harm. Him being caught up in the accident and suffering afterwards when he couldn’t control his powers broke her heart. Now, she has to trust that her little brother is going to be okay. He’s got powers and he’s learning how to use them. Johnny’s good at landing on his feet.

✗ BEN GRIMM (PRIME) deserves better than what Susan gave him right after the accident. If she could, she’d rewind time and never have called him a “thing” in her shock at his new appearance. Ben having feelings for her never crossed Susan’s mind. As far as she’s concerned, he’s a good friend and like family. There’s no weirdness in their dynamic at all. Susan feels for Ben and what the accident did to him. Hopefully, he can find a way to be happy once more.

← COULD BECOME SOMETHING MORE →

✗ FANTASTIC FOUR – The public named the group that Susan has spent the last living in the Baxter Building with as they hid away from the world. Susan’s seen the potential that they possess for a while, and she’s glad to see them out and helping people. She’s been of the mindset that they got these abilities for a reason for a while now; it was just about getting the others — and Reed — to see the same. There’s still a sharp learning curve and a bunch of kinks to work out, but Susan thinks they’ll be just fine in the long run.

✗ OTHER AFFILIATIONS – n/a

← & IF WE CAN’T SAVE THE WORLD, WE’LL AVENGE IT →

✗ AGE → 27 ✗ MULTIVERSE ORIGIN → earth-prime ✗ SPECIES → mutated human ✗ ETHNICITY → up to player / same as johnny storm ✗ SECRET IDENTITY → public ✗ RELATIONSHIP STATUS → open ✗ FACECLAIM → victoria pedretti ✗ AVAILABILITY → taken

← FUN FACTS →

deeply religious but keeps it to herself

has not unlocked the full spectrum of her abilities yet

working on a phd in multiversal theory alongside reed

#susan storm #fantastic four #earthprime #taken #taken female

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yanderefairyangel · 1 year ago

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10 - Zephia sorta gave up on life... yes

I mean, why wouldn’t she use the time crystal she made for herself to turn back before being beaten to death by Alear and Veyle otherwise ?

I explain it too in the Mauvier deep dive but the Hounds’ name are based of the french name of colors, and Zephia’s name, Sepia is a mix of Griss, Marni and Mauvier’s color name.

Losing them means that Zephia lost 2 elements of what made her her, even if she never treated them properly anyway nor would admit deep down she needed them more then they needed her. After all, she still tried to have Mauvier turns side even after he made it clear that she lost him forever the moment she pludged the knife into Marni’s chest, she still called the Hounds family even if she had this super messed up idea of a family and that her bound with Griss is at the same time pure, genuine and... ducked up as hell because this man is literaly obsessed with her, idolize her which is ... exactly the kind of love she yearned for, (WHAT ?!) but yeah she did realized she messed with the Hounds and she isn’t really one to acknowledge her mistake now, is she ? She choosed to walk down this path till the end.

What’s more, her other and real essential goal, her only purpose, her reason to live, the thing she though would brought her salvation and still could clung into the delusiong of it happening is going away as Sombron is drawing closer to his goal and sure, she might not know about 0Emblem and Sombron’s project, but we, the audience, knows that he never intended to give her the child she wanted since his plan was just to get the rings back so he could leave this world as quickly as intented, so to not face the disappointement and because she had no others reason to live, she decided to give up. And while making this decision she still decided to help Alear and Veyle to get it back at Sombron. So she already gave up all ideas of “cleaning the slate” and just decided to accept whatever fate she ended up having, conscious of having ruined herself the family she could have had if she had actually tried to love them correctly.

(NB: I am still bringing this up because I saw some people calling it a plot hole, but while I can explain it like this, I think the most obvious answer to it not being a hole is that the time crystal she created is drastically different then the one Alear uses. Alear uses a time rewind crystal, the one Zephia made is a TIME TRAVEL crystal. Those are different in the sense that time rewind means you rewinds, hence if for example your arm gets injuired and you rewind back to the moment before you get injuried, then your injuty will disappear because you have never been injuried to begin with. However, if you time travel, your arm will still remain injuired, but you will face a double of you before he gets injuried. So even if dying Zephia had used it for herself, she would still be dying, but she would have met her pastself like Alear and Pastlear in chapter 24)

Death was literaly the only possible fate for her, unlike Mauvier she could not have joined you. Not with all of that. It’s because of her choices and in truth, she was incapable of choosing another path for herself since it’s the one she created for herself and embrace it. To stay true to who she is and what she wanted, she could never have choosen another path. What mattered was her wish but only when it’s too late does she realize it was already here. Because it’s how abusers are ; they only realize too late their mistakes, only when the glass was broken are they thinking about how they could have never broke it in the first place, so only when her death arrived is Zephia finally able to realize that she destroyed herself her own wish.

All of this makes Zephia a much deeper character then she is, it’s explain her motivations and it aligns with Engage’s commentary on family overall, but it definetely doesn’t make her seems like a reedemable or sympathetic villain because she is just as stupid as Sombron, the only thing she has over him is that she ends up realizing how blind she was, but whatever good she might have done, it was already too late. She is also one Sombron’s victim but unlike Veyle who was completely brainswashed and Rafal who was still possesed, she completely gave up on reality and try instead to embrace a shadow because it’s easier to dream of an utopic family than actually fight her own toxic tendency to built a solid fundation, only when it’s too late does she realize that she what she could have built was there if she just decided to open the eyes, but her tragic side is really that she could not because she wasn’t ready to accept that love is also giving love and accepting to suffer the loss of it.

And oh boi, she really is a piece of... wow, her story is sad but at the same time she is so messed up... there really is something about character not wanting to open the eyes eh ? Regardless Zephia would have been way less tragic had she been redeemable cause guess what ? the reason why tragedy works so well is because we all know that if the character had made things differently the outcome would have been better. That’ s the thing with tragic characters, whatever decision they are lead to take the wrong and worst one even out of free will for whatever reasons. Another reason as to why I think that still makes Zephia an irredeemable jerk that still don’t have completely stupid reasons is that there is simply nothing she could have done to make ammend. Unlike Veyle and Rafal who hurted people unrelated to them in any way and because of a mind quite altered, and in Veyle’s case completely, Zephia hurted directly Veyle and used her as a pawn, and killed Marni. Her other victims were only indirectly her victims, since it was the Other Veyle’s doing and Other Veyle was shown to be a sentient being capable of making choice of her own even if Veyle can’t be held responsible for it as it was her other persona created by Zephia, but Zephia never gave Other Veyle any order. The Fell Princess may be her creation but it’s a creation she left able to develop a will of her own. So the people that would have to forgive Zephia are people she always rejected and would always no matter what because she can’t help it, even with Veyle’s kindness and her feeling for Mauvier, she was already past the point. Why do you think that only when she is gone do we learn that maybe she had her reason to be a jerk ? That’s not even comparable to Veyle which was obvious that she was mind control nor Rafal that before the last fight showed signs that he migh actually be slightly mind control even with less intensity then Veyle if you recall his dialogue with Nel.... Zephia showed no signs which is why her turning back makes no sense for many players because of how it wasn’t prepared and that’s normal it doesn’t make sense, Zephia’s whole point is that it was too late for her, so the explanation also come when it’s too late. She can’t be redeemed anyhow anyway.

* in the JPN version, she simply says “it’s so sad however” which means she does shows some empathy with Sombron’s victim but she still chooses to repress those feeling and be a complice of this.... remind me how the Internet in it’s infinte wisdom though there could be something in the game telling you taht you should forgive Zephia when all we learn about her all conclude to the obvious fact the story condamned her already and that if her being a tragic character works so well is because she works on a “it’s to late basis”? Ah yes, right, 3H.

post scriptum : when I am speaking of Zephia being "cursed" I am not implying that she was possesed unlike Rafal and Veyle, it simply is a reference to the Mélusine story since folktales rely heavily on symbolism and curse/spell and the sort of have heavy symbolic values, in the case of Mélusine, her curse turns her into a monster in disguise, a woman who lost her humanity shown through her monstrous appearance and whose only salvation is the love of a family but she is unable to break her "curse" and as a result becomes a the damned being deprived of love and in this case, the damnation of a mother who cannot be here for her children despite loving them, essentially turning into a being who cannot offer them the love and care she wish she could;

4 Hounds deep dive part 4 : Zephia

In the Hound family, I demand : the mother/older sister. Let’s break down evul momy lizard.

So of course SPOILERS AHEAD and no, whatever postive things I migt say about this piece of lizard meat, I don’t like her nor do I justify any of the things she has done but if I have to be critical, I’ll have to put my biais aside (I'll do the same thing as for Marni, reblog and add)

So Zephia, or if you prefer as I like to call her, Aversa 2.0 is basically a mix between Aversa and Nyx : she was some sort of genius talented baby mage dragon since according to both her and Mauvier, she had stronger dragonic impluse, far stronger then average Mage dragon so I guess dragonic impulse are linked to genetics in the Engage world ? Cause she says it’s “a gift” so it’s innate, not as if she spend hours practicing, ... in others words like Aversa and Nyx but because she is too OP, she ended up blowing up her home town, killing her own family in the process

That’s what we know of her backstory. A woman so OP she could have been the Fell Dragon if Sombron wasn’t there. This events tooks place when she was young but at some point, she ended up working for Sombron. Since Sombron is over 3 000 and arrived 1 000 years ago in Elyos after his family got killed, coupled with the fact that Zephia is over 2 500, this means that Zephia’s rampage tooks place at least 1 000 years after Sombron’s arrival in Elyos since he and Lumera since they are of the same age where child. As a loyal servant of Sombron, when he was sealed away, she immediately worked in order to bring him back, watched over sleeping Veyle in her temple and eventually took over Griss, Marnie and Mauvier and forms the Hounds, a “group whose goal is to serve Sombron and protect Veyle”. Once Veyle awoke, seeing her gentle personality, Zephia began her manipulation to “fix” her and if she is very manipulative with Veyle, she is actually incredibly loyal to the Fell Princess (that’s how i call Evil Veyle) since this version of Veyle is the perfect version. She is so devoted to Sombron that she puts every of his needs and desire before everything to the point of becoming blind and... not very bright cause she is incredibly dumb sometimes... eh, but basically she is the perfect pawn for Sombron because she is driven by a desire, a specific desire ; that Sombron would be the father of her own children. So now, here we go.

The main thing with Zephia much like the other villains in this game, she is driven by the desire of love and family

1 - Zephia la Mélusine

Melusine is a unique class that debuted in Engage, and is reserved to the only 2 mage dragon (or rather Full Mage dragon) that can join our party or is an ennemy in Engage, Zelestia and Zephia. Described as “an alluring magic knight who rides an evil dragon”, it’s name is based on a creature from European folklore, la fée Mélusine, a Nixie.

There is a lot of version of her story, but most famous as her being cursed by her mother to turn into a a dragon half woman each Saturday and that her only salvation would be to find a man who would accept to marry her, to have her children and to respect the oath of never seeing her bathing each Saturday. At some point, Melusine meets a man called Raymondin, a young lord who accidentally killed his uncle and helps him in return, he accepts to marry her and promise her to never spy on her as she bath in secret every Saturday. They have children most of them having monstruous feature according to foklore, but they are of the number of ten. However, Raymondin’s brother, the count of Forez encourages his brother to spy on her by saying she might be up to something bad * cough, cough cheating * and of course, being the jealous husband type Raymondin eventually ends up spying on her and discover her dragon tail. The version varies from there but all ends the same : Mélusine, desesperate as her husband’s action condamned her to endless damnation, she screams out of despair, and fly out of the window (yes cause she is a dragon/fairy so she had wings with her tails... don’t ask me ok, it’s a mythological figure) but she returns at night to caress her kids, and legends as it that at night when she can’t enter the place to take care or see her children, she spent the entire night crying out of despair and that when someone of the family dies or that her family’s good pass onto someone else, she screams and laments. Her names in breton means “La Mielleuse” = the Sweet/The Smooth

Now bear with me : Mélusine was a dragon-woman yearning for family and whose salvation relied on founding this family but she was robbed of it because of an invidual’s toxic behaviour... reminds you of someone ? It’s pretty obvious that not only her design, her class and story macthes with this story, that’s preety much why the dev decided to name her class that. Zephia’s story aligns pretty much with that of Mélusine, she too seeks salvation in family only for it to ends tragically but their fate is rather different however.

2 - Zephia and the meaning of family

When exactly did she started to be obssessed by it ? Well...

After this conversation... very weird conversation if you ask me. I mean, Zephia associate the words “children” with “subordinate. To which Sombron answer by “If you require some of those [loyal subordinnates], then just do what I do. Make children”. Sombron’s answer make sense with how he is. Cause look at the definition Sombron gives of family

(NB to me, I gotta make a post about the meaning of family cause the more this goes, the more complex it gets)

Regardless by Sombron’s definition, children are synonynoms of subordinates but the interesting bits about Zephia is that what seems to have drawn her attention was this part

She comments that it’s a “revelation” and this comments obviously shows that Sombron put something knew in her mind.

What Zephia however doesn’t seems to realize is that Sombron doesn’t care about his children love and that his children most definetely did not loved him, but rather feared him with the sole exception of Veyle but Veyle was too young at the time and overall remained ignorant of a lot of things but Veyle is another topic.

Upon this thoughts, Zephia tries to remember her family. She obviously doesn’t because of several reason : other then the fact that she was young when her rampage occured, it’s well established that because of their lifespan being longer than human’s, dragons often forgets a lot of things the more time passes, but even more than an average human brain.

Basically, Zephia’s definition of family aligns with the one given by Sombron but the difference is that Sombron makes kids because “power” whereas Zephia wants kids because she want Luv... and that’s where it gets interesting

3 - Zephia break down : a woman who yearned for love

This is the parts where you see that Zephia isn’t a comically evil lady but a character with actual motivations. Just like the character her class is named after, Zephia seeked for the love of someone, that someone be her child.

That’s how Mauvier describe Zephia to Zelestia, but note that he mentions how above all her negative traits, she is lonely. In the full convo, he said the last part of the sentence with a sad look and a sad tone which are notable speaking of Mauvier, a character that emotes very little and most importantly who resent Zephia for killing Marnie. What I like about this support is that Mauvier begins by saying it’s his point of view and perspectivism is going to be important about the Hounds in general, but even though what he saw and knew of Zephia was her harsh and destructive side, he was also able to sense her loneliness.

That’s not that surprising because Mauvier is Veyle’s knight, and who was the most lonely person Mauvier ever met ? Veyle. And who also wanted a family and love ? Veyle. Basically, Zephia shares a lot of common things with Veyle (excuse me, i have to wash my mouth for saying this I hope it’s the last time) : that is to say

1 ) they both are terrible lonely

2) they both yearns for the love of family

3) they both yearned for Sombron’s attention + got contaminated by him (to some extent)

Zephia was after all resposible for the death of her own family even if she could not control it and who knows how many years she spent all alone until she met Sombron and entered his service ?

She even express the wish to see her parents once again but that’s not all

It’s revealed that the reason why Zephia never allows herself to get attached to any of Sombron’s children is to protect herself from sadness* since she knows he will dispose of them sooner or later. A kind of “ your goldfish is gonna die within 2 days, why bother getting attached ?” mentality. Or if you prefer this

This also explain her entire relationship towards Veyle.

Regardless, Zephia’s relationship to love is actually quite complicated because when she dies, we have this whole conversation with Griss

And when say that, guess what ? I’ll believe her. Zephia really though of the Hounds as her family, no matter how toxic she was towards them... because of her complicated story with love. Even Veyle mentions that Zephia showed kindess towards her (though we all know why eh) but she was shown to be capable of acting both as a loving mother and an abuser because Zephia remained lonely during such a long time that she forgot how it feels to be love and a family, but most importantly because the only model of a family she saw during all these years was : Sombron’s. A toxic environnement where violence was required to have what you wanted, those kids had to kill in order to survive themselves and she also saw those children being killed in awful ways. Sombron literaly tasked her with getting care of the corpse... yeah. Basically, Zephia’s problem is that she yearns for the love of her children but she doesn’t know HOW to love them nor even express it, mainly because the only familial environement she remember is a... no actually toxic is an understatement when it comes to describing the experience that is being Sombron’s children. Zephia’s love manifest itself through her attitude of being harsh and destructive despite her motherly attitude and before someone acts like “toxicisty isn’t love” yes, I know that.

HOWEVER, toxicity can be a result of love, or rather love can create a toxic behaviour. All feelings are like medicine, medicine is somthing that can cure you or poison you depending on how you use it. Anger can be the fuel of toxic behavior but we sometimes need it, same thing for sadness. Love may be what we all yearn for, but there is no denying that it can also be what freed the worst in all of us. I think the movie that shows that best is Luis Bunel’s masterpiece, El.

But I digress, what is important is that Zephia is incapable of being a loving mother because the only “love” she witnessed was the one given by Sombron to his children.. so yeah any family she could have based on this influence was bound to be ducked up. She wanted to and to be loved, but because of Sombron’s influence, she was incapable of understanding the real meaning of family even though she still had one thing over Sombron and that was to understand that a family can bring you the love you desire which Sombron never even consider since he seems to consider his children to be like the humans that believes in him. She was still able to praise her “children” when needed but still gave them violent punishement when she judge it necessary. if Zephia is Melusine, then Sombron is at the same time Raymondin and the one who cursed her. By uttering the cursed words that made her want to have a child, he actually doomed Zephia to crave for something she is incapable of having and that would dommed her. My personal commentary on Mélusine’s story was precisely that she needed love to be saved, but not just her husband, but her loving family and that it’s precisely the inner toxicity of her husbanf, his jealousy that doomed her to remain a monster who would still love her children but unable to remain by their side. Sombron’s influence is like a curse (and don’t worry Rafal, one day I’ll talk about what he did to you) and he also cursed Zephia, corrupted her with his toxic view on family. In that regard, that makes the ressemblances between Veyle and Zephia ever more barrant; she too after all, was a tragic woman who yearned for the love of someone, her child.

She also bears strinking similarities with Sombron : Sombron seeks 0 Emblem, his Elys, his ideal. Zephia has eyes only for him.

Zephia confirms she had no romantic feelings for Sombron and that she wasn’t exaclty looking for his affection unlike what Mauvier claimed even though you could say that maybe Zephia did not wanted to admit it, but seeing how things are presented I believe Zephia more. What is important is that she pushed everyone away for Sombron, but not really for him, but for what she wanted him to be : the father of her child. Just like how Sombron become obsessed by 0 Emblem to the point of not seeing anyone, Zephia became blinded by her desire to have a child. When Veyle fights against her, she says “ You don’t see me, do you, Zephia ? You see me and you think of Papa.” Sombron’s influence on someone just as lonely as he was is obvious : he was a lonely dragon seeking for the love of only one person to the point of making everyone suffer and not caring, and Zephia repeated the same schema on the Hounds, with the difference that she did care about them to some extent.

Proof ? Well, she still leaves Mauvier and Marnie chances to get back on her side, when she fight Mauvier, Mauvier still talks about how he truly believed they were family but in his support with Zelestia he will take this back, though for Zephia they were indeed family because to her, that’s how family is like. Even as they are fighting in chapter 23, Zephia still offers Mauvier to return to her side. Zephia’s attitude definetely was shaped by Sombron’s influence since she became almost like him and guess what ?

Mauvier may be talking about magic powers here, but I am not (especially seeing the allegory there can be within Sombron’s magical power), what I am saying is that Zephia could have been an equal to Sombron’s toxicity in family if it weren’t for 2 different things : one, she is aware that family mean love. 2, she ends up realizing herself how blind she was and love did deliver her (and death too, incidentally).

#fire emblem engage #fire emblem emotional damage #mélusine #fire emblem #four hounds #zephia fe #zephia fire emblem #fe engage

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yanderenightmare · 4 years ago

Text

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncon, profanity, abuse, anger issues, anxiety, arson, bullying, child neglect, child abuse, drugs, addiction, anorexia, guilt, pills, unprotected sex, stalking, trauma

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

IN CASE OF FIRE: PUSH ALARM - PART TWO

IN THE TRAILER

She ran away from him in the hallway.

He’d warned her of what would happen if she did.

Knowing it was a matter of when as the next day he was left waiting, grazing the halls of where she’d left him with a kicked ball-sack on the dirty school-floors, all lovesick and frenzied with fire ants raging over his skin and a manic promise that one way or the other he’d get her. Lying in suspenseful spiteful wait to tell everyone what type of slut the little spitball in class 3c General Studies really was.

But, timing was everything, and as the day went by without him spotting her he realized the opportunity to ruin her reputation in school wasn’t going to rear its head.

She was home…

Sick.

Or, that’s what she’d told the school. One quick question at the reception told him so.

She was home.

Home in that run-down trailer-park sorry-excuse for a home she despised, the one she cried about so often, the one with neighbours who didn’t give two shits worth a damn about who she was or that her mother was a crackhead-whore in no position to take care of her.

She was there instead of at school begging him to stop, begging for him to give her a second chance, begging him to kiss her, like she was supposed to do.

Standing outside her trailer, he wondered if whether her mom was home or not. He wondered if either one of her neighbours would care if they saw him break in, if it even was considered breaking in.

He spotted her mother slouched on a beach-chair beside some other trailer with a needle still stuck to her arm, ugly destroyed skin sizzling in the summer-heat, mouldy flip-flops sticking to her feet.

He cringed at the sight of it, but knew then that his pursuit would go on unprovoked, which at the very least brought him some sense of relief.

She’d gotten in through scholarship as she in no form or way could afford a school like UA. That much was clear, unlike how unclear the crystal-meth shards decorating the plastic salon-table placed on the outside of their van was.

She transferred half-way through the first year, all on the account of pure hard work.

He could respect that.

He did respect that. Given she was quirkless and all. It was the reason she’d caught his eye.

It all went sideways when she rejected his invitation to Homecoming.

He’d already gone miles away out of his comfort-zone, out of his element, talked himself into asking her out, only for her to turn him down.

Him.

Best student in Hero-course 1A at the time.

Rejected.

He knew it was petty of him to bully her because of it, but… she didn’t only make a fool out of him, she broke his fucking heart.

He could have listened to Kiri, and tried to forget about her through some other extra, but... he wanted her. He’d decided. She was his. And a quirkless trailer-rat like her was in no position to just say no.

In some sick sense he believed she deserved better. Him being better. But, he would like for her to ask for his help, instead of him just giving it to her. He would like to see her grovel, beg, just a little bit, or a lot. He wanted to see her regret her decision. He wanted to see her sorry. He wanted to see her want him as much as he wanted her. And he wanted it to be her who initiated it.

But… he could see that wasn’t happening. He could see that his unorthodox methods of courting her through continuously trying to bend her until she broke only consisted of her rewinding or snapping back like a rubber-band.

She was distracted, too busy being broken by what life had given her, too busy with juggling different shifts, bills, schoolwork, to be thinking about him and how he pushed her around a bit at school.

He eyed the cracked paint of the faded trailer with much the look of a snob on his face. Fingers brushing over the door-handle, testing how much noise it would make if he were to pick the lock, coming to a complete loss.

He could barely believe it… the door was unlocked, and when he stepped inside he was even more distraught to see there was no existing lock there to be locked in the first place.

Meanwhile her mother was too busy slowly dying to better protect her daughter from depraved humans who could come and do just about anything they wanted with her.

Meaning… just look at him.

Soft snores brought him back to where he was once he closed the door behind him. Making the short way to the source of the groggy sounds, feeling his stomach flutter at the thought of how wrong it was of him to be there, sneaking about like some love-obsessed sick stalker, getting turned on by hearing his prey sleep.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

And why didn’t he care enough to stop?

He stood at the foot of her bed, hands in the pockets of his trousers, head tilted to the side to view her sleeping frame.

Sleeping on top of the covers, not under.

He doubted it was because of the heat, the same way he doubted the mattress beneath was clean.

She was curled onto her side, knees bent and tucked up. Cute with that teddy-bear she used as a pillow, silly and stupid but cute because of it, especially in her uniform despite having left the tie and blazer off.

She was wearing her uniform.

Meaning... she’d either gone to bed with her clothes on and slept through the entire day, or she had planned on going to school this morning, but weaseled her way out like the weakly coward she was.

Well, in that case… what he was about to do would serve her right then...

Ought to teach her lesson.

He lifted his hand out of his pocket, producing a finger to poke her ankle softly, before stroking up a path alongside her socks, all four other digits joining in the stride before the fabric came to an end and his callous fingertips glided onto the doughy flesh of her leg, over the dome of her knee and onto her even softer thigh, coming to the edge of her skirt.

He always liked her in that skirt.

That’s where his mind was at as he started lifting to see what underwear she was wearing, yet never getting that far as something sharp dug into each side of his wrist.

Her nails weren’t of course any close to lethal, yet managed to surprise him as she whipped around to meet him, digging the talons into his roughened skin.

She might not have prioritized figuring out who it was that was currently touching her in her bed, but she had assessed the situation enough to know that someone was in fact in her house and touching her, something of which is not a good omen when you live where she lived, nor in any other situation for that matter.

He tried subduing the splash of struggles that followed her awakening by climbing and crawling some further up on the bed in order to control what myriad of flailing limbs came at him.

Soon, hands that had primly started clawing at him were safely locked in his much larger hands.

“Oi, relax! It’s just me!”

As if it being him would have any other effect than of rising her already racing heartbeats. Yet, even as her lungs heaved for as much air as her tight chest would allow her, he managed to capture her focus, her hands pinned to each side of her head whereas her feet were stopped amidst their kicking, crushed beneath the weight of the much stronger, much more encompassing mass and weight of Katsuki’s legs.

He hunched over her, back arching with his face a mere half-foot away from her own, the only thing supporting his upper-body being his arms, which were stretched out and grasping at her wrists, pushing them into her pillow.

Her eyes were large with craze-ridden fear as they locked with his recognizable carmine ones.

“Bakugo?”

Shocked and scared, with the creeping feeling of anticipation waving over her again, now all for different reasons then when she first understood there was an intruder in her caravan.

Somehow, it being Bakugo gave her an even starker unsettling eerie feeling than if it had been a total stranger. Maybe because oblivion is bliss and knowing what is to come makes the inevitable that much more inescapable.

Still, she demanded he tell her, even though she thought she might already know the answer.

“What are you doing? Why are you here!?”

“You weren’t at school.” He stated, spoken as though it preforming as explanation enough, though serving as far from it to the girl beneath him, the confusion shown in the way she scrunched her brows together.

He noticed, contemplating whether or not he should make his reasons known, but deciding against it and for playing with her for just a little while longer.

“I thought, since you managed to wiggle your way out of your punishment at school, I’d bring the punishment to you.”

He searched her features for any cracks in her composure, but though she looked beyond uncomfortable, she made no moves to push him off.

Her eyes squinted instead, narrowing at him.

“I’m not scared of you, Bakugo. I know you’re not gonna hurt me.”

Her body started twisting under him. The action far from vigorous, mainly meant to show her discomfort as she knew she wouldn’t go anywhere unless Katsuki decided she could.

And though the intention to her wiggling was not to evoke his arousal, it most certainly managed to do just that.

He inhaled sharply and she felt her body freeze up, seize at the feel of his hips making a shift to slot himself against her, grinding down onto her flattened and unmoving body.

“Hurt you?”

He let out a low rumble of a laugh, like building thunder.

“Who said anything about hurting you?”

Her breath strained as his eyes scrunched closed upon her jerking, his own teeth sinking into his bottom-lip to maintain the hiss on his tongue at the pull in his pants, his head descending to nuzzle against her chest, spiky hair poking at her chin.

Mouth breathing hot breaths onto her ear, causing her to whimper.

“Thought you just said you weren't scared?”

She swallowed thickly, improperly giving his rhetorical question an answer, feeling her wrists go numb under his hold and her blood running cold.

“Bakugo…?”

He didn’t answer and she felt herself go even more rigid at the absence of his voice.

It wasn’t often Katsuki didn’t speak back to her when she willingly spoke to him. In fact, it was never. But now, he was quiet, too quiet, making the frightening rugged sound of his heavy breathing overwhelm her ears, dulling her senses in the process before everything being sent into hyperdrive upon the feeling of his hand leaving her one wrist to cup her breast outside her shirt, giving the mound a careful and slow yet full squeeze.

She yelped at the sudden attack, her body jumping up against him, making yet another teasingly harsh contact with his clothed cock.

This time he hissed, both upon her delicious little struggles but also because her newly freed hand had actively made the decision to pull his hair as a desperate means of making him move.

It worked to some extent, at least in freeing her other hand which opened for the opportunity to drag herself out from beneath him.

Yet, the action was stopped in a series of rather clumsy fighting, where Bakugo managed to retract the upper-hand once again, pinning both her wrists with one hand whilst tugging loose his tie with the other.

He’d slotted himself between her legs now, her skirt spreading and hiking up her thighs as she struggled to stop him from tying her wrists together and fasting them to the handicap-bar mounted on the side of the bed, yet failing.

Her body free for him to touch now, to tamper and play with, and she felt her heart catch in her throat, small pleas coming erupting from the place because of it, but he didn’t seem to hear her, and if he did, he was electing to ignore the pitiful sounds.

His hands traveled down her sides, thumbs rubbing over the scratchy material, the fabric of her shirt stiff as a result of using dollar-store laundry detergent.

White shirt; made up of thin fabric to make the fight against the Tokyo-heat easier, yet resulting in it being so temptingly easy to make see-through with just a little spill of water. Water Katsuki was always so eager to pour, either with light teasing spritzes from his water-bottle or in carrying her over his shoulder into the showers and holding her there as the water rained down upon her, drenching both her and himself, then offering ever so mockingly if she would like to borrow a shirt, because unlike her he had a dorm-room with fresh and dry clothes, whereas she only had that one uniform and all other clothes made up of more holes than actual textile.

He chuckled at the memories as his fingers moved up-front and centre to tamper with the buttons.

“I bet you just hate this uniform, don’t yah?” His voice, although maintaining the snicker, was soft. Not loud and abrasive and rushed, but as though he was enjoying himself, thoroughly at that, drinking in the moment.

His movements too, were slow; careful.

Large warm hands stroking down the bare skin of her stomach, feeling the tremors as he did so, with eyes glued to those perfect mounds found beneath what looked like a well-worn sports-bra, making him wonder what she’d look like if he were to dress her up in expensive red lace. She’d be mouthwatering to look at either way, and breasts are just as soft whichever way they’re dressed… it’s not like the bra is staying on for too long anyway.

He swallowed thickly to stop his mouth from dripping.

He tucked her shirt out from her skirt, taking a moment to grip her midriff and squeeze to try and ease her struggling.

It only resulted in her thrashing even more, whirlwinds of panicked get-off-me’s and fuck-you’s and stop’s spilling from her mouth in rapids, but the plead seemed to repel off Bakugo’s ears like water off a ducks back where the desperation only aided in satiating his sick sadism, in the same fashion tears fell from her eyes aided in making his stomach churn or flutter with something he could only describe as bliss, her arms trying to the best of their efforts at tugging at her bonds, to no avail except for making the skin found their chaffed and sore.

He spent a few seconds deciding whether he wanted the skirt on or off as he felt up the fabric between his fingers, more memories flushing his mind with such sweet and potent nostalgia of him lifting up the short excuse for coverage in the school-halls every day to sneak a peak at her underwear, or those times he would bend her over classroom-desks and push his bulge where it would fit so snuggly against her ass.

“Kinda feels like this skirt gets shorter and shorter for each year...” He mused, stroking up the skin of her thighs, lifting the fabric in the process, revealing a pair of black cotton boxers which, despite being lackluster, forced a groan to rumble from his chest.

The fuck-you’s had turned to please’s and the change made a smirk curl onto his lips as he put his lips to the inside of her thigh before pulling away to look down at her, all spread open and quivering for him.

Breasts all perfect, squished together in the comfort of her bra, hair splayed on top of the pillow, her nose turning all red and adorable with her eyes brimming with both panic and tears.

Her skin felt so soft and untouched beneath his fingertips as he stroked up and down her thighs, pulling them towards him, as far as the bonds on her wrists would allow, slightly struggling with how much the panic had taken a hold of her, her legs kicking and flailing.

But he liked it that way.

Messy and desperate.

“Don’t be difficult, Quirkless, you’re not getting out of this.” He spoke so calmly, so collected and controlled and determined. As though he wasn’t doing anything wrong, as though this was his right. “This is the only thing you’re any good for anyways.”

He leveled with her clothed little sex, slung her legs over his shoulders, watched as she squirmed upon his breath, heard her whimper and plead with his name as he stuck his tongue into the fabric, her legs doing a little involuntary kick while her thighs where firmly secured in his hands.

“Worthless quirkless little pussy on legs.”

She sobbed as his fingers latched around the ribbon of her underwear, pulling, tearing the fabric, with no need to pull it down her legs, just a need to pull them off.

A content and knowing smile made its way onto his lips, yet she was unable to see it in her position, something of which she was thankful for, or… as thankful as one can be when being defiled by a friend.

Not that Bakugo was much of a friend anymore, but he had been, at some point before he'd offered more than one concerning opinion about quirkless people and their place in the world.

Of her place in the world.

He didn’t share her nostalgia though, not when the future was smiling at him with the face of her shaven warm pussy right in front of him.

“Did you get yourself all nice and ready for me? Huh? Knew I was coming?” He teased as she shook her head sporadically, unable to form any type of words in her overwhelming embarrassment and fear and panic.

He grinned smugly, despite knowing it was due to her spot on the swimming-team she kept herself clean and hairless, also knowing that the only reason she took swimming-lessons was because she and her mom couldn’t afford the hot-water bill, making her take showers at school instead, and that a spot on the swimming-team gave her a free-ticket to using those showers anytime she wanted.

How many times had he snuck in there to watch her soap up her body?

How many times had he palmed his erection to the sight of her?

How much he’d wanted to waltz in and take her against the cold tiles, make steam roll off the walls, hearing her voice echo his name...

Now he had the real deal though, no more time for fantasies.

She was smart, she was resourceful, but not enough to put a lock on her door.

She was lucky if one thought about it.

Lucky it wasn’t just any random guy who walked in and took her like Bakugo was going to take her.

Lucky it wasn’t just anyone’s tongue jutting out to lick up her spread folds.

Lucky it was Bakugo who was hugging her thighs close to him, using them as soft warm pillows as he nuzzled between them to lick and suck and bite at the little bundle of nerves found right there in front of him.

Lucky it was Bakugo that had her squirming and quaking and whimpering and crying.

Because, taking everything into consideration, she was safe with him.

Safer than she would or even could be with anyone else for that matter.

Who else could really protect her like he could, like he will, like he has?

She should be grateful he still wants her after she rejected him, humiliated him like she did. She was sure going to pay for it tonight. But first, he could at least treat her to what she had been missing, especially when thinking of how much he was going to take from her before the day let up.

It almost made him feel bad.

Almost, being the keyword, because without it he wouldn’t have thought it funny how many noises she could make without alerting anyone from outside, how no one cared whether she blubbered out common sniveling protests and screams of his name, begging him to stop, or those equally loud yet scarce moans that sprung from her despite her not wanting them to, each time he sucked too hard or too harshly on her clit, teeth rubbing over the sensitive skin found there. Her hips dancing a panicked series of shimming from side to side, controlled in his grasp and only aiding in his tongue finding new places to lick and suck at as he laid abusive worship onto the temple between them. Nose bumping and dipping and rubbing onto places too tender as his mouth moved lower.

Her knees jolting as he kept them spread open, claws digging into the grabbable flesh each time she would pound the ball of her heel into his back, the movement always falling still upon the building simmering threat of explosions in his palms, pain much sharper than that of his nails.

She wanting nothing more but to wrench away, especially upon feeling the shameful treacherous dripping of herself down onto the bedsheets, disgusted with her body, humiliated beyond repair, with the tongue of Katsuki lapping up what mess he had made out of her, teeth from a grin gracing in feather-light motions, yet still managing to shoot electricity up her core.

All she could do was pant and sob through moans and trying her best to force out more protests even though she knew it was to no use, until she felt him pull away, leaving her cold in loss of contact with heat.

She doubted his removal was because she’d begged it from him.

Her doubts being answered as she heard the crisp clatter of a belt-buckle opening.

Her eyes were swimming, gifting her with more panic as she wasn’t even able to see what he was doing, yet knowing, again wishing she didn’t, wishing she was rather deaf as well as blind, wishing all her senses to simply give away, all so that she didn’t have to witness what she was surely soon going to have to be the victim of.

She heard the clothes dropping to the floor, looked up at him through bleary blurry eyes, still recognising the sandy nuance of his skin fully on display before her.

His large hands found her knees again, prying them open. His hips fitting between her thighs.

“Ba- ba- Baku- go, plea- please, don’t- don’t… stop.” She choked on her tears, on her fear, on her panic, on the feeling of the cold breeze making her exposed sex shiver and beg for something warm to fill it up, on her disgust.

“Don’t stop?” He snickered, pinching her clit between his fingers, making her arch with a whine before trying to wrench away, yet stopped by his hands steadying on her knees, spreading her open for him.

His cock-head delved between her folds, and he had to catch a pathetic whimper from escaping his throat, settling for biting his lip instead and ridiculing the reason as to why he was feeling so weak in the first place. Growling at the little girl beneath him, all tied up and defenceless and hopeless and pathetic, but still able to make him feel so small.

“I knew you were just a stupid slut.”

It helped hearing her scream for him.

It helped hearing her choke on her own gasps as he filled her tight little space up with the warm length of his cock.

It helped feeling her squeeze and seize around the girth of him, hugging him close and tight, filling and stretching her out so nicely.

She had resorted to hectic crying, no words, no protests, just sobbing, hiccupping, coughing up her own cries.

And, although he imagined himself growling and groaning he fell short of those guttural rusty sounds and fell prey to whimpering like a lovesick puppy humping a plushie-toy instead.

His hands holding onto her hips as though letting go meant death as he rolled his hips into her, feeling her warm velvety walls welcome him home.

It felt so good he nearly barreled over, his face buried in her chest, hand coming up to enclose over her mouth as so to stop the cries and hear those soft muffled moans she made instead.

Small stifled broken wet mews spurred into his palm, as he kissed a trail up the valley of her chest and onto her neck, whispering with his breath shaky.

“If it makes you feel any better… this is my first time too.”

He didn’t know why he said it. Maybe because he was suddenly regretting his decision of being a monster, or maybe because the fright of being vulnerable disappeared at the feeling of conquering what made him afraid.

“I spread a rumour in second that I fucked Ururaka just to see your reaction.” He let out a breathy laugh, the open smile on his face indicated his nostalgia, as though it were a fond memory. “But you didn’t care at all did you?”

He snapped his hips forward, hitting something painful making her scream beneath his hand, opening it to hear her sob out in whimpers.

“Did you?!” It was accusatory and loud and right next to her ears, as he bared his teeth.

She was sure she was bleeding, feeling as though he was tearing her up, splitting her open, every harsh thrust felt deep within her abdomen, churning her guts.

“I- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor- sorry!” She spluttered out, more thick gulps of tears streaking her cheeks with red.

“You know what I think?”

He leaned in closer, his nose poking into her cheek, lips brushing her ear, hands now having moved to cup her knees, pushing them up into the bedsheets beside her shoulders, hiking her up to meet his sharp thrusts.

“I think you wanted this…”

She shook her head as his grin gleamed from seeing her discomfort.

“Leaving your door unlocked like that, you were begging for this to happen.” He laughed, biting her earlobe, heavy balls clapping against her ass.

She sniveled. “You- you know we can’t afford-” She started, but was cut off by her own broken moan as Bakugo yet again made another sharp movement, sending an earth-shattering smack to fill the crammed space of her RV, and then again cut off by Bakugo’s own response.

“Yeah? But you could still afford that dress you wore to Homecoming couldn’t you?” He sounded crazed, upset and angry and obsessed with making her regret it. “When you went with that fucking extra instead of me?”

His forehead pushed against hers, eyes a feral red and large with rage, watching in sadistic glee as she scrunched her eyes together in pain, trying to block his voice out from her head.

“Yeah, I bet you’re sorry now.” He growled, again taking a break from his series of shallow thrusts to push deep into her, making her whine in wet agony. “That was the worst mistake of your life and you’re gonna make it up to me tonight.”

He pushed himself up, looking down at the crying mess he was buried inside, licking his lips.

She couldn’t stop apologising, as he fucked into her, her hands going numb under the bondage of his tie around her wrists.

“I’m sorr- sorry-” She croaked, face burning from her tears.

“Yeah? You better be.”

He gathered her ankles in his hands, holding them up, one hand coming to roll her sock down her leg.

“You’re gonna be.”

His hand caressed her small bare-foot tightly, thumb digging into her sole, his mind drifting to how cute and tiny it was, smaller than his hand, and strangely soft for someone who chooses to walk everywhere to save money.

“I’m sorry-” She blubbered. “I’m- I’m sorry...”

She struggled for breath between her apologies and cries, forgetting how to inhale as Bakugo’s cock crammed into her, stripping her lungs of their air.

He kissed the pad of her foot, before leaning down again, hands once more cupping her knees and pushing them against the mattress.

“Good.”

She quaked beneath his stare, his sharp teeth too close as she cringed at the wet creamy sloshing sound of his cock pounding into her.

She had to look away, wanting to twist to hide her face in her pillow and cry until he was done.

But he wouldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me when I fuck you.”

Gathering her face between his fingers, he scrunched her lips together as his own face closed in, his teeth coming to bite down on the vulnerable pout.

“You’re nothing without me, you understand that?”

One of his hands seized around her throat, adding slight pressure to accommodate his words.

“Good for nothing.” He spit. “Except for being my little slut, right?”

His claws scratched her throat, making her mewl and suck at her bitten bruised lip, tasting the metal.

“Come on, slut, I asked you a fucking question!”

Again, he angled his cock to jut into her painfully, making her gasp in strained pain at the stretch, followed by a sob.

“I’m just a slut-” She sniffled, eyes spiralling when looking into his unforgiving scarlet ones.

He smiled again, kissing her cheek.

“Who’s?”

The kiss became a lick, as he dragged his tongue up her tear-slicked cheek.

“Who’s slut?”

He felt her tremble and stiffen under his tongue, her eye’s squeezing shut.

“Your slut.” She answered, but it proved not to be good enough as another sharp painful thrust hit her core. “Bakugo’s slut.”

She knew it was wrong the second she said it as a growl rumbled against her neck, his teeth gracing, scraping against her tender flesh.

“Katsuki’s slut!”

The words all broken and wet and beautiful coming from her bloated and reddened lips.

He placed a chaste kiss to her jaw, nibbling his way up to her mouth, whispering upon them. “Yeah, that’s right, you’re nothing without me.”

He kissed roughly, growling for her to kiss back, hand still tightly locked around her neck, begging for her to refuse him only for him to squeeze the life out of her.

His tongue pushed into her mouth as he slobbered and drooled above her, mouth sucking on her lips, trailing down her jaw and down her throat, nibbling and biting and lapping at her skin like some hound drooling over steak.

His hand left her throat to grasp her clothed breasts as he hit a particular spot, calling an unintentional bucking of her hips into him, making him groan in pleasure, his own thrusts gaining speed, hitting that same spot he now knew would make her unravel.

“You’re so lucky to get my cock.”

He worked himself into a taller position again, dragging himself off her chest to admire what artwork he’d made of her collar and chest.

“Say you love it.”

She shook her head, a petty begging-look on her face.

It was a weak protest, almost enough to make him let it go, yet still outweighed by his need to make her pay.

His hips suddenly thrusting into her deeply, sharply, in all the ways he’d found out hurt.

She cried out. “No, no, Bakugo, please!” Panicked sobbing, her chest arching in pain, her legs coming to kick him off, yet were stopped as he pushed her knees into her chest. Jutting into her brutally.

“Say you love it and I’ll go slower.”

He saw her knuckles whiten at how hard she was balling her fists, tugging at her bonds desperately.

“I’ll fuck you good.” He promised, finding himself grow excited upon the thought. “Nice and slow like lovers do.” He had to snicker, even as she sobbed and hiccupped up screams that caught in her throat at his sharp thrusts, her eyes screwed tightly shut, allowing no tears to drop yet leaving them swimming in stinging salt.

His head dropped again to her temple, lips nibbling lightly on her cheek bone, his heavy breaths sounding louder than what snapping noise was made between his hips and the softness of her ass.

“Come on…” He drawled an impatient growl into her ear, a rumble that strung another whimper out from her.

More sobs followed, broken in their execution. “I love it… I love it.”

She hadn’t screamed it the way he wanted, but hearing it hang loosely onto her cries, all trembling and weak, was somehow better than what he thought he’d wanted anyway.

He slowed down, enough to lessen the sound of flesh slapping flesh and for the squishy noise of him filling her up again and again to replace it.

“What do you love?”

He made his way to rip open the seams of her shirt on her shoulder, not caring in the moment that she didn’t have a spare uniform to replace it. The shirt gone before she could even answer his question.

“You’re cock, I love you’re cock.” She sobbed, as her bra met with the same fate her shirt had, leaving her in just her little black skirt and one sock remaining, her tits springing loose, bouncing on both her cries and Bakugo’s movements.

“Fuck, good, such an obedient little pet.”

His head fell into the newly presented bare flesh with a moan, heavy panting as he slobbered up the valley between her breasts, palming the soft mounds before twisting the nipples between his fingertips, pulling at them, playing with them, his mouth sucking and biting, teasing the tender sensitivity.

His hands quitting their torment in favor of holding onto each their knee to keep her spread open for him as he rolled deeply into her spot.

“Feels so fucking-” He groaned, not bothering to finish the thought, before another impulse struck him.

His position in having his face buried in her neck and his body laid tight and snug on top of hers moved, making her feel the wisp of a chill coat her as their warm sweat-slicked bodies parted, feeling almost as though they were glued together as he pulled away, cock still being kept warm inside the comfort of her walls.

His hands came up to fickle with the knot that kept her hands locked above her head, his fingers sloppily tugging to loosen the tie, before gripping her hips tightly in a fashion meant to make sure she understood that despite being loose she was far from actually free.

Lifting her up of the spot she’d sunk into on the mattress and on to straddling his torso, his feet hitting the ground with a dunk with her propped up on his thighs, every little movement of his adjusting making his cock poke and message into other new dangerous places, places too tight to be attacked in whichever reckless unthoughtful way Bakugo saw fit.

Fingers running, or rather digging into her skin and making way to rake up her sides, grabbing and clinging to her midriff to pull her close, with his thighs beginning to impatiently move in a boyish manor to satiate the need for friction his member craved.

One arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand made to grab her chin, allowing him to look over her, again tempted to bite into those lushes red lips, all bloated and made for his teeth to gnaw on. Yet, his mouth made way to her neck instead, licking up her throat, sucking on the thin skin, wanting to make his mark flourish in red explosions all over her.

“Be a good quirkless slut and bounce on my cock, make yourself useful for once.”

His knees jolted upwards making her hop, followed by his cock sinking deeper into her.

Her hands held uncertainly mid-air made to grip his shoulders at the further intrusion, biting back another cry, however unable to keep the sobbing sigh from rupturing her throat.

However, she wasn’t given long to recover as his hand came down to plant a red-hot slap on her ass, making her jump on her own.

“Come on, don’t be shy.”

She started moving, unsure of what or which way to do it, finding the rhythm of rocking her hips forward after a while, earning a disgusting sigh of satisfaction from the blonde holding a bruising grip on her.

“That’s right...”

His arm moving to hold a death-grip on her waist, thumb digging into the underside of her ribs, poking each time she lolled forward and at the same time threatened her to stop.

His other hand came to grip her face again, stiff lips crashing against teary lips. Sucking her face as though stealing her life-source, only breaking between breaths to announce cocky cruel comments and instructions.

“Stay right there, slut.” A thrust from his hips accompanied the nickname, making her wince and lurch forward into him. “Aww that’s cute.”

Both his hands went under her skirt to grab at her ass, lifting her up only to sleeve himself inside her once again.

“Does that feel good? Huh? Right there?”

Another slap and she rested even harder against his chest, trying to find comfort in the pitch black her screwed-shut eyes left her in, yet the overwhelming scent of caramel wasn’t easily ignored, and neither was how perfectly his cock sunk into her.

His hands fingered the fabric of her skirt as he bumped into her from beneath. Tugging on the textile until ripping it off, the action earning her gasp as she was now wearing nothing but her one sock, the skirt having provided as some false sense of coverage.

“Is the slut enjoying herself?” He mocked, a salacious grin constantly spreading on his face between moans and grunts.

She shook her head, the urge to fight herself to freedom awakening yet again as her hands moved to push at his chest.

“No… stop.”

But her back was supported, or rather steadied, with Bakugo’s large palm, little sparking ignitions gaining control of her struggles quickly, the fight leaving her body with a whimper of defeat, just as quickly as it had arrived.

Another sharp thrust ripped a strangled moan from her and he grinned.

“Liar.” He snickered. “You’re gonna cum on my cock like a good little slut 'cause that's the only thing you know how not to fuck up, only thing your whore mom ever taught you.”

Forcing her hips to roll faster, the slick coated their thighs as her tits bounced for him.

“Does she share this bed with both you and her crackhead fuck-friends?”

He couldn’t defend his need to make her cringe in his arms, why he wanted to see her ashamed, why he wanted her crying into him.

“Such a freak. Are you gonna cum on the same sheets your mom sleeps on?”

Sharp fingers dug into her cheeks again, all because he wanted to be entertained by the show of her breaking.

He pulled her hips closer, fighting to hit that spot that had her mewling earlier, wanting to hear her mewl again, wanting to prove his point.

Once he found it she fell flush against him, melting in his hands, soft-spoken moans falling like drool down her chin.

“Like that, right there?” His words fell hot on her lips as his thumb pushed into her mouth and down onto her tongue, holding her chin in place.

Her eyes crossed then upon his cock nudging in just the right way against her cervix, as well as her brows drawing up into a pretty eruption.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” He groaned, clutching tighter onto her hip, rocking her forward to meet his thrusts. “Are you gonna cum on my cock, huh?”

With his thumb still dipped into her mouth, she tried her best to retort.

“No…”

It couldn’t be referred to as defiance as it was too pitiful to be called that.

“Yes, you are.”

He sucked on her collarbone, making his way up by kissing a trail of slobbering kisses and bites to her ear.

With his hips still angled just right, his thumb left her mouth to grip her other hip.

He could feel her tight little pussy start to convulse around his shaft, small flutters that squeezed him tightly, milking him.

She hated that she wanted to spill over so badly. The surging swimming boiling buzz constantly teased by Katsuki’s plush cockhead pushing and poking and jabbing at her cervix again and again.

She felt it coming, the snapping, breaking, splitting, the building coming close to bursting, yet she was reminded of who she was with in her reach for bliss and found herself regretting chasing it.

“No, no, not with him, not with him, not-”

It was too late as she tried holding it back, tried grasping it as hard as she was clamping down on his cock, as hard as she was digging her nails into his shoulders.

The movements of his hips slowed down.

“There you go. Feel good, slut?” He mocked as her body spasmed, skin freezing over under his touch, feeling disgusted, skin-crawlingly disgusted with herself and how she was unable to control the continuous spasms that seemed to ricochet through her spontaneously. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”

His speed picked up again, humping into her, making her ride through her orgasm, feeling the almost painful ticklish pressure build again upon each time he bottomed-out ruthlessly inside the comfort of her wet walls.

“No, Bakugo stop, stop!” Her pleads weren’t met.

“Is it too much?” He laughed, gathering a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck in order to make her look up at him, making her wince as he spit his words into her face. “Mommy didn't do too good a job at raising her slut, I see. Can't even handle cumming without crying." He jeered, mock pouting at her with his forehead pressed into hers, blood-soaked orbs forcing eye-contact from her wide tear-stained ones as she whimpered. "Aw, is my cock too much for the little whore?”

“Yes, stop!” She couldn't care less if she was answering some cruel nickname , the painful pressure assaulted inside her was something too vehement she needed to make relent, but yet again was her plead answered with a lack of mercy in an eerie whisper and nothing more.

“I’m not finished yet.”

All she could do was beg for him to finish… so that’s what she did.

“Please...”

He gathered her face in his hand again, fingers squishing into her cheeks hurtfully as he made to sneer into her face.

“Please what? Please fuck your whore cunt harder? Please make you cum again?”

Even as he snickered and mocked, his cock twitched at the sight of her.

Eyes all puffy and swimming in her own tears, eyebrows knitted together, begging for mercy.

Completely and literally held in the palm of his hand, yet her gaze still managing to make him feel fuzzy with the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh fuck, say you love me.”

Cold dread made up most of her body, what else was the rising crippling shameful feeling of something sweet knotting up somewhere in her lower abdomen again, this time harder than before as her already abused high was continuously pocked by Katsuki’s swollen cockhead kissing her cervix harshly again and again and again, driving her insane. And all of it made his demand impossible to answer, impossible to even comprehend.

Yet, she was in no position to refuse with her face held up between his fingertips and his crimson eyes boring holes straight into her terror-wide heart.

“Say you love me or I’ll cum inside you.” His voice lacking all she considered still human. Not a hint of remorse or guilt or shame or pity.

She gulped on her breaths, yet managed to voice the words. “I love you, Katsuki.”

Her eyes now unable to look away from him. Even as he picked up the painful pace, stabbing at her core, in places she had no former knowledge of, places the length of her fingers could never even as much as dream of reaching.

“Fuck.” A boyish virginal whimper laced the moan that escaped him at her words, satisfaction easing the raging and crazed look on his face. “I love you too.”

His toes curled painfully, cold and numb against the floorboards.

“I love you.”

Hands warm and sliding against dewy and doughy flesh.

"I love you."

Something pulling, straining, building to burst was chasing release, sending spasms to shoot through his shaft.

"I love you."

He knew what was coming. He knew it would be better than ever.

“We’ll get you a pill later, ‘kay?”

The guilt was washed over with the promise of painting her walls.

“It’s fine.” He tried reassuring as he felt her revolt in his arms, all her strength fighting to get off him, yet was no match against the force of his hands holding onto her, and his need to explode inside.

She resulted to begging instead. “No, no, Katsuki stop, don’t, please!”

Feeling her hope being crushed in his palm, picturing his laughing face as she turned her vision to black, his feral smile like supersonic light, dangerous and deadly and made to rip throats out.

And then it was done, she felt the last thrust like the last blow through her gut.

Cream filling her up, smearing between their thighs, Katsuki’s head resting on her shoulder with his hands holding onto her hips, fingers marking their presence into her back yet softening their grip with each of his panting breaths landing on her breasts.

Her blood ran cold through stiff veins, as though she were dead. Her skin crawling, as though rotting with mites.

Sickness.

Sickness in her lungs, in her throat, building, climbing up her pipes.

She slung herself off in a hurry, and with Katsuki coming down from whatever sick high he was riding, he wasn’t alert enough to catch her, which was probably a good thing because after her staggering her way to the bathroom, feeling his cum and her wetness leak out of her and drip along the inside of her thighs, she only barely made it in time to open the toilet compartment, get to her knees in the small space and haul her guts out into the small stained bowl.

Feeling like her mother, each time she came home all sweaty, mascara smeared with tears on her face like a garbage racoon, sticking her fingers down her throat and gagging until she collapsed on the floor, face laid in her own puke.

She heard Katsuki’s heavy footsteps, one and two before his hand met with her neck. Collecting her hair in a ponytail in his grip with the other hand encompassing her naked back.

She was afraid he was going to pull her up, expecting her scalp to soon scream in protest at the feel of her hairs being ripped up from their roots.

Yet, as she awaited the torture… all she felt was the slow stroking of carefully placed paths running up her spine and then down to the small of her back in a manor either meant to be comforting or patronizing, with her hair being kept away from her face as she retched on repeat.

It was mostly just water and acid, and Katsuki made a mental note to make her eat later as he helped her up with his hands under her arms, supporting her when seeing how her shivering rendered her knees too weak to stand on her own, lifting her up on a tiny counter which would have been impossible for him if he were to try and sit on it, yet seemed the perfect size for her.

The ruff base of his thumb brushed the spit from the corner of her mouth, her large eyes meeting his own as he leaned in, soft weak hands only barely pushing against his chest in an act to stop him, but his lips pushed onto her anyway.

Parting with a string of silver connecting them, and he couldn’t help but fall prey to how beautiful she was even in her broken ugliness, how prettily her eyes fluttered with sticky eyelashes clutching together as though hugging for comfort, stray wisps of hair dancing in front of her face. Her wet breaths, sobbing breaths, hiccupping breaths, trembling past those soft pillow-y and blossomed lips, plump and full and bitable, or huffed through her nose, sniveling and sniffing and so very unfairly precious.

His thumb stroked over those lips, watching them quiver.

He took time admiring her, feeling her cold fingertips vibrate against his chest, wondering if she could feel how hard his heart was hammering inside his ribcage with how much she was shaking. Wondering if she knew just how much he’d wanted this, how long he’d wanted this, how despite him ignoring her cries, that she understood how this wasn’t in vain, how he wasn’t just doing this because he could, that he was doing this because he needed to, that he wasn’t doing this because he hated her but because he loved her, loved her too much to let her simply slip from between his fingers again.

His fingers latched onto the band of her sock, pulling it down and off at her toes, finally leaving her completely bare.

“Let’s get you in the shower.”

He moved to pick her up, uncaring of her newly sparked urge to fight him.

“No, Katsuki…”

She tried pushing, she tried making him stop despite everything being slippery and sticky and gross. The want to cry herself to sleep knowing and finding some comfort in the fact that Katsuki was done with her and long gone outweighed the want to get clean.

“The water’s cold, you won’t like it.” She argued in a weak attempt to sway him from the idea, yet knowing full well that he didn’t care.

“Come on…” He drawled as he caught her bothersome fists by the wrists in his massive hands. “We’ll take a shower and then we’ll go get your pill…”

He fought to find eye-contact.

“We both know you don’t have the money for it anyway…”

Typical of him to mention her situation. Typical of him to use it against her. And though it was typical, though it was predictable, it still made her heart clench, her soul twist, her spirit crumble.

He swore he saw something start to break in her eyes, wanting to deliver the final blow to snuff out whatever fight she still had left.

He leaned in more, his nose brushing against hers.

“You need me.”

Her struggles stopped at that, Katsuki wrapping her legs around his back to support her as he carried her to the shower. Her cheek resting on his shoulder, completely deflated.

It wasn’t at all as in the movies. Sweet couples who help wash each other’s hair, warm bodies gliding against one another, soft perfect handprints printed on the dewy glass.

She hadn’t been lying, the water was freezing as the showerhead spritzed the water down on them with a force close to that of aching.

They didn’t both fit in the crammed space either, Katsuki was sure that even him alone wouldn’t fit in the tight space, where he was left to have one foot on the floorboards outside the door, water rushing into the hallway, running down his leg, but he didn't care.

His frame blocked the door completely, allowing her no shape or form of exit as he made her stand there, under the showerhead, hair slicking to her neck and nipples perking into hardness under the freeze, goosebumps strutted and coated her flesh from head to toe, her cheeks and lips blossomed with a purple hue, her eyes closed, head dipped in discomfort or shame or embarrassment or sorrow or a bit of everything and even more.

Her body trembled beneath his warm hands, as they cupped her breasts, palming them and playing and pinching with her back hunching in a weak effort to get her discomfort across, despite knowing how he didn’t care, with the fact having been proven time and time again.

His warm calloused fingertips brushed down her abdomen, eyes stark and loud as they looked at her body, thinking of how unblemished and beautiful her skin was as opposed to him, no roughness or ugly greenish bruises, just milky smooth and rosy suppleness and all his.

His hand traveled further, causing her small ones to reach out and grip around his wrist, both hands giving their best effort at trying to stop him. Though his other hand was quick to wrap around her throat and extract a sweet gasp with the movement.

Her hands removed their pressure yet remained on him as he brushed featherlight touches over the sensitiveness of her sex, fingertips dipping into her folds, slithering in the slick velvet of his cum mixed with her wetness.

A sob ricocheted through her as her toes curled, fingers bending and nailing into his wrist. Still, he continued. Fingers pushing inside, pumped knuckle-deep inside the puffy spongey walls, reaching deep before scissoring, making her knees bend, yet kept from falling by the hand around her neck keeping her up like a noose as he curled the two digits.

Her eyes avoided his, looking down at his limp cock who somehow seemed just as intimidating as before, like a sleeping beast ready to wake at any second.

Yet, as much as he played with her sex, his own remained still.

He picked her up again as he saw more of her skin going purple, not really wanting her to get sick, just refreshed.

Water flooded on the soft-with-mould floorboards in the tight hallway as her feet dragged against the walls when he yet again carried her to the bed. And as much as she wanted to fight as he placed her dripping body down onto the sheets, she couldn’t find the energy. Tears, however, still managed to drip down her face, unhurriedly gliding down her cheeks, warm in stark contrast amidst the freezing shower-water.

“Do you wanna hear something really fucked up?”

It was rhetorical, but he wouldn’t have gotten an answer either way.

“I used to be jealous of your crack-whore mother…”

Her face cringed, confused yet still not desiring to know what he meant.

“Fuck, I’m still jealous when you come to school and I see that there's somebody else who makes you cry harder than me.”

She had to swallow in order not to gulp.

“You’re sick.”

Those were the wrong words, for as quickly as they entered the air, he was once again on top of her, squeezing the breath from out of her lungs.

“I’m sick?” He questioned, fingers plunging inside her, a forced moan ripped from her throat. “You’re the one cumming and creaming and squirting all over my cock while crying.” He bit out while starting to pump into her cruelly, finding it easier now as she was already wet from before. “Telling me you love it, telling me you love me.” He laughed as he sneered. “Who would’ve known what a slut you are. So desperate you let your own bully fuck you like this. You fucking whore.”

His pushed his thumb into her clit cruelly, a sadistic smile on his face as she struggled.

“Stop, shut up, shut up!” Her palms made to push at his hard chest, yet was weakened as she felt the burning sweetness start to pool were his fingers poked.

“You don’t like that nickname? No? Aww, that’s fine.” He hissed, then scoffed. “It’s not true anyway...” He muttered beneath his breath, trying to find what sweet spot his fingers could reach as so to have her unravel beneath him again, wanting to lick the sin from her expression, wanting to bathe in his victory of making her his. “How did it feel to have my cock balls deep inside your precious little virgin innocent cunt, huh? Better yet, how does it feel to know how I am your first? First to kiss you, first to fuck you, first to make you cum.”

“Fuck you.”

Any remnants of strength was now spent on those last words, as the rest was spared to support her oncoming orgasm, the one she could feel clawing, sucking all senses up as though preparing for an implosion.

“That’s right…” He whispered. “Fuck me. Your first and your last.”

His ominous tone had her guts churning, which in some sick sense only added to the pooling dam that was about to snap inside her, but she kept her eyes wide, further digging into what his words meant, wondering if this would be her last day on earth, wondering if Bakugo would be the last person she'd ever see, ever feel, ever touch.

“You look like I’m gonna kill you.” He observed as he curled his fingers once again, making her hips buckle into his hand, which in turn made him grin. “Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you…”

His head dipped so that he could nibble at her neck, lick up the tender flesh with his fingers pumping in and out of her, coated in slick, collecting and drenching in his palm.

“I’m just gonna make sure no one ever touches what’s mine again…”

She couldn’t explain why the growl in his voice had her abdomen doing flips.

“Including that fuckface slut you call a mother.”

His fingers scissored, her back arching as she moaned.

“You’ll be lucky I even let you graduate.”

She couldn’t quite catch what he was saying anymore, just the lilt in his tone which had her falling apart beneath him, the walls of her pussy fluttering in pleasure.

“People go missing all the time.”

Her toes curled and she braced herself.

“That way I can have you all for myself.”

His warm lips pressed against her neck, his growls reverberating on her skin.

“All mine.”

His fingers poked at something that was about to burst and as she wanted to climb further up on the bed to escape it, she also wanted him to follow.

“Where you belong.”

And there it was, body melting into the mattress, all shame obsolete in those seconds.

Unable to see him lick her orgasm off his fingers as her eyes had crossed and traveled way too far into the back of her skull.

Unable to prepare for his kiss as her mouth hung open, soft feeble moans cut loose into the air, captured by Bakugo’s mouth.

She didn’t catch the second he stopped kissing her, nor did she catch the moment he got off the bed.

She must have fallen asleep for a short while because when she opened her eyes again Bakugo was dressed, rummaging through cabinets containing worn out clothes and things like it, seeming displeased with most of what he found.

She looked to her side, where placed on the bed was a towel, fresh underwear and a bra.

She motioned for the towel first, feeling the shameful wet stickiness between her thighs, hurriedly wiping it clean before putting on her garments, looking up to see Bakugo staring at her, having found something suitable to dress her in.

“Put this on.”

She didn’t bother looking at what he’d so graciously offered her of her own clothes.

Her eyes narrowed at him instead.

“I don’t want your help.” She sneered, looking away, crossing her arms over her chest as so to hide herself from his piercing gaze.

His fingertips were quick in clutching her cheeks, raking them into her skin as he turned her head back to look at him.

“Too bad, you need it.”

The fabric was cast at her lap unceremoniously, the soft silky feel cold against her bare thighs.

“Put it on.” The growl was followed by him removing his hand with a push.

She huffed before looking down at the presented article, wondering what Bakugo wanted to dress her up in, her lips forming a disgusted snarl.

“It’s my mother’s.”

The yellow summer-dress, flowy and frilly in texture, something she’d never wear, something Bakugo knew well she would never wear.

“It’d go to waste on her.”

This made her look up, curiosity or maybe even a form of flattery evident in the curl between her brows.

The sudden eye-contact catching Bakugo off guard as he’d shared the uncharacteristically tender opinion of the girl out loud.

He scoffed, crimson eyes darkening in an attempt to hide the building flustered panic, masking it with a growl instead.

“Put it on, I won’t ask again.”

She fingered the fabric for a while longer before treading it on over her head, letting the skirt dress her thighs with a featherlight fall.

Looking like a spring-daydream, not at all as though she’d just lived through a nightmare.

With her drying hair falling in messy curled tousles down her shoulders, Bakugo reached out a hand to fasten the small wispy strands coming to tickle her forehead behind her ear, grabbing her wrists in favor of her hand when he pulled her up.

“Let’s go. I can’t stand this shithole.”

Wondering if he should have said that he couldn’t stand her in that shithole instead.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

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thegayfromrulid · 2 years ago

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Ahh I hope this is okay for a request (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

Asuna with a sister reader who’s around two years younger than her when they get into a fight? And they usually don’t have sibling spats?

Absolutely okay, and I really enjoyed thinking this one through! There was a lot of room for interpretation of what the fight might be and who started it, so I hope you enjoy the direction and angle I chose to go with here.

AO3 Link if you'd rather read it there!

Otherwise, one shot below the cut!

It’s not like you two to fight.

Rewind a bit, think about a fond memory of the two of you when you were much younger. Remember how Asuna would help you get into those nice clothes you had to wear every time your mother set up some fancy event or another? You used to mention things like this with a lot of fondness. In fact, you were the closest sisters in town. Everyone saw it. You’d tag along after her when she went on errands. You’d do homework with her, and you’d never be afraid to ask her for some help. It was different with her than with your brother, wasn’t it? The age gap was just too great for both of you. You’ve always had each other, and because of that, your closeness is pretty much unparalleled. She’s always been there to be a good older sister to you; you’ve always been there to be a good younger sister to her.

But this time, you’re not sure if you can find a way to not be mad. You’ve never wanted to be mad at her before. It’s never made sense. She’s always been the best sister. She set an excellent example for you at Aeterna Girls’ Academy. Everyone in Miyasaka—no, in Setagaya—who knew the Yuuki family knew that you were inseparable, wonderful siblings. It was strange that this was so infuriating to you, even if, from a complete stranger’s standpoint, it made sense. Because no matter how much you hated being angry at her, the truth of the matter was that your heart was a bit broken.

You thought for sure things would go back to the way they were before Asuna put on your brother’s stupid NerveGear and lost two years of her life.

But they didn’t.

And now, her attention was devoted to someone else.

Yes, you had every right to be angry. After worrying that your sister’s foolish mistake would end her life well before she reached adulthood, you were ecstatic to see that she’d woken up. Not only had she been trapped in that vile virtual reality, Sword Art Online, but she’d also been kidnapped by a family friend and trapped within yet another treacherous virtual world. You couldn’t contain your joy when the call came for you to come to the hospital to greet her. You couldn’t get to her hospital room fast enough to welcome her back to the real world. You even broke the rules and ran through the hospital. But as you turned the corner to look into the bedroom, you saw her telling some stranger good-bye with a kiss on the lips. He slipped out just past you, and you tried to wipe it from your mind. But all you could think was that this wasn’t the sister you’d lost two years ago. Asuna wouldn’t kiss some boy without permission. She was always following the path set out for her by your parents. That couldn’t be Asuna.

And yet, even months later, this boy didn’t leave her life. She rejected all of your mother’s proposed suitors. She continued to date him and spend time with him away from your family. It made dinners seem especially cold. Sitting down with Asuna and your mother, you could feel the tension. You’d want to take a knife and slice right through it, bursting that tension to release it. Your mother wouldn’t look at your sister as she spoke. Asuna would offer excuse after excuse about her reasons for staying at that survivor school. Your mother clearly knew the truth, even if Asuna didn’t think she did. This boy was the elephant in the room, never being mentioned, yet always being addressed with an icy tone from your mother. You couldn’t blame her, either. This boy was no one to the Yuuki family. The fact that Asuna blatantly clung to him and refused to bring him before the family made your blood boil. Why was he suddenly more important than the family she’d always had? It made no sense.

Which brought you here. Your mother’s not home, and it’s just you, the wait staff, and Asuna in the house. The wait staff aren’t bothering you, and for once Asuna’s not strapped back into that device that takes her away from you over and over again. She’s just sitting there, in her room, doing her homework while texting that boy. You don’t want to start a fight. She’s too precious for you. The memory of how things have always been makes your heart ache as you throw open the door when she gently tells you to enter. As she looks up at you, unsuspecting, you think for a moment that you can’t confront her. You’ve never had conflict with her before. This feels wrong, but if you don’t let out the feelings in your chest, you’ll never find relief from them. You ball up your fingers into fists and finally break the silence.

“Why did you change?” you demand.

Asuna’s eyes widen just a bit, and she sets down the tablet she was working with. She turns her chair around so that she can fully face the door.

“Hey, (y/n), what’s wrong?” she asks.

You feel insulted that she can’t tell. She’s always been able to tell what you were thinking. Now that she’s returned from that world, there’s a distance between you. You can’t decide what’s worse: that it’s happened or that she can’t tell.

Finally, the flood gates burst open. You tell her everything that’s been bottled up in your chest. You tell her that she’s not the same sister she was before she entered that world. You tell her that you’re upset that she’s choosing to spend her free time all the way over in Saitama just to be with this strange boy. You tell her that you used to look up to her as a role model, and now you feel that she’s lost that respect with how she idles away at that nameless, aimless school. And she hears you out, every word that you’re unleashing on her, until you’ve said it all, with your chest heaving and your lungs almost out of breath. And then, a side of Asuna you’ve never seen before bursts forth.

You’ve never seen her anger before. You weren’t even sure she had it in her. Truth be told, she’d never truly seen yours until today either. Her anger is a force to be reckoned with. It’s like a storm that starts off gently, and then the winds begin to increase until they’re a hurricane of emotion, all swirling around the same point—this stupid boy. She defends him as if he has anything to offer her with his paltry status. You can’t seem to take her defense seriously. Why is she so stuck on this one boy? He can’t be the person closest to her soul. That person is you. It has always been you. She’s gone and replaced you, choosing this nobody over you. And yet she begs you to give him a chance—begs you to meet him and form your own opinion.

But you don’t want that. You tell her that she’s replaced you with him. There’s a look of pain in Asuna’s eyes. You don’t want her to look at you like that. This wasn’t your intent. She’s the one acting like a victim over this boy you’ve never met. You aren’t sure what to say or do next. You’ve never had to navigate a fight with Asuna before. You’ve always, always agreed with her. Now that you don’t, you feel a bit lost. Still, somehow, Asuna manages to take the lead, as she’s always done. A piece of you feels relief; there’s still something left of the sister who was stolen from you two years ago. She reaches out to you and awkwardly pulls you into an embrace.

“I didn’t mean to push you away, (y/n),” she says. “Kirito-kun is the reason I was able to come home to you again. Can’t you at least accept that?”

You don’t want to accept anything about him. You can feel yourself starting to get worked up all over again. Tears spill down your cheeks and fall on her sweater. Asuna gently strokes your hair. You’re reminded of a younger version of yourself, someone who trusted fully in her older sister. Someone who leaned on her for everything, and clung to her advice, knowledge, and wisdom. Is it truly so different now? Are you certain you’re mad at her anymore? The pain of being separated from her is still fresh in your heart. Perhaps you would have grown more apart, had she been here. Still, even if your head is clearing, you aren’t sure how to back down from the fight you’ve started. You tell her you’re still unsure about this boy.

“(y/n), you’re still very important to me,” Asuna says. “I want very much for you to meet him. I know it’s probably confusing, and I know mother probably won’t approve of him. But I want the two most important people to me to get along.”

At this point, you’re at a loss for words. Your anger, which stemmed from thinking she’d abandoned you, has turned into confusion. She still cares deeply about you, even if she’s off in Saitama. Her love for you hasn’t changed, she says. Asuna still wants you to be a part of her life, and she wants you to know more about the person she loves. The question now, then, is one of whether you believe it. It’s up to you to either accept her words as truth or reject them.

In the end, hadn’t you gotten what you wanted? You’d seen the Asuna you remembered from so long ago again. She was still there, even if parts of her had changed. Perhaps there was a chance that, once you got to know this new Asuna, you would re-find that respect and trust you had for her before she entered the virtual world. All you can think to do in the moment is nod into her chest as she continues to stroke your hair.

Two years were lost between the two of you. There is no denying this. But those two years, you hope, can be made up for.

And this is the first step.

#fanfic requests #one shot requests #sword art online #sao #asuna #sao fanfic #asuna yuuki #reader insert #anon #aj_linguistik

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slyttherins · 4 years ago

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A shoulder to cry on | Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: You and Adrian broke up because he didn't want the same things as you. Fred is there for you

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader (mention of Adrian Pucey x Reader)

Word count: 1200

Was there anything more embarrassing than crying in the common room? Tears slid down your cheeks as you rewinded the past hour on repeat in your head.

You and Adrian had broken up.

Although it was the right decision, it still hurts because the end of a relationship doesn't make you stop loving them. Not right away. Love isn't a feeling you can switch off when you decide a relationship ends.

The door of the common room opened and the voices of the golden trio filled the room.

''- and I think you should study. Both of you. O.W.L.s are serious and will play a big role in our future.''

''We studied yesterday and the day before and the day before that one too,'' Ron said, fed up and tired of memorizing textbook pages for all the subjects he was taking. They've been doing this since September. ''Let us catch a break, Hermione.''

Hermione sighed. ''Fine. But don't moan when the exams arrives and you didn't prepare well enough.''

Ron rolled his eyes and called out to Fred and George if they wanted to play wizard's chess with him and Harry. They agreed and all brought chairs and stools around the table, ready for a chess tournament.

''Get ready to lose.''

Leaving the boys to their chess game, Hermione went over to the armchair by the fireplace to study. A smile formed on her lips, seeing you on the couch. ''Y/N. Hi. I thought you and Adrian were spending the day together?'' she asked, her smile turning into a frown when seeing the tears on your face.

You wiped them with the back of your sleeve, hoping she hadn't noticed them. ''We were,'' you confirmed. ''Not anymore.''

Hermione's face softened with empathy. ''I'm sorry.''

Having heard the sliver of you and Hermione's conversation, Fred stood and came over, sitting beside you on the couch. It was Ron and George's turn to play anyway. ''What's going on over here?'' he asked, sounding concerned.

You had talked about Adrian with Fred before. You had confided in him one evening when you ran into him after a fight with Adrian over joining Umbridge's inquisitorial squad and supporting her barbaric punishments. This woman was vile and you couldn't believe your boyfriend would pick her side and be one of her little minions.

''I think Y/N and Pucey broke up,'' you heard one of the boys reply. ''I knew there'd be trouble in paradise someday.''

Hermione looked over to the tables and glared at Ron. ''How can you be so insensitive?''

Ron shrugged. ''What? We told her Pucey's a git. I don't get why she's crying over him.''

''See, this is what I meant when I said you had the emotional range of a teaspoon. And lack of tact, too.''

While the two argued, Fred's eyes were on you, watching as another tear slipped from your eyes. You wipe it with your sleeve - again - and Fred pulled an arm around you, comfortingly rubbing your arm.

''Ron's right, Pucey's a git,'' he told you in a gentler tone.

''I feel like an idiot for crying over him. I called it off. I shouldn't be crying.''

''If anyone should feel like an idiot it's Pucey for losing you.''

You laughed through your sorrow. Unlike some, Fred wasn't only being nice to take advantage of your vulnerability to lure you in his arms. That was disgusting and you knew he'd never do that. Fred was a great guy.

From her seat in the armchair, Hermione watched the two of you with a small smile, feeling something blooming. When Fred sat next to you and asked what was wrong, Hermione assumed he was being a brother figure since you and him had always been just friends, but she quickly realized he wasn't comforting you the way a brother would.

She also didn't miss when you leaned into Fred as he wiped your cheeks and whispered to you. Hermione didn't say anything. She simply picked up her books and left, feeling like she was intruding.

''Where are you going?'' Harry asked, seeing Hermione heading toward the door, books in her arms.

''To the library. I can't study in this jungle.''

''Jungle?!'' Ron exclaimed, laughing.

''Yes, jungle. I've seen you play wizard's chess before and you boys get so competitive. Your yellings are worse than at a quidditch match. I can't concentrate here.''

The common room door opened and closed, but you didn't pay attention, too caught up in your and Fred's bubble.

''Want to tell me what happened?'' Fred asked, wanting to know if he had someone to punch tonight. He wasn't a violent person, but he wouldn't pass the chance to hit Adrian Pucey.

''As you know, Adrian is part of Umbridge's inquisitorial squad. Well, it was only the start of the issue. Since getting into that inquisitorial squad, he doesn't make time for me anymore.'' You didn't want Fred to get the wrong idea, so you added, ''This isn't me being jealous or possessive. I'm okay with him seeing his friends, but he always cancels on me to spend time lurking the corridors with the other squad members. He prioritizes power over our relationship.''

A flashback of that one time he cancelled your lunch date at the Three Broomsticks appeared in your mind. Instead of going with you to Hogsmeade, he had stayed at the castle and to spy on students Umbridge had her eyes on. He was acting like her puppy dog. And, for what? A small badge on his robe and the power to give his classmates detention? It was expected from Malfoy, having always been a tattle-tale, not Adrian.

''I felt like I was the only one putting effort into our relationship. I shouldn't have to run after someone to spend time with them. It's not how relationships work. He has to want to spend time with me and make time for it.''

Fred couldn't agree more. A relationship can't function if only one person puts effort into it. It's what happened to him and Angelina. Thankfully they remained good friends.

''Where is he now?''

You shrugged. ''Probably in some corridor with Malfoy and the other goons. They're always patrolling.''

''Should I slip a U-No-Poo in his drink?''

A frown creased on your face. ''What's a...U-No-Poo?''

''One of George and I's creations,'' the redhead explained proudly. ''It's a green sweet that causes constipation in the unknowing taker. You can mash it and put it in someone's food or drink. We also have puking pastilles.''

You grimaced in disgust. ''Please remind me to never try one of your sweets.''

Fred laughed.

''Fred, it's your turn!'' Ron called from the table, having won against George.

You didn't say, but you were a little disappointed that Fred's turn had come. He seemed to share your disappointment because he looked over the head of the couch and said, ''I'll pass. Harry can play my turn.''

You fought a smile and snuggled better against Fred, the warmth of the fireplace giving your embrace an unintentional romantic vibe.

This was nice. You could get used to this.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #harry potter #prompt

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literaila · 4 years ago

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the truth is weightless

spencer reid x reader

part two to “four i love you’s, one goodbye”

you should probably read that first its important.

okay so i was looking through and editing and like an idiot i deleted the post. because i’m an idiot, so if you’ve already seen this... thats why i’m so so sorry... luckily enough i save all of my writing... and tried to remember as much as i could about the rest...

this was requested but theres spoilers so i’m not showing it mwahahahaha

warning: mentions of death, angst, my writing, and lots of crying, blood? i think? maybe?

The shock was palpable.

It lived in Spencer's brain, circling his head for hours a day, a constant nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

He refused to go to her funeral.

He refused to leave his house.

The pain was unbearable.

He spent every day, every day, alone in his small apartment, with all of her things. He lived surrounded by the memory of his best friend, his best friend who he was too late to save, his best friend who loved him with all her heart, his best friend who had died in his arms, died never knowing just how much Spencer loved her.

He couldn't even say the words aloud.

He lived in a constant regret, which swallowed him whole forcing him to live in its dark cave, to live in the bottomless pit, where he couldn't see anything, he was forced into regret with its cold aroma and dark secrets. He lived there, stuck with no way out.

He lived in the cave with the knowledge that he couldn't even admit the truth, the truth that he had so stupidly kept a secret, the truth which he worried might have saved his best friend. He fell deeper and deeper into despair, deeper and deeper down, with regret filling his body whole.

He still couldn't admit it.

He spent each day in his bed, each day surrounded by the boxes his friends had brought from her apartment, brought because he was the closest to her, brought because he was the one that was supposed to go through them and decide what was worth keeping. He spent his days surrounded by all of the things that she wrapped herself in, all the things she had put her heart into and bought, and he didn't even bother looking at them, nonetheless getting rid of what he- what she would never need again.

The others tried to coax him out. Tried to make him understand how worried they were, tried to get him to just get out of bed for one day, to just go outside, to just feel the light on his skin and the air in his lungs.

“Hey Pretty Boy, you know I’m here for you.”

“Come on Genius, we all miss you.”

“Spence, it's going to get better.”

“Reid. I know.”

“Kid, we’ve got a home waiting for you.”

Nothing worked.

The one voice he wanted to hear wouldn't come to the door.

Sometimes, he was almost sure he was forgetting about her, he almost couldn't feel her with him, couldn't hear her voice in his head, couldn't remember the way she looked when she smiled at him, he was almost sure she was disappearing out of thin air.

He knew he couldn't just forget her, knew that the memories of her would never actually go away, but some days, on the days when he needed her words to remind him, on those days he could never remember anything about her. On those days he cried because he didn't want her to leave. He didn't want her to be gone.

On those days it was harder to think about anything.

He refused to go to the funeral.

Her life was worth more than a million parties.

Her life was worth more than some tears, and a couple of speeches.

Her life was worth the world.

So he didn't go. No matter how much anyone begged him to. He never answered the door, never answered the pleas coming out of desperate voices, never answered the angry remarks, never thought about anything except the way he wished he could hear her laugh one more time, just once more.

There was no relief from any of it.

There was no ending to the pain in his heart, that sometimes he worried was killing him, there was no ending the regret that lived deep within his brain, that kept him locked inside of himself with no escape. There was no ending to the memories of her that liked to remind him of how much he had lost, that liked to rewind in his brain, that liked to be played over and over again.

The only ending was hers.

He wondered if she had been in this much pain when she died, he wondered if in some way they were connected by the things that hurt them the most. He wondered if that would be the last connection they ever had.

The consistent pain.

He tried not to remember the look on her face, the words on her lips, the way her chest contracted in pain as she laid there next to him. He tried to not remember her last moments, the only moments she had left, he tried not to remember how helpless she looked, and he tried not to think about the smile she gave him, the smile she always gave him, as a last reminder that she was still alive.

He didn't want to remember any of that.

He didn't want to get out of bed, or take a shower, or eat something, because what was it worth if there wasn't her voice on the other side of the door. What was it worth to even try if the one thing he wanted he would never get.

He still couldn't admit it out loud.

It was until the wellness check, the check that had been forced upon him and his home, it wasn't until then he decided to leave.

His friends, his family, they had forced him out.

Forced him away from the constant pit of loneliness and sorrow he lived in, the pit that he refused to leave no matter how much they tried to push him out of it.

It wasn't until Hotch reminded him, reminded him of what she would think

“She wouldn't want you to live like this Spencer, think about what she would do if she knew what you were doing to yourself.”

It wasn't until he remembered her stubbornness, and her temper, and her undeniable love for him, it wasn't until then he decided to get out of bed.

The rest of the team made themselves busy with cleaning his apartment, with moving the boxes somewhere Spencer wouldn't trip over them, with cleaning his kitchen and washing his clothes.

Spencer didn't have the energy to say thank you.

He sat on the couch and watched his friends take care of him, he stayed silent and tried just to power through the wave of exhaustion that ran through him.

He already wanted to be back in bed.

Staring at his friends, his friends who seemed perfectly fine, his friends who were not weighted down by the emotions they were feeling, staring at his friends who had to take care of him, who could take care of him because they were just fine, staring at them only made him feel pathetic.

It was Derek who stopped to sit with him, it was Derek who saw the dwindling light fading from his eyes, it was Derek who saw his friend starting to fall apart even more just when they all thought they might be able to put him back together.

It was Derek who sat next to him.

‘Hey Kid,' he said, as he sat down on Spencer's small couch.

Spencer didn't react to his voice.

“Spencer.” Derek tried again, this time his voice more firm.

Spencer looked over at him. His eyes looked dull, his cheeks drooped into his skin, his shirt was practically falling off his shoulders. He looked like he hadn't been alive in weeks.

“Kid it's going to be alright.”

Spencer blinked. Just blinked at his friend, just blinked, and thought about how he wanted to go back to bed.

“Spencer I promise. I promise it'll get better.”

Spencer only looked away, but this time, this time Derek saw something different. He saw a crack in the hard stone that made up Spencer, he saw the change in his eyes, the slight flinch in his face.

He tried again.

“Talk to me, Reid.”

It felt like the first time anyone had said anything to him, it felt like the first time he had heard words from anyone but the voices in his head for weeks, it felt like he was finally going to be done, that he was finally allowed to be done.

He looked over at Derek with tears in his eyes. His mouth was quivering, his hands were shaking.

He didn't want to say it, didn't want to admit the truth out loud, out loud where everyone could hear, he didn't want to admit how wrong he had been, he didn't want to say it just didn't want to say it.

He tried to hold it in, tried to keep himself up.

He tried so so hard.

He failed.

“I loved her so much,” he said brokenly, falling apart, all the pieces he had tried to keep together falling on the floor and into the ground, and deep somewhere inside him something broke.

He sobbed.

Derek pulled him in, pulled him closer so he could hug him, so he could remind Spencer that they were still there, that they weren't going anywhere no matter how broken Spencer felt. They would always be there for him.

“I know,” he whispered as Spencer sobbed.

As he sobbed into his shoulder, as he sobbed for his friend, for the girl he had always looked up to, for the person he had never gotten to tell how much he loved her.

He sobbed in the loss of the only person he had ever denied his love too.

He wished he hadn't admitted it.

***

Eventually, he had to get back to work.

The team was splitting up, and they needed as much help as possible.

Spencer had to drag himself out of bed.

Before leaving Hotch had said to take as much time as he needed, that he understood how hard it might be to come back, that he respected whatever decision Spencer made.

But it wasn't enough.

He had to go back, if not for himself, for her, for the people she would want him to save.

He had to do it.

So he worked, and he worked, and he avoided every memory and every ache of his heart. He ignored the constant reminders of her in his brain, and he pretended her picture on the wall of fallen agents, he pretended that picture didn't exist.

He didn't want to think about how she shouldn't have been up there at all.

He put all of his energy into working, into saving all the people he could because he knew that was what she would want, he knew that she would never ever want him to give up on something he had devoted her life to. He knew that if he kept working, if he just kept working, eventually, eventually the pain would fade.

It had for her at least.

He worked on cases, but he also worked on Ian Doyle.

The man had killed two of his friends, two of the most important people he had ever known, and as long as he kept it a secret, he would be fine.

He and Derek kept it as underground as possible, only involving Garcia when necessary.

He became obsessed with working on it.

His mind was constantly running over the different places Doyle might be, was constantly thinking about everything he knew about him, was constantly looking for new ways to find him. He couldn't get the man out of his head.

He pretended he wasn't thinking about the way he had killed her.

He pretended he wasn't thinking about her at all.

He pretended he didn't notice the looks JJ gave him when he was lost in thought when he was simply too tired to say anything, he pretended he didn't notice the way Penelope doted on him, the extra way she made sure he knew she was around. He pretended Derek didn't give him hard looks when he got too invested in a lead he had on Doyle.

He pretended that stupid picture wasn't hanging up where he walked past every day.

He pretended it all wasn't happening.

And he still lived in his constant cave, the only safe place he was familiar with, he lived deep in the dark where no one could see him, where no one could see the pain that was eating at his body, that was biting him to pieces when he didn't have anything other to think about than her. He lived in the darkest, coldest moments he could think of, and he didn't want to leave.

He had become so familiar, so used to the feeling of nothing, to the feeling of pain turning him to pieces, he thought that if it stopped if he felt better for even the littlest moment if it stopped than he would forget her.

He would forget all of the pain she was worth.

He was afraid he wouldn't remember how much she meant to him.

So he never got out, never left the open cave, never searched for the entrance, the little bit of light he thought he saw sometimes in the moments where he finally felt like laughing, he pretended that entrance didn't exist.

He was so cold.

It was like that for months. Just him, and the cave, and the people that kept trying to call out to him, and the voices he ignored.

And the memory of the person he hadn't been brave enough to talk to.

It was like that for months. Until, until there was a sign.

Until there was a picture of Doyle, the slightest glance of him until they finally knew where he was.

Spencer felt frozen staring at the man. Staring at the cause of the pain he felt tearing him apart.

Derek had to take care of it from there.

Spencer was sent to take care of Doyle’s son, and he wasn't sure if it was because Rossi needed his help, or if everyone was too worried, too scared of what he would do if he saw Doyle.

He wondered that himself.

He tried to breathe, to remind himself that it was almost over, that he had almost gotten the justice she deserved, the justice both of his friends deserved.

He sat back, he tried his very best to keep the straight head, to help out in any way he could, to remember everything he knew, to remember all the things that could help them, that could save a little boy.

He tried his very best to not fall apart at the thought of her, at the thought of her death, at the thought of the man that had caused her death, he tried to keep himself together, for her, her, for her.

Her.

He felt almost useless.

But his family was coming back, all of his family was going to be there, they were all looking for the same thing now, there was no more keeping secrets, or doing all the work with just Derek, now he had all of them.

When Hotch came back there was a moment of joy in his heart, just a moment of him feeling relieved that his boss was there, it was only a moment. The tiniest moment imaginable. But he felt terrible.

She died, she died because of him, she died because he wasn't fast enough, she died and he wasn't allowed to forget that.

He was really trying to not forget that.

He shouldn't be allowed to move out of his darkness, to leave the cave that surrounded him, she wasn't allowed to come back, and he shouldn't have been allowed to leave, he should have to feel the pain for the both of them.

Glue all the pieces together, for her.

Just figure it all out for her.

Avenge her.

Then, after that, feel the pain.

Back in the cave.

He just had to remember.

***

They all sat around the conference table. Hotch had told them he had important information, he had something that he had to tell all of them.

Spencer wondered when it would be over.

He wondered when he would finally be allowed to go back home, to go back and be alone, he wondered when he could finally turn his mind off, could finally stop remembering everything, could finally just go to sleep. He wondered when it was finally going to be done.

He hoped it would be soon.

He was exhausted.

But Hotch had something to tell them, he had something that Spencer needed to hear.

Spencer needed to be awake for that, he needed to listen as much as he could.

His body was sinking under him, practically shriveling away because of the sleep deprivation, and the malnutrition, and the pain the pain

He kept his eyes on Hotch.

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team…As you all know Emily and Y/N had lost a lot of blood after their fights with Doyle... But the Doctors were able to stabilize them.”

Spencer felt lost, felt his mind running over the memory of JJ telling them they hadn't made it, felt himself remembering the sound of his heart breaking, the feeling of all his blood rushing to his brain. He didn't understand, they were not stable, the doctors had not been able to save them.

His mind was connecting dots, and running over everything, and he refused.

He refused to believe he was right.

“Their identities were strictly ‘need to know’… And they stayed there until both of them were well enough to travel, they were reassigned to Paris together where they were both given several identities none of which we had access to, for their security”

No.

No, they died. Spencer remembered. He remembered.

He shook his head.

That was a lie, it was all a lie because they had both died, because she had stopped breathing in his arms, because she had said goodbye to him, because she had left, because he had locked himself away, because she was gone, because she was gone, she was gone she was gone

She was gone.

She wasn't walking through the doors, she wasn't there, she wasn't really in the room, this had to be a joke, had to be a dream had to be something that was meant to hurt Spencer, because it was working it was really working because the pain was there because he was being torn apart because this wasn't real this wasn't real

“Hi,” she said.

And it wasn't real, and it couldn’t have been real, Spencer was just hearing things, he was just stressed, just wrapped up in everything because she wasn't really there she wasn't really there she wasn't she wasn't.

He was still shaking his head.

And his eyes were stinging, and he felt like she was laughing at him, he felt like they were all laughing at him because this was a joke because this wasn't real because this wasn't happening.

“No.” He said, he said, so quick, and so insistently.

He had to be making this up because he wanted to see her because they wouldn't have lied because she wouldn't have left without telling him because this wasn't happening.

He walked past her, past all of them, past the girl who had been mourning for months, past the girl he was imagining.

He pretended he didn't feel the way his shoulder brushed against hers.

***

He was supposed to go to Hotch with any issues. He was supposed to blame him because he had called the order because she was alive she was alive she was still breathing.

He was supposed to go to Hotch with any problem he had.

She was alive.

Shock was keeping him a hostage everywhere he went.

She had tried to talk to him, had tried to explain to him, had tried to smile at him, to smile at him with the smile he thought he would never ever see again, with the smile he imagined so many times, for so many months.

He didn't even look at her.

He couldn't look at the person he thought he would never see again.

Shock was holding him back, keeping him from accepting the truth, keeping him from saying anything to anyone.

She was alive.

It wasn't real.

He was going to wake up, wake up anytime, and she was going to be gone, and the pain the pain he felt the pain he had forced himself to feel for months, he would go back to that, he was going to wake up and it would all go back to normal.

He thought that the pain from before, the heart breaking pain of never seeing her again, he thought that that pain was much better than the one he was feeling now, at least he had a reason for that pain, at least with that pain he didn't have to live with the overwhelming shock.

Doyle had been caught, the man that Spencer had tried his hardest to find- for her it was all for her -and that came with repercussions of its own.

The team was forced to go under trial, was forced to recount everything that happened, was forced to prove to the judge that they were worth keeping their jobs.

Spencer still wasn't talking to her, even when she tried to go up to him, even when she called him with the new phone he had gotten, even when the team pulled him away from work and took him out, even then he refused to talk to her.

He was so terrified.

He wanted it all to be real, wanted it all to be real, didn't want to have to wake up to the dream he was living.

He still wasn't sure if it was real at all.

It took weeks, weeks of putting her things back together, weeks of trying to get back to work, weeks of getting everything ready so she could get back to her life, weeks of overwhelming changes that came with being gone for half a year.

It took weeks for her to get Spencer alone.

She knew he didn't want to talk to her, she couldn't tell if it was because he was angry, angry that they lied, or if it was because he didn't want to talk to her, didn't want to learn about the persons she had become in the months they had been apart.

She didn't care.

She loved him, she still loved him so much, so much that he’d been the only reason she got better, the only reason she had stayed away from him for so long. Her love hadn't faded, hadn't removed itself from every inch of her body even a little bit, and he had to know.

He had to know how sorry she was.

It took weeks to get the chance to talk to him.

It was a celebratory party, one celebrating Emily and her, one celebrating the jobs that they were allowed to keep. It was a celebration.

And Spencer still felt dead on his feet, still felt like he wasn't allowed to talk, wasn't allowed to look at her.

He could barely stand to feel her body heat, to feel her presence from across the room.

So he found a balcony, one that was big enough for him to not feel as claustrophobic, one that looked up at the stars.

That's where she found him.

She just watched him for a moment, she appreciated the peaceful look on his face, the look she hadn't seen on him in months, she appreciated him just standing there. When he was standing there he reminded her a little bit more of the friend she had left behind.

She stared for a couple of minutes.

And then Spencer started to feel it.

He felt the change in the air, the shift in the mood, he felt the body language coming from her almost ten feet away, and he could practically smell the perfume he hoped she still used.

He turned around.

And he looked at her.

Accidentally.

And he felt his heart being torn apart.

She looked beautiful, she was smiling a soft smile, her eyes were alive and bright, her skin was glowing and Spencer could feel the warmth reflecting off of her onto him.

It was the first time he had looked at her since he’d found out.

And she was beautiful.

He felt his heart shattering into pieces at the realization of just how much he had missed her, at just how much his heart had longed for her to come back, at the feeling of the empty space she’d left behind being filled.

He had no idea how to deal with the feeling.

He was so overwhelmed.

“Hey, Spence.”

And he felt himself sob at the sound of her voice.

At the words, he had imagined her saying so many times, at the gentle vibration, at the gentle tone she always used with him, at the sound of the voice he had longed for, the voice he had kept hidden in his head for so long.

She was alive.

“Oh, Spencer.” She said as she walked over to him, as she grabbed his arm as she touched him for the first time in months.

He sobbed harder at her touch.

And he desperately grabbed onto her.

He desperately held her.

He relaxed in the feel of her arms around him, in the feel of her gentle curves, at the feeling of her just being there.

She was just there.

He held on to her tighter.

He was so afraid she was going to leave, that she was going to disappear out of thin air, that she was going to be gone, that she was going to leave just like she had before.

“Please don't leave.” he choked out, his voice breaking, his eyes terrified, his body falling to pieces in her hands, in the hands of the person he had missed for so long.

Tears fell from her eyes at his words.

“I’m not going to Spence. I’m not leaving you again,” she assured him, she said completely sure that it was the truth.

“Y/N” he sobbed again, his body shaking as he held her, as he said her name, as he said the one word he hadn't muttered in months.

She was actually there.

Y/N breathed him in, she held onto him, she tried to search for the words that would convince him, that would tell him that she was never going to leave, that she would never leave him again, that she couldn't stand to be apart from him.

They stood there, together, just together, for the first time in so long, they stood there and they held each other, held the pieces together.

She was alive.

Spencer tried to breathe, he tried to control himself, he pulled back so he could look at her again, so he could memorize everything about her, all the things he was worried he would forget, he looked at her and felt the air finally make it to his lungs as a sweet relief, he felt his entire body-calming, his darkness moving out of the way at just the sight of her face again.

“Y/N.” he said again, his voice less desperate, but his tone more final.

He was trying to convince himself of the truth again.

“Spencer,” she said back, she said quietly. And she smiled at him.

And he couldn't help but smile back, he couldn't help but appreciate the truth at that moment, he couldn't help but feel the cool relief rush through his burning body, rush through all of the things he was trying to keep calm.

“I love you,” she said.

And Spencer felt amazed.

It wasn't a goodbye, it wasn't like last time, she wasn't desperate, or scared, or in pain, she was right there in front of him, admitting the words, admitting the truth that he hadn't been brave enough to say, she was right in front of him and she was telling him she loved him, and she was alive she was alive and-

He loved her. He loved her so much, he loved her more than he loved anything else, he missed her more than anything, and he wasn't going to let her go. He wasn't going to ever let her go.

No, she wasn't saying goodbye this time.

She was,

“I love you.” he choked out, his words blocked by the bliss in his chest, the exhilaration in his body, his words hidden behind the tears he was letting run down his cheeks.

This wasn't a goodbye.

“I love you.”

It was

Hello.

my masterlist here

do you get it? goodbye? hello? dsfshds look at me connecting the dots i’m so funny thank you so much for reading

taglist: @fiftyshadesof-reid @gublerspublers @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @jamesdeerest

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg blurb #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds rp #criminal minds headcanons

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house-of-galathynius · 4 years ago

Text

Farewell ~ToG

I started writing this over a month ago and didn’t touch it until today. The timing was unfortunate, but wanted to share. This will be just a one chapter thing and it doesn’t link into any of my other fics at the moment (maybe I’ll make it a bonus chapter when I finish Only You... we’ll see). Anyway, enjoy!

Wordcount: 3,030

Since Aelin had been old enough to fully understand what it meant to be immortal she had tried not to let her thoughts be consumed by the inevitable truth that plagued her. One day her family and her friends would die, and she would be left in the world alone. The things that she once knew and loved would be gone and she would watch as the world shifted around her while she remained unchanged.

She was lucky in so much that she had found Rowan. Her parents and friends may not be immortal, but she savoured the knowledge that he would be there with her through the grief that was coming.

She sat by her fathers bed; his hair long gone grey, his face older, but still familiar. She held her fathers favourite book in her hands, reading the pages slowly as he drifted in and out of sleep. In those brief moments of consciousness he would hold her hand and they would talk about the lives they’d had, he told her stories of his childhood, of his love with her mother. Aelin would only listen, trying to savour the sound of his voice, praying that even when she was hundreds of years old, she would still remember it.

It had been a few hours since he last woke, the time between them getting longer with each passing minute. Still she would not leave his side.

“Aelin.”

She turned to her mate who was loitering in the doorway, a cup of steaming tea in his hand. He moved closer, placing the tea on the table next to her.

“How is he?” He placed his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging the knots that had formed. His thumb brushing her skin.

“Getting worse.” Her voice cracked. “They informed me it wouldn’t be long.”

Rowan didn’t say a thing as he pulled a chair up next to her, his hand finding hers. She let a few tears fall, the drops hitting the open pages of the book.

It had not been long since she had been sat by her mothers bedside, holding her hands and hearing her mothers words of encouragement, her greatest wishes and her regrets— not that there had been many regrets. Aelin had been by her side, her father sat with her too, both crying as they said their goodbyes. The loss of her mother was a pain she would feel for a long time still. Only two years had passed and she missed her with such ferocity that it took her by surprise sometimes.

She was thankful for the time she had been given, her parents had lived long lives and she would be eternally grateful for that time. But despite their long lives, Aelin had many more things she wished they could have seen, could experience. They would never meet their grandchildren— something that had torn Aelin apart. She had cursed the fae bloodline, unfair that it was so difficult to conceive, unfair that despite trying for years there had been no success.

It will happen for us.

She turned to Rowan, who was already looking at her.

“I just wanted them to meet their grandchildren.” She whispered, more tears threatening to spill.

Her father stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He managed a small smile as he looked upon the two fo them.

“Do you not have more important things to do?” Her fathers voice was quiet as he spoke, his words coming out croaky. Rowan huffed out a laugh.

“There is nothing more important than me being here Papa.”

She gripped her fathers hand tight, his own grip weak— so different from the man he used to be. She held on tight as her father closed his eyes again, his head falling slightly to the side. Aelin tried to hold back the sob that threatened to come out. Rowan’s hand was on her back, rubbing soothing circles.

She didn’t know how long she sat there. The day had turned to night, healers had been in once more, lighting candles on their way, bathing the room in a soft glow. They never approached Aelin nor did they engage in any conversation; they knew she was mourning, so they gave her space. Rowan had retreated to their own rooms a while ago, letting her have these last moments alone with her father.

When the candles had burned themselves out and the room had finally plunged into darkness, the only light from the moon through the window, she stood from her fathers side. She placed a kiss on his forehead, whispering, “I love you.”

She didn’t expect a response, but her fathers voice whispered out his response. “I love you too, Fireheart.”

Aelin couldn’t help the tears this time, letting them fall as she tried to comprehend what was happening.

“Why do you cry?”

“I don’t want you to leave.” She managed to get the words out between her sobs. “I have tried to be strong for you and for everyone else around me… but—” she hiccupped. “What will I do without you?”

“You are the strongest, most brave woman I know, Aelin.” He took a deep breath, his lungs wheezing. “And even though I am leaving, it doesn’t mean I won’t be right by your side. Your mother and I will be with you for eternity; until we meet again in the afterlife.”

“Pappa…”

“We are—“ another deep breath. “We are so proud of you, of what you have become.”

She felt her soul being crushed as he said those words. Her father patted the space beside him, and she didn’t hesitate to crawl beside him and curl into him.

“There were so many things I wanted to show you… to experience with you.” She found his hand again, holding tight. “I wanted to give you grandchildren and I wanted you to see the theatre we built for mamma.”

“You gave me everything I needed, Fireheart.”

It was silent a while, Aelin could still feel the rise and fall of his chest— a relief. She didn’t stir as a healer came in the room. She took one look at Aelin and her father and left just as quickly as they had arrived.

Aelin remained curled to her fathers side, sleep finding her soon enough. She dreamed of her mother mostly, of their lives together; of the happy memories they had shared. The dream was bright and lovely, full of laughter and love and pure joy, and moments before she woke, her father entered that dream too. His face no longer worn with age, but youthful, vibrant. Her parents smiled at her, their own hands clasped together as they waved to Aelin. She tried to hold on, hold on to that picture of them. But all too soon her eyes opened and she knew.

The morning had not yet come, the sky still speckled with stars. She did not move, her eyes staring out to the sky beyond— wishing she could rewind the night and say goodbye one last time. The soft rise and fall of her fathers chest had ceased, his light breaths no more.

Aelin summoned all the energy she had, sliding off the bed and standing. She did not face her father, who would be lying there, unmoving— gone. So she slipped out of the door to find the guards outside, standing to attention.

“I need you to fetch Rowan and a healer.”

Aelin did not know how she sounded so calm, her voice strong and commanding— not when she felt like she was falling apart. Both her parents lost to the inescapable doom of time. Although Aelin knew it was coming, that one day she would have to say goodbye to the ones she loved… still she did not feel prepared for when it. She never thought the last time would be the last time. The absence of them enveloping her.

“Your majesty.” The healer curtsied low as she halted in front of her.

“My father—“ She cleared her throat. “He is gone.”

The healer rose, nodded once and entered the room behind her.

Aelin remained in the hallway. The quietness that had been before was broken by the sounds of footsteps from all directions. More healers entered the room, all of them curtsying low as they took in Aelin. Two new guards arrived. But the person she wanted the most was nowhere to be seen.

“Your majesty?” A small voice from behind her. “This is for you.”

The small girl handed Aelin a piece of rolled parchment, her fathers messy scribbles visible on one side.

“Thank you.”

She waited outside the room.

“Fireheart?” At the sound of her mates voice she broke. Rowan caught her before she hit the ground, his muscled arms coming around her, an unyielding force. “It’s alright, I’m here.”

She sobbed, she let her cries fill the hallways, she unleashed the pain and utter heartbreak within. Her body shaking in the arms of her mate as he held her steady on the floor.

“Let it out. I’m here.” He kissed her head as she cried into his chest, her tears soaking the shirt.

“He’s gone.” Another sob. “They’re both gone.”

“I know, Fireheart. I know.” Rowan stroked her back as she clenched his shirt in her hands, her sobs easing slightly, the tears still running down her cheeks like rivers.

“Why?”

She looked to him, his pine green eyes already on her. He kissed her forehead and pulled her in closer, hugging her tight as he gave another soft kiss on her head.

“There is no explanation good enough to say why we lose the people we love.” He murmured.

Aelin sniffed, letting out a heaving sigh as she let the tears continue to fall. “I’m never— Gods.” She furiously wiped at her face. “It isn’t fair.” Her voice a whisper.

“They’ll always be with you. Wherever life takes you, they’ll be there.”

She wiped away the tears with her shaky hands. “I just want one more day with him, to hug him goodbye again, to tell him I love him.”

Rowan stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head, holding her closer as she cried.

They didn’t say anything for a while longer; Rowan holding her all the while. They ignored the comings and goings of the staff, Rowan making sure no one disturbed them.

Aelin did not know how long she stay there with Rowan. But the sun had fully risen in the sky, it’s rays shining through the large window, bathing the hallway in glorious warmth.

“Fireheart?”

She glanced up.

“It’s time, my love.”

She stood in time to see her father being carried out of the room. His body draped in white linen, a single white lily placed in the centre of his too still chest. It had been a tradition in Terrasen for hundreds of years to follow the dead to each of their resting places. The first being the healers wing— where they would be embalmed and priestesses would come to pray for their souls. The second place being the mourning room within the palace; where family and close friends would come to pay their respects. The final spot would be the burial. Her father would be buried next to her mother, their bodies laid to rest together— as they had always requested.

Rowan placed his hand on her back, his touch soothing and steady.

Aelin could not remain with the healers for long. Whilst they waited for the priestess to arrive she waited outside the door, letting them prepare her fathers body. Rowan remained by her side holding her hand, letting her cry when the grief overwhelmed her once more.

When the priestess finally arrived they followed her into the room, candles were dotted around the room basking it in a soft glow. Her father was covered in clean linens a deep shade of green to represent the colours of Terrasen. Traditional flowers had been arranged around him. She hated seeing him like this— she had hated it with her mother too. She hated how he was so still, another solid reminder that he was gone and would not be coming back. He would not sit up and make a joke or gently snore like he used to when he would fall asleep in the armchair in the library.

“Would you like to say any words, your majesty?” The priestess looked upon Aelin, her brown eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

Aelin shook her head. The time for words would come later. Right now she wanted to have this over with so she could go back to her rooms and cry until she fell asleep.

The priestess bowed her head and began her prayers. She started in the old language, most of which Aelin did not understand. Prayer after prayer she would say until she began her final blessing— in their own language this time. It was a traditional blessing, one that all people who had passed would have. A blessing to heal their souls, to send them on their way to the afterlife safely. The blessing was short but the words still made Aelin weep.

The priestess lit one final candle which would burn until his official funeral, then when his body was laid to rest it would be extinguished.

The priestess finished with a final amen, curtsying low as she disappeared out of the room. Rowan squeezed her hand as they exited the room not too soon after.

Rowan and Aelin walked in silence, her tears silently falling as they made their way to their room.

“I think you should eat. It’s been a long time since your last proper meal.”

“I’m not hungry.” She entered the room, everything left how it had been before her father had passed. Rowan’s desk scattered with papers, her own desk the same. Piles of books lay there, the candles burnt out, wax dripped down the sides of the gold holders.

She turned her eyes to the paper on her bedside. The note her father had given her.

Rowan followed her gaze. She had not opened it. She had given it to Rowan who had placed it there, knowing that perhaps she would want to read it sooner rather than later. But she had not had the courage to do so. The folded note taunting her.

“You should read it.”

She shook her head. Looking back to Rowan. “I don’t want to.”

He brushed a strand of her hair aside. “Think about it whilst I get some food for us, okay?” He kissed her forehead, lingering, before pulling away and heading back out of the bedroom.

She suddenly felt exhausted, the weight of the day hitting her. Aelin moved slowly to the washroom, her every movement heavy. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and cringed at the woman she beheld. Her hair had come loose from the braid she had hurriedly done that morning, dark circles beneath her red eyes. Perhaps on a normal day she would be mortified of her appearance but today she did not care. She forwent washing her face and brushing her hair; instead she undressed and found Rowan’s shirt that was strewn across the wooden chair.

She padded back to the bedroom, sliding into the soft sheets of the bed, pulling them up around her. As she lay there she stared to the note. She wanted more than anything to read it, to see her fathers words, to lay her eyes upon his handwriting, to have a last moment of closeness to him.

She knew he would want her to look at it, to read it. He would want her to know the words he had written, to find comfort in them.

So Aelin took a shaky breath and reached for the parchment, and slowly unrolled it.

My dear Fireheart,

The time has finally come for me to say goodbye to you. I have rewritten this letter more times than I wish to admit— but I have so much to say and I am finding it hard to find the right words.

I know that my death will be hard on you, for many reasons. But I want you to know that I will always be by your side, wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be there with you. You may not see me anymore or hear me but I will be there supporting you for all eternity.

I do not wish for you to mourn me too long— for I want you to be happy, to thrive and not dwell on these mortal things. You are so much stronger than you could ever imagine and I believe in your strength to overcome. I know happiness seems so far away, but remember to laugh and enjoy the beauty in this world, to smile and treasure every moment.

I’ve given you a lot of advice over your life, some good and some bad and I wish I had more wisdom to to give but I think you probably have more to give to me. Despite my shortcomings, I hope you know that everything I have done has been because I love you and I only wanted you to be the best version of yourself— and when I look at who you are now, I can see that you are.

I know you wished for more time with us. You wanted to give us so much— not just grandchildren, but a new Orynth, a better world— but what you did not realise was that there was nothing you needed to give us, there was nothing we wanted you to give; because having you as a daughter has been everything I have ever needed or wanted. You are my pride and joy and I love you with everything that I am.

The greatest honour of my life has been being your father; and when the time comes, your mother and I will be waiting for you in the afterlife.

Do not cry for what you have lost, but rejoice for the times to come.

I love you more than you will ever know.

Until we meet again,

Pappa

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kinktae · 5 years ago

Text

bitchin’ || pt. 7 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 3.4k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: sorry this chapter is so short :(

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART SEVEN

Your fingers wrapped around the metal handle, prying open the door of your dorm.

Unsurprisingly, you were met with a mop of dark hair and a full set of white teeth, Jungkook's smile wide and blinding. You had figured the incessant knocking was his doing.

"Yes?"

Your tone was dry, clueing Jungkook in that despite the 24 hours that had passed since the day of your event, you were still, in fact, pissed at him.

Moving a hand from behind his back, he presented you with a bouquet of yellow flowers, jutting them your way. Your eyes fell onto the flowers with indifference, clearly not impressed.

"These are for you." He enthused.

"Is this your way of apologizing?"

Jungkook sighed, flowers falling to his side, “Change into something nice, we’re going out.”

You quirked a brow at him.

“Uh, or don’t! What you’re wearing right now is cool too! Totally up to you.” He backtracked quickly.

You were in polka-dotted pajama pants, a plain white t-shirt on your upper body– his shirt actually. You had stolen it from him some time ago, he was just good-natured enough to pretend like he hadn't noticed.

Rolling your eyes, you snatched the bouquet out of his eyes, the faintest hint of a grin on your lips.

"Fine." You agreed, hand coming out to press back against his chest as he tried to walk into your dorm. "But you're waiting here."

Jungkook pouted as the door shut shortly after, feeling very much like a puppy who had been put in time out.

And just like a puppy, any grudge he felt towards his owner was forgotten the moment you came back out, his cheeks warm as you intertwined your hand with his, unable to hold a grudge against him either.

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"Is the blindfold really necessary?" Your voice wavered nervously, a scarf wrapped tightly around your head to block your vision. You had both of your hands gripped around Jungkook's arm as he attempted to guide you up a set of stairs.

"Yes, it'll ruin the surprise if you see where we're going."

"My ass is going to be ruined if I fall and bust it."

"And what a nice ass it is." Jungkook tutted sadly, causing you to snort.

"Make sure you're paying attention to where we're going." You scolded, slapping his bicep.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, "Relax, nerd, we're here."

Your steps were brought to a halt, the sound of a heavy door opening ringing out. You cocked your head as a breeze washed over you, the kind that didn’t feel like it came from air conditioning.

"Grant me sight, oh powerful one." You joked as Jungkook began to untie your blindfold.

You squinted harshly as light flooded your eyes, blinking away spots the blurriness as you took in your surroundings.

"Where are we?" You marveled.

"The multimedia building rooftop." He informed you as you stepped out of the doorway, admiring the garden that was spread across the entire space. A makeshift greenhouse, you deduced. "It's where the Botany Club and Gardening Club meet and work."

You were absolutely enthralled, you hadn't the slightest clue that a place like this was sitting hidden on your campus. And as beautiful as it was up here, it was the woven picnic basket sitting by a bush of familiar-looking yellow flowers that caught your attention. Immediately, you recognized them as being the flowers Jungkook had gifted you with back at your dorm. You grinned.

Accompanying the basket was a pile of colorful blankets laid out of the concrete floor, along with pillows and another bouquet of yellow flowers, this time set up nicely in a glass vase.

"You know I don't cook, but, uh, I do know how to make a mean PB&J sandwich so..." Jungkook laughed nervously, gesturing towards the picnic he had set up.

A strange feeling fluttered in your stomach, and you brought up a hand to press up against it reflexively. He had arranged all of this... for you?

"Oh, wow." Was your response, the butterflies in your stomach hard to ignore.

Your reaction was hard to decipher and it made Jungkook incredibly anxious. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "Well, let's go, nerd."

You followed Jungkook over to the picnic scene, sliding off your shoes before stepping onto the blanketed spot, flopping down with an excited giggle. You had been toying with the tassels of one of the pillows near you when Jungkook pulled out a small portable radio for the basket, a word of approval leaving your lips. He really did think of everything, didn't he?

"How did you even find this place?" You marvel as he fiddled with the radio dial, flipping through stations until he found one he was content with.

"I went to a photography club meeting and they mentioned this place being a good spot for sunset shots."

You had taken note a little wooden popsicle stick poking up from the soil of the yellow flowers. Acacias, they were marked. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you considering his words.

"You went to a photography club meeting? Wait, are you–"

"I'm considering switching majors, yeah." He cut you off, leaning back away from the radio and taking a seat beside you.

"Not even!" You gaped.

"It's not that big of a deal." He shrugged nonchalantly. He was only changing his entire career path because you had told him you believed in him. No biggie, right?

"It's huge news, I mean, you're taking the initiative and pursuing your passion. I'm amped for you." You grinned to which Jungkook couldn't help but return, reaching into the picnic basket to pull out your sandwiches.

The two of you sat beside each other comfortably, washing your food down with sips from your respective juice boxes, which Jungkook had so endearingly provided. You hummed along to the radio as the sun slowly started its descent down the sky.

Suddenly, Jungkook cleared his throat, a clear sign that he was asking for your attention.

"So, you probably know why I brought you here."

You nodded.

"You're proposing, right?"

"Yeah, I– oh, shut up." He laughed, the serious mood shattering as you joined him.

“No, I just really wanted to apologize for the way I behaved at your event. I acted on impulse and wasn't thinking past my... raging man ego or whatever." Jungkook sighed, eyes meeting yours earnestly. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, eager to hear him out.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I would never want to do anything to hurt my best friend and I know how hard you worked on this event and— why are you looking at me like that?” He huffed, cutting himself off mid-apology.

“You just called me your best friend.” You beamed, cheeks round.

Jungkook felt himself redden, turning away from your admittedly adorable expression.

“Yeah. So?”

“That’s so cute.” You fawned. “And you did all this for me. You can be really sweet when you want to be, you know.”

Jungkook wasn’t used to this kind of doting affection being directed at him, much less coming from you of all people. He swatted away your hand that had reached out to pinch his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, just zip it before I demote you back down to classroom acquaintance.”

You hummed contentedly, “I accept your apology. And for what it's worth, I also consider you to be one of my best friends.”

"Ouch, just one of them? That's cold." Jungkook pouted, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Sorry, Yara's got spot number one on lock." You shrugged, bringing your juice box to your mouth as you took a sip. "Chicks before dicks."

"Fine, but tell me I'm at least best friend number two."

"Hmm..." You tapped at your chin, pretending to think about your response.

"What the hell? Who could possibly be before me? Taehyung?...Kiri?" Jungkook teased.

At the sound of Kiri's name, you physically tensed, something Jungkook didn't fail to notice.

"...Yep, definitely Kiri." You played along half-heartedly.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" You straightened up suddenly, turning towards the boy. "You told me Kiri left you for Eunwoo, right?"

"Yeah... Why?"

"Oh. Well, I dunno, I heard from someone that you and Kiri were actually broken up at the time." You fiddled with your fingers anxiously, choosing to omit the fact that his ex-girlfriend had been your source of information.

The long-haired boy stared at you for a moment, expression unreadable as he took in your uneasy state.

"Well. Yeah. We weren't together." He answered finally, causing your stomach to drop.

Wait... Kiri had told the truth?

"But you said she left you for him? You lied to me." You breathed in disbelief.

"Hold on, I didn't lie." He pressed, brows furrowing at your words. "Yes, we weren't together, but we weren't broken up either?"

You flashed him a confused look, urging him to explain further.

He let out a sigh, stretching out his legs in front of him, "We had been arguing a lot, like more than usual, so we both agreed to take a break from each other– nothing permanent, just some time apart where we didn't see each other every day like we had been. The morning before I met you, however, I was coming down one of the halls at the Beta Tau Sigma house when I caught her sneaking out of Eunwoo's room. She broke up with me before I even got to say a single word. So yeah. She left me for Eunwoo."

You felt your shoulders fall, body relaxing at this new information.

"Oh."

"I was going to take her out for dinner that same day too. Clearly, we were on different pages on what this break was supposed to be for. Any other questions?" Jungkook quirked an eyebrow up at you pointedly, and suddenly you were filled with guilt.

Was this whole thing really just one giant miscommunication between the two? Kiri under the impression that they were broken up while Jungkook wasn’t? Jeez, you really jumped the gun there, didn't you?

"Ah, shit... Well, now I feel like a total wastoid for accusing you of lying." You expressed your regret, poking a finger into his thigh sheepishly.

Jungkook gave you a once over before chuckling, a hand reaching out to take your face between his fingers as he squeezed your cheeks.

"Say you're sorry."

"'M s’rry!" Your muffled words came through squished lips causing him to giggle.

"Say 'Gosh, Jungkook! You're such an honest and wonderful person. I'm a fool for ever doubting you.’'" He smirked. You rolled your eyes, face having grown sore.

"Asshole, let m’go! M'cheeks hurt!"

Thankfully, he granted your request, freeing your cheeks from their state of enslavement so that you could rub at them woefully.

"You're a child." You scowled.

"You sound like Kiri." Jungkook reminisced, recalling how his ex-girlfriend often said those very words.

"Yeah, well, soon enough it'll be her saying that instead of me." You joked.

The joke fell flat, failing to earn even a smile from him.

"Nah," he replied coldly, "like you said, if she wanted me back, she'd already have come back."

You cursed internally. You had completely forgotten you had spat that out while scolding Jungkook for nearly going apeshit on Eunwoo, and once again, you were left feeling shitty.

"Hey, I said that out of frustration, I didn't really mean it. I'm sure she'll come crawling back soon." You attempted to comfort him, hoping to sound sincere.

"Even if that's true, I'm not entirely sure I want that anymore."

"What?" You blinked. Jungkook shrugged.

"What about us?" He met your eyes, causing your breath to hitch.

"What about us?"

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, noting the way the timber in your voice had become higher pitched as if panicked.

"Yara told me how you'd be really bummed if you lost me once Kiri and I got back together. But Y/N, Kiri is going to think you're my ex-girlfriend... there's just no way she'd be okay with me hanging out with you. I don't know if I want to get back together with her if it's going to hurt you..."

The chirps of nearby birds slowly fizzed into a dull hum, drowned out by the deafening pounding of your heart.

Your face felt hot. When you told Yara all that stuff about how fond you had grown of Jungkook, you had been notably drunk from Roommate Wine Night, uncharacteristically vulnerable and in your head. Even so, you didn't think that Yara was gonna go and tell him.

She was so dead.

But what the hell was he saying? He would give up on Kiri just so you didn't have to lose him? He'd give up what he wanted just for you?

"Idiot." You scoffed suddenly, taking him by surprise. "Who cares about me? Yes, I'll probably be really sad that we don't get to hang out anymore but, whatever, I'll get over it. I got my event. You're going to get your end of the deal too, I'll make sure of it."

Your determination was hard set in your eyes which held his pensive ones.

"Kiri will come back, okay? Like, c'mon! She knows she can't do better than you."

Jungkook shot you an insincere smile, "Ah, I'm not so sure she thinks that's true anymore."

"Stop. Listen to me, Jungkook, you're a fucking great guy, okay? You're charismatic and funny and care about your friends... sure, you almost ruined my event, but it was mostly to defend my best friend when Eunwoo got too pushy, right? You're a good guy, meathead. I know I joke about your ego, but I really believe you're capable of more than you think you are. Seriously, Kiri is so lucky to be the object of your affection."

Jungkook watched the way the sun's orange light kissed your face, a bittersweet feeling growing in his chest as he contemplated the object of his affection. Just a couple of months ago, he would have had no doubt about who held his heart, but as you held his stare, he found himself unsure and yet, entirely sure all the same.

“Jungkook? You okay?” You frowned, catching in the sadness in his eyes.

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. I just… realized something.”

“Oh? What's that?”

“...It doesn't matter.” He smiled, the gesture hardly reaching his eyes.

You looked at him for a moment, skepticism evident in those beautiful eyes of yours that reflected the sky's deepening orange and red colors. Jungkook felt like he was sinking into them. Burying himself further and further into a hole that he was unaware had even existed until now and he was in too deep to pull himself back up.

"Kiss me." He spoke softly, making your eyes grow wide. "Please."

There was a note of melancholy to his tone, unlike you had ever heard come from him before. You fought back to urge to dissect it further, choosing instead to oblige his request and press your mouth into his, the thought that he was holding you tighter than usual failing to cross your mind.

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“Hey, hey, hey, hey! What is going on here?”

Yara giggled at the television show, popping a chip into her mouth, the crunching sound pulling you from the thought that had been occupying your mind. Tugging at scrunchie you had on your wrist, you searched for the right way to go about sharing your feelings.

“Yara?”

“Yeah?” The girl in question responded, eyes still fixated on the ever so charming A.C. Slater.

“...Nevermind.” You retracted, shaking your head dismissively.

And just like that, the Saved By The Bell episode was entirely forgotten, Yara's hands taking purchase on your shoulders.

“Bitch, you already have my attention, don’t just blue balls me like that.” She whined, shaking you slightly. You turned away from her curious eyes.

“It’s just… ah, seriously, nevermind, I’m pretty sure I’m just up in my head.” You shrugged her off, leaning back into the couch.

Your best friend watched your suddenly indifferent presence with pursed lips, not buying it for a second.

“You’re gonna ask about Jungkook, right?”

You turned towards Yara, suspicious written all over your narrowed eyes, “How did you know that?”

“I’m a mind reader.” She rolled her eyes passively, turning back to the television. “So, what’s up?”

“I dunno, I just feel like things are so... different between us.”

At your revelation, Yara’s eyes flicked back over to you, “Bad different?”

“No. It’s actually kind of nice. I think.” You frowned, trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“So... good different.” Yara concluded.

“It’s just funny. When I look at the start this whole deal between Jungkook and me—”

“You mean back when you and Jungkook weren’t going at it like animals and having secret rooftop picnics?”

You held her stare for a moment, teeth sinking down into your bottom lip.

“Yeah. Things are so different. I remember a time where I couldn’t even stand being in the same room as him and now…”

"And now you're completely infatuated with him." She sympathized, shaking her head sadly.

“W-What? What the hell are you yapping about? I was gonna say that I actually think of him as a close friend.”

“Oh, Y/N.” Yara let out a breath, her hand placing itself on your head.

“Poor, poor stupid Y/N.” She patted it with a sad look. “How blind you are.”

You swatted your best friend’s hand away, “Get your grubby paws off of me, weirdo. I do not like Jungkook!”

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your throat as you said those words; you swallowed it down immediately.

“Seriously? Y/N, you’re whipped for that kid. Big time.”

“I thought I told you to lay off the crack.” You deadpanned.

“Funny.” Yara glared. “Seriously though, you guys are walking around in a fake relationship while having real feelings for each other and real sex. If anyone’s trippin', it’s you two.”

“Okay, just because people have sex doesn’t mean feelings are always involved.” You scoffed.

“Oh girl, you don’t have to tell that to me, my emotionally constipated ass knows that better than anyone.” Yara mused before shaking her head. “But it’s different with you guys. I see the way you light up whenever he’s near. It’s totally palpable the way you two yearn for each other.”

That wasn't true, wasn't it? Sure, you did notice yourself thinking about him whenever you weren't with him, but wasn't that just because he was a friend? Don't friends usually wonder what the other is doing whenever they're apart? Didn't friends spend hours thinking about the time they spent with each other after they parted?

Suddenly, you felt nauseous.

“Fuck.” You breathed out.

Yara pressed her lips together, taking in the way you suddenly looked like you were one second away from barfing into the bowl of popcorn you had on your lap. She had a reasonably strong guess as to what exactly was running through your mind at this very moment.

"Wanna hear something funny?" She said finally, offering you a change of subject should you take it.

"Yes, please." Was your weak reply.

“I’ve fucked Eunwoo. Eunwoo has fucked Kiri. Kiri has fucked Jungkook, and Jungkook has fucked you."

You blinked, "Yeah?"

"Hello!" Yara exclaimed, "Isn’t that wild? It’s like one big orgy!”

A sharp snort left your nose, sufficiently amused.

"Only one thing left to do for this love chain to come full circle." Yara's eyes suddenly grew mischievous, scooting in closer to you.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"We gotta get it on, baby!" Yara waggled her eyebrows suggestively, sending you into a round of laughter. She grinned back at you. "Why are you laughing? You don't think I could rock your world?"

"I think you're insane and need to get laid by someone who isn't me." You reasoned, nudging your shoulder into hers.

"Ugh, you're probably right." She sighed in defeat. You knew Yara well enough that this was her attempt to distract you and make you feel better, and honestly, it had worked. For the most part.

You let out a sigh of your own, leaning over to rest the side of your head against hers.

"Do you really think I like Jungkook?" You asked quietly.

Yara let out a contemplative hum as if considering her reply before speaking.

"Honestly, what I think doesn't really matter. What matters is how you feel, you know?"

"Yeah," you exhaled, biting the inside of your cheek as a sinking feeling of understanding finally washed over you, "I think I do."

4K notes · View notes

threeminutesoflife · 4 years ago

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Hindsight is 20/20

Pairings: Dark!Steve x Dark!Reader Warrnings: death of minor character, stalking, masturbation, oral sex- male receiving Word Count: 3k a/n: Congratulations on the 15k milestone, @sherrybaby14 sweet Scream Queen!❣️ Thank you for hosting #promptchallenge, Lady! 🧡🔪

Challenge prompt/Summary: #27/Steve- “Stalker!Steve finally gives up and the reader misses him so she starts stalking him and he likes it!”

It was all obnoxiously poetic- the way her hair fanned out and struck the air, the whiplash of movement, and the extension of her flailing arms.

Her body performed a morbid ballet when you pushed her onto the subway tracks.

Her screams, their gasps, the failed brakes; between the brutality of gravity and the law of physics, the bitch even died pretty.

The overcrowded platform consumed your senses. The raunchy, celebratory cheers bounced off the tunnel walls and rang in your head as fans piled inhumanly close, trying to return home.

Beer breath and belches lingered overhead, sweat and humidity draped the subway tiles. Shoulders knocked into shoulders, and the little shoves and multiple bumps made your teeth grind.

Despite the acidic shuffle, your eyes stayed on her. She stood past the edge of the platform’s caution line, blissfully unaware. Cell phone in hand and fashionable jeans over her ass, she kept giggling at the phone’s screen. Fuck, she was annoying.

As you snaked closer, you saw her thumb jet across the device. Was she texting him? Were his replies the ones making her smile like that?

Your next thoughts made you pause behind a column with a frown. Does he send her gifts like the ones he sent you? Did she receive that gift?

That gift you still hold when falling asleep most nights- the teddy bear with the secret recording in his chest.

Does her teddy bear “growl” like yours?

You were sure Hallmark never intended for their sentimental creation to be used so obscenely, capturing the sounds of an overly-infatuated man pleasuring himself on the stuffed toy's recorder. People love in different ways, but you were sure his type of keepsake moment wasn’t marketable as a card in their stores.

At first, you were repulsed at the discovery. Your ear pressed against the chest of the bear, soft synthetic tickling your chin. Your brows furrowed slightly as you attempted to decode the rustling sounds. Juggling the bear until you finally located the volume button.

His deep, broken moans erupted from the toy’s chest, clarifying what the contents of the previously recorded message were. You never heard Steve like this. The revelation made your thigh muscles flex. Disgust and arousal hit you in one confusing punch. Annoyance and embarrassment slapped you next.

You dated Steve, twice; once for a late breakfast because he was leaving that afternoon for a mission, and the other was for lunch because he just returned. Both meals were eaten behind baseball hats and glasses so people wouldn't recognize him. Missions and responsibilities made it difficult to see him, and it didn’t help that both dates were cut short due to emergencies on his end. When he called after several weeks of radio silence, inviting you for brunch- you declined. You told him that you needed someone who could be present, someone who could really see you. You wished him well but said he wasn’t the one for you.

Over the clinking of his belt buckle and material shuffling rapidly on the recorder, Steve wished you farewell, “I wish you could see me as I’ve always seen you, sunshine. Goodbye.”

Throwing the obscene teddy bear back into the box, you kicked the package across the room.

After months of hangup calls from private numbers, flowers sent with no names attached, and an eerie feeling of a baseball-capped figure following you on the other side of the street- Steve finally let you go.

So why did your panties ache at the weight of that word- goodbye? Why was there an odd feeling of uncertainty growing in the pit of your stomach?

You were supposed to feel relief, but you didn't.

The weight of his absence slowly grew. You didn’t want him before, he didn’t have time for you. So why should you want him now?

So what if you didn’t have an acquaintance's admiration anymore? So what if your phone’s notification fell into a coma?

So what…

You didn’t want him, you convinced yourself that- but a small part of you liked knowing he was looking. Unsure how or when it happened, you began to actually miss him.

One night you pulled the obscene bear out of storage. The box should have been thrown out when first receiving it, but you somehow never found the time.

The bear still looked sharp and dapper, a little red bowtie garnishing the salacious audio recording.

The toy’s simple recorder didn’t have fast forward or rewind. So in your pining for Steve’s attention, you listened to his long audio of grunting and groaning- repeatedly.

You wanted to hear every noise he made. You needed the timber in his voice. The high and lows of his moans, his breath catching in his chest. The sounds he made when pleasuring himself to the thought of you...

You tried masking the reasons for your actions to yourself. You just needed to hear him say, “goodbye.” Hearing him say that one simple word would make it more official. Of course, hearing him say it and you accepting it were entirely different things.

As you repeatedly hit the play button and rested on the bed with the grunting toy beside you, you knew this was a mistake. Because he sounded good, damn good.

And that night started one of many. You’d mewl in sync with Steve's muffled groans coming from the stuffed bear's speakers, slipping one hand down your panties and covering your breast with the other. You unintentionally programmed yourself to cum as he did on the recording. Which meant, you needed to hear him cum on that audio for you to also find release.

___

The ringing in your head grew louder as you watched his new interest, your replacement, stand by the edge of the platform.

Her carefree, glossy smile seared itself in your mind as you replayed the image of Steve wrapping his arms around her on the sidewalk. He wished her good night with a soft kiss before letting her descend the subway’s stairs.

The longer you watched her, the easier it was for your jealousy to distort the fans’ cheers and drunken singing for the championship win into a slow chant of- “Push. Push. Push.”

Before your mind knew what your body had planned, your legs moved and arms shoved.

She was dead and you didn't mean to do it, at least- not out in the open. But everything in you just snapped.

You allowed the chaos of the crowd to swallow you and drown you in their sea of scared bystanders. Some pulled out phones, while others ran for high ground.

The passing subway train tried braking sooner; gears sparking and metal grinding. It was now half-hidden in the tunnel and half-exposed alongside the platform. The people on board shouted in horror after understanding why the platform crowd’s screamed for the non-stop subway train to stop.

Pushing your glasses further up your nose, you frantically scanned for the easiest escape. Pulling the bill of your cap down further over your face, you ran.

An emergency warning blared through the tunnel. Over the sirens, a voice encouraged everyone to stay calm. However, it only did the opposite- stoking people’s fears and peeking people’s curiosities.

Wearing a disguise similar to yours, Steve stalked your movements behind the thick-rimmed glasses. Off to the side and engulfed in shadows, he watched you under the rounded bill of his baseball cap. When his prior date’s screams broke out, he pulled his glasses down in shock but quickly recovered and slid them back into place.

He was taken back that you ended the girl so suddenly; surprised and oddly proud. Usually, he was the one who took the action and blocked your would-be suitors. But you doing this for him was a dream come true. His dick twitched at your declaration of love. You finally proved how much he meant to you.

Steve had pretended to leave you alone too long for his liking. But he was never far and you certainly weren't ever forgotten. Tonight, you finally showed him that his waiting was worth it- and that he wasn’t forgotten either.

After politely thanking and kissing the bland girl goodbye, he expected you to trail him back to his residence and wait until he entered his brownstone like you’ve done after his other dates.

It’s been your pattern for the last two months, but to his annoyance, you never approached him further and he was growing restless. He thought dating other women would smoke you out. But you stayed burrowed. However this time, he took the same girl out more than once. She got the third date you never did.

He wished he thought of recycling a date sooner, maybe you would have reacted quicker and not so much time would have been spent apart.

But you returned to him and that’s what mattered.

After adjusting his hardness, he checked the tracker on your phone and noted the direction you were headed. With muscle memory, he twisted through the crowd and made his way towards your apartment. You needed him.

Your breathing was labored as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, excessively stomping out your anger on each step as you replayed Steve kissing her.

She deserved what you did to her. Three dates were too many, you should have ended her after two.

Kicking off your shoes and throwing your hat aside in the apartment, you sneered at the thought of them together. You aggressively stripped your way down the hallway to the bathroom. Your shucked clothes knocked against the hanging picture frames.

After throwing your bra at your reflection in the mirror, you twisted the shower knobs into submission. The pipes groaned and the water slowly heated as you braced your arms on the counter. Leaning towards the mirror, you took a hard look at yourself.

After surveying the way the prop glasses perched themselves on the bridge of your nose, your eyes tracked over the curve of your chin and moved down to the elastic band of your panties -

THUMP

Your eyes snapped back up to your reflection as you frowned at the noise. Shaking your head at your imagination, you pushed yourself off the counter and reached for the candles. With the extra stress tonight brought, scented candles would be soothing-

THUMP

Was it your imagination? You turned the shower off and slowly opened the bathroom door. Your ears strained to catch the noise, but no sounds greeted you. Exhaling a huff, you were about to close the bathroom door when you heard a low rustling coming from your bedroom.

Wrapping a towel around your panty-covered body, your bare feet padded softly down the hallway to the incoherent sounds. Toeing open the door, your towel partially slipped when you saw Steve sitting on the edge of your bed. Hat and glasses on, he held the teddy bear that was currently playing your favorite lewd recording.

Steve jostled the bear back and forth between his hands. Tossing it up in the air, he caught it midfall, “There’s my sunshine! Been taking care of our bear, I see.”

Almost naked and fully shocked, you stared at Steve from the doorway, “What are you doing here?”

His eyes didn’t match the smirk on his face, “Now, sunshine, drop the act. I know what you did for us. I saw it.”

The bear moaned in his hands as you stared at him dumbfounded for getting caught. Trying for time, you asked, “Us being- you and the bear?”

“No, sunshine. You and me,” Steve gave a dry chuckle before tossing the stuffed animal over his shoulder. “It’s kind of odd being in your room and on your bed. Well, at least with you knowing I’m here this time, I mean.”

The towel dipped slightly from your grasp at his admission.

Steve caught your reaction with a grin, but his expression grew serious when he said, “All I ever wanted was for you to see me like I see you, sunshine.”

You felt his gaze roam over your exposed skin, trying to gauge your reaction to his ambushed presence. A part of you was glad to see him, but you thought you’d have more time to practice your confession about your feelings.

But maybe this was the push you needed, the tug in the right direction to be fully honest with yourself.

Looking at Steve, the screams of the woman you killed and the crowd’s outcries of fear failed to replay in your head. There was no play track of guilt.

The spot within you that should have been filled with remorse was replaced by the calming scent of his cologne and the enjoyment of hearing the recording of him pleasuring himself from the disregarded bear. Steve was in your room- and that realization caused a sweet wetness to gather between your thighs.

Steve toed out of his shoes and stood in front of your bed. Tossing his shirt aside, he stated, “I saw you missed me.”

You slowly dragged your eyes away from his tented pants, “Maybe I only missed the attention?”

Steve snorted at your words and walked closer, “No, sunshine. You missed us. And you gifted me such a sweet gesture- just like how I gifted you that bear. Granted yours was a bit more… homicidal, but it was sweet nonetheless.”

Your insides warmed at his touch. You rested your face in his palms as he cupped and rubbed his thumbs along your cheeks.

Steve gently touched his forehead against yours, pressing your glasses together. His bare chest grazed your towel, “You missed me, sunshine. Admit it.”

Looking over the rim of your glasses, his thumbs swept over your cheeks one more time before you reached for him and admitted what he wanted to hear with a kiss.

You missed his attention, you missed him.

The old recorded sounds of him cumming filled the room. You bit his bottom lip in the kiss, earning a growl from him.

You needed this, you needed him.

“You’re perfect for me. All this fire blazing under your skin, sunshine,” Steve moaned and praised you before deepening the kiss.

Without breaking his lips from yours, he took your elbow and pulled you towards the bed. Your fingers threaded through his hair as you stumbled over the forgotten towel.

“I can’t believe we’re here. I wanted this for so long,” Steve whispered into the curve of your neck and his hands roaming over your body. “I want to taste you. Feel your tight pussy wrapped around me. Fuck! I can’t decide how to take you first.”

“..No,” shaking your head at his words.

“What?”

“No. You don’t get to decide what we do first. I killed for us, I decide.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed with impatience, “...You made me wait.”

“So did you,” you countered, unzipping his pants and sliding your hands in his boxers. “But- I get to decide.”

Steve’s hips snapped forward when you wrapped your fingers around his cock. You eyed the stuffed bear in the corner and smiled wolfishly at Steve, “Be just as vocal for me, handsome.”

He struggled to talk as you ran your hand up and down his shaft with his pre-cum, “Keep... keep the glasses... on.”

Your hand stilled around him and your eyebrow arched. Steve looked hungry and confused until it registered that he tried ordering you.

“...P-please,” Steve whimpered a request at your motionless hold. “Please, keep the glasses on.”

With a sharp nod, your grip tightened again and you worked another groan out of him. You quickly pulled his pants down and pushed him to bed’s edge. Running your hands over his muscled thighs, you moved his legs apart and settled yourself before him.

Steve watched as you worked your way up his inner thighs, making him hiss in pleasure from every teasing squeeze and nibble.

“I’ll keep my glasses on but then you keep yours on, too,” you winked before pumping him towards your mouth and swirling your tongue around his red tip.

Steve inhaled with a stutter, lost in the way your wet lips felt wrapped around the head of his cock. He moaned in agreement when you took him further into your warm mouth.

His labored breaths made your thighs rub together. All those familiar sounds you craved when masturbating to his recording were sharper and deeper now that he loomed over you.

Steve was captivated by you- and you felt powerful. Each long lick made his body shake. Each stroke and twist caused his hips to jolt off the bed. Cupping his tightening balls, you bobbed your head further down this length. Bracing yourself against his thighs, you looked up at him with wide eyes and hollowed cheeks.

Another growl left his chest as his eyes caught yours. Tilting his head back, he exhaled darkly. Eyes closed behind the thick frames, he cursed in pleasure.

“F- Fuck,” Steve stammered as you hummed against him.

Your glasses pressed against your face as you buried yourself closer into his pelvis. Your cheeks brushed the inside of his thighs as you took him fully to the hilt. His saltiness on your tongue and his masculine scent clouded your senses, making your panties wetter.

Steve desperately tried to hold it together but having you before him, strong and glorious, left him unable to hold back much longer.

“Let me cum, please,” he begged.

You pulled him out with a pop. His dick bounced against his thick thighs and smeared wetness along his stomach. The sudden coolness caused goosebumps to fan across his skin.

“Please, sunshine.”

Rocking back on your heels, you watched him; goosebumps spreading, chest heaving, hips jolting, cock throbbing. You did this. You brought this incredible man into a pleading state of ecstasy and blind frenzy.

As your fingertips playfully ran along his length, you rose higher on your knees. You pulled him into a kiss with one hand and stroked his cock faster in your other, mixing the pressure with a tight fist and loose palm.

The taste of him was on your lips as you whispered encouragements, “Let go, handsome. I’ve got you.”

Steve shattered at your words, his fists painfully pressed into the mattress as his ass lifted off the bed from the pleasure. He spilled himself over your grip, tumbling past your knuckles as you milked him.

“Such a good boy,” you praised proudly.

Loosening your hold, you raised your stained hand to his glasses and smeared himself over his lenses, “It took me a while, Steve- but I see you now.”

#dark!steve x dark!reader #dark!reader #dark!steve x reader #prompt challenge #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x dark!reader #dark!marvel #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction

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atruedonaldist · 4 years ago

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ATD’s Mystery Skulls Future Analysis Post (SPOILERS INBOUND, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!)

Alright gang, here we go, welcome to my analysis of Mystery Skulls Future! I’ll be going over everything I noticed during the video that calls back to both previous videos and information found on MysteryBen27′s posts (about Mystery (the dog) and Shiromori! Another analysis of Arthur and Lewis’ side of the story along with Vivi and The Ancestor will come later.)

It’s highly possible that I may get things wrong, so please feel free to correct me or lend a voice if you spot anything!

Without further ado: let’s get this party started!

Alright first off: wanted to start off with Mystery because HOOO BOY. This doggo. This poor canine.

When Shiromori and Vivi start fighting, he watches in surprise--not lending a hand to either side.Instead, he watches them fight until Vivi gets cut.

That’s when Mystery gets off his laurels and throws Shiromori away (Team Rocket’s blasting off agaiiin!)

And here’s what I wanted to point out. Mystery decidedly did not get involved in their fight until one of them is about to, or gets hurt. Case in point, he didn’t transform until Vivi was nearly beheaded by Shiromori in the beginning, using his own blood as a lure.

After Shiromori blasts off again, he takes Vivi and they work together to defeat Shiromori--but where Vivi is firm and ready to take her life, Mystery looks sad.

He steps in Vivi’s way. Despite Shiromori wanting his blood, he doesn’t want her dead.

Vivi accepts this, but even as she walks away, she’s suspicious of Shiromori. Mystery just sends Shiromori a sad look... like he doesn’t want to leave her, but can’t stay either. Why?

Shiromori’s look is also interesting: she’s surprised, like she wasn’t expecting him to save her. She was surprised when during Hellbent she found him by Vivi’s side, seeing The Ancestor in her, but more on that later.

When Vivi and Mystery walk away, Shiromori is pissed. And she runs with her blade at Mystery again--only to be stopped by Vivi... and then Vivi gets hurt. For real. Not just a nick, this time.

And then Mystery loses it.

Oh would you look at that: Mystery now has eight tails.

Also note the green around his pupil and in his mouth for later, folks--also the bandaid where the blue light burst from.

And in his rage (also note the RAGE!), he attacks Shiromori... becoming injured.

And she’s crying. She drops her weapon, and she sheds a tear. Why?

Mystery tried to stop her, and showed her weakness--and Vivi took advantage.

But watch his reaction.

He’s horrified. More horrified than when Vivi got injured--he cares about Shiromori. And watch Shiromori’s actions too.

She reaches out for him--like she’s asking for help.

And she becomes what looks like (I forget the exact word for it, but they’re brought to life as soldier or such in japanese mythology. I’ll edit this post when I figure out what I’m thinking of, but just think of her as an animated figure like a golom.)

There’s the white light. Note the bandage, once again.

Oh, would you look at that: nine tails.

Oh boy. Generally from the little I’ve researched, Kitsune gain tails by how old they are and by how powerful they are. In Mystery’s case, I wouldn’t be surprised if he gains tails because of everything that he’s lost. I do remember reading somewhere that Kitsune can also gain tails by gaining wisdom, but I can’t find the source of that.

Now, I want to bring attention to the lights.

I think we can all agree that this is Mystery’s heart. Broken, battered, cracked and full of holes. If we take out the two lights we saw before, the blue and white, we have six lights... six tails. Add the original tail, and you’ve got seven during the beginning of Future.

In the original Mystery Skulls, we can see that Mystery had six tails.

But see this:

It’s a little hard to see, but you can count nine tails here. A flashback of The Ancestor that Shiromori sees when she first fights Vivi in Hellbent. Nine tails. We see the bandaids covering Mystery’s heart, exactly where two spots of light are. Important? I think so, but we’ll get back to that later.

I also recall seeing a gif of Mystery’s model where he has seven tails, a preview for either Freaking Out or Hellbent, but someone else will have to find that for me.

Now then: REMEMBER THE GREEN?

HOO BOY. MYSTERY. BUDDY. PAL. (also note: nine tails here as well!)

We also see Lewis and his deadbeatz covering their ears like it’s hurting them, and Arthur’s arm going haywire...

Now, this isn’t particularly hidden, but...

Pretty safe to assume that whatever possessed Arthur took advantage of his moment of a hurt heart. But we also know that it only possessed half of him... while for Mystery--

It took it all.

(also note the smile. Jesus, this thing likes smiling at despair.)

Just. Just. WhooOOOOO BOY.

His tails also reflect the colour of the lights... now, who wants to bet that the orange and the purple is Lewis and Arthur? Blue is Vivi of course, and the White being Shiromori.

Speaking of Shiromori, let’s rewind a bit back to Hellbent.

Here, we see Mystery looking at a flower. The forest around them is dead, devoid of life.

And then we see Mystery giving his blood to the flower...

And the forest, now in full bloom. Would you look at that: Nine tails. Wonder where those tails went, Mystery?

In the next scene in Hellbent, we also see The Ancesor and Mystery fighting... and Shiromori’s outrage when she sees him working beside Vivi. Somewhere along the way, either Mystery and The Ancestor became buds (evidence by the flashback with the Ancestor protecting Mystery) or The Ancestor chained Mystery somewhow. I’m putting my faith in the former, though.

And here’s what I wanted to bring to light.

It seems obvious that Shiromori was created by Mystery--or at least, nurtered to full bloom by him. And he cares for her too... but when she starts seeking out his blood actively, he’s forced to leave, to preserve his own life. Despite knowing how to kill her, he never does. Instead, he runs.

And remember how he looked when she was finally killed? And the way she reached out to him? It makes you think, doesn’t it? He didn’t want either of them (Vivi or Shiromori) to get hurt or killed. But they were at odds... and the bandaids holding together his heart finally broke.

How much of his actions were performed out of loneliness? He nurtered Shiromori, brought her to life... but in the end didn’t kill her, even though she wanted his blood. And even when she did slice him in Future, she cries. She cries for him, like she didn’t want it to come to this. Why?

Why did Mystery lose two of his tails? What are the other four lights, assuming that Arthur and Lewis are two of them? How did the fight between The Ancestor and Mystery end up with him accompanying Vivi?

There are so many questions and definitely not enough answers, and I don’t have the smarts to come up with theories for them all.

I hope this analysis helps some people, though! These were just a couple of things I noticed while watching about Shiromori and Mystery--Mystery especially because he’s been my favourite since day one, and I always wished he could get the limelight at some point... though not like this.

I also know I probably missed so many things about them, so if you catch any that I forgot or missed, please let me know! I hope you enjoyed reading!

EDIT: Wow, I thought I edited this but I guess it didn’t save. Thanks, tumblr.

Wanted to point out that I completely forgot to mention my previous thoughts about what Shiromori was--I believe she could be a jubokko.

According to folklore, it appears in former battlefields where many people have died, and its appearance does not differ that much from ordinary trees. Since it becomes a yōkai tree by sucking up large quantities of blood from the dead, it lives on human blood. When a human being happens to pass by, it supposedly captures the victim and, changing its branches into the shape of a tube, sucks the blood out of the victim. A Jubokko that sucks life out of human beings in such a way is said to always maintain a fresh appearance.

Of course she’d be feeding off of Mystery’s blood instead. This lends way to the theory that Shiromori wasn’t originally a creation of Mystery’s, but rather a creation of the graveyard of warriors that tried to attack Mystery in his forest safe haven, of sorts. Just a thought!

#Mystery Skulls Animated #MSA #Mystery Skulls Animated Spoilers #MSA Spoilers #Mystery Skulls Animated Future #MSA Future #Mystery Skulls Future #Mystery Skulls Animated Future Spoilers #MSA Future Spoilers #Mystery Skulls Future Spoilers #Vivi Yukino #Shiromori #Mystery #Mystery the Dog #text pist #ATD Analyzes #MSA Future Analysis

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heavenunderthemoon · 4 years ago

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Growing Pains {Chapter Four}

Warnings: None, I believe.

Prologue, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three

Nevada 1992

"I'm thoroughly spooked, can we go now?"

You rolled your eyes at the ten year old beside you. His whines had risen an octave over the last five minutes, the cause most probably being the increasing proximity to the house before the two of you, all of them had been ignored as you pedaled faster, hoping to reach the dilapidated structure before sunset.

The boy's scrawny arms looped around your waist, tightening to an almost suffocating degree every time you rode over a pothole and almost making you wheeze from discomfort. Spencer's bike was out for repair- 'out for repairs' was just a silly way of saying Spencer had all but begged your older brothers to take a look at the broken chain and then paid them $15 (probably too much, but he was desperate) to fix it. The bike was being looked at now, actually, but that still left the Reid boy without transportation. You had practically had to force him onto yours.

'I hate when you steer, you ride into every puddle you see and I didn't bring my rain boots-'

'Jesus, Sherlock, I'll go around them-'

'But, you don't have a helmet-'

'You can borrow my dad's-'

'Is your bike even registered?'

All of his questions had made you groan, almost pulling out your hair and all but shoving him onto your bike, taking up the front while he stood on the pedestals allocated for passengers in the back. Your bike wasn't anything flashy. In fact, it was a hand-me-down from your brothers, the seat sitting just a bit too high at the moment, though your dad claimed you would grow into it.

You pulled over, your worn tires coming to a halt in the over-grown grass, weeds poking up from every direction and basically engulfing the lawn before you.

"We just got here, Spencer, please, five minutes?" You shot a pleading look to the boy behind you, your father's helmet consuming the entirety of his head. His glasses, cracked from when Peter Thompson had socked him in the lunchroom the other week, slid down his nose and he pushed them back up as he hopped off the bike. His hands went to his shirt, wiping them across the material as he sighed. You liked when he did things like that, kid things.

"Fine, five minutes." He seceded, and you put the kickstand in place before hopping off the bike yourself, leading the way to the sagging building.

1497 Columbia Drive.

The house was practically a local hub for folklore. All ghost stories for the children in your community originated from this house in particular. Your dad said it was all hocus pocus, nothing of substance. It was probably just a bunch of kids trying to get a good laugh out of scaring the little kids, he even lectured you on the history of the house, no murders or strange incidents ever occurring on the property. But still, you had asked Spencer to come with you to check it out.

Your feet crunched the gravel beneath it, poking around the house here and there.

"What do you think you're going to find, Y/N? A ghost hiding under the rock?" His tone was condescending, as it was sometimes. Though, that was something he didn't quite know he was doing. You knew that. You knew that if he knew that he came across like that, like he thought less of you, he would never do that. His attitude was a little bit worse today than usual. His mother wasn't doing too well, her rants becoming longer, her paranoia keeping the boy from hanging out with you on most days. You had taken to climbing into his window to hang out, or sneaking him out when you could. But the tone still stung a bit. "This is stupid." He continued.

A small sigh escaped your lips as you kicked at a rock, shoving your hands into your pockets. "How come everything I want to do is stupid?" It was petty. Petty, and emotional, and a million other things you never were because you liked to keep things in, but your insecurities began pouring out of you like a broken spout. "Why are you even friends with me? I'm too dumb for you, you have to explain things to me a million different times and even then, sometimes I still don't get it. You're gonna go away someday, because you're smart and you're better than...than here. Than this. So, why do you even hang out with me?" The words fell sloppily from your lips, only angering you further because you knew how eloquently Spencer would've been able to express his thoughts.

And this was something that had bothered you for a while. Since you had met him, actually. Because you were different. Spencer Reid was different. And while everyone else in town thought that him being different was a bad thing, you saw it as something good. Good, because he was going to be something. He was going to be something big, something bigger than anything you could ever be, whatever he wanted, whatever he wished for, because he could. Because he was Spencer. And you were just...you. You didn't skip grades or read books super fast or have a photographic memory. You weren't a genius, your brain didn't move a million miles per minute, and how boring it must be for Spencer to have to hang out with you.

Your eyes stung with tears, quickly welling and spilling hotly down your reddened cheeks and you were grateful that your back was still to the boy because he had never seen you cry, not even when you broke your index finger playing baseball two years ago, and you weren't entirely sure that Spencer would know how to comfort you if he saw you crying.

But, he did know. He didn't say anything to acknowledge it aloud, probably because he feared you might turn around and deck him right then and there if he did, but he noticed. He saw the way your shoulders had tightened as you spoke and then began shaking lightly when you finished. He noticed the tremor in your voice, the small sniffles escaping your figure. He noticed your clenching fist, your nails digging into your palm, and the stiffness in your body, as if pleading with yourself to stop. He had never seen you cry. Come to think of it, he had never seen you sad. And it was then that he realized that he had never seen you sad because you tended to turn that sadness into anger. You turned your tears into insults and your wounds into punches because it was easier that way. He realized that you weren't as invincible as he thought. You weren't some fearless, perpetually angry girl who finished every fight she started. You were human, you were vulnerable. And this revelation made him feel better, as much as he hated to say it. Because he had always felt incredibly inferior to you. He felt inferior when he saw you speaking to your other friends at the park or the library. He felt inferior when he saw your family, two brothers and a father (all of which seemed to speak in grunts and were constantly shoving food into their mouths whenever Spencer saw them). No matter how cave-man-like your family was, they were there. They were present. They weren't grabbing your shoulders, screaming about aliens, or the government, or tiny microscopic societies that he couldn't see- something Diana did often. He felt inferior when you stood up for yourself, or for him, when you weren't afraid to tell people to shut up, or ask for help, which was something he could never quite bring himself to do.

And this, these tears, these insecurities, brought you down to his level, gave you a fall from grace that was just enough to make him brave, even if it was for a split second, to grab your shoulder, and pull you into his embrace. His hug was bony. He smelled like cheap laundry detergent, lemon shampoo, and a bit of sweat. He had begun growing, just the tiniest bit, that year and it was enough to put you both at the same height. Two ten year olds standing in front of that allegedly haunted house, a scrawny little boy with a brain far too big for his own good and a girl who had been previously crying but was now just standing there, stunned, unsure of what to do in Spencer's embrace.

"What are you doing?" And for once you weren't loud. You weren't loud, or obnoxious, or confident. Your voice was tiny, small, and confused, because Spencer didn't like touching, and neither did you, really. You didn't hug each other. You gave each other high-fives, or fist bumps, or small nudges to the other in greetings or farewells, but never hugs.

Spencer didn't move, keeping his stance the same, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, his cheek to your shoulder. "Why am I your friend? Why are you mine? Everyone in town thinks I'm weird, and they tease you just for being my friend. Why put up with that? Why be friends with the kid who has to make multiple trips to the library each week and gets upset when he has to return them? Why be friends with the kid who can't even act like a kid. I get along better with adults, and those are the ones who don't talk about me behind my back. Why are you friends with me? Because I'll tell you why I'm friends with you. Because you ask me to explain things to you a million times, because you care so much about what I'm saying that you want to understand it too, even if its boring or complicated. You listen when I talk about nerdy things, and you ask my mom how she's doing- you aren't afraid of her like every other kid in your grade."

Your tears had stopped now, and you weren't entirely sure if it was due to the shock of Spencer hugging you or the shock of Spencer practically yelling as he let go of you, grabbing you by the shoulders and looking you in the eye.

"You're my best friend, and I'm sorry I said this was stupid. I would much rather do a million stupid things with you than be a genius alone."

He was a little breathless at the end of it, eyes still glued onto your face for some kind of sign that you weren't still sad, or angry. But it was blank, and suddenly his mind was rewinding through everything he said. Did he say something wrong? And just as he was going to apologize profusely for hugging you, you were pulling him into your own embrace. You were strong, his body hitting yours with a thud. You smelled like mechanical oil, probably from your dad's garage, and a hint of vanilla. Your hair, collected into a pony tail, though baby hairs clung to your forehead in a pool of sweat, brushed his nose and tickled his nostrils. You squeezed him when you hugged him and he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you in reassurance. He had never had a friend apart from you, never had a person to tell about his day, about his dreams, about the weird thing he read that day. He had you, and he didn't now what life would be like without you, but the thought scared him. It terrified him to think about a future without you in it, and so he clung to you tighter.

"Let's go home. Nothin' special about this house, anyways." You pulled away, elbowing him lightly in the ribs, the tiniest of smiles on your face and he beamed, because he did that. He made you smile.

"Eh, I thought it was pretty cool." Spencer said with a shrug, walking back to the bike.

QUANTICO, January 2012

The plane ride back from the case was bumpy, turbulence instantly shaking the large aircraft, causing it to be physically impossible for the team to sleep on the way home- well, unless you were Rossi. You could swear that David Rossi could sleep through just about everything. After grabbing his usual drink from the jet bar, the old man had chosen his usual window seat, only a couple rows back from where you sat with JJ, Derek, and Emily, snoring peacefully within twenty minutes.

You groaned in envy, tilting your head back to rest on the cushion as you did so. The blonde to your left chuckled at your dramatics, having gotten used to your behavior by now, Derek and Emily in tow. The three were the trio you had found yourself most acquainted with on the team, well, them and Penelope. You had a soft spot in your heart for the quirky technical analyst, the woman all but forcing herself into your life by digging through your personal files and inviting herself over for breakfast before long cases. How strange it had been to open the door to your apartment and find Penelope and Derek on the other side.

"Good morning!"

Your hair was sticking up in about twenty different directions, something the two agents found rather astounding, but chose not to comment on. At the office you were...put-together, to say the least. You were professional, a military woman through and through. You showed up to work early, your paperwork was always done, your shirts were always ironed, your laces were always tied. Penelope would argue that she never saw you blink- something that had made Derek laugh and JJ roll her eyes at, but Emily secretly agreed, because, man, did you?

At this point you had only been working for the BAU for a week or so, and still, they knew nothing about you. And so, here she was, gift-basket in hand while Derek carried along three steaming hot lattes that you could smell even from this distance.

Your eyebrows knitted together, head tilting in a manner that was scarily akin to their boy wonder- another thing they chose not to comment on. After that first day, the introduction between the two that had gone very strangely and the obvious avoidance on both of their parts, the team had chosen to skirt around the Reid boy and the Y/L/N girl. Things like that had a way of working themselves out. Besides, it hadn't affected their work and so personal matters were to remain...well, personal.

"Uh, good morning?" You stepped aside, allowing the two agents to enter your apartment. It was a one-bedroom, close to work so the commute wasn't too bad, and extremely empty. Penelope could've guessed it would be that way before entering. Your desk was the same way, only a picture of what she assumed was your dad and your brothers and you in your uniform to adorn your small space. Furniture, a lonely sofa, beige and boring, and a coffee table severely lacking anything other than a newspaper that Derek could see was three days old. The crossword section was flipped open, only three words filled out. Strewn across the floor were boxes, emptied out, mostly, but the few that remained full were labeled 'BOOKS' and 'SUMMER ClOTHES". The latter gave the two agents a headache, the very action of attempting to envision you in anything other than your usual jeans, leather jacket, and boots too difficult for their brains to process.

Your apartment was pristine, another thing that was predictable. It smelled of coffee, and as the three agents ventured further into the apartment, it was apparent as to the source of the smell; a half-empty pot sitting on the marble countertops.

"I'm sorry there isn't breakfast, if I would've known you were coming over I would've made...cereal."

Derek's eyebrows scrunched at the food choice and you let out an awkward chuckle.

"I can't cook. I'm horrible, like, burn down the house horrible." Your hand grabbed the coffee he was extending, giving a grateful nod as you looked to Penelope.

"Sorry for the short notice-"

"No notice, actually." You corrected with a smirk, eyes looking over the rim of the coffee lid as you took a sip.

"Right- no notice. I just, I figured if I gave you notice it would give you a chance to say no, and that's fine! if you want us to leave or anything we can, but we really need more women in the office and you seem like some badass, aviator wearing, leather jacket having, military chick and I really feel like we cold be good friends! I always text back, and I, for one, am I a good cook, so I can help you with that...oh, and I am amazing at remembering birthdays! I brought a gift basket too! I wasn't sure if you liked chocolate, or cheese, or fruit, this has all three-"

"Give her a second, babygirl." The Morgan shook his head, throwing a look to you. It was kind, an understanding look that meant he understood just how overwhelming his blonde counterpart could be but but also pleaded for understanding. Understanding of how Penelope was, of how good of a friend she could be.

But he didn't need to do that.

He didn't need to ask you to understand, or to be patient, or to give someone a chance He didn't need to because she reminded you all too much of a scrawny little kid with his nose in a book, a mouth far too smart for his own good, and a lack of any defense system.

The paper cup landed onto the countertop gently as you placed it down, arms crossing over themselves. Your arms were a bit chilled, nothing but a t-shirt and boxer shorts worn to bed, and a lazy smile quirked at the corner of your lips at the strange, kind, lovely blonde before you.

"I like cheese and chocolate and fruit." Penelope visibly relaxed at the comment. "Stay, I'm in need of some good friends."

"I'm tired." You mumbled grumpily, chin coming to rest on your hand.

JJ snorted, digging further into the small bag of chips she had managed to snag from the vending machine at the airport before the jet had taken off. "You could sleep."

With a click of your tongue, you smiled sarcastically, nodding your head. "Good idea, I didn't think about that." As another snore reached your ears, you tossed a glare back to the sleeping Rossi, rolling your eyes. "Jesus, does he have to rub it in?" You snapped.

Emily tucked a curl behind her ear, cracking a grin. "You can sleep when you get home, the flight's only three hours out."

"No, because when I get home I have to shower first, the plane makes me feel gross." Your shoulders gave way to a shiver that made Derek laugh. "Should I sleep or should I shower? I could sleep in the shower- but I'm also hungry."

A light tap on your forearm alerted you to the chip bag being shoved onto you, an offering by the Jareau woman. Perhaps if you hadn't known her for as long as you had- which, admittedly still wasn't that long, but you digressed- you would have taken one. Yes, JJ was offering, but JJ and her chips was not a love you came between and if you took one now she would tell you that you owed her a chip bag when you next passed a vending machine and the woman, small and kind as she was, was not as forgiving when it came to being owed chips.

With a tired wave of your hand you stood, stretching your arms for a moment, fingertips grazing the jet ceiling, before turning on your heel. "I'm gonna go find some peanuts or something."

You made your way to the back of the jet, toward the coffee machine station and bar set up. Cabinets above and below the both of them had you suspecting that there was a secret stash of peanuts- or, perhaps, a five-course meal that no one else knew about. Day-dreaming of a roasted turkey and baked Mac and cheese you hardly noticed a person exit the bathroom as you searched the cabinets. At the exact moment they had, the jet hit a spot of turbulence.

Your body, too tired to react quickly enough, lurched backward, directly into the body behind you.

Spencer yelped quietly, reacting on instinct and grabbing your body. The momentum of your body in addition to the swing of the jet had him stumbling into the wall, his hands securely around your waist, body pressed tightly against yours.

His touch wasn't foreign, perhaps that was why you stilled the way you did. As if you were frozen in an instant, neither of you moved as the plane shook for a moment, righting itself almost immediately and leaving the two of you staring, eyes entranced in one another.

For you, it was his touch. His touch that made you still, his touch that made you forget the search for food, the whines of exhaustion, the impatience to go home. His touch, one you knew quite well as a child, one you associated with friendship, childhood, and safety. One you associated with trust, and companionship. One that was returned to you in an instant, a feeling that you forgot after all these years- no, not forgot. You hadn't forgotten his touch, or, at least, your body hadn't. No, your body remembered Spencer Reid quite well. Your body remembered climbing into Spencer Reid's window, your hands calloused and hardened from the long climb to the top of the tree beside it. Your body remembered biking around town with him, thighs and calves burning as you pushed yourself harder, the amount of books he had loaded onto your bike because his couldn't fit all of them on his own weighing you down. Your body remembered bloodied knuckles, busted lips, or black eyes, all of them your victory trophies because you were hotheaded, impulsive, and protective when the other children had something to say about him.

And he stilled because of your scent. As strange as it sounded, it hadn't changed after all these years. Unlike you, his mind hadn't tricked him into forgetting it. He didn't think it was possible for him to ever forget it. Mechanical oil and a hint of vanilla. It enveloped him like a warm blanket, a large tidal wave of the familiar scent hanging in the air, threatening to overtake him until the wave broke and it pulled him under with it. The scent consumed him, filling his nostrils, overtaking his senses and for a moment it was too much. It was too much for his brain to process because one moment he was walking out of the bathroom and the next you were in his arms and he was catching you.

You didn't know what to say. What was there to say? You missed him. You saw him at work everyday, you passed by him when you dropped off paperwork to Hotchner, you nodded at him in passing, and you stumbled into him when the jet hit an air pocket. How could you miss him if you did all of that, every single day?

But Spencer Reid was a person to be missed. Spencer Reid was a person you thought about. You thought about him every day, every hour, every minute, because how could you not? How could you just pretend you didn't know him? The boy who read you Sherlock Holmes on hot summer days, or slow danced with you in your father's basement? The boy who gave you pinky promises and made wishes on stars, and taught you the constellations. A boy you had known was extraordinary from the beginning and had turned out to be just that? A boy who was no longer a boy anymore, because the world didn't take well to boys with exceptional minds and sick mothers, the world turned boys like that into men, men who were different, even if just a little bit. That little bit was enough to let all the fears flood back in, the fears of the ordinary, the fears of not being enough. The fears that were solidified in your not-so-welcome welcoming.

The memory coursed through your veins, activating them as if it had been a shot of adrenaline.

Clearing your throat, you moved, standing up properly, pushing yourself out of his embrace and crossing your arms. "Thanks. Turbulence caught me off guard there."

For a moment he had you, just you and him and then you had turned to sand in his hands and once again he was losing you. Your expression had hardened. In another lifetime he had been the one to soften you, a person who had been able to break down those walls you worked so hard to build, but now he was the one locked out.

"What we really need to worry about are microbursts - a sudden downburst of air associated with thunderstorms - but small craft like this one, if we hit one of those at the wrong altitude..." He was rambling at this moment, rambling so badly he wished he could stop but he couldn't. His hands mimicked an explosion, his voice coming out much smaller, more reluctant. "Get pulverized."

Spencer Reid didn't like being vulnerable. And that's what he was around you, vulnerable. And being vulnerable did things to him, made him say things and do things that make him embarrassed, or ashamed, or even feel guilty. Just as he started to simultaneously feel all three of these things, you did something he hadn't quite expected.

You laughed.

"Jeez, Sherlock, ever so morbid, aren't you?" It was a soft chuckle, a tiny little snort, short-lived and gone in an instant, but it was enough to make Spencer grin.

His lips parted to respond. What he was going to say, he didn't know- something, anything- but, he never got to find out.

The pilot bell dinged over the speaker system.

"Passengers, this is your Pilot speaking. There are rough windstorms ahead, I'm receiving advisement to land immediately, please buckle your seatbelts, this will be a rough landing."

TAGLIST: @fangurl215 @lauren2408 @moonstarrnghtsky @uwu-sebastianstan @criminalminds4days @tclaerh

Message me to be added to the taglist! Hope you enjoy:) xx Toby

#spencer reid x reader #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds #growing pains

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prinxlyart · 4 years ago

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God bless ya for providing your perfect takes on Willumity! If anyone hasn't beaten me to it, I would like to ask your headcanon on how their relationship would start, and how do you think thwir children would be! Oh, and on another ship, how you think Boschlow would unfold?

My heart is too full for this, I need to dump it all out into this post

Hmmm, their relationship could start any number of ways. I don’t have a favorite that I can pull from my imagination. My sad angsty polyamorous heart wants there to be a lot of sad tension between all of them (Willow is upset because she can clearly see that Luz and Amity like each other, why would either of them pay attention to her?? // Amity is upset because Luz was able to befriend Willow so easily and so quickly and they were immediately affectionate with one another on the first day they met. They deserve to be happy together without Amity ruining it or having her overbearing last name hanging over them. // Luz is upset because she’s helped Willow and Amity rekindle their broken friendship and watched it blossom into potentially something more?? She’s so scared she’s going to be left behind again. She’s had friends in the past that ditched her once they became closer to one another. Luz is downright terrified that it’s going to happen again. ) [projecting?????? Whose projecting I’m not projecting]

I feel like if anything, the dam would break what with all these unresolved romantic feelings bearing down on them all. I don’t know who would break first, but whoever she broke in front of would let her know she needs to speak to the other two about it ASAP. Because if worse comes to worst, they’ll gently reject you and insist you all remain friends. None of them would break off their friendships with one another due to unreciprocated feelings.

Once they do sit down and confess their feelings for one another they all just. Start crying in utter relief. They don’t have to lose anyone, and even better, they like me back.

RE: Kids? I have no idea. I’ve never been one for fan kids much, I usually leave that to others and appreciate it when someone makes one I actually like. I think the only thoughts I’d have on them having kids would be that these three would be the Most Supportive Parents in the world with an even more supportive network of grandparents. Like. Any kids they have will be adored so much they might accidentally smother the poor thing(s).

I feel like Luz and Willow would insist they have more than one kid (if they do decide to have kids). Neither of them have siblings and grew up rather lonely as a result. They don’t want that for any kids they might raise. Amity is only a little reluctant to agree because she grew up with Edric and Emira, but ultimately agrees with her wives that that would be best.

Oh, and family gatherings at holidays would be so fucking chaotic oh my god. They either need to enlist the help of someone in the construction coven to expand a portion of their house or consider renting out a public space if they all say they’re going to come because there’s just so many people. Absolute Chaos. Luz adores the family gatherings because she always wanted to be part of a big family and now she is.

They tend to stress Amity out only because of the amount of planning and cooking to be done, but ultimately ends up enjoying herself (it’s still weird to see her parents attend these gatherings and playing with her children and wait- did dad just sneak her some of the dessert?!?! UGH, she’ll be awake for hours thanks dad).

Willow also loves the family gatherings but gets easily overwhelmed by the amount of people in attendance. She’s the one that would go one by one with everyone that came and just spend some time with them, catching up until the conversation naturally flows to the next person. She has now idea how Luz can ping pong off the walls with the energy she does, but she’s always admired that about Luz. It also tickles her heart and makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside whenever Luz’s pinballing ends up aimed at her because Luz will always put both hands on Willow’s shoulders, give her a kiss on the cheek and check in with her. Once they’ve confirmed they’re both doing okay, Luz will kiss her cheek again and kinda nuzzle their heads together before she’s off to talk with someone else. Luz does the same thing with Amity and even still after all these years, it reduces Amity to a blushing mess. Anyone around that witnesses it either coos at how cute they are or gags at the display of affection (take your pick at who lol).

You can’t just ask me to switch gears right in the middle of domestic fluff and just rewind way back to potential Boschlow stuff oh man. Let’s see....I personally am a huge proponent of Boscha getting her act together, not related to her feelings for anyone, before she tries to pursue Willow. Whether or not Willow is part of the process of her changing for the better can be up to you. But Boscha has a lot of stuff she needs to sort out before I let her anywhere near my plant daughter Willow.

I actually follow a couple fics dedicated to exactly that. Jackal’s Ladder was REALLY good and has finished! Idk if the author is going to continue it as a series but I’ve got my fingers crossed 🤞. The New Normal is another favorite of mine. It really looks into what bothers Boscha and makes her the bully she is, tears it all down, and makes her build herself back up. And she’s not doing it to please anyone. She’s just doing it for herself. (But then there’s tiny hints of Boschlow on the horizon that I’m super eager for).

All in all, I think Boscha is an interesting character and could have a great relationship with Willow; she just needs to get her shit together first. Idk how it would happen tbqh, but maybe Willow sees how hard Boscha is trying at being a better person? Maybe she sees Boscha doing something genuinely kind to someone else like helping an elderly witch at the market? Idk, something soft like Amity reading to kids that proves that she’s actually doing this “being better” thing for herself and not for an audience that she’s trying to fool. I think at that point Willow genuinely believes Boscha is trying and is encouraging her in her efforts, even going as far as extending an olive branch so they can try being friends. Willow’s curious about the person Boscha is when she’s not a bully. And now that she knows for certain that she’s not lying or doing this for some kind of cookie points, she’s willing to put in the effort.

I think it’d be very fun to watch Willow realize Boscha has a crush on her and then use that to flirt with her mercilessly. Because she does kinda sorta reciprocate those feelings?? But she’s still not certain of them yet. And it’s so much fun to watch Boscha turn the same color as her hair. So until she sorts out those feelings, she’s just gonna flirt relentlessly with her until something changes.

#prinxly inquiries #wam-hope #the owl house #willumity #boschlow #hot diggety this turned into another long one

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sup-hoes-its-me · 4 years ago

Text

Amnesia (Levi x Reader)

A/N: so my boyfriend and i just watched attack on titan again in prep for season 4 in a few months. We both fell in love with levi all over again so i had to write a little story for our little captain. Definitely angst, and probably ooc bc levi is not the romantic type. enjoy.

word count: 5530

Although he appeared stoic, fearless and unattached in almost all ways, Levi Ackerman had a heart burdened with layers of scalding emotion constantly burning painful holes in his heart. The loss of a childhood to violence, found-family killed in front of his eyes, comrades falling victim to this unfair world over and over again. He was a hardened man drowning in regret.

Yet, he could never find himself regretting Y/N. She was a woman of talent and skill, grace flowing through her every movement, despite being a skilled soldier. Her voice, when he first heard it, the words she summoned from deep in mind; he found himself hanging on her every word, watching her every step. He often found himself wondering if she would make a mistake and let down some sort of facade, yet she never broke character.

To some, she could be seen as ignorant, perhaps too trusting or even a bit self-righteous. She was far from perfect, but to him, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t find a flaw in what he saw. It seemed that he would do anything for her, even when no one knew why.

And as he lay in his cold bed alone at night, rewinds of old memories played time and time again, each and every night. They ruined his life just a little more each time, driving him near mad.

This night was no different.

_________________________________________

“Y/N-san, oh my god. Wake up, shit,” Reiner begged the woman who he held in his arms. One second his squad leader was flying through the trees, slicing the neck of a 13 meter, the next she was tossed into a tree, rolling through the branches to the hard ground with a thud, blood seeping into the grass from her head.

Sasha noticed Reiner hunched over a body on the ground, not having seen her leader fall victim to a titan. Her eyes widened at the blood and quickly went to his side. She nearly passed out at the sight of the woman she grew to know as a family. Reiner was frantic, pressing against the back of her head with her cloak, trying to stop the bleeding.

Tears gathered in Sasha’s eyes, despite having seen death before. “She has to be okay.” The young girl whispered, choking back sobs in her throat. She said it mostly to comfort herself, witnessing deaths time and time before just like this one. Hope just seemed so useless nowadays, just mourning.

He held his hand over her nose and felt soft breaths of air. Relief flooded through him for just a moment as he gathered her close to him. Her crumbling body was limp, and he felt her arm move in an awkward way, definitely broken. He made sure to support that arm, placing it across her stomach.

“She’s dying, we have to get her to the medics, fuck,” Reiner cried, lifting her delicate body carefully in his strong arms. He hugged her head to his chest, and as he did so, it seemed like pints of blood seeped into his clothes and stuck to his skin. He shot off into the air, but Sasha couldn’t move from where she knelt, body almost limp.

What if she died? What would they do then? Sasha was pretty sure Y/N was the only reason Levi maintained his temper at times. She was the person Hanji ran to tell about her experiments and the commander's only surviving childhood friend in the corps. Sure, Sasha would be hurt losing a leader she grew to trust, but what about the veteran soldiers. It had been years and years since they met, and they got attached. That’s what happens when everyone else dies and it seems like you just have one another to latch onto.

Dread filled her heart as they returned to the carts and gave Y/N over to one of the medics, who pressed something to her head and popped in one of her dislocated limbs. He was so casual, she thought. Anyone would turn that way working with dozens of injured soldiers every mission. The casualty of it all made it all the more depressing, even disturbing.

“Will-will she be okay?”

“Hell if I know,” the boy confessed. “But we all better hope so.” Even though he failed to explain, both the cadets knew why.

Soldiers began pouring out of the forest on their gear or horses. Some carried the dead, while some carried pride for what they had done. No one paid mind to that particular medic cart. The medic opened her eyes and observed her condition, but that only made Sasha’s heart sink further. She was unresponsive to touch, just a limp body, nearly dead.

Heads turned at the distinct sound of blades falling to the ground. Levi landed beside the cart after seeing the mop of h/c hair lying in the cart. His eyes flashed to Reiner and Sasha for a moment, seeing the blood soaked clothes and tear-stained cheeks.

For the first time in years, Levi felt his blood run cold in his veins and his heart to stop beating in his chest. Pain stabbed him in the stomach, feelings of throwing up his breakfast arose. He opened his mouth to say something, but his words got caught in his throat. He gasped for air before muttering hopelessly, maybe to himself or the cadets or even the woman herself lying half dead in the carriage.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Captain-”

His voice was weak, full of pain and fear. “Shut up.” No malintent, just a desperate need for silence among the horses trotting along and soldiers rejoicing the fact they made it out alive. He walked over to the cart and climbed in, his normally firm and strong hands shakily hovering over the woman’s cheeks, gently wiping the blood from her lips and eyes.

For the first time, the cadets witnessed complete and utter fear and helplessness overtake their captain, the emotions of a broken man leaking past his wall of bravery.

In that moment, Sasha realized that Y/N wasn’t hers to grieve.

“Y/N, please…” he whimpered, running his fingers down her wet, bloody hair. ‘“M-my princess, please. I need you, please.”

“Captain, she’s not dead. We just need to get her back to the wall and-”

“Will she live?”

“I’d stake my life on it, Captain Levi. Don’t you worry,” the medic, one who had only really heard of Levi by mouth, lied through his teeth. He was just a trainee. He had no idea what would happen to this woman, but one thing he did know was that in times of need people need comfort, and sometimes white lies can ease the pain.

_________________________________________

Levi and Erwin stood outside the doctor’s office as Y/N sat inside being tended to by a nurse. The doctor shut the door quietly, and joined the two men in the hall. His eyes were solemn and regretful, not wanting to look up at the two incredibly powerful military forces before him.

“Why was she acting like that? I thought you said she would be healed by now,” Levi grunted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The blow to her head severely damaged her limbic system. I’m truly sorry to tell you, but she’s suffering from retrograde amnesia.”

Levi bit back an indecent curse, as Erwin spoke. “So, she can’t remember anything?”

“She still can function normally, but her memories are gone.”

“Everything?” Levi asked shortly, trying to stay calm. He hadn’t expected this after they’d heard of her waking from her coma. He thought that one month without her was long enough, but now it seemed the situation was much, much worse than any of them anticipated.

“Unfortunately. She does remember a vague sense of the titans and the walls though.”

“What about people? Friends? Family?” Levi anxiously questioned, almost pleading with the doctor to say that she remembered him. Erwin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and sighed. The doctor shook his head, and it only buried Levi deeper in his misery. How could she forget everything?

How was it right that she could forget the years they spent together but he had to live with the memories, all the emotions unreciprocated? It was cruel for fate to do this to him.

Erwin asked finally, “Is there any chance of her regaining her memories?”

“Perhaps. Amnesia, anything involving the brain really, is a tricky matter. My guess is not likely, but there is always a chance.” He sighed and pushed up his glasses. “Would either of you like to sit and talk with her? Being around familiar things can boost memory in patients.”

They walked into the room calmly, and the woman peered up at them, a small smile gracing her lips. Levi felt his heart jump to his throat, and he had to swallow down his feelings. She was rightfully so the most beautiful human being to ever walk within the walls. Her smile, seeing it for the first time in so long, it made him so happy. If only this was a happy scene, though.

"Ah! Finally some visitors. All I've seen is nurses and doctors for the past what? Five hours?"

“”Hello, miss Y/N. I am Erwin Smith, the commander of the Survey Corps as well as your long time friend.”

“Really? How did I manage to be friends with someone so distinguished?” she laughed, but in all seriousness, she didn’t know. “They told me I was a great soldier, is that true? If anyone would know, it’d be you.”

“Great soldier, but might I say, greater friend.”

Her cheeks turned just the slightest bit of pink at the compliment. She smiled at her blankets. “Thanks. Hopefully I get to meet more of my old friends soon. Seems to me like I was quite popular.” Erwin nodded, moving to sit down in the chair beside her bed, revealing Levi behind him. The man was quiet, his eyes dancing around the room without meeting her gaze. “I’m guessing you’re a friend too-”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Levi-” Erwin started, but Y/n cut him off.

“They told me about you, Levi! Humanity’s strongest soldier, even better than me,” she laughed, sending him a playful wink. He winced at the sight of her smiling at him, her cheeks just a bit red from happiness. When she winked, he thought he might drop dead right there. Her beautiful eyes, the sparkle that they always held; he wanted them to be his again. “The nurse said you would visit me every morning and night while I was in the coma.”

“Yeah. Do...do you remember anything else about me?”

“Not right now, but the doc says I can get them back at any time.” Always so positive. If only he could think like that too.

The shorter man took a seat at the edge of her bed, staring down at the ring around his finger, twisting it back and forth. The gold was dull by now, he hadn’t polished it in a few months. Her eyes caught sight of the ring and she held back her questions about it.

“So, your name is Levi…”

“Ackerman.”

“Hmm, I see. And we were good friends?”

“Partners.”

She raised a brow, turning her head to Erwin, who nodded to assure she was assuming the right thing. He was certainly a handsome man, but she couldn’t see how someone so bubbly as her could be with someone so serious and quiet. He didn’t even want to make eye contact with her.

Y/N leaned over the edge of the bed to grab a small drawstring bag. “The doctor put all my belongings in this bag. Let me just..” Her swift fingers rummaged around for a few seconds before they enclosed a small, smooth piece of metal. “I’m guessing this is from you, huh?” she asked, pulling the sparkly ring from the bag.

They had her look through her bag earlier to see if it would spark any memories, to no avail. Yet, she remained curious about the ring.

“It’s very beautiful, thank you for giving it to me. Do you want it back while I’m-”

“No. Please,” he paused, taking a deep breath. He found himself pleading a lot more than usual these days. It was just sad. “Can you just wear it?”

She slipped the ring on her finger without hesitation. “Of course. I’m sure I loved you very much before the accident, Levi.”

Loved. That’s right. She didn’t love him anymore. She didn’t even know him.

“Were we married?”

“Practically, but there’s no time for a wedding with our work schedules.”

“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you again. Hopefully we can become close again soon.”

He frowned, nodding towards the ground. How could fate be this cruel to him? He stood up from the bed and left the room before anyone could stop him. This whole thing, seeing her, it was too much for him. He didn’t want to see her the way she was, and it broke his heart.

That day marked the single worst moment for Levi, above all else. Losing the love of his life.

___________________________________________

Five months later, and a lot of shit happened. But of course, Y/N still couldn't remember anything. He couldn’t do a thing but sit around bitterly, knowing that his lover was lost to him. Others tried to tell him to build their relationship again, but what was the point in that? Their love was built on circumstance: on the wall breaking, on the missions they protected each other, on the nights they spent talking about everything and nothing by the stables.They could never get that back, the same love she once had for him was gone.

He spoke to her, but he didn’t go out of his way to find her, to speak to her. He would rather keep to himself, and if that made him come across as harsh and cruel, then so be it.

He still felt the urge to protect her, the need to maintain what they once had, how he felt for her. He still protected her as if his life depended on it, and he would walk to the ends of the Earth before he saw her die. Yet, he couldn’t be sociable and comfortable like before.

That morning he woke up as usual, got dressed, went about his day, headed to the dining hall for dinner, and ate in silence if not for curses under his breath as he watched the love of his life talk it up with Erwin and Hanji, laughing and smiling as if he wasn’t right there. He knew Hanji could sense his eyes trailing to them with every sip of his tea, and she sent him a sympathetic look.

The woman felt for her friend and comrade. For 6 years, she witnessed the pair fall in love despite trauma and differences they had. She was there countless times to see Levi lay his life on the line for her, and Y/N do the same for him. There was a change in Levi from the moment those two became friends to the very last day they had together. It made her sad. Love didn’t feel real without these two being there for each other.

Erwin wasn’t as adept, but he saw the pain in humanity’s greatest soldier. He loved Y/N, having known her since they attended training together. He was amazed she lived this long as well, having lost so many soldiers and friends along the way. She was different now. Lost in her own mind half the time, and unreliable on missions.

But they had to keep waiting. Doctors, the best the walls had to offer, told them the chance of her memories coming back to her were close to zero, but not quite. If there was even a chance their friend would remember them some day, it wasn’t worth abandoning hope.

“Y/N, I totally forgot to tell you. You and Levi need to go check the horses. I think I left the stable door open, I’m not sure, haha,” Hanji rushed to say, wiggling her brows at Levi. She pushed Y/N out of her seat and stacked her plates for her to take to the dishwashers. “Sorry, but it’s just got to be checked.”

“Why does Levi have to-”

“Because you shouldn’t go out at night alone, obviously,” she explained, but stupidly. A soldier couldn’t go out on their own base alone. Y/N nodded obediently, but she really didn’t want to go, especially with him. She twisted the ring on her finger absentmindedly as her friend rushed her to exit the dining hall. Levi followed, but not without sending a twisted glare at the squad leader.

Y/N kept ahead of him, walking briskly as to get the job done quickly. Levi already knew she wasn’t happy going with him and that she generally disliked him.

It wasn’t until they got to the stables and saw that the gates were in fact closed, locked up, and all the horses were as they should be.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? She sent us out here for what? Her own amusement?” Y/N said, her voice raising just a bit. She was angry, just enough to put a lump in Levi’s stomach. Before the accident, she never got angry with him, or anyone else. She was just happy to contribute to the cause and help anyone she could, even if the task was as trivial as checking the stables. Y/N would have been happy to take a walk outside at night with Levi.

In fact, they stood in the same spot they would hang out at night under the stars time and time again. He stared at her now, and wished to god that he could go back in time to when she would cuddle and kiss him under the moon and the stars here. He wanted her to tell him silly stories about her day, and then lean over and pepper kisses to his neck and his cheeks and his nose and call him her baby.

But instead, she hated him for everything he was worth.

“Y/N, Hanji didn’t-”

“Oh, would you just shut up?” she rolled her eyes over to him, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re literally my only problem right now, You, my supposed lover. Everyone tells me stories about how you loved me, how we fell in love even, yet you treat me like absolute horse shit.”

“Would you just-”

“Would I just what? Continue to pretend you’re not an absolute asshole? You ignore me, you avoid me, you tell people that you miss me, yet you won’t even bother to make an effort? How can someone who loved me so much act this way?” the woman yelled furiously, glaring at him. The sparkle in her eyes vanished the longer she spoke, the longer she was with him.

He grit his teeth for a second trying to keep himself under control, but he couldn’t stand it anymore. “You are the one that’s ruined my life, don’t even try to act like your life is so hard.”

“How dare-”

“In case you didn’t know, you are the only thing I have left. I’ve lost my family, seen hundreds of people die around me. I found you, my sweet and kind princess, the woman I would kill and be killed over. I opened myself up to you, to the idea of loving you, despite what little time we all have left, despite the risks that come with caring about someone.”

“I’m still the same person-”

“No, you’re not. You just fell in love with me, I didn't need to try this hard. It was natural that we come together after everything we had been through. When I thought about the day I would lose you, I expected you to die and for us to bury your body and for it all to be over. I could move on knowing I did everything I could to protect you and love you,” he gasped for air, so angry he forgot to breathe. His eyes burned into hers which were slowly widening, lips just agape. He took a deep breath and continued, “Do you know how much it hurts to see you walking around, talking to people, knowing that you are right there for me to touch and love, yet you will never love me again, not the way it was? Do you really, Y/N?”

“Levi...I’m sorry.”

He rubbed his face with his hand, covering his eyes in shame. He didn’t mean to be so emotional, to make a pathetic attempt at forcing the blame on her. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything for it to be this way. You’re just living like anyone else, I’m the one wallowing in my own misery. I’m the one that should be sorry.”

“I know. I-I want more than anything to remember everything. I want to remember you and how much you loved me like everyone says, like you say. I just...I don’t know how. Levi, I’m so sorry.”

He let his arms fall to his sides limply, not having anything else left to say really. “Even though you’re right in front of me, I miss you,” he whispered. “I just miss you.”

Y/N stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him into a gentle hug. He tensed for a moment before falling into the hug, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and neck, pulling her form as close to him as possible. He missed her touch, her warm hugs by the stables. He would never say he missed the little intimacies, that was too much for him. Yet, these moments fueled him to wait for her, as long as she needed.

“Maybe it will never be the same. I’m sorry for that, Levi. I want to be friends with you. I long to know what the old me saw in you for so long. I wish I remembered what happened to spark something between us. I know it’s all still there somewhere, whether we have that history or not.” Silence from him, just faint breaths against her shoulder. “But it will be okay.”

It’ll be okay.

________________________________________________

Six months after she lost her memory, six months of feeling like a burden to the corps, Y/N stood outside the castle with a few of the cadets and Hanji, watching as she tried more experiments on Eren. She leaned back against a tree and shut her eyes, taking in a breath of the fresh air. So much had happened over the past months that she nearly forgot she lost her memories all those months ago. Wall Rose was sealed, the titan shifters had left for the time being. It seemed like everything was at peace, or that time was just standing still.

In the middle of the peace, the sunlight shining down on her and her friends through leaves in the trees, through the warmth of the summer sun. her mind seemed to piece itself together, if only parts. Her world shifted together once again.

Flashbacks played over in her mind, one after the other, hundreds of memories flooding in so quickly. She stumbled forward a few steps, pressing a hand to her lips to hold back her gasp. Hanji hadn’t noticed as she was too focused on Eren, but Jean gave her a particularly strange look after noticing her.

“Y/N-san, you good?” the boy called to her.

Thankfully, no one noticed except him, and she just waved him off. “It’s nothing. Just have to go to the bathroom.” As she walked away, more and more memories flooded into her head, not everything. She felt millions of tiny pieces of her story were missing here and there, but she could remember enough.

Memories of her mother and her father in her childhood house. Memories of school, cadet training. Erwin, Eren, Hanji, her squad, the titans, the expeditions, her favorite foods and stories and books.

But most of all, she remembered Levi.

_______________________________

The night was soldiering on, yet Y/N could not sleep. Her stomach churned every few moments and she felt a headache coming up at the same time. Something had been bothering her for the past week, actually, make that the past few months. She was a seasoned soldier, yet she was letting emotions cloud her mind. Her exercises were coming up short and clumsy, and she had a hard time focusing on paperwork or the commander’s orders.

The only thing on her mind was a man, particularly short with a sharp tongue and the abilities of a godly warrior. It had been two years since she met him, two long years of fighting and struggling to live amongst the chaos ensuing. He was her only source of hope and light in this cruel world.

Slowly, she rolled out of her bed and wrapped herself in her blanket, leaving the room and shutting the door silently. She didn’t want to wake anyone else for them to ask what she was up to long after midnight. She stepped down the hall carefully, keeping her head hung just a bit. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been scared at all. She knew just as well as he did what they were meant to be. It was obvious to everyone.

Yet there were always variables. Death was inevitable, no one lived to die of old age anymore. They were busy beyond belief, always rushing around to get things done, fight titans, protect the people of the walls. It was high stress, which didn’t leave much thought for anything else. She had the mind to think about everything but her priorities, unfortunately.

She walked across the yard in the cold night to the men’s barracks, definitely not where she was supposed to be. She could probably be in a bit of trouble with Erwin if someone snitched on her, but her consequences wouldn’t be dire.

And as she approached the room, her body tensed. It was so quiet in the night that she could almost hear the sound of her heart beating ferociously in her chest. Softly, with the tips of her fingers, she knocked on his door. When he didn’t answer, she could only laugh to herself, of course he couldn’t hear her weak knocks.

She was just so scared. Maybe if he didn’t answer the door, then she could forget all about this and never confess what she was thinking.

Gathering some of that Survey Corps courage, she knocked a little harder on the door. Rustling sound from in the room, and the woman cringed, shutting her eyes and taking a few quick breaths. It would be fine, she assured herself. It’s not that big of a deal.

When the door opened and Levi looked into her eyes, rightfully confused, she lost all her thoughts. The hours she had spent rehearsing what she wanted to say were thrown out the window.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?” he whispered, his eyes sliding to check down the hall left and right for anyone watching.

Her mouth opened, lips opening and closing like fish. He took her wrist and yanked her into his room, shutting the door behind them.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, still holding her wrist in his iron tight grip. Y/N shook her head and sighed, turning to look at the wall instead of him. “Don’t tell me you had a nightmare or something-”

“Levi, I love you. I-I don’t know how else to tell you, and Hanji said outright was the best way and...well, I don’t know.”

“Love?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay with me tonight?”

Her face turned to stare at him incredulously, her cheeks turning an all-telling pink. “What?”

“I anticipated this, to be honest. You’re very emotional.” He crossed his arms, trying his best not to lose his cool composure like she had. He’d gone to the same evil scientist for love advice about Y/N a month before. His heart felt like it would explode, and his cheeks were threatening to turn red and his palms to sweat. But he would remain cool. Y/N was always the one to be open with her more embarrassing emotions. Coolly, he replied, “Hanji told me you would do this, and then she told me to tell you to stay the night with me.”

“Hanji...that double-crossing bastard.”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, feelings of drowsiness still running through his head after just waking up. “Listen, I just want to hold you and fall asleep so stay with me.”

It only took a second to think it over before Y/N nodded. He walked over to his bed, scooting over to the side against the wall so she would have room. They had tiny beds, almost cots, but thankfully being a captain warranted a slightly bigger one. She sunk down into his bed and rolled over to face him. His sheets and pillows smelt so clean and new, just like his clothes did every day. It was comforting, and she felt the smell lulling her to sleep.

“So, the feelings are mutual?” she finally asked, although her answer was already quite clear.

Levi just sighed, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close to his chest. “Always so stupid.”

__________________________________________

“Levi?” Y/N asked as she entered the man’s office without even knocking. She was practically bouncing with each step, energy bound up inside.

He didn’t bother peeking up from his desk, just checking more things off his paperwork. “Yes, Y/N?”

She didn’t really know what to say, truthfully. She could only stand there for moment, and think herself so stupid for not remembering him. Looking back on how she acted while she was recovering, how she acted like a stranger to him for so long, and now that seemed ridiculous. They had history. Thousands of moments that she forgot.

Without thinking much else, she bluntly said the only thing on her mind, “Stay the night with me.”

He lifted his eyes from his paperwork, narrowing his brows. “Excuse me?”

“You said that the first time I told you I loved you. You-You were too nervous to actually tell me you loved me so you said that instead,” Y/N rushed to say. “I remembered.”

As Levi looked up at the woman he loved, the one he never stopped loving this whole time, he noticed the sparkle in her eyes had returned. Her cheeks were dusted pink and she looked out of breath from excitement. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected this, and honestly he never thought he would hear her recall those times again.

“I remember you. Not everything yet, but I remember being in love with you. I remember how you loved me.”

He stood from his desk to walk over to the woman who was overflowing with so many words and thoughts and emotions that he thought she might burst. He rested his hands on her cheeks, bringing her eyes up to meet his. He could see, for the first time in forever, the way her eyes shone with love and affection for only him. She brought her hands up to rest on his, heat rising up to turn her ears red.

Even though they were practically married before, she felt anxious and embarrassed being so close to him and touching him again. It was like she had just fallen in love again, a giddy young woman with so much ahead of her. Levi touching her, it made her feel something again. His warmth radiating onto her chilled skin; it was all she needed to go crazy.

God, did she miss having these feelings. The feeling of being in love is one of the most pleasant mankind has ever felt.

“Levi, I’m back.”

“God, I missed you. I really fucking missed you.”

And as she wrapped her arms around him once again, feeling his heart beating against her ear, she remembered what it felt like to be Y/N. A woman who was loved and important, someone with a history of good deeds and hard work. It was worth waiting six months, just to feel this bliss once again.

They would be together as long as they had left, and every minute would be cherished. War would come. Deaths would surface. But at least they had the present.

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