#i saw a drawing of her in a suit and was IMMEDIATELY COMPELLED TO DO THIS

[inkdemonapologist]

Like father like daughter!

#i saw a drawing of her in a suit and was IMMEDIATELY COMPELLED TO DO THIS #batim audrey #audrey drew #batdr spoilers #batdr #bendy and the dark revival #also colour interpretation for this outfit taken from inkyvendingmachine's drawing of it #when in doubt just keep drawing #an ink stained nightmare forever stuck on repeat

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 17

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 17

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3300 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14   Part 15  Part 16

Part 17

Billy couldn’t stop gawking at you, wondering how it was possible you grew more beautiful each time he saw you. The red wrap dress you were wearing accentuated all your curves, and it took every bit of willpower he had not to rip it off of you and fuck you senseless right then and there. Unfortunately, he had to behave himself. Caravan was a pretty bouji place that had recently been labelled as one of the hottest restaurants in Manhattan and he had to pull a few strings to get a last-minute reservation for tonight. But seeing the smile on your face when you realized this was where you were dining had been completely worth all the hassle.

As the hostess guided the two of you to your table, he noticed a few assholes at the bar admiring you from afar. Immediately he snaked his arm around your waist to draw you in closer. You were his. If he could he’d pluck out every one of those fuckers’ eyes so they never made the mistake of looking at you again. Better yet, he’d keep you locked behind closed doors. Of course you wouldn’t agree to anything like that because you were too goddamn independent for your own good.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, taking a seat at your designated table.

Billy’s attention returned to your face as he followed suit, his gaze inhaling you in. “You look too hot. Too many assholes staring at you,” he grumbled.

The worried look on your face was replaced with a beaming smile, one that made his cock twitch.

“You’re being ridiculous” you remarked, scanning the menu.

His eyes drifted down to your chest, the swell of your soft, supple breasts just begging to be kissed and licked by him.

“Stop staring at my boobs, Billy,” you chastised even as a small smile graced your lips. “This is a proper first date. You can’t just ogle me like that. You have to behave like a gentleman.”

He quirked his eyebrow. “Sweetheart, I’ve never been that.”

“Well, try,” you ordered.

The waitress came by with the bottle of red wine you’d requested and poured some in both of your glasses. He noticed the redhead giving him a friendly smile, her green eyes lingering on him for a second too long. Fine, yeah, she may have been hot but she wasn’t you. No one was. So while he would have happily slipped her his number in the past, now the idea of being with someone who wasn’t you no longer excited him.

Once she left, he took the opportunity to move a few inches closer to you. What he really wanted was to get on his knees and bury his head between your legs, but something told him eating you out in in the crowded restaurant wouldn’t go over very well with you.

“I think she likes you.”

Hand propped on the back of your chair, he started playing with your hair. “Who?”

“Our waitress. She didn’t look at me once, her eyes were on you the entire time.”

He leaned in, ecstatic at the thought of you acting possessive. Even though you’d confessed to having feelings for him, Billy still worried you were ready to bolt at any moment. To see you jealous meant you genuinely cared and he didn’t have to worry about you leaving him. “She’s not my type. I have my eyes on someone else.”

You made a show of looking around the restaurant. “Oh, is Madani here too?”

“Funny,” he retorted, taking your hand in his.

“Your ginger’s lucky. I’m dressed way too nice or I’d take my knife and stab her with it.”

He smirked. “You’re vicious when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t like bad service.”

“Bullshit.”

“Billy, you’re hot. You know that. All the women here are checking you out. If I freaked out every time someone did that, I’d have a breakdown.”

He wanted to destroy the fucking world at the thought of someone even looking at you but apparently you were simply ambivalent about him. “So it’s that easy for you? Your brain tells you to turn off a feeling and your heart just does it?” Even to his own ears he sounded bitter. “Guess you’re not all that invested in me.”

Your eyebrow quirked up, apparently surprised by his edgy tone. “Do you want me to go nuts?”

“Just want you to give a damn.”

“You think I don’t?” you snapped. “Every time she looks at you I want to tear her hair out. Even though the rational part of me knows she’s probably just flirting with you because it’s part of her job or she’s hoping for big tips. Or maybe she really does want to fuck you. Either way, I want to punch her across the face. Happy?” You gulped down your wine.

Grinning, he squeezed your hand. “Then why not just tell me that? Why act like you don’t care?”

The agitated expression on your face was replaced with tenderness, your eyes soft. “Just because I don’t have a jealous fit doesn’t mean I don’t care. I just…” You exhaled a sigh, and he sensed this was difficult for you. “I express my emotions differently than you.”

“I noticed. You put on an act while holding everything in.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“But I want you, the real you, not the version everyone else sees.”

“It’s not that easy, Billy.”

He brought your palm to his lips. “I’d never told anyone about my mother.”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you pointed out.

“You found out anyway, and I’m so fucking glad you did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have realized I could be real with you.” He placed a tender kiss on your skin. “I don’t want to hide anything from you, Y/N.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Then tell me about William Rawlins.”

Your request gave him pause, his eyes roaming over your face. He’d taken painstaking measures to keep his partnership with Rawlins a secret yet you’d discovered it. “What do you want to know?”

“He gave you a lot of money.”

“I earned that money,” he said in a defensive tone. “He and I were partners for a while. Then he died.”

“You went to a lot of trouble to hide your connection to him.”

“You found out about it though.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m good at what I do.”

“Yeah, too good,” he muttered. He released your hand, watching you intently. “So what do you want to know?”

You leaned in closer, your voice barely above a whisper. He was momentarily distracted by the sensation of your tits pressed against him but he forced himself to concentrate.

“What happened to Rawlins, did you have anything to do with it?”

Billy took a swig of his wine. “Why do you think that?”

You quirked your eyebrow at him. “Knifed by someone in the parking lot. They never found the guy who did it.”

“He had a lot of enemies,” he pointed out.

“Okay, so maybe I was wrong.”

He studied you for several seconds, trying to decide if he should take the leap or not. “You’re not wrong.”

Realization dawned on your face as the truth set in. “Why did you do it?”

“You sure you want to know?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I?”

So he told you, about Operation Cerberus, his role in it and the money he earned, how he’d eliminated Rawlins a year ago when the prick plotted to take out Frank and his family. To this day Frank didn’t know about Billy’s partnership with Rawlins or how close he came to dying and he intended to keep it that way.

Throughout his confession his eyes were glued to your face, gauging your reactions. The part of him determined to do anything to be a success, the one who didn’t let society’s morals get in the way of his ambitions, would never be accepted by his closest friends. Despite the myriad of reasons to have kept that side of himself hidden, he didn’t want to do that with you. Because as risky as it was to be so open with you, it was also exhilarating. There was no one in this world he’d ever been this honest with and that kind of intense connection with you was addictive. He wanted you to know everything about him, all of the dark and vicious thoughts that ran through his head, the burning ambition that kept pushing him forward. He wanted you to know him inside and out and he wanted the same from you.

Before he could prod you to speak your mind the server came by with your dishes, setting your meals on the table. The redhead took her time, all the whilst your gaze was focused on the table, avoiding his. Billy’s heart started to pound in his chest, he was suddenly filled with doubt. Had he made a mistake in telling you the truth? Did he just completely fuck this up? Every second the goddamn redhead lingered at the table felt like an eternity when all he wanted was to shake you out of your stupor.

The second the server left, he moved in on you. “Are you gonna say something?”

You finally looked at him, your forehead burrowed. “We need to do a better job of hiding your history with Rawlins. I found it, that means someone else can too.”

“You gonna help me with that?”

You shook your head ‘yes’. “Yeah, I have to. You need me.”

“What I did doesn’t bother you?”

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “Of course it does, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You’ve seen me at my worst and you didn’t judge me. I won’t do that to you either. Besides, when the universe deals you a shitty hand you’ve got to find other ways to even out your odds.”

A strange feeling of warmth flooded over him, compelling him to angle forward and kiss you on the lips.

You pulled away a second later, smiling at him as you rubbed the corner of his mouth. “This lipstick isn’t kiss-proof.”

“I don’t care.” Wicked visions of you flashed through his mind. Your bold red lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him off the way he liked it. His cum spread over your tits, your neck, your lips. The taste of your sweet, delicious cunt on his tongue as he fucked you with his mouth. The heat of your tongue against his as he rammed into you over and over-

“Stop looking at me like that,” you warned.

“Then stop looking so hot,” he snarked.

You smiled, biting down on your bottom lip.

It blew his mind how sweet and shy you were when he paid you compliments, like you didn’t expect that from him. Obviously he needed to fix that, because you deserved to know how insanely beautiful you were all the time.

“Has Anvil been okay without Rawlins?” you asked, taking a bite out of your butternut squash ravioli.

Swallowing his steak, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It was tough for a while but we’ve been doing pretty well the last few months.”

“You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished, Billy. You took a big risk going into business for yourself and you made it work. That’s amazing. I could never do that.”

Billy’s insides radiated with happiness. Other than Curtis and Frank he never really had people who genuinely believed in him so to have you cheering him on was exalting. Especially considering you were great at what you did and he had so much respect for you.

He poured himself and you more wine before reaching for your hand again. “I think you could. You’d make a shitload of money if you freelanced.”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No way, I’m too much of a coward to take a risk like that.” You took a sip of your wine. “Plus I get to go to Paris for work.”

“Or you could go to Paris on vacation and not work.”

“Then I’d have to pay for it,” you pointed out, grinning. “When you grow up the way I did, you learn to appreciate free things.”

Your enthusiasm was infectious, he couldn’t hep but smile back. A part of him was hoping this would be the perfect opening for you to talk more about your childhood, about everything you went through, because he desperately wanted you to trust him as much as he trusted you with his secrets.

“I’ll be there for two weeks,” you continued, oblivious to his disappointment. “We’re going to scout out locations for the new branch and-”

“We?” Billy interjected.

You cast him a quick glance. “Roger’s coming with me on the trip.”

The jealousy that struck him felt like a swift kick to his gut. Images of you and that goddamn bastard traipsing around and enjoying romantic date nights in Paris assaulted his mind. Agitated, he pulled his hand from yours. “I bet that fucker can’t wait to be alone with you.”

“Billy, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“How would you feel if I took off with someone who wanted to fuck me?”

“First of all, he doesn’t want me.”

His jaw clenched with frustration as he glared at you. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s thought about fucking you.”

“Even if he does, I don’t want him.” You reached out to cup his face, your voice so soft and tender in your attempts to placate him that he momentarily forgot how upset he was. “You really think I’d jeopardize what we have for a fling with Roger? I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then don’t go. Turn him down.”

Irritation flickered over your face, he could tell you were done coddling him. “Billy, you have no right to ask me that. I’d never interfere with your work.”

Underneath all that jealousy he knew you were right. As much as he despised the idea of you going away to Paris with another guy, he couldn’t demand that you not go on work trips. If you did that to him, it would annoy the fuck out of him. Yet despite his rational side recognizing he was asking for too much, he couldn’t help but feel bitter. “That asshole’s gonna make a move on you, I know it.”

“What if he does? What do you think is gonna happen?”

Hs eyes met yours, urgently seeking some kind of validation from you. “You tell me.”

“Do you think I’m going to sleep with him?”

He flinched. “Don’t talk about fucking another guy, please. You’re gonna make me lose my appetite.”

You took his hand and placed it over your left breast, probably to distract him from all the disgusting images that were running through his brain. “I wanted you so badly and even then it took me like a month to fuck you. Trust me, I’m not going to sleep with him when I’m not even attracted to him.”

Spotting the earnestness in your eyes, the knot in his stomach finally loosened. Roger may have had a hard-on for you but Billy knew you felt nothing for the fucker. He’d noticed that even at the night of the gala. So that meant he had to trust you, there was no reason not to. “Call me every night when you’re there,” he grumbled.

“Every night? You’re probably going to start blocking my calls,” you laughed.

He booped your nose. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

You beamed. “Fine.” A wicked glint flashed in your eyes, a seductive smile on your lips as you slowly moved his hand lower, his fingers now on your nipple. “Hey, just ‘cause you’re not there with me doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

He stroked your nipple over the fabric of your dress, enjoying how the nub hardened under his touch, the way your breath hitched in your throat when he continued his ministrations. With his other hand he tucked your hair behind your ear, whispering to you. “Phone sex is alright, but nothing beats this.” His tongue curved along the shell of your ear, and you trembled against him. “Right?”

The waitress seemed to come out of nowhere this time to ask how your meals were, and you jumped back. Disappointed, he sighed.

“Food was great. Thank you,” you replied, smiling stiffly at the redhead.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Privacy would be great,” Billy muttered.                                                            

You kicked him under the table. “Dessert menu?”

“Sure. I’ll bring it right over,” the waitress said, taking your plates away.  

“I’ll give you all the sugar you want once we get outta here,” he murmured seductively, caressing your thigh.

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “That’s a terrible line!” You took his hand and removed it from your thigh. “Billy, I’m not sleeping with you tonight.”

“Why not?”                                                      

“Because it’s our first date and I don’t put out on the first date.”

“Now that’s a terrible line,” he fired back, mimicking your earlier tone.

“Also, we already had sex this morning.”

“So? I’m greedy. I can’t get enough of you.” There was that shy smile of yours again, and he reached out to give you a sweet peck on the cheek. “You blush every time I tease you.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, it’s adorable.”

Your cheeks grew even more red. “I’m not used to it from you. A part of me still thinks you’re bullshitting me.”

Billy stiffened. “Really?”

“I know you’re not playing me,” you reassured. “It’s on me, not you. I just have a hard time accepting when good things happen.”

The waitress came by with the dessert menu. He briefly glanced at it before ordering a slice of pecan pie while you ordered a piece of chocolate cake.

As soon as the redhead left, he broached the topic with you again. “I’m not gonna hurt you, babe. You have to believe that.”

You didn’t look at him, your eyes fixed somewhere on his chest. “I do. You were so pissed off at me last night. I honestly expected you to hit me because you were so angry. But you didn’t.”

It made him sick to his stomach that you actually thought him capable of hitting you. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you would worry about that, but of course you would. With your childhood it made perfect sense, he was just a fucking idiot who hadn’t realized how much it still impacted you. “I’m never gonna lay a hand on you. I swear.” His eyes locked with yours, hoping you can sense how much he meant those words.

“I believe you.”

His voice was insistent, his gaze boring into you. “Why did you think I would?”

Your eyes wavered from his eyes to his lips for a long time, the atmosphere thick with tension. Your facial expressions ran the gamut of painful emotions, from uncertainty to fear to sheer panic.

It finally sank in that maybe the reason you were keeping the truth from him had noting to do with if you trusted him or not. Maybe you didn’t want to be assaulted by memories from the past that caused you so much pain. The last thing he wanted was for you to experience that hell again. Regretting his demanding tone, his hands caressed down the length of your arms. “You don’t have to tell me, It’s okay.”

Your eyes brimmed with aching vulnerability as you looked up at him. “I want to… I just… give me some time, okay?” You pressed your lips against his, giving him the softest, sweetest kiss. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight for so long, I don’t want to ruin it, you know?”

His heart felt full, his mind reeling with wonderment at the thought of you truly reciprocating his feelings. His arms wrapped around you as you sank into him, burying your face in his chest. His fingers stroked the back of your hair, murmuring soft, soothing words to you. Somewhere in the distance he heard the server’s voice trying to interject, but he didn’t give a damn.  He was yours and you were his and nothing was going to ruin that. Nothing.

Part 18

A/N - I realize not much happened in this chapter but I just reallly wanted to write a dialogue heavy part where they simply get to know and enjoy each other. I think they’ve earned some fluff. LOL.

As always, thank you for your kind words of encouragement. Please let me know your thoughts.

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #billy russo x you #the punisher #a woman scorned

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Get Me to the Church On Time

Enzo St. John x Mikaelson! Reader

Words: 3037

Part 3 of 4 (Part One, Part Two)

Summary: Preparations for the wedding are in full swing and it’s time to go dress shopping. With you out with the girls, Enzo is left to find the perfect suit with none other than your protective older brothers. Needless to say, tensions are high.

Note: Part Three!!! And I’m bringing in the Vampire Diaries crew for the wedding. More Damon/Enzo bromance on the way, along with some girl fun with Caroline and Bonnie. Like the others, this one jumps around a bit some more, but I hope it isn’t too confusing. I’m just bad at writing transitions. (Repost Notes: Ugh, going through these makes me so happy, you guys!

-

The sound of suitcases rolling on the sidewalk made your heart leap. You sat up from your spot on the couch, Enzo stirring slightly next to you. He made a sound of confusion as you smacked his arm. 

“They’re here!” You exclaimed, sprinting outside. The blonde and the brunette were arguing over something but immediately stopped when they saw you. 

“I told you this was the right place!” Caroline squealed, rushing towards you for a hug. Bonnie set her bag down and joined the group hug. 

“I can’t believe this is all happening.” You sighed as the three of you pulled apart. “There’s not even a week left until the wedding and I haven’t even found the dress yet.” Caroline laced her arm through yours and Bonnie’s.

“Why do you think we’re here?” She beamed. They grabbed their bags and you led them into the compound where Freya invited Caroline in and Enzo stiffened uncomfortably. 

“Bonnie… Caroline. How nice to see you.” He put on a tight smile and Bonnie rolled her eyes. He rubbed his hands together, signaling his discomfort. He didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye with your best friends. “Well, I’m sure Y/N can show you to your rooms.” He cast you a pleading look and you smirked. 

“Right this way ladies.” You led them away, the two of them turning back at Enzo and giggling. You couldn’t help but laugh along. “You guys really hate him, don’t you?” You said as soon as the door to their room was closed. 

“We don’t… hate him.” Bonnie clarified. “We just-hmm.” She tried to think of the right word. Caroline kicked her shin. “Ow! What was that for?”

“If you like Enzo, we like Enzo.” Caroline promised. Bonnie nodded in skeptical agreement. “Besides, he’s the reason we get to go dress shopping, on an unlimited budget, in New Orleans.” She took your face in her hands. “You are not allowed to worry about anything. We are here now and we shall tend to everything. Right Bonnie?”

“What are bridesmaids for?” She smiled, her skepticism breaking away. 

“I completely agree.” Rebekah said from the doorway. Her arms were crossed and her face held a dangerously smug look. As the maid of honor she was going to have to interact with the other bridesmaids at some point. With a quick begging glance from you, her smug look spread into a sincere smile. “And in order to do that, I suggest that we set aside our differences for the coming days. From now until the reception ends, we are nothing more than the friends and family to my dear sister Y/N.” The two girls considered this and shrugged. 

“I don’t see why not.” Caroline finally said and motioned for Rebekah to come further into the room, pulling a small planner out of her suitcase. “Today is dress shopping day. While we will be at the boutique at 2:00, the boys will be taking Enzo to get his suit. After that is all taken care of, Enzo and Y/N will get to have one final date night to themselves before becoming a married couple.” You looked down at your watch. 

“Well it’s only noon, so we’ll just have to find something to keep us busy until the appointment.” You suggested showing the girls around town, but you could tell Bonnie was tired from the long trip here. “Perhaps Rebekah can catch me up on everything I’ve missed down here in the quarter.” 

“How about I treat us all to lunch?” Rebekah offered. “Just us girls, of course.” She winked at your two best friends, who still seemed slightly uneased by her presence. You clasped your hands together mouthing the word “Please” over and over again. Bonnie grinned, only mildly reluctant. 

“So long as you’re paying.”

The four of you headed down the stairs to find Enzo surrounded by your three brothers, all looking as intimidating and menacing as ever. When he saw you, Enzo smiled nervously. 

“There’s my lovely fiancé!” He exclaimed, wrapping his arm around you and looking back at your brothers with a gaze that said ‘See, I’m safe now!’. “Klaus and I were just talking about you.” 

“Oh really?” You inquired, shooting Nik and deadly glare. “I would love to stay and chat, but we’ve decided to go out to lunch before we head to the Bridal Boutique this afternoon.” Enzo went pale. 

“Just the four of you?” He squeaked and Kol snickered. 

“Well it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride’s dress before the wedding.” You shrugged. “Besides, you have to go look at suits with my brothers.” His eyes were filled with a comical amount of fear. “Also…” You pulled him aside, though you knew everyone would be listening in. It was hard to have a private conversation in a room full of people with supernatural hearing. “Don’t you need to make a phone call?” 

“I was… planning on it.” He nodded and you smacked the back of his head. “Ow! What in bloody hell was that for?” 

“Call. Him.” You growled and he slumped his shoulders, groaning. 

“Okay fine.” You started to walk away, but he kept his hand on your elbow. “And do you think it’s a good idea to leave me with them?” You turned to your brothers. 

“Klaus will be on his best behavior, won’t you Nik.” You said, the threat of ripping him limb from limb should anything happen to Enzo in your voice. “Besides, Elijah will be there and he will keep the others in line.”

“I shall do my best.” Elijah chuckled, putting a hand on Enzo’s shoulder. He tried not to flinch. 

“Great! Well we will be heading out then. I’ll see you later tonight.” You place a quick kiss on Enzo’s cheek before rushing off the girls. 

The impending doom looming over him intensified as Klaus stepped forward. 

“Well if they’re going out, I don’t see why we can’t get a bite to eat.” He stared menacingly at Enzo, who gulped. “Who’s hungry?” 

-

You stood in front of the mirror, running your hands down the tulle skirt. It was a gorgeous dress, but it just wasn’t the dress. Luckily, when you came out of the dressing room, your entourage agreed with your doubts in a very vocal manner. 

“No.” Rebekah shook her head, her eyes traveling up and down the length of fabric. “You look like a glorified Barbie.” 

“Actually, I agree. Way too much sparkle.” Caroline quipped. Bonnie nodded. The attendant came in asking what everyone thought. 

“My sister shall look nothing less than royalty.” Rebekah commanded. She pulled the woman towards her. “Find her the most elegant dress in the store, then come back and ask me.” She compelled and the woman sashayed off. 

“And make sure it’s sexy!” Caroline called after her. The four of you giggled.

It was almost perfect, but a part of your heart was still aching. You knew exactly what was missing. You felt your shoulders fall and looking around, your eyes filled with tears.  Caroline immediately noticed and jumped off of the couch. 

 “You can’t cry yet! You haven’t even picked a dress!” She whined, putting her hands on your shoulders, trying to read what was wrong. You laughed and wiped the moisture from your cheeks.

“I just wish Elena could be here. With all of us.” You had always imagined all of your friends being there if you ever got married and now… it just seemed incomplete. Bonnie nodded in agreement and held up her glass of champagne. 

“To Elena.” She toasted. “I’m sure she’s watching over this from whatever weird, supernatural coma world she’s in.” The rest of you held up your glasses with small, sad smiles and echoed. 

“To Elena.” 

-

Enzo stood uncomfortably as the tailor fitted the suit onto him. The rest of the room was completely silent, with the occasional question from the tailor that Enzo would answer quickly and quietly. Klaus sat, sharpening the leg of the wooden table next to him. Elijah was flipping through the newspaper and Kol just looked bored.   

“Do stop that Niklaus,” Elijah sighed. “You’re being childish.” 

“Someone has to be prepared for when this all blows over.” Klaus shrugged. Enzo clenched his fists but remained silent. “Now as to how I’ll kill him, I haven’t entirely decided.”

“I think you two should be a little more excited.” Kol stood up, circling around Enzo and pointing something out to the tailor. “We are to have a new brother! Someone else to add to the family drama. To torment for the rest of our never ending lives.” He grinned. Enzo couldn’t tell if Kol was mocking him, or attempting to be sincere. From what Y/N had told him about her twin, he figured it was a bit of both and the best he was going to get. 

“I’m just taking the necessary precaution for when this riff raff breaks our sister’s heart.” He threw the stake at Enzo, who barely ducked in time. 

“That is it!” Enzo shouted, his temper finally getting the better of him. “I have done nothing but love Y/N for as long as I have had the pleasure of knowing her. How dare you accuse me of not meeting your standards- which, by the way, are designed for every man who comes into your sister's lives to fail. Y/N loves me and I love her and I will not stand for anyone who suggests otherwise.” The sudden outburst made all three brothers stare at Enzo in surprise. Elijah put down his paper, seeing his younger brother draw closer to the young vampire.

 Enzo’s eyes widened with fear as Klaus came towards him. This was it. This was the end. And he didn’t even get to finish the suit. The hybrid leaned in close, his voice deep and mischievous. 

“Now there’s the spirit I’ve heard so much about.” Klaus smirked. Enzo lowered his brows in confusion. “No need to fuss, I’m still planning your gruesome death, but for now…” He clapped his hands together. “We have a wedding to prepare for.” He tossed Enzo’s cell phone to him. “And if I remember correctly you have a phone call to make. Tell Damon I said hello.” Klaus compelled the tailor to take a break and the three Mikaelsons left the room. 

Enzo sighed and dialed the number.

“What now?” Damon answered. 

“I have to ask you something…” Enzo ran his fingers through his hair. Why was this so hard? Damon was probably his only friend in the living world, so he didn’t really have any other options. “You see, Y/N and I are getting married-”

“Yeah, Caroline told me.” Damon interrupted. “Congrats on becoming part of the psycho original family.” 

“Damon,” Enzo snapped, growing impatient. “I’m trying to ask you to be my best man.” The other line went silent. 

“Wow…” Damon blew out a breath. “I mean… yeah. Sure. Why not? I love weddings.” Changing his tone, he poured himself a drink as usual and made a mental note to get a tux. “Where are you getting married again? Is it a destination wedding, because I would love to go to Hawaii-” 

“It’s in New Orleans.” Enzo said and he could hear Damon nearly choke on his drink. 

“No. No way. You’re on your own.” As he went to hang up, Enzo started to beg. 

“Please Damon. I know that you don’t have a great reputation with Y/N’s family, but this is really important for me.” He pleaded. With still no answer, he let out a desperate sigh. “You’re the only friend I’ve got.” Damon was quiet for a long time, having an angry debate with himself before finally answering.

“I’ll be there.” 

-

The night was glistening with stars, along with the multitude of candles Caroline had strung about the courtyard. She had transformed the space into the perfect place for one final romantic dinner before Enzo and you tied the knot. Bonnie, Rebekah, and Freya had spent the past two hours helping you get ready. Caroline had insisted on formal- and on picking out the dress. As much as you hated to admit, your friend had impeccable taste. The dress was the perfect mix of sexy and elegant, much like the dress you had chosen earlier that day. 

Enzo stood patiently outside your door, offering his arm as you finally emerged. He tried to keep his jaw from dropping. 

“You look stunning.” He smiled and suddenly all of the feelings you had first felt when the two of you started dating came rushing back. All of the nerves mixed with excitement. All of the short electric bursts shooting through your skin. Everything burned brighter and lit up your face in a way that made you glow. As he led you down the stairs, your eyes glittered in the lights. Enzo couldn’t imagine you looking more beautiful than you did in that moment. 

He pulled out your chair for you before taking his seat across the table. A bottle of wine waited beside a basket of fresh bread from a nearby bakery.

At first you couldn’t think of anything to say. You just twisted your pasta around and around on your fork as Enzo poured the wine. He, too, seemed to feel the awkwardness between you and he chuckled softly to himself. 

“Why does it suddenly feel so much harder to talk?” He asked in a tone of amused frustration. You laughed, letting your shoulders relax as you took a sip of wine.

“I was thinking exactly the same thing.” You sighed, letting a genuine smile spread across your face. “It’s probably just the nerves for the wedding, but I can hardly breathe half the time, let alone hold a conversation.”

“It is daunting, isn’t it?” He mused, placing a hand on top of yours. “An eternity with me?” 

“Frankly, I can’t think of anything better.” You smiled and raised your glass for your second toast that day. “Here’s to the next five days before the rest of our eternity.” He clinked his glass gently against yours, admiring the view before him. The candle light made a halo around your head and the flowers that Caroline had picked brought out the color of your eyes. 

“You have truly outdone yourself.” Klaus told Caroline, who was standing next to him on the balcony above the couple. 

“It’s their last dinner as a non-married couple.” She shrugged. “I figured a little romance was necessary.”  She eyed him suspiciously. “So you’re really okay with this?”

“Okay with what?” He asked innocently, though he knew exactly what she meant. She cocked an eyebrow. 

“With your sister getting married.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I mean, every time Rebekah has found a lover, he is either brutally murdered or he mysteriously vanishes.” 

“I haven’t decided what I shall do with Lorenzo yet.” Klaus gave her a mischievous look and she rolled her eyes. 

“He might be a handful, but Enzo is a pretty good guy. Especially when he’s with Y/N.” She thought for a second before adding. “He kind of reminds me of you.” 

“Surely he doesn’t meet my grand stature.” Klaus brought her hand up to his lips. “If you would excuse me, dear Caroline, I believe I shall turn in for the night.” He saw the blush rush to her cheeks and smirked before walking away with a slight skip in his step. 

As you watched your brother make his way to his room, you stood from the table and excused yourself for a moment, cutting Klaus off before he reached the door. 

“Can I talk to you, Nik?” You asked and he tilted his head to the side with curiosity. You both went into the study, shutting the door behind you. Elijah had been relaxing in his favorite chair after his own romantic dinner with Hayley. He put down his book and looked at you in anticipation. 

“Is something wrong?” He wondered and you shook your head. 

“I have something I have been meaning to ask the two of you…” You paused, trying to think of how to phrase what you were about to say. It was one of the most important questions besides your proposal to Enzo itself. “You see… I would very much like it if- well you know Kol isn’t all that sentimental, and you both mean so much to me. You’re my brothers, for heaven’s sake! You have always been there for me no matter what trouble I found myself in.” You knew you were ranting again and took a deep breath, trying to get to the point. “I love you both so dearly and I was hoping that you would both give me away.” 

At first neither brother said anything. They just stared at you as emotion filled their eyes and loving smiles appeared on their faces. 

“It would be an honor.” Elijah beamed. Klaus shrugged. 

“Well I suppose I have nothing else going on.” He teased. You pulled both of them into a hug, tears of joy filling your eyes. Elijah had always been there for you, but it was Klaus that you were so ecstatic about agreeing. It meant that- in his own, strange way- that he approved of you being married to Enzo. And that meant the world to you. 

Elijah placed a light kiss on your forehead, Klaus doing the same, and the two pulled away. 

“Now, I believe that you have a romantic dinner to get back to.” Elijah pointed out. “And we mustn't keep Lorenzo waiting.” 

“Let him wait!” Klaus said draping his arm over your shoulder. “We take priority in this household.” Both you and Elijah chuckled and you kissed Klaus’ cheek.

“Elijah’s right, Nik. I should get back. Before he runs off with some trollop off the street.” You gave him a wink. Kol had told you about the suit fitting and you couldn’t help but tease Nik about it. You knew he was just being his usual over-protective self, but your fiancé had stood up to him. It made you love Enzo even more- something you didn’t even think was possible.  

Keep Reading to: A Bourbon Street Wedding

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

#lorenzo st john #enzo st john x reader #mikaelson reader #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #damon salvatore #caroline forbes #klaroline #new orleans #the originals imagines #the vampire diaries imagines

[yelenasdog]

talk to me? (spencer reid x fem reader)

genre: fluff 

summary: cold nights and warm coffee can be so compelling.

words: 2.2k 

warnings: mentions of having intrusive thoughts and spence being insecure, reader and spencer sleeping in the same bed. that’s all i can think of, lmk if there’s anything else!

a/n: yo! so uhhh i kinda love the start of this and dislike the end of it, but idk i think it’s still pretty snazzy!! also SPENCER IN GLASSES HAS MY HEART ok bye enjoy!!

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

It was the type of cold where no matter how brightly the sun was shining, you could still feel the fresh molecules of coolness linger on your skin, hiding under the tip of your nose. It made horribly irritable little dry patches that would have to be remedied with some form of lotion, but that wouldn’t quite return back to complete normal until the end of the winter time.

But despite this, Y/n and Spencer were out and about, doing their jobs in total normalcy.

Minus being stationed in France, that is.

Although it was rare that the BAU was called overseas, Emily had needed the team’s help, and who would they be to decline a trip to the beautiful France, no less to see Prentiss as well.

So after a grueling day of blood and bad-guys, the pair made their way back to their Parisian hotel room, walking (quite wobbily, Y/n would add) along the cobblestone walkways, both of their boots clicking loudly against the rain coated stones.

It was ironic, as Spencer had attempted to wear his converse, but was denied by a worried Y/n, hearing her say “You’re going to get those things soaked, and you’ll freeze your toes right off, Dr. Reid!”

And as not to disappoint the girl, never wanting to see her mood turn as gloomy as the French sky, he complied begrudgingly. Though Y/n could swear she always saw a hint of a smile at her telling off.

Spencer was also advised by her to wear his contacts, to avoid the fogging up of his readers, but he refused, not wanting to bother with said contacts. He grew to regret that as he walked, every so often and reaching a large hand up to wipe his glasses, almost like the wind shield wipers of the bug that had been driving them around.

He chuckled at the not so distant away memories, thankful for the girl and her requests, as it turned out.

The hotel was far different from the usual dingy motels the team usually occupied when traveling, that was for certain. This one happened to be a master suite with ivory walls and silky sheets, quite opposite from the thin and scratchy yellowed covers they usually made do with.

And even though It was early in the day, the mixture of odd sleep schedules and just the heavy weight of sleepiness pressing down heavily on their shoulders, they opted to go to bed at the oh-so late time of 1:37 PM.

Daredevils, those two are.

Ignoring the first bed by the door, Spencer made a beeline for the plush queen size mattress he knew Y/n and himself would be sharing in an effort to cuddle up for warmth, sinking down into it. (After removing his shoes, of course.)

He was originally donned in just a grey Caltech shirt and some blue pajama pants, but due to the chillier weather (that he couldn’t quite seem to shake despite the thermostat in the hotel room being turned up to 76) he layered on a maroon MIT hoodie, one that he was aware Y/n would try to thieve from him, perhaps even sneaking it back in her own suitcase.

Y/n walked out of the bathroom in pale green shorts and a large and worn Led Zeppelin shirt, earning a very confused stare from Spencer. She simply shook her head and continued on her way over to the large window that was currently projected bright streams of melted gold through the glass, that would have been heated if it wasn’t for that damn cold.

“I get warm when I sleep, it bothers me.”

He nodded, watching intently as she opened and shut the blinds a few times, soft krrrrs and clicks sounding through the room as she did.

“You doing alright?” He asked, his eyeline never faltering. She turned and he picked up his copy of “A Farewell To Arms,” something she had been the one to reccomend to him, ranting on and on about Ernest Hemingway and his precious 6 toed cats. 

It was one of Spencer’s more realistic goals in life to take Y/n back to Key West to visit the Hemingway House, after her having said a childhood trip there was one of her happiest memories.

He quickly flipped to a random page, not wanting her to catch him being what he considered to be creepy, even though Y/n thought it was quite adorable.

She bit back a giggle and a smile, settling on leaving the window half open half closed. She padded over to where Spencer was, laying back onto what she imagined a cloud would feel like.

She reached over, taking the blue colored book from his hands and his thickly rimmed glasses off from where they were resting on his perfect button nose. 

She smiled to herself fondly at the items in her hands, particularly at the novel. She placed them on her bedside table (why hers and not his, Reid wasn’t too sure, but also was not going to complain), and then moved to slide between the slick tightly-tucked sheets.

“Our options were A, not be able to sleep because of Mr. Sun being out right now, or you freezing to death because Mr. Sun was blocked totally by the curtains.”

He looked over at where she had been messing around with the heavy drapes.

“I see you went in between.”

She smiled graciously, which Spencer returned immediately.

“That I did.”

A few more awkward moments of silence (not including the occasional yelling and honking from those riding on motorbikes below) passed, before she finally settled into the sheets.

She turned to the side table to her left and tugged on the chain of the old timey lamp. The room went quiet, but the pair’s minds were anything but.

Y/n’s head was swimming in intrusive thoughts, while Spencer’s was a hazy cloud of self deprecations and his own voice keeping him awake, staring at the painted ceiling.

“Spence?”

“Mmhm?”

“Can you talk to me?”

Spencer’s brows furrowed. He shifted around in the creme sheets of the bed, finding a cold spot quite quickly.

“What do you want me to say?”

Silence.

“Anything.”

She turned over to now be facing the lanky boy, their noses nearly touching. She held her breath, sucking in a bottom lip.

He looked to her eyes, to her lips, and back to her eyes again, quickly gathering a list of things to ramble about.

“Well,” he began, “Paris was originally founded in the 3rd century BC, and was a Roman city called Lutetia, and to prove it, there’s even remains of Roman ruins in the capital. And speaking of monuments, in total, there are 1,803 of them, and 173 museums in Paris alone- Y/n?”

To his surprise, Y/n’’s idea had worked. Spencer looked over to see a sleeping Y/n, a peaceful expression resting upon her features.

He smiled at the idea that he had played some role in that, closing his own eyes. The cloud that was previously keeping him from long awaited slumber was now a light film, nagging at the back of his head quietly. 

He simply told the voice to quiet down and was then able to lull himself to sleep, Y/n’s presence calming him to no end.

It wasn’t until 8 hours later that they had woken up, first Spencer, followed by Y/n. She peeked open her eyes, pleasantly surprised by the lack of light shining through the curtains. 

She wiggled around, stretching from her neck down to her toes. Spencer smiled at this, finding her resemblance to a cat who had been sunnapping, quite endearing.

She moved to her side, placing a hand under her chin to get a better look at the Doctor who was nearly finished reading her copy of “A Farewell to Arms”.

“Did you at least mark my spot?” She asked, voice raspy from sleep.

He scoffed, flipping to and then showing her the bookmarked page of the story.

“What do you think I am, a monster?”

She chuckled, sitting up next to Spencer.

“I mean, I don’t know, sometimes it seems like it”.

He rolled his eyes, setting down the read and hopping out of bed.

“What are you doing, Spence?” She asked, not amused in the slightest by the idea of having to get out of bed.

“We are going to get coffee.”

She shook her head of messy hair, the wispy bits flowing around her like a halo in the hotel room lighting.

“You can go get us coffee and bring it right back over here, alright? Thanks, you’re a doll.”

He did that thin lipped smile that seems to be his equivalent of a smirk, grabbing a hoodie from the inside of his suitcase that was perched on top of a dresser.

“Come on, we’re going on an adventure. Use this and the idea of coffee as an incentive.”

He tossed her the hoodie, the jacket landing by her feet with an audible plop.

She loudly groaned, shrugging it on and pulling herself out of bed. She also managed to tug on some jeans and an overcoat, as well as her boots, shaking her head at Spencer’s lack of preparation for the cold temperatures, as always. 

“Spencer, I am not about to go to this and have you complain about being cold the whole time, put on your coat, please.” She gestured to where it was hanging in the closet with her hand still concealed by her trench coat’s pocket, her eyes shutting and her head lolling to the side.

“If you insist.”

“Yes I do, put it on, lets go.” She said drawing out the “o”.

Spencer’s eyes widened and he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “My apologies, good morning to you too.”

She only rolled her eyes and smiled, opening the door to the room and leading the way.

By the time she had found a coffee shop on Yelp that she had deemed satisfactory, (which was extremely difficult due to the language barrier) the time had passed even later, and the temperature was even lower.

The lights on the streets sparkled, reflecting in the puddles of the water that lined the asphalt. Y/n was quite enchanted by the little light shows, slowing the journey to the shop significantly. Spencer didn’t mind, though, he enjoyed every second he got to spend with her to the absolute fullest, and found her fascination with every part of life inspiring.

When they finally reached the quaint little coffee shop, they walked inside, finding refuge in the warmth of the establishment.

Spencer ordered for them, and Y/n found a table (as that’s what they always did, taking turns between ordering and scouting a place to sit).

She located a cozy little corner by a window, a perfect place to observe those who bustled about at night, watching them and coming up with back stories, whatever they may be.

She enjoyed doing that, it made her believe she had a better understanding of the world around her, why those she works on catching every day behave in the manner they do.

And what better place to do so than Paris?

So she flagged Reid (who now was in possession of the two drinks) over, taking hers from his hand. 

“Latte with two creams and 4 sugars for the lady.”

She smiled graciously, allowing the heat of the cup to spread through her system.

“And what did you get? Let me guess, a shot of espresso with 12 sugars?”

Spencer rolled his eyes, not wanting to admit she was more correct than he had hoped.

“Ha ha, very funny, Y/n.”

She smiled over her small mug, quirking a brow.

“Oh, I know.”

He shook his head and glanced out the window with a low chuckle, watching as people from all walks of life went about their business, some with dogs, some with children, some of them even walking along with a cup of coffee in their hands, similarly to Spencer and Y/n. Some of them, in fact, had all three.

As the two sat observing, sipping away at their respective concoctions, Y/n spoke up, her voice soft, although considering they were the only two in the shop, it didn’t need to be.

“Spence?”

“Hmm?”

Only then did she tear her glance away from those on the street, her full focus now on Reid. She admired his bone structure, in awe over the way the soft light reflected off his strong jaw and high cheeks. At that moment, he looked like he belonged in the Louvre.

“Thank you.”

“What for?” He finally looked towards her, his hand never moving from where it was positioned under his chin.

She simply shrugged, wrapping her coat tighter around herself.

He darted his eyes to the table and then her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Well, you’re welcome, I guess.”

She smiled and nodded at once, satisfied with his response.

While she looked out the window once more, she began to wonder about those around her. If they felt the same strong emotions that she did, if they held the same hope and desire for the future that she did.

And as she took another sip from her drink, closing her eyes and slowly was drifting off with the sounds of the city, she could only hope that they did.

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

i hope u enjoyed that bc i feel like the imagery in the first paragraph was immaculate 😁 also! i ask that in the reblogs no cussing (and on my blog now in general) is used for personal reasons :) kk luv u bye bb! go take an electronics break and drink some water+ eat some protien (cashews, cheese, whatever ur feeling!)

xx hj 

#that fic has been in my drafts for SO long omg omg it feels so good to get it out #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem #coffee shop au #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #bau #CM #cm x reader #cm fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #mgg #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler angst #mgg x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #mgg x yn

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

Irritation weaved through your limbs, devouring every nerve and cell with no remorse. The only remedy that was available for the virus contaminating your blood sat ahead of you, belittling you with the familiar scent that would tickle your nose whenever the waitress would slip on by. There was a reason you vowed to remain sober for the evening. Ingesting liquor would simply draw out the one emotion you were strategically masking with artificial laughter and twinkling smiles. Your new acquaintances found entertainment in your façade, and they made no inquiry into the truth behind your sarcastic words. For the smile painted across your lips indicated that you were satisfied with their company, they did not have even the slightest inkling of the emotions sickening your core.

Your best friend did, however, catch the tremors in your fingers, and the incessant tapping that sounded underneath the table. Oikawa tried to console you, with exaggerated praise and comedy. The others at the table were consumed by the performance, but your mind would not permit you a moment of peace.

It had been hours since you spoke to your two friends about locating your fiancé. Their silence was uncharacteristic and supplied confirmation that your fiancé did something, or perhaps was going to do something. Something that none of the others would dare to say. This newfound loyalty towards the cook was puzzling to say the least.

But was it really a matter of loyalty…? What could he have done that would compel silence from three of your best friends? Was it that terrible that each of your friends refused to be the bearer of bad news?

With your questions unanswered, the only option was to forget they existed.  

Curling your fingers around the stem of the glass, the cold liquid was brought to your lips, earning you cheers from your new friends. The chocolate shavings defeated the bitterness your throat had craved, yet you were thankful for the weight the alcohol had lifted from your shoulders.

One drink turned into two, then three… and then four. When you endeavoured to order a fifth, Oikawa intercepted, swapping your glass with his. Instead of abiding with his request to sober-up, you scooped out an ice cube from the water glass then flicked it at Francisco.

“What was that for?”

“Well, Juliana said you were too hot, so I thought I’d cool you down.” The words were purred out slowly and followed by a half-hearted wink.

“Y/n, you know that’s not how it works.” Oikawa contemplated apologizing on your behalf, but your antics did not seem to phase the model.

“Shh, I don’t wanna hear your voice.” A single finger was pressed against the setter’s mouth, which twitched into a pout. Turning your attention away from him, you pressed yourself against the table edge, then leaned forward, dropping your voice to a whisper. “You guys know my best friends are more loyal to my fiancé than they are to me?”

“Y/n…” Guilt twisted into a dagger that planted directly inside of Oikawa’s heart. He was keeping this secret for you, not for the damn cook. He knew that come tomorrow; the younger Miya’s presence would replace the pain circling your thoughts with happiness. That was all he wanted. Your happiness. But he should have known this would backfire, patience was not your strong suit.

“I don’t think that’s true, y/n. I saw your social media. These guys care a lot about you.” Francisco countered after witnessing the grief in the setter’s eyes. From their limited interaction, the model was able to pick up on certain things – he knew the bond between you and Oikawa ran deeper than any friendship he could claim to have. He was envious of your relationship, really. And he also knew that it was the liquor that prompted your allegations, not the truth.

“Nope,” Popping your P’s, you shook your head. “Only Hajime cares about me. He’s the only one who is loyal to me! Isn’t that right, Tooru?” Both of your eyebrows were provided a taunting lift, but you knew he would never admit to a lie.

“You know it’s not.” The protest was exhaled softly, at this point the correct decision would be to confess where your fiancé was. However, when he opened his mouth to supply you the information, you ripped your gaze away from him then declared your own answer to the question posed.

“No, I don’t. What I do know is that I have a phone call to make.”

As you stepped away from the table, the setter groaned out your name, in hope to stop you. When he realized you would likely refuse to return, he removed a few bills from his wallet then placed it on the table.  

“Thanks for inviting us. Sorry, my sweet little y/n gets a little emotional when she drinks. But it’s time we head out anyway.” Despite the worry lines etching into his delicate features, he presented them a departing smile. Juliana practically choked on her drink at the sight.  

“No need to apologize to us. We had a good time. I hope things work out between y/n and her fiancé. She really does love him.” Francisco lifted his glass, accompanying the motion with a nod of acknowledgement. To Oikawa’s surprise, there was not even a hint of malice underlying his comments. 

“Yeah she sure does.” Laughter spilled from the setter’s lips as he mumbled a repeated farewell. He sincerely hoped that Osamu loved you just as much.

**

The phone call you were referring to during your dramatic exit was meant for Iwaizumi. With the alcohol amplifying your emotions, you needed the trainer’s soft reassurances. You needed someone in your corner. Yet, your plan did not go unaltered. Battered by the icy breeze roaming the streets, you were stripped of every emotion except one – sorrow.

It should be no surprise that the person you elected to call was no longer Iwaizumi. The number you had dialed went straight to voicemail, though the pre-recorded greeting almost successfully tricked your intoxicated senses. When the beep signalled for you to begin, a deep breath was inhaled to prepare your lungs for the lengthy rant that would commence.

“Let me just say… it is seriously rude that you are ignoring me when you were the one desperate to talk that day. I even tried to keep my promise to Shin… I hate you. I hate you so damn much. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you... I hate that I can’t stop loving you.” A pause was administered only when the liquid glazing over your eyes completely distorted your vision. Aggressively, you discarded the tears, smudging the mascara coating your eyelashes in the process. 

“I hate that I miss your stupid face. It’s the stupidest face ever… I can’t believe you hurt me and then ghosted me! Get the fuck out of here, dude.” To help ease the strain now entering your temples, you pressed your fingers against your forehead in a soothing manner. 

“Don’t ask me why I called you dude. I don’t know… But you and I are going to fight. That’s how we’re going to settle this now. No more talking. You better be ready punk, when I see you, it’s on.”

You would have added some additional threats if Oikawa had not snatched the phone out of your grasp, immediately clicking the end button.

“You’ve had a lot of fun this evening, haven’t you? Come on. It’s time to go home.”  

Let’s do it again, shall we - sus-kawa

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A/N: lmao that voicemail is going to be a great landing present for osamu. 

taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa @yourstarvic @bringmelily @newfriendjen  @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna @momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111 @yqshirov @haikyuufairy @volleybloop @bloody-bella @4fterh0urs @seikamuzu @namyari  @toaster-stick @coconut-dreamz @roseestuosity @prcttylittlcthing @uzumakioden​ @nerdynstoned @kenmasgameboy @unstableye @ouijaeater15​ @aquariarose​ @fandomtrashpandasposts​ @helloalex80​ @stfucanunot​ @envyusshades​ @cuddlesslut​ @seijohiseliterambles​  @meiikuki​ @cuddlejeongin​ @tchalameme​ @ditu-m9​ @elianetsantana​

Taglist continued in the comments from my personal  ❣️

#osamu x reader #osamu smau #osamu x you #osamu scenario #hq osamu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #osamu miya #miya osamu

[ronans-sepiaphotograph]

I'm totally and completely bothered by the fact that there's not enough Kaz and Wylan content so as a book junkie I'm compelled to create my own-

Kaz and Wylan, our resident scheming faces and painting:

Wylan Van Eck may not be the loudest or the most outspoken of the Crows but he was observant.

So he knew who exactly was knocking on the door on the mansion just a while after Jesper had left to get the guns serviced.

Wylan was about to start working on a new canvas when he heard the door being knocked upon as he was walking towards his room.

Kaz Brekker stood in his glory, all suit, hat and his cane as Wylan opened the door.

"Hello Kaz" "Hey merchling" "I'm painting in my room"

Kaz walked through the doors as Wylan told him where he was going. It was not a schedule but it was definitely a schedule.

Wylan would paint and Kaz would silently watch him as they quietly talked, and it helped with Jesper absent sometimes because Wylan and Kaz were both not the greatest when it came to being chatty. Sure Jesper was great company, but sometimes they wanted the quiet.

Kaz walked through and over to Wylan's room with Wylan in tow and sat on his regular seat. Yes Wylan had a seat dedicated for Kaz to sit. It definitely made Wylan more nervous as Kaz watched him.

"how are things at the slat?" "Fine, it's too noisy" "you can come over here anytime you know?" "I know"

Wylan was nervous as he pulled out the package. He had been working on it for a while now. And it was scary that Kaz would be receiving it. He didn't even know whether he would like it or not.

It was a small box, and inside were six little canvases for all of them. Wylan knew Kaz often picked up little paintings he did, thinking Wylan wouldn't notice. But then Wylan would see them tucked away in his office mantle.

So Wylan had this idea of making something for Kaz. One canvas for a Crow, a member of his family. A Crow's head (Kaz), a Knife (Inej), Waffles (Nina), a white wolf (Matthias), a revolver (Jesper) and finally a flute (Wylan). He had spent hours on the little things and Jesper had found small ornamental frame to put them into. Wylan had packed them.

He was trembling and blushing by the time he slid the package over to Kaz, who was watching him with narrowed eyes.

"what's this?" "I know you take paintings from my room so I made these for you"

Kaz gave him a look and proceeded to open it, his gloved hands neatly unwrapping it. He gave Wylan a soft smile as he looked through them. He was blushing harder now.

"Do you like them?" "One of each of us" "yeah" "Thanks Wy"

The nickname made his eyes water and he looked away, wiping his eyes. Kaz tapped his cane on the floor and Wylan immediately snapped his head up. The smile was there, faint yet present.

"why are you crying?" "Nothing, just happy tears"

Kaz put the box back and sat as Wylan left to get them waffles and coffee. He had ice-cream since he was the only one besides Inej who knew Kaz had a sweet tooth. He didn't tell anyone because he prized his life.

"do you want to try your hand at painting?" "Me?" Kaz looked confused at the question as Wylan nodded. He bit into his waffle as Kaz silently thought.

"Scheming face" "I heard that" Kaz smirked at him as Wylan blushed.

"okay then, I don't think I have the skills like you do" "I'm not skilled, it's one the few things that I'm good at. And besides without these I'm wor-"

He was interrupted as the end of Kaz's cane was jabbing into his chest. Kaz glared, enough to remind him that he was still the Dirtyhands, even if Wylan looked up to him.

"you sure you want to complete that sentence Wylan?" Wylan shook his head. "Then let's get painting"

He nodded as Kaz got up and shifted closer to the desk as Wylan found them canvased to paint on. He got water and brushes and paints and rags. He got one of the old shirts for Kaz to wear.

"wear this, won't want to spoil your suit" "always the observant one" "I heard that" "I wanted you to"

Wylan turned away as Kaz proceeded to remove his coat and turned back again when Kaz prodded him. He thought he heard a chuckle escape Kaz bit probably though he was dreaming. He opened the windows fully so he could see the gardens below and the sea. It was Blue and pristine and there were seagulls flying in the sky.

Wylan squeezed out paint as Kaz made his scheming face again as he looked through the plethora of brushes Wylan had.

"How do your even choose which one to use Wy?" Wylan chuckled as Kaz gave him a look. "You should decide what you want to paint. I usually just paint the sea on the garden on sunny days and then something from memory when the days are gloomy" "the sea sounds okay*

He helped Kaz pick a brush and then pushed a palette full of paint towards Kaz as he sat beside him, maintaining enough distance. He chuckled when he saw Kaz fumble. He figured if was probably because of the gloves that he was struggling to hold the brush properly.

"I think it's the gloves that are making it difficult" Kaz scowled at him and Wylan shut up, why had he even voiced out loud? "Sorry, I didn't mean to. It'll be fine, give it a bit of time and you'll adjust"

Kaz ignored him as he thought about it. After a silent moment lapsed, he removed the glove from his hand. It came as a surprise and Wylan didn't know whether he had the right to watch so he just looked at his blank canvas. Kaz cleared his throat.

"it's much better now" "Kaz you didn't have to, I'm sorry" "It's for my own convenience and you were right, this feels much better.

Another one of Kaz Brekker's rare smiles.

Wylan smiled at him as he got to painting himself. Kaz busied himself with watching the sea and the dipping his brush in the paint. Wylan was going to paint the sea today, just with the added memory of one particular shil sailing and floating in it. The sea always made him miss Inej terribly.

Kaz groaned beside him as he dropped the brush down and leaned back and slumped in his seat. It was rare to see Kaz so out of his comfort zone.

"How do you even do this Wy?" "It has always been my escape, when I used to stay with Jan Van Eck and try to read and write. Don't think when you're painting that's all" "that's difficult" "for you, definitely"

Kaz glared as Wylan chuckled, blushing again. Kaz had draw strokes of Blue in various shades. It wasn't bad but it was evident that Kaz had no experience painting before. He gently prodded Kaz to pick up and try again, suggesting to just think about what he was trying to paint. Kaz huffed as he picked up his brush again. Wylan noticed that he held the brush a little awkwardly which would not help at all and make Kaz more irritated and without a thought put his hand over Kaz's, briefly touching as he adjusted the brush in Kaz's fingers.

And then the realisation hit.

Wylan was going to be murdered today, in his own house, by the person he had begun to consider a best friend.

Wylan trembled and pulled his hand away but Kaz turned to him and glared daggers that made him freeze. Yep, definitely going to get murdered, he thought.

"Don't you dare move Wylan"

And because he was going to get murdered he pulled his hand away and literally ran. But Kaz was quick because obviously as Wylan felt the cane latch into his shoulder, causing him to trip. He stood frozen, not daring to turn around.

"Wylan, turn around right now" he didn't. "I won't repeat" He turned around.

Kaz stood, gloved hands on his cane as he looked at Wylan.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-" "stop talking"

Wylan did. He felt red and not all over as he felt his eyes water. Kaz put his hand forward and Wylan prepared to die but then Kaz just squeezed his shoulder. Wylan's knees gave out as he sank to the floor, on his knees. He felt his tears drop. Kaz sat down beside him. He didn't dare open his eyes.

"Wy?" "Yeah?" "Look at me?"

He opened his eyes and looked at Kaz. He expected to see anger, hatred and every hateful emotion in the coffee brown of Kaz's eyes but there was nothing. Kaz was looking at him, face devoid of expression.

"It took me by surprise because it's been a while since that had happened" "I was thinking Kaz I'm-" "Let me finish. But you don't have to worry. It just caught me by surprise that's all. And I know you didn't do on purpose, I know you would never Wy. You're our observant demo expert. You know these things better than others" "okay. I'm still sorry, I'll make sure it never happens again" "okay. It felt weird though, like a funny weird, feeling that again"

This time Kaz did let out a brief chuckle. Wylan blushed. Had Kaz Brekker just chuckled? Had Wylan just made him laugh?

Wylan looked at him, wide-eyed and in shock as Kaz got up and hauled Wylan up. He then surprised him by giving Wylan a brief side hug. Wylan was going to die of happiness today. The reason? Kaz Brekker.

"You trust me?" "That's a very stupid question Wylan"

Wylan gave a him and Kaz nodded while sipping on his coffee. Obviously I do, he meant. Wylan smiled as he wiped his eyes.

He then carefully showed Kaz how to hold the brush properly so could paint with ease and soon they were painting in silence, except for the music of the birds chirping and the trees rustling outside. Wylan smeared strokes of Blue's and Grey's and then a ship appeared on his canvas, The Wraith in all her glory.

He watched Kaz sometimes, who had apparently gotten the hang of it. He looked so out of place yet at home. Kaz Brekker painting with Wylan in his room, surrounded by art supplies, Wylan would never forget this day.

Jesper had knocked on the door a bell ago but Kaz had refused to let him inside and Wylan left to greet him with a kiss

"Wylan Van Sunshine have you dumped me for Kaz?" Wylan slapped his arm "Of course not, we're just painting and Kaz, well doesn't want to be disturbed" "Ghezen's sake Kaz is painting?" "Yes, with me" "what did you do to him Wylan?" "Shut up, we'll be done in a while. Will you please wait for us in the dining room?" Wylan made puppy eyes and Jesper responded by kissing him briefly before he disappeared and Wylan was back to his canvas. It took him some time more to finish adding the details to The Wraith. Kaz was done before him and was watching him as usual which made Wylan nervous.

"you know Kaz? You make me nervous by staring like that while I paint?" "It's amusing to see the experts at work"

Wylan blushed again as Kaz cleaned up his desk and Wylan followed. Their paintings were put on the Easel to dry. Kaz's was an abstract things but it was beautiful nonetheless, a clash of blues and beige's and whites. It looked just like the sea. Wylan smiled as he put the canvases to dry.

Jesper was waiting for them in the dining room for lunch as they sat down. He was grinning at both of them.

"So Kaz, did you have fun painting? Wylan's face suggests you did" "Don't push it Jes" "Hah! That's means you did! I wi have to tell Inej that Kaz Brekker has found a new pasttime with Wylan Van Sunshine!"

Kaz threatened him with a knife but Jesper just laughed. They had lovely lunch and Jesper disappeared again to practice with his revolvers.

Kaz was leaving as Wylan handed him his hat again. Wylan saw the shirt peeking from under Kaz's coat but said nothing.

"See you Kaz" "I want to paint again Wy" "Really?" "yes really" "okay, whenever you want"

Kaz gave him a small smile again as he waved Wylan goodbye and left for the Slat again. He didn't forget to take the gift Wylan had made for him.

The next day when Wylan went to his office regarding work about the Council, he saw all six of the canvases promptly put on the mantle, besides one of his own paintings.

"They look good" was all Kaz said. Wylan's day was made.

#yes kaz and wylan supremacy #kaz might be slightly ooc in this but idc i just want him to be comfortable #kaz brekker smiling with be the death of me yes #six of crows #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #wesper #leigh bardugo #inej ghafa #nina zenik #matthias helvar #pratt posts

[infinitevariety]

The husbands meet Donna Noble

It’s taken me a while to get around to writing this, but please know I’ve loved this idea since the moment you sent it to me, anon. Thank you.

————————————————–

Donna is flicking through her copy of Hello! Magazine and getting the latest gossip on the Wagatha Christie drama when they walk into the cafe. They’re hard to miss. A stiff but friendly-looking blond man in a smart, pale, but outdated suit enters first, and Donna can’t help but notice the way the lighting in the cafe brightens up as he steps through the door. He is quickly followed by a long streak of a man dressed in black with vibrant red hair, who seems slightly out of breath.

“There’s no need to rush. They won’t have sold out of angel cake,” says the redhead as he catches up.

“You never know, my dear. The afternoon rush can decimate the dessert counter,” replies the blond, who is already eyeing the puddings on display.

Donna feels a small pang of guilt as she gazes down the crumbs on her plate—she’d ordered the last slice of angel cake 10 minutes ago.

A snapping noise catches Donna’s attention and she looks back up at the pair by the counter.

“There, see,” says the redhead, “plenty of angel cake.”

The blond man just hums and shoots a glance at his companion.

Donna frowns, but shrugs it off. The cafe obviously restocked the angel cake with more from the back. However, her frown returns when blondie orders a slice of angel cake and a sticky toffee pudding oat milk hot chocolate—Donna knows that’s not on the menu. She’s been coming to this cafe for months. While they have an array of cold drinks in the fridge, the only hot drinks they offer are bog standard tea, coffee, and hot chocolate.

She continues to watch the pair warily over the top of her magazine. She sees the redhead pay for their order by flashing a sleek, black credit card with no details on it. She sees blondie smile at him in thanks as he grabs a clean and fancy-looking newspaper from the rack that contained only months-old magazines and tatty tabloid newspapers when Donna walked in. She sees them look around for a table to find them all occupied… just before the woman on the table next to Donna’s suddenly gets up to go. The woman leaves a half-drunk cup of coffee behind, but the strange couple don’t seem to mind as they slip into the seats at the newly-vacated table.

When their order is brought over blondie folds his posh paper and pushes it aside. Donna spies the name—Celestial Observer—but she’s never heard of it. While blondie immediately tucks into his angel cake and sticky toffee pudding oat milk hot chocolate, the redhead simply sits. He has his elbow on the tabletop and his chin resting in his open palm. He has sunglasses on, but Donna can tell he is watching his companion.

While the redhead watches blondie, Donna watches the redhead. There is something about him, Donna is sure. The line of his jaw, the set of his mouth… he seems so familiar.

“Do I know you?” The words leave Donna’s mouth before she’d even consciously thought them.

The redhead looks up at her, head panning left and right for a second, before fixing back on Donna.

“Sorry, what?” he says.

“I recognise you… have we meet before?”

The blond man has slowed down his eating and is now staring across the table at the redhead watchfully.

The redhead pushes out his lips and shakes his head mildly. “Nah, don’t think so.”

“Oh,” says Donna, “okay, sorry.”

With a shrug the redhead turns back to the blond man. They exchange a few words in a hurried whisper so quiet Donna doesn’t catch what they’re saying.

Still, she can’t tear her eyes away from the man. The red hair is all wrong. She doesn’t know why, but she’s sure of it. Must be a dye job. Donna wishes she could see his eyes. She knows if she saw them she would be able to imagine them lit up with joy or full of sadness.

She knows she knows this man.

Then the man leans his head back and the lights of the cafe reflect like dots in the lens of his sunglasses. Donna sees it so clearly, then, just for a second. Space. Plants and vastness and nebulae and—

“Stars,” she mutters out loud to herself. She shakes her head, an ache coming on in her temples.

The sound of cutlery clattering draws her attention back to the table beside her. Blondie has dropped his knife and fork and is turned, looking directly at Donna.

“Terribly sorry, young lady, what did you say?” he asks. The politeness does nothing to hide the shock on his face.

“Nothing, really,” starts Donna. “It’s just…” She turns to the redhead again. “…I can picture you in space, surrounded by stars. It’s weird.”

The redhead opens his mouth, but instead of words he blusters out an incomprehensible series of sounds. While he flounders, the blond man turns to look at his friend, eyes even wider.

“Crowley,” says blondie in a harsh whisper that easily carries. “how could she know?”

“Know what?” asks Donna immediately.

“Know that I—” The redhead, Crowley, hurries to answer. “I—work at the planetarium!” He nods, happy with his answer. “Yeah, you probably saw me giving a talk.”

Donna is almost certain she’s never been to the planetarium. She couldn’t even tell you where it is. But she decides to play along. “Riiight, yeah, must be that.”

A wide, friendly smile breaks out over the blond man’s face and the Crowley chap physically deflates with obvious relief. Donna isn’t as easily mollified. She picks her magazine back up, but continues to keep an eye on the pair of them.

As she watches them, Donna notes that no matter how deeply blondie drinks from his mug, he never seems to finish his sticky toffee pudding oat milk hot chocolate. She also notices that the busy pavement outside clears of people when Crowley turns to gaze out of the window.

Donna continues to wonder where she’s really seen Crowley before. She wants to ask more questions. But she also doesn’t want to up and leave, abandoning her half-read magazine behind. Which is what she instinctively knows will happen if she pushes further. There is something very odd about this peculiar pair, and while Donna is sure Crowley does not work at the planetarium she decides, on balance, to leave it alone.

The ache in her temples begins to ease as soon as she lets go of her curiosity.

Donna decides to go, lest she spot anything else too strange. She pointedly folds her magazine and slips it in her handbag, throwing the bag over her shoulder. She makes it two steps towards the door before she is compelled to spin back around.

Crowley is already looking at her. She throws him a grin, pleased to see a small smile in return. She doesn’t know why she says it, just as she turns to leave, but the words slip out easily...

“See you, spaceman.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fic #donna noble #doctor who #i wrote this #anon #ask #ask me things

[lovemalecforever]

Chapter 20

The Sins I've done.

The warm lights of the sun fell on Magnus' exposed body making him stir in his sleep. He fluttered his eyes open and found himself wrapped in the cage of his husband's arms. A light smile played on his lips. He looked at him who was looking heavenly, the rays of sun-soaking his body was making him glow. His pale skin was shining brightly in a shade of gold.

"Stop staring, love," Alec said in his morning husky voice, then slowly opened his eyes. The shade of red creeping over his warlock's face was beautiful. He smiled and kissed those red cheeks.

"Morning, love."

"Good Morning! How long were you awake?"

"Not long, but I was enjoying the feeling of holding my husband in my arms."

Magnus pouted. "Not fair!"

Alec chuckled and kissed his warlock softly tasting his morning breath, the one he loves so much.

"I'm going to make breakfast for us, you go get freshen up till then," Alec said and kissed him again.

"Okay!" The warlock whispered softly. The feeling he was having was really weird for him. Everything was looking so heavenly and right. So calming. It was scary, it felt like the calm before the storm. He eventually got up and left for the bathroom.

Alec got up too and left for the kitchen. He prepared a breakfast of pancakes, two fried eggs, crispy bacon, butter toast, a bowl of diced fruits, a glass of orange juice for Magnus, and a cup of coffee for himself. Just as he was placing everything on the tray, his husband walked into the kitchen.

As usual, Magnus was looking beautiful. His clothes were not as bright as his usual clothes, but they suited him really well. He was wearing a simple dark blue button-down shirt with black pants, the jewelry was minimal and he was barefoot for now.

He walked towards the coffee table where Alec had placed their breakfast and they sat on their respective chairs eating in comfortable silence until Alec broke it.

"Hey, love. I have to leave early today, I have some important work scheduled and I can't miss it. I'll try to be back early though. Are you okay with it?"

Magnus nodded. He knew his shadowhunter had duties. He can't complain about it or force him to stay. So he didn't say much.

After finishing the rest of the breakfast in silence, Alec quickly got dressed up and was ready to leave. While he was getting dressed up he noticed that Magnus was standing in front of the mirror looking at himself with a blank expression on his face. He quickly got dressed up then walked towards his husband and hugged him from behind.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He asked and kissed him on top of his head.

Magnus looked at his husband from the mirror, his eyes were hazy but he didn't know why. He relaxed a little when the grip of his shadowhunter's arms tightened around his waist.

"Nothing, just feeling a little low. I.. I want you to stay but I know you have to go to work." He looked down at the floor.

"Hey!" Alec started and turned his husband towards him, then put his fingers below his chin and tilted his head upwards, and kissed him on the bridge of his nose. Magnus slowly lifted his eyes and looked at him. "I'm sorry, Mags. I want to stay too, but I have some important work today. I promise I'll be back as soon as possible. And if you're feeling low, just rest okay? I'll be home as soon as I can, okay?"

Magnus hugged his husband tightly and rested his head on his chest. He felt his husband's lips on top of his head. "Okay, Alexander. Just, please come home soon."

"I'll come home soon only if you let me go, love."

Magnus broke the hug and looked at his shadowhunter, his eyes were glossy again. He didn't know what was happening, but he didn't like it. Alec wrapped his hands around Magnus' neck and kissed him passionately.

"Bye, Mags, I'll see you in the evening."

Magnus said goodbye and watched his shadowhunter leaving the loft. He sighed. Everything seemed weird today.

____________________________________

Magnus spent the whole day dealing with frustrating clients, watching boring TV shows, and summoning some Italian food for lunch. It was already 5:30 and he was waiting for his husband to arrive. He was lying down on the couch going through stupid mundane shows when the doorbell rang. His face lit up, he waved his hands and opened the door. As soon as he saw the person his happiness turned into anger.

"What are you doing here? How are you here in the first place and how were you able to break my wards?"

"Oh my love, so many questions. Relax. You blocked my number so I thought visiting you would be best. Aren't you surprised to see me?"

"No, I'm not Camille Belcourt. I'm asking again, how are you here?"

"I have my way, Magnus. I'm a vampire if you're forgetting."

"No, I'm not." He said coldly. "How did you break my wards?"

"Oh, Magnus." She smirked, "It's not hard to compel your clients, you know."

Magnus looked at her wide-eyed. "You.... encanto'd my regular client. That's why my wards... what do you want Camille?"

"I already told you, Magnus!" As she started walking towards him, Magnus quickly stood up and tried to back away from her but she used her vampiric powers and pinned him down on the couch and her pointed fingers on his face. "I want you."

"Get your hands off me, Camille."

"Why so bitter Magnus? Didn't you enjoy our time? Why am I even asking, did you kiss me yourself the first time Magnus. Willingly." She smirked.

Tears formed in Magnus' eyes remembering it. "That was a mistake. I hate you with every fiber of my being, Camille Belcourt!" He spat.

"No, you don't, my love." Using her vampiric strength, she pinned him down on the couch and got on top of him. Magnus tried to resist but it went in vain. She stroked his face with her pointed nails and looked him directly in the eyes. Her pupils became larger and wider. "You love me and only me. You want me. I'm your only true love, Magnus."

Magnus tried to resist the encanto but he failed. He didn't know what was wrong with him today. His lips moved automatically. "I love you."

"That's better, my love. Kiss me now, Magnus."

Even though Magnus didn't want to do any of it, his body didn't seem to be in control of him. He felt weak and useless. His lips automatically moved, brushing with her blood-red ones.

Camille smirked in between the kiss. When they broke the kiss, she looked directly into his eyes again with her larger dull black eyes. "Tell me, Magnus, you're doing it willingly?"

"No!"

"Wrong!" She focused on his tear-filled brown eyes again. "You're doing it willingly, my love. This is not encanto, you're doing everything of your free will. You love me and only me. You want to explore every part of my body. Make love to me Magnus. Just the way we used to do."

Magnus nodded against his will. He was in total control of that vampire. Camille smiled viciously. She licked her fangs and looked at the sweet warlock beneath her. She unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt and started kissing him on the neck. When she found the perfect vein, she buried her fangs into it drawing out his blood, and started drinking it. Magnus let out a gasp. He was feeling weak, powerless, and disgusted. He didn't want to do any of it but he felt helpless.

"Make love to me, Magnus." She said again and kissed him hungrily on his lips. She grabbed his shirt and using her vampiric strength and powers she changed their position so that Magnus was on top of her. Magnus leaned down and kissed her again, trailing down towards her jaw and neck. She let out a low moan. "That's right, my love. Just like that. I ask you again, Magnus, are you doing it willingly?"

"Yes, yes I'm doing it willingly." He said and continued with the kisses. Even though he knew it was wrong, he wanted to say no, but he had lost total control of himself. He felt disgusted.

"Look at me, my love." She smirked when he followed. "Remove your wedding and promise rings and throw them away."

Magnus's heart skipped a beat. He hesitated. He didn't want to do that. He tried to back away but she gripped him tightly. She looked him in the eyes and focused on them, her own going completely dull black leaving no whites in it. "I'm saying it again, my love, remove your wedding and promise rings and throw them away. And you're doing it willingly."

Magnus looked like he had seen a ghost. Her eyes going completely black when using encanto was really rare for a vampire. It indicated how dark and dangerous vampires are. She had never shown it before which only meant that turning back into a vampire had made her more vicious than before. He obliged to her immediately.

He took out his rings from the finger, the rings which meant so much to him, the thin platinum ring engraved with black lining, that was the promise ring; the Lightwood ring which Alec wanted to propose from and he turned out to be the one proposing; and finally his wedding ring, it was a beautiful diamond ring but the Lightwood ring mattered to him more.

He looked at them, he didn't want to throw them away but his body and mind weren't in his control at all. He fisted them in his hand and threw them on the floor, he didn't see where they landed. Guilt was building too strongly inside him.

Camille smiled devilishly. Her eyes were still the same and they were really scary. "That's better. I don't want them on you. Now, my love, remove our clothes and make love to me, hardly and roughly."

Magnus obliged. He removed his shirt and Camille's single strapped crimson crop top, which had black embroidery all over it, revealing her blood-red tube bra. "Remove them all, my love." She said smirking, her eyes never leaving Magnus'.

Magnus obliged again. He removed her bra as well then started kissing her all over, leaving light bruises on her neck and chest. Camille had a constant smirk on her face. He then reached for her midnight black jeans and undid them, then he went for his own pants.

He was halfway through undoing his pants when he heard a loud thud and jumped away from her. He looked at the source of it and what he saw was scarier than Camille's full dull black eyes.

His shadowhunter was standing on the entryway leading to the living room, looking at them with shock. Tears were flowing down his cheeks, and he seemed like he couldn't move. His beautiful hazel eyes were not bright as usual and they were showing heartbreak and regret. Something was scattered on the floor which seemed like a bouquet of flowers and some boxes. It was all too blurry.

Magnus's heart started racing badly. His eyes were too foggy to see anything clearly. This isn't what he wanted, he was himself frozen in his place looking at the heartbroken shadowhunter with pleading eyes.

Camille had a constant sly grin on her face as if she had accomplished what she wanted. Her eyes were back to normal again. She took her clothes and quickly dressed. She looked between both the boys who didn't seem to move from their places. She decided to make her last move. She put her pale hands on Magnus' cheeks and turned his face towards her.

"My love, looks like we're interrupted, we'll continue it later, okay?" Magnus nodded unwillingly. She smirked and got way too close to him then looked him in the eye again and whispered "kiss me, Magnus." Magnus obliged immediately.

He kissed her, despite the fact that he didn't want to, he kept kissing her until she broke it. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the shadowhunter was looking down at the floor, tears were flowing down uncontrollably on his cheeks, his breathing was heavy and it seemed like he was looking at something.

It clicked to him at that moment that he was looking at the rings he had thrown earlier unwillingly. Guilt crept inside him, he never wanted to hurt his shadowhunter, but he did it anyway.

Camille broke the kiss and looked at the nephilim, a wicked grin playing on her lips. She stood up looking at the two men one last time and left.

Magnus was frozen in his place and so was Alec. There was dead silence in the room, an uncomfortable creepy silence. Until Alec finally decided to break it.

"Why Magnus?" He whispered, his voice showing no emotion.

Magnus gulped, hard. "A.. I.." he didn't know why, but he wasn't able to form words, he wanted to scream that he didn't do anything, it was all Camille, she encanto'd him to do things to her against his will, that he was innocent, but words betrayed him. He wasn't able to say what he wanted to. "I... I don't know." That was all he was able to say, a teardrop escaped from his eye and fell on his cheek.

Alec bent down and picked up the rings gently, stroking his fingers softly over them. "You don't know!" He whispered, then looked at his husband. "You don't know why you were about to fuck her!?" He yelled.

Magnus flinched back at the tone his shadowhunter had used, he had never used that tone on him. "A.. Alexander.. please...."

"Please what, Magnus?" He sniffed, he was crying uncontrollably. "Did she do this? Did she encanto'd you? Was it her? Tell me, Magnus? Because, from the way I saw it, it didn't look like that. So, tell me if it was her!"

He wanted to say yes, he wanted to tell him that he'll never do something like that to him, that he was innocent, that Camille manipulated him in a wicked way. He wanted to tell the truth but his mind and body were reacting to the stupid encanto Camille did on him. And he hated that. He wanted to break the encanto but he wasn't able to.

"No, she didn't encanto'd me, I did it willingly. I don't know why, but I did it willingly." He repeated what Camille compelled him to say, and cursed himself when he saw his husband's reaction. He had taken a step backward, constantly looking at the floor, and had a blank expression on his face. His tears didn't seem to stop. His breathing was uneven and heavy.

"Why?" He asked with his trembling voice. "I... I know we've been distant for some time, Magnus. We haven't done it in a long time, but it was because of your health, I didn't want to do something when you were not well. I.. I didn't know you were trying to find pleasure from others behind my back." He sniffed and closed his eyes.

Magnus's breath was caught in his lungs. He wasn't able to breathe. He wanted to scream that his words were not true. That he wasn't able to control his actions. But with what his shadowhunter was saying, he felt like he was talking to his own insecurities. Tears were running down from his own eyes. He wasn't able to speak anymore.

"I loved you, Magnus. Unconditionally. But you.." he sniffed again. "I loved you when you were at your weakest, at your lowest, I loved you when you acted like a child even when you're a 500 years old warlock, I loved you even when others called you monster, I loved you when you had nothing. Then, why Magnus!? Why did you do this to me? Why did you cheat on me?"

Magnus was frozen in his place, listening to the word 'cheating' out loud was making the guilt inside him stronger, his eyes were focused on the floor, not daring to meet his husband's. Tears were flowing down his face. He gulped. He wanted to make his shadowhunter understand that he was under encanto, but he didn't know how. He felt too weak and helpless.

"It's better to die than live like this. I won't be able to live in this pain you've given me, Magnus."

His eyes shot up at that and he finally looked at his husband. His eyes and nose were red from the crying, his fists were clenched so tightly that they were bleeding. He was holding his rings in one fist and his breathing was heavy. His expressions were unreadable.

Magnus felt extremely guilty. He wasn't ready to lose his shadowhunter all over again. "A.. Alexander, p.. please... I'm... I'm sorry-"

"Shut up!" He yelled again, causing Magnus to flinch back. "Just shut up. I'm done with it. I never thought you would do this to me. I loved you, but you, Magnus. All I want to do is die right now. We're done, Magnus. I can't be here anymore. I'm leaving, and don't try to find me, Magnus Bane!" With that being said, he stepped back a few times then stormed out of the apartment, leaving Magnus completely heartbroken and shattered.

"ALEXANDER! NO, NO, NO! STOP! PLEASE!" He fell in his place and started crying uncontrollably. "Stop! Please, stop! Don't leave me, please! Forgive me! Please don't leave me! Please don't!" He kept begging to no one in particular, then after some time he fell unconscious and everything went black.

#asaab #angst with a happy ending #angst #fanfic authors #alec lightwood #fanfiction #lightwood bane family #malec forever #malec fic #fantasy #fanfic #happily married #magnus bane #malec

[sugar-petals]

Would you ever do a tarot reading for shoma?

why not 😊 let’s ask the cards about: his romantic side 🌹and see what they have to say. time for fluff. 

using the classic deck first.

THE EMPRESS: This is a very good card to show up in a romance context. Here we have an archetype that talks about the zest and enjoyment of living and loving, really feeling yourself. You can see how the woman on the card below is shown in all her magnificence. Shoma is definitely gonna live his best life in a relationship, enjoying it to the fullest. THE EMPRESS always shows that the person in question brings beauty and softness to whatever they’re doing, that’s exactly what he will do. It also mirrors how strong his yin is. Shoma is one of the few guys in touch with his feminine side. It’s not slumbering or anxiously suppressed — literally, at all. What others say he’s risen above already, it’s his thing, he owns it. He is very comfortable with that part of him and has mastered bringing it into his daily life. Meaning: Shoma is a harmonious and gentle lover. Good-looking as ever, and sweet as can be, without exuding something weak or less dignified. It’s an empress after all, she got this, and so does Shoma. Now, another traditional interpretation is a connection to pregnancy. So, even if we know that he’s not planning anything of that kind, who knows what the card is trying to tell us here. It can be birth and nurture in a metaphorical sense, mind you. Of a project, something artistic, and that definitely applies to his career. So I count one and one together there, being in a relationship will help Shoma flourish on the ice. He’s really gonna be like yes, here I am. In my full splendor, I run this. Relaxed and sparkling and super sexy. Shoma will be the type who really does a huge personality transformation when a partner enters his life. He gains in confidence and charisma. He’ll be much more outgoing and gets a huge energy boost. You see the empress holding a golden staff and having a golden necklace? That’s no coincidence. Being in love can fuel Shoma to the point of him beating his eternal silver medal streak and climbing first place 😄

i drew an angel card, too:

THE POWER OF ATTRACTION: “Pulling in romantic love by cherishing the moment” — Being grounded in his environment lends Shoma his famous appeal, and that doesn’t just apply to him performing on the ice. Simply dreaming of love is trumped by showing off his all-round athleticism and lust for the many fine things in life, that’s how he can attract someone with ease. Once he shows off that side of him, he has your heart. We all know how Shoma’s fans melt when he does that: He’s compelling and magnetic when he is sensual. Literally: When he focuses on his sense perception. He’s very apt in that regard to begin with, taking the world in with keen eyes and ears, and working his body gracefully to create art. The card knows his strong suit: A skater’s ability to live in the now. The more he taps into that simple philosophy, Shoma will draw someone in. Looking at the card’s image gives it away: A woman smelling roses. She gently immerses her hands between the leaves and buds. That tells me Shoma really blossoms in relationships that are tactile and immediate, and when his partner has something like a e.g. rose-scented perfume, sweet scents really pique his interest and hook him. It could also be vice versa, that he smells really good and uses like the most alluring aftershave ever. An important thing the caption of the card also reveals is that he isn’t the one doing the approaching, and that’s 100% in character going by his strong introversion.

favorite ways of affection, via some self-made oracle cards: 

HOLDING HANDS: Now I see why this card came out, it’s a kind of confirmation — we often see Shoma taken by the hand upon the initiative of his fellow skaters and coaches. He’s easily guided around like that on the ice. We know he has a cute tradition of linking arms with others on the podium as well, count this one in also. So I’m figuring this is a card that talks about him as the receiving end. Shoma enjoys that casual gesture from a partner. Touching the arm is also included in the meaning of the card, so, mark his hands, arms, and shoulders down as sensitive zones that easily signal him a sense of appreciation.

COOKING: Another card that made a lot of sense to me because it verifies what we already see going on. Shoma is a well-known culinary enthusiast. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach: Outdated saying, but in his case, it actually rings true. We saw how much he enjoyed his brother’s self-made meals, going out to restaurants, and attending cooking shows to try out new things. There’s definitely something in it for him, he enjoys everything delicious and well-prepared so much. Surprising Shoma with a special dish is the surefire way to show him love. 

#anon #cub mail 🐅 #tarot reading #figure skating #shoma uno #shoma uno tarot reading

[forever-your-soldat]

I Can't Hurt You

Don't worry about your requests, I'm still doing them. This just popped in my head and I couldn't resist writing it.

Warning: angst, character death, blood, mentions of torture, mind control, suicide(?), violence

Y/n isn't sure what happened. First, she was standing next to Wanda, fighting off the HYDRA agents, but what she, or any of the rest, wasn't expecting was one of the agents would be an enhanced, another one that had powers similar to Wanda, only somehow, he was stronger.

The moment she blinked, the whole field disappeared and she was inside the building. "You are Maximoff's girlfriend, correct?"

She's not sure how or why, but she answers with a nod and a man walks toward her; the enhanced. He's well built, dark brown orbs staring at Y/n with blue swimming behind them.

The man smirked widely but Y/n finds no malice, no anger. She can't move and her mind just focuses on the man. "You know the weaknesses of the Avengers, yes?" Again, she nods, compelled to answer and she doesn't struggle.

The man walks around her, studying her as he unravels her mind, but decides not to delve too deep before he stops a few feet in front of her. "Go back to the jet, go home and hide." He orders. "You won't tell them about me. Wait for my instructions." He tells her and the next time Y/n blinks, she's being shaken frantically, laying on the ground, back in the field with Wanda calling out to her.

The worry on her face causes guilt to flare in her chest, but it diminishes soon while she stands. "We've got to go." She whispers softly, dragging her girlfriend back to the quinjet with her. "Y/n, what's wrong? What happened?"

The brunette had stopped her just as they were about to step on to the jet. Y/n turns her eyes back to Wanda, brows furrowed as she shook her head. "I don't... I don’t know. I just blacked out for some reason." She mumbled confusedly, trying to dig deep in her brain for what could have happened, but she's forced to stop and shakes her head. "Let's go home."

Wanda watches carefully, gripping her girlfriend's hand before she allows them to head back to the jet.

It was weird. She was fine just minutes ago, but when Wanda found her again, she was laying on the floor, yet had no injuries on her.

She seemed shaken up, but aside from that, nothing was out of the ordinary, though she did sense something different in her girlfriend. As much as she tried not to use her powers without permission, there was a strong aura that was surrounding Y/n that she couldn't seem to be familiar with.

As the team headed back, Y/n sat straight, rigid as she looked around, her eyes analyzing each of the Avengers and Wanda's anxiousness was starting to grow.

Usually, Y/n would try to sleep after a tiring mission like that. But right now, she was on edge, as if something was about to come after her if she even dared to blink. Her entire posture was showing that she was still alert even after the battle and it unnerved her girlfriend.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" Sam questioned when he saw the look she was giving her, but she merely squinted and shook her head. "Nothing." She mumbled before going quiet for the whole trip.

The falcon said nothing, shrugging it off as he went to nap before they arrive back to the tower.

Natasha was able to sense something wrong, too. Her observation skills picked up on Y/n's sudden change of behavior. She would check for exits and then to the team. Her fingers twitched every now and then as much as she tried to keep them still.

She and Wanda shared a look, but the young witch only shook her head at the question she wanted to ask.

When they get back to the tower, Y/n wastes no time in hurrying to her room, ignoring the weird look from Steve and the comment made by Tony when she just passed by them.

"What's up with her?" Bucky asked in confusion but no one was able to answer him. Sam just shrugged while Steve shook his head. "Probably just tired. She'll be fine after sleeping it off." Tony waved dismissively then excused himself to head for the lab.

Wanda was going to go after Y/n, hoping to talk to her, but Natasha stopped her, wrapping a hand around her wrist before pulling her aside. The younger woman saw the look on the spy's face before she asked. "You were closer, can you tell me what happened out there?"

Wanda could only sigh as she rubbed her arm. "I'm not sure. She was fine, and when I turned away for a few minutes, she was suddenly on the floor. She wasn't responding for a good five minutes and just stared at nothing. Almost like..."

She had trailed off, the memories of what she did the first time she encountered the team flashing in her mind. "Like when you made us see our fears."

Natasha's eyes fell to the floor, brows knitted in concentration as she tried to understand how that was possible. "Go check on her and try to see what's in her head."

Wanda's eyes widened at the order. "But I can't-"

"I know. But right now, it's for precautions, and I'm giving you permission to do so. You're not going to hurt her. Just try and see what's going on in her head." Natasha explained, giving the young witch a meaningful look and she hesitantly agrees, biting her lip when she's finally let go and went to look for her girlfriend.

Her mind is buzzing. It wasn't possible for Y/n to be under her power. She's never done that. She's been in control for years. But she was sure that there was something there.

Carefully opening the door, Wanda peers inside, being quiet as to not startle Y/n. She finds her, sitting on the floor, by the bed with her knees pulled up to her chest and the sight breaks Wanda's heart to see the woman she loves curled up, looking small to the whole world.

She was immediately by her side, arms wrapped tightly around her. "I'm here. You're okay." She whispered softly into her ear when Y/n leaned into her. "Something's coming after me."

Of anything Y/n could have told her, this was not one of them. Being trained in SHIELD, she was never one to fear the people after her or anything else. She was careful, yes, but not afraid. So hearing her now, admitting that something was there in a voice that only held fear and desperation made her worries increase tenfold.

They both stayed like that for majority of the night. When Y/n finally allowed herself to fall asleep, Wanda carried her to bed, tucking her in before she looked at her face, brushing her hair off her face before she cupped her cheek, caressing it with the pad of her thumb before her powers slowly manifested and her eyes glowed red.

But when she tried to search her mind, something was pushing her out. She gasped as she was forced out and flinched as she pulled away. Her eyes scanned over her girlfriend’s sleeping face before she slowly got up, not wanting to wake her, before she silently escaped the room and searched for Natasha or Tony.

But in Y/n’s head, she was back in the HYDRA base, standing in the middle of the room with the enhanced seated before her. He was looking around whilst Y/n watched him. She stood a few feet away, almost like a guard, making sure the man would be safe.

“It’s nearly midnight.” He mused and Y/n followed his gaze, though unable to see the time on his watch. He then lifted his eyes, the almost black irises flashing and he grinned darkly.

“Kill them. Annihilate the threats to HYDRA.” He ordered and Y/n’s whole body grew rigid before she gave him a curt nod.

“Hail HYDRA.”

The moment Y/n’s eyes open, she knows that she’s alone. The room was cold and the door was cracked open. She rose from the bed and reached inside her nightstand to grab her guns and knives. She changed her clothes and grabbed a dark colored jacket before she slipped out of the room. She made sure that no one would be able to see her, keeping check on the corridors and using vacant rooms in case someone was around. She made a detour to the armory and grabbed one of Bucky’s riffles and a few bombs, tucking them safely in her pants whilst the riffle slung over her shoulder.

She had to draw them out. And she knew exactly how to do it.

When she exited the Avenger’s tower, she surveyed the area before she went over to the blind spot at the side of the tower, planting the bombs there then hiding so she won’t be seen when they go outside.

The moment the bombs go off, she hears the ruckus and she prepares the riffle. Tony is first to arrive, dressed in his suit and checking the damages. Steve and Natasha are there soon after, then Wanda.

She’s panicking. When the explosion went off, she went to look for Y/n, but she wasn’t there. Y/n takes the first shot, aimed at Natasha because Tony would be difficult to handle due to that damn suit of his and Steve would be able to shield himself.

Even if Natasha was quick, she knows how to attack her. The moment the first bullet goes, another two follow and one of them manages to hit her shoulder, making her grunt. Steve quickly reacts, trying to locate where the attacks are coming from and Tony finds her heat signature through FRIDAY.

“Y/n, what the hell?” He yells in disbelief. But she doesn’t respond and all eyes are on her as she jumps down from her hiding spot and opens fire. The first is aimed for Natasha again, then to Steve.

Bucky is running outside with Sam later on. Their eyes widened to see the cause of the problem, but they aren’t given a chance to say anything as she starts shooting at them. “What the fuck?” Sam yells when he goes off the ground, glancing at Tony.

“Y/n, what is going on?” Steve demanded, not wanting to hurt the woman. Her face is void of emotion and soon. she’s throwing another bomb at them.

Wanda makes a shield in front of her and Natasha. Bucky is luckily far enough to avoid getting hurt while Steve uses his shield for cover. But the moment he’s distracted is enough for Y/n as she runs at him, disarming him and tackling him to the ground before she throws punches right at his face.

It dazes him the first few times, but on the fourth, he snaps back before he tries to wrestle his way out of her hold. Tony makes a warning shot near her, but she doesn’t relent, only swiping out another gun and aiming at him; his arc reactor.

When he realized it, it was a second too late and he starts falling. Sam quickly goes after him, catching him before he crashes to the ground. Y/n has jumped away from Steve at this moment, not aiming her gun at Sam and she manages to shoot at his wings with pinpoint accuracy.

“Y/n, stop! We don’t want to hurt you!” Bucky shouted at her, but she was continuing her assault on Sam’s back, each bullet hitting the jets on his back and Natasha moves despite the pain on her shoulder and Bucky jumps in front of Sam, using his metal arm to deflect the bullets.

Natasha aims for Y/n, trying to read her pattern, but she finds none. If they weren’t on opposing teams, she would have been proud. But right now, Y/n was being a problem for the team and she needs to top.

Steve is back on his feet, his cheek bruising and a cut was on his lip. “Why are you doing this?” He asks her and her dull eyes meet his for a brief moment.

“You are a threat.”

Those words struck confusion to them all. “What are you-”

“You’ve been a problem to HYDRA. You need to be terminated.” Their eyes widened and Natasha looks at Wanda in alert. “She’s under their control. But how?” Bucky questioned when he readied his riffle, keeping Y/n in his range but refusing to fire.

Tony grunts from where he’s laying. “FRIDAY, check for her brainwaves.” He muttered and the AI makes a small noise. He watches when Y/n fires at Steve again and she’s dodging the attacks that Bucky has trained on her legs. He was trying to immobilize her without hurting her too much, but she was quick on her feet.

Natasha is able to get close enough with Steve’s help, disarming her and thinking that it would be better to fight her in hand to hand combat. But she was injured, and Y/n knew exactly how to deal with both her and Steve.

It was one of the reasons Y/n was in the Avengers. She was skilled, tactful, critical. She knew how to act in the field. That was probably why HYDRA targeted her.

“There’s an unusual pattern in her system, boss.” Tony tries to better understand what was happening in the state he was in. “There are no foreign objects on her, but there is a different energy source in her nervous system.”

Wanda is frozen at the sight. Y/n was  single-handedly tearing them apart. Sam and Tony were on the sides, unable to move from the damage Y/n caused and Steve was growing weak, too. Y/n managed to grab his shield when he threw it at her and used it against him.

Natasha tried to lock her legs around her neck and pin her to the ground, but Y/n caught her footing and prevented it from happening, her hands gripping at her legs as she tried to throw her off but Bucky was able to grab her arms and locked them behind her.

The woman grunted in irritation before she shifted, tipping herself forward, kicking one leg under Bucky as she slammed Natasha to the floor, effectively freeing herself before she stood back up and threw a punch to the Winter Soldier and dropped her leg on Natasha’s stomach, knocking the wind out of her.

Soon enough, Y/n was facing Steve, a new gun in her hands that was aimed for his head. He was too tired to get up. His body was whining with each movement yet his brain was screaming at him to move. She wasn’t able to shoot though.

Red enveloped Y/n’s hands and soon, her eyes were on the witch. She was looking at her, trying to force her way into her brain and to fight off whoever was inside her girlfriend’s head.

It makes her falter, pain shooting up her head and her grip on the gun loosens, much to Steve’s relief. But the unknown enhanced is able to regain control. And now she has new orders.

Get rid of her.

Her feet are moving and she’s walking in Wanda’s direction. “Y/n, please. You have to fight him.” Her girlfriend pleads, her powers still trying to reach her and she catches a glimpse of what she sees.

Y/n stops a few meters away from her. She sees the conflict in her eyes, the exhaustion and she’s determined to get her girlfriend back. “Y/n, you’re stronger than him. You can do this.” But Y/n fires, close to her feet.

She’s unfocused.

Wanda tries harder.

“I love you, okay? I’m here to help you but you need to let me in.” Y/n’s hand goes to her head, and she’s trying to clear her thoughts as they keep jumping back and forth.

But she raises the gun again. The barrel was pointed to Wanda’s head yet she doesn’t move, simply watches her as she smiles softly.

I know you won’t hurt me.

Y/n’s hands shake. Her finger rests on the trigger and she hesitates. The man is yelling at her to shoot, but Wanda’s voice lingers in the back of her head. But despite that, he had a strong hold on her. She couldn’t shake him off.

When she meets Wanda’s gaze once more, the brunette sees the apologies, the sorrow, swimming inside them and her eyes widen when she hears her thoughts after not hearing them the whole time after the mission.

I love you. I’m sorry.

There’s a loud bang and Wanda’s heart stops. Y/n falls to the floor and the gun falls from her hands. Everyone on the team’s eyes widened in shock at what they’d witnessed, but Wanda falls to her knees, her hand falling on Y/n’s limp form, gripping her arm.

“Y/n, moya lyubov...” Her voice cracks because Y/n just felt cold to the touch.

Blood was quick to pool under her head and their hearts wrench at the sight of their friend and the sound of Wanda’s pained cries as she holds the body of the love of her life.

Steve’s head lowers, tears in his eyes as he tries to wipe the image from his mind. Bucky walks over to the witch, grimacing before he kneels next to her and closes Y/n’s eyes before he pulls Wanda into him, letting her cry her poor heart out at the loss of her lover.

The team is filled with grief, rage, and heartbreak.

They do their best to track down the man that caused Y/n’s death. And when they do, they make sure he pays. Wanda tells them that she would deal with him and they let her.

And when they finally corner him, bind and restrain him, she looks at him dead in the eyes, her own glowing red as her power surges through her veins.

“I will not grant you the mercy of death for what you did.” She hissed, the red crawling at the man’s skin as he struggles. None of them move, all just watching while Wanda did the job.

“You’ll stay awake, no matter how exhausted you are, no matter how much you plead to rest. You’ll be on the brink of death, but never there and you will suffer.” She tells him and he screams, thrashing in his place.

But his agony does not compare to the void that made itself permanent in her heart. It reminds her, that no matter how strong or powerful she was, she was never able to save the people she loved the most.

And though she claims that Y/n could never hurt her, it pained her, knowing that Y/n would no longer stand and live next to her.

#avengers #avengers x reader #wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #marvel #mcu #reader insert #x reader #natasha romanoff #natalia alianovna romanova #natalia romanova #tony stark #steve rogers #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #sam wilson

[speakingveganese]

REDDIT FAIL. A User’s Debut in Review

Charting the Unknown

For the past month, I have embarked into the unknown, entering the Reddit community as a first time user. Although my familiarity with this site is somewhat limited, I have learned a lot in a short amount of time. It was easy to set up an account, and once you do, it immediately asks you to start selecting your interests to begin populating your homepage with relevant content suited to your preferences. 

History 

I'm a health food junky. My pantry and fridge are full of condiments, seeds, dressings, and any obscure product I can lay my hands on. I might have a problem; let's call it a passion. I have been eating clean since the age of fifteen, trying to eat almost entirely organically and locally, splurging here and there. I have never attempted to fully take the plunge into the vegan world, and thought that the subreddit community I selected would be a great way to gain some insight into the diet and work two-fold to immerse myself into this community as a participating, practicing, and contributing member. 

My prior knowledge lent itself better to plant based eating than the Reddit world itself. Reddit has been around since 2012 and I have only been registered on the site for about seven months. Currently, the Reddit app is the 6th most frequented in the category of social networks, taking a seat right behind Pinterest (Oberlo, 2020).

The majority of users are between the ages of 25-29 and they make up 25% of all of Reddit's users. The site is also popular among 18-24 year olds at 21%, and 30-49 year olds, a much larger grouping who make up 14% of its user base Across the board, it is popular among people of all ages. Users form and join communities, or subreddits, and these individual threads and pages are dedicated to a particular subject of interest that users can elect to follow. There are over 2.2 million different subreddits, and 130,000 of these subreddits are considered active today, with daily participation and posts from at least 5 of its followers. It makes sense that with so many different areas of interest and content available to choose from, the user base demographically speaking is equally diverse and substantial.  

Diving In 

The whole food subreddit that I elected to participate in is a community that has 150,000 members, and is fairly active, which in my thinking made it a good option as a page I would further explore. The content is often by an individual user who shares a picture of their latest meal followed by an ingredient listing or specific recipe. Other times, people post their questions about a particular plant-based brand or product. Some take it a step further still, delving into nutritional values, personal health concerns, or other fundamentals of the science behind plant based eating. With such a broad spectrum of content, the diversity of the page itself lends itself well to someone's own individual level of commitment. It is, in fact, user friendly. 

Participation Awards 

Over the past month, I have posted to the whole food subreddit once a week. Each week, I have tried to contribute in a new and different way as the last in order to cast a wider net, experimenting with what will and what not draw engagement and to what degree. You wouldn't call me the most active user, but I have been consistently participating. The page's responsiveness has been fairly consistent as well, if not slightly underwhelming compared to other sites I have used. More to come on that.  

My first post was more of a precursor and asked a broad question. I wanted to get a feel for the page itself. I told my audience that I was a first time user and a first time vegan, and pointed out my concerns about the specific foods that I would miss both in terms of taste and nutritional content. I asked for advice and if anyone on the page could relate and how best to supplement my diet accordingly. I got some good responses and advice from a few users as well as a friendly reminder from the page administrators.  

The administrators quickly but kindly reminded me of the codes of conduct and that questions like these are frequently asked and reoccurring. They said I would be better served if I navigated towards Q&A threads before posting questions to make sure they haven't already been asked and answered. I thought my original spin was worthy of a post but unfortunately the administrators did not see it my way. Strike one. 

The following week, I decided to post a picture that lent itself well to a lot of the current page content. 

I had made vegan apple pies using a butter alternative for the pie crust and thought that they turned out nicely and that the post itself would have a fun and seasonal spin. For a desert they were still quite healthy and I figured they would do well on a page that showcased mostly entrees. I proceeded to have an apple pie photoshoot in my kitchen and uploaded my prized picture. I am still unsure of the reason exactly, but even today the picture is still awaiting administrator approval. Strike two. 

Week three, I tried a new tactic. I couldn't lose. I participated in an active thread Q&A rather than try to post my own content. Someone was looking for pantry staples and I gave a suggestion of one of my favorites. Victorious! People commented and people agreed. I finally felt like I had made a contribution to the community. 

During this time of experimentation, I have managed to acquire a handful of points, or karma as the page calls it. Users can "upvote" or like content, and this is how your karma is earned. This meant that overall my contributions, content, and profile itself was at least now a bit more trustworthy and substantial.  

For my most recent post, I had asked about a cauliflower based "alfredo" sauce that I saw in the store that consisted of only vegetables, salt, pepper, lemon juice and olive oil. 

I thought I might try it out and was genuinely curious to see if anyone else had and what they thought before making the purchase. I was informed by the page administrators that oil as an active ingredient, as well as the majority of oil for that matter, is strictly prohibited, and that coconut oil is frowned upon and cautioned against. This came as a bit of a shock to me considering firstly that olives are a fruit, and secondly that many oils are in fact a very healthy addition to your diet. My post was active and did receive a few comments before it was taken down by the page administrators. Strike three. Lesson learned. 

Takeaways 

The Reddit community itself is one that lends itself very well to a person's own specific interests and works as a platform to gain more information on any variety of topics. The information is concise and from what I can tell, trustworthy.  The particulars of the specific community I chose were as restrictive as the diet itself. There was an entire learning curve into the codes of conduct by page administrators. I took more of a crash course than I expected, but I think that this may have been partially my fault. Not only was I brand new to the nuances of the Reddit website itself, I was also entering into a brand new way of cooking, eating, and thinking about food. I didn't realize going in that this subreddit was more than a showcase of healthful eating, but catering towards a very narrow style and method of dieting, one that I am not a representative or firm believer of. My philosophy has always been everything in moderation, including moderation. My own lack of experience when it came to such a structured and rigid style of dieting inhibited my ability to contribute effectively. This vegan imposter tried to count her chickens before they hatched.  

Overall the users have been friendly and good natured, although they do take their discussions and content seriously. In the online world of instant gratification, the pace feels slower on the Reddit forums and more restrictive. This may not impact the individual user as positively at first, but it does lend well to the trustworthiness and the level of quality one can expect of the page content overall. I learned that this particular subreddit page is one that is heavily surveilled and meticulously maintained in order to stay true to the quality and accuracy of its subject matter. Whether or not this compels me to be an active participant on the subreddit moving forward, or in my specific case, being more like a repeat offender, I can trust that the content itself will steer my interest in the right direction and broaden my scope of thinking. Reddit has not seen the last of u/laurenemi.

10 Reddit Statistics You Should Know in 2020 [Infographic]

#reddit #crashcourse #socialnetwork #vegan #plantbased

[hellishmess]

21: The Union Festival pt. 2

September 22,2018 [11:12 pm]

[Ana pov ]

Everything changed in a heartbeat.

Loud bangs shook the ground underneath me. People were running, taking cover. I ran too, but not before I saw some pterodactyl looking creature take a woman in its claws and lift her to the sky.

The halls of the center building was a mess. Gifted tried to defend themselves, but no one had weapons and the creatures were horrible.

A scream.

"Demons!" Someone shouted.

It was a frenzy. Instinct shoved common thought out of my brain. It had me running down an adjoining hall, away from the chaos of the main one and all the monsters.

I dove into a small hidden crevice. It had a door made of the same stone material as the walls.

I shoved against it, begging it to move.

A sickening crunching sound came from the main hallway. Panic and fear bolted all movement. I froze, back, pressed up into the crevice’s corner.

When the noise faded I managed a final shove against the door, earning entry with an open the door. I plunged into darkness, and darkness engulfed me. The door shut behind me with a final grate.

I collapsed on the floor, my back still against the door. My breaths were erratic. The booming of the blood in my ears was all I could hear.

Monsters and death was outside.

Aspen was somewhere out there too.

Christ! I should have went with her to get the punch.

I banged my head against the door.

I scrambled to find my phone, thankful it was still in the leather garter she let me borrow.

Flicking on flashlight, I stifled a scream again. I wasn't alone. A body was laid out flat along the back wall with someone crouching in front of their face. Another was curled in the far corner.

Men. The one crouching and the one in the corner turned.

I could have cried at the familiar face.

"Ana!" Eli exclaimed softly. "How'd you get in here?"

"I saw a maid leave from here." Moving closer, I saw who Eli was crouched over.

Samuel’s body was mauled with long gashes shredding his skin. They created caverns in his body. 

I backed away. I escaped one circle of hell only to climb into another. I wasn't an idiot. He'll be looking for something to eat soon.

"Ana," Eli said. His worry moving from Samuel to me. "It's okay. He's unconscious."

"Oh god. Oh god," I hit the wall. Everything’s closing in. I try to focus on the light from my phone but even that was growing dim. "Oh god."

My breathing was erratic. My lungs were heaving, but my muscles tingled as if they weren't getting enough air. Maybe they were getting too much?

"Ana. Calm down." Eli sounded so far away.

"Oh holy shit." My knees shook. I felt the slide down the wall. The coolness of it touched my skin. Was I going to pass out?

Someone had grabbed me, their hands gripping my chin to force my head up. It was Eli.

Suddenly he was all I knew. The depth of his voice as he said my name, the blue allure of his eyes. I waited for him to say something to me, I'd wait forever if I had too.

"Ana," His voice reverberated in my soul. "I need you to calm down."

I took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. In, hold for a moment, then out. I repeated that task for a moment, still looking at Eli, still waiting for him to say something else.

He looked away, and the spell snapped.

"Shit," My hand ran through my hair. He just compelled me.

Eli apologized, "Sorry. I didn't know any other way to get you to chill."

I shook my hand, "No, it's fine. I think I was going to have a panic attack."

Eli went back to Samuel.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Some creature had him pinned. It had 4 arms and claws a foot long." Eli's lips turned up at the grotesque creature he saw.

I understood and took another deep breath. I didn't want to be weak. I wasn't weak. What would Aspen do?

An image of her popped into my mind. She stood tall, defiant against any adversary. 

"Can he sit up?"

Eli shook his head. "No the witch over there put him under."

I glanced into the dark corner. The man was still curled up, his eyes blank as they met mine.

"He needs blood?" I asked.

Eli nodded.

"Let him feed from me." I said. "Just enough for him to heal and get some of his strength back."

Eli was shaking his head. "No way. I don't know if he'd stop. It's too risky."

"It doesn't matter. He's old, right? Powerful? We need to get out of here. We're just sitting ducks here. I mean have you seen the monsters out there?! He’s our strongest bet of making it out alive."

I scoot closer, raising my wrist to Eli. A stubborn set to my jaw. This was the only way, I told myself. The best way.

Eli hesitates, "Have you ever been bit before?"

I suck in a breath, my answer delayed. That was enough to tell him.

"This won't be pleasant," he warned. "This is really fucking dangerous."

"Yeah. Well I don't expect it to tickle and this whole situation is unpleasant." I brought my wrist up to his face. "Lets just get it done. I'm serious. I don't plan on dying just yet."

With frown, Eli took my wrist. I knew the unspoken words that hung between us. You just might if we do this.

His lips part to reveal fangs. I close my eyes. Flinching back, my eyelids pop open at the sudden sting from the bite. Eli withdraws immediately.

With a shaky breath, I quickly cover Samuel's mouth. My blood dripping between his lips.

He's still for a second. Worry starts to form.

I stifle another scream into a yelp. Samuel's latched himself to my wrist, his fangs splitting the bite even farther.

I cry out, feeling the flick of his tongue and the draw of my blood.

Suddenly, he's on top of me, snapping my head sideways to split the skin at my throat.

Pain erupts throughout my whole body, but my screams are muffled by a hand. I struggle to breath. Samuel has me fully immobilized.

Tears run down my face as I stare into the darkness. The pressure of Samuel is gone.

"Samuel," Eli's there. He's somewhere close. "She healed you."

I can't move. Shock keeps me on the ground.

Eli's closer, crouching over me this time. "Hey. You want some blood from me? It would heal you and give you your strength back."

I shake my head. I don't feel too bad. The shock dissipates allowing me to be sharply aware of my situation.

"At least let me heal the bite," Eli presses.

"Okay."

Eli pulls me in close. His tongue against my mangled throat, before hitting my wrist.

It was awkward, but I was grateful. I didn't want the open wounds or the scars.

An itching burn blossomed within seconds. My hands went to scratch but Eli brought them back down. "Don't. It's your skin multiplying and healing."

I curl my fingers into fists until the itch subsides. Slowly I manage to stand. I wasn't as weak as I thought I'd be.

Upon expressing my shock, I learn why.

"It's because I didn't take much from you. You're blood is surprisingly strong. I'm healed and at full strength from just three mouthfuls." Samuel said.

I push that out the window. "We need to get out of here."

"I agree," Samuel says.

"There’s a hallways over here," the witch says. He stood in a tight little stone walkway.

Samuel takes the lead position. "Let's go."

We all file out. It's eerily quiet. Only sometimes broken by the faint crash or scream.

The pace is quick. I drag a hand along the wall, my flashlight in my hand so only some light leaked through.

Samuel leads us up some stairs and into a kitchen. The sound of fighting and monsters is so much closer.

A high pitched screech sounds, making me flinch back into Eli. It’s too hellish to be human.

My eardrums ring. I see something fly by the little window in the kitchen.

A huge hound-like creature crashed through the door. It's jaws big enough to crush my skull, the beast stood easily at my stomach.

I gasp, backing away as it eyes us all. It's breath creeps into the room as it pants. I cough. My lungs start to burn. The witch grabs me and shoved my shirt over my mouth and nose.

"Hell hounds exhale toxic gas." He says.

The beast lunges forwards but Samuel meets it head on. We scurry to the edges of the kitchen while Samuel wrangles the beast. His stomach and thighs were scratched by its claws before he maneuvered himself behind it.

Samuel grabs the hounds jaws, prying them apart as it tries to snap. Soon the dog falls, it's jaw split wide open.

I stand there. Not moving, not blinking. This is crazy. Yet no one is really batting an eye? This was this world. I'm apart of this now.

"Ana!" Eli whispers. "Come on!"

I see Samuel grab another kitchen knife. The witch and Samuel following suit. I grab a frying pan.

We all slip through a back door and burst outside. The hell out here is being battled by gifted and some others.

In a blazing strike, lightning takes down 5 monsters at once. I see the woman that the power came from. Her eyes shining and her hair standing up from her electricity.

Another screech and something blurs in my the corner of my eyes. I knock to the ground, squealing as something with claws and a long snout tried to eat my face. The only thing saving me is my pan.

It lets out a scream of its own, a loud pain-filled bellow. I fling myself away as it's skin bubbles and boils.

A figure is rushing over, through the smoke and the chaos. "Aspen!" I yell, unsure of myself.

She comes and scoops me up in her arms. "Are you okay?!"

I look at the body on the ground. It was the demon version of a goose, with a long neck, two rows of fangs, and wings with claws at the bend of them.

"Yea. Thanks to you." I pull her close. Maybe this wasn't the time for hugs but god I couldn't stop myself. Aspen wrapped her hands around me.

But I get jostled to the side. A huge shadow looms over us all. Aspen moves towards it, encircling the 15ft tall monstrosity. Samuel and Eli draw its attention too.

I sit, stunned and hawking as they attack this Grendel like beast.

The creature swipes at Eli with a huge paw. It was crazy fast for its size, but Eli managed to duck just in time.

Samuel used his knife, stabbing at its muscles. It roars when blood gushed out of its wound.

Still, it wasn’t enough to slow it down, and Samuel’s plan backfired quickly. He hissed, recoiling in pain when the blood touched his hand.

The creature started to move but found himself unable. Aspen was to the back of it, out of sight with her hands raised. Slowly they moved together.

I saw the hard look of concentration, watched as the creature’s body bent. Aspen was crushing this thing.

Samuel and Eli step back. A confused glance was shared before Eli points to Aspen.

She ends this. Literally crushing the creature down to the ground. It squirmed, but it didn't move. It couldn't.

The realization that it might literally explode had me running behind one of the oak trees.

Just as I thought, with a last shove from Aspen the creature flattens. Blood spews in a nauseating show of gore. My eyes close, expecting the acidic blood to burn towards us.

It doesn't. The barrier Aspen set up kept it all contained like glass. Trails of dark green blood slid to the ground.

It was silent.

Aspen comes back up to me. Her hands grazing my face, then my throat. "Jesus Christ. What happened to you?"

My mind whirls. "No time. We need to go get somewhere safe!"

I twist to run, but she holds me still. "Ana, we've got them all. The Assault team was quick to respond and we managed to contain and kill the wave of creatures."

"What?" I looked around. Bodies of human and creature shapes lie dead around us. Nothing moved. The panic died down. "Oh thank god."

I pull Aspen into another hug, tears threatening to roll. "I should have went with you to get the punch."

Aspen hugs me back, her arms wrapping around me in the strong way that I loved. "I'm glad you’re safe." She pulls way, holding me at arms distance as she looks me over again. "Jesus what happened here?" Aspen draws up my wrist where crusty blood trails bled. Her eyes got to my throat next.

I notice her jaw clench, her eyes sliding over to the two vampires among us, and got the strange wariness one feels when unsheathing a sharp blade.

I bit my lip. Might as well be truthful and save these two from whatever anger is brewing. "I fed Samuel to heal him so he could get us out of the room we were in."

"You what?" She snaps. Her voice rough. There was a darkness in her gaze. She wasn't looking at me though. No, her eyes were pinned on Samuel.

I gently pull her focus back to me. She softened up when I sheepishly smiled at her, "Yeah. I escaped into their room, Eli saved me from a having panic attack and passing out, and then I tried to get myself to act like how you would."

Aspen just stared at me. Her lips parted slightly.

I clarified what I meant, "Strong and unafraid."

Aspen’s laugh was gentle as she grabs my wrist where she rubs off all the crusted blood. "So you think I would have risked my health to feed a hungry vampire?"

My face starts to redden, and I shake my head. "I didn't feed him because I thought that's what you would have done. I know you would have done something else, something better, but I fed him because I thought that's what I needed to do to stay alive. He was the most powerful friend I had at the moment. We all needed him."

"Smart, I guess. Ballsy definitely," She says. She turns to Samuel next. "You tell her thank you?"

Samuel's eyes narrow. He looks like he's going to snarl something nasty.

"He doesn't need to. He got us out safely." I interject.

"He should. You saved him, too." Aspen retorts, but she doesn't fight. "Let's go before we get roped into having to clean this clusterfuck."

I laugh, feeling all the tension in my body release.

Aspen leads us out to where the cars are parked. I think to thank Samuel but decide against it. I thank Eli instead.

"No problem." He replies. "I'm glad we all get to go home tonight."

"Me too," Aspen agrees. "Thanks for helping her."

Eli nods again and we turn away, walking throughout the destroyed lawn together.

Aspen squeezes my hand. "You don't understand how happy I am you're safe."

"Same here." I utter, looking at the damage. "I was worried about you."

Aspen laughs as if she can't believe the thought. "Don't worry about me. I'm okay."

We're quiet as we hit the sea of cars. Finding our own was gonna be hard. Aspen raised her hand and clicks her keys. Nothing sounds.

We head down the rows.

"Did you really think of me to draw strength from?" Aspen’s voice is low when she asks.

I smile, getting the faint feeling this is an important question to her. "Of course I did. You're the strongest person I know. I envy you."

Aspen nudges her body into me, dropping the subject at that. "Come on. I think I see the car."

[ohmyprodigalson]

Oooh. The team rescues the reader, who was kidnapped and kept there pretty much her whole life. She's kind of like eleven from stranger things. She doesn't talk much, and and shes bad at controlling her emotions. He lies to her, and she gets really angry, asking him "why he lies". This is really specific, sorry about that.

Here you go 😊

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping and child abuse.

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

(Y/N) was sitting on the bed in her hospital room, with her legs crossed. She was holding her doll, made of fabric scraps tied together in knots, tightly against her chest as her eyes darted frantically around the room. Her hair was matted and there was still dirt under her fingernails. She shivered a little, not from the cold but from her fear. The lights in the room were dimmed, and she wasn't wearing any of the monitors usually required by the hospital. Everything scared her because it was so new and strange.

Malcolm stood outside her room, peering in through the window, arms crossed. He was the one to find her, not even five hours ago. Gil walked up to Malcolm, hands in his pockets. He spoke low and quiet. "There's nothing else we can do for her today. Why don't you go home and get some rest?"

"She hasn't said a single word." Malcolm's voice was so quiet, it almost sounded like a whisper. "The only reaction she's had to this whole thing was her screaming when we tried to take her doll from her. I should have known better."

When the team raided the suspect's house, they never expected to find a prisoner in his basement. They were running her face through the database of missing persons, but they had no luck yet.

A nurse went into the room and attempted to put the blood pressure cuff on her and start an IV. Just like the other times before, (Y/N) started screaming. But she didn't fight; she cowered and hid behind her arms.

"Seriously." Gil reached out and placed a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "We aren't going to learn anything tonight. Go home, get some rest, and we'll be back tomorrow to talk to her and figure things out." Malcolm turned to look at Gil. He had a sad look in his eyes as he paused before nodding.

The next morning Malcolm was at the hospital bright and early. One of the hospital's psychologists was there to help talk to (Y/N), but Malcolm wanted to be there, too.

They were all in her hospital room, and the psychologist had set out manipulatives, dolls, pens, and papers on the hospital bedside table pulled in front of her. Gil stood outside of the room, watching from the other side of the window.

The psychologist had a soothing voice when she finally spoke. "Let's start at the very beginning. Can you tell me your name?"

(Y/N) still clung to her doll, and she stared at the wall in front of her. She made no eye contact with anyone and she had no facial expressions whatsoever. Both were signs of extreme abuse, especially as a child. She was broken.

They waited in silence for an answer as the clock on the wall ticked away. The psychologist continued to work with her, and sometimes she would respond with a drawing or an escaped moan. After an hour, they decided to take a break. The psychologist left the room, and Malcolm was compelled to walk over to (Y/N).

He slowly moved to sit down on the bed beside her, so that if she started to freak out, he could stop. She made no movement, so he sat down gently. He spoke quietly. "I know you must be filled to the brink with emotion that you haven't been allowed to show, and I know you must be filled with so much pain." Malcolm paused as he tried to make eye contact. (Y/N) kept her eyes on the bed before her.

"But there's one thing no one has asked you yet." Malcolm paused before continuing. "Is there anything you want? You haven't been able to ask for anything in so long." He bent his head down to tempt her into looking at him. "Is there anything at all that you want?"

He waited patiently for her answer, exuding a sense of calm so that the silence wouldn't feel weird for her. Then he heard her voice for the very first time; it was so soft and meek. "Mom."

Malcolm's heart was immediately shattered. This was no longer a woman before him, but a little girl, asking for her mother. He confirmed this by asking, "You want your mom?" She gave a very small nod. Malcolm looked away from her, up towards the ceiling, and he closed his eyes. He was trying to fight his tears because that was not what she needed right now. Malcolm returned his gaze to her. He was emphatic with every word he spoke. "I promise, I will find your family."

Malcolm went back to the precinct with this goal in mind. He talked to Dani about the progress in finding (Y/N)'s identity, and she had no luck. That's when Edrisa walked up to them with a solemn look on her face. Even Malcolm's smile couldn't put the light back in her eyes.

"I know who the kidnapped woman is." She let the file in her hand drop with a thud on Dani's desk. Dani opened it as Edrisa continued. "I was running the dental records on the skeletons we found in has back yard, and I came across this man, and this woman." She was pointing at the picture in Dani's hands. "They were married, and they had a daughter. I looked them up and found that they went missing twenty-five years ago, but I didn't find any bones that would belong to a child." She paused as Malcolm looked at her seriously, waiting for the dreaded words. "I believe the woman you found was their daughter."

Malcolm's heart sank. He just promised (Y/N) that he would find her family, and he did. They just weren't alive. He took a copy of the family picture from Edrisa and went back to the hospital.

He found everyone exactly as they were before. The psychologist was talking with (Y/N) and Gil was watching from the doorway. "Gil, can I talk to you for a minute?" He stepped away from the room and followed Malcolm down the hall a few paces.

"What is it? What did you find?"

"Long story short, Edrisa found the remains of the couple in this picture, but not the little girl. She thinks that's her, in there." Malcolm motioned back towards the door.

"So we have a name?"

"Yes, it's (Y/N), but that's not the point." Malcolm shifted his weight as he looked away for a moment, and then back at Gil. He leaned in and became animated when he spoke. "I just promised her that I would find her family. They are the only thing she wants in the world right now, and I can't give them to her."

Gil saw the worry in Malcolm's eyes, but he remained calm. "There's nothing we can do about that right now. Yes, it's sad, but let's focus on getting her to talk first. All she's done is scream when someone tries to touch her." His face remained calm and serious as he clapped Malcolm on the back before turning to walk back towards the room.

They watched as the psychologist continued to work with her. When they took another break and everyone had left, she spoke softly again. "Mom?"

Malcolm had feared this. He walked across the room and sat on the bed with her. He pulled Edrisa's photo from his suit pocket and gave it to (Y/N). "Is this your mother?"

She gripped the photo tightly as her eyes grew wide. She nodded.

Malcolm's voice cracked when he spoke. "I'm sorry, but... We found their remains." He paused before clarifying. "They're dead."

(Y/N) shot her head up and made eye contact with him for the first time. It was the first time she had made eye contact with anyone. Then she spoke with force. "No."

All he could do was look back into her broken eyes.

"No! You lied! You lied!!" Her soft voice escalated to yelling and then screeching as she became incoherent. Malcolm jolted off the bed as she started to thrash and a nurse rushed in. She sedated (Y/N), and her sessions with the psychologist were over for the day.

Over the next week, if Malcolm tried to visit, she would start screaming the same words until she was either sedated or restrained until he left. He couldn't see her ever again, because it was detrimental to the progress she was making with the psychologist.

***

A year later, Gil handed Malcolm a small envelope with no address on the front. "Hey, Bright, this is for you."

Malcolm took it and turned it over in his hands. It was made of nice paper, not like the generic ones you find in the store. "What is it?"

"Do you remember that case last year where we rescued the woman who was kidnapped as a little girl? She left it for you. She specifically said, 'Please give this to the nice man in the suit.'"

Malcolm couldn't hide the shock on his face, and he hurriedly opened the envelope as he thanked Gil. The world faded away as he read the handwritten letter.

"I don't know if you remember me, but you saved me a little over a year ago from a very bad man. I hadn't been allowed to see the sun since he took me, and I never had any friends. But that all changed after you and your partners found me.

Looking back, I lashed out at you when I shouldn't have. You were only trying to help me, but I was too hurt to see that. I'm very sorry for the way I treated you, and I hope some day you can forgive me.

If you would like, I thought we could get lunch or drinks some time. I am so very grateful to you for saving me, and I would love to get to know you."

Later that week he met her at a little café for lunch, and he couldn't believe his eyes. She was so beautiful and radiantly happy, like a normal woman her age. What a huge difference a year can make.

#prodigal son #malcolm bright #prodigal son fanfic #prodigal son imagine #fanfic #imagine #gil arroyo

[spjcomicart]

White, Green, and Tara

Stefano Junior Om Tare Tuttare Tara Soha, Om Tare Tuttare Tare Soha, Om Tare Tuttare Soha—so goes the Matra of one magnanimous Mother of all Mother deities. Tara, is Compassion embodied yet is she who wears 21 distinct guises and from which splinters crystalline and colouful into myriad more. It is also she who derives her existence from Avalokitesvara, bodhisattva of Compassion who bore her of his tears.. It is she whom was once a corporeal princess who affirmed the value of the feminine principle. “I prostrate to the Liberator, Mother of the all Victorious Ones” is more or less what her mantra elucidates. But how, and moreover, how does the practice of Vashryana Tara benefit the practitioner in a way distinct from other Buddha or spiritual deities and how does the practice of the feminine aspect of Buddha correlate or differ from the veneration of the Virgin Mary in the west? (1) Long ago, the Victorious One, came into existence and was known as Light of Worlds. The Princess “Moon of Wisdom” had the highest respect for his teaching, and for 10 million and 100,000 years she made offerings...; after much discourse she replied “In this life there is no such distinction as male or female,......weak minded worldlings are always deluded by this.” And so she vowed “Therefore may I, in a female body, work for the welfare of beings right until Samsara has been emptied” Then (guru Tathagatha Dundunbhisvara) prophesied “As long as you continue manifesting such supreme Bodhi, you will be exclusively known as “Goddess Tara”. Tara, later quite obviously embraced as a feminist icon, both as either the reincarnation or reiteration of Avalokitesvara from the tears he wept for the suffering of those trapped in an endless state of Samsara or the enlightened Moon Princess who relinquishes her humanity, she always insists on the necessity for the recognition of the female as essential. Despite her claim that gender has no corporeal relevance at the arrival of Buddhahood, the principle of femininity, motherhood, creation, compassion and myriad aspects associated with women culturally are vastly ancient. Dating as far back as the legend of the chaotic waters of Tiamat an Innana of Mesopotamia in the East, the notion of the female aspect and her attributes could either have been inherited culturally through India, or arrived at instinctually, or some combination of both. And with Tara, as with all Buddha, she comprises all aspects of both the feminine and qualities of the nature and cosmos. Conversely, the visuality of a Maternal Buddha would no doubt attract women to adhere to the tenets of spiritual enlightenment both for themselves, their daughters, and the good that they might contrive to do for their families in this realm during their current life cycle. In Christianity, no one inhabits this role more exclusively and effectively, for centuries, than the Virgin Mary. Mary of Nazareth, the purported mother of the Son of God, Jesus, is venerated by Christians all over the world as the “mother” of all of us and is sought in solemn prayer for 2 guidance, comfort, protection, and compassion. The repeated and recited prayers over her Rosary beeds thanks her for her stewardship of her son and asks that she not only forgives us for our transgressions but the “sins” of those that would do us harm-the ultimate act of contrition. Because only compassion for our enemies and ill doers over ourselves and our kin can truly exemplify a transendent forgiveness or “enlightenment”. Tara wields her own “Golden” rosary, in thanks to Taranatha, or Kun-ga nying-po a scholar and Buddhist created the rosary in 1615 after founding the monastery Tak-tan. The rosary follows a process of recounting Tara’s Tantras and lineage but most notably on the arrangement of her powers that save the practitioner from Eight great Fears; but more on that in a moment. Tara, as Buddha, is both the Mother AND the Father. She is the spiritual embodiment of Compassion and Virtuous enlightenment but she is so of her own accord, not because of the suffering she vicarously endured at the hands of her son’s persecuters. Tara is the “Saviouress” because she is compelled through her enlightenment to have “Karuna” (compassion) for the suffering that is inevitable in human life and the cycle of Samsara that all beings are subject to, in spite of their ignorance and proclivity for evil. “Tara” means Star and as such, she is both a maternal teacher and comforter as she is a guide to those who seek passage. Navigators and shipsmen would practice Tara as she might literally reveal their path and illuminate their journey while protecting them from the insurmountable dangers that abound. But she acts to do so also on the spiritual plane just as she is meant to gently encourage, an “Immovable Encouagement”, an individual or party on achieving or arriving toward their goal or undertaking. What greater force is there more 3 immediately recognizable and emotionally enmeshed than that of a Mother’s encouragement? If not for which, the majority of men AND women may not have taken its first steps. Not unlike the Hindu Elephant headed Ganesha, himself the son of Parvati-the wife and feminine aspect of Shiva, who eliminates obstacles from the worshipper who seeks his aid. (2) The Goddess destroying all hindrances is the supreme remover of Fears. For the practitioner’s protection draw Her, righteous, granting boons. The daughter of the ten Powers and Compassion is the Goddess wearing a woman’s form. Draw Her, the bestower of boons, for the welfare of all beings. (Vajrayana “Mahavairocana-Sutra” 716 ad) Tara can take away your Fear. 3)She is the Protectress from Fear of Leprosy. In the Land of Kumaraksetra, a powerful acarya caught leprosy, and he wandered from one person to another, he infected them. Relatives fled fro his presence as he defiled their purity. One day he saw a stone image of Noble Arya Tar and with faith begged her on behalf of the 500 infected Brahmins. A liquid like medicine trickled in an endless stream from Taras hand and when he had bathed in it the leprosy had subsided. The man’s own compassion for his fellow sufferers was essentially key to Tara’s blessing. Tara has compassion but calls upon us to actively engage with it on our quest to enlightenment through suffering. In addition to fear of disease, Tara can also aid in assuageing the fear of Losing Relatives among the Eight she is ward of. And thusly, combined with her vast magical attributes comprise the green of of a prosperous nature, that guide, protect, and encourage humankind, amidst her 4 many faceted faces, Tara is the ultimate Mother and can provide comfort to all in our insular trials and those we inevitably contend with in the physical world through our journey through Samsara. Whether or not an individual believes or not is another story. But those of us who have been reared by mothers know how very real a mothers love and compassion can be if immaterial and how moving her physical embrace can be (perhaps the Tara’s many arms could effectually embrace our spirit then); and also her wrathful judgment-but that story and that of Tara’s more terrifying aspects would be better suited explored in another essay. 4).​ Empower Us, that we may evoke without hindrance, that we may act as friends to the unfortunate that we may achieve our own and other’s aims, that we may gain the highest magical attainment. In January 2020 as the Coronovirus took a foothold in Asia and surrounding countries, the Dalai Lama encouraged Buddhists to practice Tara and chant her Mantra. Om Tare Tuttare Tara Soha....Om Tare Tuttare Tare Soha...Om Tare Tuttare.. Perhaps it cannot effect a cure as the world stands traumatized at the rampant death count and dissemination of our economies and regular life practices, but perhaps, like a Mother, Tara can aid us in achieving peaceful mindfulness, that we may have compassion for those whom are suffering instead of fear and acceptance of inevitable forces beyond the influence of our human will. This unprecedented level of global suffering may reorient our attention to the suffering of all and how meaniful existence can better be arrived at through compassion and courage. 5 Works Cited Wilson, Martin ​In Praise of Tara​, 1986,1996. Print Shaw, Miranda ​Buddhist Goddesses of India,​ 2006. Print Beyer, Stephan​ ​ ​The Cult of Tara ​1973. Print Templeman, David (Taranatha, Jo Nang) ​The Origin of Tara Tantra​, 1981 (1608) Print Wikipedia ​Tara (Buddhism), 2​ 020 Online Tibet Diary ​Corona Virus: The Dalai Lama advised Tara Mantra,​ 2020 YouTube Masters of Buddhism ​Short Biography of Tara​, 2018 YouTube 6

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

OT3FIC: Pitbull

22 - hate locket hammock

The first time she only heard about it at the other’s querying - and she’d sat outside on the steps whining to the massive wolf for over an hour the next time he visited.

The second time, she hadn’t been at home at all and had received the text advising her that ‘he’s here again’ and then neither man had answered her calls for far too long in her book that Jo had been tempted to abandon her hunt and turn her car around immediately.

The third time, she actually spotted his godforsaken coat disappearing around the corner of the house as she came out the side door with the washing basket on her hip. He actually deigned to say the first words to her in long enough that she stumbled on the final step in surprise. That they were a slight at how domesticated she’d become felt like a slap in the face more than she ever thought that word should be.

It was after that point, when the weather was turning warmer and the fireflies were starting to float through the woods and over the field as the snow gave way to rain and then to sunshine, that she finally decided enough was e-fucking-nough.

Sitting in the swinging hammock chair, knees crossed and feet danging just off of the ground in a state of complete relaxation, she knew that it would give the desired outcome the moment he was compelled to arrive as she lent down to light the single candle and set herself swinging calmly with a push of her bare toes in the warm dirt as the nighttime creatures began to scurry back to their holes and nests as the sun began its journey across the sky for the day. Jo felt the clumps of dew coated grass and the dry dirt brushing against the bottom of her foot as she swung her feet, waiting his arrival.

“A bit early for a house call, wouldn’t you think Joanna?” The clipped tone was from behind her shoulder, as if the man had thought it made a smarter choice to sneak up on her rather than appear in front, as if it would make any difference between them that he thought he could surprise her.

As if it wouldn’t result in a deep, dark growl from the dark shadows at the back of the tree trunk as the other demon stared with yellow eyes fixed on the new arrival. Jo felt herself smirking as she turned her head slightly to see the once King appear to almost jerk to the side in the surprise of his own at the other’s attendance. As if he thought Jo would have come up with a plan that had her unsupported and alone in such a space. Not that she thought she needed any back up when dealing with this demon - the sigils carved into the tree trunk behind her ones that she’d seen as a child and copied direct from her father’s battered old journal ones that acted like those of the angelic type she had once used right before meeting this very same demon, and if that weren’t enough, she still had her knife tucked into her boot, ready to show him as good a time as those who’d been under it had if he tried a single thing - but when she’d growled out the suggestion that very first time, the solemn paw on her knee and the whispered query if he wanted to help that got an equally solemn nod had made the choice simple.

“I just thought I’d catch you on one of the gaps in my busy schedule. I’d had it mentioned how much you’d love to catch up with me sometime,” She replied, smirk wider still as the suited demon shifted away from the tree where the wolf padded forward and then stood at the ready, eyes focused entirely upon him, and moved to kick at the small alter Jo’d assembled to summon him with a look of disdain. “So since I am the busy one of us, after that whole...dethronement-”

“I was not dethroned, you tempestuous brat.” “Weren’t you? I thought you got bumped down to just the Crossroads.” “Oh what you think and what is reality is often so very clouded, Joanna.” “I doubt that very much.”

“Is this what you requested me here for? To discuss the hierarchy of your future home?” Crowley hissed the questions out, the accent making the words seem all the more sinister as he kicked at the bowl and candle again until they fell and the candle rolled to a stop near her toes and the flame suddenly flared up a little more than such a candle should ever achieve. Jo pulled her foot up for a moment before it flared back down and then out, her expression turning from surprise to bemusement. “You desperate to know where you’ll eventually fit in, are you?”

Usually such barbs from anyone else - from the asshole monster, from another demon with the most evil of intents once upon a time, from the dark haired woman and her angelic puppet, from the dark haired girl with the same face but evil intent, from the face she saw in the mirror every morning - would make her shrink, but from this one made her let out a peal of laughter into the crisp morning air as she lowered her feet to the ground fully. From the demon she all but vanquished, it was more of a joke than any comedian’s set could dream of.  “Oh, that’s funny! That’s very very funny. I didn’t know Hell had stand up comedy nights, you must have been practisin’ that set for quite a while.”

She could tell immediately that wasn’t the reaction the demon was after, as Crowley’s smirk slowly morphed into a look that would have made her shudder in fear once upon a time. That would possibly still make the hair on the back of her neck stand up if she didn’t know there was little to be frightened of while the darkness stood next to her.

“You and I both know you do not find that so entertaining an idea-” “No, but from you it’s hysterical.” “I look forward to seeing just how... hysterical you find it down the line in the depths of Hell one day, Joanna.”

“If you’re still kickin’ by then!” She rebuked cheerfully, pushing herself out of the hammock and letting the multicolored fabric swing behind her as Jo got to her feet and stepped forward, over the upturned bowl and moved to stand defiantly before the King of the Crossroads. Hands firmly on her hips, and the gentle wind of the morning not bothering her at all despite the coolness on her bare legs. “But that’s beside the point ain’t it? You want to know why I summoned you here.”

“You do know some of us are more important than others, darling, so I’d appreciate the abbreviated version. If you know what that word means.” “So witty. So funny. No wonder you’re the king’a laughs.” “I’d watch your tongue if I were you, Joanna, before you find it missing one day.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jo snarled back at his own nasty growl, and if she’d held a mirror up beside his face then she might even recognize the same curl of their lips as the pair glared at one another in hate and disdain for a long moment. Pulling back a second, not giving ground but resettling her position to herself as in control of this conversation, the blonde rolled her shoulders a few times adjusting as the demon’s own snarl turned into a dark sneer at the thought she’d backed down to him. “Anywho - you’re here so I can tell ya it’s the last time ya goin’ to be on this property.”

“What makes you think that, darling? You think that you can command-” “Oh, that’s exactly what I think, darlin’.”

There was a beat, as Jo watched the sneer trip for a second to disbelief before coming back full force with even more venom than she remembered seeing in him since she stared him down across the edge of a trap with two fingers tracing out and finalizing the symbols that would suck his borrowed power from him and back where it belonged; and taking another step back, Jo found herself smirking as she sat back down into her hammock seat as she awaited what was sure to be an explosive response.

“You dare to think that you - a pathetic, stupid, insolent and worthless little human - can command me to do anything? You believe you’re something greater than me?!” Crowley’s voice was slowly rising as he spoke, the relaxed hands in his pockets drawing out as the words spilled out of him, fists formed tightly before he stalked towards where she swung gently with a finger out and pointed straight at her as he practically bit down around the words. “You do not frighten me, Joanna, you do not dictate to me and you do not command me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Crowley,” She replied, swinging her foot as she heard a growl coming from beside her as if trying to hurry her along or confirm that it wasn’t her commands that the demon should be worrying about but she couldn’t quite tell which. “I’m not even commandin’ you by the way - I’m givin’ you a friendly warnin’. Do not come back here again, there is nothing here for you; and if you do come back, you’ll never be able to again.”

Crowley growled in response, his hands retreating back to his pockets whereby she could no longer tell his frustrations by them alongside the twists of his face, and even glared towards the dark, furred demon that Jo felt the tickle of his fur next to her foot as she swung back a little too far. “And you, Marquis, are following the little girl’s commands too?”

Jo let out a small yelp as she felt the side of the hammock press in closer to her and then the giant wolf’s head appeared, white teeth snapping out at the other harshly, as he pushed past her towards the other at the comment. Pulling her feet up into the nest of the swinging fabric, pressed unfortunately against the hot, heavy haunches of the demon-wolf beside her, Jo looked on in surprise at the almost silent battle of wills happening as the wolf moved further - her seat swinging a little as the support left - and forced the other demon stumbling back at his approach. They looked so clearly were at odds and the match more favoring the one cloaked in fur and darkness this time around if they’d square up from what she could feel of the electricity in the air, a hand reaching up to smooth down the fly-aways caught up in the static energy radiating from the pair.

There was a moment of silence, and Jo found herself relaxing back into the warm cocoon of the woven colorful fabric that held her so comfortably and safe compared to the friction outside of her locket, before the Marquis sat down with an almost smug look upon his face as the King of the Crossroads took a minute footstep backwards.

“Well then,” Crowley’s voice was tight for a moment, his accent clipping the words off for a moment as he tugged and righted his sleeves as if they had moved even an inch from where they were supposed to be, before his eyes drew back to the blonde’s with a harsh glint to them. “What is it you believe you have to your name that gives you the right to order me about, little girl?”

“More than you could know-” “So nothing then?” “If you do not leave us be, I will show you.”

“What have you got then, Joanna?” The demon snarled back, stepping closer again and Jo could feel the way the Marquis’ head merely tilted but made no move to interject as the British man approached and held either side of her hammock in his hand, dragging her closer as if tugging open the sides of her locket to reveal her secrets. “What can you do to stop my visiting my dear friend? Or acquainting myself with your other little friend? What can you do to - what was it? - make me never do so again?”

“I’ve got-” “You have nothing, little girl. You are not a Winchester - you have no demon killing blade. You’re not an angel - you cannot sanctify me. You are nothing.”

“I have an angel blade.” Jo hissed the words out, leaning forward towards the demon’s leer as he’d ran an eye over her considering until she pushed up towards him into his own space in return. The look that flashed across his face felt powerful for her - the way there was a hint of surprise and hesitance as she shifted her weight forward, tilted towards him and pushing him back out of her domain - and pushing forward further, her hands wrapping and gripping over the demon’s own live vices as she shifted her weight, almost standing a top the hammock chair as she pressed into his realm with a sneer. “I also have a knife, still imbued with the power of Purgatory that someone so thoughtfully gifted to me.”

“You’re bluffing-” “I also have an archangelblade-” “Liar!”

“And worst of all for you? In case that driving through your heart wouldn’t be enough to burn you from the inside out all the way out of existence?” She snarled harshly, standing upright and nails digging into the other’s hands who looked up at her in a mixture of disbelief and disdain, his lips curled harshly and the flex of power and electricity in the air again as they stared one another down, the flash of shadows through the others eyes reflecting back her own fire to her. Jo could feel it - powerful and dark and making her skin crawl - but releasing her grip over his hands to hold the wooden bar above her that held her attached like the loop of a locket attached to the chain that was the tree, the woods, the field, every piece of ground that surrounded the little house far behind them, her lips twisted into a dark grin as she hissed the next words out, “I can just lock you away-”

“How.. would you achieve such a task, little girl?” Crowley returned the question with the same amount of loathing as her own words as he flexed his powers over her again trying to crush her down back from her stance; but Jo could feel something holding her upright through it as if there was something else supporting her defiance in return that she thought may have a very furred origin. “You wouldn’t be killing virgins to throw me into the less entertaining afterlife, you’re too frightened of your grubby little soul going downstairs to do so.”

“No. But I can lock you away in a little box I own.” “Oh really? A box?” “Yes, a box. You’d have great company in it. I have some... friends of yours already locked away in there.” “Do tell, little Joanna, what little box and which little friends are you trying to frighten me with? I know for a fact I’m not at all interested in seeing your box.”

Jo rolled her eyes at that, before hissing quietly. “Maybe you’ll see it the next time you’re here. And as to who’s inside?” She slowly stepped down from the fabric beneath her to solid ground, the same support helping her push through the electric-air that buzzed as she glared back with a tiny quirk to her lips in a smirk. “At the moment it’s a handful of mooks and the last of your kind I sucked into it was someone called... Sitri?”

There was a beat and then the forces from both sides that had been waging around her evaporated as the black eyed demon stumbled a foot backwards at the name while the demonic wolf jerked himself to his feet as well, pads kicking up at the dirt almost furiously for a moment as the Crossroads King jerked back even further. She’d been surprised the demon had thought himself all that when she had trapped him inside the strongest trap she had known of before a twenty-hour straight exorcism to drag the demon free of his form and into the  inky depths of her father’s heirloom. She’d looked up the name afterwards - the twelfth and a Prince at that - but all she could think at the time was just how much she needed a glass of water and a hamburger.

“You dare-” “Now, I’m not playin’ ‘round.” “I don’t believe a word of that, darling.”

“Well, how ‘bout this, Crowley,” She replied, running a hand up to pull her hair back from her face with a smile. “You head on back to your important work and then you go see if you can find who I say I have-”

“Like I believe a word you say.” “See if you can locate him, and if you can - then you know my threats are nothin’, and if you can’t...”

“If I can’t, what?” The demon returned with a smug look, as he tugged his jacket back into line and looked down at her. “I don’t come back here? Leave you and the other one to your happy little abode-”

“And leave Grey alone.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, as if Jo’s words could be seen drawn out in front of one another and waiting for the other to accept them. There was no sign to it, that Crowley was even considering their existence, until a growl started up again - as the wolf glared at the pair of them, the support for the statement but not the rest of what have been revealed - and the Crossroads King took another, almost imperceptible step backwards.

The sharpest shards of the sun’s first light streaked across the field behind him, his face thrown into the same darkness that was inside, and Jo was forced to blink first. Her hand came up to shield her eyes from the glint that went straight into her face, and when she managed to blink her eyes clear of the echo of the bright light from her gaze - there was nothing to look at and the smell of sulfur and ozone in the air.

Blinking her eyes rapidly, Jo wasn’t surprised to open her eyes to see the bright white teeth in her face, and what might be perceived in a real wolf as a rabid snarl directed right back at her as she took a step back, sinking into her woven cocoon. The wolf approached again, and stepping backwards as the fabric draped about her and she ended up against the trunk of the tree she had hung from; and giving a sigh, Jo muttered quietly, “He was causin’ trouble, and I didn’t know who it was.”

There was a louder sound, as if suspicious, for a long moment, before Jo added gently. “I don’t know how to reverse it, and I didn’t think he was even a friend of yours, anyways.” That got another noise one she thought, as the shape stepped away and then turned to prowl off towards the house without another look at her, that was more of a laugh than she’d ever heard before from the demon.

Tucking her feet up under herself again as the sun started to warm up the air as well as the sky, Jo bit down on her bottom lip as she started to swing gently, wondering to herself if she’d once again succeeded in something to do with the foul demon.

#ot3 grey/jo/will fic #jopov

[thesportssoundoff]

“For Christmas I  Want....” What the UFC needs per division in 2020

Joey

December 10th

Right around now the majority of us are desperately chasing down gift ideas and huddling our cash together to try and budget it out for the people we care about evenly. In MMA, December means that for one month we spend 31 days pretending that everything's going to be fine in MMA. That the sins of 2019 are gone and won't re-emerge in 2020 and we are about to embark on another insane run like 2015 or 2016. MMA's changing, growing and expanding and shrinking and evolving and degrading all at once around us and so as we embark upon what should be a hectic 2020,  I wanted to take a light hearted approach at examining what 2020 will be. What would the UFC request that the MMA Gods give them in 2020? What are the divisions asking for on their Christmas lists? Let's run down what each division is secretly wishing for when we enter the next year of MMA stupidity.

Flyweight and Women's Featherweight- A bullet

Simply put, both of these divisions would probably be better suited if the UFC just put them out of their misery. 2019 started with a UFC flyweight roster rapidly approaching the single digits and a threat of TJ Dillashaw stepping in to kill the division outright. It ends with a roster of fighters still not too far off the single digits with a champion who seems disinterested in defending the title and clearly has the plans to move up to 135 lbs full time. The likelihood is that the flyweight division will get a title fight or two and then fade off into obscurity as there's no real prospects of note, Benavidez as champion has long lost any luster and the Cejudo good vibes are dead and buried. For women's featherweight, it was a golden carrot to get Cyborg to stop feuding with the organization that hired her. The Cyborg championship era lasted all of two fights and the Amanda Nunes run with the title is dead and/or bloated. Nunes having a token title defense vs Megan Anderson might appease some folks but there's been no development and no real sign of progress. Let these divisions go and let Bellator and Brave/ONE find stuff for them to do.

Men's Bantamweight- Some sizzle for this steak

The UFC's 135 lb division has been one of the more promising developments over the past few years. While it took a slight step backwards for me in 2019, I still think this division is among the best in MMA even if it ranks slightly behind 170 and 155 lbs. There's depth, new talent, a variety of names and faces and personalities and barring something unforseen 20120 figures to keep the pace overall. What it needs in 2020 is for this division to finally get an ROI on some big time names. Henry Cejudo is a promising potential draw at the lighter weight classes but I think he's still going to need help to reach the high end mark on his upside. That requires some names to step up and give him an assortment of fun new challenges. Dominick Cruz needs to get healthy because Cejudo vs Cruz verbally at least has some compelling appeal to it. Cody Garbrandt still has SOME name value and I think if he goes on a streak, we'll see an reset in terms of how fans view him. Jose Aldo and Urijah Faber need to find ways to win tough fights and maintain in the title picture because while I may not care for Cejudo/Aldo or Cejudo/Faber, there are fans who very clearly love these guys and would be absolutely up for seeing them try to capture the title from Cejudo. Guys like MArlon Moraes, Sean O'Malley and Petr Yan need to continue to develop new fanbases and keep up their stretch of exciting fights. This division has a lot of talent but it might need to get a bit greedy in search of some big money fights.

Featherweight- A definitive Max Holloway solution

The UFC spent most of 2018 having open discussions about whether or not Max Holloway was long for the 145 lb division. They talked a bunch about wanting him to move up due to intense weight cuts, saw him move up and then immediately bailed on the idea when he fought Dustin Poirier. My take is that Holloway is still probably destined for 155 lbs and one loss to Dustin Poirier (who is a naturally monstrous dude at 155 lbs) shouldn't deter them. If Max Holloway is hurting his long term health at 145 lbs but may be "too small" for 155 lbs then he'll just need to adapt to that and overcome that the same way Frankie Edgar has done for years. Figuring out what Holloway will be doing in 2020 will probably be aided by the Volkanovski fight but even if Alexander Volkanovski becomes the latest 145 lber to come up short vs Max Holloway, I'm still not convinced I need to see Max toiling at featherweight. As a bonus item or a stocking stuffer if ya will, it SURE would be nice to see the likes of Zabit, Yair Rodriguez, Shane Burgos and Calvin Kattar continue to clear out the 145 lbers who have been sort of lingering in the same spots since about 2016 or so.

Lightweight- For their stars to actually fight

Easy enough, right? The UFC's lightweight division revolves around three names; Conor McGregor, Khabib Nurmamegodov and Tony Ferguson. I'd almost argue that Tony Ferguson is a level behind Dustin Poirier drawing wise but I think at peak value, those three guys make this division hum and draw the big numbers. Not even playing the "these guys fight three times a year!" card, the UFC got two fights out of those three guys and one of those (Ferguson vs Cerrone) was a desperation heave at the last minute. If this division is going to go places then Khabib needs to fight more, Conor needs to stay out of trouble and Tony Ferguson needs to come close to resembling the pace he had in 2016 and 2017. Even accounting for Khabib taking time off for Ramadan, this division cannot exist with THIS much talent in it without more fights from those three guys. I guess you could even throw in Justin Gaethje who expects to sit out until the Tony vs Khabib fight happens. You can't have 4 of your top 5 guys not doing anything with so much talent to be tested up and down the rankings.

Welterweight- A break

The welterweight division is the world's dumbest MMA riddle. It sure seems to trumpet out a finish or a "What the fuck is happening?!" fight on a per show basis better than any other division out there. I mean off the top of my head you have Vicente Luque, Tim Means, Mike Perry, Elizeu Zaleski, Niko Price, Geoff Neal, Robbie Lawler, Jorge Masvidal, Santiago Ponzinibbio, Muslim Salikhov, Matt Brown and that doesn't even begin to account for some of the dudes I can't remember off the top of my head. This division is loaded with dudes who exist to hit each other in the head really hard over and over and over until somebody falls down. It's the world's cruelest division in terms of raw violence. Unfortunately at the top of the division, we've basically had the same 4-5 guys hogging up spots and they more often than not tend to bring us fights that fall on the wrong side of the entertainment scale. Even if you like Kamaru Usman, Leon Edwards, Tyron Woodley and Colby Covington, you have to admit you're probably exhausted by four dudes with similar styles and similarly cringy trash talk skills sucking up all the air and hype in this division. The UFC could really use a break from these folks in 2020. If Edwards/Woodley and Usman/Covington go off without a hitch, it'd be nice for us to get somebody new and fun in there just to allow us all the chance to mentally reset. Maybe that's Jorge Masvidal even!

Middleweight- More Israel Adesanya

The UFC has been very fortunate with the health of its breakout star of sorts. Since coming to the UFC at the start of 2018, Israel Adesanya has fought four times one year and three times the next. He's been busy and consistent and either healthy or healthy enough to always make the walk. With some much instability around him, the UFC really needs Adesanya to continue to take fights throughout 2020. If the goal is to do Adesanya vs Jones then he needs to have AT LEAST two fights prior to this (say March and July of 2020) against top competition. Yoel Romero is seemingly going to be one of those guys and you'd assume a healthy Paulo Costa is the other. The goal should be to keep Adesanya busy because you won't have his freshness and ability to fight consistently forever.

Light heavyweight- A genuine Jones challenger

I feel like it speaks to the pain of 205 lbs that Jon Jones' two title fights were against former 185 lbers who had casually beaten the shit out of the guys who once held pole positions in the division without much challenge. 2019 was a weird year for the division as it felt old, stagnant and perhaps worst of all directionless. If you honestly asked the UFC, I'd bet they'd say privately that the biggest disappointment of 2019 revolved around the fact that the fighters they probably expected to move up and provide fresh challenges all failed. Chris Weidman was smoked by Dom Reyes, Jan Blachowicz retired Luke Rockhold, Jacare Souza's 2019 was abysmal and his LHW debut left nobody impressed while Yoel Romero and Anderson Silva stayed home at 185 lbs. If one was to remove Dominick Reyes from the conversation, the next in line would be two guys who have pretty much failed historically when given a major step up (Jan Blachowicz is not too far removed from a four fight losing streak and Corey Anderson has been KO'd by the likes of Gian Villante and Jimi Manuwa) while the likes of Nikita Krylov, Misha Cirkunov, Khalil Rountree and that one polish dude (Michal Oluwalewalebangbang) all sort of did nothing. Even prized prospect Johnny Walker had a topsy turvy 2019 punctuated by getting smelted by Corey Anderson. The UFC needs to end 2020 with one of two things set in stone; 1) A genuine challenge for Jon Jones or 2) an understanding that Jon will be leaving the division for good and the UFC will finally have to invest resources into rebuilding this morbid division.

Heavyweight- More of the same, baby.

Seriously. This division is A-ok. You got a bunch of new dudes beating the shit out of each other, every year 2-3 new doughy guys show up and make a bit of an impact, a new HW to get giddy about from Brazil or Europe or Russia every few months and the likes of Alistair Overeem, Derrick Lewis, Stefan Struve and Andrei Arlovski to tie this shit all together. Let's keep HW happy and dumb, right? The only complaint could be had in every division really; have your champs fighting more.

Women's Strawweight- ALSO more of the same

Seriously this division has really become one of the best in MMA full stop. It still has the well earned reputation of being a decision division but if one wants to be honest, the depth at the top of this place is UNREAL good. Joanna, Zhang, Andrade, Namajunas, Suarez and Ansaroff on their own merits are as strong a top six as any division can offer. Throw in a healthy mix of ladies like Alexa Grasso, Claudia Gadelha, Randa Markos, Carla Esparza, Cynthia Calvillo and Marina Rodriguez and you've got great depth below that. Even if there isn't an influx of exciting fun new names (I think Virna Jirandoba and Brianna Van Buren are really the only two new debutants worth really getting excited over), there's plenty of talent o be had here. This is MMA's most unpredictable division so keep giving us wacky madness then.

Women's Flyweight- An identity

I guess you could sum up a division by its champion and clearly Valentina Shevchenko is the perfect face for this division. She's really talented, sometimes compelling as a fighter but you can't name anything about her besides "She killed Jessica Eye and she has a bullet tattoo!" At this point, what could you say about the women's flyweight division? What's their identity? What makes the women's flyweight division unique? Is it not just a grab bag of fighters too small for 135 lbs, too big for 115 lbs and prospects who are still trying to cut their teeth throughout the division? Women's flyweight fights just feel like they exist, adding nothing but always appearing on shows. What's the key to figuring out this division? They need an identity that gets fans to better understand it.

Women's Bantamweight- Depth beyond Amanda Nunes

I think there's a really good chance that barring the emergence of some faces, this division will not see a woman on the same level of Amanda Nunes, GDR and Holly Holm. What this division needs is depth because Holly Holm is one foot out the door and GDR has already retired once already. Just sign a bunch of ladies!

#MMA #UFC