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#look how excited he is to exact his revenge
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Okay, keep your secrets...
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zvdvdlvr · 4 days
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spencer reid has a soulmate :)
Head up, nose clean. You repeated the phrase as you stepped out of the elevator, excited for your new internship at the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico.
You were 23, intellectually gifted, and quiet as all get-out. Because of how used to being alone you were, you assumed that the scientific community’s ‘groundbreaking proof’ of soulmates was completely absurd.
Almost everyone found their soulmate at 20-21, going and and clubbing or just going shopping. You knew that part of the reason you didn’t know your soulmate (or even knew if you had one) was because you didn’t look at people. You watched their movements and body language, you just didn’t look strangers in the eye.
That’s how you knew that there were a group of people watching you as you walked up the stairs to your employer’s office.
“Agent Hotchner?” You asked, knocking gently on the door.
The tall, dark-haired man stood up. “Sit, please.” You sat in the chair he gestured too after shaking his hand. “Yet again, I have to remind you that the things we see daily are not for weak stomached people. Our presence has been requested in Wisconsin, and we’re set to have a meeting in,” Hotch looked at his watch. “Twenty seconds. I understand that this is your first day, but from what I’ve seen from you, you are more than capable of fieldwork. Are you ready?”
You nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Good. You have your concealed carry license?”
You stood up and nodded. “When I was 21.”
“Good. Let’s get you introduced to the rest of the team.”
You remembered Rossi from when he personally requested to meet you one-on-one. He had wanted to have a… pleasant conversation with you. You understood why he wanted to check your morals.
Emily Prentiss smiled brightly at you even though she was clearly taken aback at your presence. Derek Morgan shook your hand and gave you a smile. Penelope Garcia was a ball of energy who pulled you into a tight hug, fussing over you like an older sister. She had a gorgeous smile. Jennifer Jareau was as polite as ever, shaking your hand and greeting you politely but something in her gaze you figured she might be happy to have a fresh face with new ideas.
“Where’s Reid?” Derek asked, looking around the table.
Jennifer shrugged. “Late. We’ll fill him in on the plane. Anyway…” the gorgeous immediately started to inform of you the kidnapping and killings of five men. They were all shot and killed in their homes with no signs of forced entry.
About two minutes in the discussion, the door swung open. You assumed the man was ‘Reid’. He shrugged of his bag and didn’t look up at until Jennifer kept going.
“Any sign of robbery? Anything missing?” Derek asked right after J.J. finished. You opened your own file, seeing the pictures closer. You couldn’t see the color of blood, but you could tell that the crime scene was clean. The only blood stemmed from the bullet to the head.
“No. The families of the victims said that nothing looked out of place or missing.”
Emily furrowed her eyebrows. “There was no other physical harm besides the cause of death? That’s bizarre.”
J.J. nodded.
“Could be a woman. Women are known for their aversion to ‘trophies’ or items they take from their victims. Maybe a prostitute… not many men would open their doors to women unless, for, you know,” you explained.
Silence fell over the room and you looked down. Clearly you had said something. “Sorry,” you mumbled.
“No, no, you’re right,” the late areival says, thumbing through his file. “There are no signs of rage or remorse and women are known for their emotional detachment or rage killings. All victims have a history of violence and sexual assult. This ccould very well be a woman trying to exact revenge. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it sooner,” Reid rambles, nodding as he pieces the puzzles together. “Sorry, what did you say your name wa…” he trails off, looking you in the eye.
Your mouth falls open as the world seems to erupt in the different black and grey hues of fire. Except this time you actually see the color. Your eyes are locked on Reid’s, disbelief painted all over your face.
“Y/n,” you whisper, eyes flickering to his rich brown hair, light pink lips, saucer-wide eyes, and heaving chest.
“Hello, soulmate. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”
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hotchnisslvr · 1 month
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“Power Struggle”
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Rating: M
Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 7.2k
Summary: For months, you and SSA Aaron Hotchner have been toeing the boundary between romance and your careers. When the unsub that's been killing women in Michigan by way of replicating Zeus' punishments from Greek mythology takes you as his next victim, it's up to Hotch and the rest of the BAU team to find you before it's too late. Hurt/comfort and angst with happy ending.
Tags: graphic depictions of violence, reader kidnapped by unsub, blood, implied SA, nudity, electrocution, scarring, hospitals
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“You’re telling me someone is out here killing people to recreate, what? Greek legends?” Sheriff McCullen’s brow pinches as he shakes his head.
“Legends are stories often loosely based on a real person or event to teach us a lesson. Mythology is based on supernatural or sacred lore and explains why things came to be. It’s a common mistake.” Reid speaks quickly and methodically, as if reciting from a textbook. “It’s straight out of the mythos,” he explains, his voice tinged with something akin to excitement as he approaches the whiteboard where photos of the victims had been pinned up for review. Using a ballpoint pen as a pointer, he taps the first image of the first victim. “Regina Manford, she was found tied to a boulder in Craig Lake State Park with her liver removed. Animal predation showed birds had pecked at her while she was still alive. In Greek mythology, Zeus did this to Prometheus to exact revenge on him after he stole fire to give to man.”
Reid moves on to the next victim, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did so. “Sarah Walters was found bound to an old water wheel that had been set on fire. Greek Mythology suggests this is a copy of Zeus’ punishment for Ixion.”
“And what did he do to deserve that?” asks the sheriff.
Reid’s lips form a tight line. “He was invited into Zeus’ home on Olympus. After attempting to seduce his wife, Hera, Zeus punished him by binding him to a wheel of fire cursed to spin forever toward the underworld. She might’ve smiled or even looked at him, and in his delusion believed she was a seductress deserving of punishment.”
“So, what? This guy sees himself as some sort of god?”
“We believe that is his delusion, yes,” answers Emily. “Each victim also bore signs of sexual trauma, this is something Zeus is also renowned for in the mythology. Our unsub thinks he’s infallible and that these women’s lives and deciding when and how these women live and die is his divine right.”
“Do we know if there will be more victims?” asks one of the detectives.
You step forward from your place between Morgan and Hotchner. “Given the number of victims Zeus punished within the mythology, we can assume he is not finished. These kills are two weeks apart. It’s been twelve days since the last body was found. We can only assume he’s currently hunting for his next victim. And when he finds one, he convinces her to go to a second location. It's once they leave the primary location that he attacks. In each case, the victim suffered a blow to the head, leaving a uniquely shaped gash in her forehead. This suggests that he strikes them with a distinct blunt object or even a ring that’s on his hand.”
“We need every man out on the streets,” Hotch states, his eyes hard as he scans the group of law enforcement gathered to receive the profile. “He stalks his victims in the city, often on the weekends when night life is busiest. He’s charming. He has no problem approaching women because he views himself as a deity and carries himself with the arrogance and confidence of one. He’s white, in his early to mid 30s, good looking, charming, and likely has a career that would’ve provided him with medical training.”
A female detective with short blonde hair sticks her pencil in the air. “How do we know that?”
“The incisions made on Regina’s body were clean, precise, and showed no signs of hesitation,” explains Rossi. “The M.E. also informed us that the hepatic artery was clamped off, meaning,” Rossi hesitates before continuing on, “meaning Regina Mansford was alive as her liver was being cut from her body.”
An uncomfortable murmuring breaks out. Hotch raises a hand, silencing them. Your mouth goes dry and you swallow, hoping your team doesn’t notice the way your eyes dilate when you look at him and the silent way in which he can command a room.
“This is why we need every available officer on the streets. Increase units in the downtown area. Have plain clothes officers on the streets. That’s where we’ll be. Thank you.” Hotch tucks his head and sweeps out of the bullpen, the rest of the team trailing after him into the conference room.
“Where do you want us?” asks Morgan as you shut the door to the conference room.
“Reid, I want you here working the geographical profile. See if there’s anything we missed that could bring us closer to a precise location where he’s kidnapping his victims. Rossi and JJ, I want you to go back to Sarah’s apartment and see if we missed anything that tells us where she was exactly on the night she was kidnapped. Derek and Emily take the north side of downtown.” He inclines his head toward you. “You and I will take the south side.”
His eyes linger on yours a moment longer than they ought to have. You dip your head and swiftly exit the room, jacket in hand as you prepare to brave not only the frigid Michigan cold but working one one-on-one with Hotch. This had been going on for months; subtle looks, brief touches where his fingers would slide over yours while passing off a case file…yet a part of you still wasn’t sure if it would ever go any further than that. You spend so much of your time with the team, it would be so easy to mistake one gesture for something that it wasn’t. Yet you knew that wasn’t true. You know behavior. You’re trained to recognize the subtlest of shifts in demeanor and body language and you know exactly what is going on.
You jump as someone pushes through the front door of the precinct. Emily’s gentle laugh disrupts your rumination. “Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She moves to stand closer to you as she zips her jacket. “The guys went to grab the cars.”
You nod and shove your hands in your pockets.
Emily arches a perfectly manicured brow. “What’s up?”
You school your expression and feign nonchalance. “Nothing, I just want to catch this guy before he hurts anyone else.”
Emily’s brow furrows and then straightens, a glimmer of knowing in her eye. “Something tells me there’s a different guy on your mind.”
Your heart skips a beat and you nearly choke on the crisp winter air. “What? I don’t—“ Your words falter as Derek and Hotch arrive, the SUVs humming to a gentle stop at the curb.
Emily eyes you, a sly smile curving one side of her red lips. “We’ll talk later.” She winks and steps forward to open the passenger side door, sliding inside and disappearing into the dark interior.
As you turn to move toward the SUV, Hotch is there, opening the door for you. The gesture surprises you, but it shouldn’t. He’d been doing little things like this for weeks now. You nod your head in thanks and as you turn your body to slide past him, his hand catches your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers glide against the small of your back, guiding your movement into the vehicle.
His hard eyes meet yours as he shuts the door and you’re grateful for the shadows inside the car as you feel your face flush bright red. Hotch slides into the driver’s seat with ease. He shifts the car into gear and pulls onto the road, heading in the direction of downtown.
After a few minutes, you open your mouth to disrupt the silence, but his cell rings. Hotch answers and places it on speaker as JJ’s voice floats through the receiver, “Hotch, we think we’ve got something at Sarah Walters apartment.”
“What’s that?” you ask.
“There’s a sticky note in her trash can,” a garbled sound echoes through the speaker as she shifts the phone. The sound of paper crinkles as she reads, “Tony’s at 9, does that mean anything? Has Garcia come across a Tony in any of her research into the victims’ lives? Maybe an Anthony?”
An image of a neon sign flashes across your mind’s eye. “It’s a bar,” you say matter-of-factly.
“A bar?”
“I remember seeing the sign on our drive-in. It’s a bar on the south side of downtown. That could be where he’s meeting these women.”
“We’re only a few blocks away, we’ll head there now. Thank you, JJ.” He hangs up and slips the phone into his jacket pocket.
“How do you want to play this?” you ask.
“We go in, make observations, see if we can identify anyone that matches the profile.”
You smirk and a small laugh escapes your lips.
“Something funny?” Hotch asks, his voice low in his throat.
You purse your lips, pausing before you proceed. “If we go in looking like feds, we’ll scare this guy away.” You tilt your head, considering. “Well, one of us anyway.”
A slight twitch in his brow is the only indication your words have just barely gotten under his skin. “Touched a nerve, sir?”
As the traffic light ahead blinks red, he eases the car to a stop. He breathes out slowly, the amber glow of the stoplight reflecting in his eyes. In less than two heartbeats, he thrusts the car into park and with both hands clasps your face, drawing you in to kiss you with such fervor white spots dot your vision. It takes a moment to process the heat of his mouth on yours and the way his tongue slides between your lips, and before you can truly reciprocate the light turns green and he pulls back, his breathing ragged against your mouth as his forehead touches yours. “Be careful when and how you choose to call me sir.”
Before you can exhale, his eyes are on the road again and you’re driving deeper into downtown.
“Understood,” and then you add, almost imperceptibly, “sir.”
A small smile quirks at the corner of his lips, but he says nothing more as you approach your destination.
It's nearing 9:30pm when you pull up on the street parallel to Tony’s. People trickle in and out of the bar in groups of twos and threes; most are young, in their mid to late twenties.
“Right,” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to exit the vehicle. “Stay here.”
“Excuse me?” Hotch asks, reaching over your lap and grabbing your wrist to stay your hand from popping the door open. Your breathing stills and he just barely turns his face toward yours. “Since when do you give me orders?”
Unsure where the confidence to challenge him comes from, you lean in near his ear. You swallow once before speaking. “I think you like taking them.” Feeling incredibly brazen, you nip at his ear once and as the unexpected gesture disarms him; flick your wrist out of his grasp and pop the door open. You slide out of the car and are immediately greeted by the frigid January air eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms. Extending an arm overhead to hang on to the frame of the SUV; you lean down into the cab of the vehicle. “I’ve got you right here,” you say as you tap the hidden earpiece. “Let me know if you see anyone from the outside that fits the profile.”
Hotch eyes you and there’s a fierceness in his gaze. You wonder if he’s thinking of how he’ll ultimately retaliate for your little role reversal now that he’s gone and upped the ante in this little game of cat and mouse. “See you soon,” you wink and slam the door shut.
As you approach the bar, you make sure your coat is buttoned in a way that hides your sidearm and credentials from sight. The bouncer doesn’t even pretend to ask for an ID as you approach and move through the front door with ease. As you cross through the threshold, your senses are assaulted by the smell of beer on tap, the sharp tang of liquor, grease, and an amalgamation of perfumes and colognes.
Immediately you begin scanning the room. You note the layout of the bar: three exits for patrons, the one you just came in through, one near the bathrooms for cigarette smokers, and an emergency exit on the far right wall near to the kitchen. There are three pool tables all of which are occupied as well as three dart boards along the far wall. Groups of friends engage one another and dates carry on without a hitch. You approach the bar, which is centered along the far wall. Stools line the high countertop and behind the bar, two women work to fulfill the never-ending drink orders. You approach the bar and slide into one of the empty seats, relaxing your shoulders as you do so, and order a rum and coke that you don’t plan on drinking.
After a moment the bartender drops a cocktail napkin in front of you and places the drink on top. You thank her and stir the contents of the drink with the swizzle stick popped inside.
“Is this seat taken?” an unfamiliar voice causes the hair on the back of your neck to prickle and you know immediately that it’s him.
Painting on a saccharine sweet smile, you turn toward the voice. A white man, standing at about 6’2”, is smiling down at you. The neon lights behind the bar reflect in his blue-gray eyes and his honey blonde hair falls in soft waves to his shoulders. “Please,” you say demurely and gesture toward the seat. You tell him your name and continue smiling.
“Ronan Carlson,” he introduces himself as he slides in beside you and adjusts the lapels on his leather jacket, a fake Rolex peeking out from his sleeve. He’s preening, you think to yourself. The bartender approaches from behind the bar and he smiles, the curve of his lips the opening act of his charming performance. “I’ll have what she’s having, thank you.” He pulls a roll of cash from the inner pocket of his jacket, flips through several bills, and pulls a $100 bill free before sliding it across the counter to her.
The bartender’s eyes widen in surprise and he winks at her. She nods her thanks and turns to make his drink.
“That was very kind of you,” I say, stirring my drink for the thirteenth time.
He shrugs and tips the baseball cap he’s wearing down over his eyes and you know it’s to obstruct the view the cameras have of him. “It’s only money, and I think I may have made her night.” He inclines his head toward the bartender whose head is bent close to the other woman’s. She’s smiling wide and shows her the $100 bill.
Internally, you roll your eyes hard, but externally you smile and look at him from beneath your lashes. “You must have a great job, what do you do for work?”
His hand flexes as he sets his drink down on the counter and you note the two chunky platinum rings he wears on his right hand. There are symbols etched into them offset by different colored stones, but you don’t want him to catch you staring as he answers, “I’m in business for myself these days,” he says with no further explanation. “Though I used to be in the military.”
You feign surprise, though you were hopeful he’d continue to divulge information. “The military, wow. Let me guess,” you pause and allow your eyes to slowly scan him from head to toe. You remember the profile. “Army…medic.”
“Reign it in,” you hear Hotchner’s voice through the earpiece. “Be mindful of how much you reveal to him. Don’t let him know you know more about him than he’s letting on.”
You watch him assess you and your read into him. One blonde brow creeps up toward his hairline and that wicked smile curves his lips again. “Excellent guess, how do you figure?”
Leaning on to your forearms, you push your drink aside and slide your hand over his and you don’t miss the way his fingers tense at your touch.
“It’s the hands,” you say coyly. “You look like you know how to handle yourself.” He relaxes under your touch and a heat ignites in his eyes that makes your stomach churn, but you don’t let it show on your face. “You look like you know how to handle a lot of things.”
He licks his lips and turns the ring on his finger. “Tell you what,” he says as he picks up his drink. He places the glass to his lips and downs its contents. “Why don’t we get out of here?” He looks down at you from beneath dark lashes. “And I’ll show you just how much I can handle.”
You stand up and flash him a grin. “Let me quickly freshen up and I’ll meet you out front.”
His lips quirk into a smirk, “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
You smile as you slip away toward the bathroom. As you push through the crowd you inform Hotch that the unsub is on his way out.
“There’s a line growing out the door,” he answers over the earpiece. “Does the description match the profile?”
“To a T,” you answer as you push past a couple with their tongues in each other's mouths. The amount of patrons has increased dramatically over the last hour. The volume of the music makes it hard to hear through the earpiece. You push your way into the restroom and are surprised to find it empty. Fortunately, the outside noise is muffled. You begin to describe Ronan’s appearance and note the jacket and hat he’s wearing. “He’s wearing two oddly shaped rings,” you add. “I think it’s what’s caused the unusual injury to the victims’ faces.”
“I’ve got him. He’s cutting through the line toward the parking lot.” You hear the car door open and slam.
“Got it, I’ll be right there.”
“Good work,” Hotch says over the open line.
You smile to yourself as you unbutton your jacket, glad to be on the receiving end of his praise. For a split second you wonder what else you could be on the receiving end of if you continue to play this game with him. After the case, you remind yourself. Priorities. Priority number one is getting this sick bastard off the street, and he’s right here within your grasp. You shoulder the door as you reach for your gun, positioning your thumb over the rotating hood to dislodge your weapon from its holster.
Over the speakers, an employee is calling to celebrate someone’s birthday. The crowd is distracted and pushing toward the source of celebration. The bar erupts into an off key rendition of Happy Birthday but you don’t hear it as 30,000 volts of electricity course through your veins. Your muscles spasm and lock up as you fall forward. Pain radiates from your abdomen in waves that crash over you again and again. You try to tell your body what to do as strong arms catch you and pull you into a chest that smells like cigarette smoke, but your limbs don’t cooperate. You feel his nose root into your hair as his lips find your ear. “How’s that for capable?”
As he shoulders your weight and steers you out through the emergency exit you hear Hotch’s voice in your ear. “It’s not him!” There’s an edge of panic in his voice as he says your name. “Do you copy? It’s not him. He gave another man $500 to wear his hat and jacket into the parking lot. It’s not him. Do you have eyes on him?”
Dark spots the edges of your vision as he drags your dead body weight. You try to focus all of your ability on getting out any words that can signal to Hotchner what’s happening, any at all but your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton.”
You hear the tinkling of keys and a door slide open. Pain rattles through your skull as he throws you into the back of whatever vehicle he’s operating. Pain slices through your wrists as zip ties slice through the skin there. Through tunnel vision you see him leering at you. He’s backlit by the streetlights.
As his fist flies toward you, you finally manage one word.
“Aaron.”
When you come to, the first thing you feel before the splitting pain in your head threatens to cleave your mind in two, is cold.
Your mouth is dry, but as you move to lick your lips you realize you can’t because there’s a gag in your mouth. You try to move your hands, but they’re bound too. Zip ties cut into each wrist, securing them at your sides on the legs of a wooden chair. When you try to shift the chair, you learn that it’s bolted to the floor and your legs are spread open; zip ties at your knees and ankles keep them apart. Except for your bra and underwear, you’re naked. He undressed you. You feel the wound from the stun gun before you glance down at your stomach and see the two bloody pinpricks in your abdomen. You feel your heart rate increase as panic begins to set in. Do not panic , you tell yourself as you take a steadying breath. The minute you start to panic, you’re dead. You close your eyes and piece together the last dredges of your memory.
Tony’s. Sitting at the bar. The unsub. Ronan. Hotch was in pursuit. And then there was just pain.
Hotch.
The pain in your skull is overwhelming and you’re not sure if you can feel the earpiece anymore.
“Hotch,” you attempt to say through the gag. “Hotch, do you read me?”
You close your eyes as hot tears brim along your lash line when there’s no response. The signal is out of range or the unsub found the earpiece and removed it.
A door creaks open on squeaky hinges and your eyes dart toward the source of the sound. Ronan walks through the door with a sick smile on his face. As he saunters toward you, he rolls the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows. Without looking away from you, his arm drops to his side and he scoops a folding metal chair with one hand, carrying it with him as he edges closer to you.
You flinch as he cracks the chair down in front of you, forcing it open. He chuckles as he takes a seat. His eyes skirt the length of your body and you wish any limb were free to deliver a blow to his smug face.
He reaches into his back pocket and withdraws your badge. He flips it open and holds it up to your face, the way his eyes flit between you and your credentials makes your lip curl.
“An FBI agent,” he says slowly. He slaps your credentials shut against his denim-clad thighs. “Hot damn!” he shouts and whoops. He throws your badge to the wayside and it clatters against the cement floor. “I’m going to take my time with you.”
It could’ve been hours. It could’ve been minutes. The torture is unrelenting and the pain is unending. Your chest heaves as you brace yourself for the next surge of electricity. Ronan, if that’s even his real name, twists the knob on the amplifier and taps the jumper cable clamps in his hands together. He smiles when he hears the buzz of electricity between them. As he presses them into your thighs, you cry out in pain as the shockwaves paralyze your body and mind and the pain overwhelms you.
“YES!” he roars as he pulls them away from you. He’d taken his flannel off, but now he peels off his t-shirt, balls it up, and uses it to wipe the sweat off of his face.
With the voltage no longer coursing through your veins, you slump forward, chest heaving as your scrambled brain fights to stay alert.
He drops the cables and clasps your face in his hand, forcing your chin up to meet his wild eyes. “You just don’t quit, do you? You're special.” He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs as if he cherishes what he’s doing to you. “You are worthy of a god.”
When you come to Ronan is watching you. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands.
“She wakes,” he muses.
You glare at him and his brow pinches. He purses his lips together like he’s been stung, but his eyes are alight with amusement.
“You,” he says, gesturing up and down your body, “look beautiful.”
You don’t need to look down to know the number of bloodied burn wounds spanning the lengths of your legs. If you couldn’t keep track of any other thought, the count was all that kept you grounded. There were ten. Five on each leg. Your wrists and ankles bled from the way you’d pulled against them with every shock he delivered.
He reaches forward and this time you don’t flinch. He hooks two fingers into the gag and pulls it down over your chin, his fingers trailing your lips as he does so.
“Here,” he says, bringing a bottle of water to your lips. “Drink.”
You clamp your lips shut and turn your face away. He laughs and shakes his head. “Come on now, don’t refuse me. That’s not how you show gratitude when a god shows you mercy.”
You muster as much hatred into your stare as you focus your attention back on him. “Mercy?” you hiss, and your voice is hoarse from screaming against the gag. It hurts to speak. You pull against your restraints. “This is what you call mercy?”
“I’m only testing you to see if you’re worthy,” he says by way of explanation. "You've lasted longer than the others."
“Worthy of what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.
“To be my Hera.”
“How is what you’re doing to me, what you did to those other women, going to help you find her?”
“They weren’t worthy,” he answered. “They couldn’t take my power like you could, my lightning. They were false. They needed to be punished.”
He leans in, his lips close enough to yours that you can feel his smoky breath on your skin. “But you, you deserve to be rewarded.” Your skin bristles at his words. His lips find your jawline and you grimace as he drags them up the side of your face. When he pulls away, dried blood flakes onto his skin.
“Don’t be afraid,” he soothes as he smoothes your sweat-drenched hair away from your face. “You’ll enjoy it.”
Unable to suffer any more of his poisonous bullshit, you rear your head back and slam it forward. Pain explodes behind your forehead, but it’s worth it to hear the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. He roars in pain and clutches his bleeding nose. White light blinds you as he backhands you and curses your name. His ring splits the skin of your cheek open. The force of the blow causes you to bite your lip and you feel your teeth cut into the chapped skin there. You spit blood at him, angering him further.
“You are false!” he screams, spittle flying from his mouth as he shoves the gag back into your mouth. “You are not her!” He moves to pick up the jumper cables, twisting the knob of the amplifier all the way up causing the bulbs overhead to flicker. You know this is it. If he touches you with those, it will kill you.
Bracing yourself for the killing blow, you go to the grave knowing you did not give in to this bastard.
It never lands.
Instead, three shots ring out and he’s falling to the floor dead at your feet. As the unsub’s body falls, Hotchner’s frame comes into view and a choked sob escapes your lips. He holsters his weapon and runs to you. Emily and Morgan are right behind him. Morgan passes Hotch a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and he makes quick work of the zip ties binding you to the chair. From the corner of your eye, you see Emily turn off the amplifier and check Ronan’s pulse.
Unable to hold yourself up, you fall forward into his ready arms, letting yours fall over his shoulders. Hotch drops to his knee to support your weight. “You’re okay,” he says as he pulls the gag free from your mouth and you sob into his chest. He smooths your hair back from your face, his eyes assessing the damage done to you. Blood stains his shirt, your blood.
“Morgan, your jacket.” Hotch orders.
Without hesitation, Morgan unfastens his bulletproof vest and unzips his jacket. He passes it to Hotch who drapes it around your shoulders in an attempt to preserve some of your modesty.
“I need a medic!” he shouts before directing his attention back to you.
Your eyes waver as you try to keep them open. You lock in on the depths of his warm brown eyes. “You’re going to be fine,” he says but his voice sounds far away.
“He wanted someone to be his Hera,” you say weakly.
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Hotch soothes.
You swallow and it hurts your throat to do so. Your lips crack open, “You found me.”
Hotch cradles your head against his chest. “Of course I did.”
You wince as the sound of a gurney crashes into the room, the metal wheels squealing as it draws near. Your head swims as you’re swept into the air and laid out on its cushiony bed. A light shines in your eyes and voices are overlapping. Blindly, you use what strength you have left to drop your hand off the side. Unable to focus your attention on where he is, you know he’ll hear you. “Don’t leave me.”
And as you lose consciousness, you feel his hand slip into yours.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
A steady beeping fills your ears as you slowly come to. Your eyes feel bruised and you don’t think you have it in you to open them, but you feel something around your wrists and bolt upright. Pain crashes over you in a wave. It was a dream. You’re still bound in that basement. The beeping increases, growing louder and faster. Someone says your name and you feel hands on your shoulders. You try to swing your fist and are surprised when your arm follows through and makes contact with flesh. Did you break through the zip ties? You hear your name again, clearer this time. A man. He’s asking you to stop, to relax.
“It’s me,” he repeats and says your name again. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital.” He says your name again. “It’s me, it’s Aaron.”
You stop fighting and blink hard. Hotchner’s stern face comes into view, except there’s concern wavering in the depths of his brown eyes. His brow softens as you relax. A small smile turns the corners of his lips. “Hey there,” he says. A nurse rushes into the room and he raises a hand, “We’re fine, here. Thank you.”
The nurse looks at you and you nod. She looks unsure about leaving but ultimately relents. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”
Aaron cups the back of your head in one of his hands and gently begins to lower you back down onto the pillows behind you. You allow him to guide you and feel the tension ease from your muscles as your back sinks into the surprisingly plush hospital pillow.
As the adrenaline wears off, you’re finally able to take stock of your injuries as the pain quickly makes itself known. You feel your pulse beating in your skull, pounding at your temples, eyebrow, and cheekbone. With shaky fingers, you touch the places where you remember the unsub striking you. You feel a thick bandage taped over your right eyebrow and steri-strips over your cheek. Your lip is swollen from where you bit it.
Bandages encircle your wrists and there’s an IV stuck in your hand. You’ve been dressed in a hospital gown and the sheets are drawn up to your waist covering the burn wounds. You don't have to see them to know how bad they look. The pain is telling enough.
“Is he dead?” you ask, lowering your hand back down to the bed.
Hotch’s lips form a tight line. “Yes.”
You blink back tears as that information sinks in. “Good,” you whisper in a choked voice. You blink and allow your head to loll to the side. A colorful bouquet of roses and carnations dotted with plastic ladybugs and butterflies sits in a clear vase on the side table.
You smile, “Garcia?”
Hotch smiles in turn. “It was tough to convince her to go home and get some sleep, but I promised her I wouldn’t leave you alone. Even then, it was still a hard-fought battle.”
You chuckle and wince as the movement irritates your injuries.
Hotch telegraphs his next move, and you know it’s to avoid startling you. He cups his hand over your uninjured cheek and strokes the skin there with his thumb.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he says, and his voice sounds tired and pained. “I should’ve gone inside with you.”
“Hotch, don’t.” You reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrist. “Don’t do that to yourself. He didn’t know I was with the FBI until after he took me. If you’d been there, he might’ve pegged us as law enforcement and taken off. He might still be out there and we’d be finding another dead woman in a matter of days. You know I’m right.”
Hotch closes his eyes and heaves a heavy sigh. “I could hear you.”
“What?” you whisper. You try to sit up and wince as the movement stings the wounds in your legs and abdomen. Hotch stands and helps adjust the pillows behind your back before sitting back down in the chair at your bedside.
“Not for very long. He drove out of range, but I heard him speaking to you. I heard the blows land. I heard your head smack against the floor when he threw you in the van.” He stops and shakes his head. “I felt so helpless. I was afraid. I couldn’t get to you, just like,” his voice catches in his throat. “just like I couldn’t get to Haley.”
Your heart breaks for him as he speaks. You reach for his hand and take it, squeezing it. “Aaron, you did get to me. You saved my life.”
He clears his throat and swallows. “Yes, but we were almost too late.”
“But you weren’t,” you state, your tone firm. “Aaron, look at me.”
He hesitates and inhales deeply before lifting his gaze to yours. The corners of his eyes soften as he meets yours and you smile. You gently tug his hand, “Come here.”
Hotch glances toward the door and then back at you, “The doctor—“
“Isn’t going to do shit,” you finish. “I’m the one that endured hours of torture. Pretty sure I’m allowed some close comfort.”
He lets out a shallow laugh. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Standing, he shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair. With one hand he loosens his tie until he’s able to pull it up and over his head. He tosses it onto the chair and circumnavigates the bed, assessing the best way to join you on the small mattress.
You groan as you slide over. Hotch reaches out to stop you but you silence him with a pointed look. “Mind the IV,” you say as you pat the space beside you.
Hotch acquiesces, using the tips of his fingers to raise the IV drip enough for him to slide into bed beside you. He slips an arm around you and drops the feed. It falls across his torso. The feel of his arm around you is comforting, like a security blanket, like safety. You relax into him, and rest your head on his chest. His lips brush against your bandaged brow.
“Not quite how I imagined we’d first be sharing a bed,” you joke softly as you nuzzle in deeper against the wide plane of his chest.
You feel him smile against your hair. “Only you could joke at a time like this.”
“If I can’t laugh at what’s happened, I’ll never be able to close my eyes at night.”
“Well, if that’s the case.” He rubs the bare skin of your arm in small circles. “I’ll be there until you can.”
You turn your head to look at him then, your heart full. This is happening. His eyes are on yours and you push yourself toward him ever so slightly. He closes the small gap between you and presses his lips to yours. It wasn’t hungry and primal like the kiss in the car. There would be plenty of time for that later. This kiss was light, tender…healing.
“Sir, I’m sorry. I tried to go home, I really did but as soon as I got there I—” Garcia’s voice abruptly cuts off. You look up and her initial look of surprise turns to one of abject joy.
You feel your cheeks flush as Emily and Morgan appear in the doorway behind her. Morgan’s eyes widen and Emily’s brow arches as a smile curves her lips.
“I, uh, brought backup.” Penelope giggles. She remembers she’s holding something. “And cookies! I couldn’t sleep, so I baked. I figured I could bribe you into going home and getting some sleep.” Her words leave her mouth at a mile a minute. “I thought you’d fight me on it, so I brought some muscle.” She gestures with a tilt of her head. “They’re the muscle.”
Morgan exhales and points a finger at you and Hotch. “Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?”
Emily elbows him and he drops his arm. She takes the tray from Garcia and walks it over to the side table where she places it next to the flowers. She winks at you as she turns back to Garcia and Morgan. “It’s about time,” she says.
Penelope laughs as she hooks her arm in Emily’s. “What's it been? Two, three months?”
Morgan guffaws. “Months?”
Penelope pats his face with a ring-adorned hand. “My sweet oblivious profiler. Come on, hot stuff.” She takes him by the hand and leads him from the room. Emily shakes her head and laughs. “Men.”
“Safe to say the team knows.”
Hotch releases a breathy laugh and kisses your forehead again. “I know what will be the first thing on the agenda at tomorrow’s debriefing.”
6 weeks. It had been 6 weeks since you’d pressed the elevator button that would bring you back to the office. The weight of your gun feels right where it sits upon your hip, your gait more familiar to you now than when it wasn’t holstered to your side. You nervously adjust the grip on your go bag. You’d packed and repacked it the night before.
This morning as you were getting out of the shower, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your cheek had healed nicely though the skin on your brow that had been split by the unsub’s ring had scarred, severing the tail end of your eyebrow from the rest of it. The ligature marks around your wrists and ankles had healed and the skin was smooth once more. The stun gun had scarred your abdomen, but all that remained were two purple pinpricks of scar tissue no bigger than the size of an infant’s thumbnail.
Your legs are a different story. The front of your thighs are an array of mottled scar tissue. One burn had gone so deep that they’d needed to graft skin from your calf to salvage it. The wounds no longer hurt physically, but you’d woken up from nightmares on more than one occasion.
You were never alone though. Garcia worked remotely on secure laptops with VPNs as often as she was able. Rossi brought you home-cooked Italian at least twice a week and talked with you over numerous glasses of red wine. Reid brought black-and-white foreign existentialist films that you didn’t understand, but his enthusiasm as he watched made you happy all the same. Emily and Morgan brought coffee and donuts as often as they could and Hotch…if he wasn’t at the office or visiting Jack, he was with you. On several occasions, he brought Jack. Jack would sit on the bed beside you, playing with his toys, narrating the adventures of his action figures as Aaron stood in the doorway, smiling. At night, when you had woken in a cold sweat, Aaron was there with a washcloth to wipe it away. When the bandages had stuck to your burn wounds and it felt like your skin was being peeled apart, he got your pain medicine and helped change the dressings, holding you until the pain had passed.
You blink as the elevator dings, signaling you’ve reached your destination. You take a deep breath and smooth down the front of your blouse as the door opens wide. Everything looks the same, yet everything feels like it's changed as you approach the desk you occupy perpendicular to Emily’s. A smile crosses your lips as you see the Welcome Bac k card on your desk. Two vases of flowers sit behind the card. One is almost exactly like the one from the hospital so you know it’s from Garcia. The other, a bouquet of purple tulips, has a note attached to it. You open the note and read it.
Glad to have you back. Things haven’t been the same around here without you. -AH
Hotch. You should’ve known. You smile and tuck the note into your purse.
“Hey, hey, look who’s finally decided to get her ass back to work.” Morgan’s charming laugh is followed by Emily chastising him.
“Ignore him,” she says as she places a steaming mug of coffee on your desk.
“You’re a godsend,” you say by way of thanks and take a long drink. Two sugars, no milk, just the way you like. “Wow, Emily, that’s perfect. I needed this.”
“How come you don’t remember how I take my coffee?” Morgan asks pointedly.
She shrugs, “Chicks before dicks, Derek.”
You sputter and choke on your coffee.
“Look,” he says as he pats you on the back. “Her first day back and you’re gonna kill her.”
At that moment JJ passes by with a file in hand. She raises it in the air and gestures to the conference room. “We got a case.” She smiles at you warmly. “It’s good to have you back.”
Together, you, Morgan, and Emily enter the conference room where Reid, Hotch, and Rossi have already gathered. Once you’re all sat, JJ begins presenting the case. You review current victims and why the Sacramento Police Department has invited you onto the case
“Sacramento PD is expecting us this afternoon. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. Wheels up in thirty, understood?”
A chorus of ‘yes sirs’ echo throughout the room. As the team gathers their belongings and moves to leave, you wait for Hotch to catch your eye. You wink at him before mouthing, “Yes, sir.”
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cannellee · 7 months
Note
Are you taking request at this time? If so may I request alpha!kakucho x omega!reader hc please?
TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ★
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୨୧ alpha! Kakucho x omega! Reader
— tokyo revengers a/b/o headcanons
cw : sex, yandereish if you squint
my masterlist : ☆
(sorry for the long wait!!)
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alpha kakucho is exactly what you would expect of him : sweet, respectful, loving, reliable, attentive, caring and composed.
he has little to no flaws as a lover and alpha.
he knows the exact thing to say or do when you're upset, anxious or needy.
kakucho cares so much for you it's frightening how dedicated he is to you, like your loyal devotee.
in other words, kakucho's a worshipper.
you're his precious omega who needs his care and attention, you're delicate and kakucho just feels so grateful for the attention he receives from you.
he's proud but most of all, he's soo grateful for how much you love him. what did he do to deserve it?
kakucho doesn't realise his own worth, he doesn't realise that he's actually the best alpha you've ever had.
he picks you up from school, a bag full of snacks. he takes you to a lovely deserted place where he can cuddle with you.
he can't help but try his best to spoil you.
kakucho is very shy about scenting you, although it's his favourite way of claiming you. he might not look like it, but he's a possessive alpha.
the first courting gift you ever received from him was jewellery, a pretty necklace. simple but fancy looking.
this was right after he knocked out two alphas who were harassing you at the back of your school building.
kakucho had finally decided to properly court you, you were perfect and despite his hesitation he would never forgive himself if his cowardice was the reason he gave you up to another alpha.
when he looked for you, he found you cornered by two alphas. the sight of your small frame in front of those beasts triggered something in him he never thought he had.
and that's precisely when you fell even harder in love with him. kakucho gave you his love and protection, he was everything you could hope for.
you can say that he's a bit controlling at times though. he tries not to, he knows he shouldn't invide your private life like this and asks you so many questions ; he doesn't want to act like your previous alpha. but he has a hard time trusting others and learning that you're meeting up with someone he doesn't know has him worried.
despite his very kind personality, expect kakucho to start a fight if you're the one involved. he doesn't tolerate any kind of disrespect directed at you.
he treats you like you're a doll made of glass, he's careful with you. that's why you're surprised the first time he raises his voice at someone else.
you're his most precious thing in his life, kakucho would never let anyone hurt you, degrade you or anything of the sort.
his life revolves around you, but in a healthy way though.
he'll see something at a store and immediately think of how you would love it. notices cute collars while passing by a shop and can't help but imagine your pretty neck wearing it, he could put his name on it, or just his initials? either way it's a sign that you're his, and kakucho is all about subtle marks of possession.
it's the same when he sees something like a big soft plushie that he knows you would love in your nest.
probably gathers a ton of gifts in a basket and gives it to you.
that's his way of showing his appreciation and gratitude for everything you've done for him and your perseverance at getting to know him. he knows he can be hard to get close to, that's why he admires how you managed to break his barriers.
kakucho is weak for your scent.
now I know every alpha is crazy for their omega's scent, but kakucho is a different breed. he's sooo desperate when it comes to his cute little mate.
always burying his nose to wherever your smell is the strongest. dropping everything he was doing when he just as simply as catch a bit of your aroma, so excited to see his omega.
he follows you everywhere too. he's quiet and collected and so polite, kakucho lets you do basically anything.
you want to buy this? fine, he will pay and only ask for a small kiss in return. you want to braid his hair? it's fine for him as long as you're happy! you desperately need a specific snack? at the middle of the night? fine, he'll go buy it for you, just stay inside in the warmth of your nest and that's enough for him!
kakucho is the best. that's it.
NSFW
now kakucho is unsurprisingly very soft and attentive when you two are at it.
he takes his role as an alpha very seriously and accidentally hurting you would make him feel so so bad.
that's why he prefers to take things slow ; he takes his time, properly scenting you to make you feel loved and appreciated.
he kisses you anywhere he can, slowing down a bit when he gets to the bite mark he did on your neck.
he 100% favours the positions which allow him to appreciate your facial expressions when he's inside you.
there are things he will never say out loud, but when he's drunk off your scent and witnessing your fucked out face, he's always saying everything that crosses his mind. and you love his honesty.
but he's always making sure you're aware he's pleased, calling you his good girl and his sweet omega. he'll never let a chance to praise you pass!
when he's in rut, he manages to keep his cool, he's composed enough to act decent around you, unlike a lot of alphas.
he will always wordlessly make you feel loved and claimed, his primal instincts taking over him for a few days.
he still remains extremely soft with you, a simple scolding from you is enough to stop him in his track.
he tries so hard to please his omega first, but when he's in rut his mind is so hazy it's hard:(
but he's not exactly rough either, just extremely possessive and protective.
growls and snarls the few days before his rut starts.
you've come to detect the signs of his pre-rut quite easily and now you're acting more clingy and submissive to appease him.
when you're in heat though, expect him to be at your side 24/7. he just can't leave you when you're in such a vulnerable state.
absolutely fucks you whenever and wherever if you're the one asking. but he will bring you back to the comfort and safety of your home first.
kakucho can't risk making you stressed although he knows he can easily protect you, you need familiar surroundings during this period.
he's really attentive and won't deny any of your request<3
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Text
Absolution
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Azriel x Reader(N)
Summary: Two lovers separated out of necessity finally reunite, only for a brief tryst.
A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. It's an extended universe for a plot I was working with details tbd but doesn't involve much plot here. So it should be an easy read. This is my first ever Tumblr publish and it's scary!! So be kind. Hope you enjoy!
Word count: ~4.5k
Warning: NSFW, 18+ SMUT, f!receiving, m!receiving(barely), sappy start+spicy middle+angsty end (i guess), voice kink, p in v. Mentions of OC other than reader[not enough editing/proofreading/formatting]
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Azriel stepped into the room desperately holding on to the moment, afraid Crone Mother would change her mind. N sat on the balcony—like every evening, on the floor, her legs crossed, her hands clasped in her lap. The curtains came alive with the touch of a gentle breeze to guard her from him. Her sheer dress melded with her body under the radiance of the fading sun, her skin aglow as if made of stars and gold. Summer flowers adorned her hair, tucked into the braid that unravelled after the day’s practices.
His shadows peeked over his shoulders and swarmed his hands buzzing with excitement. With each silent step, he prayed he didn’t break her trance. He settled before her—bringing his knees to his chest, he rested his elbows on them, and his wings tucked tight to his body.
The hue of the setting sun made everything heavenly about her—soft, ethereal. Wisps of hair teasing her cheeks, the knowing smile on her lips, the slight flutter of her eyelids under his stare. A sigh escaped Azriel’s lips. It was a worthless attempt to hide his presence from her, the one who held the sight. 
Azriel wasn’t a fool to waste the mercy bestowed upon him after months of longing to be close to his beloved. He stretched on the floor, his head finding its rightful place in her lap, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her scent and warmth made their bond burn brighter and he sighed in contentment.
After long minutes, N rested her palm on his head. Her fingers carded through his hair, and her nails scratched his scalp the way he liked. A thumb teased the shell of his ear and his wings responded with a sudden tremor.
Azriel smiled. He buried his face into her thigh. Air shifted around them as her body answered to his touches and breaths. Despite the need clawing in his chest, he chose to wait a few minutes, to savour the comfort of her simple touch.
N broke the silence. ‘How was your day?’ Her voice was as sweet as ever.
‘Long. Excruciatingly long,’ sighed Azriel. ‘I started with your friends from the armoury today. Until your mother sent me to the gardens.’ He remembered the smile on the older woman’s face when she took him away from the others. A secretive, mischievous one. ‘She enjoys testing me a bit much. She made me tend to your roses.’
N laughed, the sound sending a shiver through him. ‘That must have been a vision. Maybe she’s exacting revenge for how you treated her back home.’
Azriel’s heart thudded in his chest. Home. No matter what Crone Mother said, N had one home. It was with him, in Night Court. ‘I think she’s forgotten all that. She’s more interested in stealing you from me.’ His arms tightened around her and his shadows whirled around them emphasising their master’s possessiveness, ‘But I don’t mind. As long as she lets me be with you for a while.’ His lips twitched. ‘Did you know everyone here addresses me as your mate?’
Another laugh broke through her lips, ‘They're not wrong.’
‘No, they are not.’ Azriel finally looked up. Her eyes were already on his face. ‘I’ve been called many names over centuries. Shadowsinger. Spymaster. But this one,’ he leaned up to her face, ‘I like the most. To be known as yours before they even know my name.’ He got to his knees and trailed a knuckle along her jaw. ‘I’d like that for the rest of my life.’ Their bond strummed a tune so loud that rendered him senseless. ‘I want to have a life with you. A home, a family. Anything you want, any way you want. As long as you want that too.’
‘You mean that.’ N stated as if she needed to reassure herself. She stared at him with a mask of impassivity on her face that almost rivalled his own as a spy. Then, she smiled. ‘But I’ll have you know there will be more tests from Crone Mother.’
'I’ll suffer anything for you,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘So that’s a yes?’ N nodded before her eyes sparkled with mirth. ‘What is it?’ His senses warned him, his shadows stood alert on his shoulders. 
‘Well, technically, we’re married.’
Silence fell between them. Azriel’s fingers left her skin.
‘What?’
N shrugged. ‘Do you remember the first time we duelled?’ Her voice was steady but her hesitance broke through at the sight of the male who sat frozen in front of her. ‘You made me bleed. You proved you were my equal. And, it all happened after the bond snapped for you.’
Azriel remembered that day. He had wanted to impress her. It was the day he felt the warmth of her breath on him for the first time. For days and nights to come, he relived those moments until his skin prickled with heat.
N’s unsure laughter died soon when he didn’t even blink. His shadows retreated. His end of their bond quietened, alarming her. 
Finally, he said, ‘All this time you were my wife?’
Her breath stuck to her throat. ‘According to our custom, yes.’
‘And you kept that a secret.’ His wings flared behind him to their full glory and his eyes narrowed. ‘What did we discuss about your secrets?’
N leaned back, ‘Was I supposed to tell you all this when I had your blade to your throat? I’m not sure you’d have been open to that conversation.’ Her voice reeked of confidence but Azriel saw the facade waning in her darkening eyes.
Memories flitted through his mind—visions of her from the instant he laid his eyes on her to the present. Every misfortune they endured, every second they spent in love, every. . . 
He stalked her on his knees, his hands on either side of her. He hissed, ‘You slept with those males after that.’ A sound escaped his throat, a rumble deep from his chest. ‘My wife slept with other males to spite me.’ 
N stared at his lips and swallowed thickly. She hurried back, her hands slipping on the smooth marble under her. 'Azriel,' she whined wincing at the way her body welcomed her impending doom.
Azriel inhaled sharply. ’You like that? When I call you my wife?’ He chuckled darkly. His lips whispered against hers, ‘Of all the things you kept from me, this is the worst. You’re not getting out of this easy this time.’
N pleaded with her eyes. Her breaths shuddered. ‘They are watching.’
‘Then they’ll know my actions are justified.’
Azriel dove for his kill but before his hands grasped her, she faded away. Her airy laughter echoed in his ears. She stood in the middle of the room—her hands gently clutching her skirt to free her feet, her braid coming undone over her shoulder, teeth sinking into her plump lip—a vision of devilry and seduction.
His eyes flashed up to hers with a glint. His shadows who wanted vengeance of their own circled his shoulders and arms with a frenzy. N was in trouble and she knew it. She turned to run only to be met with his hard chest emerging from a dark mist.
‘Did you really think you could get away?’ He caressed her cheek, ‘There’s no escape from me. You should know that by now.’
N slid her arms around his neck. ‘Back then, we barely knew each other. I didn’t want to scare you.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’ She sent every ounce of sincerity in her being through their bond, still he kept his end cloaked.
Azriel pulled his arms away. Dark amusement shone in his eyes. ‘As if a silly apology is going to save you.’
N smoothed her palms over his chest. ‘I know.’ Her lips brushed against his skin, littering his face with soft pecks. ‘I know,’ she kissed the corner of his lips, moving closer and closer to the centre as she breathed the words, ‘I’ll make it up to you. For every secret.’
Even as N pressed her body into his, Azriel stood unmoved with a cruel smirk on his lips and his hands by his side. Her fingers wandered over his sculpted torso before unbuttoning his shirt. The shadows on his shoulders swayed, watching, waiting. The regal female who made others quiver with fear grovelled for his forgiveness, and his wretched heart grew giddy with power and pride.
Azriel itched to grab her waist and bite her lips until she bled for him again. A true victory in this duel. He closed his eyes in a wasted effort to tame his thoughts. At the first touch of her cool fingers on his bare chest, he almost gave in. 
His eyes snapped open the moment N pulled her lips away. She dropped to her knees, her fingers dancing on his hips. Pressing a kiss below his navel, she inched her hands between his legs and fondled him with the heel of her palms. The warmth from her hands seeped through the cotton, which he was forced to wear upon their arrival, promising him the pleasure that awaited him.
In all the years with her, Azriel treated her lips as a relic–sacred and holy–a crown jewel in the trove that was her body. Something to be guarded, treasured, worshipped. He never had to take her mouth the way she offered to him to reach for the stars.
N smiled sweetly. The goddess who witnessed every vice and virtue under the sky knelt before him with love in her heart and devotion in her eyes.
Enchanted, Azriel watched her. His lips parted with a shaky breath. Their bond blazed with emotions he couldn’t name. At that moment, he knew there had never been nor ever will be a male more blessed than he was.
His scarred hand cradled her cheek tinged with a soft blush. She leaned in, closing her eyes, trapping his hand between her shoulder and face. She sighed. She kissed his wrist, his palm, his fingers. 
Azriel couldn’t decide which was in more pain—his heart or his cock. Both, mere toys in her hands. 
N grazed her lips against his clothed hardness and Azriel closed his eyes. His head fell back. A gasp escaped deep from his chest when her tongue soaked him through the fabric. He couldn't remember why he wanted to punish his sweet mate. He was close to breaking already and all she did was tease.
A sharp scrape of her teeth along his length had him bury his hand in her hair softer than the flowers that tumbled down her breast. He hissed in warning as his eyes held hers in a glare. 
‘I want you to look at me,’ she smiled. That damned smile that masked her every cruelty.
Too much time had passed since they felt each other’s skin. Months, almost a year of not seeing each other, not holding each other. And there she was ready to worship him with her entire being if only for a night until their time ran out. Every move of hers had his heart wring in pain, the desire through the bond overwhelming and consuming his soul.
His shadows swooped down and pulled her to him. Azriel crashed his lips onto hers before her feet rested on the ground and stole every little breath from her chest. His shadows brought them to her bed, delicate and soft fit for a queen, like her. 
He pried the cord that held her dress together below her breasts. His lips ventured south leaving a trail of red on her neck and chest while N rewarded him with her moans. Shadows, ever obedient, parted her dress to make way for their master’s hand to relish the smoothness of her skin. He caressed every inch of her body with his marred hands except where she ached for him the most. She pleaded and moaned, guiding his hand between her legs. 
‘You shouldn’t have lied to me,’ he growled, letting his canines scratch her jaw. ‘You know how I feel about secrets, don’t you?’ A sob left her lips as the back of his fingers teased her entrance with the barest of touch. ‘Is this what you call making up? Crying and moaning until your husband fucks you?’
N froze. Her eyes stared into his with unspoken emotion that radiated clearly in their bond instead. ‘Azriel, please.’ His hand came down hard between her legs. She arched her back beautifully for him as a silent gasp escaped her lips.
Azriel memorised every pull of her muscles. ‘You should’ve known better.’ He slipped his fingers in and out, barely past her entrance, coaxing moans out of her. Her wetness had his mouth water. He undid his pants enough to ease himself out and thrusted into her in a single move.
They were perfect for each other—masochists at heart, denying themselves release until the day for their reunion drew closer and closer. N reached a hand out and clawed at his chest. Her eyes widened and soon glazed with pleasure. Her lungs ached for air. Her body begged to escape the feral male whose only intention was to devour her body and soul. Yet, she wrapped her legs around him.
Azriel waited panting, his heart losing its rhythm, shirt clinging to his back. N tugged him closer with her heels on his ass. He growled, baring his teeth. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her to his chest. Her eyes fixated where his hips snapped against hers, where they were finally a whole. Each of her whimpers nudged him to quicken his pace.
He felt his release closing in. ‘Is this what you want?’ She looked up, mewling for him, her eyes burning with tears. Too soon. He pulled out of her weeping cunt and dove in with his tongue.
N cried out his name, sweeter than any melody she had ever sung for him. Her body slumped on the bed. She sought for leverage, her hands fisting the pillows. As she felt her fingers grasping at reality, shadows weaved around her wrist and pinned them above her head.
Azriel watched his mate’s body collapse and crash at his ministrations. He dug his fingers into her thighs tearing them open. Her bright eyes pinched shut before she met his crazed ones. With her chest glistening with sweat, her neck reddening, and her teeth sinking into her wet, swollen lips, she came.
Watching her body shiver with every lick of the evening breeze, Azriel rid himself of his clothes. He leaned down to kiss her lips, but she stared dazed. He laughed and nipped at the insides of her bicep, clearing the fog in her mind. Her arms flushed red as blood rushed back. Her fingers twitched and his shadows trickled along them. She came alive with whines when he slipped his fingers inside her.
Her desire came in waves through the bond. A groan rose from his chest, a guttural rumble. Even after his transgressions, she only wanted more, more of him. N clenched around his fingers at the sound. Azriel chuckled darkly into her ear. N curled into herself and clenched again. A renewed glint came to his eyes as he stared into hers. 
‘She likes my voice, does she now? I always wondered. . .’ He lowered himself between her legs again, his second haven, the first being her embrace. A series of soft ‘please’ escaped her but the lust in her eyes told a different story, the bond sang a different tune. And he chose to heed its calling.
He wrapped a hand around her thigh and pushed the other aside with his shoulder. He didn’t want to miss this one. It was no new knowledge. He always had his suspicions, years of practice in observing the unobserved. But to finally see it with his own eyes, he was desperate to witness it. He wanted it to be true, he prayed for it to be true. 
The room was filled with nothing but N’s silent pleas. Her wetness glistened in the last lights of dusk promising him an elixir crafted just for him. A fresh wave of arousal rolled over her body. Azriel hummed, breathing in the scent.
‘So pretty,’ he exhaled. His eyes took in every flutter that invited him back. ‘You like being praised, don’t you?’ N moaned fighting against the shadows that held her hostage. Azriel pulled her close by her hip and inhaled—loud and deep—his nose almost touching her. 
‘Always wet for me, eager for me.’ His voice softened, his taunts dying as if his anger was meant for N and not her cunt, ‘I missed you so much. I can tell you missed me too,’ he pressed his lips to her thigh, his eyes unwavering, ‘by the way you wrapped around me, by the way you swallowed me.’ His cock throbbed at his own words. 
He rasped, ‘Look at you, teasing me. Do you want a kiss?’ He flattened a hand on her abdomen, his fingers stroking deliberate patterns. ‘My tongue, my fingers? Hmm?’ Her hip jerked up for more and he pressed a kiss to the arch above her clit.
'Azriel, please. I want more.'
‘So wanton, so needy.’ A wisp of shadow licked her entrance once and N closed her eyes. Her hips moved in tandem as if she could materialise what she needed out of thin air. ‘So beautiful.’ Azriel grazed a thumb along the junction where her leg met her hip. N fell back with a groan.
‘You want me, don’t you? You never lie to me,’ another kiss to her thigh, ‘You can’t lie. Unlike N,’ his eyes finally caught her desperate ones. For a moment, he almost felt tyrannical to let the wicked smile pull at his lips. N threw her head back and circled her hips again.
‘That’s it, pretty. Show me how you’d fuck me. Show me how beautiful you are.’ His tongue trailed a line alongside his thumb, ‘Come for me.’
Her legs went taut around his shoulders. Her toes dug into his back next to where his wing emerged from. When her stomach sank in, Azriel shoved two fingers inside and held it there as she unravelled with a choked moan. 
Pure, perverse pride filled his chest as his mate bucked and thrashed at the impact. Azriel was sick—sick at heart, sick in his desires. He never denied it. But it hardly felt a sickness with N trembling with his fingers inside.
Having lived through the horrors he did and committed unspeakable sins over his lifetime, Azriel knew there was no absolution for him. Nor that he cared. He already had his heaven, right there, in front of him, basking in the afterglow of pure pleasure.
He nuzzled his nose into her thigh to steal a little more warmth from her exhausted body. He brushed his cheek against her, closing his eyes, savouring the moment before his primal need destroyed the only person he loved the most. He hummed satisfied, pressing the lightest of kisses to her skin, his pathetic attempt to atone for the wicked he unleashed upon her. His heart should cower in shame and guilt, yet it swelled with love and hunger.
His name, whispered once, tore his attention from his perverted thoughts. He never cared for what he was called. But in her sweet voice, a sacred chant uttered in the confines of their chamber, he liked no word more than his own name. His shadows answered her call, smoothed over her sweat-covered body apologising for their master’s sadism, burning her skin with their delicate coolness. Some mercy, for they were no better than him.
Azriel brushed a thumb along her cheek gathering her tears away, a tender kiss placed in their stead. He smiled like a gentle lover. He parted her lips with his fingers soaked in her essence and slid them past her teeth.
With hooded eyes, N looked up at the male who sought the remnants of her soul clinging to her body and sucked on the tips. Her tongue rivalled the wetness between her legs. She was a true seductress.
Azriel lapped at his fingers and the lips sheathing them alike, tasting her whole at once, embracing the insanity he fought to stave off for so long. Even when he slipped his fingers out of her mouth, even when he pressed his body onto hers, even when he lined himself to her welcoming heat, he didn’t break the kiss like her lips were his only tether to reality.
N stilled beneath him. Another tear slipped from the corner of her beautiful eyes. Azriel was cruel, but he was capable of loving his mate right. He wrapped a hand around her shoulder and smoothed a palm over her hip. He inched in slowly into her pulsing cunt, ‘Give me one more, love. Just one. For me?’ 
His mate, ever merciful, nodded. The adoration that flowed through the golden string between their hearts reflected in her eyes. ‘Please,’ she said breathlessly, ‘please, Azriel. I want to touch you.’
The one whose dangerous hands slit throats of the most feral of males and females with grace asked to touch him so sweetly. How could he deny anything to her?
His shadows didn’t wait for his instructions. They released her arms and slid over to the skin their master left unattended, staking their claim on her body. Azriel reined them back only to lose control again. She made him jealous of his own shadows, ones meant to serve him, ones who forgot their place around her.
A long sigh pulled his focus back to her. Too exhausted to hold him like she always did, N ran her hands along his sides. ‘I missed you.’
‘I missed you too.’ Azriel lifted her thigh higher and wrapped it around his waist ripping a whine from her throat. He did miss her. He missed everything about her. Her raw devotion to him, her pure heart, her unconditional love.
As he moved deeper and deeper still, he felt it. The echo of a song he knew too well, one of love and longing that kept them connected through the times of separation. Beyond the familiarity of its thrum, he recognised something else.
Like catching a flicker of light after being lost in the dark for long. Like the first time he gained control of the darkness he was born with. Like the first time he tasted his freedom. In her arms, everything made sense. His breaths strained.
Tears flowed freely from her eyes. ‘I missed you,’ There was a tremor in her voice. Azriel soothed her with his own declarations but she shook her head, ‘Don’t make me leave you again. Please, I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t, not without you.’
Azriel always believed he loved her more than she could love him in her lifetime. His petty display of jealousy and temper, a proof of his love. What an arrogant fool. His heart ached for failing to truly see his beloved’s feelings for him, how deep it ran in her veins, how it destroyed her while it breathed life into him.
He pulled her close, enveloping her in his comfort, and his wings draped around them.
‘Promise me, Azriel.’ She closed her eyes, ‘Please.’
‘I’m here now,’ he caressed her cheek. He left kisses on her forehead, eyes, cheeks, and finally on her lips. ‘I’m here. I’m with you, love. I’m here.’ And at those words, N let go one last time leading him to his release.
Azriel left his shaking mate in the bed with a kiss when he came back to his senses to draw a bath. He stood by the door of her bathroom and watched his shadows tickle the skin below her ear. A light chuckle escaped her lips as more chased her hand. It was a sight he was used to and missed dearly.
N smiled at him as he carried her in his arms. Her body shivered at the first touch as Azriel lowered her into the tub. She tugged at his wrist, and he joined in. She leaned her back into his chest and closed her eyes. The water washed her exhaustion away while his hands massaged her tender flesh. Her eyes struggled to stay open and she sank deeper against him. As he dried her tenderly after, she watched him with an easy smile.
Azriel carried her out to the bedroom and paused. Fresh sheets lined her bed. Sweet fragrance of jasmine lingered in the air. Lit candles stood on windows and her desk. Moonlight streamed past the drawn curtains. His shadows failed to notice, too lost in her as he was.
‘I told you they were watching,’ N said, her voice quiet and tired. 
He eased her into the bed and pulled a blanket over her legs. He traced the marks of red on her stomach and between her breasts, marring her pristine skin—still a masterpiece—complete, perfect. ‘Do you think they’ll let me near you again after seeing what I’ve done?’ He couldn’t stop the smile that cruelly tugged at his mouth.
N groaned, throwing a hand over her eyes. ‘I’m pretty sure Mother Aarzu is already dissecting how you wrecked me for her next seduction lesson.’ 
‘Well then,’ Azriel laid beside her and pulled her to his chest, ‘I’m willing to contribute more to these lessons. They sound very necessary.’
She glared from behind her hand. ‘Mock all you want but your brothers are worse. I bet Rhysand was listening to your thoughts the whole time. And they are already planning on ways to taunt you.’
Azriel lifted a brow. He opened his mouth to defend his ability to guard his thoughts when his brother’s laughter echoed in his mind. ‘Your shields are pathetic when she’s around. They went down the moment her lips were on you.’ N flinched in his arms and he knew his brother invaded her mind as well for his next words, ‘Thanks for the show. Quite an. . .inspiration.’
N scoffed, ‘I don’t know why we do it behind closed doors.’ Her words had his mind conjure ideas already. A frown appeared between her brows. She looked at him sharply when she felt a hardness pressing into her hip, ‘We’re not doing that.’
Azriel laughed aloud. Something he hadn’t done in a while after he sent his mate away. ‘Anything my wife wants,’ he teased. He cradled her face against his chest and kissed her eye. ‘Anything you want.’
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months
Note
So, I've had this strange and, maybe, cool idea that I would like to share with you!
Reader, who made their way up to the Galar Championsip, they are known for their strange connection to Pokémon, and for never talking, or showing their face. People know very little about them, and rarely see them, but on one day, the finally day, the truth unfolds!
When they step onto the field, surrounded by cameras, they throw off their cloak only to show that all this time, the Pokémon Trainer was not in fact human, but also a Pokémon! Bisharp, to be exact.
The shock, the news! The unexpected twist!
Hope that you'll like it! Take your time, I can wait, writing is a very tiring progress✨
"Leon! How do you feel about the mystery challenger you endorsed being moments away from battling you?"
"Have they ever spoken a word to you, Leon?"
"Who do you think they could be? Someone outside this region? An old rival looking for revenge?"
"I haven't got a clue who they are just yet, but if I know one thing...it's that this battle is going to be amazing! I can just feel it!" The Galarian Champion grinned with pride, standing amidst a swarm of reporters who wanted to question him before he prepared for the final match.
At last, the day arrived.
One that many anticipated.
Because today Leon will be facing a particularly unique challenger:
You, somebody who mysteriously showed up in Galar one day and kept their identity hidden beneath a covert cloak. Nobody knew what you actually looked like, and it was even harder to know what you sounded like....as you've never spoken to anyone.
Not even to Leon, although you made your wishes to enter the gym challenge very clear when you approached him, handing him a card with a simple request:
Endorse Me --B
"B" was the only name he knew you by, and nothing else. But he understood that you probably didn't like talking too much, similar to Allister. So he obliged, permitting you to wear the cloak as you were rather insistent on doing so.
Who would have though you'd conquer the Championship by storm and were now minutes away from battling him for the title?
You've truly wowed the crowd as you defeated the gym leaders with flying colors. And all you ever did was point at them and let your Pokémon finish the job--all without uttering a single command.
You even took down Raihan's Gigantamaxed-Duraludon in just a single turn!
It's like you shared a psychic connection with them, although you've ducked out of the way of reporters and fanatics who were just obsessed with you, refusing to be swarmed.
Still, your aura of mystery, strong bonds, and intelligent Pokémon quickly became the talk of the town. And it made Leon all the more thrilled to battle you, hoping he'll get to learn more about you that way.
So when the news crew started getting word that you arrived in Wyndon for the final match, he took that as his cue to get ready.
He was so excited, he almost got lost on his way to the locker room.
.........
Stepping out onto the field, you were immediately greeted by cameras hovering on all sides, mounted by Aegislash.
Every angle was determined to capture you in your star moment...as you were about to battle Galar's current champion.
But even with all of this attention on you, you didn't wave or acknowledge the cameras one bit. Your focus was only on the purple-haired man who was waiting for you in the center.
For a second or two, Leon was thrown-off by the uproarious cheers coming from the crowd after you appeared. Usually he was being rooted for the most, although it's clear that people were psyched to see you battle him.
You've been one of Galar's greatest mysteries since your arrival, and still nobody knew who you were or how you became so strong.
Stopping in front of him, you looked into his eyes, only giving a small nod of acknowledgement.
"Well this is it, B. The moment everyone's been waiting for." He grinned. "Are you ready for.......oh, guess they are.." His face fell flat as you simply turned and headed back to your position on the field.
Now he was just dying to find out who you truly are.
Who really stood under that cloak?
For now, though, all that mattered was this battle that would determine if he'd successfully defend his title as Champion...or if you were somehow going to come out on top.
Standing back at his position, Leon patted both side of his face, taking a few deep breaths. Then he tossed his heavy cape to the wind, which was hastily collected by a staff member before he struck his signature pose for all to see.
The crowd's cheers have grown tenfold, chanting his name as they mimicked the iconic gesture.
You grunted in interest, impressed how that simple action got everyone so riled up and excited. And it made you wonder...
Looking to your cloak, you gripped it with metal fingers that were barely visible to the cameras. For a moment or two you stood there debating, wondering if....
No.
You're done dodging people and hiding from the public eye.
You've kept up this mystery long enough.
It's about time everyone here knew who you really were.
"What's this? Is our mystery challenger about to reveal their identity??" An announcer cried out. "It's the moment we've all been waiting for, ladies and gentlemen!!!"
With another grunt, you finally threw off your cloak, letting it fall to the ground beside you, eyes closed as you anticipated everybody's judgement.
Most of the crowd descended into silence; even Leon, Hop, and the other gym leaders couldn't believe what they were seeing right before their very eyes.
After all this time, they thought they were battling a strong human Pokémon Trainer.
But no.
Instead it was a Pokémon itself.
"What a twist! I can't believe it! It seems that our mysterious competitor is none other than the Pokémon Bisharp! Somehow it has risen through the ranks of the championship without the assistance of a trainer! It's incredible! This has NEVER happened in the history of Pokémon battling!!"
Soon the crowd went WILD.
Many wondered how it was even legal for a Pokémon to enter a human competition; a few others--especially those watching from home--were convinced you were just a person in a Bisharp costume.
But the cameras surrounding you didn't lie.
You were a real Bisharp, and you were determined to become the first ever Pokémon to win a championship.
"Shar.." With a smirk, you raised your hands up to the cameras, giving them a small wave. You were relieved that your secret was finally out; it gave you a massive confidence boost after seeing how all the humans reacted.
As you then sharpened your bladed arms and readied your first pokeball, you gazed at Leon from across the way. His jaw was dropped in shock, unable to believe who he was battling.
It was quite amusing to you.
Of course, many knew Bisharps were strategic commanders of Pawniards....but nobody would have guessed they'd be intelligent enough to lead a competitive team of different Pokémon outside their lineage.
Well, you're the shining example that it was possible.
After sending out your Pokémon, you huffed, wondering when your opponent was going to snap out of it and start taking this battle seriously.
But he quickly realized you were waiting, and seemed flustered.
"Sorry. I just...wow....I can't believe you were.....ah, what does it matter?" Shaking his head, he grinned as he finally sent out his first Pokémon, ready to defend his title. "We're gonna have a champion time regardless. So give me everything you got, Bisharp!"
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writing0305 · 5 months
Text
Trouble. Pt.1
Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader.
Summary: Six years ago you got pregnant with Billy's kid and you ran away without telling him. Now he was back, wanting you to return to the boys so you could get your revenge on Translucent, but you gave him a big fuck you and turned your back on him. But one visit from Homelander and a threat later, you went crawling back to Butcher, unsure how to explain how much you've fucked up.
Warnings: Heavy swearing. Child harming threats. Billy butcher. Homelander. A child???
Pt. 1 - Pt.2
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You were already working with Grace Mallory when Butcher and the boys began working for her. Butcher has just lost his wife and was on a war path to kill every supe he could get his hands on. You were on the same warpath at that time, since Translucent killed your brother and then spun the story that your sixteen-year-old brother had attempted to attack him.
You formed a trauma bond with Butcher which made you grow closer with him. Two years in, and one drunken night spent together, you got pregnant. You told Grace but no one else. You didn’t want Butcher to know for so many reasons. He still wasn’t over his wife, he never wanted children to begin with, and his lifestyle wasn’t one to bring a baby into.
So one night, Grace helped you pack your bags and leave. Butcher tried to look for you but Grace had managed to convince him you wanted out of this life and finding you would put you in danger all over again. Because that was what the life meant. Danger.
And now it was six years later and you had a daughter named Willow. You still lived in New York and by God’s grace, you never ran into anyone from your past. But after the death of Grace’s grandchildren, the boys split up and all went their separate ways.
Your daughter was the constant reminder of Billy. Not because she was his daughter, but because she was the exact copy of her father. She had tanned skin, dark thick black hair with dark hazel eyes, and even his big dimples that always seemed to be present, even when she wasn’t smiling. If anyone who knew Billy, saw the little girl, there would be no doubt in their minds that she was his kid.
To keep a low profile, you lived on the shitty side of the city, in a small two-bedroom apartment, and worked a shity job at a diner. But your daughter got everything her little heart yearned for. She just had to ask and you’d give it to her. By no means she was a spoiled little girl, but she had a good life.
You woke up with a soft sigh on the day your life would change. Oblivious to how the day would go on, you got yourself ready for work, made breakfast, and fed your daughter before getting her ready for school.
Just as you pulled on your jacket, you wandered over to your daughter’s bedroom, poking your head inside. “Baby, come on, you ready for school?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at the little girl who franticly darted around her room, searching for something.
Willow turned to you with pouty lips and eyes filled with tears. “I can’t find my bunny.” She said softly as she wrapped her arms around herself.
You offered your daughter a small smile as you entered her room. “It’s probably in this messy bed.” You said as you walked towards her bed, lightly running a hand over her long dark hair when you passed her. You looked between the sheets of her unmade bed and found the pink plush bunny. “Oh look, here she is.”
Willow gasped as her eyes widened, a smile tugging at her lips. “You found her.” She squealed in excitement as you handed her the bunny and she rushed to her Barbie backpack, yanking the zip open.
“You can’t take her to school, Willow.” You stopped her as you crouched down next to her, placing a hand over hers before she could shove the bunny into her bag.
Her lips pouted again and her eyebrows furrowed as she stared up at you. “Why not?” She asked softly as she hugged the bunny to her chest, afraid you were going to take it away from her.
“What if you lose her?”  You asked her as you raised your eyebrows and tilted your head to the side.
Willow thought bout it for a second as her hazel eyes darted around. “I won’t lose her.” She promised as she shook her head, giving you a toothy smile, her dimples popping out.
“She’s safer here at home, baby.” You told her gently as you reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing a thumb over her tanned skin.
She sighed softly as she slowly nodded her head. “Alright.” She whispered as she handed you her bunny and you placed it on her bed, resting it against her pillow.
You took Willow’s bag in one hand and held her hand with your other hand. You walked her to school, listening to her babble about everything that came to her mind. You loved listening to your daughter talk about the smallest things. She could see a worm on the ground and talk about it with no stop.
As you came to a stop in front of her school, you crouched down in front of her, taking her face in between your hands. “Have a nice day at school baby.” You said softly as you placed multiple kisses across her face, making her giggle as she pulled away.
She wrapped her arms around your shoulder, nuzzling her head against your chest. “Love you, mommy.” She spoke softly.
You pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Love you, baby.” You replied before pulling away from her, standing up to your feet as she ran towards her teacher with a big smile, greeting the much older woman with a hug. The teacher sent you a wave before letting Willow into the classroom and you waved back before walking toward your job.
Four hours into your shift, you were working behind the counter, taking the to-go orders. Your manager, Jenna approached you with a tray, with two steaming hot cups of coffee on it. “Hey, can you take these two coffees to table two?” She asked as she placed the tray on the counter.
“Yeah, sure.” You nodded your head, handing her your small notebook and taking the tray from the counter. You waved through the tables and the few people standing around. Before you could greet the people at table two, you froze. Your eyes met familiar hazel eyes and your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.
Butcher gave you his one-sided smirk. “Hello, luv.” He greeted you and the skinny and lean man sitting opposite him, shifted in his seat to look at you. The stranger’s eyebrows furrowed, clearly seeing how upset you were at Butcher’s presence.
 “No…” You whispered. Your mind ran through a million reasons of why Billy could be back. Him showing up at your shity job that barely anyone in New York has fucking heard of, was no coincidence. Your mind felt fuzzy and your limbs heavy. The tray slipped from your sweaty hands and everyone in the diner jumped when the mugs shattered to the floor and the tray clanged.
You didn’t see Bily’s reaction to your clear disapproval of his sudden presence as you spun around and rushed off into the backroom.  Your breathing was heavy and tears burned in your eyes. You leaned against a table, placing a hand over your beating heart.
How did he find you? How did he know where you worked? If he knew that, what else did he know? How much did he know? Why was he here now, after all these years? So many questions and not a single fucking answer.
“Y/n?”Jenna called out as she rushed into the room with a concerned look on her face. “Hey, are you alright?” She asked softly, eyebrows furrowing as she reached out, placing her hands on your arms. “Y/n?”
“I…” You whispered, your breathing speeding up even more as a tear slipped down your cheek.“I have to…” You whimpered, closing your eyes as you struggled to find the words. You didn’t know what to do.
“Y/n?” Jenna spoke again, squeezing your arm softly. “Hey, are you okay?” She asked softly and you frantically shook your head as you let out a whimpering breath.“Who are those guys?” She asked, having seen Butcher and his friend at the table you were sent to.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. Your eyes opened and you wiped the tear from your cheek as you looked at her. “The one with the beard…he’s Willow’s father.” You whispered.
Jenna’s eyes widened as her lips parted. Your work friend didn’t know about your previous life, but she knew Willow’s father didn’t know of her. “Oh…” She whispered as her hand dropped from your arm.
You were silent for a second before your mind went to your daughter. You let out a shaky breath. “I need to go get Willow.” You insisted as you ran a shaky hand through your hair. “Please…can I take the rest of the day off?” You pleaded softly.
“Yeah.”Jenna replied with a nod of her head. “Yeah, of course.”
You gave her a soft thank you before gathering your things. Before leaving the diner, you called Willow’s school and informed them there was a family emergency and you were going to pick her up early. The second you stepped out of the back room, your gaze darted towards table two, eyebrows furrowing when you saw it empty.
You rushed out of the diner and turned in the direction of your daughter’s school which was only a few streets down.  “Oi, Y/n,” Butcher called out from behind you and you halted in your steps.
You slowly turned around to face him and his new friend. They were leaning up against a dodgy-looking grey van, their gazes settled on you. You stood completely still for a second before storming towards Butcher so fast, that you saw his friend flinch back. “What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped at Butcher. “Why the fuck are you back?”
“Comin’ on a bit strong there luv,” Butcher muttered in a low voice as he stared at you, unfazed by your attitude, just like he was all those years ago. “You’re gonna make me mate Hughie here think you ain’t like me.” he mused as he nodded his head at the tall and lean man next to him.
“Was me running away in the middle of the fucking night, not enough to make you realize I don’t want any part of this bullshit anymore?” You questioned Butcher with a huff as your eyebrows deeply furrowed.
He sighed as he pursed his lips, his head tilting to the side. “Look, I know things back then were a bit fucked-” He started but you cut him off with a scoff as you rolled your eyes.
“A bit?” You questioned his understatement as you quirked your eyebrow before shaking your head, spinning around and starting to walk away again.
“We have Translucent, Y/n,” Billy called out in a low voice after making sure no one was around to hear him.
Your body went rigid for a second, your chest tightening as your blood ran cold. You slowly turned around to face Butcher, eyebrows furrowing again. “You…what?” You asked softly, a slight shake to your voice. You thought you misheard him for a second. But the smirk tugging at his lips told you that you did in fact hear him right.
“We managed to catch the fucker.”He informed you as he nodded his head, crossing his arms over his chest, making his shirt strain around the muscle. “Frenchy’s working on a way to kill him.” He added.
You silently stared at him for a second before you shook your head. “I don’t want any part of this.” You insisted as you waved a denying hand through the air.
“That fuck killed your brother.” Butcher snapped as his eyebrows furrowed and he took a step closer to you. To everyone else he looked intimidating, even threatening. But not to you. “You ain’t want revenge for him?” he questioned.
You took a shaky breath. For so long, it was all you wanted, revenge for your little brother. But now, you have more important things to worry about. Like your daughter’s safety. “I can’t.” You whispered with a shake of your head as your eyes filled with tears again.
“Why the fuck not?” he questioned as a frown tugged at his lips, his eyebrows furrowing even deeper as he stared down at you.
“Because I have too much to fucking lose!” You snapped, your voice loud enough to startle Hughie again.
Butcher scoffed in amusement as he rolled his eyes. “Like what?” he questioned as he raised his eyebrows. “Your shitty diner job?” he asked as he nodded towards the small building of the diner.
“Just go, and don’t drag me into this shit.” You muttered in a low voice as you shook your head. “Just fuck off.” You snapped before turning around and storming off. On your hasty walk to the school, you send continuous glances over your shoulder to make sure the dodgy grey van wasn’t following you.
When you arrived at the school, you signed your daughter out and she was brought to you in the front office. “Mommy.” She called out with her usual toothy smile, her once adoring dimples now taunting you, like every other feature she got from her father.
“Hi, baby.” You greeted with a small smile as you crouched down and wrapped your arms around her, hugging her tightly for a second before you stood back up and took her hand. You walked out of the school building with her but barely got a few steps in when you once again were frozen in your steps.
Willow squealed excitedly as Homelander dropped down in front of you “Look!” She called out as she pointed at the supe, oblivious to the fear and disgust from her mother at the sight of the man.
“Homelander…” You whispered as he approached you with a blank look on his face, his hands hidden behind his back. Your heart clenched with fear and a knot formed in the pit of your stomach.
“Y/n.” He greeted you curtly before crouching down in front of your daughter, and in response, your hand tightened around hers. “Little Willow.” he greeted as an eerie smile tugged at his lips and his hands slipped from behind his back. Your blood ran cold at the sight of the pink plush bunny in his hand. “I brought you something.” He said as he held the bunny out to your daughter.
“My bunny.” She squealed excitedly as she took the bunny from his hands, hugging it to her chest.
Homelander got back up to his feet. His smile dropped as his gaze met yours. His eyes were cold and dead and his face blank. “Translucent is missing.” He informed you.
Just like Mallory trained you, you kept your heartbeat steady and your face blank. “He is?” You asked softly as you raised your eyebrows.  “He’s invincible, how can you tell?” You asked with a shrug of your shoulders.
He softly hummed as he nodded his head, reaching out to brush his finger across your cheek. “You know anything about it, Y/n?” he asked as he raised his eyebrows.
Your eyebrows furrowed as your head tilted to the side, tilting away from his touch. “Why would I?” You asked softly.
Homelander’s top lip twitched into a snarl and he grabbed your jaw, leaning in very close to your face. “Don’t fucking  bullshit me.” he gritted out in a low voice. “He killed your brother.” He reminded you as his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek. That one incident was enough for him to deem you guilty of whatever happened with Translucent.
You kept yourself composed, so as to not upset your daughter who watched your interaction with the supe. “I don’t have anything to do with this.” You insisted softly, and that was the truth, but still, the supe remained skeptical.
“I hope that is true.” He muttered softly as he leaned into your ear. “We don’t want anything to happen to little Willow, now do we?” He asked softly and your lips parted as your heart plummeted to your stomach.
He let go of your jaw before flying off and Willow stared up at him in awe while you stared ahead of yourself, your eyes filled with tears. It took you a second to snap yourself out of your fear and you picked up your daughter, rushing her back home. You locked your door and closed all your curtains, tossing your daughter's bunny in the back of your closet without her noticing as you placed her tablet in her hands.
While Willow watched videos on her tablet, you went onto your Facebook and searched for Butcher’s friend, Hughie. It was a while before you found the account with the familiar face and by luck, his job was listed on his Facebook information.
You had hoped to find Butcher through Hughie. You knew Butcher was a hard man to find when he didn’t want to be found. And a man holding supe hostage, would not want to be found. You felt a little selfish wanting to seek him out now, after telling him to fuck off not long ago. But he was indirectly responsible for the whole shit storm you were about to find yourself in. And you would truly go to any length to protect your daughter. Even going to Butcher and telling him about her.
Taking a big leap, you got in your shitty old beaten-up Volvo and went to the small technology shop he claimed to work at. Your hold on your daughter’s hand was tight, still shaken by Homelander’s threat. One you knew was not empty, as he showed that by giving your daughter the bunny you had made her leave at home.
A red-haired man sat behind the counter of the shop and you approached him with a tight-lipped smile. “Hi.” You greeted him softly.
He looked up from the comic he read and a big smile tugged at his lips when he met your gaze. “Hello, what can I help you with?” He asked as he raised his eyebrows.
You took a deep breath and your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips. “Umm…I’m here because of an employee of yours, Hugh Campbell.” You explained to him as your lips pulled into a tight smile again.
The man’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hughie quite a few days ago,” he informed you with a shake of his head as he set his comic aside.
“Oh.” You muttered softly, feeling your hope at finding Butcher, deflating. Your eyes darted around for a second as you thought of something else and when you did, your gaze returned to the man. “Is there any way I can get his phone number?” You pleaded softly.
“I can’t give that out.” The man informed you as he pursed his lips and shook his head.
You sighed softly as you prepared yourself to stoop lower than you had ever before. You turned to your daughter, offering her a small smile. “Baby, can you go over there for a second?” You asked as you pointed at a shelf just a few feet away. Far enough for her not to hear you but close enough for you to see her. When she nodded and walked away, you turned to the man and leaned in a little closer over the counter. “Look…that’s his daughter.”You muttered softly as you nodded your head, Willow. “I really need to talk to him…to tell him.”
You could not for the life in you, believe how low you were stooping in your time of desperation. Claiming another man the father of your child when you couldn’t even tell her real father about her. How you were going to explain any of this to Butcher if you did manage to find him, you still didn’t know.
The man’s eyes squinted as he glanced at the little girl who looked nothing like Hughie. And then his gaze returned to you. “He doesn’t have kids,” he replied as he shook his head.
“He doesn’t know.” You muttered softly as you shook your head before giving him a look of desperation. “I’ve been looking for him for years.” You muttered as you sighed softly, wiping at the non-existent tears in your eyes as you lowered your gaze. “Please…”
The man stared at you silently for a second before sighing softly. He didn’t get paid enough to care and he didn’t know Hughie that good to care either. “Fine,” he muttered as he typed at his computer for a second before writing down a number on a piece of paper, handing it over to you.
“Thank you.” You said, offering him a small smile as you took the paper from him. You turned to your daughter, holding out your hand. “Baby, let’s go.” You called out and she ran over to you, taking your hand.
You were extremely aware of your surroundings as you made your way to the nearest gas station you could find, taking your daughter into the bathroom before pulling out your phone. You couldn’t risk going home to have this conversation, not with the knowledge that Homelander had been in your home and was already suspicious of you.
You dialed the number with trembling fingers and Hughie answered on the second ring.  “Hello?” He hesitantly called out in confusion, not recognizing the number.
“Hi, is this Hughie?” You questioned softly as you ran a shaky hand through your hair, your gaze on your daughter as she walked the lines of the tiled bathroom floor to entertain herself.
There was silence on the other end of the line and you feared he was going to end the call, but then he hesitantly spoke up again. “Whose this?” he questioned.
“Y/n.” You replied softly before taking a deep breath. “Is Butcher there?” You asked as you closed your eyes for  a brief second.
There was shuffling and soft mutters on the other end of the line before a gruff voice called out to you. “Hello?” Butcher spoke and you could hear the confusion in his voice. Of course he was confused, not too long ago you yelled at him and told him to fuck off.
“Billy.” You breathed out softly as tears filled your eyes. “I think I’m in trouble.” You whispered as you sniffed.
Butcher couldn’t hide his anger or bitterness. “Tought ya told me to fuck off?” he questioned in a low voice.
You sighed deeply as you ran a hand through your hair again, eyes briefly darting towards your daughter who was in her own little world. “Billy…look, I’m in shit because of you.”  You told him, you voice giving away how scared and frustrated you were.
There was silence for a second before he grunted. “I’ll send ya our location,” he said before ending the call and a few seconds later, a pin location was sent from the unsaved number.  You closed your eyes, placing your hand over them as your tears began to slip and you bit back hard on the sob that wanted to slip from your lips. You were backed up so far into the corner you had made for yourself. You knew you were fucked, one way or another.
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bamf-jaskier · 2 years
Text
Cavill is not a martyr
I have been seeing so many posts and comments along the lines of “Henry Cavill left the Witcher because they were inaccurate to the books and he had enough of all the changes”
And this thought process, especially if you mention the recent DeMayo writer’s interview, is just a flawed thought process.
Just a quick blurb on DeMayo, as I said here his comments are probably a cry for attention from a fanbase he knows how to rile up and I would take what he says with a grain of truth salt. And Cavill has already filmed season 3 and I can assure you that a random writer he probably has already met making these comments didn’t send Cavill over the edge and have him march into the office an rage quit. Recasting and deciding on a new actor and getting out of contract is a lengthy process that has likely been going on for months. If anything it’s more likely DeMayo knew about Cavill leaving and then made his comments than the other way around.
So Henry Cavill announced he was leaving the Witcher just a few days after announcing he was returning to Superman.
In fact, he was quoted as saying this about his recent cameo as Superman in the new Black Adam movie:
"It was a very powerful moment for me. I wasn't sure how I would feel… whether it would be something very emotionally connective because I put the Man of Steel suit back on," Cavill said. "I chose that one in particular because of the nostalgia attached to the suit. It was important for me to be standing there and enjoying that moment. That is one of the top moments in my career. It feels great to have the opportunity to wear it again."
"The character means so much to me. It's been five years now. I never gave up hope," Cavill said of the half-decade he spent waiting for news about playing Superman again. "It's amazing to be here now talking about it again. There is such a bright future ahead for the character. I'm so excited to tell a story with an enormously joyful Superman."
And that 5 year mark is important. Because it is no coincidence that on September in 2018 it was reported that Cavill will no longer be playing Superman in the DCEU just days after it was announced he would be taking on the role of Geralt in The Witcher.
In fact, it was stated:
the Witcher commitment came after the Warners impasse, suggesting a change in the studio’s strategy.
Meaning he signed onto the Witcher because he stopped being Superman. So what we are seeing right now with Cavill announcing he is returning as Superman and then announcing he is leaving The Witcher is an exact reverse of the situation in 2018.
Cavill loves playing Superman and not only is it a project he is passionate about, but he also nets in a massive paycheck.
Even back in 2018 when Cavill left the role of Superman there was talk that he left because of contract disputes:
Cavill's original contract was for four movies, so a contract extension would naturally need to be arranged before Warner Bros. could move ahead with another standalone Superman movie. According to Revenge of the Fans, Cavill's team wanted to leverage a better deal out of the contract extension - including more movies, more money, and possibly even a producer role. From Warner Bros.' perspective, however, there isn't exactly a burning need to get another Superman movie made.
Then in August of 2022 reports began to come out from comi-con that Henry Cavill was looking to return to the role of Superman but wanted more money for the role.
And considering Cavill was paid a truly insane amount for 2013′s Man of Steel -- an estimated $14 million and a $20 million for 2017′s Justice League I have to wonder what wildly high amount he will be paid to return as Superman now in 2022 when he is a bigger star than ever before.
And his Witcher paycheck does not compare to that Superman money -- with him making 500k an episode in season 1 and $1 million an episode in season 2. Even if he was just making as much money as Justice League, and he is likely making much more to return, that is still well over double the amount of money to play Superman vs playing Geralt.
And at the end of the day, The Witcher is a show with very specific scheduling requirements and set locations. Blood Origin and Season 2 lost actors because of the scheduling conflicts. And that is not at all unusual for the industry.
And for set locations The Witcher is mostly filmed in Mafan Film Studio in Hungary as well as various locations around the country as well as Arborfield Film Studios in the UK and other locations there such as North Yorkshire & The Lake District. And with fewer COVID restrictions the production team is likely to want to go around Europe again for S4 and S5.
Meanwhile it’s hard to know where the new DCEU movies will be filmed but Man of Steel was filmed around Vancouver, British Columbia and Illinois in the US. Justice League was filmed around Scotland and London. Black Adam was filmed in Atlanta Georgia in the US. 
All this to say filming DCEU movies and The Witcher are two very time intensive processes that require film locations that could be on opposite sides of the world. And in addition Cavill is starring in the new Highlander Reboot and in the Enola Holmes movies. Being a TV actor takes a lot of time for not as much money and acclaim. Cavill is seemingly going back to just being a film actor instead of a tv actor which considering his busy schedule makes a lot of sense.
So it’s pretty clear why he would leave The Witcher to return to Superman and his other films roles:
1) Far higher paycheck to play Superman
2) He loves both the characters but Superman is very meaningful for his career and he has stated he has always wanted to return to the role
3) Scheduling conflicts and very different filming locations and the prestige of film vs tv
Trying to spread the narrative of “Cavill is a martyr in the battle against the inaccuracies of the tv show” is based on nothing but your own confirmation bias. And it honestly says a lot about the type of person you are that you jump to find a symbol to represent the victimization of your hatred of the show.
You can dislike the show but the tinhatting and conspiracy theories I have seen flying around are quite frankly embarrassing and this is a needed reality check.
At the end of the day Henry Cavill is a high-level movie star who makes choices based on his career and what he wants to do. Your parasocial relationship with the man is entirely in your own head and I recommend trying to get out. 
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Could you handle me? | Sebastian Sallow x fem!Reader | Chapter One
Word count: 1.1k
Summary: Sebastian is always flirting with you and up in your personal space. So you decide to finally let him taste his own medicine.
Warnings: aged up characters, pining, tension (will likely lead to smut in a following chapter), minors dni
~ chapter two ~
Welcome back to my blog!
This marks the end of my 4-year hiatus and I'm really excited. I think I learned a lot since then and hope I can entertain some people with a few HL fanfics.
Stay tuned for more ❤️️
~Mia
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Suddenly he moved closer...a lot closer. His arm resting against his cocked hip, his chest almost brushing your bicep. It sent shivers down your spine, but luckily he wouldn't be able to distinguish them from your other shivers caused by this cold evening.
Yet you couldn't help yourself from looking down to the messily tucked in shirt, up his vest buttons, over this deliciously exposed neck and to stop at his teasing smile and dark brown eyes. You raised an eyebrow at Sebastian, crossing your arms (more to lessen your involuntary shivers, whenever his chest touched you) and asked him, what exactly he thought of doing.
His damn perfect smile widened at this question, eyes growing darker.
"I'm flirting, isn't it obvious?"
You couldn't stop yourself from blushing a little, hoping he didn't see it before you turned your face away from him. This feeling...jumping around in your heart like a giddy child...you had to push it away, so inadvertently your crossed arms nudged him enough, so he had to change his position again. Finally there was some distance between you two again. 
Thank Merlin.
"Well, you should stop that. We don't want anyone to think of us otherwise, do we?"
You tried to cover your shaky voice with a playful tone, yet you weren’t sure if it was believable.
When you looked back up into his warm eyes, you wondered…was it a shimmer of sadness in his eyes just now? You couldn't tell for sure, as his smile came back again so quickly. 
Obviously he just wanted to get a rise out of you again. Always teasing, always flirting, always too god damn close. 
He was your friend, your best one to be exact, but oh, how you longed for more. This…flirting…it was the only thing you could allow yourself.
"I don't care what anyone thinks about us.” He answered in a hushed and dark voice. “I only care what you think."
He was standing there so confidently, while you could only notice your knees getting weaker with each second he was staring at you, waiting for a reaction.
Maybe you could allow yourself a little more.
Just a tiny bit more.
Maybe it would shut him up for good.
When you turned to face him completely and mirrored the darkness in his eyes, his ones widened. You didn't notice how his knees also got a little weaker and how his hands started to shake with anticipation, when you stepped closer.
"Oh, so you wouldn't care..." 
You stepped closer. 
"...if anyone saw us..." 
Another step. 
"...being so close and..." 
Another. 
"...personal?"
Now you were close enough for Sebastian to notice the faded scar on your temple, the small small discoloration in one of your eyes and smell this wonderful perfume of yours mixed with your own intoxicating scent.
He had to gulp down against the lump in his throat he suddenly felt.
"No..." His voice was low and raspy, a little shaky even. 
Oh this was perfect. Just perfect.
Finally you would get a little revenge for him always making you feel like you would lose your mind, whenever he stepped into your personal space so recklessly.
A wave of confidence rushed through your veins from seeing him like this. Seeing how his freckled nose flared up with his quickening breath, his cheeks turning an adorable pink and his lips quivering a little.
The gasp that escaped those lips, when you put your hand on his hip to pull him closer, shot right down your body, right in between your legs. You wanted to get used to this feeling. You wanted to just let go and drown in this exciting promise of his gasp.
You had to hear it again.
"Oh, I don't think you'd be able to handle it. To handle me."
Sebastian was barely able to hold back a muttered "Fuck", showing just how desperate he was for you. How much your hand sent tingles up and down his spine and how your dark voice awakened something so even darker inside him.
He bit his lower lip, watching you very intently.
Though his eyes shortly closed with the new sensation of your other hand running up his arm, over his muscular bicep and shoulder, stopping at his neck.
Oh, and when you pulled him down by it, almost fully closing the distance between your lips, he again let a gasp escape his mouth.
This was too fucking addicting.
Your stomach wanted to turn upside down, your legs wanted to give out and your lips...they wanted to kiss him and show him how much you needed him.
Your fingers gently ran up his soft curly brown hair, twisting it a little and scraping his scalp. He seemed to enjoy the feeling, closing his eyes once more, but quickly opening them again, to stare down at your lips.
You neither noticed your other hand drawing small circles on his lower back nor your breasts pressing against his taut chest. Your mind was already dizzy, running a marathon in your head, which your heart apparently took part in, hammering so hard and fast that you could only hear your own pulse in your ears.
Yet the moment your lips ghosted over his plush ones, everything stopped.
As if your whole body just shut down.
It felt like forever until your body turned back on, but it must've been less than a millisecond, when something similar to a siren started to blare a warning in your head.
THIS IS YOUR BEST FRIEND!
Everything inside you started to initiate the plan for Code Red.
You pulled back, stepping away from Sebastian completely, your hands falling down from the desperate grip they just had on him, while your heart ached like a thousand needles were attacking it.
Your eyes darted everywhere except to the brunette, only allowing you to look at him once, to see his reaction to your sudden retreat. Seeing his big wide eyes, you knew you had to cover up whatever just spilled out of your heart. You couldn't let your unusual abrasive behavior destroy this friendship.
So you just giggled half-heartedly, trying to cover all of this up as your usual non-serious flirting. 
"See? Couldn't handle me..."
Your voice wasn't very convincing, but you chose to ignore it as best as you could.
"Now come on, Sallow, you dumbass. We should be getting back to the castle."
Nice save there, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes. Sebastian couldn't see it, as you already turned away, making your way towards the castle.
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madhatterbri · 8 months
Text
Lesson | E.M.
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Summary: Elijah is forced to pay for his past.
"You really are an easy man to predict, Elijah," the voice of one of his lovers from the past echoed. High heels clicked against the stone floor as she descended down the stairs. The vampire looked up to see her. She hadn't changed much.
He turned to see he was in one of the many tunnels underneath New Orleans. Candles attempted to light up his current prison. "Your family is in danger and you come running in to save the day,"
Minerva was a witch that was quite powerful back in the day. The last time he saw her she was begging him for forgiveness after her betrayal. She reported them to his father Michael.
Now he only wanted to make her suffer. Elijah was kind back then. He allowed her to plead for her life. The Original could hear her heart beat in her chest. How he wished he could rip it out of her chest. Elijah wrestled against the chains that imprisoned him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. It's going to hurt," she tsked as his skin burned. A grunt of pain ripped from his body. The handcuffs were laced with vervain. She clicked her tongue a few times while walking around him. "That's got to hurt,"
"What do you want?" He demanded. "You deserved whatever Michael did to you,"
"Revenge. You have forgiven that awful brother of yours for far worse than what I did to you," she spoke through gritted teeth. "You left me to die with your horrible father. All he wants is your bastard brother, Klaus! We could have had a life together if you allowed your father to take him,"
"A witch as yourself can't possibly be foolish enough to think you can bring down the Original family," he scoffed. The witch laughed. His eyes turned black at her lack of respect towards him.
"Not the whole family but you. I thought about how to exact my revenge ever since I stepped foot in New Orleans. I watched as you continuously fought for your family. I thought all was lost until," she stopped and smiled. Minerva looked at him with pure evil in her eyes.
"Until?" Elijah asked boredly.
"Until I saw you and the pretty little red head walking around New Orleans at night. Your newest victim no doubt," Minerva answered. Elijah's demeanor changed. Long gone was the tough exterior. His face crumpled in panic. His teeth were clenched.
"Leave her out of this," he demanded. He wrestled against the chains once more. Be damned the vervain laced handcuffs. Elijah had to protect you at all costs. You didn't deserve to get caught up in this.
Minerva giggled and looked at her watch. "Actually, she should be coming in any moment. A shame she is mixed up in all of this,"
"Do whatever you want to me. You have me right where you want me," he insisted. Elijah's enhanced hearing picked up the footsteps above. He hoped they didn't belong to you. "We can work out a deal, Minerva,"
"I don't have time for games, Elijah. Don't worry. I won't finish her off you will. I'll leave her down here with you all cut up. Eventually you will get hungry and well," she drifted off once the door opened. Elijah looked to see you being dragged down the stairs. You thrashed around to be free from your captors.
"Your name," Minerva announced with a wide smile. She waved her hand in excitement. You noticed the mysterious woman and then Elijah.
"Wh-what's going on?" You stuttered.
"Afraid your boyfriend over here needs to learn a lesson. I'm sorry but it seems like you are getting the punishment," Minerva pouted. She placed her hands on your cheeks. Panic started to set in. You knew your boyfriend wasn't a mortal human but this was too much. Quickly you shoved her hands from your face and attempted to run.
"I swear I will make your life absolutely unbearable every second you hurt her," Elijah threatened. His eyes black once more. Black veins appeared under his eyes. His fangs making an appearance. He had fed off of you before but this was all too real.
"Well, start counting the seconds then," she laughed. The witch moved her arm towards you. A simple hand movement and you dropped to the floor screaming in pain. Elijah watched you helplessly. Tears filled his eyes.
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majorproblems77 · 2 months
Text
Sacred Realm updated which means im actually so excited to be making this omg
Hi there Sacred Realm fans! :D
It is I, the one who makes the analysis posts on various comics on the internet. (With permission course) Because I love doing them and they bring me joy.
If you are unaware of what Sacred Realm is, it's a Legend of Zelda AU about a new Link who gets a little medallion that makes him a badass, also it can hold the spirits of heroes from across the realms (Including my fave boy ever okay)
Before I begin, I'll get the important stuff done, This is done with permission from @zelda-the-sacred-realm, and all art from the comics belongs to the comic artist. Please do me a favour and go and check it out because it's a wonderful comic and extremely well-drawn and written.
Now, grab some popcorn, and a drink and please enjoy me rambling about a comic that I enjoy so much. :D
Lets begin!
First, some sass
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Damn, possessed Link got a mouth on him. Low key I love him, he looks like he could go for round two like right now. Wouldn't be surprised if he went for the hero of time next.
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My eyebrows shot up at this.
Time KNOW's
let me repeat that
TIME KNOWS. HE KNOWS WHATEVER IS IN THE MEDALLION CAUSING THIS.
(More on this later)
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He knows he knows he knows he knows he knows
I can hear the mocking voice of Link while he is saying this. Time has experience with this particular entity before.
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Okay, so here is when it gets interesting.
Possessed Link or this entity I suppose, referring to Time and in turn Hylians as 'Your Race' Tells me a couple of things.
This thing in the medallion isn't a Hylian spirit. So as much and as fun as a dark link theory is, I dont think it could be.
Time arguing that we're not perfect, again referring to Hylians sounds very much like an "I'm speaking with a god speech"
I present my theory on what is in the medallion.
An extra spirit, a god of some description, from the spirit realm. Out to get revenge on Hylians.
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Time has been to the spirit realm, in his games. (I am under the assumption that those still occur in this canon please do correct me if I'm wrong here.)
I'm convinced that this thing in the medallion is a deity of some kind because of the eye colour. I can't get over it.
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This style of blue, with no pupils.
We've seen it before.
On Hylia.
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From Chapter 2 fate PT2
And here is the first time we see it on Link for comparison, With Sky's alongside him for comparison for what Hylian eyes look like.
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From Chapter 2 Fate PT3
The colour isn't exact so it can't be Hylia herself I dont think, but, i believe that there is a spirit trying to escape the sacred realm and is using Link to do it.
Okay, enough of my conspiracy theories moving on!
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Link you gotta wake up!
Sky thinks so, I love the coloured speech bubble, what a good idea.
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OH BOY I LOVE THESE PANELS
You know those scenes in video games when you're fighting off something that's trying to possess you and you have that ominous-sounding echo that seems to reverberate through your head. But is also muffled at the same time?
(If I find a game example I'll link it)
This. Put that noise you think off over this.
KICK ITS BUTT LINK GET IT, GET BACK IN HERE.
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These five panels tell so much when it comes to how much effort Link has to go through to fight off the medallion possession. I wonder if its going to be easier or harder for him to fight it off as he gains spirits in the medallion.
You can really feel his struggle and I just love it. The visual storytelling is incredible in this comic and I will fan girl about it all day because I just love it so much
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I'm thinking he says this to gauge just how bad this possession is. time seems like the guy who would, especially as he already seems to know what this is.
I wonder if he really is the hero of realms?
Yes, Time. Yes, he is.
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The face he dosent remember any time he's possessed by the medallion is a little worrying.
Makes me think that could be used later.
Like, Link dosent remember fighting this ice comet now. What if he fights an enemy while possessed, breaks the possession then has to relearn how to defeat it because as possessed link he's not gained any information.
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Man Link is a cinnamon roll sometimes and I love him dearly okay.
Alrighty, thats me finished with my rambling. Thank you so much for sticking with me through this! And thanks again to @zelda-the-sacred-realm for the permission to do these i really appreciate it.
Please please go and check out the rest of the comic if you haven't it's amazing :D
Thats me finished for this chapter, so I'll be headed out!
Hope you have a wonderful day! :D
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ultralightpoe · 3 months
Text
Vigilante Shit - Bucky Barnes
Authors Note: Never liked this one which is why it stayed in the drafts fr so long, it just always seemed empty. It's definitely missing something.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
Word Count:9,131
Warnings: Cuss words, reader was once apart of the red room
Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT.
Main Masterlist
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Enjoy!
Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man
You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them
Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie
They say looks can kill and I might try
I don't dress for women
I don't dress for men
Lately I've been dressing for revenge
-
It’s the pity on her face that makes you want to claw her eyes out, or maybe the happy family photo sitting on her desk staring and taunting you with their stupid smiling faces. Each of her children smiled like nothing was wrong in the world, like they didn’t have to worry about earning their way or surviving the day.
Dr. Aquinos children would never know pain.  
But that was a given, they weren’t bought and sold off. They weren’t tortured and abused for years only to be torn out when Natasha fucking Romanoff decides to free everyone from that chain and force them into the real world. 
Did it make you pathetic to say you missed it? 
In the red room you had a cot, a meal at least once a day and training. Out here you were no one. No trace of you existed. No ids, or photos, no friends or family. You were nothing. 
Even ghosts had more than you at this point. 
“You know it’s common to feel this way about it? That longing to have it back? It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.” 
You say nothing. 
“Have you given any thought to our last session?” The therapist asks, voice saccharine amount of sweet that tells you she knows your looking for a fight today and she won’t be giving into it. You hated that she knew you would try that, you hated these sessions all together. 
“Yes.” Lie. And judging by the quirk in her smile she knows it too. 
“I think it’s extremely important for you in this next step, to get rid of the suit. What was it they called you?” You don’t reply for a minute, your own little form of rebellion, but she doesn’t let you get away with it for long. “The…. Cobra?” 
“The. Viper.” You bite out, grinding your teeth together and fisting your hands at your side. “The Red Viper to be exact.” 
“Can you explain to me why it is you got that name? I mean your other counter parts all follow a …..widow theme….. but you don’t?” 
“It just….. happened that way.” You lie. “How much longer do we have?” 
Why did she not have a clock?
“Ah. So the story has something to do with Bucky Barnes.” She smiles and you fight back the sneer. 
“Nope.” 
“You always ask for the time when memories of him are brought up.” 
Not. True. You don’t bother arguing because that might prove her point. 
“Can you recall what he looked like?” 
A flash of ice blue crosses your mind, his eyes. Followed by roses and ballet slippers. A small opening to freedom right there in your grasp, his smiling face….. replaced by that of betrayal, the pain and torture you suffered for weeks after because he-
“No.” You lie. “I only knew him as the winter soldier.”
“Have you tried reaching out?” 
“No. And I never will.” Not until you were able to kill him, get your revenge. 
Your therapist didn’t know about your revenge list though,she would have you imprisoned for it. The list of names of every mastermind and agent that did you wrong, and at the very end of the list was the one person you actually managed to trick you, the one person you gave everything you had left to. 
Bucky Barnes would be the last person you killed in this life, and you would make sure to enjoy every second of it.  
-
It’s not everyday they pull you from your training program and load you into a transportation vehicle, and you don’t know whether to be scared or excited by the change in routine. 
You decide on excitement, because a widow is never. Ever. Scared. 
The keepers transporting you all avoid eye contact and you bite back the smirk, knowing that you installed that fear when you bit the thumb off the last guard that tried to touch you inappropriately. You might be hydras toy but you were not a plaything for these half wits. 
“Your mission will be in direct partnership with the Winter Soldat.” The agent in front of you explains, watching you load up your widow uniform with hidden weapons “there’s a list of names that needs to be taken care of, and it might take a minute so they are pairing you both. They want no mistakes, only the best.” 
“No traces no trails. No chances.” You answer, already having it memorized, biting down on your tongue when you remember the poor girl you left as a witness to your last mission. 
Hydra never found out, but her scared scream when she caught you killing her father will haunt you. 
You wondered if you might have had someone to scream over at one point. 
“He won’t speak to you so don’t bother.” The agent grunts as the vehicle comes to a stop and he slams his fist on the side to let them know it’s safe to open the doors. 
They all cast you another look as you try not to roll your eyes at the drama. If you truly wanted out of this vehicle you could slaughter them all, you just knew that hydra would track you down no matter what so what was the point?
They lead you down hundreds of gray halls, each getting darker than the last and the smell of mold and desperation heightened with each step. Finally at the very last cell door they all raise their weapons and slide it open, muttering something in Russian before a figure emerges. 
The glint of his arm catches on the shit light above you first, and then he is there, glowering and confused in the same go. 
“Soldat. This is the widow.” His mentor speaks in Russian, gesturing to you which makes the soldier give you one look. That’s it. One brief look of disdain and he goes back to looking at the mentor like you weren’t even there. 
This mission is going to go well. 
-
“You’re making progress Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums, her eyes glinting as she watches him over the pad of paper she hasn’t scribbled on in the past hour. He likes to think that it’s a good sign, but he also tries not to get into his own head about it. “But I’d like to go a little deeper if you’ll let me.” 
“Don’t really have a choice doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite. 
“Funny. Have you slept in a bed recently?” 
“I’ve made it to at least 3 hours of sleep in my bed.” He nods, not mentioning he thought the laundry detergent smelled like your shampoo. 
“You bought any home decorations? Anything at all?” 
“There’s a welcome mat by the front door.” 
“Inside or outside?” 
“…..inside.” He wasn’t brave enough to put it out in the hall yet. 
“I just want a house that has a welcome mat and that cookie smell. Something to call home.” Those were your words, whispered to him the night before the soldier….. 
“Tell me what you have been up to lately.” 
“Lunches with Yori….missions with Sam…. And I’ve been…. Trying to find someone.” 
“Someone from your time as the soldier?” 
“Yes.” His throat is tight and he might throw up. 
“For revenge?” 
“No…. Well she might want revenge…… I just want her.” He admits. 
Dr. Raynors eyebrows shoot up, and she tries to keep neutral as she asks the next question. “The viper then?” 
“She didn’t like that name.” 
“How did she get it?” 
“Me.” 
“And what did you call her if she didn’t like the name?” 
“Flower.”
I don't start it but I can tell you how it ends
Don't get sad, get even
So on the weekends
I don't dress for friends
Lately I've been dressing for revenge
The roof of the bagel shop on the stupid block you were on was probably the worst spot to be. 
Best, if you’re focusing on the fact that it’s the perfect hideout for the sniper gun you are aiming and the fact that you’re able to lay at a slant so your legs don’t falls asleep while you focus. 
Terrible for the fact that you could smell the pizza shop next door perfectly, and your stomach was beginning to rumble in hunger. 
But you had to focus, your target was supposed to be in his apartment right now, Viktor Aubrel, the man that sold you in the first place. 
Your intel told you he should have been home an hour ago and yet you were still waiting in the winter air that sent a shiver up your spine, too focused on the aim to realize the two figures now on the roof. 
“Are the widows that oblivious now?” A deep voice laughs causing you to whirl, knife out as you spot none other than the winter soldier and the new captain america, both watching you. 
It was the captain that taunted you, a sneer making its way into your lips as you prepare yourself to launch. The winter soldier extends a hand out, blocking the captain with a skeptical look. 
“Sam. A little forewarning, she doesn’t fight like the others.” He mumbles and you all but hiss, not giving either of them a moment before you’re launching at them. 
They track your movements well, both standing to fight as you run across the roof, jumping up on the ledge to give you the upper advantage and launch yourself at them. Starting with the easier target, the man with the shield. Wrapping your arms around his neck and spinning your body until you have his weight thrown in the air. He manages to catch himself standing but you’re ahead of the game, jumping so your feet are planted on his chest and shoving him off the roof right as the winter soldier gets to you.  
“I don’t want to do this.” He mutters and you hiss again, lunging with a knife out, slashing expertly over and over as he dodges as much as he can. “You don’t need to do this.” 
The knife catches in the elbow of his metal arm and his flesh hand comes up to grab your wrist so you twist, kicking his knee down and flick another knife from your uniform. 
“I want to.” You mutter in Russian, voice dripping with disdain as you raise the knife and bring it down. Only to get blasted across the roof. 
The air leaves your lungs as you skid across the concrete of the roof, splayed out staring at the sky and blinking away the pain. 
“She’s quicker than the rest.” Captain America huffs, helping the soldier up. 
“A lethal experiment. Taking a trained widow and injecting her with mutated blood of some guy named Logan Howlett.”
“Where does the viper come from?” 
“Her knives are all laced with venom and poisons. One touch to your skin and it doesn’t matter if it was a fatal wound or not. You’re out.” You hear them both approach, pretending to be passed out before they get close enough and you can kick the soldier in the stomach. He catches your foot, twisting so your body would have to twist with it or break, but you’re already pulling out a knife and launching it at the other. 
A shout of warning leaves the soldier's lips as the knife nearly gets his partner's thigh, you take this weakness and twist until you are wrapped around him and launching you both across the roof. But he is already working his way out, twisting so you slam into the roof once more, his metal arm on your throat holding you down as you claw at it. 
Panic attacks your body, scratching at the metal as the captain comes into view. 
“Stop. We can help you.” The man sighs. 
“Y/n.” The soldier mumbles, eyes pleading. “Let us help-“ 
Your foot bends to smash into his jaw and send him sprawling back. 
“That’s. Not. My. Name.” Your voice is scratchy from the choking and it hurts to talk, but you don’t have time since you’re already dashing to clear the roof. 
But the captain throws his shield and hits your ankle sending you falling until Bucky catches you and twists you with his metal arm so your back was to his chest and he can hold you. 
“It is. You told me so yourself. Remember?” 
“I wanna see my life before all this. I want to see my family and tell them I’m alive. My name was y/n. I found my file and I just-“ 
You were disgusted that you ever told him such things. 
“LET GO!” 
“We can help with your list.” It’s the caption saying this, his face holding pity. “We can’t kill but we can help take them down. If you’re willing.” 
“They all deserve to die!” The one holding you counted in that. 
“I’m not arguing that. But I am setting boundaries. Justice by more death is not the way to do this.” The man tries to ease, attempting a smile. “I’m Sam. You already know Buck-“ 
“Let me go!” 
“We’re proposing a partnership. We help you take them down, get them arrested and you don’t kill any of them.” 
“Right. And I get thrown in a cell right after I’m assuming.” You sneer, trying not to focus on the scent of hazel and coffee coating your senses from the soldier. 
“You will be pardoned. You had no choice back then and we are giving you one now. Pardoned.” 
“And what do you mean by taking them down?” What choice did you have? 
It had been a week with the soldier when he finally showed a small amount of emotion. Insane. 
You had been huddled in the corner of the abandoned hotel you made camp in, keeping close to yourself for warmth as he pretended to sleep by the wall. You knew he wasn’t actually asleep, not trusting enough to do so. And you don’t know when he does get sleep, all you know is you fight to the last possible moment your eyelids can stay open and you don’t sleep long. 
The exhaustion and the cold were beginning to wear you down, a week in and you had yet to kill a single person on this list because the Soldat refused to listen to how you can manage it. With him it’s all silent and watching, your missions were usually more lively. You wore disguises and set traps. Hydra liked sending messages and it’s what you did. 
They want a quick and efficient widow? They send Belova. They want a widow that draws attention to their dangers? A prize possession? They send you. 
Which is why this entire mission is so weird. Why send you if- before you can finish your thought you are being pelted with a warm jacket, the Soldat glaring at you. 
“Your teeth chattering is keeping me up.” He mutters in Russian, sitting up and checking all his weapons. 
“As if you sleep.” You reply back in Russian, rolling your eyes. His eyes flick to you in surprise for just a second before he trains them again, watching the window in the opposite corner. “What’s your name?” 
“Soldat.” 
“What’s your real name?” 
“I….. should the viper be asking questions?” He snaps, glaring once more before you roll your eyes and stand up. He watches your every move as you toss his jacket back and cross the room. “Where are you going?” 
“To be a viper.” You sneer back, enjoying the way the Russian makes the words bite out more. 
He stands up quickly when you move to climb out the window but you send him a glare and descend quickly, making sure he does not follow. 
When you get back three hours later, he is standing in the center of the room with his arms crossed and a glare on his features. 
You simply walk past him to grab your list, crossing off the first name. “Can we get an actual hotel this time? I need to shower some of this blood off.” 
As you move to walk past him his arm shoots out to grab you, pain erupting as he bends your neck to look at him. You would allow this, because is his anger is on you then he won’t look into the 2 little children you helped vanish tonight after you killed their father. 
“You do not make moves without me. Understood?” 
“Yes Soldat.” You try to nod before he lets go. 
“Viper.” He hisses. And you would allow it, because if anyone knew what you had done you would be killed. 
-
The three of you ended up in a warehouse not too far away from the roof you had been scouting on, bucky carrying your bag of weapons on his shoulder as he tried not to look at you while Sam paced back and forth. 
You sat on a fallen beam, seeming bored and uninterested as you picked at your nails. But Bucky knew that was your game, to let the world think you were a valid assassin with little to no care. 
But he knew you cared, he knew how much effort you had put into saving kids back then. You had always been so warm without even realizing it. 
But maybe that all changed, after it….. all happened he hadn’t heard about you again and after he was freed by Steve he couldn't seem to find any of the children you had saved. 
“What happened to them?” He finds himself asking, his chest pinching at the sight of you. His flower. But that look in your eyes, the betrayal and anger….. 
“The first three on my list? I dumped their bodies in the river.” You smile, turning your glare to Sam. “How about that pardon now?”
“The kids. The ones that you-“ you stand before he can finish his sentence , both him and Sam preparing for a fight as you seem to try and ease yourself. 
“What kids?” Sam snaps, anger and protectiveness rolling off of him. “Did you hurt-“ 
“No. She used to smuggle them out.” Bucky explains. “When she got missions if there was a kid in the family she would pretend to kill them, and help the kid out.” 
“I thought hydra confirmed kills by bodies.” 
“Not when you’re the best.” You smile, that vapid venomous smile that made Bucky's stomach churn. “And Soldat is right. I used to smuggle the kids out.” 
His chest hurts at the name you use, but he assumes that it’s fair. “Where are they now?” 
He wants you to look at him, to tell him they are all safe and that he didn’t ruin everything. But you keep your eyes trained away, pain flashing through your features as you explain. “After you…. Told them….. they got the names and locations from me and sent out the shadow widow.” 
“Kaltain Amerie.” Sam nods, recognizing the name. She was married to a fancy rich guy now, had been the one Yelena found. 
“She took care of what I couldn’t. She did the job.” You nod, hands fisting at your sides as the words clang into Bucky. “And I was punished for my failure.” 
“And the missions you got after they caught you?” Sam asks, casting a brief look to bucky at the word caught. 
“I had a partner, and they always made sure I did my job.” Fuck. 
He was going to puke, how many kids had….. 
“You mentioned an alliance. Not an interrogation.” You snap, obviously uncomfortable. “And if you want to revoke my pardon because of-“ 
“I don’t.” Sam says gently, nodding. “And I’m sorry that it happened.” 
“I’m not.” It was a lie and Bucky could taste it. Anything to keep both of them away, that wall you built up when he first met you. 
“Okay. The name on your list. Let’s talk about how to get him.” Bucky changes direction, wanting to get you to ease again, not liking the pain in your eyes. 
You continue to avoid looking in his direction, and he continues to stare at only you. 
She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some
She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?
Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride
Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife
And she looks so pretty
Driving in your Benz
Lately she's been dressing for revenge
-
It’s a month into the mission when the Soldat tells you his name. 
Gone were the days of sleeping on opposite sides of the room, now you both shared a bed. Gone were the days of him not sleeping, and he was now the one that fell asleep first. 
Tonight being one of those nights, with you sitting against the headboard of the hotel bed, his forehead pressed into your thigh as he falls asleep slowly, letting you play with his hair as you review footage of your next name. The third on the list. 
“My name….” He mutters, this time in English which still shocks you everytime he does. “It’s Bucky.” 
“Bucky?” It tastes like vanilla on your tongue, your chest lightening as you whisper it a couple more times. “I like it.” 
“What’s yours?” 
“My file…. My file says Y/n.” You whisper back and he tilts his head up to look at you. 
“You don’t seem to like it.” 
“I….. it just doesn’t feel real.” You admit. “It feels wrong for me to use it.” 
“I think it’s a wonderful name. It suits you well but… I think you’re my flower.” He murmurs back, moving to press his forehead into your thigh once more and finally lets sleep claim him. 
The next morning you both work in tandem, cleaning weapons, he gives you time to make sure that your knives are still potent with venom as you try to come up with a plan to get the 5 year old girl out of the country without the soldier knowing. 
But the betrayal of it hurts your chest, watching him work around you as a smooth unit. A team. That’s what you had become. 
“Ready?” He asks in Russian, coming up to fix the hair that had fallen out of your braid, using his flesh hand to push it behind your ear as his thumb traces your jaw. 
“Always. You?” 
“With you my little flower? Always.” 
-
It was ironic the way you and the Soldat still worked in tandem, moving with an effortless grace. 
Sam, the captain, watches with wide eyes as you both move around each other. 
“Do we have-“ 
“Yes we have enough intel.” You snap, closing the camera footage the second you spot the young boy running down the hall of the mansion when both him and his mom get home. The pain in your chest could be blamed on the image, and or the stupid soldier standing too close to you. “I can smell your breath.” 
“He ate a cheeseburger for lunch again?” Sam chuckles and you stand straight, giving him wide eyes as the Soldat rolls his own. “You know you can’t get in trouble for calling him an idiot, right?” 
“I’m aware.” Your words come out clipped and you try not to shudder at the way Sam snickers, catching your lie. 
“Say it.” 
“Say what?”
“Call Barnes a dumbass.” 
“I won’t speak to the Soldat.” You reply, moving to clean your knives. 
“Oh come on. Try it. It helps me..” sam laughs, sitting across from you at the kitchen counter as the Soldat shuffles closer to help you clean the knives. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him. 
“You….. are a dumbass.” You squeak out, not looking at him. You hear him snort behind you and he reaches across to grab another knife. You roll your eyes at the way he presses his body next to yours. 
“That was lame. Try again.” Sam laughs. 
“Fine. You’re a DUMBASS!” You snap out, watching both their eyes widen before laughs break out and they start cracking up. 
You feel your stiff spine loosen a little, the anxiety easing as you start laughing as well, all three of you cackling. His flesh hand finds its way to your lower back to keep you stable as you both drop the knives to laugh. And finally, after three weeks of working with them you drop the angry front, and give in to their warmth even though everything in you screams to not fall for it. 
-
“Is this….. proper mission food?” You ask from the spot you had taken at the window, watching Bucky and Sam come in with pizza boxes and beer in their hands, both laughing at each other . 
Bucky had, sort of tripped up on the stairs which sent Sam in a spiral of making fun of him, but the second they laid eyes on you that humor fell out the window, both going quiet. 
“You don’t think pizza and beer are good?” Sam asks, offended. “This is the best combo.” 
“Is it…. Allowed?” You ask again and Bucky feels that pang in his chest before he passes the box to you and opens it smoothly. 
“You get the first slice pick.” He offers and Sam gasps at the counter. 
“That….. oh that’s just cruel to me.” 
“It’s an honor to pick the first slice then?” You quirk your eyebrow, humor written on your face, the spark in your eyes setting him on fire. “This is a New York custom?”
“Oh indeed.” He smiles, pushing the box closer to you. “It would be a great dishonor to refuse this.”
There is a second of discomfort, he watches you contemplate it before you reach for a slice, grabbing the largest slice and raising your eyebrows as you wait to see their reactions. 
“Perfect choice!” Sam grunts, reaching around you to grab another slice. 
“I was going to choose that one.” Bucky smiles, watching you bite it immediately then stick out your tongue at him before taking up a spot on the couch as both of them find their own seats in the living room. You seem tense still, obviously not used to this sort of freedom anymore and his lungs constrict at the thought that this was caused by him. 
Back then you had been so… warm and open. Even as an agent you melted the ice exterior the soldier had around him. And through the muddled haze of his memory every memory attached to you was always crystal clear, like a flame in the fog. 
“So…. you guys knew each other back when he was the Winter Soldier?” Sam asks, popping the lid off of a beer with ease, he leans forward on his knees and pretends to be more interested in the pizza box. Making it seem like he was an open book, a comforting thing. 
“Yeah, we had a long list of enemies that they wanted us to deal with.” You answer, looking to the window rather than either of them. 
“It seems like it went wrong…” 
“It went fine.” Bucky is quick to snap. 
“It was fine. We made it through half the list, before Hydra had to get involved.” You snap as well moving to set the rest of your slice on the plate left on the table for you. “I made a mistake.”
“It wasn’t-” Bucky goes to argue, chest tight.
“I let emotions muddle my task.” You explain to Sam. “I got too attached and ruined it. And then I got caught smuggling the kids out- I was further reported for my behavior and handled accordingly.”
“Hey, this isn’t Hydra.” Sam tries to ease you. “I think what you did was very noble and-”
“All I did was give kids hope where it didn’t belong.” You sneer. “I will never allow myself that weakness again.” 
You cast Bucky a glare, his palms sweating and chest blistering as he watches you disappear into the bathroom and the shower running a second later. 
Sam continues watching Bucky, eyebrows pinched together. “You reported it?”
“I… as much as I broke away at that time I was still under the soldiers spell.” Bucky admits, gulping down half the beer in his hand. “I…. I had sent in a mission report. Well I had to send it in and I had caught her plan a little bit before that.”
“I’m sorry that happened, Buck.”
“I am too.” He sighs. “I got rewarded and she… well they broke her.”
She don't start it, but she can tell you how it ends
Don't get sad, get even
So on the weekends
She don't dress for friends
Lately she's been dressing for revenge
“You need to be careful in the upper levels.” He warns, keeping his flesh hand on the small of your back as you both move to start scaling the side of the house. 
“I know.” You growl out, keeping your voice low as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. “Don’t be a worry wart.”
“Stick to my side.”
“The job is quicker if I take care of the kids.” You mumble, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly, the closest you had ever gotten to actually kissing him, no matter how much you wanted to. Three months with him and you were hopelessly in love. 
“Fine.” He grunts out, his Russian sharp. He nods once before moving to his starting point, checking that you had begun scaling the wall to the kids room before heading in to handle the parents. But you had been so caught up in Bucky that you didn’t check to make sure both the children were asleep. 
The girl screamed first, followed by the boy and you began rushing to ease their worries, kneeling by them and trying to swipe the tears away. “No no. Easy my little ones. It’s okay. I just need you to listen-”
But the boy screams again, this time at something behind you which makes you whirl to find Bucky in the frame of the door, watching intently with blood on his arm. 
“No! Please!” You beg, up on your feet and shoving yourself in front of the children as he cocks his head to the side. “Please.”
“Move.” He orders, raising his gun. It seems he’s already assessed the weakness and was willing to handle the problem. “Now.”
“No!” You hadn’t even realized that tears were falling down your face until you could taste the salt, moving forward to grab his gun. “Please!”
“The mission-”
“They are children.” Both of you were speaking Russian, which seemed to be scaring the kids even more as they wailed, and you turned to ease them again. They dash into your arms, holding you tight as they sob. You would die before letting anything happen to them. 
When you turn to see him again you see that he has lowered the gun and is merely staring at you, something sparking in his eyes. 
You wait for the blow, but it never comes. Instead he nods his head and moves to pick up the boy. He helps you get them out, aboard a ship and hidden from Hydra. When you make it back to the hotel you pace a bit, waiting for him to finish you off. 
But he merely stands in the center of the room, watching you closely. 
“I’m sorry.” You sob, hand on your chest as you turn to him finally. “I failed the mission and-”
He moves forward in three easy strides, his hands grasping your jaw to bring you up into a searing kiss, arms wrapping around you tightly as he lifts you off the ground to keep you close. And all anxieties peel away, as he lifts his hand to undo your suit. Giving yourself to the soldier that night, and once you were done you stay huddled together, whispering your dreams of the past and future. 
And for once you felt like…. You were home. 
The next morning tensions were gone, and you seemed to have forgotten about the night before. Or at least you were pretending to, and Bucky didn’t know if he should be happy or angry at the fact. 
You had combed through all the footage of the target, piling it all into a folder and he had sent the flash drive to the people needed that would be able to get him arrested. And after that had been sent you had sent out another envelope to his wife, with proof of an affair so she would be able to divorce him. 
And just like that another name was taken off your list, and Bucky tried not to feel the pressure at the fact that he was sure you would be gone the second the list was done. And he wouldn’t have an excuse to see you anymore. 
He’s lucky Sam went along with this plan in the first place. 
“Where is Sam?” You ask from your spot at the counter, legs crossed as you play with one of your knives, watching him closely where he sits on the couch. 
“He went to go check on his sister and her kids.” He answers, looking up to you. “They are really close.”
“That’s nice.” You hum, dropping the knife out of boredom. “What comes next?”
“You got another name?”
“Are we allowed to start without Sam?” You ask, eyebrows pinching together. 
“Yes. We can. Your list?” 
“Front pocket of my duffel.” You hum out, something having caught your attention. He reaches for the bag and checks for the list as you shuffle closer to his open laptop. For a second he hears you hesitate, but he had already made it clear that you had access to anything so he nods and lets you look as he finds the paper you wrote the list on. 
His eyes skim across the names, landing on the very last name as his heart stops. ‘Bucky Barnes’ , and no matter how many times you blink the name does not disappear. Why did you let him see this? Was this a trap set?
He whirls, only to find you staring at the screen unblinking. “Flower?”
Your head snaps to glare at him as he shuffles closer, shoving your list in his pocket and looking at what had caught your attention. He finds an old sitcom, a scene with a mother curled up with her kids and reading them a bedtime story. 
“You never told me why.” He mutters, sitting on the couch with you on the floor staring at the screen again. 
“Why what?”
“Why did you risk your life for all those kids?”
“Because they… because no one fought for me back then.” You admit, turning to look at him. “What is this show?”
“Full house. I don’t know, Steve put it on my list.”
“Your list?” You ask and he nods. 
“Things to catch up on.” He smiles. “Like the star wars series.”
“The what?” He blinks slowly at your question, purely shocked.  
Three hours later you are both sprawled out on the couch, pillows and blankets thrown about with snacks everywhere. Bucky had dragged you out to the store, buying tons of snacks that you had never tried before and before you knew it the apartment cupboards were packed with snacks and you were preparing to see the first star wars. 
“Should we… have brought all this to the mission base?”
“The what?” He laughs, leaning forward to snatch a gummy worm from the bag you were holding. 
“The… this apartment. Are we allowed to use it for this?”
“It’s my apartment.” He shrugs, and you blink slowly. 
“It’s empty though.” 
“I have a couch!” He scoffs. “And a tv!”
“No bed, no plushy towels or…. This is your home?” You didn’t know why this upset you. “You live like this?”
You want to kill him. You want to kill him. Why does this matter?
“I have a welcome mat.” He points to the door. 
“That’s an ugly welcome mat.” 
“Is not.”
“That would scare away any child on halloween.” You snap. “Are you trying to ruin their halloween?” 
“No one really comes up here on halloween.” He shrugs again. “Why does it matter?”
“You… you’ve been free! You have been free this whole time and this is how you live and- I…..”
“I had other things to worry about besides Hydra. And John Walker. Tony Stark and the snap and- well I was trying to find you.” He admits. 
“You were trying to find me?” Your chest constricts, as you watch him. “You tried to find me?”
“I did but after I was freed it was like they made you completely disappear and I’m assuming it’s because they knew I would start looki-” Before he can finish his sentence his phone rings and he sees Sams name, giving you an apologetic look before picking it up. You take a moment to try and fix yourself, taking deep breaths in. “He WHAT?”
This catches your attention, sitting up to watch him carefully as he stands. “I’ll be right there.”
He hangs up and nods. “I gotta go help Sam. Stay here and-”
“I’m coming with you.” You snap, moving to grab your duffel.
“No, we have a situation with John Walker and I need to-”
“I am coming.” And just like that you grab your suit, giving him your best glare as he shakes his head. “You both are helping me. The least I can do is help you.”
“You don’t have to.” He mumbles. 
“But I will. Let’s go.”
Ladies always rise above
Ladies know what people want
Someone sweet and kind and fun
The lady simply had enough
“Thank you.” You whisper, keeping your head on his chest as you trace patterns along his skin. “Thank you for helping.”
“If you got away what would you do?”
“Me? I….. I would find the kids and make sure they made it. I would buy a house and get a cheesy welcome mat for it. I would decorate for halloween and….. And I would adopt a kid and-” You could taste the freedom, imagine it right there. A happy life. 
“That sounds… amazing, flower.” 
You lift your head, smiling softly as you lean up to kiss him, and he smiles back before moving to kiss you back. 
You feel him stiffen before sitting up quickly and reaching for his knife. “Bucky?”
“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I’m so sorry.”
Before you can realize the door is blown open and agents rush in to grab you. 
“Oh…. oh I like this duo.” John Walker smiles, watching you stand slightly behind Bucky with your arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word and neither do you, both giving him a good glare. The Winter Soldier and The Viper. “I hadn’t realized that Bucko boy came with his very own sidekick.”
“этот идиот знает, что от него пахнет рыбой?” (does this imbecile know he smells of fish?) You ask, sneering a bit and taking a step closer to Bucky. “и так небрежно использовать свое имя. Я могу сломать этого человека за считанные минуты.” (and to use your first name so casually. I can break this man within minutes.)
“Я с нетерпением жду этого. Еще я очень голоден, мармеладных червячков мне не хватило, чтобы поесть..” (I look forward to it. I'm also very hungry, gummy worms were not a sufficient meal)
You nod, trying not to smile as he gives you a look over his shoulder while Walker shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. “Shouldn’t we all speak english?”
“Maybe.” Sam shrugs. “But I find it’s easier to let these two do their thing. You said something about a raid?”
“There is a train heading down south here in 30 minutes and I know for a fact that there are rebels planning on stealing what’s on it.”
“What’s so important about what’s on the train?” Bucky asks, casting a look towards you and you see him catalog each and every one of your weapons just as he always used to do as the soldat. You give him a glare and he shrugs. 
“Weapons.” John mutters. “And if we can intercept the rebels then-”
“You get your job back?” Sam snides.  John stutters for a second and you snort, enjoying the panic on his face. He glares at you, preparing to say something as you step forward to grab one of your knives. You had no clue who this man was but it was easy to know that he was not an ally. 
“Get your-”
“She’s not a dog.” Sam snaps, as Bucky sneers. “We’ll help, but on our terms. No one gets hurt and no one gets pummeled without cause.”
“Fine. Let’s see what you guys can do.” John sneers at you both, and Bucky sends you an easy smile over his shoulder as you smile back. 
“Устроить им ад?” (Give them hell?) 
“следую твоему примеру, Барнс.” (Following your lead, Barnes) You smile back, both of you swiveling to Sam and moving together. 
You stand with him on a bridge, keeping a hand on his arm to stabilize yourself as you keep an eye on the ledge, fixing the comm in your ear with your other hand as he does the same. 
“I….. I never wanted to betray you.” He blurts, as John tries to convince Sam to give him one of their comms, his argument of ‘I’m part of the team!’ almost making you snort. But Bucky’s words kept your attention as you tried to play it cool. Keeping your eyes trained on the bridge before you. 
“Is this a good time to talk about this?” You mutter in Russian, just in case Walker could hear you both like you could hear him. 
“It was the status report. They were making me do it every month and….. I fought it. I really tried to fight it.” He admits in russian, casting a look to Walker before turning back to you, his hand shooting out to wrap around your arm as you lean to prepare a landing. “Careful.”
“I thought…. You were…. Nevermind it was my mistake.”
“It wasn’t a mistake.” He snaps, pulling you closer. “It… It was everything to me.”
“I shouldn’t have. I should have kept my eyes on the mission and I ruined it and I ruined it for those kids. You were a weapon dangled before me, they knew I would fall for it. They knew I would fall for the freedom of it. And I’m sure they already knew that I was helping those kids and they just needed to prove-” The words are spilling out and you just can’t seem to stop them, tears beginning to fill your eyes. “I just wanted… I just wanted to help them.”
“You did.” He mumbles, moving until his chest is pressed to your shoulder. “Please look at me.” 
“I messed it all up.”
“You didn’t mess anything up-”
“I did. I fell in love.” You finally look at him, tears in your eyes as he takes a deep breath in. 
“I-”
“Incoming.” It’s Sam's voice in the comms that makes you both jump before you look to see the train coming. 
“On it.” You mumble back in english, stabbing a knife into the brick beneath you as Bucky keeps a hold on your arm. 
“Be careful, we’ll be right behind. Keep a knife ready and-”
“I’ve got it.” You laugh, watching the train get closer and closer. 
“I just worry.” He admits, leaning forward to kiss your cheek softly. “And just so we are clear, I fell in love too.”
You try not to smile, giving him one last look before using the chord and launching down as you hear Sam count down in the comms, feet landing on the top of the train with a thud before you dive for the top grate and begin working on tearing it off. 
You manage to tear it off in time to duck and lay flat as a sign under the bridge appears, managing to avoid it before crouching and climbing in as the train breaks from the bridge, three heavy sets of footprints hit the top of it while you climb across boxes to get to the end of the cart. 
“Viper?!” Walker calls, landing in the crate followed by Bucky and Sam. You don’t bother answering, too busy trying to lift the shaft on the cart. 
“You good?” Sam asks, coming to your side. 
“I’m fine.” You mumble. “I can handle the mission sir-”
“Did you just sir me?” Sam laughs, leaning to help you with the shaft, letting the sunlight break in as the wind snaps in both your faces. 
“You guys see anything?” John yells across the way as Bucky hops over a box and reaches you both. 
You have just enough time to turn, ready to bite a response to Walker when you spot the bomb taped to the far wall. Your mouth opens in an attempt to yell a warning but it’s too late. It all blasts to shit. 
There was nothing but pain as you hung suspended in the cell, the Shadow Widow sneering at you from her spot in the corner while Valkov took a break from torturing you. Your breathing is ragged, blood falling out of your mouth with the saliva as your eyes water. 
You can no longer feel your legs, and your fingernails had been torn out first. Sobs racking through your body as he asks the question again, his russian loud. 
“WHERE ARE THE LOOSE ENDS?!!”
You couldn’t betray the kids, you couldn’t do it. So when he picked up the drill you closed your eyes, sobbing once more as you try to blink Buckys face out of your memory, succumbing to your punishment. 
Heat blasts against his back as you scream out, Sam yelling loudly, all three of you grasping anything you can as the train keeps going. 
Bucky’s metal arm finds purchase on a broken handle of the train, trying to pull himself up as Sam grips the side grates of the train trying to activate his falcon wings while you struggle to keep hold of what is left of the floorboard in the train car, nails scraping as you grimace in pain while your legs stay suspended in the air. 
“HOLD ON!” He calls, reaching his flesh hand for you before the metal of the door groans and he has to freeze. 
Walker appears, bleeding from his ears and looking frazzled as hell, but Bucky breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees the idiot reach to help you. Hope that you would make it out of this mess, that is until John stumbles as he reaches for your hand and ends up making you lose your holding. 
You scream out, nails scraping as you slide out, nearly all your body suspended in the air. Both Bucky and Sam scream, reaching for you before they realize they can’t. 
“When does this fucking bridge end?” Bucky snaps, looking down to the hundreds of feet below, memories flashing in his mind. 
“Language.” Sam grunts, exhaling in relief when he sees you manage to grab the final woodboard, your last chance at holding on. 
“Complete the mission.” You snap. “I can get up.”
“We don’t leave each other behind.” Bucky grunts, using his flesh hand to reach for a rope connected to the roof of the train car. 
“Hydra tells us we need to complete the missi-”
“This isn’t Hydra and I’m not leaving my girl on this train.” Bucky snaps and Sam whoops out a loud ‘fuck hydra’ as they both struggle to get to the main opening. 
There are thuds on top of the train and you risk a look to see multiple hooded figures with bags getting ready to ransack the weapons. A grunt of anger passes through you as let one hand free from the board, much to Bucky's chagrin as he yells out for you before you reach and grab your compact launcher you had hidden in the belt of your suit and shoot the roof with the grappling hook, pulling yourself up right in time for Walker to fall back into the car. 
“This manchild is useless.” You sneer, reaching for Bucky immediately, hands grasping his tactical vest and dragging him as much as you can into the train car as Sam struggles to get in as well. 
“There are about 15 figures. We should have about 10 minutes before they blow the rest of this train up.” You explain, keeping your hands on his shoulders as you assess him. “Are you hurt?”
“No I’m-”
“I’m hurt!” Walker calls, making you hiss an unappealing word at him in russian before moving to look at Sam. 
“Do you want the viper or me on this mission?”
“Viper would be nice.” Sam nods, looking at all the weapons. “Viper for sure.”
You nod, turning to assess Bucky one more time before he nods at you and you both begin working.   
While he was doing lines
And crossing all of mine
Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI
And I don't dress for villains
Or for innocents
I'm on my vigilante shh again
You both work in tandem, every punch he throws shoves the person straight into your kick. You slash your knife at anyone that gets too close to him, slicing their skin easily as he snipes out anyone rushing to the train. 
Sam is finding the rest of the bombs, disarming them to the best of his ability. 
You hiss in pain when you get hit in the jaw, but Bucky is there smashing the butt of his gun to the back of their head as you blink away the tears. His hand finds your jaw, assessing the damage before turning and nodding to the path you guys need. 
“So…. what’s the plan after this?” He asks, huffing as he gets to the slate you had originally been planning on clearing. 
“After this? Probably dinner.” You laugh, bending to break the controls. He adjusts himself so you were back to back, him watching to make sure you were good. 
“I mean…. After this mission.” 
“I….. I want to finish the list.” You answer, tearing out a board to access the rest of the control panel. 
“Does that list still include me?” He blurts, making you freeze. When you don’t answer he looks down to see you already staring up at him with wide eyes. 
“You saw that?”
“On your list. Highlighted and everything.” He nods, snapping his attention to a thud across the way, finding it empty. It was enough to get you back to work, focusing on the wires and buttons again. “I would understand if you wanted to-”
“I don’t anymore.” You snap. “I don’t think I ever would have been able to but it’s not like I planned to make it far after I got out. I didn’t have a plan. Everyone else had a plan and I was left! I was tortured and maimed for wanting that freedom, and when the time came I was the only one that had nothing to live for.” 
You were seething, and he could only agree. He hated the other widows for what they did to you, that would never be forgiven. 
“I wanted a family. That’s all I wanted.” You whisper, finally breaking the right chord. The lights immediately die out and the train lurches as it comes to a complete stop. 
“Is that still what you want?” He whispers back, holding his hand out for you to grab and help you up. 
“I don’t deserve it.” 
“You are the only person in this entire universe that deserves that.” He snaps. “And it’s important to me that you know that.”
“It’s not like I have much of a future open.”
“Well I think you have a bit of a future in the vigilante game if you ask me.” He smiles. 
I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends
Don't get sad, get even
So on the weekends
I don't dress for friends
Lately I've been dressing for revenge
“I’m sorry, you used to what?!” Sarah laughs, coming around the kitchen counter to grab a bottle of soda from your hand, eyes wide. “Dip your knives in lethal poison.”
“It made things easier. Even if I didn’t hit a vital organ I still knew the job was done.” You explain, shrugging a bit as she laughs. You still got nervous when talking about your past, but Sarah seemed anything but judgemental. 
Sam's sister ended up being your very best friend on this earth, which surprised you to no end. You loved her kids and you loved her. You especially loved girls night because you never thought this would be an option in general. Nonetheless you had friends now. You had a home, with a silly little welcome mat that was left on the porch for the trick or treaters every year. 
The very same one that was getting trampled on every time Sarahs kids ran through with your adopted children, covered in mud and laughing loudly. 
“Hey! Mind your mess!” She snaps out but you can’t stop smiling as you watch your adopted 4 year old chase after one of her sons. 
“What are you up to?” Bucky asks, coming in from the garage with Sam and Joaquin smiling from ear to ear as he rushes to kiss at your jaw. 
“We are getting ready.” You laugh, shooing him away. 
“For?”
“The Eras movie. You have daughters now Barnes. You need to get with the program.” Sarah scoffs playfully, making her brother laugh as they pick up the snacks and head to the living room. 
“Hey…. I just wanted to say thank you for your help on the mission the other day.” Torres smiles before following the rest into the living room leaving you with Bucky. 
“Hear that? Vigilante shit right there.” You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him. 
“Still waiting for you to kill me.” He whispers against your lips, winking before heading to catch your daughter as she tries to dash past, making her laugh loudly and reach for you.
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follows-the-bees · 4 months
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I haven't done any cinematography/camerawork meta analysis threads recently and it's making my brain itch. So here's a small analysis of how negative space is used in the show to express characters' emotions. This is the first in a series.
The use of greenery in negative space in episode 1x7: This Is Happening
First, Jim stands alone in a field with Olu small in the distance, reflecting Jim's mindset of being on their own, isolated. We know from Olu that Jim doesn't talk much about their personal past, and this shot is right after Jim confronts their past, which turns negative.
They isolate and go to their old land, seeking comfort in the openness and of the past: where everything changed.
Olu follows them, not leaving Jim alone in this vast negativity: literally and figuratively.
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Next, Olu and Jim face each other, with space in between them, a stone wall behind Jim, and open space behind Olu. This once again reflects their mindset.
Jim opened up to Olu, telling him the truth about their past, introducing him to the person that raised them. Shooting them in profile, completely facing each other shows how open they are now after that previous shot: they are on equal footing, no longer Jim with their back turned to Olu in the distance.
While they are drawn to one another — they almost kiss — what is behind them foreshadows the end of the episode.
Jim still has a wall behind them — they have decided to continue on their journey of revenge — and therefore must leave. Olu on the other hand, has open space behind him because he is open to Jim and whatever is happening between them.
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Now moving into the A storyline of Lucius, Ed, and Stede. This overhead shot consists of mostly neutral colors, the only pops are the fire, the purple of Ed, and the green leaves. Ed and Stede sit right next to each other, but their bodies are turned inward, knees almost touching. (This exact same position happens multiple times throughout the show including in 2x4 on the couch in Mary and Anne's home.)
The green is attached to the humans, especially to Ed and Stede, and it being the main pop (along with a kindling, warm fire) in this scene reveals what is important in the scene: the people.
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When we move to the two shot, Lucius still dirties the shot in the foreground, but the focus is on Ed and Stede. Just like with Olu and Jim, there is a small space between them and larger space on each side, particularly the green is more on Stede's side, but Ed's purple shirt — which shows his growing feelings for Stede — is out and proud.
That kindling, warm fire is now shown between Ed and Stede, bringing that metaphor up front in this angle.
This whole episode is Stede subconsciously trying to get Ed to stay. His space on his side is open and green, just like his feelings for Ed.
A large palm tree sits behind Ed in his space because his feelings are shown through his purple shirt. Just like Stede, he has growing love for him but isn't as open at this point. (Lucius talks to him about not being a dick and Stede has feelings for him.)
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I also love this shot when both the A and B plotlines merge together.
Stede is in the same position as when he looks at the ruined, burned map, but this time he's excited, he found the treasure. Ed and Lucius are on one side and Jim and Olu on the other, Stede bridging the storylines and characters.
Greenery, the stone wall, and particularly the sun are the bright spots in this shot of mainly neutral colors. The sun shining down on all these characters shows how their relationship has changed since the previous shots/beginning of the episode. Olu and Jim are about to split up so they stand in more darkness, while Ed and Stede are right under the sun, the light that is used throughout the show to represent their love (especially Stede's — but that a whole other post I'm working on) is bright and center.
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And I'll end with this shot, which unfortunately is cropped, but in the full shot there is open space on either side of the couple. But luckily I want to focus on the space between Ed and Stede. The space here is bridged by their hands touching and holding the petrified orange. (Later on, Stede talks to this orange, calling it Edward in symbolism of his new versus old life).
Stede and Ed parallel Olu and Jim's earlier shot of facing each other but they complete the gap and touch. Their relationship has changed by this point, they are closer: emotionally and physically.
The negative space used in these shots show us the emotional state of the characters, from the green space around them showing their isolation, to by the end the greenery space shows how they have become closer.
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little-emerald-snake · 3 months
Text
Hate Sex - Sebastian Sallow X Leander Prewett
🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI
Warnings: m/m, prewlow, dom!sebastian, sub!leander, rough sex, name calling, unprotected anal sex, mentions of condoms but no use
1k words
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Leander slammed the door to the bathroom open, crossing the threshold while pushing his thumbs deeply against his temples. “Holy fuck, Sallow. Drop it already. I said I was sorry I got knocked out of the duel early. I told you what happened over and over. I can’t change it. So why the fuck are you still taking the piss out of me?”
Sebastian was hot on his heels, sleeves rolled up, robe and tie abandoned with his blind Slytherin companion back at the arena. His freckles stood out against the reddened skin of his anger filled face. “Because Prewett, nobody gets this far in Crossed Wanda only to lose by tripping over his damned school robes. I told you to take the bloody thing off anyway. You cost us a lot of fucking points…”
Leander rolled his eyes, thankful the Slytherin was still behind him and couldn’t see his reaction. “What is screaming at me going to do?” He finally turned to face the brunette in the middle of the bathroom. “I can’t fix it and you can’t keep bloody going on about this forever? Are you looking for a fight?”
Danger flared in Sebastian’s eyes and he ate the distance up between them. Leander readied himself for a fist but only let his eyes widen in surprise when the freckled face in front of him changed. His brown eyes now showed a different kind of heat he’d never seen on the Slytherin before.
Before he could ask, Sebastian pushed Leander against the sinks, strong freckled arms wrapping around him as their lips connected. Leander stayed absolutely still, trying to get his brain to catch up with the drastic change of pace.
Finally his eyes slid shut and his hands wrapped around Sebastian’s broad shoulders. Sebastian grunted, pushing harder so the gingers back slammed against the tap behind him.
Leander whimpered into the kiss, pain lancing through him but not enough to break his hands hungrily sweeping over the muscles under the shirt of the man kissing him.
At the sound of voices outside they broke apart. Faces flushed with shame, hair ruffled from greedy hands, and trousers tight with the electric excitement coursing through them.
Sebastian cleared his throat, stepping back a bit and casting a glance around the bathroom. Were they even alone in there? How careless could he have been. He quickly casted a spell to see if anyone was in the room and upon finding it empty save for them he casted a locking charm on the door. “Shall we continue arguing or do you want to take the punishment?”
Leander knew he should deny him and leave while he could. But everything in his body yearned for the Slytherin to touch him, he craved those fingers that sent fire racing through his veins.
He nodded, ignoring his better judgment and choosing to continue with whatever path they were careening toward. Sebastian stepped closer again, boots echoing off the bathroom walls around them. “Turn around and pull down your trousers.”
Leander reddened. “Why me? Why don’t you take my cock?” Sebastian just raised a brow in challenge which caused Leander to deflate a little. Sebastian chuckled. “This is your punishment for causing us to lose. Now. Turn around.”
Leander bit into his lip, swallowing harshly while undoing his trousers and turning around. He pulled them down just enough to make room for Sebastian. The brunette crowded up behind him, pushing down on the back of Leander till his chest met the cool porcelain of the sinks.
Sebastian hummed in satisfaction, undoing his trousers. “I should go get a condom before I fuck your tight ass but I want to feel every second of exacting my revenge on you.”
Leander sighed in relief when Sebastian muttered a lubrication charm behind him. He felt the slickened blunt tip of the Slytherin’s cock nudge his entrance and swallowed nervously.
Sebastian prodded his entrance again. “Stop clenching. Just let me fuck you already.” Leander blew out a heavy breath as finally Sebastian pushed past the tight ring of muscle. Leander squeaked, teeth gritting at the intrusion.
Sebastian groaned, slamming his hips forward into Leander, keeping one hand on the ginger's hip and the other slid up to the center of the back, keeping him in place. “You’re lucky your ass feels so fucking good right now or I’d still be going off on you.”
Leander moaned, tightening around Sebastian and drawing a groan from the man above him. His hips slammed harder causing Leander to have to hold the mirror in front of him to keep his head from slamming against it. “E-easy…”
Sebastian chuckled, somehow fucking him harder. “What…can’t take it anymore pretty boy? Don’t want me to yell and can’t take me fucking your ass this good? I guess I've been giving you too much credit, Prewett.”
Leander whined. Partially from the brunette's words and partially from the directed thrust of Sebastian’s hips into his prostate. His cock twitched and Sebastian hummed, fucking him harder. “That’s it, cum from my cock fucking this tight ass Prewett.”
Leander moaned weakly. “Sh-shut up, Sallow.” Sebastian chuckled, slamming his hips into him harder.
Leander tightened, biting into his hand and moaning as he spasmed around Sebastian. “Ah! I’m gonna cum! Fuck!”
Leander crumpled against the sinks, cock twitching as he came, making a mess of the floor below them. Sebastian chuckled, pulling out of him and admiring the mess he’d made of Leander.
Leander looked back, trying to compose himself as he took in the view of Sebastian moving to a nearby sink to wash himself off. “W-what are you doing? You didn’t…”
Sebastian chuckled. “No. I didn’t. That’s okay. Just means you owe me for later. Go clean yourself up and next time…” Sebastian took a step closer. “Don’t wear your robe while we duel, Prewett.”
Leander pulled his pants up, leaning against the sinks as Sebastian’s boots echoed their way out of the bathroom. “What the fuck…”
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Text
Absolution
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Azriel x Reader(N)
Summary: Two lovers separated out of necessity finally reunite, only for a brief tryst.
A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. It's an extended universe for a plot I was working with details tbd but doesn't involve much plot here. So it should be an easy read. This is my first ever Tumblr publish and it's scary!! So be kind. Hope you enjoy!
Word count: ~4.5k
Warning: NSFW, 18+ SMUT, f!receiving, m!receiving(barely), sappy start+spicy middle+angsty end (i guess), voice kink, p in v. Mentions of OC other than reader[not enough editing/proofreading/formatting]
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Azriel stepped into the room desperately holding on to the moment, afraid Crone Mother would change her mind. N sat on the balcony—like every evening, on the floor, her legs crossed, her hands clasped in her lap. The curtains came alive with the touch of a gentle breeze to guard her from him. Her sheer dress melded with her body under the radiance of the fading sun, her skin aglow as if made of stars and gold. Summer flowers adorned her hair, tucked into the braid that unravelled after the day’s practices.
His shadows peeked over his shoulders and swarmed his hands buzzing with excitement. With each silent step, he prayed he didn’t break her trance. He settled before her—bringing his knees to his chest, he rested his elbows on them, and his wings tucked tight to his body.
The hue of the setting sun made everything heavenly about her—soft, ethereal. Wisps of hair teasing her cheeks, the knowing smile on her lips, the slight flutter of her eyelids under his stare. A sigh escaped Azriel’s lips. It was a worthless attempt to hide his presence from her, the one who held the sight. 
Azriel wasn’t a fool to waste the mercy bestowed upon him after months of longing to be close to his beloved. He stretched on the floor, his head finding its rightful place in her lap, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her scent and warmth made their bond burn brighter and he sighed in contentment.
After long minutes, N rested her palm on his head. Her fingers carded through his hair, and her nails scratched his scalp the way he liked. A thumb teased the shell of his ear and his wings responded with a sudden tremor.
Azriel smiled. He buried his face into her thigh. Air shifted around them as her body answered to his touches and breaths. Despite the need clawing in his chest, he chose to wait a few minutes, to savour the comfort of her simple touch.
N broke the silence. ‘How was your day?’ Her voice was as sweet as ever.
‘Long. Excruciatingly long,’ sighed Azriel. ‘I started with your friends from the armoury today. Until your mother sent me to the gardens.’ He remembered the smile on the older woman’s face when she took him away from the others. A secretive, mischievous one. ‘She enjoys testing me a bit much. She made me tend to your roses.’
N laughed, the sound sending a shiver through him. ‘That must have been a vision. Maybe she’s exacting revenge for how you treated her back home.’
Azriel’s heart thudded in his chest. Home. No matter what Crone Mother said, N had one home. It was with him, in Night Court. ‘I think she’s forgotten all that. She’s more interested in stealing you from me.’ His arms tightened around her and his shadows whirled around them emphasising their master’s possessiveness, ‘But I don’t mind. As long as she lets me be with you for a while.’ His lips twitched. ‘Did you know everyone here addresses me as your mate?’
Another laugh broke through her lips, ‘They're not wrong.’
‘No, they are not.’ Azriel finally looked up. Her eyes were already on his face. ‘I’ve been called many names over centuries. Shadowsinger. Spymaster. But this one,’ he leaned up to her face, ‘I like the most. To be known as yours before they even know my name.’ He got to his knees and trailed a knuckle along her jaw. ‘I’d like that for the rest of my life.’ Their bond strummed a tune so loud that rendered him senseless. ‘I want to have a life with you. A home, a family. Anything you want, any way you want. As long as you want that too.’
‘You mean that.’ N stated as if she needed to reassure herself. She stared at him with a mask of impassivity on her face that almost rivalled his own as a spy. Then, she smiled. ‘But I’ll have you know there will be more tests from Crone Mother.’
'I’ll suffer anything for you,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘So that’s a yes?’ N nodded before her eyes sparkled with mirth. ‘What is it?’ His senses warned him, his shadows stood alert on his shoulders. 
‘Well, technically, we’re married.’
Silence fell between them. Azriel’s fingers left her skin.
‘What?’
N shrugged. ‘Do you remember the first time we duelled?’ Her voice was steady but her hesitance broke through at the sight of the male who sat frozen in front of her. ‘You made me bleed. You proved you were my equal. And, it all happened after the bond snapped for you.’
Azriel remembered that day. He had wanted to impress her. It was the day he felt the warmth of her breath on him for the first time. For days and nights to come, he relived those moments until his skin prickled with heat.
N’s unsure laughter died soon when he didn’t even blink. His shadows retreated. His end of their bond quietened, alarming her. 
Finally, he said, ‘All this time you were my wife?’
Her breath stuck to her throat. ‘According to our custom, yes.’
‘And you kept that a secret.’ His wings flared behind him to their full glory and his eyes narrowed. ‘What did we discuss about your secrets?’
N leaned back, ‘Was I supposed to tell you all this when I had your blade to your throat? I’m not sure you’d have been open to that conversation.’ Her voice reeked of confidence but Azriel saw the facade waning in her darkening eyes.
Memories flitted through his mind—visions of her from the instant he laid his eyes on her to the present. Every misfortune they endured, every second they spent in love, every. . . 
He stalked her on his knees, his hands on either side of her. He hissed, ‘You slept with those males after that.’ A sound escaped his throat, a rumble deep from his chest. ‘My wife slept with other males to spite me.’ 
N stared at his lips and swallowed thickly. She hurried back, her hands slipping on the smooth marble under her. 'Azriel,' she whined wincing at the way her body welcomed her impending doom.
Azriel inhaled sharply. ’You like that? When I call you my wife?’ He chuckled darkly. His lips whispered against hers, ‘Of all the things you kept from me, this is the worst. You’re not getting out of this easy this time.’
N pleaded with her eyes. Her breaths shuddered. ‘They are watching.’
‘Then they’ll know my actions are justified.’
Azriel dove for his kill but before his hands grasped her, she faded away. Her airy laughter echoed in his ears. She stood in the middle of the room—her hands gently clutching her skirt to free her feet, her braid coming undone over her shoulder, teeth sinking into her plump lip—a vision of devilry and seduction.
His eyes flashed up to hers with a glint. His shadows who wanted vengeance of their own circled his shoulders and arms with a frenzy. N was in trouble and she knew it. She turned to run only to be met with his hard chest emerging from a dark mist.
‘Did you really think you could get away?’ He caressed her cheek, ‘There’s no escape from me. You should know that by now.’
N slid her arms around his neck. ‘Back then, we barely knew each other. I didn’t want to scare you.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’ She sent every ounce of sincerity in her being through their bond, still he kept his end cloaked.
Azriel pulled his arms away. Dark amusement shone in his eyes. ‘As if a silly apology is going to save you.’
N smoothed her palms over his chest. ‘I know.’ Her lips brushed against his skin, littering his face with soft pecks. ‘I know,’ she kissed the corner of his lips, moving closer and closer to the centre as she breathed the words, ‘I’ll make it up to you. For every secret.’
Even as N pressed her body into his, Azriel stood unmoved with a cruel smirk on his lips and his hands by his side. Her fingers wandered over his sculpted torso before unbuttoning his shirt. The shadows on his shoulders swayed, watching, waiting. The regal female who made others quiver with fear grovelled for his forgiveness, and his wretched heart grew giddy with power and pride.
Azriel itched to grab her waist and bite her lips until she bled for him again. A true victory in this duel. He closed his eyes in a wasted effort to tame his thoughts. At the first touch of her cool fingers on his bare chest, he almost gave in. 
His eyes snapped open the moment N pulled her lips away. She dropped to her knees, her fingers dancing on his hips. Pressing a kiss below his navel, she inched her hands between his legs and fondled him with the heel of her palms. The warmth from her hands seeped through the cotton, which he was forced to wear upon their arrival, promising him the pleasure that awaited him.
In all the years with her, Azriel treated her lips as a relic–sacred and holy–a crown jewel in the trove that was her body. Something to be guarded, treasured, worshipped. He never had to take her mouth the way she offered to him to reach for the stars.
N smiled sweetly. The goddess who witnessed every vice and virtue under the sky knelt before him with love in her heart and devotion in her eyes.
Enchanted, Azriel watched her. His lips parted with a shaky breath. Their bond blazed with emotions he couldn’t name. At that moment, he knew there had never been nor ever will be a male more blessed than he was.
His scarred hand cradled her cheek tinged with a soft blush. She leaned in, closing her eyes, trapping his hand between her shoulder and face. She sighed. She kissed his wrist, his palm, his fingers. 
Azriel couldn’t decide which was in more pain—his heart or his cock. Both, mere toys in her hands. 
N grazed her lips against his clothed hardness and Azriel closed his eyes. His head fell back. A gasp escaped deep from his chest when her tongue soaked him through the fabric. He couldn't remember why he wanted to punish his sweet mate. He was close to breaking already and all she did was tease.
A sharp scrape of her teeth along his length had him bury his hand in her hair softer than the flowers that tumbled down her breast. He hissed in warning as his eyes held hers in a glare. 
‘I want you to look at me,’ she smiled. That damned smile that masked her every cruelty.
Too much time had passed since they felt each other’s skin. Months, almost a year of not seeing each other, not holding each other. And there she was ready to worship him with her entire being if only for a night until their time ran out. Every move of hers had his heart wring in pain, the desire through the bond overwhelming and consuming his soul.
His shadows swooped down and pulled her to him. Azriel crashed his lips onto hers before her feet rested on the ground and stole every little breath from her chest. His shadows brought them to her bed, delicate and soft fit for a queen, like her. 
He pried the cord that held her dress together below her breasts. His lips ventured south leaving a trail of red on her neck and chest while N rewarded him with her moans. Shadows, ever obedient, parted her dress to make way for their master’s hand to relish the smoothness of her skin. He caressed every inch of her body with his marred hands except where she ached for him the most. She pleaded and moaned, guiding his hand between her legs. 
‘You shouldn’t have lied to me,’ he growled, letting his canines scratch her jaw. ‘You know how I feel about secrets, don’t you?’ A sob left her lips as the back of his fingers teased her entrance with the barest of touch. ‘Is this what you call making up? Crying and moaning until your husband fucks you?’
N froze. Her eyes stared into his with unspoken emotion that radiated clearly in their bond instead. ‘Azriel, please.’ His hand came down hard between her legs. She arched her back beautifully for him as a silent gasp escaped her lips.
Azriel memorised every pull of her muscles. ‘You should’ve known better.’ He slipped his fingers in and out, barely past her entrance, coaxing moans out of her. Her wetness had his mouth water. He undid his pants enough to ease himself out and thrusted into her in a single move.
They were perfect for each other—masochists at heart, denying themselves release until the day for their reunion drew closer and closer. N reached a hand out and clawed at his chest. Her eyes widened and soon glazed with pleasure. Her lungs ached for air. Her body begged to escape the feral male whose only intention was to devour her body and soul. Yet, she wrapped her legs around him.
Azriel waited panting, his heart losing its rhythm, shirt clinging to his back. N tugged him closer with her heels on his ass. He growled, baring his teeth. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her to his chest. Her eyes fixated where his hips snapped against hers, where they were finally a whole. Each of her whimpers nudged him to quicken his pace.
He felt his release closing in. ‘Is this what you want?’ She looked up, mewling for him, her eyes burning with tears. Too soon. He pulled out of her weeping cunt and dove in with his tongue.
N cried out his name, sweeter than any melody she had ever sung for him. Her body slumped on the bed. She sought for leverage, her hands fisting the pillows. As she felt her fingers grasping at reality, shadows weaved around her wrist and pinned them above her head.
Azriel watched his mate’s body collapse and crash at his ministrations. He dug his fingers into her thighs tearing them open. Her bright eyes pinched shut before she met his crazed ones. With her chest glistening with sweat, her neck reddening, and her teeth sinking into her wet, swollen lips, she came.
Watching her body shiver with every lick of the evening breeze, Azriel rid himself of his clothes. He leaned down to kiss her lips, but she stared dazed. He laughed and nipped at the insides of her bicep, clearing the fog in her mind. Her arms flushed red as blood rushed back. Her fingers twitched and his shadows trickled along them. She came alive with whines when he slipped his fingers inside her.
Her desire came in waves through the bond. A groan rose from his chest, a guttural rumble. Even after his transgressions, she only wanted more, more of him. N clenched around his fingers at the sound. Azriel chuckled darkly into her ear. N curled into herself and clenched again. A renewed glint came to his eyes as he stared into hers. 
‘She likes my voice, does she now? I always wondered. . .’ He lowered himself between her legs again, his second haven, the first being her embrace. A series of soft ‘please’ escaped her but the lust in her eyes told a different story, the bond sang a different tune. And he chose to heed its calling.
He wrapped a hand around her thigh and pushed the other aside with his shoulder. He didn’t want to miss this one. It was no new knowledge. He always had his suspicions, years of practice in observing the unobserved. But to finally see it with his own eyes, he was desperate to witness it. He wanted it to be true, he prayed for it to be true. 
The room was filled with nothing but N’s silent pleas. Her wetness glistened in the last lights of dusk promising him an elixir crafted just for him. A fresh wave of arousal rolled over her body. Azriel hummed, breathing in the scent.
‘So pretty,’ he exhaled. His eyes took in every flutter that invited him back. ‘You like being praised, don’t you?’ N moaned fighting against the shadows that held her hostage. Azriel pulled her close by her hip and inhaled—loud and deep—his nose almost touching her. 
‘Always wet for me, eager for me.’ His voice softened, his taunts dying as if his anger was meant for N and not her cunt, ‘I missed you so much. I can tell you missed me too,’ he pressed his lips to her thigh, his eyes unwavering, ‘by the way you wrapped around me, by the way you swallowed me.’ His cock throbbed at his own words. 
He rasped, ‘Look at you, teasing me. Do you want a kiss?’ He flattened a hand on her abdomen, his fingers stroking deliberate patterns. ‘My tongue, my fingers? Hmm?’ Her hip jerked up for more and he pressed a kiss to the arch above her clit.
'Azriel, please. I want more.'
‘So wanton, so needy.’ A wisp of shadow licked her entrance once and N closed her eyes. Her hips moved in tandem as if she could materialise what she needed out of thin air. ‘So beautiful.’ Azriel grazed a thumb along the junction where her leg met her hip. N fell back with a groan.
‘You want me, don’t you? You never lie to me,’ another kiss to her thigh, ‘You can’t lie. Unlike N,’ his eyes finally caught her desperate ones. For a moment, he almost felt tyrannical to let the wicked smile pull at his lips. N threw her head back and circled her hips again.
‘That’s it, pretty. Show me how you’d fuck me. Show me how beautiful you are.’ His tongue trailed a line alongside his thumb, ‘Come for me.’
Her legs went taut around his shoulders. Her toes dug into his back next to where his wing emerged from. When her stomach sank in, Azriel shoved two fingers inside and held it there as she unravelled with a choked moan. 
Pure, perverse pride filled his chest as his mate bucked and thrashed at the impact. Azriel was sick—sick at heart, sick in his desires. He never denied it. But it hardly felt a sickness with N trembling with his fingers inside.
Having lived through the horrors he did and committed unspeakable sins over his lifetime, Azriel knew there was no absolution for him. Nor that he cared. He already had his heaven, right there, in front of him, basking in the afterglow of pure pleasure.
He nuzzled his nose into her thigh to steal a little more warmth from her exhausted body. He brushed his cheek against her, closing his eyes, savouring the moment before his primal need destroyed the only person he loved the most. He hummed satisfied, pressing the lightest of kisses to her skin, his pathetic attempt to atone for the wicked he unleashed upon her. His heart should cower in shame and guilt, yet it swelled with love and hunger.
His name, whispered once, tore his attention from his perverted thoughts. He never cared for what he was called. But in her sweet voice, a sacred chant uttered in the confines of their chamber, he liked no word more than his own name. His shadows answered her call, smoothed over her sweat-covered body apologising for their master’s sadism, burning her skin with their delicate coolness. Some mercy, for they were no better than him.
Azriel brushed a thumb along her cheek gathering her tears away, a tender kiss placed in their stead. He smiled like a gentle lover. He parted her lips with his fingers soaked in her essence and slid them past her teeth.
With hooded eyes, N looked up at the male who sought the remnants of her soul clinging to her body and sucked on the tips. Her tongue rivalled the wetness between her legs. She was a true seductress.
Azriel lapped at his fingers and the lips sheathing them alike, tasting her whole at once, embracing the insanity he fought to stave off for so long. Even when he slipped his fingers out of her mouth, even when he pressed his body onto hers, even when he lined himself to her welcoming heat, he didn’t break the kiss like her lips were his only tether to reality.
N stilled beneath him. Another tear slipped from the corner of her beautiful eyes. Azriel was cruel, but he was capable of loving his mate right. He wrapped a hand around her shoulder and smoothed a palm over her hip. He inched in slowly into her pulsing cunt, ‘Give me one more, love. Just one. For me?’ 
His mate, ever merciful, nodded. The adoration that flowed through the golden string between their hearts reflected in her eyes. ‘Please,’ she said breathlessly, ‘please, Azriel. I want to touch you.’
The one whose dangerous hands slit throats of the most feral of males and females with grace asked to touch him so sweetly. How could he deny anything to her?
His shadows didn’t wait for his instructions. They released her arms and slid over to the skin their master left unattended, staking their claim on her body. Azriel reined them back only to lose control again. She made him jealous of his own shadows, ones meant to serve him, ones who forgot their place around her.
A long sigh pulled his focus back to her. Too exhausted to hold him like she always did, N ran her hands along his sides. ‘I missed you.’
‘I missed you too.’ Azriel lifted her thigh higher and wrapped it around his waist ripping a whine from her throat. He did miss her. He missed everything about her. Her raw devotion to him, her pure heart, her unconditional love.
As he moved deeper and deeper still, he felt it. The echo of a song he knew too well, one of love and longing that kept them connected through the times of separation. Beyond the familiarity of its thrum, he recognised something else.
Like catching a flicker of light after being lost in the dark for long. Like the first time he gained control of the darkness he was born with. Like the first time he tasted his freedom. In her arms, everything made sense. His breaths strained.
Tears flowed freely from her eyes. ‘I missed you,’ There was a tremor in her voice. Azriel soothed her with his own declarations but she shook her head, ‘Don’t make me leave you again. Please, I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t, not without you.’
Azriel always believed he loved her more than she could love him in her lifetime. His petty display of jealousy and temper, a proof of his love. What an arrogant fool. His heart ached for failing to truly see his beloved’s feelings for him, how deep it ran in her veins, how it destroyed her while it breathed life into him.
He pulled her close, enveloping her in his comfort, and his wings draped around them.
‘Promise me, Azriel.’ She closed her eyes, ‘Please.’
‘I’m here now,’ he caressed her cheek. He left kisses on her forehead, eyes, cheeks, and finally on her lips. ‘I’m here. I’m with you, love. I’m here.’ And at those words, N let go one last time leading him to his release.
Azriel left his shaking mate in the bed with a kiss when he came back to his senses to draw a bath. He stood by the door of her bathroom and watched his shadows tickle the skin below her ear. A light chuckle escaped her lips as more chased her hand. It was a sight he was used to and missed dearly.
N smiled at him as he carried her in his arms. Her body shivered at the first touch as Azriel lowered her into the tub. She tugged at his wrist, and he joined in. She leaned her back into his chest and closed her eyes. The water washed her exhaustion away while his hands massaged her tender flesh. Her eyes struggled to stay open and she sank deeper against him. As he dried her tenderly after, she watched him with an easy smile.
Azriel carried her out to the bedroom and paused. Fresh sheets lined her bed. Sweet fragrance of jasmine lingered in the air. Lit candles stood on windows and her desk. Moonlight streamed past the drawn curtains. His shadows failed to notice, too lost in her as he was.
‘I told you they were watching,’ N said, her voice quiet and tired. 
He eased her into the bed and pulled a blanket over her legs. He traced the marks of red on her stomach and between her breasts, marring her pristine skin—still a masterpiece—complete, perfect. ‘Do you think they’ll let me near you again after seeing what I’ve done?’ He couldn’t stop the smile that cruelly tugged at his mouth.
N groaned, throwing a hand over her eyes. ‘I’m pretty sure Mother Aarzu is already dissecting how you wrecked me for her next seduction lesson.’ 
‘Well then,’ Azriel laid beside her and pulled her to his chest, ‘I’m willing to contribute more to these lessons. They sound very necessary.’
She glared from behind her hand. ‘Mock all you want but your brothers are worse. I bet Rhysand was listening to your thoughts the whole time. And they are already planning on ways to taunt you.’
Azriel lifted a brow. He opened his mouth to defend his ability to guard his thoughts when his brother’s laughter echoed in his mind. ‘Your shields are pathetic when she’s around. They went down the moment her lips were on you.’ N flinched in his arms and he knew his brother invaded her mind as well for his next words, ‘Thanks for the show. Quite an. . .inspiration.’
N scoffed, ‘I don’t know why we do it behind closed doors.’ Her words had his mind conjure ideas already. A frown appeared between her brows. She looked at him sharply when she felt a hardness pressing into her hip, ‘We’re not doing that.’
Azriel laughed aloud. Something he hadn’t done in a while after he sent his mate away. ‘Anything my wife wants,’ he teased. He cradled her face against his chest and kissed her eye. ‘Anything you want.’
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gabessquishytum · 8 months
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Okay someone somewhere said ballet dancer hob and rewrote my brain chemistry.
So. Ballet director dream was once the absolute best in the world but he had a violent feud with a cold and demanding director named Burgess. During one practice Burgess was yelling and screaming at Dream for being useless (he hoped by hiring Dream, his legendary sister Death would come dance for the London ballet too. It didn’t work and he is bitter about it now). And it turns into a fight and Burgess hits Dream in the knee with his cane, injuring it so badly it ruins his career. (His mistake. In revenge, Dream launches a hostile takeover and ousts the asshole.)
Now Dream is the cold and demanding director of the London ballet. And for ten years (time skip because of silver fox dream supremacy) he builds himself up into an absolute legend. Gault is the prime ballerina because I say so. The Corinthian took over Dream’s role as the other star for a while but eventually he wouldn’t take direction and is also sort of a scummy person so they have a massive falling out and he quits.
Without the Corinthian, people say Dream’s shows have lost their spark. He gets colder and more difficult and demanding as a result. Everyone is on the brink of quitting.
Death is now a director too and she promises Dream that she knows the perfect replacement who will breathe new life into his company.
And she sends him Hob.
Hob is the exact opposite of Dream. He went to school on scholarship. He never even saw a ballet until he was 16. He started late but he’s making up for it with the sheer joy he brings to his dancing. He fucking loves it. There’s something loose and free in his dancing that’s so opposite from Dream’s typical technically perfect but brutally emotional style.
Dream bets Death that Hob will quit within a month. Hob is always showing up smiling and joking around and distracting others. Dream is hard on him as he is hard on everyone. And yet. Hob doesn’t quit.
There’s something about the way he throws himself into the dance that is unshakeable.
Dream can’t help but wonder when he lost that kind of joy. He is very quickly captivated by him. It is always this way. Dream fell for Calliope’s dancing before they ever spoke, those many years ago.
One night, Dream catches Hob dancing late on the stage when everyone else has left, practicing a section Dream criticized him harshly for. It is hard not to overcorrect and be too harsh on Hob. Dream knows eventually it will drive Hob away. So for now he stays in the shadows and watches, his heart pounding against his ribs.
When he’s done, Hob looks right at Dream and asks if that was any better.
Dream wasn’t aware Hob had known he was being watched, but he climbs up onto the stage with him. He tells Hob he is improving. But Dream has extremely high standards and it takes more than passion to survive in this world.
Hob just smiles at him and starts his cool down stretches. “I don’t know. I think you could use a little passion.” He‘s flushed and Dream…can’t quite look away.
“I want to impress you. I want to improve,” Hob tells him. “I’ll do whatever you ask.”
Dream carefully doesn’t examine his words closely. Hob…can’t be imagining what Dream is. He doesn’t know what things Dream might ask for.
“I am not known for my kindness,” Dream says stiffly. “More experienced dancers than you have quit rather than work for me.”
Hob rises to his feet. “You can’t scare me off. I want this,” he insists. “I want to be here.”
Dream is reluctantly impressed. But he is also picturing Hob on his knees in Dream’s silk sheets and he doesn’t know how to stop. “I can be…punishing,” he warns, unwisely worded.
Hob is beautiful and determined in the stage lights. “Punish me,” he dares him.
Oh I LOVE a ballet au!! There’s so much drama here, I love it. Love the idea of dancer Hob, imagine the Billy Elliot vibes!!! Or maybe he doesn’t start dancing until he’s a teenager. Either way he’s the most lively, exciting dancer of his generation and he has so much JOY when it comes to ballet. He’s rough and uncouth at times but the moment he starts dancing he just becomes the most beautiful thing in the room. Death has nurtured him and given him a wonderful grasp of technique, but she knows that in order to become the greatest dancer he can be, Hob needs to go to Dream.
The thing about Hob is, he loves ballet. Loves it in a way that simply can’t be faked. And Dream’s heart clenches each time he sees Hob because he used to be like that! He used to love ballet more than anything in the world. Where has that love gone, and when did he get so angry and cold? It’s not something that Dream wants to dwell on, but watching Hob makes him feel things he hasn’t felt in a decade.
Watching Hob also makes him horny, but that's another thing that he's not ready to unpack.
Imagine Hob practicing at the barre. Repeating over and over, the same exercises, the same positions that Dream has drilled into him. He sees Dream watching him in the mirror and his eyes just light up! He works even harder, enjoying the attention, enjoying the fact that he KNOWS that Dream is going to find something to pick up on.
Imagine Dream stalking up to Hob and just pouncing. Pressing him against the mirror and kissing him desperately. Hob’s fingers stroke Dream’s silver streaked temples and his mouth moves just as beautifully as his body does when he's dancing.
And when Dream pulls back he's like "your tendu is sloppy, do it again." And Hob can't help but grin <3
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