#so i guess part of the effect would come from you using electricity somewhere where you don't pay the

[spruceoutoffive]

when you receive tips on how to save energy and one of them legit is sharing a bed with someone

#new fic trope? #tho then again huddling for warmth is a classic #i mean the tip actually tells you to spend the night at friend's place and share a bed #so i guess part of the effect would come from you using electricity somewhere where you don't pay the #bill

[skyeet-the-writer]

The Love Among Us

Chapter 1-- I’d Never Snitch On Daddy

so i haven’t seen many corpse husband x reader stories on here, so i decided to upload one myself. i’ve been watching jacksepticeye’s among us videos and when i heard corpse talk for the first time, i was like, “hol up” and now i’ve been obsessed with him. also, go stream his music on spotify, it’s amazing. enjoy! x. 

 corpse husband x female!reader

summary: while playing among us, y/n watches corpse kill felix in o2. when his body is reported, however, she doesn’t tell who killed him. 

 word count: ~3.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of death (not real death), mentions of murder (not real murder)

EDIT: before i wrote this and after i published it, i did not know that corpse did not like to be referred to as “daddy”. had i known this, i would have not even thought of posting this. and since i know now, i won’t refer to him as such in the future. thank you. (10/19/2020)

EDIT 2: this is the first part to my corpse x reader series. i will be adding chapters as we go!

next>

4 rounds before the incident

“I was in coms with PJ!” Sean exclaims. 

“He is doing the liar voice!” Felix shouts with a laugh. 

“I’m not,” Sean tries to say, but everyone talks over him and the voting time ends. Everyone left alive, though it was only four people, had all voted for him and he yells at them as he gets ejected. 

stinky was not the imposter

2 imposters remain

The round ends and everyone unmutes themselves. 

“Lizzie, you saw Felix kill me and you did nothing!” Roomie yells as soon as the round ends and the imposters are revealed. 

“Yeah, because I was the other imposter.”

“Oh. Okay, well that makes sense.”

Everyone laughs and Ken starts the round again. 

“Wait, can I invite y/n to play? She’s doing her twenty-four-hour stream and she just finished playing Monopoly with Mark, Bob, and Wade,” says Lizzie, looking down at her phone as they all appear back in the waiting room. 

“Yes,” Corpse blurts out and there are a few laughs and chuckles. 

“You were quick to answer, Corpse,” Sean teases. 

“Shut up,” Corpse mumbles and there are even more laughs. 

Lizzie smiles and taps into her phone. “I’m gonna invite her.”

~

“I can’t believe that you actually made that deal, y/n,” Wade is telling you after ending the second round of Monopoly that you’ve played with them. 

You smile and cross your legs on your chair. “Look, I was going bankrupt and it seemed good at the time. Besides, Mark was going to win anyway, he owned half of the board.” Your phone buzzes beside you on your desk and you pick it up. “Lizzie texted me.” There’s a sound effect that plays in your headset and you look up at your screen and smile. “Thanks to _lorieplays _for donating a hundred dollars, that means a lot. Thank you so much.”

“Do you want to play another round?” Marks asks. 

You shake your head, reading the text from your friend in England. “No, I don’t want to lose to you again.” You laugh. “Nah, Lizzie wants me to play Among Us with her and a few others. It was fun playing with you guys.”

“It was even though you took all of my money,” Bob snaps. 

You laugh. “Yeah, yeah. See you guys later.”

“Bye,” says Mark.

“See y--” Wade begins but you cut him off when you disconnect from the call. 

“Oops.” You put a hand over your mouth and laugh. “Sorry, Wade. Okay.” You straighten up and glance over everything, making sure it’s all working properly. “I have to pee and I think my roommate ordered pizza, so we’ll be back after this short break. Enjoy this live feed of my pet rats.” You giggle and switch the stream over to a view of your two rats in their cage where you have a camera set up. You take your headset off and head out of your recording room. 

Every two months, you have a twenty-four-hour livestream where you play games with your friends from all around the world. Despite being only twenty-five, your Youtube channel had grown exponentially in the past three years and you’ve had the chance to meet lots of other Youtubers like Markiplier, PewDiePie, and your close friend, LDShadowLady. 

Currently, you’re on hour twenty of twenty-four and you’re beginning to feel the effects of not sleeping for a whole day. You had been drinking coffee and energy drinks for the past four hours and that seemed to perk you up for two hours max. But your roommate had ordered pizza and that would hopefully wake you up. 

After going to the bathroom and grabbing an entire box of pizza, you return to your recording room and sit down. You put your headset back on and eat a slice of pizza before switching the views back to you. “And we’re back. I hope you guys enjoyed my rats because I don’t. They keep me up at night.”

You read a comment while loading up Among Us and laugh. “No, they’re not dead. They’re sleeping. They do that a lot when they’re not fighting.” 

When you finally get into the game and entire the code, you spawn in. You also quickly join the Discord chat and wince when nearly ten voices hit you at once. 

“y/n!” exclaims Lizzie and the other voices die down for a moment before rising to greet you. 

You wince again but laugh. “Jesus, you guys are loud. Hey, Lizzie.” You move your character to the customize tab and go to try and switch your color. But then you frown and realize that you’re stuck with being dark blue. “Damn, I wanted to be white.”

“Do you want to switch?” Corpse asks. 

Your eyes widen you your stomach flips. You hadn’t noticed Corpse was in this game. Immediately, your chat became flooded with keyboard smashing and lots of “omg my shipp” and “y/n rlly said ‘anna oop-’” 

“Uh, yeah, if you don’t mind,” you manage to stutter out and take a bite of pizza as Corpse’s player comes over and the white option becomes available. You select it and also select the goggles in the hats menu. 

“How’s your stream going?” asks Sean. 

You shrug. “Pretty good. I’m super tired, though. I literally almost fell asleep while playing Monopoly with Mark, Wade, and Bob.”

“You went to college, right?” You’re pretty sure that’s Roomie. 

“Yep,” you affirm with a nod even though they can’t see you. “You’d think that those all-nighters writing papers and studying for finals would make me able to do this.”

There’s a laugh in the group and the round starts.

3 rounds before the incident

You scratch your eyebrow and sigh in relief when you’re the crewmate. You mute yourself and slide up in your chair. 

“I like being the crewmate,” you say, heading towards admin as a habit. “It’s a lot less stressful than being imposter.”

After doing your tasks in admin and fueling the engines, you stumble across a dead body in the lower engine and a vent closing. 

“Oh,” you say, and press the report button. You unmute yourself and begin with, “So I saw a vent close but I didn’t see who went in.”

“Who died?” asks Lizzie. 

“Felix,” says Sean. 

You smirk. “It’s always yellow that dies first.”

“Where was the body?” Ken asks. 

“Lower engine,” you reply. 

“I was in medbay with Corpse doing the scan so it wasn’t him,” PJ says and Corpse makes a noise of confirmation. 

This makes your cheeks heat up and you smack a hand over your mouth. Your chat explodes again but you decide to ignore it. 

“And I was doing wires in cafeteria,” Lizzie says. 

“Sean, where were you?” 

“I was in reactor doing the simon says thing,” he answers. 

You sigh. “I hate that one. What about you, Ken?”

“I was with Roomie in electrical doing the power thing. You know, the one where you have to divert it somewhere else.”

“So do we skip then?” asks Lizzie. 

“No one is super sus, so I’m going to skip,” you answer. 

When no one is ejected, you mute yourself again. “I dunno why, but Sean seems pretty sus. Because I didn’t see him on the way down from upper engine. But I guess he could have gotten there in time.” You shrug and run over to the trash chute in the cafeteria. “RIP to Felix, though.”

After doing the trash there, you head down to storage, running into Corpse doing the wires in there. You wait there to clear him and once you do, you run a few circles around him to get his attention and he follows you over to the trash in storage and watches you do that. After that, the two of you head over to electric together and do wires there. 

Suddenly, there’s a body reported and you unmute yourself. 

“Sean just killed Lizzie in front of me!” exclaims PJ. 

“PJ killed Lizzie,” Sean retorts, flipping the blame. “I watched it, he didn’t realize I was there and murdered her.”

“I watched PJ do the scan in medbay, he’s cleared,” Corpse says and you find yourself smiling for no reason. “Sean, you killed Lizzie.”

“I knew he was sus,” you say, grabbing another piece of pizza. You look at the box and your eyes widen. Had you really already eaten half of it?

“Wait wait, how am I sus?” Sean asks. 

You take a moment to swallow. “Because when I was doing fuel earlier, I was running down from upper engine and didn’t see you in reactor. Sure, maybe you could have gotten there earlier, but it was super weird.” 

The discussion time ends and PJ immediately goes to vote for Sean as well as you, Corpse, and everyone else still alive. Sean ends up getting ejected. 

stinky was an imposter 

1 imposter remains

“You’re such a detective, y/n,” Sean says when he gets ejected. 

You laugh. “I just play this game too much.” You then mute yourself and smile. “I am a genius.” 

You end up finishing your tasks quickly after that and then stand in the cafeteria and eat another piece of pizza and read some of the chat. 

“’ What am I going to do after this?’ I don’t know. I might play some Minecraft. Should I have a poll on Twitter? I’m stuck between public Among Us games, Minecraft, and taking random quizzes on Buzzfeed.” You smile and hear another sound effect and something pops up on the screen. “Thank you to coochie man for donating a hundred dollars, that means a lot.” You laugh at their name. “I love your name, by the way.” 

There’s some rattling in the cage behind you and you turn around to see one of your rats drinking water. You turn back to the chat and read another comment. “’ Do you have a crush on Corpse?’” You blush and smile, biting your lip. “I mean, his voice is hot. I’ve never met him since he lives in San Diego and I live in h/t, but yeah, I guess I do. I’ve been listening to his music for the past few days and it’s really good, you guys should go check it out.”

You look up and unmute yourself when a body is reported. “Who died?” you ask. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Are you already done with your tasks, y/n?” Corpse asks. 

God, even the way he says your name is making you blush. “Yeah, I get them done quick.”

“She does that,” says Lizzie, “She always gets her tasks done quick.”

“Ken is dead by the way,” says Roomie and your snort, smacking a hand over your mouth. “I found him in the hallway by navigation. Where was everyone else?”

“I was in cafeteria doing nothing,” you say, leaning back in your chair and spinning around just a little. “I think I saw PJ downloading while I was in there, but I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yeah, I was downloading,” says Ken. 

After more discussion, Corpse points out that Jaiden had been following him and it looked like she had been faking tasks. 

“No I haven’t,” she says. 

“That sounds like something the imposter would say,” you hum with a smirk. “That’s pretty sus, Jaiden.”

Everyone else agrees and you all end up voting Jaiden out. 

jaiden was the imposter

0 imposters remain

You cheer as the round ends and a blue victory screen pops up for the crewmates. “Good game, guys,” you say and play again, waiting for the host. 

~

1 round before the incident 

“Oh my god, I’m imposter again?” you groan and sigh when you spawn back in. “I was just imposter, I don’t want to be it again. I’m so bad at it,”

After another short round of you and Felix losing to the crewmates, you all agreed to play two more rounds before Sean had to leave. So you move your character to admin where PJ is and fake the card swipe before moving over to the admin security thing where you could see who was around where. Luckily, no one appeared to be near admin, so you quickly kill PJ and escape through the vent and come out through medbay. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you whisper over and over, running down to storage. “That was clean.” You fake getting fuel and go back up to the upper engine. 

When PJ’s body is reported, you see that your fellow imposter, Sean, had reported it. You stay silent for most of the round and only say that you were in the fuel area when it was reported. 

“Yeah, I saw her run past electrical earlier,” Corpse says. You blush and glance at your exploding chat and shake your head. 

After everyone skips the round, you mute yourself once more and head towards navigation. “I hate this.” You drag the last syllable and watch Lizzie enter the room. You wait a moment before walking towards her and killing her, jumping into one of the vents. You let out a sigh and flex your fingers. “I’m so stressed.” You exit out of the vent into shields and your heart stops when you see someone else in there but you realize that it’s the other imposter, Sean, and you relax. 

You run past him and go to the trash compartments and pretend to unload those. And that’s how the rest of the round goes. You kill someone, someone reports it and you vote someone off. Eventually, you and Sean do a double kill and end up winning the round.

You unmute yourself. 

“Let’s go!” Sean exclaims and you smile. 

“I can’t believe you killed me, y/n!” shouts Lizzie. “I thought we were friends.”

You laugh. “There are no friends in this game. I’m not loyal to anyone in this game. You could be my best friend and I would fucking murder you.”

“That’s cold,” says Roomie as everyone else spawns back in. 

“Yeah,” you nod. 

“Wait, PJ disconnected,” says Sean, and you all end up waiting for him to rejoin. 

In that time, you look at your chat and say, “Hey, do you guys have any questions for who I’m playing with. I’m asking you, chat.”

“I swear if someone asks about my hands, I’m leaving,” Corpse says and everyone laughs. 

You laugh louder when you read a comment and read it aloud, “_Ironlady _says that you should be a hand model, Corpse.”

“Okay, I’m leaving,” you hear Corpse say over everyone laughing. 

“No, stay!” you exclaim, trying not to laugh. “C’mon, don’t leave.”

He sighs deeply and your brain goes fuzzy. “Fine. I’ll stay for you.”

You beam and your tummy turns. You ignore the whistles and remarks from everyone else and stand beside Corpse. You suddenly wish that the little bean characters could hold hands. 

When PJ joins the server again, Ken starts the round and you cross your fingers, hoping to get crewmate. 

0 rounds before the incident

You mute yourself and sigh when you’re a crewmate. “Thank god.” You let out a breath and go over to admin with everyone else. You swipe your card and go to the cafeteria to do some wires there. 

The game turns out to be rather uneventful. A few people die and two people are voted off before the game gets truly interesting. And that happens when you walk in on Corpse and Felix. 

“I’ve had this song stuck in my head for days,” you’re saying, walking from electrical over to O2. “And I can’t get it out of my head. Maybe singing it will help.” You hum the first part. “Don't go in there, you'll become one. Freaky creatures, monster party. Eyes of yellow, scales and feathers, tails in tethers. Turn the lights off. Bend the nightmare, you control it. Artful dodger, easy does it. Shut the closet, get under the covers. Snakes and lovers. Turn the lights off.” You do a little dance for a moment and continue hum the song, glancing at the chat as you go towards O2 after doing wires in storage. 

“Like, I know the song, it’s just been stuck in my head,” you explain. “And it kind of annoys me--”

But you stop as you enter O2 and watch Corpse murder Felix. Neither one of you move and you don’t know what to do. “Uhhh.” 

Then, without thinking, you turn straight around and make your way away from the scene of the murder. “I didn’t see anything!” you shout to no one. “I suddenly can’t see who murdered Felix.” You smack a hand over your mouth and stand in the middle of a hallway. “Oh my god, what do I do? I don’t want to snitch on Corpse, he’s hot.” You scratch the back of your neck and shrug, continuing on to reactor. “I didn’t see anything.”

You’re in the middle of doing the simon says in reactor when Felix’s body is reported. You unmute yourself and fidget with the sleeve of your hoodie. You know exactly who killed Felix. 

“--was in O2,” says Jaiden and you focus back into the conversation. “And I didn’t see anyone around.”

“I saw you heading that way, y/n, but I know it wasn’t you because I saw you do the trash in storage.”

You look at the screen when Sean talks to you and you chew your lip. “I know who killed Felix.”

“Who?” asks almost everyone at the same time. 

You close your eyes and swallow. It’s just a game, why are you taking this so seriously? Suddenly, a song lyric pops into your head and your stomach flips. You imagine yourself saying it and no one knows who you mean except for him. 

You open your eyes. “I’d never snitch on daddy.”

There’s a laugh in the chat and you blush fiercely, your livestream chat blowing up once again.

“I think we know who it is, then,” says Sean, laughing. 

“Yeah,” agrees Lizzie and your eyes widen. 

“Wait, what?” you ask, watching everyone vote almost as soon as the discussion time ends. “Wait, hang on, who--”

“We know who you’re talking about, y/n,” PJ tells you. 

You vote for yourself and your brain goes blank as you see that everyone voted for Corpse. He even voted for himself. They knew. They all _knew _about your feelings for Corpse. 

The round ends with Corpse being voted out and the crewmates win. There’s some talking, but you stay on the victory screen. You’re trying to decide if your mad or embarrassed or both. 

“I didn’t know you’d say that, y/n,” Corpse says, effectively breaking you out of your trance. “I thought you were gonna snitch on me.”

“You heard her,” teases Lizzie and you can tell she’s grinning. “She’d never snitch on you, Corpse.”

He laughs and you feel something in a certain place. “Oh my god, I’m gonna die of embarrassment.” You put your face in your hands, listening to your friends tease you in the chat. You suddenly want to jump out your window and run into traffic. 

“Don’t die,” comes Corpse’s voice through the onslaught of teasing. “I’ll be sad.”

“Fuck!” you shout and slam your hand on your desk, shaking your equipment and scaring your rats. “I’m so sorry, Corpse, that was really weird, I--”

“Stop.” He interrupts you and the chat goes silent and you look up at the screen even though you can’t see him. “It’s okay. It was funny.”

Your eyes widen and then narrow. Funny? He thought what you said was funny? How could he think it was funny?

But then he speaks again and he sounds oddly flustered. “Uh, I gotta go. Um, it was fun playing with you guys. Bye, y/n.”

“Bye Cor--” but then he disconnects and you’re left talking to no one. “--pse.”

There’s a long moment of silence until Felix breaks it. “I can’t believe you just watched me die and didn’t do anything about it.”

There are some laughs and you smile faintly, rejoining the game. “Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”

“Are you okay, y/n?” asks Lizzie. 

You blush and swallow. “I don’t know. God, I’m so weird.” You run a hand through your hair and adjust your headphones

“No, you’re not,” Roomie assures you. “He has a crush on you, too.”

Your eyes widen and you scoot up in your chair. “He does?”

“I mean, he called you pretty once during a game and said that he watches your videos a lot, so maybe.”

You groan and sink in your chair. “I’m gonna go, I need to run into traffic now.”

A few people laugh or chuckle and Lizzie asks you if you’re actually going to leave. 

“Yeah,” you tell her. “But not to run into traffic. I’m going to go play Minecraft to soothe myself.”

“Aw.” You can practically hear her frown. “Okay. Bye, y/n.”

“Good luck with your stream,” Ken tells you. 

You grin. “Okay, thanks, bye.”

When you exit the game and leave the chat, you scream. You actually scream and it’s loud. Your roommate even knocks on your door, asking if you’re okay. 

You look at them and nod. “Yeah, totally fine. Probably about to have a mental breakdown, but I’m fine.”

“Okay,” they say and lean on the doorframe. “But I’m not cutting bangs for you again.”

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, okay, fine.” They leave and you turn back to your stream, feeling like you’re about to cry. Corpse knows you have a crush on him. And it seems like he has one on you as well, but now you’re embarrassed because you called him ‘daddy’ on stream.

You rub your eyes. “Well, now I know what’ll be streaming on Twitter tonight,” you tell the chat. 

#corpse_husband #corpse husband #x reader #female reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse_husband x reader #jacksepticeye #among us #ldshadowlady #pewdiepie #fanfic

[literallymitch]

𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 || 𝐃.𝐃

requested: no

summary: the first part of the reputation series in which the reader first meets Damiano

pairing: Damiano David x famous!reader

word count: 2k

what kind of content: fluff

warnings: drinking

passages written in cursive are flashbacks

some of the lyrics were changed so they would fit the story

Please don’t steal any of my conten and release it elsewhere. Also all of this is fiction. I don’t know these people in real life nor do I know how they act

a/n I I hope you all enjoy this one, as much as I do. I’m so excited about this series jdhidcuheu. What song do you guys think is next? As always please keep in mind english is not my first language. I’m super happy about feedback!!

With a buzzing head I woke up. I shouldn’t have drank so much yesterday. Feeling the after effects of the alcohol I consumed yesterday, I looked at the sleeping figure next to me. A gorgeous man with brown hair and tattoos that fitted him perfectly. I smiled to myself, knowing he was the reason I probably drank a little too much yesterday. There was no way I would have found the courage to actually talk to him otherwise. He looked like an angel sleeping so peacefully in my queen-sized bed. As I looked at his sleeping figure, an idea popped into my head. I grabbed my notebook and went to my balcony that was connected to my bedroom. Looking at him one last time through the huge window in front of me. I opened my notebook and started writing down some lyrics in memory of last night.

You should take it as a compliment That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong

“We wanted to start working on our next album soon too.” , the gorgeous man in front of me said with an Italian accent.

After a few drinks I was finally talking to him. I was too busy taking in his beauty that I didn’t really listen  to what he just said to me. All of a sudden, I started giggling.

“You know, your accent is so funny, I love it. Like the way you pronounce some words? Hilarious”.

“Thanks, I guess?”

I cringed a little thinking about this specific moment. If he knew the only reason I was making a fool out of myself in front of him was his magnificent appearance, he would take it as a compliment. He probably already knew that was the reason. How could he not know? It’s not like he has never looked in a mirror. Also, there is no way, I am the first person that had to suffer from his magnetic self. By now he should know what his whole existence is doing to people.

And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us He's in the club doing, I don't know what You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much (I hate you so much)

“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be here as well?” the beautiful Italian boy asked.

“My wha- Oh you mean Andre? He isn’t my boyfriend. The media just made that up after we went out once, and I was caught at two of his games. We haven't talked in months. He’s probably at some club right now, annoying some poor girl.”

At that moment I thought I’ve seen a small smile appear on his face. He then just turned to the bar tender, ordering another beer. God, how could he just keep his cool like this the whole night. Usually it was the other way around. People would stand drunk in front of me trying to make a move, while I just stood there unimpressed. He really made me feel like an insecure fourteen-year-old girl again, and I hated him for that

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine You've ruined my life, by not being mine

“The sunset is really beautiful today” Damiano stated sipping on his glass of Whisky. I nodded in agreement while I ate a grape from the vine that was placed on the bar counter.

The bar were at was on top of a small mountain somewhere outside Rome. From there we had a great view over the whole city of Rome and how the sun met the city's skyline. It really was beautiful, still it was nothing compared to him. I wish he would’ve been mine, so I could’ve rested my head on his shoulder right there and then, but he wasn’t.

You should take it as a compliment That I'm talking to everyone here but you (but you, but you)

“I’m glad we’re finally getting a chance to talk after you talked to, well, everyone else at this bar except me.”, the handsome man called me out while he sat down next to me.”

Feeling a bit caught, I just gave him an awkward smile. I tried to come up  with a reasonable excuse, that was less embarrassing than ‘Yeah sorry about that, I was just too scared to talk to you because you look like you’re straight out of my dreams.’

“I’m really sorry about that! It was just that every time I was done talking to someone, the next person already stood behind me wanting to talk.” I lied.

“It’s alright. I guess that's what happens when you’re a world-famous singer.”

And you should think about the consequence Of you touching my hand in the darkened room

It was now 11pm and the sky outside was completely dark. The lights in the bar were also dimmed a bit, creating a cozy atmosphere. Damiano and I were in the middle of our conversation, as he accidentally grabbed my hand, that was resting on the bar counter, instead of his drink. It felt like an electric shock. An electric shock that woke up the butterflies inside my body. My hand started to tingle, and I’m pretty I was full on blushing now.

If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her But if you're single that's honestly worse 'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

“So do you have a girlfriend?”,  at this point I was so drunk I didn’t even care how this question came across anymore.

I was pretty sure he in fact had a girlfriend, I mean how could he not looking like this?

“No I don’t.” Thank god. “It’s kinda hard building up a real relationship with someone when you're always busy, but I guess you can tell me a thing or two about it too.”

Oh, yes, I could. Still I would drop everything I was doing right now,  just to be with him.

Chocolate brown eyes looking in mine I feel like I might sink and drown and die

Just as my confidence made a small comeback, I made the mistake to directly look into Damianos beautiful brown eyes. There really wasn’t a single thing about him that wasn’t extremely beautiful. I started to feel a bit dizzy as a wave of heat rushed through my body. What is this man doing to me?

Just thinking about it again made my heart beat three times faster.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

For like the million time this evening, he made a laugh. Great, so he wasn’t just incredibly handsome, but also extremely funny. I didn’t realize how happy I was in his presence until I remembered he wasn’t mine. Suddenly I felt kind of sad, thinking about how I maybe would never see him again after tonight. I just wanted to grab his hand and run away with him. Somewhere I could be alone with him. Somewhere he would be only mine.

Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats Alone, unless you wanna come along

I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall behind the bar tender. I was shocked when I realized it was already midnight. There was no way we’ve been talking for like three hours now. I scanned the room for my friends, I went here with in the first place.

“Looking for someone specific?” Damiano asked, now also looking in the direction I was looking in.

“Just my friends, but it seems like they already went home. I’ll check if they texted me” I picked up my phone, checking if I had a message from my friends.

‘Hi babe, we already went home, we were kinda tired. Have fun talking to handsome stranger. You better tell us everything tomorrow ;)’

“Did they text you?”

“Yes, my friend texted me that they already went home. Guess I’ll have to go home alone then. At least my cats are waiting for me.” I stood up and tried to make my way over to the wardrobe to get my coat. Unfortunately I forgot how drunk I actually and almost tripped as I tried to walk. Alcohol and heels really are not a good combo. Thankfully Damiano grabbed my arm helping me to stabilize myself.

“You’re sure, you’ll make it home alone?”

“Yes, I am a big girl. Unless you wanna come along.” I said with a cheeky grin on my face.

Damiano left out a soft chuckle. He paid for our drinks and then accompanied me on my way back home.

“It’s already pretty late, if you want to, you can stay over.” I told him after he brought me up to my bedroom.

“That would be nice, thanks.”

After I got myself ready for bed, I basically fell into my cozy bed, cuddling myself up in my soft sheet.

“You mind telling me where your guestroom is before falling asleep?” the Italian boy asked with an amused look on his face.

“Mmh, I don’t know. Just sleep here, it's fine.” I answered him, already half asleep.

After that, I probably fell asleep, since I don’t remember anything else that happened.

You're so gorgeous I can't say anything to your face (to your face) 'Cause look at your face

“Good morning.” I heard a raspy voice say.

I looked up from my notebook and came face to face with Damiano gorgeous figure. His hair was messy, and he still looked a bit sleepy. Since he just wore a pair of boxer shorts, I could finally see all the tattoos that covered his upper body. All of a sudden I felt the same way as I did last night when I saw him for the first time. The words were stuck in my throat and I felt the anxiety build up in my body. How does he manage to make me feel this way by just existing?

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” I somehow managed to say.

“Yes I did thank you. What are you doing?” he asked me curiously as he sat down on the garden chair next to me.

“I’m just writing a song. The idea came to mind when I woke up.”

“Not gonna lie, it’s pretty impressive that you’re able to write a song now after you could barely walk yesterday.” a small laugh left his mouth. “Can I see it?”

“No, it’s kinda awful. I’m to hungover to write something good now. I just wanted to write the idea down.” I lied,  I actually really liked the stuff I wrote so far, but he would probably think I’m a freak when he found out I wrote a song about after knowing him for a day.

“Can you at least tell me what it is about?”

“So you can steal my brilliant idea? No, thanks.” we both started laughing. “I can offer you breakfast though”

“I’m fine with that too” he said flashing me his beautiful smile

And I'm so furious At you for making me feel this way But what can I say? You're gorgeous

We were now sitting on my roof garden eating breakfast. Damiano told me some things about his life and what interests he had. As he did, so I looked at him in awe. I really started crushing on him as he continued to talked about his last tour with a huge smile on his face. I hated it that I was practically on my knees for him already, but how could I not? He’s perfect.

“I could really get used to this, you know?” he said out of nowhere.

“Me too.” I responded, not really questioning what he meant.

I also didn’t care as long as it involved us spending time together. I would make him mine no matter what.

#damiano david #måneskin #damiano david fanfiction #damiano david x reader #damiano david imagine #damiano david fluff #damiano maneskin #maneskin #måneskin imagine #taylor swift #reputation #reputation series

[lemonhobgoblin]

Softer than the Summer Night

Mothman X (gender neutral) Reader

Length: 2k

Genre: Slight NSFW & Fluff

___________________________________________________

"Stay don't move please," you wearily voiced into the dark.

When you spoke it worsened the strain you were feeling, your face contorted in discomfort. Even the thought of being moved was enough to get you squirming and whining. On your aching knees, hunched over, knuckles turning lighter in color, and eyes fixed ahead.

The sounds of the city outside your home were overshadowed by your ragged breath. All you could hear was breath and beating heart. You couldn't endure this any longer. You knew you couldn’t stay like this forever. You desperately wanted to move and finish what you started, and backing out now was far from being a feasible option.

"Fuck." Feeling a slight slip up on the other end. You physically couldn't take much more of this.

Your grip on the material you had bunched in your hands was loosening, and your reign on things was beginning to drastically falter.

"O fuck me" you breathed out frustrated, resting your head against a wooden frame. You could feel yourself getting tuckered out from this ordeal, feeling yourself becoming flushed with a light layer of sweat coating your skin. This was a good time as any now and fully let go. Knees and thighs sore from holding your still form, you began to move, releasing yourself of this hold.

"Ahhhh," you moaned out, watching in disbelief as the blanket slipped off the chair. Frustrated you threw yourself back onto the cool floor. You wasted your time doing that for nothing.

Heated at how the fabric refused to stay in place no matter how much you adjusted it. You flopped onto the hard floor to cool down. The cool ground felt refreshing on your steamy body. You didn't even want to look at it at the fort at the moment. Knowing you would just give up if you tried again immediately. You decided to rest your eyes and give yourself some time to collect yourself. Giving yourself some time before getting back to work on it.

Why wouldn’t it stay when you wanted it to stay.

Perhaps you should've just waited for your partner to bring you the supplies and figure out what to do from there. Of course, you being you, you got a little impatient eager.

It wasn’t a minute till you felt a presence hovering over you- watching.

Cracking open your eyes, you saw standing over you was a large humanoid moth-like creature looking down upon your disheveled form. Holding a batch of items in his arms, curiously staring at you. Tilting his head, confused as to why you were on the floor and.. sweaty?

"Hey, you grabbed the stuff I asked for?" You asked. Not wanting to get into the details as to why you were down on the ground defeated.

He nodded.

"Cool, well just give me a minute more. I'm almost done here. I still need to fix some things." Launching yourself back into a sitting position, getting back to work on keeping the blanket in place, only for it to slip off the wooden dining chair again.

Groaning over the fact that you were making a fool of yourself- especially in front of Mothman. He shouldn’t have to see in all your shame. Meantime, Mothman was just standing there completely unaware of what's going on still, but content to be part of it.

Internally wallowing to yourself, unsure whether you should continue or throw yourself into your half-done structure and call it a night.

Then it hit you.

Recalling that you asked for Mothman to bring duct tape. Looking back, scanning through the items within his arms. You successfully spotted the tape that was cradled within his right arm.

"Can you pass me that duct tape in your arms?" you pointed.

"No, not that"

"it's right there. That's not it."

Redirecting him and pointing out what you wanted, only to end up playing a guessing game. Sifting through each item, and saying no to everything he held out. How he was able to get the supplies you asked for? You'll never know.

After the first ten items, Mothman dropped all the material onto the floor with a thud. Thinking it would be easier to get what you wanted. Unsurprised, you stared at the pile straight lip. “No problem that is just as effective."

Crawling to the pile in the middle living room of your home, to grab the roll of tape.

What started as a calm night alone, became a little date night-with Mothman coming over uninvited. This wasn't uncommon he did this quite often, but you never turned him down always glad to welcome him in. That and also the fact you didn't want a seven-foot monster outside your window scratching at your window like a stray cat begging to be let in and draw attention to himself.

Bringing you up to speed now, putting together a fort. Clearly, rusty, it's been some time since you made a blanket fort. It wasn't your fault, you were always busy to do anything like this. Even if you did have the time, it just never occurred to you to do so after a long day of work. Usually, the closest thing to this, is you grabbing a throw blanket and pillow onto the floor with maybe some plushies and calling it a day.

But with Mothman in the picture, you had to get creative with things to do at home. Meaning you coming up with indoor activities and not go out in public at all. So no causal stroll by the park, or popping into a nice establishment and chat. As amusing it would be going out, you couldn’t do that for Mothman’s safety and especially those around. Leaving you both to see each other deep in the wilderness at night, in the abandoned TNT facility where the Cryptid resided and here in your home.

And you both managed to keep each other occupied- getting into ridiculous shenanigans. There wasn’t a day you were bored of one another’s company, even when you both had nothing to do. It was always a good time. And today was any different.

Tapping down the blanket against stile of the chair and now the moment of truth. Removing your hands and...

It didn’t move. It stayed.

“Finally!” throwing your arms up in triumph. Behind you, Mothman watched your mini victory pose. Unsure what you were doing with your arms in the air he mimicked your gesture.

“Alright, just a few more things.” Walking back to the heap on the ground, pushing and gathering all of it into the fort to do some final touch-ups. Leaving Mothman to awkwardly put his arms down as you disappeared inside.

Decorating and organizing the interior of the fort, striving to make it as pleasant and comfy as possible. Knowing that Mothman probably hasn't experienced this before. You wanted this to be perfect. Well as perfect as you could, given that you already used tape.

Amid you’re scrambling, a curious and impatient Mothman wanted a quick glimpse, to get a clue to what you were doing. He figured it was shelter, but why make another within your home.

As quiet as he could, he tried to lower himself onto all fours - to sneakily get a peek inside. Unfortunately, due to his large stature mixed with the old floorboard, you were alerted of him snooping by the sound of squeaky floorboards.

“Not yet." You said, popping, catching him off guard, in the act.

Surprised he just looked down, pretending he was looking at something interesting. Squinting your eyes, you went back inside.

Once you were back inside, he was back to his antics, and once more you heard his attempt. "Not yet" you reminded, poking out once more before going back in.

Of course, that didn't stop. He tried his hand again and you knew him too well, you were quick to scold him from inside without having to peer out.

Startled, his antennas and the fur on his body puffed out. How do you see him? Looking around to see if you were behind him or somewhere else in the room. Are you still in there? A valid reason for him to look inside now, he chirped eagerly. “Nice, try. I’m still in here and you can’t come in yet,” you announced.

Defeated, he deflated and resigned himself to sitting on the floor picking at the rug. Fortunately, he didn't have too long.

"Okay, you can come in" you called out.

You were content with the work you did both inside and out; well mostly inside. A couple of plush blankets laid on the ground with pillows lined against the walls of the interior and little something extra strung around. But there was still a good amount of space, that even Mothman could probably fit inside. Reaching for the electric lantern, to illuminate the area. You heard shuffling behind you- figuring it was the Cryptid making himself comfortable.

Lantern in hand you turned right around, the light flicking on, and was greeted with misjudgment.

Guess not you thought.

Seated smack dab in the middle, Mothman had unceremoniously become a support beam for the structure. His head pitching up the sinking portion of the blanket up. Clearly, this wasn’t large enough.

"I thought this would be big enough." You huffed to yourself.

You felt positive this was big enough, thinking to yourself - trying to see how you could fix this. Whereas Mothman just did his own thing and took matters into his own hands.

"Maybe if you-“You trailed off, watching him crawl further inside before rolling onto his back, laying his head against a pillow you set near the walls of the fort - stretching his legs across the entire interior and his feet simply hanging out from the entrance. “Or that. That's fine too."

Inching closer to him, you noted his pleasant demeanor, his chest rising steadily as he breathed in deeply, his fur ruffling up and flattening back as he exhaled. His limbs going completely slack, his muscles loosened. He was completely at ease.

“Comfy?” you teased.

He chirped in response.

"Well, I'm about to up the ante," you crawled over across his torso, reaching for a switch just near him.

"1,2,3" with a click, the interior light up with a soft warm golden glow of fairy lights strewn about all over. Though it may be cheap lighting, its beautifully sparkling bulbs filled the area with a warm, cozy atmosphere as well giving you a sense of awe just as it did for Mothman.

"Do you like it?" You asked.

Sitting up with wide eyes, Mothman gazed on with the utmost sense of wonder, transfixed on the lights and nothing else. As if he was in a world of his own. This wasn’t anything new, honestly, this was one of the first things you noticed when you first met him. And you’ve seen his habit time and time again. But you could never grow tired of it. It was quite adorable.

"I’m assuming so.” You chuckled.

Your laugh snaked its way into his enraptured mind, knocking him out of his trance. He stared at you, nearly forgetting you were there. As luminous and beautiful as the light was, there was something missing.

It didn't take long for you to catch Mothman's sudden change in behavior-still as statue and eyes locked on you.

"Mothman?"

Without giving you a chance to ask, he moved toward you, lifting you from your spot like some common house cat with ease; body slack and no resistance. He placed you right in his lap, before laying back with you laying on top of him-your back against his chest.

This was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. You shifted into a more comfortable position, Flipping over onto your stomach, propping your head up with one hand while the other lightly stroke at his chest- you peered down at him. "Better?"

Mothman sunk further in his spot, completely in bliss, and if that wasn't proof enough Mothman purred even louder in pure content. Now it was perfect. Wrapping his arms around you, hugging you closer to him-making you rest your head on him. You smiled, digging your head further into his plush chest.

He finally realized what you made, it was a nest for the both of you. Thats why you were so eager to make this. He couldn't wait to put this fort to good use. But seeing how hard you work on this, he could only guess how tired you were after put this together. So he'll let you rest.

The strong vibration from his purring perforated through your body. Whatever tension or stress you had melted away. It was enough to slowly lull into a nice slumber.

Well there go your movie plans in here. But that was okay because this was better.

Together you both laid there in silence. The beat of his heart keeping in rhythm with yours along with the ambiance of the city outside your home. The feeling of his chest rising and falling with you. Sheltered under a flimsy but cushiony fort. You eventually succumbing to sleep while Mothman stayed up to keep watch - enjoying whatever time he had left with you till heading out before dawn. Until the next night, when you could see each other again. So for now, you both held each other in each other's arms on this soft summer night.

............

A/N: Thanks for Reading!! <3

#mothman #cryptids #mothman x reader #Mothman x reader insert #Mothman imagine #Mothman fic #exophilia #monster #creature #monster romance #monster lover #tw monsterfucking #monster fucker #monster fic #monster x human #Mothman x human #tetraphilia

[itskatastrophe-x]

Finally Home (c!Sapnap x Reader)

I let my twitter followers decide who I wrote a oneshot for, and they wanted c!Sapnap, so here it is :) Written in the span of like... Idk 2 hours?? It’s a soulmate AU where you can feel everything your soulmate feels when you get in a certain distance of them and it gets stronger the closer you get to them. I hope yall like it!!

Word count :  2,701

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

There it was again. That burning sensation on the palms of your hands. You didn’t understand where it came from or why it was happening, but it hurt like hell. You wondered if it would ever stop, but you doubted it would. You knew the stories all too well but figured it would never happen to you, and slowly your fears confirmed it as all of your friends got theirs and eventually found their person. A soulmate. The way they talked about how they could feel what their soulmate felt on a physical level. They would feel light brushes against their arms or bumps when the other person would be somewhere busy. All of your friends had found their other halves years ago, explaining that when it happened there was a jolt like electricity in their bodies. After all of your friends had abandoned you, you had given up hope in ever finding your person. So you travelled. For miles and miles and miles, seeing every country, village, and kingdom your empty heart desired. You had lost everyone you loved and couldn’t even find your soulmate. 

Then it happened all too suddenly. If you had to guess, it happened when you got within range of the person, so you kept up your pace and travelled. It was an unpleasant sensation. It felt like fire all over your body. At first it was a small stinging, then the farther you travelled, the closer you got to this person, it grew. You would wake up in the middle of the night screaming because of cuts and wounds your other half would experience. You wished it was something as simple as the things your friends had gone through, but this was a nightmare. You wished you could meet this person once and for all just so you could give them a strong right hook to the jaw, then changed your mind as you remembered that you would also feel it. 

You knew by the things you were going through that this person was crazy and potentially dangerous with the amount of wounds this person was accumulating through the weeks of you travelling, so you did your best to be delicate. Whenever you would feel a new pain, you would prepare healing potions and drink them in hopes that the other person would also feel the effects. Either that or, if it didn’t feel like a gash or deep cut, you would trace your fingers over the spot gently to sooth the other person to let them know you would comfort them. What you couldn’t stand, though, was the feeling of fire dancing around your fingers. You eventually learned to tune it out and numb yourself to it, so it wasn’t nearly as bad as it was when it started, but it was still painful and annoying.

Then it stopped as suddenly as it started. For three whole days. Three. Days. After the first couple hours of the first day you started to worry. It was rare that you got a single second of rest from this crazy asshole, but three days? Part of you hoped he wasn’t dead, but the other part was happy you didn’t have to deal with scratches, bruises, and burning. But you missed it so much that you wished the burning in your palms returned. Nothing stopped you from continuing on though, even though you had no idea if you were going the right way anymore or not. You used the pain as a guide for weeks to lead you closer, but when it stopped, you lost your physical compass. Something in your heart told you that you were still heading towards them though, so you kept on, this time faster and without much sleep. You wanted to make sure this person was ok, and fast. You watched all of your friends leave you, you couldn’t have your literal soulmate leave you as well. 

When the third day ended and you were about to fall asleep, you felt it. The smallest little touch to your cheek you had ever felt. It was out of the blue and you had never felt such a touch come from the other person, so it woke you up instantly. You laid there for a moment, the stroking on your cheek so soft and faint that you wondered if it was even the person at all. Slowly, you lifted your hand to your other cheek and caressed it. The feeling on your other cheek stopped, but the feeling of a hand still stayed there. That’s when you knew it was them. They knew you would feel it, but probably weren’t expecting you to return the feeling to them. The stroking started again, so you stroked your other cheek for them as well. Then it hit you. Why had you never thought of it before? After weeks of knowing you had a soulmate out there, it just now hit you. You sat up from your bed in the little hotel you were staying at and tapped your leg. The feeling on your cheek stopped then you felt the same tap on your leg again. You smiled and pressed your hand down for a second and felt more pressure a couple seconds later. 

Then you started. At first it was a smiley face, then letters one at a time to write to the person. You asked their age first. Then you felt the pressure of the person writing back. “20”. You drew yours back, then they drew a smile to confirm they got it. You asked their name. “Nick” they wrote back. Then you wrote yours. You got as much information as you could from this small communication as possible so you could find him easier. After your small exchange, you got up, got dressed, packed your things and headed towards a location called “Dream SMP”. You had seen it on maps before, but it was so far away that you thought you would never get there. You had already crossed oceans, rivers, and mountains for this man, but now you had a new fire to feel. A fire burning so deep in you that it ignited in your eyes. You used all the money and resources you had to get there. You bought boats and horses for the days leading up to your arrival.

After over a month of travelling, you finally made it to the outside borders of what was known as the DreamSMP. The streets were full and bustling with life. Most people smiled and greeted you as a new member, fully accepting you the second you set foot on the land, others scowled or threw hateful words your way, possibly thinking you wouldn’t hear, or maybe they hoped you would so you would leave. You asked around about this person “Nick” and got an overwhelming response of happy chatter and protests of anger, so you left as politely as you could to search on your own. 

You felt like it would take forever to find this other person if all of the streets and businesses would be this crowded and overwhelming, until you came across one man standing at the edge of a river with his eyes closed and a smile on his face. His fluffy brown hair flipped up in the front and slightly waved in the breeze, the colors he wore matching his vibe completely. You approached him cautiously at first, but felt comforted by the aura he gave off. You cleared your throat quietly, so as not to startle him, and he opened his eyes slowly to greet you, the lightest shade of blue you had ever seen. He gave you a soft smile and waved you over, so you complied. 

For a second, you wondered if this was him, but you took note of his soft, clear looking skin and the lack of electricity as you neared him. When you got next to him, he pointed across the river to a very ornate village sitting on the hills surrounded by flower forests. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” You stared in awe at the mushroom buildings and statue and smiled at him. “I’ve travelled a long way to get here and passed hundreds of kingdoms, but this tops them all,” you replied. He made a noise of agreement and smiled, content with your answer. “Well, tell me, new face, how did you make your way to Kinoko Kingdom, and why are you here?” There was no malice in his voice as he asked and you could tell he was being friendly so you knew you wasn’t being standoffish. “I came to meet my soulmate,” you answered. His eyes went wide and met yours, a look of shock on his face. “Th-that’s you?!” You looked at him, furrowing your brows. How did he know? As if to read your mind, he continued. “I knew he was expecting someone, but, wow… I mean… He’s gonna want to meet you now. He literally hasn’t shut up for weeks about you.” You stammered for a second as he grabbed your hand and started running, barely giving you any reaction time to keep up with him. He was fast and energetic and you liked it. He seemed friendly and bubbly and his touch was comforting. 

He weaved in and out of streets and occasional bystanders watching the two of you with wide eyes and gaping mouths. You took it these people didn’t see many new faces, seeing as they were small in numbers. He didn’t slow down until both of you were panting in front of a giant cherry blossom tree in front of the biggest library you had seen. You could hear a loud voice echoing out of the open hole, acting as a doorway. The man next to you put a hand on your shoulder and you looked over at his grinning face. “I should explain before you get in there… My name is Karl and Sapnap, or Nick, is my fiancé. Now before you get worried, we’re in an open, poly relationship and he’s talked to me about all of this and I am 100% welcoming you into our little family.” He gave you a warm smile that reached his eyes so you knew he was being sincere. 

A booming shout broke your thoughts and you felt a pain in your toe that almost made you fall over, then loud laughter erupted. You smiled and shook off your foot as Karl motioned you inside, and that’s all you needed to run inside. The space inside was open with books lining the high walls. There was a staircase to your right, a mushroom in the far back, and a balcony above your head. There you saw him. At first he stood there laughing with the other man in front of him, not realizing you were inside, so you stared. You felt something like fire dancing across your skin lightly as you watched him with wide eyes. He was more beautiful than anyone you had ever seen. He had his jet black hair tied into a messy, low bun at the back of his head, a scar across the length of his face that went across the bridge of his nose. He had a light dusting of freckles across his rosy cheeks and the most piercing eyes. The man in front of him caught onto your stare and nudged the man, pointing down at you from their spot on the balcony. When his eyes met yours, a shiver went up your spine and your skin felt hot, like you were now encased in a cocoon of fire. For a moment you both just stared at each other, not being able to move, until you felt a pair of hands push you gently from behind.

That’s all it took to move you. You took off towards the stairs and took them two at a time as he ran to meet you on the landing. You collided into the biggest hug that knocked the wind out of your lungs and almost sent you flying backwards, but he kept you steady. Your eyes welled up for a moment and you laughed into his chest. He smelled like a campfire, fir trees, and old books. He was so warm and your body fit his so perfectly under his arms. You heard footsteps coming up the stairs and a soft touch to your shoulder, a small hum coming from Karl behind you. “Thank god you’re finally here. Sapnap literally would not shut up. He always talked about how soft you were with him when he knew how hard it must have been for you. Weeks. Weeks.” Sapnap reached an arm out to punch Karl, but he dodged easily since Sapnap still hadn’t let you go. You chuckled and closed his eyes as he put his arm back over your shoulder and squeezed you closer to him. 

“I can’t believe you’re real,” he whispered into your hair. He squeezed him and smiled. “You thought I wasn’t?” He sighed and relaxed his shoulders. “I thought you would hate me. I’m so reckless and get hurt all the time. How could anyone want me if they feel what I feel?” You pulled back to look him in the eyes and you gave him the most genuine smile you had ever had on your face. “You’re stupid. Of course I would be here. And I will stay here. I’ll take care of all your bumps, scrapes, and stabs. The pain means nothing so long as I know you’re ok.” His pointed ears turn a bright red and he averts his gaze to the floor, so you bring your hand to his cheek gently. At first he flinches, but soon closes his eyes, sighs, and leans into your hand, his lip slightly quivering from such tenderness. 

“I do have one question, though.” He hums, not opening his eyes. “Why do my palms always burn? Do you just, like, constantly sit around a campfire?” He chuckles and slowly lifts his head, eyes opening to look at you. He pulls back from you slightly, keeping one arm around your waist as he watches his hand, then back to your face to watch your eyes on his hand. In an instant, his hand is surrounded by fire, the burning in your hand starting up. He must have liked the look on your face because he lets out a snort and then starts laughing, all while you stand there in awe at the power he held. “Holy shit… And… And that’s real fire? Just like that?” You look back at him and he gives you a shy smile and a nod of his head as the fire goes out. There was a sparkle in your eyes that he was absolutely enchanted by and he hoped he would get to see that for the rest of his life. You let out a small huff of amazement and smile brightly. “You are the most amazing person I have ever met,” you say quietly as you watch his features soften as he’s left speechless. 

“Oh get a room,” the guy behind Sapnap says, his voice thick with an accent and sarcasm, the sound of a smile in his words. Sapnap looks at the man and points at him, shooting off a mini fire at him. His shirt catches for a second before the man screams and smacks himself to put it out. You laugh as you watch the exchange and Sapnap looks back at you, thinking of how beautiful your laugh sounds. “Well,” Karl starts. “We have a lot to talk about! Ooooooh this is so exciting! We need to know more about you!!” He grabs both of you and pulls you down the stairs and out to the pond next to the tree out front, the sun finally setting over the hills, casting a gorgeous, fiery glow on your soulmate’s features. You couldn’t wait to see what their life was like. To kiss all of his scars and tell him how amazing he was. To run your fingers through his raven feather-looking hair. Oh how you loved this.

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #c!sapnap #dsmp #dream smp #mcyt #soulmate au #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #fire #dream #karl jacobs #fiancetwt #fiances #soulmates #george not found #minecraft #reader

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

canNOT decide which version of “Harry Wilson actually already knows Kate Bishop, thanks anyway” i like more:

Harry was one of Derek Bishop’s attorneys and he’s actually the one who cut Kate off

variations on “Harry worked for Derek”

he calls her now that he’s a good guy to talk to her about her dad’s company, he’s thinking of seeing if Leverage will go after Derek next, and he asks her to meet up with him

at like, an abandoned warehouse or something super sketch like that

and Kate says sure, but she’s ALSO not stupid, so she calls David and asks if he’ll go with her

David Hardison says yeah, his babes are going to be in New York that week so he’ll be able to spend time with them!! 

They meet in the super sketchy warehouse and Harry’s all “Hardison? What are you doing here?” and Hardison is all “why the hell are you calling my friend Kate,” and Kate’s all “David why the hell do you know my dad’s asshole lawyer”

a hiLARious misunderstanding

Harry finds out Kate is Hawkeye and he’s like. okay. okay. i need a minute. i need to find someplace to sit down. you’re saying you could have sniped me at any moment, i just, i need a minute

if this is KateQuinn then Quinn goes with her, OBVIOUSLY

and Eliot goes with Harry because Harry lets slip he’s meeting up with someone who probably doesn’t like him very much

Eliot and Quinn are both checking the perimeter and run into each other. they start fighting before they realize who they are

and then it’s lots of back slapping and “dude!”

Eliot rolls his eyes so hard when he finds out Harry is here to see Kate

if he’d been less secrety, they could have had this meeting somewhere with less water damage

harry has a lil crush on quinn

PERHAPS Kate goes to meet Harry, but this time she’s bringing her OWN lawyers, Matt and Foggy, who Harry ALSO knows

and he’s just like, fuck, fuck, i CANNOT catch a break

OR. Leverage is working an unrelated gig and Kate just happens to be at the party they are at to work the mark

Harry and Kate lock eyes and she. the look she gives him. it’s a MURDER look.

and harry’s just like shit shit shit. i think she knows i helped her dad put a hit on an avenger. how does she know. 

Eliot intercepts her before she gets to Harry because Kate can legitimize the con and she’s helped them before

Kate realizing Harry is on the earbuds and straight up threatening him with murder when she’s done

MattKate version where they’re at the party and Matt can tell Harry has the earbud in and tells Kate it’s David’s team

Kate stalks up to Harry and says something to the effect of “say hi to david for me” and Eliot and Parker start freAKIng out because yay!!! kate!!!

they tell Harry what to say so Kate doesn’t deck him and ruin the con

at some point Eliot goes “i think Kate’s lawyer boyfriend is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen”

“the BLIND LAWYER?”

“it’s a very distinctive stance!”

Harry realizes he not only helped Derek put a hit on an avenger but also his own daughter and harry has a meltdown

OR

they’re running the info on their next job, which is bishop publishing, and Kate walks in, sees Harry, LAUNCHES herself at him, and decks him

cut to harry with a bag of frozen peas against his face while Eliot tries not to laugh

Harry put together the prenup for Derek and wife #5 and went to the wedding. He had the good fortune to sit next to Kate who was guessing how long the marriage would last and how much everything cost like “these super ugly floral arrangements could have funded the meal programs in three schools”

kate kind of hates everything, so harry asks why she even came?

she wanted to glare at her dad the whole night. just enough to make him and the bride uncomfortable

“she’s my age. that’s very ew.” 

“to be fair, she’s almost thirty, once you hit thirty age differences are less--”

“i know how old she is, we graduated high school together.”

“ah, yep. ew.”

the wedding was held at an art museum or something

kate: i know someone who stole this painting once.

harry: ha. ha. ok.

somehow convinced harry to steal some champagne and go into an off limits area to play beer pong with champagne

“i didn’t go to college right after high school, this is what college is like, yeah?”

“it is absolutely not”

he says something about her inheritance and she snorts. she’s not in the will.

harry thinks he could probably write her back into it and no one would know

he’s impressed she has her own business

she’s not impressed he works for her dad

he humblebrags about his daughter

kate: u know what would piss my dad off

harry: i do not.

kate:

harry: no. absolutely no. nope. 

kate: :(

they keep running into each other

kate sneaks into her dad’s new year’s eve party (she was not invited)

she’s planning on stealing some data from him. like crime data

harry has no idea she wasn’t invited, he’s just like “thank fuck someone fun”

at midnight they do the “should we?” awkward shoulder bob thing and give each other a respectful lil smooch

people start to leave and Kate has to bounce before her dad notices her

Harry of course is all “i should walk you home or to a cab, it’s late, who knows what could happen”

which to Kate is the equivalent of a puppy barking at a vacuum

anyway at some point they probably make out

and then Kate realizes Harry’s a sketchy kind of lawyer and nopes out immediately

cut to a year later, Eliot’s telling the team that Hawkeye is going to be joining them on this job for some unspecified reason

everyone is mildly insulted at how surprised Harry is that they know an Avenger

Breanna is SO EXCITE. She temped for Kate one time and they accidentally blew up some dickbag’s bitcoin mining operation because he was stealing electricity from a poor neighborhood

to clarify, FINDING the guy was an accident, the explosion was planned

Alec had given them his “i’m very disappointed” face when he found out. apparently Kate is immune to that face

but the whole point of working with kate was to not do crime so alec was all “no more temp for you”

but basically everyone knows which Hawkeye Eliot is talking about and they’re all really excited and don’t worry, Harry, Hawkeye is cool

and in comes Kate

she and Harry see each other and freeze all YOU

and of course EVERyone in that room either knows how to read people or is being trained to read people so they’re all going oH WHAT. WHAT. SOMETHING HAPPENED WITH THE TWO OF YOU OH OHHHHH

“what are you doing here, sketchy-ass lawyer man?”

“it’s mr. sketchy ass lawyer man to you, and what do you mean what am i doing here, what are you doing here?”

“so i guess you two know each other,” Eliot says

“yeah???” goes kate “he’s one of my dad’s douchebag lawyers!”

“ex douchebag lawyer.”

eventually it gets to harry going “wait, I thought hawkeye was coming?” and all of the rest of leverage going “she’s Here!” and waving in Kate’s direction

Harry is quiet for a minute and then is like “i guess that’s why you laughed at me when i offered to walk you home on new year’s”

“i didn’t MEAN to laugh”

OR Harry represented Derek against Kate

OR Harry was originally Kate’s council as part of Derek Bishop’s team of lawyers, and then when Kate realized her dad was a criminal it became Harry’s job to make her go away and stop causing a ruckus so Kate’s only reason for agreeing to help is on the off chance she gets to punch him

or

harry comes in to meet their newest client and is all ???? the fuck is that vapid heiress doing here, how does someone like her warrant our help

and of course kate is like, tf is that asshole doing here, mr hey-derek-let’s-hide-some-of-your-money-offshore like THAT’s not super sus

at some point he sees her and eliot sparring and harry just. bluescreens. does not compute.

he never had to deal with kate personally but stories about her are legendary, she’s the WORST kind of young money. reckless spending. drinks like the world is going to end. will snort anything.

and here she is. an actual superhero. who apparently uses partying as a cover for vigilantism. and knows how to fool a breathalyzer into thinking she’s drunk when she’s not

he feels bad for whoever her legal council is now. imagine having to deal with that.

turns out he’s her legal council now. whoops.

someone points out that they’re all sort of vigilantes

and someone--either Parker or Kate--goes, “we’re not vigilantes, we’re a vigilanTEAM”

harry has the most profound moment of “were it not for the laws of this land i would have slaughtered you where you stand” he’s ever had in his life

#leverage #leverage redemption #kate bishop #hawkeye #young avengers #harry wilson #our mr. wilson #david alleyne #alec hardison #eliot spencer #mr. quinn #obsessed with this idea

[skinsharpenedteeth]

RNM After Dark - Friday - Down to Earth

Here's my submission for @rnmafterdark

Day 1 - Down to Earth.

It features... dom/sub behavior, discussions of kink and safewords, impact play, cock and ball torture (CBT), masochism, sadism, a little bit of humiliation, and a school bus converted into a sex dungeon...

it's 6400 words, rated E-AF for Explicit As Fuck.

Also posted on AO3 for your kudos-ing, commenting, and bookmarking pleasure!

-

"What You Need and What You Want"

.

Alex didn't know why he needed it. He'd thought he was past needing to be yelled at after basic and living with his father, but the drill sergeants could only yell at you about the most superficial weaknesses. He could be called soft, pretty, or a mama's boy all day and it wouldn't even tweak a nerve. But late at night in foreign cities stateside and abroad, in clubs he’d found for people like him, people who needed something more, he had found other men who got closer to making him feel the way he needed to feel. Their rough hands, their sharp words, and the way they weren’t moved by his tears unless he said a word to make them stop, had turned out to be exactly what he’d needed that was more.

Then Alex had come back home from combat and anonymity. He’d tried to move into his old life, tried to fit into the version of himself that was normal, and found out that so many things were not what they seemed. But he hadn’t been able to get what he needed in a small town. So he’d driven to Albuquerque, looking for someone to fill that part of himself that needed to wallow in punishment and pain. But Albuquerque wasn’t big enough, wasn’t dark enough, wasn’t learned enough to know the difference between dominance and cruelty. It was close enough though. Close enough for Alex to fill in the gaps with his mind of the things he was missing.

Michael had noticed his trips. Michael noticed everything. He’d noticed that Alex wasn’t coming home calm, but haunted. He'd come home with the edge taken off, but not the need taken care of. Not fully. Never fully. The itch was always there, just sometimes more manageable if he'd let someone slap him around for a bit. The trips had been to someone who would do just that. But they didn't know him. Not really. He’d been the one to point out to Alex that he really wasn’t getting what he needed. Then, after an out-of-town trip that had left Alex with one too many bruises and scratches and a significant limp, Michael had begged him to let him help instead of continuing to go to someone who wasn’t treating him right.

"Just come to me for it," Michael had said, half order and half offer. Alex had scoffed initially. He hadn't thought Michael had understood what Alex actually wanted. Michael had leveled him with a glare and continued. "I don't like the idea of you going somewhere else for this. I don't like the idea of you trusting a stranger. And it's obvious it's not enough. Next time you have to scratch the itch, just come to me."

"Sure," Alex had agreed. He'd said 'sure’ like he meant 'not a chance'. Then he'd had a week of nights filled with nightmares. Caulfield, explosions, death, dismemberment, and ghosts plagued him whenever his body lost the fight to unconsciousness. The guy he'd been seeing was too far away and busy and Alex was almost trembling with the need for someone to bleed the tension out of him. So he'd called Michael just to see. Maybe he could do it. Maybe he could be enough until Alex could find another person or another way.

He’d never expected it to work, but he’d underestimated how well Michael knew him. Michael saw the way he seemed to bend towards harsh criticisms against him or his family. He saw how he warred with letting go of those terrible pieces of himself and holding onto them as tightly as if they were his security blanket. Michael had seen inside his mind and had rooted around for the most shameful things to use against him. Once Michael had figured out what he'd been going out of town to get, he’d made Alex an offer he couldn't refuse.

Alex stepped up into the old yellow school bus apprehensively. It sat near the Airstream in the junkyard, electric cables running to it and making it glow through the cracks. Michael had blacked out the windows with paint, making it look vaguely ominous in the blue hours of dusk. He wasn't sure what he'd find inside. What he found was a work in progress.

The cavernous space had been stripped of the seats and given a new floor. Michael had installed a drop ceiling down the middle of the bus and lined it with invisible lights around the edges. It made the ceiling dark, but the rounded walls and windows glow with subdued light. The effect was modern and sophisticated, and not at all what Alex would normally expect from Michael. Michael was watching him take in the bus's interior from a dark modular sofa that had been pushed along the side of the bus. He was wearing a loose, distressed pair of jeans and his ever-present plaid-over-tank combo. Alex felt his apprehension tighten the muscles in his back, but he pushed forward until he was standing in front of Michael looking down at him. He shoved his hands into his pockets and made a show of looking around the bus.

"So, starting an escort service?" Alex asked, watching for Michael's reaction.

"Maybe. Nothing wrong with sex work. It wasn't what I had planned for this space, but maybe there's a niche market for a mobile brothel in Roswell," Michael answered, spreading his arms over the back of the sofa and leveling Alex with a look. "I assume you didn't call to insult my decorating."

Alex scoffed. He shook his head slowly and gave Michael a wry smile.

"No. I guess I didn't," Alex replied. "So are we going to do this?"

"Sure. But sit down. We need to do some quick housekeeping," Michael said, waving to the empty space next to him. Alex sat and tried not to fidget. He didn't want to talk right then. He wanted to hurt and have the demons inside him go silent and be sated. Michael watched him silently, gaze intense and laser-focused to the point that Alex stilled himself, suddenly self-conscious.

"Okay. So, first I need to know what you want out of this," Michael started. Alex rolled his eyes, but Michael just kept looking at him, even and steady.

"I want… release," Alex bit out. He could feel a flush starting to heat the skin of his neck. This wasn’t what he wanted to talk about.

"I'm assuming you don't mean orgasm...well, or not just orgasm. How do you want me to give that to you?" Michael asked. Alex's knee bounced and he scratched his thumbnail over the inside of his palm, letting the sting settle him enough to answer Michael's question.

"Yes, orgasm would be nice. But, what I need isn't just physical. I want to… I need you to… I need someone to make me make my physically feel as shitty as I need mentally. I need someone to strip me bare and then flay me alive. I need to hurt. I need to feel… empty at the end of it. Quiet, ya know?" Alex explained. His thumbnail scratched over and over, dragging across the same spot. Michael's hand closed gently over his wrist, startling Alex out of his thoughts. Alex looked up to catch Michael's eye and felt Michael pull his hand away and lay it on his thigh before taking the hand Alex had been scratching and holding it in his own.

"Do you need this to be verbal or just physical?" Michael asked, carefully. Alex tried not to let his shame overwhelm him. He wanted both. He needed both so badly and he hated how weak that need made him feel.

"Both," Alex replied just as quietly. Michael waited for a moment before speaking again. Alex watched the gears turn behind Michael's eyes, but he didn't see any pity in his expression… or disgust. A small part of him was surprised. He'd expected one or the other.

"So, hard limits?" Michael continued. He had started to rub his thumb sweetly over the red line Alex had made in his palm. It was at once painful and soothing.

"Nothing permanent. No choking, for obvious reasons. No broken skin. Don't call me ‘soldier.’ Don't call me ‘son.’ Don't make me…" Alex broke off, suddenly feeling ashamed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Michael paused his thumb over the scratch and pressed down firmly. A bright flare of stinging pain gave Alex the resolution to continue. "Don't make me feel good about any of it til we're done. And I don't need aftercare."

"Aftercare isn't optional, Alex. Not for you, not for me. That's a hard limit of mine," Michael replied, voice low and serious. Alex stared at him before huffing out a little laugh.

"How would you know what your limits are? Have you done this before?" Alex asked, removing his hand from Michael's. Unconsciously, he'd started to turn his body more towards Michael's. One leg was folded in front of him on the couch seat, his prosthesis still resting on the floor of the bus.

"You're not the only person who's found themselves with a need that wasn't fulfilled by what was easily obtained. You're not the gatekeeper to kink. You were gone for ten years and I had plenty of time to experiment and learn on my own. Stop acting like just because I've never been off the continent, I'm a fucking narrow-minded moron." Michael's voice was sharp at the end, making Alex flinch internally. He couldn't imagine a world where Michael had explored BDSM or kink. He'd just assumed Michael was drinking and sleeping around like a college frat boy the entire time. It stung Alex that he hadn't even imagined Michael really living a full life without him. He always just thought of Michael biding his time, waiting on him, perpetually looking over his shoulder and waiting for Alex to appear on the horizon. What a selfish, egotistical dick he was to assume Michael had nothing better to do than cool his heels dreaming of an idolized version of Alex (the version of Alex that he wished he was in reality, that he tried to be and failed to be every single day).

"Sorry," Alex said after a quiet span of minutes where he manually adjusted his mental image of Michael Guerin.

"Try again, Alex. And look me in the face while you do it." Alex raised his head and looked at Michael. He looked older and calmer than he had a moment before. He looked like he was wearing all the years of his life on his shoulders and he was used to the weight of carrying them. Alex felt younger somehow. He felt chastened.

"I'm sorry, Michael," he repeated, keeping his eyes locked on Guerin’s. Michael nodded once before continuing.

"What's your safeword?"

"Finland," Alex replied without hesitation.

"Mine's ‘orbit.’ Are you okay with using the stoplight system?" Michael asked easily. Alex nodded.

"So, do you want a trial run tonight?" Michael asked.

Alex took a deep breath and nodded again before clearing his throat, knowing he had to speak it out loud. "Yeah, sure. Let's give it a go."

"So stand up and take off your clothes. I'll be right back," Michael said as he stood up off the couch. Alex stood also and waited for Michael to disappear behind a partition that presumably hid the way to the bathroom. Slowly, Alex undressed himself, feeling nerves and anticipation start to flutter behind his bellybutton. He folded his clothes and laid them on the couch. Before he had to figure out if Michael wanted him to be kneeling or not, Michael came back into the room. He'd stripped off his plaid shirt and was just in jeans and a tank. Alex watched him walk across the room and pick up a remote from one of the window ledges. He pointed it towards the ceiling and the lights turned from a warm golden light to an almost sinister red.

"Going to murder me?" Alex tried to joke. Michael gave him a quick grin.

"Want a different color? I've got the full range. We can disco through the whole pride flag if you want," Michael joked back.

"No. Red is fine," Alex assured him. While he spoke, Michael had discarded the remote back onto the window ledge and moved to stand in front of Alex. He reached up and brushed some of Alex's hair behind his ear, watching his own action contemplatively.

"So what brought this on tonight? What are you feeling?" Michael asked, eyes seeming to float back to meet Alex's while his hand rested on the side of Alex's neck, fingers gently playing with the too long curling pieces near the nape of his neck.

"Just… stuff. Nightmares," Alex mumbled, dropping his eyes and staring at the dark patch of chest hair that showed above the scoop collar of Michael's tank. He wanted to get started. He was doubting his decision to come. Why didn't Michael just do something already?!

"What would you tell your anonymous Dom in Albuquerque or Santa Fe if they asked?" Alex's eyes darted back up to meet Michael's and he scowled. Through tight lips, he managed to spit out an answer.

"They wouldn't have asked about why I needed it, they’d just give it to me."

"Well, you gotta give me something to work with here. What feeling is causing the nightmares?" Michael asked patiently. He let the knuckles of his left hand drag down the side of Alex's bare stomach, reminding him that he was standing naked in front of Michael while he stood there fully clothed. Maybe they should've just had sex. Maybe that would've been enough.

"Guilt. I feel… guilty about a lot of things," Alex finally confessed, shame filling his cheeks with heat and color. Michael nodded, almost to himself.

"Okay. I can work with that," he replied. Then his hands slid away from Alex's body and he stepped back. He let his eyes travel down every inch of Alex's skin and back up. "I thought I told you to get naked."

Alex furrowed his brow in confusion and looked down at himself. He wasn't wearing any clothes. Michael smiled and bent down slightly to tap at Alex's prosthesis. Alex looked at him, still confused.

"Take it off. I'm going to have you kneeling on a pillow when you're finished. Arms up and behind your head," Michael instructed. Alex sat back on the couch and began to remove the prosthesis. Michael produced a square floor cushion and sat it in the middle of the bus floor, then stood in front of it and waited on Alex to finish. The floor cushion was just far enough that Alex would have to crawl to get to it from the couch. Humiliation bloomed in his stomach, and his cock twitched with interest. Michael was testing him.

Lowering himself down from the couch, Alex crawled the short distance to the floor cushion and then began to arrange himself. He sat forward on his knees, widening them for easier balance, and then slowly he lifted his arms up and interlocked his fingers behind his head. He was bared for the cool gaze Michael was giving him, and it thrilled him how very vulnerable he was in the position he’d been asked to hold. He could and would hold the position easily, but Michael could also just as easily knock him to the ground if he chose to. Alex let his eyes lift only as far as Michael's best buckle, brain beginning to quiet and settle as he did so, and then he waited.

"Very good, Alex. You look good like this," Michael complimented with a slightly mocking edge to his tone. He made a slow half-circle to stand behind Alex so that Alex could see them. "So you're feeling guilty, huh? Think you need to earn your forgiveness? Want someone to take your penance out of your flesh?" Michael asked from behind him. Alex nodded briskly, not sure if he was allowed to speak. "What do you feel guilty for? Because I can't punish you for having dreams."

"Just… everything. I'm so angry at myself for not being over shit. For failing you, for failing my dad, for failing everyone," Alex choked out, feeling like fleeing but forcing himself to stay still.

"How did you fail me?" Michael asked, voice cool and impartial. Alex appreciated the lack of emotion. It helped him keep going. He wouldn't be able to continue if he could tell he was hurting Michael with his honesty.

"I always underestimate you. You’re better, smarter, and more capable than I think you are a lot of the time," Alex admitted. Michael hummed thoughtfully.

"How many hours of sleep do you think you've gotten this week, Manes? Sixteen? Twenty?" Michael asked. Alex did the rough mental math in his head. He cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Fifteen-ish," he answered. His lower back muscles were starting to quietly let themselves be felt as they were continually used to keep him upright, the muscles in his thighs and arms warming up from holding him still. He felt Michael step up close behind him, legs on the outside of his own and cool belt buckle pressing into the bottom of his interlocked hands. Michael's hands slid through the gaps between his arms and shoulders and smoothed down his chest before scratching back up, nails dragging red lines into his tanned skin. He shifted into the sting, wishing for Michael to scratch harder.

"Color?" Michael asked quietly as his hands once again smoothed down Alex's pecs.

"Green," Alex answered through a harsh breath as Michael scratched back up, but harder. The bite of pain had Alex gasping in surprise, and he felt his cock starting to plump up from the attention.

"How about I give you ten on your ass and give five to your balls? If you take your punishment good, I'll help you cum. Does that sound fair?" Michael asked, thumbs rubbing roughly over Alex's nipples. The low thrum of arousal was starting to build under Alex’s skin from Michael’s words. The low level sting from Michael’s nails was already starting to put him in the right headspace. He closed his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the rough push and pull of Michael’s fingers on him.

“Yes,” Alex agreed out loud. Michael brought his hands back up to rest on Alex’s shoulders. He bent close to his ear before speaking again. His breath was warm where it tickled over Alex’s skin.

“Then get on your elbows and knees. I want your ass higher than your head,” Michael instructed. Alex took a deep breath in and nodded before unclasping his hands from behind his head. Gingerly, he moved until his head was resting on top of his forearms against the floor. He tucked his knees under his hips and presented himself. He was keenly aware of how exposed he was. The cool air from the A/C unit fluttered over his backside. Michael hadn’t moved as Alex had gotten into position, so he could also feel the threat of someone lording over him. He could almost feel Michael’s eyes trailing over his naked skin, taking his time, mentally caressing every curve. After what felt like an eternity, Michael moved. He knelt down next to Alex’s side. When his fingertips started to skim down Alex’s side, it made him jump.

“None of that now,” Michael said, though his tone was soothing instead of harsh, like Alex was a spooked horse he was trying to calm. His hand continued stroking gently over Alex’s side and then down his back, around the curve of his ass and down his leg. The touch almost tickled and Alex had to fight not to flinch or shy away from the sensation.

“You always think you know better than me, don’t you, Alex?” Michael asked quietly. He shifted his body, moving further down Alex’s body and behind him. He started to use both hands to tickle over Alex’s back. When he got to his ass, though, Michael paused. Carefully, he spread Alex’s cheeks to look at his hole. A light touch of Michael’s thumb trailed down the center, barely glancing over Alex’s hole, and then down over his taint until Michael could cup Alex’s balls in his hand. He massaged them gently in his palm, pulling gently at the skin of his sack. Circling his thumb and forefinger around the base of Alex’s scrotum under his cock, he used the other three fingers to cup around the fleshy sack and began squeezing gently. Discomfort and heat prickled at Alex’s skin, making him whimper softly when Michael’s hand began to tighten and loosen in a slow rhythm. It wasn’t rough, wasn’t painful, but it was uncomfortable in the way that triggered his most primal instinct to escape. Alex stayed still and breathed deeply against his forearms. The feeling was mesmerizing, so it caught Alex off guard when Michael reached down with his free hand to stroke his cock.

“Fuck!” Alex burst out, shifting restlessly knee to knee. Michael held still as he settled. The electricity of that touch crackled along Alex’s nerve endings, pins and needles under his skin.

“Color?” Michael asked, not moving.

“Green,” Alex replied, feeling suddenly out of breath. Without warning, the hand that had touched Alex’s cock came down with a crack on one of his ass cheeks. This pain too was electric, but more like a quick strike of lighting, localized and bright. Alex swore, but tried to stay still.

“One,” Michael counted. His hand rubbed over the stinging skin before he removed it. A moment later, he was using it to loosely stroke over Alex’s cock. The hand around Alex’s balls tightened, again threatening the violence that Alex wanted. He moaned, wishing for more. “I was just never good enough for you, was I? But you kept coming back. Kept slumming it with the foster kid. Did you think I didn’t notice the way you kept me secret?”

Another slap against Alex’s ass, another sting, and another gentle caress by Michael’s hand over the heated skin. The next one came faster and harder than the first. Michael learned forward over one side of Alex’s back, the roughness of his jeans irritating and wonderful over Alex’s heated skin. He leaned close enough to be able to rest his chin on Alex’s shoulder.

“Two and Three. You’re an arrogant piece of shit sometimes, Alex. You’re wrapped up in classism, just like your father was. At least you can recognize that you’re a fucking asshole for it and that you deserve for someone to take you down a peg.”

He kept his voice calm and the words stung all the more for it. Alex held his breath against their effect until he couldn’t any longer and then let it out in a long, slow breath. Michael took his hand away from the base of Alex’s balls.

“Do you think you’re better than me, Alex? Smarter? Think you need to always be the white fucking knight for everyone?” Michael asked, fingers dragging up Alex’s perineum in a firm line.

“No,” Alex said, shaking his head. A hard crack sounded and fire lit up the previously untouched ass cheek. Alex felt a throb run through his body as the heat started to radiate. His cock hung heavy between his legs. He looked down the line of his body and could see it hanging, tip wet and threatening to drip onto the floor.

“Are you lying to me, Alex?” Michael asked, nails scratching over the abused spot on Alex’s ass. His voice was quiet, threatening, teasing and starting to make Alex feel unraveled. Alex shook his head weakly. Another lick of fire, another crack, and Alex was moaning into his forearms.

“I think you’re lying to me. You think I’m stupid, Alex? Your actions speak louder than words. You think you’re the only one in the room who's aware enough to notice other people. You think we don’t have you pegged? You think you’re better than your friends, your family and me and you always have, haven’t you?” Michael asked, right before pushing up off from Alex’s back to sit back on his heels. His hands came to rest on Alex’s waist, pulling him back to center Alex’s hips back over his knees and correct his position. A hand slid up Alex’s spine and then pressed between his shoulder blades. Alex followed the unspoken direction until his chest was resting on the floor. He laid his cheek against the cool flooring and closed his eyes, letting his mind sink into Michael’s words.

“We’re halfway through your ass punishment. Your skin is getting so pretty and pink for me. And your cock is making a fucking mess on my floor. You look so fucking shameless right now. It’s a good look for you, Alex. You just needed to be reminded of how good you look when you’re being put in your place,” Michael praised from behind him.

Michael’s hands slid back from Alex’s hips to grip his ass. Alex felt himself being spread wide, Michael’s thumbs pulling at the skin next to his hole gently. The feeling of something warm and wet hitting his pucker and starting to slide over his entrance confused Alex for only a moment until he realized Michael must’ve spit on him. Hot shame and arousal flushed through him at the mental image. One of Michael’s thumbs moved in and he massaged his spit over Alex’s hole, pressing firmly but not truly trying to penetrate. Alex groaned, pushing back against the pressure of Michael’s thumb, vainly wishing he’d open him up and fuck him. He wanted to feel pinned open under Michael’s cock.

“Maybe next time. If you’re good,” Michael assured him before he took his hands away. Alex shook with need. He needed pain or pleasure or words or something. He was rewarded with a quick series of slaps, two on each ass cheek, one right after the other, heavy enough to thud through his muscle. These weren’t the stinging, surface slaps of earlier. When Michael finished, his hands massaged roughly across the skin. Alex felt a dizzying rush of blood and emotion coursing through him a moment before he felt the warm wet of Michael’s mouth and the sharper sting of his stubble as Michael nipped and kissed over the abused cheeks. His final slap on one cheek was quickly followed by a sharp bite to the other. Alex cursed and his foot flexed against the floor, toes trying to dig against the hard surface as Michael used his jaw’s grip on Alex’s skin to coax a whine from Alex’s throat. Alex didn’t need to see the floor under his cock to know it was sticky with a pool of his arousal.

“Mmm,” Michael hummed, rubbing his stubbled cheek over his bite mark, sounding well-pleased. “So warm.”

“Michael, please,” Alex managed to choke out. Michael hummed again, but Alex felt subtle movement behind him. A moment later, Michael’s hand wrapped around Alex’s cock, wet and slick and tight. His hand slid up and down Alex’s shaft and it was all he could do not to hump forward into the pressure. It felt so fucking good. Michael was still rubbing his bristled chin and upper lip over Alex’s ass, mouthing at the inflamed flesh.

“You’re doing so good. I love hearing you beg, Alex,” Michael murmured against his skin. Alex almost didn’t hear him, his attention so wrapped up in the slick sounds and tight hole Michael’s fist was making for him. He was getting close, he could tell, but he knew he hadn’t finished his punishment. Abruptly, Michael let go of Alex’s cock and sat up. Alex wailed into his arms, eyes stinging at the loss. His cock ached where it swung, newly neglected and dripping between his legs.

“You still need to take the five to your balls. Then I’ll let you cum,” Michael reminded him, tone lazy. He said this while wrapping his hand around the base of Alex’s sack again and pulling back towards him. Alex whined at the stretch, his balls had been tightening close to his body in preparation for cumming and now Michael was stretching them away. He’d stretched them far enough that Alex could imagine they looked like two pink plums in Michael’s grip, skin tight over the swollen orbs, looking fit to burst. He felt Michael’s hot breath against them a moment before the blunt pressure of his teeth resting on either side of one of his balls. Some heady mix of fear and arousal shot through Alex’s body making him tremble, his stomach tightening and hips hitching forward. “So full. I bet you haven’t cum since your last trip to Albuquerque. Maybe I should make you wait longer, see how big of a load you’ll save up for me.”

“Please, Michael, I need…,” Alex started, only to yelp in surprise at the first three-fingered smack to his testicles.

“You need,” Michael started, voice harsh and admonishing; another smack, wringing out another, higher-pitched yelp from Alex, and then Michael continued, “to let me make the decisions here. I know what you need, Alex. I’ve got you all figured out. You need to stop,” SMACK! “Underestimating,” SMACK! “Me.” SMACK!

Alex's breath was heaving from his body. He didn’t even realize he was speaking until Michael was pulling him up to sit back onto his lap, hands around his waist to help support him and Alex’s back pressed against Michael’s chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Alex continued to mumble thickly. Michael was shushing him softly, arms tight and comforting around him, lips delivering soft kisses to Alex’s shoulder and neck. Alex’s cheeks were hot, his eyes tight, and he knew he was crying.

“I know you are, sweetheart. I know,” Michael murmured against his skin. Alex’s breath hitched under another sob. Michael gently maneuvered him to half turn so he could wipe at the tear tracks on Alex’s cheek and kiss the corner of his mouth softly. “You did so good. I know you’re sorry cause you followed all my directions and took your punishment. So good, baby.”

Alex found himself turning more until he could cling to Michael’s neck and hug his body close. Michael stroked one of his hands up and down Alex’s spine while the other combed through his hair. The new position trapped Alex’s aching balls and still-hard cock in between their bodies. The cotton of Michael’s shirt was irritating against Alex’s sensitive skin, but Alex couldn’t bear to pull back.

“Did you want me to help you cum, Alex?” Michael asked, nose gently bumping against Alex’s, lips a hair's breadth away. Alex took a deep breath in to steady himself before nodding. He moved forward, hoping to capture Michael’s mouth in a kiss. Michael let him, opening obligingly when Alex smoothed his inquisitive tongue along Michael’s lips. Michael let Alex kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. While they kissed, Michael’s hands wandered over Alex’s naked body until his hands came down onto Alex’s ass cheeks. Alex had almost forgotten about them until the flare of fire was reignited under Michael’s grip. The pain only served to excite Alex further.

“Michael, fuck me, please,” Alex begged, lips against Michael’s cheek as he pressed his body back into Michael’s strong grip.

“Not this time,” Michael responded gently. “But I’ll help get you off. You did so well, I can let you cum.”

“Please,” Alex said again, writhing softly in Michael’s lap to get some much-needed friction against his cock.

“So impatient,” Michael griped fondly. Removing one of his hands from Alex’s ass, Alex watched as he went to a previously unseen pump bottle of lube. He pumped twice and then brought his hand between their bodies and wrapped it around Alex’s cock. The lube was slick and sticky, and Alex immediately hitched his hips to push his cock through Michael’s grip.

“Oh, it’s like that?” Michael teased, tightening his grip to slow Alex’s quickening thrusts. Alex whined, hands flexing against Michael’s shoulders. Slowly, Michael started to move his tight-fisted hand over Alex’s cock. It was too tight for Alex to get off on it, but the edge of pain kept him hard and hoping. “If you keep acting greedy like this, I’m going to strap you down and edge you until you’ve learned some patience. Would you like that, Alex? Want me to keep you hard and begging for hours? Or do you want me to just make you cum until you’re dry and begging for me to stop?”

“Both, please,” Alex gasped out after a particularly cruel twist of Michael’s wrist. Michael loosened his grip then and paused, letting Alex catch his breath.

“You insatiable creature,” Michael praised. He kissed along Alex’s jaw to his shoulder where he bit harshly into the meat of Alex’s muscle. Alex groaned and tried not to writhe against the pain, but couldn’t seem to stop his body from rocking gently against Michael’s fist.

“That’s it. You can fuck my hand now.” He continued to kiss and bite Alex’s flesh after he said it, causing small fires everywhere his teeth touched. His mouth moved down from Alex’s shoulder to his chest, causing Alex to lean back. Alex held onto Michael’s shoulders tightly, but didn’t stop thrusting into Michael’s perfect, slick grip. Michael sucked Alex’s nipple into his mouth and let his teeth scrape over the sensitive flesh as he pulled his head back. Alex moaned and cursed at the feeling, throwing his head back. The tension in Alex was building quickly. He wanted so badly to cum, wanted to feel himself released from reality into oblivion if only for a few seconds.

“Please, Michael. Just a little tighter, please,” Alex managed to pant out. Michael kissed across his exposed throat.

“Show me, sweetheart,” he insisted. Alex pulled one of his hands from Michael’s shoulder and wrapped it over Michael’s. He squeezed until the pressure was perfect and then let go, replacing his hand on Michael’s shoulder. The hand that had been harshly kneading at Alex’s ass, encouraging his rolling hips and sloppy thrusts, came around to stack itself on top of the hand gripping him. Together they created a deep channel for Alex to thrust his cock into over and over again.

“Shit, shit, shit, Michael. I need to cum. Can I? Please?” Alex whined, even as he kept pushing his body towards the edge.

“Sure, darlin'. You can cum,” Michael said agreeably. Alex let go of any restraint, pressing close and letting his thrusts get quick and out of rhythm as he felt the pressure building behind his balls. When Alex was only a few thrusts away, Michael continued, “But I’m going to make you clean up the mess you make with your mouth.”

The last bit did it for Alex. With a strangled, silent yell, his cock swelled against Michael’s hands and then erupted white, sticky streams that dripped and smeared along the insides of his fingers and palms. When Alex was able to move, Michael let go of his slowly softening cock and Alex lowered himself onto his back on the floor. The coolness of it felt good against his overheated skin. Carefully, Michael crawled over him to straddle his stomach, careful of his oversensitive cock.

“Open up,” Michael demanded, tapping two sticky fingers against Alex’s lips. Obediently, Alex opened his mouth and felt Michael plunge his salty, spunk-covered digits in. Alex moaned at the taste of himself on Michael’s skin, using his tongue to trace every inch of skin to find more of his leftover pleasure. Michael made him lick and suck all of his fingers and then palms. When he was finished, he swooped down and took Alex’s mouth with his own, plunging his tongue in for any traces left for him to taste. When the taste dissolved into nothing they parted. Michael helped Alex up onto the couch, where he held Alex against his chest and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Want some water? Dinner?” Michael asked a little while later when Alex was practically dozing off against his chest where he was sprawled. Alex hummed noncommittally and nuzzled his head against Michael’s shirt, laying a kiss against his cotton-covered chest.

“How was it? Everything you expected?” Michael asked easily. Alex nodded, eyes still closed and mind still wrapped in a blanket of satiation.

“Anything you didn’t like or would like me to do differently next time?” Michael asked next. Alex thought about it. His hand drifted down to Michael’s crotch, completely covered, but still half hard from their scene.

“I want you to use this on me next time. Mouth, ass, hands, whatever. I want you to get off too,” Alex replied, voice drowsy but firm. He opened his eyes and locked eyes with Michael. His hand stayed resting over Michael’s crotch and he could feel it twitch against his palm. Alex raised an eyebrow in question. Michael smiled, bent his head down to kiss Alex’s mouth, and brushed his hand away.

“Next time. Promise,” Michael responded easily. Alex knew it wasn’t a real rejection, so he nodded and turned his head to lay it back down against Michael’s chest, his ear pressed to where he could hear the steady thumping rhythm of Michael’s heart. He drifted and with faint surprise, realized he was really falling asleep. He wondered how long Michael would let him lay like this if he fell asleep. Would he wake up to warm sunshine tomorrow morning? Would Michael only let him nap for a while and then wake him to get dressed so he could go home to his own bed? As if hearing his thoughts, Michael ran the back of a finger along Alex’s cheek bone.

“Do you want to sleep here, the Airstream, or your house?” Michael asked softly. Alex considered it.

“Let’s go to the Airstream. I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight,” Alex said through a yawn. Michael nodded and hugged his arms around Alex’s shoulders.

“Sure. Whatever you want,” Michael concluded. Alex only hummed a vague response before he was oblivious to anything else. He didn’t have nightmares that night.

#rnmafterdark2021 #rnmafterdark #rnm after dark #smutty #malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes

[jq37]

Maybe I'm also being animal racist, but a current guess I have for oMaM is that the rabbit Sly saw at the docks was actually the newspaper photographer who seems to be spending a lot of energy documenting Sly's movements at this party, and the bad lighting/state of intoxicated introspection led Syl to make a wrong assumption. (Also did you ever watch Hoodwinked? Spoilers: the reporter bunny did it)

lol hey guys. So I've been fairly MIA the past couple of weeks due to my job trying to actively murder me but I wanted to pop in for a hot second to talk about where we are theory-wise at this point in the season.

First of all, to address the actual ask, I feel like Brennan must have known Longfoot would be suspicious due to ~animal racism~ and put him in as a red herring and now we have even more info to back that up.

I suspect that what's going on with the stuff in the manor is a version of the Pepper's ghost illusion which involves mirrors to do ghostly projections and look pretty darn good for an effect that was invented hundreds of years ago. If you've ever ridden Haunted Mansion at Disney, that's the effect they use to do the waltzing ghosts (fun fact, because the effect mirrors the objects it's used on and the Imagineers forgot to take that into account, all of the female ghosts are leading in the dance!) But that's just fluff, let's talk plot.

So last week's ep threw a LOT of suspicion on Sly with him literally being painted at the villain and Grant doing absolutely nothing to defend himself. And, I'll admit, it would be pretty delicious to not only have Sly foreshadow it earlier with his coy, "Why yes, it also could have been me," and also that Grant himself would have [REDACTED] Rekha a SECOND TIME (watch the Murder Mystery ep of Game Changers if you don't know what I mean--it's my fave ep). But I talked it over with my watch buddy @camwritery and I don't think Sly is actually a baddie. I think this is a double double cross (Lol a cross from Mr. Cross). Here's my thought process.

(1) Yes there's that stack of letters Daisy found in Sly's hand but those easily could have been forged. I'd like Buck to take a look at those since he has that rogue handwriting checking ability.

(2) Squire Badger specially said something was coming to F Sly up and Sly could tell he wasn't the mastermind. Fletcher would make the most sense as to who the mastermind actually is. Like, it wouldn't be so much a twist to the audience but it would be a big ass twist to the CHARACTERS who thought he was fully dead (for the most part) and I feel like that matters more than "subverting expectations" or whatever. It's possible we find out it's actually another party guest I guess (or more likely, that some number of them are involved as accomplices) but Brennan said last week we've met all the characters and it's too late to introduce a new person at this point. And Fletcher is such a through line in Sly and Daisy's stories, it would be weird to not go for the payoff.

(3) So Fletcher is alive. We know this. What would a dead but not dead criminal mastermind want? To ruin his arch nemesis, obv. So, how do you do that? Maybe you fake the death of some mouse to create an unsolvable murder to drive him crazy? And then maybe you work with the person who the fake murder pissed off (because of Sly's inability to "solve" it) to ruin Sly because that guy hates Sly now? And maybe you involve some element of faking deaths in your plan because a faked death is what was central to the original plot that made Sly's reputation and ruined your family? That's so convoluted but this is a guy who handcuffed himself to his enemy and jumped off a waterfall. He's clearly a drama queen and he has nothing but time.

(4) I think Sly has figured this out to some degree and he's decided that letting himself get captured is the best option for him at the moment. Like, he didn't protest at all. Which, yes, checks out to his laidback, posh casual persona but I think he knows that if anything happens to anyone while he's locked up then it casts suspicion on someone besides him or it means the "murders" have to stop because no one will kill anyone while he's not active as a possible suspect due to literally not being able to murder anyone. Speaking of--

(5) Yeah, I don't believe these are murders. All those dead bodies from the list? Badgers, corvids, horned animals. That's the badger fam and their spouses. And the one guy we "knew" was dead also doesn't seem to be dead (which Brennan seeded from the start with Conor's widow hearing his voice which seems possible if she lives so close and he was alive this whole time). I guess framing Sly for a full family murder or something was the plan? But that doesn't quite check out because presumably they'd un-die at some point and I feel like they wouldn't want to live under assumed identities in animal Bavaria or something. I know news doesn't travel fast w/o the internet but they're prominent people. News would spread I assume. Maybe the death faking was to make Sly believe he was crazy? Or to believe in ghosts? Messing with a genius's mind is I'm sure one of the worst things you can do. There's also Buck's Frankenstein theory which is a little out there but they were trying crazy stuff with electricity and dead bodies back in the day. Kind of a wild pull but cam sent me this about a Dr. Squires from the same-ish time period shocking someone back to life. It would be wild and now we have some alt explanations for the electricity but gotta explore all options. And this would Constance to call her dad a madman, lol.

(6) Grant/Sly has a lot more info than us with all those maddening redacted texts so it's very likely he has some long game happening we know nothing about. I wondered if he might have known about Fletcher for a while--when Daisy revealed he was alive he was surprised but I don't remember if he was surprised that he was alive or if it was ambiguous and it might just be that he didn't tell her. I assumed he didn't know at all (because I feel like that's what Brennan narrated in episode 1) but I need to go back and check.

(7) At the end of the day, D20 is a show that rewards love and friendship over betrayal and the like. This very much could be the first season with a real betrayal but I'm kinda skeptical. Sly could just be a big faker but he seems genuine to me. Also, what would his motive even be here? This doesn't seem like his style and I don't know why he'd do this.

(8) Lars failed their check on purpose and Ian saw full puppydog earnestness. Sly if you've been a bad guy this whole time and Lars didn't know, bitch I'll kill you

(9) Not really on topic but I want to note, Daisy's find of that second trick portrait makes me thing my theory was correct and there's a third somewhere. I wonder where.

(10) Even less on topic but the "Show Her Your Butt 2: Electric Boogaloo" sequence last week made me spit soda everywhere and I think that should be acknowledged.

#mice and murder #mice and murder spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 #asks #madamxpresident

[beautiful-bau-beau]

Could you please write an imagine where the reader is a waitress that Reid has fallen in love with, and he's been trying to keep it a secret from the team but they find out about her and insist on coming to the restaurant with him to meet her and they tease him a lot about it but it's okay cause she's in love with him too and she finds the whole thing hilarious and adorable and they end up together.

Wax Wings

You can read it as a stand-alone, but it’s a part 2 to Couldn’t Help But Melt!

Spencer Reid x gender nuetral!reader

Contains: Fluff

Masterlist

-

After you had given him your number, he had tried his hardest not to call. He knew that if he blew you off you would most likely never speak to him again and therefore, be safe. You would be able to live a life without having to worry about his safety, growing angry at missed dates or appointments, fearing going out in public just in case you ran into a criminal. 

Yet, despite the hard facts, his heart had somehow taken control of his brain and caused him to throw caution to the wind. It had only been a day of resisting temptation before his fingers pressed your number into keypad of his flip phone, and he cursed at how easily he was willing to endanger your life. But as soon as his ears were met with your buttery voice, he knew he was a damn fool not to call you earlier. 

Your first date was one for the books. What you had interpreted as “going to the theatre” turned out to be a reenactment of the 19 century Phantasmagoria. 

“Oh. I thought when you meant theatre it was supposed to be a play of some sort.” You looked around the lobby of the theatre as Spencer handed the teller his tickets.

“Well, technically, it is. It’s a form of horror theatre that projects skeletons, demons, ghosts and other such creatures onto walls, with techniques that make the image easy to move around or to change size. The shows started under the guise of seances in the late 18th century, particularly in Germany but gained popularity in the 19th century all throughout Europe. Some shows even use certain smells, electric shock, fasting, or drugs to enhance the experience for the viewer.” He caught your questioning glance and pinked, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Not that this show practices any of those methods, you are completely safe, I swear.“ 

You started to laugh, covering your mouth with your hands as to not draw too much attention to yourself. Spencer watched you nervously, wondering if he had done something wrong.

“I’m sorry. I should have asked first if this would be something you’re interested in before purchasing the tickets but I was just…. overhasty, I guess, at your request to plan the date. Looking at it now… this seems as if it is not the most romantic gesture I could have planned.” His cheeks pinked and he started to panic. “We can go somewhere else. Anywhere else!” He offered, surprised at you shaking your head.

“Spencer, no one I’ve ever dated has ever brought me to anything quite like this. This seems so much fun! And hey, if I get scared you can do that cheesy thing where you wrap your arm around me, hmm?” You smiled, taking his hand in yours. “Lead the way!”

Spencer’s mouth twitched, heart thumping wildly in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you right where you stood, but there was time for that. He couldn’t rush. He squeezed your hand softly, tugging you inside the dark theatre to find your seats.

Eventually Spencer had given you that toe-curling, leg-popping, dreamy kiss that he had wanted to, and from then on, your relationship was like a dream. Of course there were the days where you had the late shift and he was out of town, sometimes for weeks at a time, but as soon as the two of you reunited it was as if he never left. 

You had been dating him for quite a few months now, but still had yet to say those three little words. There was the issue of not meeting any of his friends or coworkers, whom he spoke so much about. It made you wonder if he was ashamed of you, a lowly waitress dating a Supervisory Special Agent of the Behavioral Analysis Unit.  

Turns out it was quite the opposite.

-

“Suspect is on the move.” Prentiss whispered to her phone as she stalked the subject in question. “He doesn’t seem to be in any rush. Perhaps we’re mistaken?”

“Prentiss you know as well as I that our margin for error is quite small.” Hotchner replied, irritation lacing his tone. “Garcia, Morgan, you got eyes on the victim?”

“We have eyes.” Derek confirmed. He and Garcia were posing as a couple as to not arouse suspicion. 

“How about you, JJ? Rossi?" 

"We can see Emily, and the suspect.” Rossi replied adjusting his position in the car he and JJ were sitting in. 

“Great, I’m on my way to the rendezvous point. Meet you all there.” Hotchner commanded, effectively ending the call. 

“They’re pretty.” Garcia lowered the menu in front of her to meet Morgan’s eyes. “I am still so frustrated at the fact that Spencer kept the fact that he had a significant other hidden from his very best friends! What are we, just co-workers? The nerve!” She hissed, quieting once she saw you approach the table.

“Are we ready to order?” You plastered on your customer service smile, pen and paper ready to jot down their orders.

“Actually, we’re just waiting on more members of our party.” Morgan explained, craning his neck to eye the door. The pair had chosen a large table near the back of the restaurant to stay out of sight. “But I’ll take a water, please.”

“Me too!” Garcia chimed, trying to take in all the details of your appearance. You nodded, placing your notepad back in your apron.

“No problem! I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes.” You swiftly turned on your heel, almost bumping in to a tall, broad man. You muttered an apology, heading back to the kitchen.

“Is that them?” Hotchner asked, pulling out a chair next to Morgan.

“It has to be, they’re the only person who’s working that doesn’t have a wedding ring on their finger. Unless Spencer proposed and didn’t tell us that as well!” Garcia fumed.

“Baby girl, I don’t think Spencer would be the type to propose without telling us.” Morgan tried to calm her but she clearly wasn’t having any of it.

“Who knows what he’s capable of hiding? What next, a secret love child?” She whispered, lifting her menu back up.

“JJ and Rossi decided to pass Prentiss, whose ETA is 7 minutes.” Hotchner ignored Garcia’s ramblings, picking up a menu for himself and surveying the options. “They should be here…” The automated doorbell chimed as the pair entered the diner. “Now.”

“Penelope,” JJ approached the group, taking a seat next to the woman and placing a comforting hand on her back. “How are you holding up?”

“I’ve decided he’s uninvited for my Winter Solstice party. And Christmas. And New Years. If I find out he’s lying about anything else he will not be receiving an invitation for my Valentine’s Day Soiree, that’s for damn certain.”

“Don’t be too harsh on the kid.” Rossi chuckled, scanning the perimeter. “So who’s exactly our "victim” here?“ He lifted his fingers, finding the usage of police jargon in this case quite hilarious.

Morgan turned, eyes catching your figure. "2 o'clock. My 2 o'clock." 

"When you turn to face them we both have the same 2 o'clock.” JJ sighed, passing Rossi a menu.

“Good for Spencer.” He whistled, reaching for the booklet when his phone buzzed. “Prentiss says he’s walking through the door.” The chime went off again, prompting the team to quickly pick up their menus to cover their faces.

“Hey!” You greeted, giving him a swift peck on the cheek before he sat on one of the stools at the counter. “It’s a little busy tonight but I should be off in…15 minutes? Then we can head to dinner." 

"That’s alright, I’m in no hurry.” Spencer smiled, leaning his head on his fist, staring at you with that wistful gaze that made your heart melt.

“I’ll be back! If you want anything, let me know.” You ruffled his hair, grabbing a water jug from the counter and heading back to the crowded tables. 

Prentiss came in through the side entrance, not wanting Spencer to spot her accidentally. She shrugged off her coat and took the last empty chair, quickly hiding her face with a menu. 

“2 o'clock.” JJ nudged, tilting her chin in your direction. Prentiss took a moment to eye your figure before nodding to herself. Good for Spence.

“Garcia?” Prentiss mumbled.

“Uninvited from Winter Solstice, Christmas, New Years, and maybe Valentine’s Day.”

“Sound about right.” Prentiss assessed. “He’ll be paying for this for a long time." 

"Hello!” You chirped startling the team, filling Morgan’s and Garcia’s glasses with ice water. “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

While waiting for you, Spencer was lost in thought, wondering exactly how he was going to tell you that he loved you over dinner. Should it be before we order? During the meal? Perhaps he would tell you before you even reached the restaurant, in your apartment while he waited for you to get changed. He wanted it to be perfect.

Of course, he realized, as much as he wanted to tell you, he was aware that something was missing. You had introduced him to all your friends, and he had yet to do the same. He was unsure of how to tell the team after so long. They would be furious if he broke the news he was dating someone after months of being in a relationship, so he kept putting it off. This was only adding to the problem, but he was unsure of what to do. He figured he could tell Morgan soon enough, see how he reacted, and then tell each of the team individually.

Your cheerful voice brought him out of his stupor and he searched to find you. You wore a smile, but were clearly antsy to get off your shift. He was about to turn back to the counter when he observed that a man from the table you were at almost looked like Hotchner.

Wait a minute… that was Hotchner!

What are they doing here?! Spencer thought, leg starting to jiggle against the metal framework of the stool. He waited until after you poured their respective waters, took their orders, and collected their menus before heading over to the table.

“What are you guys doing here?” He hissed, resting his hands on the table.

“Excuse me sir, do we know you?” Prentiss asked, crossing her arms. “You almost look like a friend of ours, but that friend wouldn’t hide the fact that he’s in a relationship, now would he Garcia?”

“Well, our associate is so complicated… who knows what he’s capable of.” Penelope raised her brows, giving him a pointed glance.

“So you guys…”

“We already figured out Y/n is your partner. Morgan brought up your irregular behavior, and Garcia looked through your credit card reports to find that you spend an awful lot of time at this place. Prentiss informed us that you have started exiting the subway at a different stop than usual, not to mention, facial recognition scanners from a social media account one can assume is Y/n’s… it was not that hard to put all the pieces together.” Hotchner explained, taking a sip from his glass.

“When were you planning on telling us, young man?” Rossi asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Soon! I swear I just… I didn’t know how to tell you guys.” Spencer admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

“ ‘Hey JJ, I have a girlfriend,’ might have been a good place to start.” The blonde female pointed out, sighing.

“It’s not as simple as that I-”

“Spence?” You asked, approaching the table. “Do you uh, know these folks?”

“Oh, Y/n! Hi! Yeah I know these people…” Spencer smiled, clearly caught off guard.

“And how exactly do you know my lovely customers?” You gestured with your hand for him to explain.

“Y/n… um… these are… these are my friends. They were so excited to meet you, they rushed down here without telling me. I know you’ve been asking to meet them… so here they are.” Your expression instantly changed, a genuine smile overtaking your face. Garcia went to interject, when Rossi raised his hand. Play along.

“You work at the BAU with Spence? I’m so happy to meet you guys! I just- We were going to go to dinner… What if we just stayed here? I should be able to get off, and I won’t even have to change!” You gave Spencer a pleading look, and he nodded. At least he hadn’t made reservations… 

The rest of the evening was spent in laughter, you getting to talk to each member of the team and hear work stories that weren’t related to cases. After you had all parted ways, Spencer offered to walk you home.

“And that one story Aaron told about your "science-magic”? Priceless! You looked so embarrassed.“ You laughed into the night sky, breath forming cloudy puffs as you spoke. Your hands were intertwined, and Spencer felt his heart stutter.

"I’m so glad you finally introduced me to your friends! I thought… well, I was wondering why it was taking so long to get a proper introduction.” You mumbled.

“I’m sorry I just… I didn’t tell them we had started to date. At first, you were this secret I wanted to keep all to myself. But then weeks turned to months and then I found myself falling n love with you and it felt so wrong to just spring it on the team that I had met this amazing person and fell in love when they didn’t even realize I was dating yet.” He explained.

“You love me?” You asked, stopping where you stood.

“I uh, what?” He laughed, backpedaling his speech until he realized what you were referring to. “Oh um… I wanted to tell you tonight, over dinner. This is perhaps the opposite of how I wanted to tell you actually, I mean, there were going to be candles, and breadsticks- I know how much you like breadsticks and I- oomph!” Spencer’s ramblings were cut short when you pulled him into your embrace, kissing him softly.

“I love you too, Spencer.” You smiled as you pulled apart. “I love you too.”

—-

buzz buzz

“Hey baby girl what’s-”

“He told them he loved them!” Garcia’s rushed cries echoed throughout the receiver. “He told them he loved them and told me so he could invite them as his plus one to all the parties! Derek, Derek! This is huge.” Morgan softly chuckled on the other end of the line.

“Well… what do you know?”

#Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid x Reider #Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer Reid imagines #Spencer Reid/Reader #Spencer Reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fanfictions #Spencer reid fanfiction #reader-insert #beautiful-bau-beau #beautiful bau beau #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagines #Criminal minds x reider #Criminal Minds fanfictions #Criminal minds imagine #Criminal Minds reader insert #Criminal Minds x reader #Criminal minds/reader #gender-neutral reader-insert #gender neutral

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr | Also on AO3

Chapter 58: Jon Prime

Eleven months. Eleven months since Jon had come back in time, since he’d knocked on Tim’s door, since he’d had Martin in his arms again. Eleven months of regrouping, of planning, of worrying and fearing and hoping in equal measures. Eleven months, almost to the day, to the minute. All of it leading to this.

It was worth it for the look on Elias’s face when he spun around to face him.

In the entire time Jon had worked for the Institute, and especially since taking the Archivist position, he had never once seen Elias anything but calmly, coolly, smugly in control. Occasionally angry, although he’d more heard that than seen it when he listened to the tapes much later, but still, whatever emotions he might have been feeling, his bearing had always suggested that he held the upper hand and knew it. Now, though, there was none of that in his expression. For the first time Jon had ever seen, Elias Bouchard looked as though the situation had got away from him somewhat. His eyes—Jonah’s eyes—were wide with alarm, his jaw was slack, and even if he didn’t look afraid—yet—he was definitely at the very least taken aback. It was a start.

“Jon? What are you doing here?” he demanded. “You should be—” He stopped and inhaled sharply as he scanned Jon’s face, probably noticing the worm scars if not how much more grey was in his hair than his counterpart’s. “You’re not Jon.”

“Oh, but I am,” Jon replied. He was keeping his powers in check, but barely; he could feel the static building in his veins, thrumming and crackling like electricity through a power grid, and while he wanted to unleash it on the man before him, he couldn’t just yet. It was too much of a risk with Martin so close. “Just not the Jon you think I am.”

“What—no.” Jonah—there was no doubt it was Jonah Magnus regarding him now—turned pale. “You’re not—no. How can this be? Tell me!”

Jon tsked. “That was never your gift, Jonah. Compelling people. The Eye gave you the ability to pry, to pluck secrets out of heads and put secrets in…but you don’t get to ask for them, do you? You are no Archivist.”

There was definitely a part of him that was enjoying this more than he should. It wasn’t the power over Jonah he thrilled to—he’d never been the megalomaniac sort—but he definitely relished not being the one at a disadvantage for once. He’d spent years as little more than a pawn in Jonah’s game, and it was refreshing to be, if not a queen, at the very least a knight. It was satisfying more than anything.

But satisfaction wasn’t the goal. Victory was.

Jonah pulled himself together and drew himself up. Jon had to give him some credit—it obviously cost him a good deal of effort, both mental and physical. Martin had thrown him for a loop, probably several times, and then Jon had appeared from behind and totally disorientated him. Beyond that, Jon had seen, when he crept up behind him, the large dark stain surrounding the tear on the back of his usually immaculate charcoal suit. Melanie may have only pretended to actually try and kill him, but she’d certainly done a number on him anyway.

“Jon, I do not have time for these games,” he began.

“On the contrary. We have all the time in the world.” Jon took a half-step back and to the side, away from both the soft part in the wall that led, more or less, to the Institute and the tunnel where Sasha and Melanie had secreted themselves.

As he’d hoped, Jonah took the bait, taking a full step towards him and away from Martin. He had two inches on Jon and obviously intended to use them to the utmost effect in an attempt to intimidate and cow Jon. It was the same thing he’d done after the Apocalypse, when he’d stood over Jon and belittled him,  making him shrink in on himself and bow under the weight of his own folly and shortcomings, highlighted all the places where it had been Jon’s decisions that led to that point.

Things were different now. Jon knew himself, he knew what his capabilities were as well as his limitations. And just as importantly, he had the evidence of his own eyes when he looked at Past Jon. Yes, Jon had made choices that led to the Apocalypse, but they’d been made with the limited information he had—information that had been limited because of Jonah. When he had all the data, he made much better decisions. Knowing, as they said, was half the battle.

In this case, perhaps, Knowing was all the battle.

Jon spared a quick glance for Martin. His smirk was almost a match for Jon’s own, and his eyes sparkled in a way Jon hadn’t seen in a long time. He stood tall and confident, shoulders squared and chin raised, and he still had a tight grip on the knife Melanie had pressed into his hand. He was also still far too close to Jon and Jonah, and not near enough to where he needed to be.

“Martin, get back. I don’t want you getting hurt,” he told him.

“Really, Jon, I don’t know what you think is going to happen,” Jonah said stiffly. “Whatever the issue is, we can settle it like gentlemen.”

“Ha!” Melanie’s disgusted laugh floated from the side. Jon looked over quickly to see her and Sasha crouched right in the entrance of the tunnel they’d found him in, arms linked tightly. Melanie’s other hand had a death grip on the rough stone of the tunnel’s arch. Jon knew exactly why. He’d heard the near-ethereal music, too, followed it down the tunnel, and realized the stone was ringing faintly with the tune from Denikin’s Calliophone, as though it were one of the pipes of the organ. If Sasha and Melanie hadn’t tumbled into him and told him they were ready for him, there was no telling how far he might have gone. Or how lost he might have been.

Something flickered over Martin’s face, but he did as Jon requested, taking three careful steps backwards until his heels hit the edge of the tower at the center of the Panopticon. He reached out with his free hand and steadied himself against it, then nodded once.

Jon stole another half-pace backwards, luring Jonah a little farther away from the others. “Settle this like gentlemen? You must be joking. What exactly do you think is going to happen? That you’re going to convince me to—to walk away from this? To just let it go?”

“You walked away from the Unknowing,” Jonah said tartly. “You left Tim alone to it with two people who, I am sure, could not possibly care less whether he lives or dies. And despite this—” He ran his eye over Jon’s face disdainfully. “—this getup, we both know that you walked away from Jane Prentiss and left Martin alone to her.”

Oh. That was a low blow. Jon stiffened, his rage nearly choking him. Despite knowing that it wasn’t true—that it hadn’t been true in either timeline—just the fact that Jonah would look him in the eye and even imply that he was the sort to abandon his people was enough to leave him momentarily speechless. And the fact that Jonah believed, or pretended to believe, that Jon would abandon Martin of all people…

He was about to explode, to start yelling, to reach out and strangle Jonah Magnus with his bare hands, when Martin started laughing. It was somewhere between the way he’d laughed when Jon had floated the idea of gouging their eyes out and running away together and the way he’d laughed when they’d been playing I Spy in the tombs. He sounded both incredulous and amused.

“You still have no idea, do you?” he said. “You still think you know what’s going on. This must really be embarrassing for you. Having to wait for an explanation.”

It was the last word that did it for Jon, grounding him and enabling him to recenter himself. Even if Martin’s voice hadn’t been enough, the reminder was. Once upon a time that no longer was, Jonah Magnus had forced Jon to monologue for him, forced him to recite his deeds and his plan before using him as a tool to trigger the end of the world. He had manipulated Jon at every turn, and then manipulated him once more at the end. And that was exactly what he was trying to do here. He was trying to goad Jon into doing something rash, into lashing out at him and tipping his hand too far.

He still thought he could win.

Jon didn’t take a deep breath; he wouldn’t give Jonah the satisfaction of knowing he’d rattled him. But he did square his shoulders and let his lips curl into a sneer. “I know you can’t look into my head, Jonah. But can’t you guess? Even if your master won’t give you the answers, can’t you even attempt to figure them out on your own?”

Anger flashed in Jonah’s cold grey eyes, and Jon knew he’d scored another point. There would be no grading of this exam—it was strictly pass/fail—but the more he could build things up on his side, the easier it would be. He hoped. “Don’t prevaricate, Jon. This is hardly the time. Either tell me what you think you are doing, or allow me to get back to watching the people you should be watching.”

“The Jonathan Sims you employ is at the Unknowing,” Jon told him coldly. “Along with the Martin Blackwood you employ. I was that Jonathan Sims, once, but not now. I am from the future, Jonah Magnus. A future that is not and will never be.”

“If you are trying to make a joke—”

Jon ran the backs of two fingers over his cheek, indicating the worm scars. “Jane Prentiss, twenty-sixth July, 2016.” He touched his side. “The Distortion, otherwise known as Michael, second October, 2016.” He held out his right hand, palm outward, and notched another point in his credit when Jonah flinched, almost imperceptibly. “Jude Perry, twenty-fourth April, 2017.”

Jonah’s eyes widened—and then, not entirely to Jon’s surprise, a slow smile crossed his face. “The Corruption, the Spiral, the Desolation. And that scar at your throat—yes, I saw that. The Slaughter?”

“The Hunt. Daisy Tonner, twenty-eighth April, 2017.” Jon pulled aside the collar of Martin’s sweater—not the green one he’d worn since Martin wrapped him in it for comfort after he ended the world or the soft blue one that Martin wore more often than any other because Jon had complimented him on it without thinking long before either of them knew they would end up together, but the slightly lopsided red one that was Jon’s new favorite, because it was the one Martin had patiently worked on while Jon read statements to feed himself, the one that was proof he didn’t really need to be able to see to knit. “This is the Slaughter. Melanie King, twenty-fifth February, 2018.” He let the collar fall back into place and smoothed it out carefully. “The others don’t show.”

“But you have them all.” Jonah’s smile broadened. “It worked. The ritual was a success, and you came back…thinking you could stop me.”

“Well done, Jonah,” Jon said, in the same voice one might otherwise use with a child who had successfully tied his own shoes for the first time. “That’s all absolutely correct.”

“Oh, Jon.” Jonah’s voice took on an almost pitying tone. “And you thought telling me that would mean…what, exactly? You think it won’t work now? That you’ve warned your—counterpart, and now he can escape it? He has three marks already, at least.”

Behind Jonah’s shoulder, Martin silently held up his free hand, displaying all five fingers. Jon swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat as he realized Martin was right. Apart from the two he’d had before they arrived—the Web and the Eye—and being stabbed by and later traveling through the halls of the Distortion, Past Jon had been kidnapped and essentially tortured by the Stranger, and his encounter with Julia and Trevor in America was probably enough to give him a mark from the Hunt.

“And even if he escapes,” Jonah continued, oblivious to what was going on behind him, “there are still the others. Even knowing, it’s unavoidable, Jon. Fear comes for us all, in whatever guise it wishes, and the Institute is a lure many of them cannot resist. They will be marked, and when they are—”

“No,” Jon interrupted, and this time he let the static crackle through his voice. “They may be marked, Jonah Magnus, but it will not be to your advantage. This ends here.”

Jonah sneered, but Jon had already seen the flash of fear in his eyes. “You think you’ve learned enough to stop me? I have two hundred years of experience and Knowledge. What do you bring to the table? A few tricks? This cheap attempt at intimidation? You cannot overpower me, Jon. Not now when I can see my triumph within my grasp. Thwart me, and I will simply find another.”

“Oh, no.” Jon took another diagonal step, turning his shoulders as he did so; as he expected, Jonah followed him. “There will be no one else. Not from you. Never again.”

“How, exactly, do you intend to stop me?” Jonah demanded, drawing himself up.

Jon snorted. “I had considered taking you out the way you took out one of the others. I considered shooting you. Like you did to Gertrude.” He swallowed hard. “And Martin.”

“I never—ah.” Jonah’s unpleasant smile smeared across his face again. “Yes, I suppose that would be quite effective in slowing you down, wouldn’t it? If I were to—take him out, shall we say?” He slipped one hand under his jacket.

“You don’t have it with you,” Jon said with contempt. “I don’t even need the Eye to know that. If you had brought your gun, you wouldn’t have bothered trying to get into Martin’s head. Not once you were down here. After all…” He waved one hand around the room. “Who would be here to witness? Only the Eye.”

“Perhaps I think he’s too useful to kill,” Jonah said.

Jon curled one hand into a fist and fought back the anger and nausea the way Jonah’s voice curled around the word useful brought up. He had to keep it together. Had to keep this going. “I could have beaten you to death, too. Like you did Jurgen Leitner. And framed me for.”

Again he took a half-step back, rotating slightly this time, and again Jonah followed. Jon glanced at Sasha, her eyes glittering with excitement and interest even from that distance, and raised his eyebrows in silent question. She nodded once. Jon blinked his acknowledgment and swiftly returned his gaze to Jonah. He’d managed it right. He now had the tunnel to the Institute at his back and the Panopticon at his front. He was directly between the two access points for the Beholder. He had Jonah exactly where he wanted him.

“Jurgen Leitner?” Jonah repeated. “That pompous ass?”

Martin and Melanie’s snorts were nearly identical. Jon didn’t bother to repress his smirk. “He’s living in those tunnels, you know. Has been for years. He used to help Gertrude out, too. He was going to tell me some of those details you thought my counterpart didn’t know, and I wasn’t knowledgeable enough to shield my thoughts enough that you didn’t know I was talking to someone. You slipped in while I was out of my office, tormented him the same way you did Gertrude, and beat him to death with a length of pipe. Left the body there. Of course Daisy thought I’d done it.”

“It would have been quite difficult for me to use you if you were in prison.”

“Oh, you made it clear that you didn’t actually think I’d done it. But you certainly brought me to Daisy’s attention. Dangled me in front of her. You knew she would come after me eventually, knew it would mark me. You used her as much as you used the rest of us, long before she joined the Institute.” Jon met Jonah’s eyes. It was far easier than it had ever been before. “Never again, Jonah. I will never allow you to use anyone for your evil purpose again. You don’t deserve the power you want to wield.”

“You could join me, you know,” Jonah offered.

Jon almost choked. “What?”

“Join me,” Jonah said again, and if Jon thought for a minute that Elias Bouchard was the type, he’d have expected the next sentence to be something along the lines of Together we can rule the galaxy as father and son. “You’ve seen the world, Jon. The world we created, in your time. You know how very beautiful it can be. Rulers together of a forsaken world. Overseers of all. Imagine it. You could choose who lived and died. Control how much suffering was inflicted on those who suffered. You know what that fear feels like when it flows through you…imagine controlling it, drinking the whole world. I know you wouldn’t be here if you had had that power. You would never have wanted to leave it.” He spread his hands out invitingly towards Jon. “We would live forever. Imagine it, Jon. It would be so easy, and so rewarding. All you need to do…is say the words.”

Martin’s face went white as a sheet. Those freckles that hadn’t been bleached to pale shadows by the Lonely stood out clearer than Jon had seen them in ages, and his lips parted slightly. The naked fear in his sightless eyes was almost physically painful. He was scared, worse than he’d been in a long time.

And something seemed to tighten around Jon’s wrist.

Martin knew Jon better than anybody in the universe, maybe better than Jon even knew himself. He knew how close to the edge Jon had been at times, how close he’d come to succumbing to the Eye and becoming its conduit. How hard Jon had fought to keep from becoming like Jude Perry, like Mike Crew, like Jared Hopworth. And he knew just how hard Jon was tempted at times to give in, how much Jon wanted to know what would happen if he did. How tired he got sometimes of the constant daily struggle. He alone, out of anybody, knew that there was a part of Jon that wanted to say yes.

But not enough of one. Not nearly enough of one. There was no temptation in the world strong enough to lure him away from Martin, nothing in the universe he wanted more than to spend whatever time he was granted with the man he loved. Martin had promised to kill him if he ever came close to agreeing to what Jonah was proposing, and Jon had sworn to himself then and there that he would never force Martin to make that call. He knew that Martin would never be able to live with himself if he did. And Jon loved him too much to hurt him that way if there was any other option.

But Martin couldn’t see his face. For all he knew, Jon was seriously considering the offer. Jon would have to reassure him.

“If you think,” he said, “for one moment that I would agree to that knowing what it would mean, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought you were. And that, Jonah Magnus, is saying something.”

Martin drew in a sharp breath and closed his eyes for a brief moment, then seemed to relax. Jonah’s smile melted away. He opened his mouth to say something. Jon didn’t give him the chance. “I have seen your ‘forsaken world’, and I have seen what it cost everyone who lived in it. I have felt the pain and suffering of those within it, and I know that there is no one, Watched or Watcher, who escaped that pain and suffering. Even those who thought they wanted it, in the end, found they did not. Even you would have learned that, sooner or later.” He narrowed his eyes at Jonah. “And I would sooner gouge my own eyes out, here and now, than share any kind of power with you.”

Jon again saw the cold, pale fury in Jonah’s eyes that he had last seen when Martin defied him after the Apocalypse, but this time it didn’t go away. “That can be arranged.”

“I don’t think so.” Jon felt the static building up again, and this time, he didn’t try to hold it back. “Your time has come.”

Power thrummed through his veins. It was the way he’d felt when facing down the Not-Them both times, when he’d struck down Jared Hopworth, when he’d caught hold of Helen’s lie, but somehow it was stronger. Again he felt that tightening around his wrist, and he could feel a power flowing through that as well, fueling him, giving him strength and courage.

“For two hundred years, you have sat atop your ivory tower and pretended to rule,” he said. The words came easily, leading Jon to wonder if he was saying them or the Ceaseless Watcher was. “You have set yourself up as a god among men, and you have believed yourself to be untouchable. You have manipulated and pulled and lured, and through it all, you have believed yourself to be endearing yourself to your master. But It Knows You, and it Knows that it is not fear you have feasted on all these years, merely power over others. You have desired only your own ends and served no one but yourself.”

He was aware of an echo to his voice, as though someone else was speaking the words with him. At first he thought it was just that, an echo, or maybe the Beholder resonating through him, but he recognized the second voice for what it was at about the same moment Jonah’s eyes widened, and the fear in them wasn’t fleeting. It was Gertrude Robinson’s voice joining Jon’s, maybe prompting him, maybe lending her power to his. Maybe it was just a manifestation of his power after all, enhancing Jonah’s fear.

Jon could taste that fear. It was exhilarating and intoxicating. Whatever was around his wrist seemed to tighten further, reminding him that it was there, reminding him of what he was trying to do. Keeping him grounded. In that instant, Jon recognized it as a manifestation of his bond to Martin, the one Annabelle Cane had enhanced, and it gave him a renewed sense of conviction.

“Two hundred years of pain and death and misery,” he continued, “and all of it spent running from your own fears. Know now that Fear has come for you, Jonah Magnus. You cannot escape it and you cannot run from it.”

“No—no—no,” Jonah gasped, backing away from Jon, or trying to. “J-Jon, please—”

“For our Tim,” Jon snarled, and Gertrude Robinson’s voice and all their combined power joined in with him. “For our Sasha, and for Gertrude Robinson, and for all the others you have killed and trapped and harmed. For my Martin. For every life you took, every dream you destroyed, every ounce of pain and fear you inflicted on others—let it all be turned back on you tenfold. Feel it all, and for the first time in your life, Jonah Magnus, you will truly Know.”

“Jon—please—I don’t want to die,” Jonah begged.

“Neither did they.” Jon raised his voice and felt his hair stand on end. “Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this miserable, pathetic, wretched thing!”

The light in the room flashed as though struck by lightning, but a brilliant, blazing green, coming from both directions and centered directly on Jonah Magnus, who began to scream. Jon felt the fear slam into him, filling him near to bursting, thrumming through his veins and body like he’d simultaneously grabbed hold of a live electrical wire and tried to drink from a fire hose like a straw. Either Elias Bouchard’s body was shrinking or Jon had grown, or perhaps he was merely floating above the floor, but whatever the case, he was now looking down on the man from above.

In the exact same instant, Martin lunged forward and, with a roar of satisfaction and an accuracy that Jon Knew would not have been possible without their bond, drove the knife with both hands into the heart of Jonah Magnus’s body.

Elias’s scream rose to a fever pitch, joined by more voices—six, if Jon was any judge: the screams of the other five men Jonah Magnus murdered to extend his life, and the scream of the original Jonah Magnus himself, a dry, dusty sort of scream, desperate and frightened and pained. The green light flared up and filled the room in a blinding, soundless explosion—

—and then, suddenly, it was gone, leaving a vacuum of silence and the ruins of a prison guard tower.

Jon’s feet hit the ground—so he had been floating after all—and he stumbled slightly. Where Elias Bouchard had been, there was nothing but a scorch mark on the stone, and Martin was half-kneeling in the center of the guard tower, knife still in hand, but nothing remaining of Jonah Magnus’s original body but a scattering of dust.

Martin blinked twice, dropped the knife, and got to his feet, turning unerringly in Jon’s direction. “Jon?” he called.

“Martin,” Jon choked out. He reached out his hands desperately for Martin, wanting to hold him close, to tell him they’d done it, that they were safe, that it was over, that it had worked. That Jonah Magnus was dead and would never harm anyone else again. That they had won.

That he loved him, so very, very much.

He made it no more than a couple of steps before his strength failed him and he pitched forward, gasping. Two strong arms caught him and pulled him close. The last thing Jon heard was Martin desperately, frantically screaming his name.

And then everything went black.

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) #tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #smiting #intimidation tw #manipulation tw #belittling tw #stabbing tw #mention of murder (inc. brutal pipe murder) #we're so close to the end y'all #I can't believe it

[freckledoriya]

“h2whoa” (midoriya x reader fic)

PAIRING: izuku midoriya x reader

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol

PROMPT: “I’ve never seen someone as stunning as you.”

WORDS: 2.3k

A/N: here’s my submission for @bnhabookclub’s mermay event! special thanks to @k-atsukidayo​ for helping with this! 

feel free to send me requests HERE

You knew that you shouldn’t have come to this party. It really wasn’t your scene: the music blasting, deep bass shaking the corners of the house, clouds of smoke looming above your head, cheap beer spilling onto the hardwood floors. But it was your high school graduation party, and you felt some kind of cosmic teen obligation to attend the rager. It’s not that you didn’t love your classmates, you absolutely did. And you wished on everything possible that you’ll keep in touch after graduation, especially with your long-time crush, Izuku Midoriya.

Midoriya has been one of those crushes that slowly devours your soul until he’s unintentionally claimed your entire heart. It started your first year when you shyly asked for some tutoring for an upcoming combat exam. You knew his incessant note-taking would prove to be useful. Plus… you really just wanted an excuse to talk to the cute, quiet kid in class. After some blushing and stammering, he agreed to help. You fell headfirst as he hesitantly showed you some of the notes he had already taken on your quirk, a quirk you had always thought was nothing to brag about: a mermaid quirk. 

Sure, it sounded wonderful-- a true fantasy come to life. But the reality was that when on land, your quirk was rendered pretty much useless. You did have some water-bending abilities that you could call upon, but the mermaid extension of your power had little potential unless the fight was in the water. And then there was the issue of when your human legs would turn into an iridescent mermaid tail. When your skin comes in contact with enough water, your body automatically transforms, whether or not you want it. You always saw it as a pretty big weakness of yours-- that a villain could pour a bucket of water on you and in ten quick seconds you’d quite literally be a fish out of water. Luckily, your water manipulation proved useful in situations like that, but only if you were able to notice the water about to hit you before it made skin contact.

But all that considered, when Midoriya talked about your quirk, he made it sound like one of the greatest possible quirks someone could have. 

“Your body goes through a whole transformation that exponentially increases your speed in water and your water manipulation ability. Almost any villain would be at an automatic disadvantage if they were in the water with you. It’s an incredible quirk!”

You smile at the memory, cherishing those moments where Midoriya could make you feel like the strongest person on Earth while simultaneously making you weak in the knees. You adore his passion for hero work, his constant devotion to bettering himself never fails to inspire you. Plus, you can’t deny that you enjoy watching him fight. The way his messy, green hair tousles as he activates his quirk consistently lights a fire in you that you’ve never been able to extinguish. Sure, he could be a muttering mess of a nerd, but dammit if he didn’t have you completely wrapped around his finger.

Of course, he didn’t know that. You two went through high school together remaining nothing more than close friends. The second something would tease crossing that line, one of you guys would chicken out. And before you knew it, high school flashed by, leaving you with a heap of unconfessed feelings of infatuation. 

As you now stare at him from across the room and this graduation party, you can’t help but feel a twinge of regret. What if he has felt the same way about you, and you just wasted four years of your life pining for no reason? Then again, the fear of rejection weighed heavily on your shoulders, never really giving you the chance to break free and shoot your shot. 

Your thoughts are cut short by the sensation of cold water being splashed on your back. 

“MINETA!” you scream, whipping around to see the Fresh-Picked Hero running around, pouring water on other unsuspecting girls’ shirts. 

Your anger gets the best of you as you stand to stomp your way towards him, completely forgetting about the fact that your legs have begun fusing to form a tail. You begin to fall face-first into the floor, but right before you do, you feel a crackle of energy around you, the air fizzing as you feel yourself be caught by, who else, but Izuku Midoriya. 

“A-are you okay?” he says, balancing you in his arms. 

You try to catch your breath as you blush from all the eyes on you. 

“Damn, Midoriya,” Kaminari drunkenly slurs his words. “You ran across the room in less than a second to catch her. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you run that fast in the four years I’ve known you.”

There’s an awkward silence as you look up at your hero, his emerald eyes trying to keep focused on your eyes, blushing as he too notices the room staring at the pair of you.

“Uh, Midoriya,” you say before clearing your throat. “Can you carry me outside? Somewhere where I can wait to dry off?”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah of course.”

You tentatively wrap your arms around his neck as he begins to carry you through the house, trying to keep your heart from beating out your chest. You were so close to him. You attempt to take a few deep breaths to calm down, but every breath is immediately taken away by his presence.

“Thank you for catching me.” 

He smiles before setting you down in a reclining patio chair. “No problem. I’m sorry that Mineta did that to you.”

“Not your fault,” you shrug. “I’ve gone through all of high school with that little perv, I should know what to expect now.” 

Midoriya lets out a short laugh and takes a seat next to you, causing your heart to flutter. Was he going to sit with you while you waited to dry off and get human legs again? Could he get any more thoughtful and charming?

A few moments of silence pass. You let the gentle buzz of bugs, occasional croaks of frogs, and chlorine smell from the pool next to you fill the air. You look over and catch Midoriya staring, causing both of you to blush and look away. There’s a special kind of tension in the air, one that’s making your stomachs do flips as you ponder it. He could like me. He could like me, and now’s my chance to-

“So how long does it usually take for you to transform back?” he interrupts your thoughts. He must see the disappointment in your eyes because he immediately starts backtracking. “N-not that I’m in any rush! I’m fine sitting here with you! It’s just…” 

He sighs and his green eyes stare into yours. “-it’s just that you always look so sad when you’re in this form.”

His observation catches you off guard, but doesn’t surprise you. You’re never thrilled to have this quirk; whenever you transform you see it as a burden rather than some kind of gift. 

“I guess I kind of dislike this part of me, that’s all.”

Midoriya looks at you like a kid who was just told that Santa isn’t real: shocked, confused, and hurt. “But! But, it’s such an amazing quirk! The possibilities of all that you can do to save people and fight villains are endless. You must at least know that! And your water manipulation and combat skills mean that you’re just as effective out of water. And then you-”

“I know,” you say, cutting him off. “I know. It makes for a good hero quirk sometimes. But sometimes I just want to enjoy my class’ graduation party without turning into a half-monster with scales.”

“Monster?!” Midoriya practically yells, looking even more shocked and upset than before. “You think that your quirk makes you a monster?”

You gesture down to your tail, half hanging off the patio chair. Its iridescent scales reflect the moonlight, scattering hues of purple and yellow into the pool beside you. “What else would you call this?”

“Beautiful,” he says quickly, before blushing and beginning his usual stammering. “I-I mean beautiful in the way that I’m sure other people see you, not that I don’t think you’re beautiful, I mean, I do, but I just meant that you shouldn’t think that about yourself because I’m sure no one thinks of you other than beautiful, not that you’re not smart either, because you are, I just mean-”

As he mutters, you can’t help but feel a magnetic pull towards him. It’s too strong, too strong for you to try to resist anymore. You’ve fought it for four years. Four years of stealing glances during late-night study sessions. Four years of your hands occasionally “accidentally” touching his, causing electricity to flicker throughout your body. Four years of always hoping and dreaming that one day you’ll get to know the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. You can’t fight the pull anymore, even if you wanted to. So you give in. And you kiss him.

The kiss catches him off guard, effectively stopping his rambling. He tenses and gasps, but once he feels your hand reach up to his cheek, his eyes flutter close and he absolutely melts into your touch. Your lips move gently against his, guiding him at a slow, yet eager, pace. After a few fleeting moments, you’re forced to pull away for air.

You see your long-time crush, Izuku Midoriya, eyes big with adoration, cheeks flushed red, and your lipstick slightly staining his lips. In that moment, you can’t help but wish you had done this sooner. 

“I… I really like you, Izuku,” you whisper, unable to break eye contact as he hypnotizes you to move closer to him. “I have for a while.”

He smiles and attempts to blink back the tears in his eyes that threaten to spill over. “I really like you too.”

You don’t know this at the time, but Midoriya’s entire being is overflowing with elation. He has liked you far before you ever said your first words to him, choosing to admire you from afar. He never stopped having the mindset of the awkward, quirkless boy he once was, so he never considered that you could feel the same way. That you could reciprocate the way his heart practically bursted out his chest every time he laid eyes on you. Or the way he often found himself lost in a daydream where he magically had the nerve to go up to you and tell you how he really felt. Tell you that when he’s walking beside you, he can’t help but feel like he should be holding your hand; that when he’s talking to you, all he really should be doing is kissing you. 

So having you here beside him, quite literally sparkling under the moonlight and confessing that you like him just after kissing him… it’s almost too much to handle. He feels like his brain is short-circuiting.

“You wanna hop in the pool?” you suggest, effectively snapping him out of his daze.

“The pool?” he replies incredulously. 

“Yeah! Why not? It’ll be fun. Plus, now that I know you think I’m beautiful like this, maybe I want to stay like it,” you say with a wink. 

Midoriya feels his brain short circuit again. “I-I think you're beautiful without your quirk too!” 

You can’t help but giggle at his unwavering concern that he might say the wrong thing. You start to try and shimmy yourself off the patio chair to get to the pool, but Midoriya reacts quickly and leans over to help you lift you up. You admire his upper body strength (your mermaid tail was in no way a lightweight body part) and relish in the feeling of once again having his arms wrapped around you. He slowly lowers you into the pool water, blushing fervently once he notices the way your wet shirt clings to your body.

“Well? Aren’t you coming in too?” you ask, splashing at him. 

He chuckles and begins climbing in, not bothering to take off any of his clothes.Right as he enters the water, you take a breath and go underwater, feeling freer than ever before, completely in your element.

“Not fair!” he whines, watching you swim circles around him. “Not all of us have fins, you know.”

You giggle as you come up behind him, using your quirk to cause a small wave to crash over him. 

“Did you get me in here just to tease me?” he asks, trying to catch his breath from laughing.

You smile and swim up to him, getting as close as possible. “Maybe, but also to do this.”

Your lips crash into his, this kiss having much more confidence and purpose behind it than the one before. Midoriya lets out a soft moan as he kisses back, running his shaking hands through your wet locks. When you both stop to get air, he stares at you with wonderment.

There’s a special glint in his eyes that you can’t make out. Maybe it’s just the pool lights reflecting in his green irises. Or maybe there’s something else, shining bright within him like the stars above you, burning with passion and brilliance.

“What is it?” you ask, bewildered and hypnotized by his stare.

“It’s just,” he begins and looks up towards the sky, as if searching for the proper words, the ones that would have the right amount of letters, just the right sound to describe his current feelings. “It’s just… I’ve never seen someone as stunning as you. Both inside and out. And.. you absolutely amaze me.” 

It’s at that moment that you know with complete certainty-- you will keep in touch with Izuku Midoriya long after graduation.

#midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mermay #bnhabookclub

[hellofromthe-otter-slide]

we never found the answer but we knew one thing

Hello, everyone! Another year, another a Big Bang, and I was lucky enough to take part in the She-Ra Big Bang 2021 hosted by @sherabigbang​. Please be sure to head on over there to see all of the other amazing fics being posted and all of the artwork too. Everyone has worked so hard, and they’re all putting out some amazing content.

The amazing artwork done for my fic was done by @astrumumbrae​, and it’s so good and angsty and fits the scene perfectly.

A quick note before finally getting into my fic, I’ve had to split it up into two chapters. The end of the semester and finals ended up getting the better of me, but I’m going to finish the second chapter as soon as I’m done with my papers and grades are in. But hey, ya gurl has a Master’s degree now, so there’s that.

Alright, onto the fic. Enjoy!

Read on AO3.

~

Chapter 1: like we’re a lost cause

They catch her off guard, jumping her in an alley despite her best effort to evade their scans, and she tries running, but a hand catches her ankle before she’s even able to think about the safest place to run.

Her only option is to fight, and even though she knows where to strike, she knows what to do, she also hasn’t eaten anything substantial in a week, and it’s starting to slow her down.

It’s a useless fight, but she fights nonetheless. There’s really nothing else she can do, even if she’s only one against a whole Horde.

The host that caught her ankle pulls, and she loses her footing, but she’s able to kick the hand away, the crunch of bones sounding in her ear as she fights to pull herself up, but just as she’s got her feet under her, she feels arms wrap around her chest and a host walks up to her and grabs her crowbar before she has a chance to use it.

The host feels familiar to her, like she knew the person long ago before the very existence of a person inside the body was wiped clean. Their eyes are blank, still colored, still a very human shade of brown, but their body moves robotically, like they aren’t thinking about what they’re doing.

Still, she finally recognizes him, a boy who was a friend of a friend in high school. He was awkward, weak, and kind of scrawny, and not much has changed despite the hard labor that hosts are put through without complaint.

“Hey, Kyle,” she rasps out, her voice so rough from weeks without use.

He doesn’t respond.

“Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t say anything,” she struggles a bit on the other host’s hold, but it’s a solid as can be, “None of you ever do.”

He walks closer to her, her crowbar held solidly in his hands. His posture, so hunched in high school, is straighter now, more confident, and he holds her crowbar like he knows how to use it.

She wonders how much of that is growing up and how much of it is the hold over him.

He’s not totally perfect, though. She watches his movements closely, and just as he brings the crowbar down, she gets just enough footing to twist the host holding her, leaving the implant at the base of the skull in the direct path of the hit.

She hears the electricity crackle as metal comes down on the implant, and the host holding her in place spasms and releases her, and she falls to the ground and quickly dodges as Kyle brings her crowbar down again.

She tries to get up, but Kyle is too fast, and he throws himself on her, and she grabs onto her crowbar to get some leverage, but the skinny, awkward kid she knew forever ago was gone, and all that is left is a husk of a person with immeasurable strength.

She hears the sound of footsteps, and when she takes a chance and looks around them, the other hosts in the Horde are circling around them. She’s still fighting Kyle, but the crowbar is creeping closer and closer to her throat, and any hope of overpowering him and running away is slipping away.

“This isn’t really how I imagined going out,” she says like a conversation, but her voice comes out strained through gritted teeth, “I’ve done some awful things since this all started, so it only makes sense I would die alone.”

Kyle doesn’t respond, and she feels the cool metal of the crowbar against her throat.

“I guess I’m not alone,” she grits out, air getting harder and harder to suck in, “You’re here with me, aren’t you, Kyle?”

Kyle’s eyes are blank.

She starts to see spots at the edge of her vision, and somewhere far, far away, she swears she hears someone say her name, but it must be the lack of oxygen.

Even if there was anyone here to save her, no one would.

Her vision fades, and the second before she is completely swallowed in black, she sees the hosts crumble around her, and the last thing her mind sees are soft blue eyes.

“Catra?” a voice asks, a voice so familiar to her that she’s sure it has to be a hallucination caused by lack of air.

She passes out before she can respond.

~*~

Catra wakes up suddenly, the nightmare still gripping its claws into her even though she’s no longer asleep.

She looks around herself frantically, trying to find something, anything, that she can clutch to herself for comfort, but they’re not given much here.

The top bunk has a pillow, a thin blanket, and scratchy sheets. She’s not allowed any of the stuffed animals she saw kids at school with, and the blanket is barely long enough to cover her body, let alone to clutch it close to her.

She hears shuffling from the bunk underneath her, and Adora pulls herself to peek over the bar.

“Are you okay?” Adora asks, her voice quiet enough not to wake up anyone else in the room.

Catra pushes away from Adora, her back pushing into the wall, and Adora’s eyes go wide.

“Sorry,” Adora says quickly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” She pulls herself up into the bed and sits crossed-legged across from Catra, and she offers Catra her hand.

Catra tries and pulls her blanket around herself, hoping that if she disappears under the fabric, Adora will leave her alone, but there’s no movement, no indication that Adora gave up and went back to bed.

She pushes the fabric down under her eyes, and Adora is still there, her hand still held out to Catra, and she’s smiling.

“You sounded really scared,” Adora says, her hand dropping down to the bed but staying in the space between them, “I heard you whimpering from my bunk.”

Catra still doesn’t say anything, but she watches Adora closely.

She’s Mrs Weaver’s favorite, and Catra is sure that she can’t trust Adora, but Adora’s here and offering her comfort, and there’s no one else in this entire house that has ever even tried.

“If you’re scared, you can share my bunk with me,” Adora says easily, “I get lonely down there, and it would be warmer too.”

Catra is sure there’s some kind of catch. They’re not supposed to get out of their bunks at night, and Adora offering to share breaks at least five rules, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s looking at Catra with an openness Catra has never felt.

Her options are to take Adora’s offer or stay up the rest of the night for fear of falling asleep, so she grabs Adora’s hand.

“Okay,” Catra says, her voice small, and Adora’s smile gets so wide that Catra can see the gap left from the tooth Adora lost the other day while her and Lonnie were roughhousing.

“Come on,” Adora says excitedly while throwing her legs over the bar to get down, “I’ll keep you safe.”

Adora drops down first, and she climbs back up just enough to grab Catra’s pillow and blanket for her before making room for Catra to get down too.

Catra almost falls when her feet hit the floor, but Adora is quick to grab her before she makes enough noise to alert Mrs Weaver.

Adora gets in bed first, and she pushes herself up against the wall so that there’s plenty of room on her bed for Catra, and Catra climbs in hesitantly. She’s still not quite sure she can trust Adora, and she’s almost certain Mrs Weaver will find out, but it’s easy to forget all that as Adora moves Catra’s pillow a little closer to her own and snuggles up under her blanket.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Adora whispers.

Catra nods her head no and snuggles a little closer to Adora. She reasons that it’s cold in their room, and the blankets are thin, so it’s just for warmth, but Adora grabs her hand and Catra doesn’t move away.

“That’s okay,” Adora smiles sleepily, her blanket pulled up under her chin, “I’ll be right here anyway.”

“You promise?” Catra asks, and she starts to feel drowsy, the nightmare from earlier slowly forgotten.

“I promise,” Adora whispers right before they both start to drift off, “I’ll always be right here.”

~*~

Catra’s hazy as she wakes up, her head throbbing, and she can’t move or open her eyes.

There’s a quiet conversation going on beside her, and there’s that voice again, one she hasn’t heard for years, and she’s sure that she’s hallucinating. She doesn’t recognize the other voice, though, and she’s not cognizant enough to comprehend anything.

She can already feel herself drifting off again, and no matter how much she tries to fight it, she passes out again.

~*~

Catra closes her locker and turns to see Adora waiting for her, smiling wider than Catra has seen all day.

“You look insane,” Catra comments, adjusting her bag to sit more comfortable on her shoulders.

Adora rolls her eyes. “Hello, Adora,” she mimics Catra’s voice, her smile not wavering, “It’s so nice to see you after a long day of classes, Adora.”

Catra smirks, “You’re not really helping the insanity argument here, dummy.”

“Just ask me why I’m here.”

“We go to the same school and live at the same place. I figured you were here so we can go home.”

“Catra,” Adora whines, her smile finally faltering to help the effect.

“Fine, fine,” Catra sighs, “What are you doing standing at my locker, which is where you are every day after school in the off-season?”

“I’m so happy you asked,” Adora says happily, her smile coming back, and Catra fights back a matching smile, “Mrs Weaver won’t be home until after dinner tonight, and Lonnie agreed to do our chores for us today.”

“How did you manage that?” Catra asks, “Lonnie fucking hates me.”

Adora sighs, and Catra already knows what she’s going to say next.

“She doesn’t hate you, Catra,” Adora and Catra say at the same time, Adora’s voice exasperated and Catra’s high-pitched in an attempt to mimic Adora.

“She really doesn’t,” Adora adds on, “But that’s not the point. I promised Lonnie I would do her chores for the rest of the week, so, if Mrs Weaver is gone . . .” She trails off, waiting for Catra to finish the thought.

“We’re free until she gets back,” Catra says excitedly.

Adora nods, and Catra realizes now that she has her hands help behind her back, because she reveals what it is.

“Mrs Oakland let me loan out one of the cameras for you,” Adora says, offering Catra the camera, “I know you’ve been wanting to go to the cemetery to take some pictures, so I figured we’d use our afternoon of freedom to catch the bus and go.”

Catra takes the camera and holds it against her chest, trying her hardest to hold in her excitement, but the hallway has emptied enough that Catra doesn’t stop the smile from pulling at her lips.

“This is okay, I guess,” Catra says in pretend nonchalance.

“I know you’re excited,” Adora rolls her eyes and gestures around the empty hallway, “There’s not even anyone here to keep up the façade.”

“Come on, dummy,” Catra carefully puts the camera into her bag and then grabs Adora’s hand to pull her out of the school, “I want to savor every second we’re free.”

Later, after hours of walking around the cemetery across town and grabbing chocolate milkshakes from a place down the road, Catra and Adora make it back to their group home just minutes before Mrs Weaver, and even though Mrs Weaver seems suspicious, she has no proof that anything is off.

At bedtime, Mrs Weaver turns off the lights with her usual threats, and Catra waits until everyone else falls asleep before climbing down into Adora’s bunk, the camera held carefully in her hands.

They flip through the pictures until they’re too sleepy to keep scrolling, and Catra snuggles into Adora after setting the camera down on the floor.

“Today was a really good day,” Catra whispers as she starts to drift off.

“It was,” Adora agrees, “Someday, our lives will be even more days like today.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah,” Adora says, pulling Catra closer, “I promise.”

~*~

Catra wakes up again to someone moving her onto a stretcher, and she’s sure that she’s been brought to one of the facilities set up to make more hosts.

She starts to fight the hands grabbing her, her mind too fuzzy and vision too blurry to see what’s happening. All she can think about is getting away.

A hand tries grabbing her wrist, and she pulls away violently, but another hand grabs her shoulder and shoves her down onto the stretcher. Straps hold her down and make fighting impossible, but she still pulls.

“Stop!” That voice shouts, the one so familiar to her, “You’re hurting her!”

“Adora?” Catra asks frantically, looking around herself for the hallucination.

She feels a pinch, and her vision clears just enough to see her hallucination pushing herself to the edge of the stretcher before it gets fuzzy again.

“You’re safe here, Catra,” her hallucination promises, “I’ll keep you safe.”

The last thing Catra sees before being engulfed in black is her hallucination grabbing her hand.

~*~

The sky darkens above them, and Catra looks up from the field expecting to see dark clouds rolling in, but there’s a ship covering the sky. Before Catra can think, she runs from the track to the soccer fields, looking around for Adora.

She finds Adora ushering her team inside, and when Catra calls her name, she nudges the last girl through the doors before meeting Catra at the fence.

“We need to get inside,” Adora says quickly.

“I don’t think getting inside is going to help.”

There’s a sound of pressure release, and Adora and Catra look up at the sky to see the ship stopping above the school, something spike-like coming out of it.

“What the fuck is going on?” Catra asks, and Adora doesn’t answer. She hops the fence, grabs Catra’s hand and runs into the building.

The other girls on the soccer team wait for Adora before running further into the school. Adora follows them without question, and Catra looks over her shoulder and sees the spike sinking into the turf of the soccer fields. She just barely sees doors opening before they turn the corner, and they keep running into the center of the school.

Adora stops them right before the cafeteria, and Catra sees other students start to fill in. Catra notices the theater kids first, still in costume from their dress rehearsal, and a few are still holding their props like some kind of safety blanket.

Then there’s the robotics team looking like a mix of excited and scared with the Quizbowl kids intermingling with them.

Catra sees the other members of the track team run in, and when their coach spots her among the soccer players, she waves Catra over.

“I’ll be right back,” Catra tells Adora, and Adora lets go of Catra’s hand like she just realized she’s still holding it.

“You know where I’ll be,” Adora says, and the easy smile seems forced, like she’s trying to pretend like she isn’t freaking out.

Catra gives her a forced smile before running back over to her team.

Her coach marks Catra off of her list, and the rest of her team pulls her into the conversation they’re already having.

“Did you see it?” one of the freshmen asks the group, but she’s looking right at Catra.

“Yeah,” Catra says, barely paying attention and looking over to see Adora talking to a few girls on the soccer team.

“What was it?” another girl asks, one of the other seniors, but Catra has stopped paying attention completely, wondering when she can get away and get back to Adora.

Someone grabs Catra’s wrist when she doesn’t respond, and she pulls away and pushes the girl back.

“Don’t touch me!” Catra yells, pulling her hand back to strike again, but she feels a hand grab her wrist and an arm around her waist.

“Hey,” Adora says gently, and Catra doesn’t know how Adora got over here so fast, but even with Adora holding her back, Catra still feels wired.

Her teammates help the other girl up, and she glares at Catra as she brushes herself off, and Catra tries lunging forward, but Adora strengthens her hold, and Catra’s stuck.

“Driluth!” her coach yells, putting herself between Catra and her teammate, “Now is not the time to be picking fights.”

“She fucking started it,” Catra growls.

“I was just trying to get her attention,” her teammate argues, but Coach puts a hand up to either of them to stop any other explanations.

“Grayskull, take her to go cool off,” Catra’s coach orders.

“Yes, Coach.” Adora drops her arm from Catra’s waist, but the hand around her wrist stays, and Adora pulls Catra off into one of the dark hallways away from teammates and theater kids and robotics nerds.

Catra pulls her hand from Adora’s grip and punches the wall, recoiling immediately from the pain.

“Why did you do that?” Adora asks, her voice exasperated, and she gently takes Catra’s hand in her own.

“What the fuck else am I supposed to do?” Catra asks, “Normally I run, but I can’t do that with whatever the hell is going on out there.”

Adora runs her thumb across Catra’s knuckles, and it’s enough to tamp down the last dregs of anger, frustration, and panic that Catra is feeling.

“Why did you shove her, Catra?” Adora asks, her eyes catching Catra’s while she waits for an answer.

“I—” Catra looks down and away, because she doesn’t really have a good answer. She can’t remember what was going through her head when her teammate grabbed her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it felt like Mrs Weaver, and she shoved her teammate without thinking twice.

“I don’t really know,” Catra says softly, and then everything is too much. Between worrying about whatever is going on outside, keeping track of Adora, and whatever just happened between her and her teammate, she feels strung out, and she pulls her hand away from the comfort Adora is trying to give her.

“But thank you so much for coming to my rescue,” Catra says sarcastically, cradling her hand close to her chest.

“Catra, you were about to start a fight,” Adora tries moving back into her space, but Catra just backs away.

“And you just had to play the hero, didn’t you?” Catra sneers, and everything in her head is telling her to stop, telling her to just let Adora comfort her, but she pushes it so far back she can barely hear it anymore.

“It’s not like that—”

“Coming in at just the right time to save Catra from herself,” she cuts Adora off, her nails digging so hard into her skin that she’s sure she’s going to draw blood, “I mean, you’ve already made everyone think of you as my keeper.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” Adora says, annoyed, “I’m just trying to help you.”

“Then stop helping!”

Suddenly, they hear something, and Adora looks into the nearest classroom to see that the TV has turned itself on, but there’s nothing but static.

Everything, the fight, Catra’s response, yelling at Adora, is forgotten as Catra looks behind them out to one of the doors of the building. She sees something very not human walk in front of the doors and station itself right outside, its back to them.

“Look,” Catra says quietly, grabbing Adora’s arm so that Adora will turn away from the staticky TV.

“What is it doing?”

“It looks like it’s guarding the doors,” Catra says, “There’s probably one on all of the entrances.”

“No way out,” Adora whispers, then grabs Catra and pulls her back to everyone else, “We need to let the others know.”

They get back to the cafeteria to see all of the TVs on and showing nothing but static, but suddenly, everything clears to a black screen and a robotic voice says, “Be calm. Do not leave.”

“Real comforting,” Catra whispers sarcastically.

The TVs play that message on repeat, that same robotic voice stating, “Be calm. Do not leave,” over and over and over again.

Catra looks around to see some of the other students pull out cell phones, but it looks like they aren’t working.

“Your phone?” Catra asks Adora.

“In my locker with my stuff. Yours?”

“Same,” Catra thinks on it for a second, then adds, “As if Weaver would pick up.”

“We’re trapped in the school, Catra,” Adora starts pulling at her ponytail, and Catra can see her breath start to pick up, “What are we supposed to do?”

“Hey,” Catra pulls Adora’s hands away from her hair, “Please, do not start freaking on me. We’re fine.”

“We’re trapped.”

“We are,” Catra agrees, “Freaking out isn’t going to help, though.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

Catra looks around them to see that most of the students are sat in groups, some of them talking, others looking one step away from breaking.

“Right now, we sit,” Catra says, pulling Adora to a wall and sitting her down, “We’ll try and figure out what’s going on after you calm down.”

“Catra, I’m scared,” Adora admits, and Catra’s surprised to hear her say it.

Adora’s not afraid of anything. Adora stands up to bullies and faces their rival teams with an easy confidence, and she comforts Catra with strong steady arms.

Catra isn’t used to being the one to offer comfort.

Still, even if she was mad at Adora just a few minutes ago, she’s going to fill that role if Adora needs it.

“So am I,” Catra admits softly, “There’s nothing we can do until we get more information, though, right?”

Adora nods, “Right.”

“Then, for right now, we wait,” Catra says, taking a seat next to Adora.

~*~

Catra wakes up slowly, her hearing coming back to her before she’s willing to open her eyes against the bright light she already knows is waiting for her.

She thinks she’s in one of the host facilities, that she’ll open her eyes to the clones standing over her, an implant ready to erase every part of who she is.

Maybe erasing it all is for the best, Catra thinks, twitching her hand a bit as feeling comes back, but when she twitches, she feels the warmth of a hand in her own.

It’s too comforting, too human, to be one of the hosts.

Then she hears whispers.

“Adora, you need to grab something to eat and get some rest,” a soft voice, low and comforting, says in the quiet of the room.

“Bow’s right,” another voice, soft and insistent, agrees, “You’ve been here since we found her.”

“I’m not leaving,” that voice, her voice, is closer than the other two, “Not until she wakes up.”

“We don’t know how long that will be,” the soft and insistent voice says, and Catra can hear some frustration in there too, “She hasn’t woken up since my mom administered the sedative.”

“I’m not letting her wake up alone,” her voice says, and it has that same determination that echoes in Catra like a lost memory.

The person with the soft, insistent voice groans, and Catra recognizes the feeling.

“We’ll bring you some food,” the low and comforting voice says, and then Catra hears a door open and click shut before silence fills the room.

The hand in her own squeezes, and as Catra starts to come back to herself, as every part of her starts to feel less groggy and more alert, she’s too afraid to open her eyes.

She’s still not convinced that this isn’t just a hallucination. She worries that she’ll wake up to see the girl she chose to let go, but it won’t be real. She’ll come face to face with the one person in the world she’s cared about more than herself, but everything will disappear like smoke, and Catra will still be alone.

There’s a sigh, and then Catra feels the bed shift just slightly.

“I’m right here,” her hallucination’s voice assures her, “And I’m not going anywhere.”

But you did, Catra wants to say, You already left.

She doesn’t say it out loud, though. There’s no point arguing with something that’s not really there.

Catra feels herself drifting off again, but unlike the last time, she can fight it, and she does.

She figures there’s no reason to delay the inevitable. Even if she refuses to wake up, they’ll make her a host anyway, and she won’t be Catra anymore. She’ll be just another blank-eyed worker for them.

When she opens her eyes, the overhead fluorescents are almost blinding, and she groans and closes her eyes quickly, her head trying to bury itself back into the pillow to block out the light.

“Catra?” More movement on the bed, and then Catra feels a hand against her cheek.

“Not real,” Catra rasps out to remind herself.

“What?” her hallucination asks, a gentle thumb running across Catra’s cheek.

“You’re not real,” Catra says a bit louder this time, and when she opens her eyes and they adjust to the light, Catra can’t believe she’s seeing her again.

Adora, her hair up and her blue eyes full of concern and worry.

Catra knows the look. She’s seen it a million times. Every time Mrs Weaver punished her, every time Adora held Catra while they tried to sleep, Catra saw that same look.

“What do you mean?” Adora’s brows pull together in confusion.

Catra reaches out and touches Adora, her fingertips running over the fabric of Adora’s shirt, and she thinks, for just a moment, that her hand might go through Adora completely, but she feels the soft fabric.

“You’re not real,” Catra whispers.

“I’m real, Catra,” Adora keeps running her thumb over Catra’s cheek, “I’m really here.”

“You’re—” Catra breathes out, her fingers fisting into Adora’s shirt. Despite the fact that she still isn’t totally sure, her previous hallucinations of Adora have never interacted with her, never touched her, never made her feel so safe.

“You’re real,” Catra says, a flood of different emotions filling her up, “How?”

“You must’ve been close to Bright Moon without realizing it,” Adora explains, “We were doing a supplies run, and I saw you fighting a group of hosts. I ended up running to help you before anyone could stop me.”

“There were, like, ten hosts.”

“I didn’t take them down myself,” Adora responds, “Bow and Glimmer ran after me, and everyone helped.”

Catra can almost imagine it, Adora seeing her and running without any real plan and no way to help either of them but doing it without a second thought.

Then she realizes something.

“I’m in Bright Moon then.”

“Uh,” Adora pulls her hand off of Catra’s cheek, “Yeah. You were unconscious, so medical brought you back.”

Catra gets flashes of waking up, of being restrained, of fighting because she didn’t know what else to do. She sees bandages on her wrists that she knows she didn’t get from fighting the hosts.

Catra releases Adora’s shirt and clutches the blanket instead.

“I, uh—” Adora gets up from her chair, and she trips over one of the legs before righting herself again, “I should go get Angella. She’ll want to know you’re up.”

Adora leaves, and Catra is left alone in whatever Bright Moon is using for medical. There are other beds in the room, none of them occupied, and Catra wonders for just a moment how often Bright Moon uses their medical, because just from this glimpse, she doesn’t think it’s very often.

Even though it’s bright, it’s quiet. There’s the ambient noise of electricity and the soft whir of machines, but otherwise, the only sound is Catra shifting in her bed and her heavy breaths.

The door opens again, and a tall woman enters the room, Adora and two people that Catra hazily recognizes following just behind.

The tall woman steps up to Catra’s bed and takes Adora seat.

“It’s nice to see you awake, Catra,” the woman says, and Catra notices that her voice is kind, if a little stern, and it raises every warning signal she has been able to ignore for years, “I’m Angella.”

“How long was I out?” Catra asks, trying to pay attention to the woman sitting next to her and not Adora a few feet behind

“Almost five days,” Angella answers, “Between the injuries and the sedatives, and given that you were dehydrated and malnourished, I’m surprised you weren’t out for longer.”

Catra doesn’t have anything to say to that, so she doesn’t say anything at all.

“Right, yes,” Angella stands, and Catra notices a stethoscope hanging around her neck, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to do a few checks to make sure you’re alright.”

Catra looks past her again to Adora and the other two, and Angella follows her gaze and seems to have a moment of understanding.

“It does seem to be quite crowded in here,” Angella mutters to herself, though Catra thinks she’s also meant to hear it, then to Adora and the others, she says, “Out, please.”

The other two leave without issue, but just as Adora winds up to argue, Angella puts a hand up to stop her and says, “You can come back in after I’m done, Adora.”

Adora mumbles something under her breath, but even still, she gives Catra one last look before following the other two out the door.

“That’s better,” Angella says, turning back to Catra with a smile, and Catra knows it’s probably meant to be comforting, that asking Adora and the other two to leave is probably meant to be a kind act, but she doesn’t believe it.

It wouldn’t be the first time kindness was skillfully used against her, so she keeps her guard up.

Angella moves closer to Catra, and Catra’s fist grips tightly into the blanket, her body ready to run or fight.

Catra doesn’t expect Angella to notice, but she does, and she gives Catra as much space as she can.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Angella assures Catra softly, taking the stethoscope from around her neck, “I can explain everything I’m doing if that would help.”

Catra’s not sure how much she’ll understand, but there’s some level of comfort in knowing what’s going on, so she nods, and Angella smiles.

Angella is efficient as she checks each of Catra’s injuries, the only conversation between them Angella’s explanation and the occasional question, whether it hurts to breath or talk, if the bandages around Catra’s wrists are too tight, rating pain on a scale of one to ten when Angella checks the bruises on Catra’ neck or the bruised rib Catra didn’t know she had.

The check-up is done within ten minutes, and as Angella wraps her stethoscope back around her neck, she says, “If you need anything, just let someone here know. We’ll try to help any way we can.”

“Can I ask for something?” Catra says with a little bit of hesitation.

“Of course,” Angella responds easily.

Catra takes a deep breath in and lets it out before saying, “I don’t want Adora in here.”

Angella looks surprised, and Catra wonders just how much Angella knows about her and whether Adora has talked about her at all. Angella doesn’t ask any questions though, and if she does know anything, she doesn’t give herself away. She just nods and says, “I’ll make sure she doesn’t come to see you.”

Catra doesn’t say thank you, and Angella gives Catra a look she can’t quite decipher before leaving.

~*~

The week following is lonely and quiet for the most part. Angella comes once a day to check up on her, and the only conversation between them are the questions Angella asks and the explanations she continues to give. Their appointments are short, and Angella doesn’t push despite obvious curiosity, and Catra only gives as much as she has to.

Someone else brings Catra’s food throughout the day, a tall girl with dark skin covered with freckles and flowers constantly woven into her hair. She tries talking to Catra, asking her questions and providing some things here and there about herself, but Catra never reciprocates. She just takes the food offered to her and says nothing, hoping the girl will leave when she realizes Catra’s disinterest, but she never does. She just fills the silence by telling Catra about her garden and her favorite tea and every opinion she has about the meal she brings.

On the sixth day, Angella opens the door as the tall girl is leaving, and the girl takes a moment to have a short, cheerful conversation before Angella ushers her out of the room.

Over the week, Catra has become a bit more comfortable with Angella, but even still, she can’t help her grip tightening into the blanket the closer Angella gets to her bed, and Angella stops about a foot from the edge just like she always does.

“How are you feeling today, Catra?” Angella asks, the first part of their usual routine.

“Fine,” Catra says, and unlike every other time, she actually means it. She’s still sore, but everything feels so much better, and she can’t complain about consistent and filling meals.

“Good,” Angella says, looking down at her clipboard and taking a seat, breaking the routine they’ve built up over the last week, and when she looks up, she says, “I’m going to do a final check-up, but unless I see any issues, we can discharge you today.”

“I can leave?”

Angella nods.

“And you’re not going to stop me?”

“Bright Moon isn’t a prison,” Angella says, setting her clipboard aside so that her sole focus is on Catra, “I would prefer you stay here, at least until everything has healed completely, but if you want to go, we’ll give you what we can before you leave.”

Catra doesn’t believe her. She’s sure that they’re going to find another reason to get her to stay, to lock her within Bright Moon’s walls, and her mind is already building escape plans.

“So,” Angella stands, “Shall we?”

Catra’s mind wanders throughout the exam, already planning and thinking ahead, wondering which direction will get her away from Bright Moon the fastest and the best places to hide out where Bright Moon can’t find her. She’s so distracted that she barely registers the questions Angella asks her, answering with unfocused, one-word answers.

Catra expects Angella to find some reason to make her stay, but Angella doesn’t find anything worrying or out of the ordinary. She just clicks her pen closed before helping Catra out of the bed, waiting for Catra to slip on her boots, and leading her out of medical and into the poorly-lit hallway.

“Perfuma has your things,” Angella explains, directing Catra towards a desk in the corner, “She can walk you out to the gates whenever you’re ready.”

Perfuma waves at Catra from her desk, and Catra’s already sure that she’s going to be trapped in an unavoidable conversation on the way out.

“And Catra?”

Catra turns and sees Angella smiling at her.

“I know you don’t want to be here, and that Bright Moon has never been where you see yourself, but you should talk to her,” Angella says softly, and Catra wonders if this is what motherly advice is meant to sound like, as opposed to the slurred words and harsh jabs she grew up with, “She’s missed you.”

The advice is given like Angella knows what happened, like she knows who Catra is and the chasm that dug itself into her heart over the last three years.

“I miss her too,” Catra finds herself admitting, but she quickly shakes herself out of it, out of emotions that she can’t let herself feel, because if she feels them, she’s not going to leave, and she wants to leave.

No matter how much she wants to talk to Adora, she already knows how the conversation will go, and she’s not sure she’s strong enough to say no this time.

“I can’t.” Catra makes sure her voice holds finality, because she doesn’t want Angella to fight her on it, and Angella doesn’t.

Catra can tell that she doesn’t agree, but she understands, and she doesn’t push the subject further.

“Perfuma,” Angella calls down the hall, “Please bring Catra’s things.”

Catra’s surprised to see her backpack untouched, but even as Perfuma hands her bag back to her, she opens it to make sure she still has everything she came to Bright Moon with.

Everything is there and nothing is out of place.

She does notice that her crowbar is gone, probably lost in the fight, so the first thing she puts on her mental checklist is to find a new weapon.

“Nothing’s missing,” Catra comments, closing her bag back up.

“Of course not,” Angella says like it’s obvious, “These are your things. If you had chosen to stay, we would ask that you hand over any food you may have, but everything else is yours and no one else’s.”

There are a few moments of silence before Angella rips something from her clipboard and hands it to Perfuma. “Get Catra everything on this list and then take her to the gates.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Perfuma says with more energy than Catra can handle.

She runs off to get what’s on the list, and Angella lets out a sigh. Catra looks over at her to see a tiredness she’s never noticed before. It sweeps over Angella in a wave before she squares her shoulders, checks her clipboard, and turns to Catra.

“I need to go, so it’ll just be you and Perfuma.”

Catra rolls her eyes and puts on her backpack. “I can’t wait.”

Angella smiles, and it’s the kind of smile Catra isn’t used to getting. It has a small amount of fondness and exasperation but still kind. It’s the type of smile that a mother might give before softly chastising, and Catra doesn’t let herself get comfortable with it.

“She’s excitable, but she knows what she’s doing,” Angella says, and she reaches a hand out before stopping just short of Catra’s shoulder and pulling her hand back. “Safe travels, Catra.”

Angella leaves before Catra can say anything, but Catra doesn’t even know what she’s supposed to say. She knows, “Thank you,” would be what most people say, and it would cover a lot, but Catra has never been good at saying, “Thank you,” and it never comes off as genuine from her.

Perfuma returns just after Angella left, and she hands a package to Catra. “It’s medicine,” she explains, “Angella included instructions on when to take it and how often.”

Catra nods and puts it into her bag.

“We can stop by the cafeteria if you’d like provisions too,” Perfuma offers.

Catra almost says yes, because food would mean more time before she has to stop, but she doesn’t want to walk through more of Bright Moon than she has to. She’s sure that if she follows Perfuma to the cafeteria, somehow Adora will be there, and she’ll have to confront the fact that she hasn’t allowed Adora anywhere near her, and she’s leaving before Adora gets a chance to convince her to stay.

“I’m good,” Catra says, “Let’s just get to the gate.”

Perfuma leads Catra out of the medical building, and Catra gets her first real view of Bright Moon.

They’re deep in a cave system, but the lights placed overhead mirror the sun, and even though it doesn’t feel completely natural, it’s enough to make the cave feel a little less dark and damp.

Even still, it feels like this place has been untouched. People move around Catra and Perfuma on their way to wherever they’re going, and they’re laughing and joking, talking openly without worrying about being found. It’s like none of them are worried or even aware of what life is like outside of Bright Moon’s gates. They’re more than happy to exist hidden away.

There’s no fear, no worry, no constant looking over shoulders to make sure they haven’t been spotted.

Catra can almost see the appeal of living here now that she’s seen more of the city, but she doesn’t let that change her decision.

They leave the city center, and the happy, talkative people thin out to soldiers stationed along the way to the gate, and when one stops them to ask their purpose there, Catra hears her name shouted from a distance, and she turns to see Adora running towards them.

It's unavoidable. Catra can’t get away, and none of the soldiers are stopping her, so Adora runs right up to her, breathing heavily and obviously angry.

“You were just going to leave?” Adora asks, pushing into Catra’s space.

“Did you really think I was going to stay?”

Adora’s eyes go wide, like she’s surprised and hurt, but it quickly dissolves into anger, and Adora shoves Catra, causing Catra to trip over herself and fall, Adora falling onto her and pining her to the coarse rock floor.

“I can’t believe you,” Adora says, shifting her weight to stop Catra from fighting and grabbing Catra’s wrist when Catra tries to shove her off.

“Just because you found me and brought me here doesn’t mean I’m going to stay,” Catra forces out through gritted teeth, “I didn’t want to blindly follow you here three years ago, and I won’t stay here now.”

“You could be safe here!”

Catra remembers Adora saying the same thing three years ago, her voice so earnest and hopeful, and it’s fuel on the fire of Catra’s anger.

“I don’t care!” Catra yells, finally getting enough leverage to flip them, “I don’t want to live in the place you left me for!”

One of the soldiers pulls Catra off of Adora, another keeping a hand on Adora’s shoulder when she gets up, and Adora looks at Catra like Catra reached into her chest and ripped out her still-beating heart.

Catra knows the look well.

It’s the exact look she had when Adora chose to leave her for Bright Moon three years ago.

“Why can’t you just stay?” Adora asks, her voice pained and everything part of her looking like the only thing keeping her from reaching out to Catra is the soldier’s hand holding her back.

“Because you didn’t.” Catra fights her way out of the soldier’s hold and walks past Perfuma to Bright Moon’s gate.

She doesn’t look back.

She doesn’t falter when Adora calls after her.

She doesn’t stop until she sees the sun.

~*~

They think they’ve found somewhere relatively untouched. The town isn’t much bigger than the one they grew up in, and it’s completely empty.

It’s the perfect place to set up camp for a few days, and Catra and Adora are able to replenish their food supply and just rest.

On one day, they make their way through an old sports supply store, each of them trying to find something new to protect themselves with since they lost their old weapons in a fight a week before.

Adora finds a sword, and even though Catra pokes fun at her, asking how she’s supposed to protect herself with it, Adora doesn’t care. She grabs the sheath and straps it across her back and helps Catra find a new baseball bat to replace her old one.

They move their camp among the different shops, and this night they decide to hide themselves back in the sports shop’s storage, Catra sleeping while Adora stays awake to keep watch.

Everything is quiet until it’s not.

Catra wakes up to Adora shaking her shoulder, and the two pack up as fast as they can before Adora leads them deeper into the building and out the back door.

Sirens fill the night’s quiet, and Catra knows what it means.

The drones have found someone, and now they’re on high alert for other humans in the area.

Every building will be searched, every hole checked, and whoever has already been caught will either be deemed fit enough to become a host or killed.

Just as they’re about to step out onto the street, Adora pushes Catra back against the brick wall of the building, the drone’s green sensor just barely missing them, and they get a good look at the people who got caught.

It’s a girl about their age with fading purple hair and a boy clutching onto her for dear life, and they’re looking around themselves hopeless and afraid.

Catra wants to keep going, wants to get out of the city limits as soon as they can, but she can see Adora’s decision before Adora says anything.

“No,” Catra whispers, grabbing Adora’s arm to keep her in place, “Adora, it’s a suicide mission.”

“I can’t just leave them out there,” Adora doesn’t look back at Catra as she says it.

“They’re not our responsibility.”

“Yes, they are,” Adora insists.

Catra groans, because she knows there’s nothing she can say that’ll convince Adora to leave. She already knows she’s doomed to help, because there’s also no way she’s leaving Adora alone to do something inevitably idiotic, so she’s trapped in whatever dumb plan Adora is going to come up with.

“Fine.” Catra looks over her shoulder and does a quick count of everything they’re up against.

It’s not a big town, so there aren’t that many drones or hosts, and as far as Catra can see, there aren’t any sentries, which puts them at an advantage.

“We’ll need to take out the drones first,” Catra says, grabbing Adora’s wrist and leading her back through the alleys in the direction that the drone was heading, “If we get them from behind and kill them fast, then they won’t have time to alert the hosts that we’re here.”

“I like that advantage,” Adora says, and Catra looks over her shoulder to see a smile.

“At least the drones won’t put up a fight.”

They find another alley that leads out onto the street, and duck out of the way when the drone they are following turns to scan the alley before moving on.

“I’ll get this one,” Adora says and starts down the alley before Catra can say anything, and Catra feels a twinge of annoyance, but she buries it for now.

It doesn’t take long for Catra to hear a soft crash and the sound of electricity sputtering out before Adora comes back to where she’s crouched down.

“One down then.”

Adora nods. “How many hosts did you count?”

“Five. You?”

“Same.”

“There’s probably more around,” Catra thinks for a moment, thinking of the size of the town and how far the drones and hosts would go to find more organic life, “I can’t imagine there’s more than fifteen hosts altogether, which means there will probably be two other drones.”

They head back to where they know the two others are being held, and Catra notices that the alley they stopped at opens up to the town’s center.

The hosts are still holding their position, and the girl and boy look like they’re getting more and more desperate.

“How likely is it that the other hosts and drones will come back before we can take these five out?” Adora asks, her sword already unsheathed and ready.

“I don’t know. How big is your ego today?”

Adora rolls her eyes and bumps their shoulders. “No need to be a jerk.”

Catra smirks and says, “So long as we aim for the chips, I think we can manage it.”

“No point in wasting time then.”

Adora finds a rock to throw that pulls the hosts’ attention away from them, and when the hosts turn, Catra and Adora take them out as quickly as possible.

They work together easily, Catra moving and dodging to bring the hosts’ chips where Adora can smash the handle of the sword into it, and as the last host falls to the ground, the chip flickering and sending spasms through them, Catra grabs the girl’s wrist and Adora grabs the boy, and they run.

They run until they hit the town limits and then keep running until they see a small patch of woods that they can hide in.

Catra releases the girl and takes a deep, relieved breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Adora collapses to the leaf-covered ground, her face red from all of the running.

“You’re getting slow,” Catra comments, her breaths still coming out ragged.

Adora flails her arm in Catra’s direction. “Bite me,” she says, her voice coming out weak, and Catra laughs at her.

Just as Catra’s about to continue making fun of Adora, she hears the girl groan and collapse against a tree, the boy rushing over to make sure she’s okay, but Catra can see that he isn’t much better.

“You’re welcome,” Catra says before she can stop herself, her voice coming out sarcastic.

The girl looks up and glares at her, but Catra just smirks back.

“Thank you,” the boy says, his voice soft and kind, “We don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t done that.”

“You seem to be in good enough shape, so it looks like being a host would’ve been in your future.”

“Catra,” Adora says, her voice like a warning, and Catra hears what Adora isn’t going to say out loud.

Be nice. Behave yourself. Don’t say something like that.

Adora picks herself off the ground and brushes herself off before coming up beside Catra.

“Sorry,” Adora apologizes for Catra, and Catra just scoffs and turns away, “I would say that she’s not usually like this, but she is.”

That little spark of annoyance comes back like a fire, and Catra has a thousand things to say on the tip of her tongue, but Adora continues without even noticing Catra’s quick change in mood.

“I’m Adora, and this is Catra,” she introduces.

“I’m Bow,” the boy says with a smile, “This is Glimmer.”

“Are you two alone out here?” Glimmer asks, finally catching her breath enough to pull herself up, but she’s still leaning pretty heavily on the tree.

“Uh, yeah,” Adora looks between Catra and the other two, confusion pushing her eyebrows together, “It’s just been me and Catra since the first wave.”

“You guys have been on your own for a year?” Bow asks, the disbelief in his voice matching the pity in his eyes.

“It’s not like there are many humans to buddy up with,” Catra grumbles.

“You guys are the first unchipped people we’ve seen for weeks,” Adora adds.

Bow looks like he’s about to say something, but Glimmer cuts him off with a quick, “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Bow says, gesturing between Catra and Adora, “They just saved us.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Glimmer insists, crossing her arms and presenting a strong front that Catra finds almost laughable given her height and the overall softness she gives off.

Catra and Adora look at each other, each of them trying to figure out what the two are even talking about.

“But they’re alone!” Bow’s voice is on the shriller side, and if they hadn’t run so deep into the woods, Catra would’ve been quick to quiet him down before he shows the drones and hosts who are probably still looking for them exactly where they’re hiding.

“So?”

Bow gives Glimmer some fairly impressive puppy eyes, and Catra expects Glimmer to break easily, but Glimmer doesn’t falter.

“Angella would tell us to offer them a place,” Bow says quickly, and Catra isn’t sure what part of that sentence finally broke Glimmer, but Glimmer lets out a loud groan and covers her face.

“That’s low.”

“I wouldn’t have had to say it if you would’ve just let me ask.”

“Excuse me,” Catra cuts in, finally tired of listening to their back and forth about whatever it is they’re talking about, “What the fuck is going on?”

“Glimmer and I are from a community called Bright Moon,” Bow gets out before Glimmer can stop him, “It’s in a nearby cave system, and we’re completely hidden away from the drones, sentries, and hosts.”

“If you guys have that community, what are you doing out here?” Adora asks, and Catra’s curious to know the answer too.

Bow turns to Glimmer. “Yeah, why are we outside the gates?” For once, Catra sees a little bit of annoyance cross Bow’s features, and Glimmer falters a bit under his look.

“It’s not important,” Glimmer says quickly, but Catra knows that it’s a lie.

No one in their right mind would risk capture when they have somewhere perfectly safe to stay.

Despite the lie, Catra doesn’t force Glimmer into saying whatever reason she is trying to hide. Instead, she says, “I’m assuming you want us to help you get back, seeing as you don’t seem to have any weapons or supplies.”

“Please,” Bow says with relief clear in his voice, “And when we get back to Bright Moon, you two can join us there.”

“No,” Catra is quick to say.

“Catra—” Adora turns on her, but Catra doesn’t let her continue.

“We don’t need your charity,” Catra hisses out.

Adora grabs her arm, and after saying a quick, “Give us a sec,” she pulls Catra deeper into the woods, away from Bow and Glimmer and offers of safety.

Catra pulls her arm out of Adora’s grip and shoves her away, and Adora has to catch herself on a tree to stop from slamming into it.

“They just want us to help them back to their community, Catra,” Adora says, annoyance seeping into her words, and Catra lets every bit of it fuel her anger.

“No, they don’t,” Catra counters, “You heard them. They want us to join their community too.”

“Would that really be that awful?”

“Yes!” Catra insists, “Adora, we don’t know anything about them or what they want from us. How are you so willing to trust them?”

“You’re right,” Adora says, and Catra is taken back, because she wasn’t expecting Adora to actually listen to her, “We don’t know anything about them or where they’re from, but we do know that they were helpless and now they want help getting back, so let’s help them back, okay?”

“That’s it?” Catra is hesitant, because it’s usually harder to get Adora to agree with her.

“That’s it,” Adora agrees, “As far as we know, they don’t have any weapons and are alone, so we have nothing to fear in helping them back.”

“Unless we get ambushed by whoever is in charge of their community,” Catra says, her voice coming out sharp despite the fact that her anger and annoyance is starting to fade.

“Please,” Adora scoffs, “We’ve lasted this long. I’m not afraid of some people hiding out in a cave.”

Adora smirks, and Catra mirrors it.

“If we get cornered, I grab the girl, you grab the boy?” Catra jokes, crossing her arms.

“I thought it would just be grab whichever is closest,” Adora says, “Although now that I think about it, you might be too short to effectively take Bow hostage.”

Catra glares. “I’m going to smother you in your sleep.”

Adora smiles, wide and cocky. “No, you won’t.”

“I am not that much shorter than you,” Catra walks past Adora, clipping Adora’s shoulder with her own, “And I don’t need you to survive.”

“Yes, I know. You’re totally fine all on your own.”

Adora follows her, and Catra lets her catch up before putting a foot out to trip Adora, and as Adora falls to the leaves and dirt, she grabs onto Catra’s wrist and brings her down too. Catra fights, but Adora has always been stronger, and she’s pinned to the ground, a branch poking uncomfortably into her back.

Catra pushes the heel of her hand into Adora’s cheek and says, “Get off of me, you dumb jock!”

“What?” Adora pulls Catra’s hair, “Can’t finish what you started?”

They hear rustling, and Catra looks up to see the boy and girl looking down on them, the girl looking unimpressed and the boy looking amused.

“Glad to know you’re not dead,” the girl says, “Just trying to kill each other, apparently.”

Adora gets off of Catra and stands before offering a hand that Catra ignores.

“I wouldn’t be so rude to the people who have decided to help you back,” Catra says dryly, brushing leaves and dirt from her clothes.

“Really?” Bow asks excitedly, looking between Catra and Adora, and Adora nods with a smile.

“Thank you!” Bow pulls Glimmer and Adora into a hug, and he would’ve pulled Catra in too, but she ducks at the last moment, his arm barely skimming over her head.

They decide to stay in this patch of woods for the night, partly because they’re all tired after running from the city, but they also want to be sure that the hosts and drones in the town have lost their trail.

Catra takes first watch, and she holds her bat close, her eyes flicking from the trees to the strangers asleep against each other and down to where Adora is sprawled out beside her.

Even though Adora convinced her to help the others back to their community, Catra still doesn’t trust them, and she watches them as much as the trees until it’s time for her to wake Adora up, and even then she pushes her back against Adora’s leg to sleep, every noise and movement waking her up throughout the night.

Catra stays vigilant as they start their journey. They use the map that Adora keeps on her to plan the trip, and as Bow and Glimmer start to recognize landmarks as they get closer to Bright Moon, their excitement gets harder to mask. They start telling Catra and Adora stories about their community, and even though Catra isn’t interested, Adora hangs onto their every word and asks questions to hear more.

Bright Moon sounds perfect, but that just makes Catra more suspicious than before. No place that perfect can exist now, so hidden away that they can have working technology but still stay hidden from the hosts and the drones. Catra’s sure that there’s something sketchy going on, and she’s sure Adora sees it too.

She has to. There’s no way Adora could be so sucked in so quickly.

When they see the gates that close the cave from the rest of the world, Bow pulls Glimmer into an excited hug. Soldiers meet them outside the gates, their guns raised, but when they recognize Bow and Glimmer, they put them away, but they watch Catra and Adora closely.

One of them makes a comment that Glimmer’s mother wants to see her as soon as possible, and Bow and Glimmer are hurried inside.

They raise their guns again when Adora moves to follow them, but Bow explains. He tells the soldier that Catra and Adora saved them, that they helped them get back to Bright Moon, and when the soldier lowers his gun, Bow says, “You should come in and see the place. We’ll give you a meal and a place to sleep for the night.”

Adora says yes before Catra can protest, and even though Catra glares at her, she grabs Catra in a headlock and says, “It’s free food and a bed for the night. I’m not saying no.”

They’re not allowed too far into Bright Moon. Bow explains that everyone who comes in has to leave weapons and supplies, and for those who aren’t staying indefinitely, there are beds set up right outside of the barracks surrounding the gate.

Catra watches the soldiers closely while Bow talks, her eyes following machine guns and her senses tuned into the hard fall of combat boots.

Everything feels off. The soldiers, how they were let in so easily just because Bow and Glimmer vouched for them, the gate that traps them all in.

She doesn’t feel right here, and she’s sure Adora feels it too. She knows Adora has to be having the same thoughts, the same wariness.

Bow brings them dinner in a tent that’s been deemed theirs, and Glimmer comes shortly after, complaining about her mother and the punishment she received for leaving Bright Moon.

Catra barely eats even though she’s starving, and she doesn’t join in the conversation even though Adora does.

She’s just being nice, Catra thinks, watching Adora laugh at something Bow says, She doesn’t want them to know we’re suspicious of them.

Finally, Bow and Glimmer leave, and Adora and Catra are left alone for the first time since they pulled Bow and Glimmer out of that town.

It’s silent at first, and unlike their usual comfortable silences, this one feels heavy, like both of them have something to say but neither of them knows how to say it.

Catra unrolls her sleeping bag and turns, quickly saying, “I don’t like it here,” at the same time Adora says, “We should stay.”

It takes a moment for Adora’s word to register in Catra’s mind, but when they finally click, she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“What?” Catra asks, hoping that she just misheard.

“I think we should stay here,” Adora says.

“Are you insane?”

Adora laughs, but Catra isn’t joking.

“Come on, Catra,” Adora says lightly, “You heard Bow and Glimmer. It’s safe here.”

“I don’t trust it,” Catra says, “They talked about this place like it’s some safe haven when everything outside is hell, and it can’t be. There has to be something wrong with this place.”

“Not everything has to be too good to be true,” Adora takes a step towards Catra, and Catra takes a step back, “Maybe Bright Moon is exactly what it says it is.”

“And maybe you’re just being dumb.”

Adora sighs. “Catra—”

“I thought you felt it too,” Catra cuts her off, “I thought you saw past whatever sparkles and rainbows they were presenting Bright Moon as.”

“I’m just—” Adora doesn’t finish her thought.

“Just what?”  

“Tired, Catra,” Adora says softly, “I’m tired. We’ve been running since we escaped the high school, and I just don’t want to run anymore. Aren’t you tired of running?”

Catra is. She’s so tired of running and hiding and wondering if she’s going to get captured, but that’s just what life is now. Life is constant fear and watching her back, but at least this kind of fear is constant. It’s understandable.

It’s so much different than the fear and suspicion she felt every day in that house with Mrs. Weaver.

“I don’t want to stay here,” Catra insists instead of answering Adora’s question.

“We could be safe here in Bright Moon, Catra,” Adora grabs Catra hand and squeezes, and Catra thinks that it isn’t as comforting as it usually is, “We wouldn’t have to be constantly on the run anymore.”

“Adora, come on,” Catra’s sure that she can get through to Adora if she just reminds Adora of their promise, “We don’t need them to be safe. We have each other.”

“We would still have each other here.”

Catra pulls her hand from Adora’s. “You’re really going to stay?”

She tries not to think about how small her voice is, how desperate she is to hear Adora tell her that she was just kidding before, that of course she isn’t going to stay in Bright Moon.

Adora nods, and Catra feels her heart splinter.

“I’m staying, Catra,” Adora says, the splinters in Catra’s heart cracking and breaking, “And you could stay too.”

“No.”

As Adora tries to come towards her, Catra shoves her away, and Adora loses her footing and trips over her sleeping bag, falling onto it with a soft groan.

“Catra—” Adora’s voice is sad, and Catra can’t look at her.

Instead, she grabs her backpack and runs, the last thing she hears is Adora shouting her name as she pushes past soldiers and leaves Bright Moon’s gates.

~*~

The soldier holding her back releases her, and Adora sinks to the ground.

Catra’s gone, having disappeared into the only natural light that spills into the cave’s opening. She didn’t even look back as she passed through the gate.

Adora hear talking around her, but she can’t focus. Everything is too loud and far too quiet, and her mind keeps replaying Catra leaving over and over and over again, her silhouette black against the sun outside.

Arms fall around her shoulders in something like comfort, and she looks up to see Bow with a sad smile, and tears burn the back of Adora’s eyes.

Everything about this opens old wounds that Adora sewed shut years ago. She feels the same heartbreak, the same anger, the same sadness. Her mind is reeling with a million different ways to get Catra to stay, and a part of her is whispering Go after her, but she knows she can’t.

Catra made her choice. Catra left again.

Adora chose Bright Moon.

No matter what Adora says or does, Catra will never stay.

Glimmer sits beside her, her head tilting to lean against Adora’s shoulder, and Adora chooses comfort, relaxing against Bow and resting her head on Glimmer’s.

They don’t speak.

They don’t need to.

The guards watch them until a command has them scurrying back to their posts, and Angella stands a few feet from the group, watching Glimmer and Bow try to mend some of the pieces, but Angella knows that there’s only so much they can do.

Tears start to spill over, and Adora doesn’t even bother to wipe them away before burying her head in her knees and letting out a sob.

It hurts. The breath shakily entering her lungs feels almost bruising, and the sobs scratching through her throat leave it ripped up, but somehow, it hurts less than everything else.

Every thought tells her that she should’ve done more to get Catra to stay.

That she should’ve done more three years ago.

They flood her and spill over onto the dust and dirt and rocks of Bright Moon’s cave.

Finally, when the sobs quiet down to whimpers and the thoughts go from screams to whispers, Adora lets herself be pulled from the ground, and when she looks up, she expects it to be Bow or Glimmer standing in front of her, but it’s Angella.

“You let her go,” Adora says, her voice cracked and soft.

“It’s what she wanted,” Angella replies, and even though she maintains her stance as leader, she breaks it for a moment to rub tears from Adora’s cheeks.

“Why did she leave again?”

Adora doesn’t mean to ask it. She means for it to remain a thought, but emotional exhaustion pushes it from her head to her voice, and she asks it without meaning to.

Angella smiles, and it’s soft and sad around the edges. “I don’t think she wanted to,” Angella whispers, and despite wanting to push the stray strands of hair back behind Adora’s ear, she just rests a hand on Adora’s shoulder again.

Adora doesn’t understand Angella’s words. She doesn’t get how Catra could want to stay and still go.

“Bow, Glimmer,” Angella says over Adora’s head, “Get Adora back to her room?”

Then her best friends are at her side, Bow holding her close and Glimmer grabbing her hand, and they guide her away from the cave opening and the ghost of Catra leaving and the confusion Angella’s words caused.

~*~

It’s been three days stuck in the high school, three days with no information and nothing from outside.

Hours after the sentries took their places, the athletes and theater kids snuck back to the locker and dressing rooms to change out of costumes and uniforms and grab their phones in the hopes that they might’ve missed texts or calls from parents or siblings.

There was no connection. No texts.

Nothing.

They still have electricity and running water, but the televisions just keep repeating, “Be calm. Do not leave,” and the few radios they could find just played static.

In the middle of the night, as all of the other students try sleeping on whatever soft things they found when looking through the classrooms, Catra stays awake, sitting close to Adora with her back to a wall.

Down the hallway, she can see the doors that lead out to one of the courtyards and it is completely covered.

A sentry is stationed on each door, never moving.

She figures they don’t have to, since they don’t exactly look human. They don’t move; they don’t even twitch.

“Hey.” Catra feels a hand wrap around her wrist, and she’s so focused on watching the sentries that she pulls away, but Adora holds on, her grip warm.

“You should sleep,” Adora says as she sits up.

“I don’t understand how you and all of these other idiots can,” Catra whispers, looking around at all of the other high schoolers asleep around them, the teachers and coaches looking like they fell asleep while keeping watch.

“You haven’t slept since this started, Catra,” Adora tries reasoning, and she tugs at Catra gently.

Catra lets herself be tugged, lets Adora pull her so that Catra’s leaning into her, but she doesn’t stop watching the sentries.

Adora follows Catra’s line of sight. “They still haven’t moved?”

Catra nods her head no.

“I wonder why they’re here,” Adora thinks out loud.

“Nothing good,” Catra whispers, feeling herself start to slump against Adora, her eyes slipping closed.

Until she sees one of them move.

She pulls away from Adora as the sentries turn to one another, and Catra finally gets a better look at them.

They’re more robotic than anything, one of their arms ending in some sort of gun that looks like it came right out of one of Rogelio’s Sci-Fi novels.

“We need to—” Adora says, but she’s cut off as the sentries turn in unison and begin firing.

Catra tackles Adora, covering Adora’s body with her own and using the force to push them back and out of the way of green blasts.

“We need to get out of here!” Catra looks up and immediately takes cover again as a green blast soars right over her head and explodes into the wall, covering them in dust.

“We can’t leave everyone else behind!”

Catra wants to argue, wants to tell Adora that it’s useless, but there’s no time. One second of arguing could get them dead.

“Fine,” Catra pulls herself up and drags Adora up too, “You take that side, I’ve got this one.”

Just as Catra says it, a few sentries appear in the cafeteria, their blasters pointed at the students. Catra looks behind her to see the two sentries that were guarding the courtyard coming up behind her and Adora, and she shoves Adora down a hallway she knows leads further into the school and away from any doors.

“Catra—” Adora tries to turn around, but Catra catches her.

“We’re outnumbered,” Catra says simply, “It’s a useless fight that’s just going to get us killed.”

“We can’t just leave them to die.”

The sentries that were behind them haven’t turned down the hallway yet, and Catra is quick to shove Adora into one of the classrooms, following quickly and closing the door before anyone or anything could see where they went.

The TV in the room changes messages. The robotic voice repeating, “Be calm. Do not leave,” stops, and there’s just a red screen with the word, “Submit,” across it.

A green beam shines through the small window in the door, and Catra pushes Adora into the corner of the room, just barely making it out of the beam’s way in time.

It goes away and comes back before going away completely, and Catra waits a moment before saying, “We’re no good to anyone if we’re with that group. There’s no way they’re going to escape that ambush.”

“So how do we help them?”

We don’t, Catra thinks, standing up and going to the door to try and see what’s happening.

As far as she can tell, the sentries are just keeping everyone left in the school held in the cafeteria. They have formed a circle around them, each of them with a blaster pointed at every human, and she notices something new.

Something flies overhead, some kind of drone, and it seems to be scanning everything in the school, almost like it is logging the information.

Adora comes up behind Catra and watches everything that’s happening too.

“They’re not doing anything,” Adora whispers, her eyes following the drones.

“It’s almost like they’re taking stock,” Catra remarks, “The sentries too. It’s like they’re logging everything that’s in the school.”

“What do you think they want?”

One of the sentries steps forward, grabbing a girl that Catra recognizes as one of Adora’s teammates, and it lifts her up, holding her even as the girl fights back. It scans her from the top of her head down to her feet and then places her back down, and Catra’s impressed when she tries making a run for it, but the sentries are faster. One of them, a different one than the one that scanned her, steps into her path, and she barely catches herself before running right into it.

The sentry that scanned her says something, but it’s some sort of language that Catra doesn’t know, and she’s guessing that it’s probably not from this planet.

Then a sentry grabs the girl and takes her from the cafeteria, the others moving to stop the members of the soccer team that try to get up and grab their teammate, and Catra already has a hand on Adora’s wrist to stop her from doing anything idiotic, like trying to save her.

“Where do you think they’re taking her?” Adora asks, watching as they start the process again with someone from Catra’s team.

“Nowhere good.” Catra pulls her attention from whatever is happening in the cafeteria and looks down the hallway, noticing that it’s empty for now. “We should get moving while they’re distracted.”

Catra turns to see Adora with her arms crossed and a look that Catra knows means she’s ready to disagree.

“There’s nothing we can do for them,” Catra argues before Adora can say anything, “They are caught and trapped, and we’re two people with absolutely nothing to take down at least twenty of those sentries. Trying to save them is going to get us killed.”

“I can’t just leave knowing that there are people here, Catra.”

“You’re going to have to,” Catra looks back to the cafeteria, “We need to get out of here before they start checking the classrooms.”

Adora sits there and thinks it over, and every second that it takes for her to come to a decision puts Catra on edge. She keeps looking through the window, making sure that the sentries haven’t started looking for anyone else that may be deeper in the school.

Finally, Catra breaks.

“Goddammit, Adora,” Catra growls, grabbing Adora’s wrist and cracking the door open.

Adora doesn’t say anything as Catra pulls her into the hallway. She knows this will be a conversation they have if they make it out of the school, but they are running out of time.

The sentries are distracted with everyone and the drones are still flying overhead, so Catra pulls Adora in the opposite direction, their footsteps quiet as they run. Catra isn’t sure if they are attracted to or sensitive to sound, but she figures they’re better safe than sorry.

She stops them at every corner to look around before making a turn, taking the hallways she knows leads through the band hallway and out a set of doors where the marching band packs their equipment for competitions.

They stop to look down the hallway that ends in a set of double doors that leads out to a parking lot, and Catra expects for there to be sentries stationed there, but it’s empty.

“This feels like a trap,” Catra whispers.

“It’s more likely that every sentry sent to the high school are in the cafeteria,” Adora reasons, turning to watch their backs.

“You think they don’t have the numbers to have both?”

“Maybe not yet,” Adora says, “You don’t send everyone on the first wave, right?”

Catra nods and starts walking towards the doors, but Adora catches her wrist.

“What’re you doing?” Adora hisses, looking around them frantically.

“There’s only one way to know,” Catra yanks her wrist from Adora’s grip, “If there’s no one there, we’re fine. If there is and we can’t see them, then there’s no way we’re making it out of the school anyway. Might as well try.”

“It’s dumb.”

“So are you, but I still keep you around.”

“Really, Catra?”

Catra just smirks.

“Fine.” Adora starts walking towards the doors, and Catra’s quick on her heels.

Outside seems normal, but Catra can see the shadow that the ship casts down over the school, and as she looks off into the distance, there are a few more ships covering different parts of the town.

There aren’t any sentries around, though, and the sky is free of any drones as far as they can tell.

“We should stick close to the building,” Adora suggests, “Just in case we need to rush inside to take cover.”

“Agreed.”

They choose a direction at random, hoping that it is the right way, and they don’t run into anything until they reach the front doors of the school.

Catra sees it first, grabbing onto Adora to stop her from going forward, and they watch as one of the theater kids is dragged out of the school. He’s kicking and trying to get out of the sentry’s hold, but it’s useless.

The sentry drags him aboard a vehicle that doesn’t look like anything they have on Earth, and as the back doors open, Catra sees every member of the soccer and track team loaded inside, each of them looking terrified.

The sentry closes the door behind the theater kid and the vehicle drives away.

Catra expects the sentry to go back inside, but it’s followed by all of the other sentries and drones from the school, and Catra and Adora take cover where their beams can’t reach them, but they don’t have to. The sentries and drones leave without looking back.

Adora makes a break for the door and runs back in before Catra can stop her, and Catra follows her all the way back to the cafeteria.

She expects to find it empty, but it’s not. Everyone that wasn’t loaded into the transport vehicles lies dead on the floor, smoke rising from where the sentries shot them.

Adora falls to her knees, her eyes wide in disbelief, and Catra looks away, but she can’t unsee what happened.

“We couldn’t save them, Adora,” Catra says gently.

“We could’ve tried,” Adora whispers, and Catra sees a few tears start to fall down Adora’s cheeks.

“If we did, we’d be right here with them,” Catra tries to comfort Adora, but it’s never been something she’s good at.

Adora doesn’t say anything, and Catra drops down in front of her.

“Hey,” Catra’s voice is soft, “We need to get going. I know they just left, but we don’t know if they plan to come back.”

She doesn’t get a response from Adora, so she pulls Adora to her feet, slinging one of Adora’s arms around her shoulder so that she can lead Adora out of the school.

“Catra?” Adora’s voice is small and broken.

“Yeah?”

“What do you think they’re doing with all of the people that they took?”

“I don’t know,” Catra thinks of everyone shoved into the transport, “But I doubt we want to find out.”

~*~

Catra’s first mistake is assuming that the town she got cornered in is empty. She’s studied the sentries’ and drones’ patterns for three years now, and whenever they clear a town, they don’t come back until weeks or months later when they think other humans might be inhabiting it.

Catra’s second mistake is being distracted and out in the open. Her thoughts are filled with the hurt look on Adora’s face and the hole that leaving dug out in her heart, and she doesn’t notice a group of sentries hidden in an alley until it’s too late.

The sirens go off, and Catra is surrounded before she can run, their sensors scanning her from head to toe.

One of the sentries says something in their alien language, and then two hosts grab Catra.

She fights. She jabs and kicks and is able to get away for just a second, but a sentry steps forward and aims a blaster at her head.

“Do it then,” Catra taunts, watching as the other sentries lift their blasters.

It doesn’t shoot.

“Kill me!” Catra shouts, “I’ve already gotten away once, so just do it!”

The sentry moves, and Catra thinks she might’ve convinced it to kill her, but the arm comes down hard, and everything blacks out before she’s even hit the ground.

#she-ra #she ra #spop #she ra fanfiction #spop fanfiction #catra #adora #catradora #catradora fanfiction #she-ra big bang 2021 #bow #glimmer #angella #kyle #sorry to anyone who likes kyle #perfuma #angst #alien invasion au #modern au #human au #apparently I didn't do this last year for my big bang fic #but rules are as usual #read this far in the tags #come say hello #either through dm or asks or anything like that #and I'll write you a short little fic #whatever you want #no one has won this contest yet #so someone should really get on that

[mst3kproject]

The Atomic Submarine

I’ve had this one sitting around for a while. It’s a pretty dull 1950’s White Men vs the Saucer People movie, which attempts to differentiate itself from the crowd by taking place underwater instead of in outer space.  It features Brett Halsey from The Girl in Lover’s Lane and a few moments of Jean Moorhead from The Violent Years, and has parts for Jack Mulhall and Paul Dubov from The She-Creature.

It is… the future.  The US and the USSR are friends now, and passenger submarines regularly run between the two under the polar ice!  But all is not well – the USS Sturgeon, largest of this arctic fleet, suffers a reactor meltdown somewhere just shy of the North Pole, resulting in the loss of all hands.  The Pentagon convenes some guys in suits, and decides to send another submarine, the Tiger Shark, to figure out what happened.  When the Tiger Shark encounters a mysterious electrical phenomenon, their scientists conclude that the only possible answer is creatures from outer space!

I seem to be making a tradition out of starting with the shitty science, so here’s a good one: the Flying Saucer’s source of power is stated to be magnetic – that’s why it has to return to the North Pole every time it sinks a ship, to recharge.  Except… that’s not how the magnetic field works.  In the late fifties and early sixties, the north magnetic pole was somewhere near the southern end of Bathurst Island in Nunavut (as of 2020, it’s on its way into Siberia and is actually closer to geographic north than it’s been in centuries).  Sailors would definitely know that, making this plot point kind of hilarious to anybody actually in the navy.

I mentioned Moorhead… she and Joi Lansing (who was once in a movie called Queen of Outer Space) are the only women in the entire movie.  They occur in the same scene, which seems to serve only to remind us that women exist, and have no effect on the plot whatsoever.  Once we’ve entered the submarine where most of the film is set, the cast is entirely similar-looking guys in uniforms, and there are no romantic reunions at the end.  The Atomic Submarine couldn’t even give us the requisite 50’s movie Cute Girl Scientist.  I guess they were going for realism in their story about trans-arctic Soviet passenger subs and one-eyed semi-aquatic aliens.

On to the actual movie.  The first ‘character’ we hear from is the deep-voiced 50’s narrator, who sounds exactly like the guy rhapsodizing about radar at the beginning of The Deadly Mantis, but I looked him up and Patrick Michaels has never narrated any other movie.  I guess there’s just a category of men that have 50’s Movie Narrator Voice. His job is to sound portentous as he talks about things that are either irrelevant or else stuff the movie could have showed us but chose to tell instead.  He falls silent for long stretches of movie and then pops up again, interrupting the flow of the story every time.

The special effects in The Atomic Submarine are okay – they’re nothing ground-breaking, but considerable effort seems to have gone into them.  The saucer and the submarines are obviously small models but they’re nice and the underwater photography is quite atmospheric.  I especially like the little submersible the Tiger Shark carries, the Lungfish, which was clearly designed based on ideas for such machines that were in the works at the time.  There’s a shot of the saucer breaking through the ice cap and rising into the air which looks really good until the saucer itself actually emerges, wobbling on top of a rod.  The one-eyed alien inside the saucer is nice and gooey and parts of it look like they’re made out of living sea creatures.

Like many movies on MST3K, The Atomic Submarine has some germs of good ideas in it, and like the rest of them, fails to do anything much with it.  The flying saucer – maybe we should call it a swimming saucer – is described as a living organism, possibly the same organism as its pilot.  The aliens themselves are biological engineers who will use humans as a template for altering themselves to live on Earth.  That’s pretty cool, but is ultimately not important to the plot. Besides the pilot, who seems to have been assembled by a variety of marine organisms, the inside of the saucer doesn’t look particularly organic.  If nothing else they had an opportunity for some really neat visuals here, but let it slip through their fingers.

The alien intelligence remains unseen and inscrutable for much of the movie.  This theoretically builds suspense but there’s honestly not a lot of suspense here. A plot summary makes The Atomic Submarine sound like an exciting adventure, but the impression one gets from actually watching the film is that it’s kind of a day at the office.  In a way, that’s fairly realistic – the crew of the Tiger Shark aren’t a ragtag group of misfits, they’re professionals doing their jobs which just so happen on this particular day to include saving the world.  Unfortunately, this doesn’t make for a very exciting movie.  An awful lot of scenes are just suspenseful music over footage of men in uniforms frowning at things.  Rather than feeling any excitement, the audience just wants to get to the damn aliens already.

The movie’s only about half over by the time we do enter the swimming saucer to meet the one-eyed, tentacled beast within, but it feels like we’ve been here for hours.  Once the boarding party enters the craft, some things do happen but they’re still not exciting.  Three of the four men die, one by being cut in half by a sliding door and two getting melted by intense radiation – these deaths are surprisingly explicit and gruesome for a 50’s movie, but they’re drawn out far too long and don’t serve a plot purpose.  If the alien killed the men to stop them cutting the Tiger Shark free of where it rammed the vessel’s hull, that would be one thing, but it appears to do it just because.

The main characters all sort of look the same, as lumpy-faced white guys in old movies tend to do.  The only one who really stands out from the crowd is Dr. Nielson, the son of the scientist who invented the Lungfish and an avowed pacifist who’s only on this mission because he knows his father wanted to see the sub used.  He has a running beef with an old friend of his father’s who thinks he’s a coward, all talk and no action.  This is supposed to be the movie’s main arc and yet it fails to go anywhere on just about every level.

Neilson spends much of the movie insisting that he isn’t a coward, which one would assume is a lead-up to him doing something heroic.  It’s not. He’s just here to drive the Lungfish and that’s literally the only thing he does – he takes the boarding party to the saucer, and then sits there and waits for the sole survivor to return.  There’s a bit where the captain of the Tiger Shark decides to ram the saucer with the sub in order to get through its defenses, and Neilson speaks up, pointing out that this is a suicide mission.  Nothing ever comes of this, and it might be evidence of his ‘cowardice’ but I’m not sure… the movie is not nearly as interested in his character as it ought to be.  At the end he seems to have decided that war is cool after all… or maybe the guy he was arguing about has agreed that we need to set aside war with other humans in order to focus on war with aliens.  It’s very unclear.

If there’s a regular passenger service between Alaska and Siberia, doesn’t that suggest that in this future we’ve already set aside war with other humans?  I’m not sure this movie thought very hard about its worldbuilding.

In fact, watching the ending I don’t even know if the guy Neilson talks to at the end was the same man he was arguing with earlier, because, as I mentioned, the actors all look similar. Until that final conversation I thought the other dude had died aboard the saucer and honestly I’m still not convinced he didn’t.  What mainly makes me doubt the idea is that it would mean there’s no closure to the feud at all, which would be the height of poor writing.  I’ve seen movies where I would buy that they were just that careless, but other aspects of The Atomic Submarine are competent enough that I want to give them the benefit of the doubt.

So what does this movie want us to think about war and the military?  It certainly suggests that they’re necessary, since after all we have aliens to defend ourselves from.  One of the scientists on board is British and another has what I think is supposed to be a Russian accent, so perhaps its extolling the virtues of international cooperation.  This would fit with Neilson’s statements about how we need to leave war behind, but if that’s the movie’s point it hobbles itself by never talking about it in that light.

This is all made that much more annoying because, as I said, the effects are decent, the cinematography is pretty good, and while none of the actors are stellar they all do their best.  There’s no real reason why The Atomic Submarine had to be so dull and messy, unless they were just saddled with a half-assed script. Even then, they made a pretty good effort to get some gold out of the dross.  You might find The Atomic Submarine worth watching even if only to think about what might have been.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the atomic submarine #50s

[tsukikento]

Empathetic Ch. 5

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you're in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family's past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: This is also posted on ao3 under @allie_win. I’m transferring it over here, pls let me know if you like it! I love your comments! Just a note that any italics means thoughts.

(series masterlist)

~~

When you woke back up, your head was pounding and you were on your side. As your vision came into focus, the first thing to hit you was how goddamn bright it was. Next was the crushed building to your left. Your head pounded even harder and you realized you must have been the person to cause the imprint in the building.

Kaminari was looming over you, his electric cage was covering both of you. You blinked up at him and he smiled down at you. “Glad you're awake,” He quietly spoke.

You groaned in response and slowly sat up. Chaos was around you and Bakugou worked hard to keep anyone from getting to you and Kaminari. He somehow looked even worse than before.

At that moment, a blast of fire came in your direction and Bakugou quickly hit Todoroki and stopped the fire just in time before it reached you and Kaminari. The heat warmed your body for a moment before the cold wind came crashing back, tickling your skin and giving you goosebumps.

You felt like a burden considering your teammates had to watch after you when they should be defeating the other teams. You looked around you to see how intense the situation was. Sato, Todoroki, and Ojirou were the only people you saw. In the distance, you saw Koda laying on the ground, presumably unconscious.

Where’s Hagakure? I thought she was with Ojirou. Maybe she found Ashido and Uraraka… I wonder where Ashido is anyways.

“Kaminari,” Your voice was hoarse and you coughed a couple of times because of how dry your mouth was. You paused and the electric boy looked back at you after watching Bakugou get a hit on Sato. “Don’t worry about me, just help Bakugou.”

Your voice was still weak and you really needed a glass of water, but there were more important things to deal with at that moment.

Kaminari was reluctant to drop his shield so you weakly grabbed his arm and used your quirk to reassure him.

“Stop that,” Kaminari spoke, pushing your hand off of him, “Just rest okay? I know you can handle yourself.”

You nodded as Kaminari stood up, effectively dropping his shield. He looked around and rushed towards Ojirou, his hands already twitching as electricity sparked from his fingers.

You watched the battle, the sounds of fighting, specifically the explosions, making your headache worse. Kaminari was shocking Ojirou and Sato with the disks attached to his wrists while Bakugou fought off Todoroki. You tore your attention away from the explosions to try and locate Ashido. Her thoughts were unclear and almost like static in your head, but you could hear enough.

Ashido was still fighting against Uraraka, and yes, Hagakure was with them. Ashido didn’t seem too tired which meant you couldn’t have been knocked out for more than a few minutes.

You slowly stood up from your spot on the ground, your head pounded as if begging you to sit back down. Honestly, you really wanted to curl up with some hot cocoa and watch TV, but you knew you couldn’t have everything you ever wanted. And so, you ignored the headache and watched the situation unfold, thinking about what you could do next.

Bakugou looked pretty beaten up, and it would be in your best interest to help him against Todoroki, but his ice and fire powers would be difficult to fight against. It was as if he only needed one second to come up with a plan and execute it, making it horribly difficult for you to dodge something so strong. Bakugou could escape his attacks or even take them head-on, but you were not fast enough or strong enough to break free of his ice walls.

You turned to Kaminari, who had done good damage against Sato and Ojirou. Both men needed to touch someone to damage them, and Sato was pretty slow, meaning Kaminari was able to get some decent hits on them.

In fact, Sato looked like he was slowing down drastically.

What is this kid’s quirk again? Something to do with strength?

Either way, you knew you could help Kaminari more than Bakugou so you ran towards him, making quick work of devising a plan. You ran towards the sluggish Sato, who saw you coming and got ready for a fight.

If you didn’t dodge and he hit you, it would hurt. Badly. However, if you dodged and grabbed any part of him, you knew you could put him to sleep easily. You ran faster and Sato aimed to punch you in the jaw. At the very last moment, you ducked, his punch instead hitting the air. From below, you grabbed his chin instead of punching it which was your usual move.

Unlike most people, Sato was already tired when you tried to make him sleep. The switch was already there, and within only a moment, you had him asleep. Although tired, you knew he would eventually wake up if you let go. You needed him to pass out but Kaminari and Bakugou were both busy, and you needed to do this yourself.

Still holding on to Sato by his shoulder, you started punching. His body panicked as you punched him, writhing in place. In fact, you lost your grip on his shoulder for a moment and he almost woke up, but you reassured him with your empath quirk while still punching.

The calm Sato was now bleeding from his nose, but he wasn’t quite there yet. Just a few more punches and then he would finally be passed out.

One. His heart rate sped up once more and his body tensed.

Two. You calmed him down and told him to just rest.

Three. He was finally passed out, his body no longer strong enough to fight against you to stay awake.

You sighed and let go on him, taking a few breaths to calm your headache. You took this moment to check back in on Ashido and--

Holy shit!

She had it! She had the flag and was heading back to base. Hagakure was trailing behind her, but Uraraka was defeated and had a horrible stomach ache preventing her from fighting against Ashido anymore.

Ashido was tired. Her body was slower than usual. And you knew Hagakure was planning something. You could run away from the current battle to help her. That would probably be the best choice, but in this condition, you were too slow to catch up to them. Bakugou would be the fastest, but you also needed him against Todoroki. That meant that the best choice would be Kaminari.

Would Kaminari be able to fight against Hagakure though? She must have taken off her clothes to go full invisible and that might just ruin Kaminari to know.

You tried to stand up, knowing it would be better if you chased after Ashido to stop Hagakure. However, you still needed to tell someone where you were going.

At that moment, Bakugou blasted up to the sky, avoiding a blow from Todoroki. He was now closer to you than he was to Shouto and so you ran towards him, albeit quite slow.

“Bakugou!”

The blond boy looked at you and worry rushed through his head at the sight of your slow body running towards him. You tried to prevent your cheeks from flushing pink at the idea of Bakugou caring for you, so you brushed it off with the idea that Bakugou needed you healthy to win. He quickly propelled himself towards you. His brows were furrowed with concern as his eyes wandered across your body to check your injuries.

“Stop worrying, I’m fine,” You mumbled as he inspected your head for any cuts. “If anything you are worse off than me.”

“Hardly,” He scoffed, “I can handle myself, you passed out at the first hit.” He pointed his finger towards you and you quickly pushed it out of your face.

“Shut up, I didn’t come here to bicker about who is worse off, I need to tell you something important,” You replied.

He looked at Todoroki, who was currently making his way towards you, “Hold on, I’ll get us somewhere safer.”

“What?”

Bakugou grabbed you by your waist before you could even process the plan in his head. God, I am way too fucking tired, you thought as the smell of smoke and caramel filled your senses. Bakugou used his other hand to blast you both up and onto a building. It was one of the tallest buildings and it would take Todoroki a moment to reach you at such heights.

Your face flushed at Bakugou’s muscular arm holding you. You couldn’t tell if you were hot because of your embarrassment or because of Bakugou’s explosions. Before you could figure it out, you and Bakugou landed safely on the building and he quickly let go of you. You felt much colder now.

“Okay, tell me,” Bakugou said, getting straight to business. Obviously not startled about holding you by your waist and carrying you to safety.

“Oh, um,” You stuttered, trying to refocus your attention on what was important and not on how goddamn attractive Bakugou looked. Has he ever carried anyone else to safety like that before? You shook the thoughts out of your head, knowing full well that Bakugou thought you were and bumbling idiot. “A-ashido got their flag,” You practically yelled, “but Hagakure is chasing after her and is still at full strength while Ashido is pretty tired. I need to get to them to help her. So, I’m leaving.”

Bakugou looked you up and down. You can’t catch them in time, you are too beat up, he thought.

“I know, but you need to be here against Todoroki and Kaminari can’t fight against a naked girl,” You replied.

I guess so, he thought. He took a moment to look down over the building and onto the battle. You took a few steps to follow his lead.

Sato and Koda were passed out on the ground and Ojirou and Todoroki were currently fighting against Kaminari, who was wondering where you and Bakugou went.

“He can handle himself, he hasn’t even used his strongest move yet,” Bakugou responded. “I have time to get you to wherever and back here to help him.”

“No, Bakugou, don’t worry about me--”

“I’m not worried about you. I want to win,” Bakugou interrupted. “So just shut up.” He wiped his right hand off on his pants before using said hand to grab you by the waist again. His hand swept around and happened to brush past your training uniform so Bakugou was touching your skin. The heat from his hand warmed your cold skin.

You knew he was nervous from not only his thoughts, but the emotions he held that rushed through you at the slightest touch. However, your brain was also rushing with wild thoughts and concerns. Your face was flush red and you looked down so Bakugou couldn’t see your bashful appearance.

Part of you was happy Bakugou was just as nervous as you. But then again, your heart was beating so fast. Bakugou pulled you against his chest. You could hear your heart beating much faster than his, which meant he could also hear your heart beating much faster.

How is he already calm, his heart is barely beating! And here I am, an absolute mess!

When Bakugou pushed off, pulling you out of your thoughts, you yelped. Bakugou ignored the noise and kept flying before stopping a few buildings over. “Where is that invisible brat?”

“That way,” You pointed towards the center where all sectors meet, ignoring the insult towards your friend. If you could even say she was your friend.

Bakugou blasted off again, grunting in response. Every now and then, he would land on top of a building and you would use your quirk to locate Hagakure. Soon enough, the distance was minimal. “Quiet down, we are approaching,” You said.

Bakugou looked down at you from on top of the short building. “I can’t be quiet, I have explosions that come out of my hands.”

“Okay, okay, whatever. Just hop over to that pointy building,” You responded.

Bakugou listened to you and blasted off towards the building. Once he landed on top, he looked at you for further directions.

You placed your finger on top of your mouth in a ‘shushing’ motion to tell Bakugou not to make noise. You pointed down and Bakugou followed your fingers to see Ashido sliding through the streets with the flag. He looked back up at you and you leaned into his ear. “Hagakure is right behind her, waiting till Ashido is back at the base so she can take both flags.”

Bakugou nodded in response. Do you want me to land you with Pinky?

You shook your head. “No, I wanna fight her on my own while Ashido gets back to base.”

Bakugou looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. I don’t think you are strong enough for that, idiot.

“Yeah, I am,” You pouted. “Don’t underestimate me Bakugou.”

“I’m not, you beat me before so I know you are strong. However, you are pale and cold. You lost blood and I am sure your head is still pounding,” He countered, crossing his arms in defiance.

You groaned at how well Bakugou knew you. Someone you only met a few days ago shouldn’t know you this well, and yet here he was, proving you wrong. “I can do it, okay? Just trust me a bit.”

He looked at you. Really looked at you. His crimson orbs stared into your soul and you had half a mind to wonder if maybe he was an Empath too. If only he knew that he was making you so goddamn nervous with just one look.

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

“Okay,” He responded. “I trust you. I’ll drop you off and you’ll kick her ass. Then I’ll kick Half-and-Half’s ass. Then Deku’s. Then we will win.”

“Ah,” You responded, “So ass is necessary when winning. What good priorities.”

“I didn’t say that you pervert!” Bakugou practically yelled.

You chuckled in response and Bakugou just groaned even harder.

“Shut up, you bastard,” Bakugou mumbled.

“Okay, okay!” Your laughter finally died down. “Just bring me to that building and let me down.”

Bakugou grumbled and tightened his grip on your waist--

Holy shit his hand was still on my waist.

--and blasted off effortlessly.

When you landed on the building, you scoured the ground to find Hagakure and Ashido a few paces ahead. You pointed at the opposite side of the street which was out of view for the other two girls and Bakugou easily landed you on the ground without drawing any attention to the both of you.

“Thanks,” You mumbled, pushing yourself out of his grasp and brushing invisible dirt off your clothes.

Bakugou merely nodded in response. Don’t fuck up.  

“I won’t,” You retorted.

Bakugou smirked at you and your insides flipped.

When you first saw him fight in the sports festival, you thought he was cool and handsome. And now here you were, face to face with someone even more attractive than you perceived and even stronger than before. You couldn’t help but smile back at him as the pink hues in your face showed themselves again.

Bakugou turned around and quickly ran off towards the battle of ice and electricity that erupted in the distance. Bakugou pushed himself into the air using both his hands to move faster than he was when he carried you.

You turned back around to face the tall, cement buildings and concentrated on locating Ashido and Hagakure. Neither of them were too far away, and luckily they had no idea you were here.

You made quick work of quietly trekking over to Hagakure, trying to figure out how you could sneak up on the sneakiest person in your class.

Your head pounded as you once again tried to hone in on exactly where Hagakure was hiding. You were so tired and craved a nap, and yet you still needed to get the Blue Team’s flag and ensure Ashido’s safety. You were too scared to sigh and kept your shallow breaths to yourself as you followed behind Hagakure, waiting for the perfect time to attack.

The invisible girl was currently focused on Ashido who just slid out of view with the green flag in hand. The pink girl had no idea Hagakure was behind her, and thought she was completely in the clear. You closed in on Hagakure, ready to punch the air you hoped she was standing. Toru was focused on Mina and didn’t hear you approaching. Although you weren’t sure exactly where she was, you just needed to touch her in order to ensure Ashido’s safety.

You reached out in front of you and grabbed onto whatever you could, not quite sure what it was. The invisible girl gasped and rotated out of your grasp.

“Y/N,” Hagakure squealed, “You found me!”

You smiled at your friend but took her surprised state as a chance to attack. You clenched your hand into a fist and punched eye level to yourself, hoping you hit her in the nose.

The girl groaned, proving your assumption was right. You heard her take a few steps back so you pushed forward and grabbed at her, trying your best to make the girl sleep. Unfortunately, you didn’t grab anything and Hagakure regained her stance by the time you realized.

“Warp Refraction: Say Cheese!”

A burst of light shot through the sky and reflected off of Hagakure, effectively blinding you. “Aw, fuck!” You stepped back and closed your eyes because of the brightness.Your head pounded and you knew Hagakure was planning on punching you, but the sharp light prevented you from moving.

A sharp pain shot through your stomach and you suddenly felt like vomiting.

You groaned and shot down to your knees.

Focus! You told yourself. You needed to ignore the light and just use your quirk to create a picture of the scene in your head.

I got her now, Hagakure thought. I’ll kick her and then-

As her shin raced towards your right side, you blocked her hit with your forearm and used your other hand to reach up to grab her arm. You pulled the invisible girl towards the ground. “Sleep!” You shouted, more for yourself than for her. You worried you wouldn’t be strong enough to actually make Hagakure fall asleep. However, the lightswitch appeared in the cavern of her mind and you flipped the switch as if it was your last dying action.

You breathed over the sleeping girl and debated your next actions. You should punch her till she passed out, but wondered if you could bring yourself to hurt your friend. You were way too tired to push her into a sleep that would last long enough to secure Ashido’s safety.

You decided to drag Hagakure into the nearest building. You knew you needed to make her pass out, there was no point in forcing her into a sleep she would just wake up from. You sighed before pulling back your fist. Although you couldn’t see Toru, you still punched the girl, using your opposite hand to get a reading on her emotions. In the body, you could tell when someone is passed out and when that moment came, you finally stopped and sat down for just a moment.

You needed to stand up. You couldn’t stop.

Maybe you just weren’t cut out for this class. Maybe you needed to be put into a lower class level. Your old school never did exercise this intense. You ignored the depressing thoughts and told yourself to just finish this battle. Finish this battle and then you can figure out whether or not you deserve to be here.

You pushed yourself off the ground when a groan. Your stomach didn’t hurt from the punch anymore, but your knees were definitely bruised and your head still pounded with every use of your quirk.

Speaking of which, you left the building and faced where you saw Ashido disappear from minutes ago. You used to quirk to locate her and noticed how far away she was. Although tired, you didn’t put much thought into your actions and started running after the pink girl. You knew she was much faster than you when it came to travel distance, but part of your skills was the speed to avoid moves and you hoped that would pay off today.

Ashido was close to crossing the boundary, close to safety, proving that she was much faster than you, making it difficult to catch up to her. You knew she would stop eventually though, she didn’t remember where the base was set up. When Ashido crossed over the tape into the orange sector, she paused for a moment, debating which way to go. During that time, you were able to catch up just enough that you could call out to her. No one was near, so you didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing.

“Ashido-kun!” You called out to your friend as you watched her turn the corner down an alleyway.

Within a moment, her head popped back around the corner, and she smiled brightly at you. “Y/L/N-kun!” She used her quirk to slide across the concrete road towards you. “It’s so great to see a teammate!” She stopped in front of you and waved the flag like a child who won a toy. “Look what I got!”

You smiled in response. “Good job!”

Ashido’s smile widened. You didn’t have to touch her to realize how excited she was to see you and to be helping the team so greatly. “Can you help me find the team? And you can tell me how everyone is doing on the way.”

“Yeah, just follow me,” You responded, before heading towards your team.

You were able to use your quirk to see that Kirishima and the others were still located in the corner they originally stationed themselves in.

After making a path in your mind on how to reach your team, you started telling Ashido how the battle was going on your side. “So, I know for sure that I and Kaminari knocked out Tsu. While we fought her, the other teams found Bakugou and teamed up against him. We caught up with them. By the time I left, Sato and Koda were unconscious leaving Todoroki and Ojirou to fight against Kaminari and Bakugou.”

You took a moment to check back in on Kirishima’s location as Ashido listened tentatively to your story. “I think that they can beat Ojirou, but Todoroki is difficult. If Bakugou and Kaminari get so caught up on fighting against Todoroki, we won’t be able to go to the blue sector and get their flag.”

“Yeah, I’m sure everyone is going to come after us now,” Ashido added.

“I wonder if the Green Team is still fighting the Blue Team,” You mumbled.

“Can you check?” Ashido asked.

“Yeah,” You sighed, “But my head really hurts from using it so much, so I don’t think I should. It’s probably more important that I rest up.”

Ashido hummed in response, not asking you any more questions.

After another minute of walking, you finally came into view of your team. You were able to see Kirishima’s prominent red hair shining in the sun. Around him was tape attached from wall to wall, as if blockading them in, no one was small enough to reach through the small gaps left. However, you knew multiple people in the class you could blast through or even sacrifice themselves to create an opening for others. Kirishima turned around when Ashido yelled out his name.

“Hey!” He smiled at you both, excited you captured their flag. He turned to look at something you couldn’t see. “Sero! Take some tape down so Ashido-kun and Y/L/N-kun can get in!”

Sero walked into view and casually waved at the two of you before using the sharp edge at the end of his helmet to cut some tape. He gave you and Ashido just enough room to get into the area before he taped it back up.

“How is everything?” Sero asked as Kirishima and Aoyama put the flag next to the orange one.

“Okay,” You mumbled. “We were able to knock a few people from the other teams out but,” You paused for a moment to hone in on Bakugou’s thoughts, “Bakugou and Kaminari are fighting Todoroki. I know Bakugou is pretty beat up, but Kaminari is in good shape.”

“Are they in the Blue sector?” Aoyama asked.

“Um, no. Still in the green sector.” You took in a deep breath and concentrated on the Blue sector. “The Green and Blue team are still fighting over the flag. It’s Midoriya, Iida, and Tokoyami against Momo, Jirou, Shoji, and Mineta. Although I’m pretty sure Mineta has passed out, I can’t find his thoughts and that usually means he’s asleep.”

Kirishima hummed in response, his hand found its way to his chin as he processed everything happening, debating what to do next.

In your own mind, you debated the only option that seemed best for you. I people went to Bakugou’s aide and distracted Todoroki, then he could get away and go fight in the Blue Sector. Or maybe Kirishima and Ashido should just go fight the Blue team and leave Bakugou and Kaminari to finish off Todoroki.

Although it wasn’t very responsible to leave so few people monitoring the flags when your team has two and will be the obvious targets.

Everyone stayed silent, debating their own ideas in their head, most of which were difficult to pull off.

“So,” Ashido started, taking a seat on the ground and leaning her back against a nearby building, “What now?”

The group looked around at each other, wondering who was going to talk first. Personally, you knew you should go find them, but you were so tired and knew there was very little you could go against the people you were fighting. Just imagining Iida coming at you, unable to use your quirk to help your team, sent shivers down your spine. You stayed silent, praying someone else would speak up with another idea.

“I suppose we need to get in contact with Bakugou and Kaminari. We don’t know if they are going to come back here or go to the Blue side,” Sero spoke.

Guess not.

“That’s true,” Aoyama added, “but the best person to find them would be Y/L/N-kun and she is obviously tired.”

Thank God.

“I’ll take her,” Sero replied. “She can guide me and with my tape, I can probably get there in just a few minutes. Then, we can distract or maybe even beat Todoroki and get everyone back here.”

Kirishima stepped into the circle forming around you and Ashido. “With everyone here, we can wait and see who gets here first. For example, if Midoriya gets here, obviously Bakugou would want to stay and other people will go get the other flag.

“That may actually work,” Ashido added, grinning widely.

The team made quick work of getting everyone ready. Currently, you were waiting outside the tape barricade for Sero to apply the finishing touches to his defenses. Once done, waved goodbye and came up to you, smiling brightly.

“Okay,” He started. “So just tell me which way to go and I can use my quirk to fling us from building to building.”

You nodded and Sero tentatively grabbed onto your waist. You knew he needed to do that to help you travel and you weren’t at all thrown off when he did so. However, his body was comparatively much colder than Bakugou’s and the tape dispense in his elbow jammed at you back.

This would not be a comfortable ride.

Sero launched both of you into the sky, moving quickly. All that could be heard was the fast wind piercing your ears and the directions you have to the brunette.

Soon enough, the directions were unnecessary because the eruptions of Bakugou’s quirk were big enough to see. Sero decided it would be best for you to arrive by making a big entrance. You both swooped in just as Bakugou was preparing a move. Sero sped up and kicked Todoroki straight in the head before having you both land on the ground. You almost lost your balance, but his hand around your waist stayed and helped you keep yourself up. You looked up at him and he winked.

“What the fuck was that?!”

You looked up to see Bakugou, who was fuming in his eyes. His condition was similar to how you left him, just with a few more burn marks.

The blond stomped his way to you and Sero. “I was just about to hit him!”

“It sure didn’t look like it,” Sero laughed. “It looked like he was about to pummel you.”

“What the fuck do you know, tape-for-brains?” Bakugou yelled.

Sero just chuckled in response so Bakugou looked down at you instead.

Sometimes, it really was nice to hear people’s thoughts. For example, right now, thoughts of jealousy rushed through Bakugou’s head. He was slightly annoyed that Sero ruined his attack, but he was more so jealous that Sero got to touch you the same way he did.

The anger in his eyes was replaced with confusion as he looked at you. He almost looked like a puppy, or maybe a kitten, begging you to tell him that it meant nothing.

You looked down at the ground, wondering if Bakugou remembered that you could hear his thoughts. Now was not the time to address Bakugou’s subconscious, jealous feelings. On top of that, you were sure your face was redder than it had been

“Hey, guys!’ Kaminari smiled, cutting through the awkward air. “Come to save us?”

“I don’t need saving, Pikachu!” Bakugou yelled in response.

“Calm down, sheesh,” Kaminari stuck his hands up as if the cops were holding guns to him.

“Whatever, let’s just go finish Todoroki already,” Bakugou mumbled, turning away from the group to look at the heterochromatic boy in question.

He was worse off than Bakugou was, it was difficult for his body to hold a proper temperature and after a fight this long, it was really taking a toll on him.

I can’t believe this intense fucking game of capture the flag is considered a regular day of school here… you thought. Suddenly, Bakugou grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the enemy.

I’ll hit him and you make him sleep, was all you heard before the tired Todoroki enveloped your feet in ice.

“Fuck!”

You looked behind you to see Kaminari caught in the same trap. Sero, however, was able to use his tape to pull himself out.

Bakugou squeezed onto your hand even tighter and used his opposite hand to explode him and then yourself out of the ice.

Sero came in once again and managed to get a hit on Todoroki. Bakugou followed up with exploding into the competitor’s face while he was busy with Sero.

You, remembering what Bakugou had thought earlier, rushed up to Todoroki and grabbed his wrist while he prepared to burn Bakugou.

Todoroki’s flames stopped and he looked over at you with wide eyes. You were still trying to calm him down to make the switch appear, but Todoroki was fast to act and recover from your actions.

You weren’t able to hear his thoughts as you focused so heavily on his emotions. His emotions were slowly changing to become more calm. However, a burst of red shot through your vision as opposed to the relaxed and determined purples and greens that reflected in his mind.

Ice shot through Todoroki’s left side, which you happened to be holding onto, and you felt your hand freeze, the cold shooting throughout your body. Instinctually, you tried to pull your arm back, worried the ice might harm your skin. However, seeing as you were now frozen to him, you are unable to move your hand away.

Fuck! It’s so cold!

Goosebumps arose on your skin and shivers when down your spine. The ice continued to crawl up your skin. You knew Todoroki was trying to prevent you from making him fall asleep without hurting you very much.

Todoroki rapidly moved so he had better leverage over your body. He placed one knee on the ground and held his left arm over his shoulder. He was then able to lean forward and pull you over his body and slam your body onto the hard concrete.

You were still attached to Todoroki and although waves of pain shot throughout your back, you knew you had to keep working. You focused back in on Todoroki’s emotions and worked even faster to calm him down. The red and orange hues of battle and anger morphed into blues and purples. He was fighting against your actions but was unable to fight back anymore.

The light switch appeared, although far away from your reach. You pushed Todoroki farther into your relaxing trap, his breathing shallowed and his heartbeat slowed. Finally, you were in reach of your goals.

“Sleep,” You whispered, and his eyes closed.

Slowly, you sat up from your position on the ground. Your hand was still frozen, your head still pounded, and now you had back pains you were sure would last weeks. You looked up at the three boys around you, Kaminari and Sero stared at you with shock and worry. They were wondering if you were okay or if they should take you out of the game now.

On the other hand, once Bakugou noticed you were able to make Todoroki fall asleep, he stormed up to you and put his hand on the ice where your hand was grabbing Todoroki’s wrist. “This is going to hurt a bit, just stay still okay?”

You nodded in response and Bakugou used small explosions to heat up the ice. You felt the heat and explosions against your skin, but they didn’t hurt much and Bakugou was being safe enough to stop just before all the ice would have melted. He moved farther up your arm and used the same method to melt the ice that crawled up your skin.

Bakugou looked at you when most of the ice was finally melted away. He motioned his head to tell you that you could break away by yourself.

“I can’t, he’ll wake up,” You responded.

Bakugou looked at you, to your hand, and then to Todoroki’s sleeping body. “Hey, idiots!” Bakugou called over his other teammates who were still just watching the situation unfold. “Tie him up and then shock him to make him pass out.”

After recovering from the shock of being taken out of his trance, Sero quickly wrapped up Todoroki’s body, being careful not to get you tied into the tape. Once done, you broke your hand free of the icy grip and Kaminari electrocuted Todoroki much like he did with Tsu. Both boys then moved Todoroki into one of the buildings.

While they moved Todoroki, you awkwardly stood off to the side. With the battle no longer distracting you, your mind was free to roam and right now, all you could think about was the jealous thoughts that ran through Bakugou’s head when you and Sero first arrived. Not only that, but Bakugou had grabbed your hand earlier, giving you skin to skin contact once more. You wondered if he was always so warm because of his quirk, or if maybe his body was hot because he was just as nervous as you.

“So,” You looked up from the ground to see that Bakugou moved to be standing next to you, “What now?” He only spared a moment to look at you before noticing you were looking at him. Abruptly, he turned his focus back onto your two teammates.

“Um,” You bit your lip, taking a moment to push your previous thoughts out of your head in order to focus on the situation at hand. “We are going back to home base.”

“Why? Shouldn’t we go get the Blue flag?” Bakugou asked. He was much calmer now than he was when talking to Kaminari and Sero. You made a mental note to try and figure out why later.

“We wanted to head back to make sure we have appropriate reinforcements. Like, if you run off to the Blue sector and then Midoriya comes here, the plan is kinda ruined,” You responded.

Bakugou thought over your explanation for a second before agreeing with a hum. After a brief and awkward pause, Bakugou spoke again, “Do you know where everyone else is right now?”

“I can try checking,” You replied, “but I am a bit tired and don’t know how great my range will be.” You took in a deep breath, something that wasn’t necessary, but was a habit for you when using your quirk on bigger scales.

Just before you delved yourself into the world of thoughts, Bakugou stopped you. “Don’t waste your energy then, we will be fine without knowing.”

You nodded, too shocked to verbally reply. Bakugou did not at all seem like the type of person to care about the individual over the group outcome. Because of this, it especially shocked you. Speaking of which…

“Bakugou,” You started, “Are you okay? Is there anywhere you are really hurt?” You asked him, eyes darting around his body and examining the burns, bruises, and blood that littered his pale, golden skin.

“Don’t worry about me,” He mumbled, turning his body away from you and crossing his arms.

He was offended you asked him. Annoyed you didn’t think he was strong enough. Even though you once again could not feel his skin and experience his emotions at hand, it was obvious from his thoughts that he was upset.

It upset you slightly that he forced you to let him take care of you for the team, but refused to let you do the same. How someone’s thoughts could change so easily in only an hour was ridiculous.

As someone who could hear thoughts and experience others' emotions, it was more common for people to think that you would be best as a rescue hero or a healing hero. When younger, you were trained in first-aid and how to utilize your quirk to help those around you. The idea of helping Bakugou tempted you. However, you knew it best to leave him alone.

For both of you.

You swallowed down your worries for that moment, promising yourself that it was okay to deny your ever-growing crush on Bakugou.

Kaminari and Sero exited the building smiling as if their energy from defeating Todoroki revitalized them.

“Are you ready to head back?” Sero asked as he and Kaminari approached you and Bakugou.

You looked towards Bakugou, still able to tell he was mildly upset about your comment earlier. “Yeah,” His hoarse voice responded.

Kaminari then looked towards you, “Y/L/N-chan, who would you like to go with, Sero or Bakugou?”

Your brain immediately debated between the two boys. On one hand, Bakugou got jealous when I rode with Sero, but now he seems a little upset at me. Maybe he wouldn’t want to ride with me because of tha--

“She’s going with me,” Bakugou interrupted. Everyone looked at Bakugou.

Or not.

You bit your bottom lip and furrowed your eyebrows out of stress, noticing the jealous thoughts that once again ran through Bakugou’s head.

You weren’t an idiot. You knew what it means to be possessive over someone, but you met Bakugou only a few days ago and things didn’t even start off well. On top of that, Bakugou seemed almost oblivious to his possessiveness, making his intentions even more confusing.

Bakugou squinted his eyes at your reaction to his comment before looking back at the two other teammates. “You guys know the way back. Me and him,” Bakugou gestured towards Kaminari, “don’t. So, we have to split up.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Kaminari and Sero who made quick work of positioning themselves in the least romantic way they could. Currently, Kaminari and Sero were connected by a tape belt that kept them within 2 meters of each other. When Sero set off towards camp, Kaminari held onto the tape, basically dangling under Sero as he moved.

“Ready?” You heard Bakugou mumble, moving your attention elsewhere.

You looked up at Bakugou and found yourself biting your lip again, wondering what Bakugou’s thoughts meant. It was as easy as A + B = C because Bakugou sure didn’t realize what his thoughts meant. He was, however, great at hiding them to others.

“Yeah,” You looked down at your feet, his crimson eyes stared into yours and made the atmosphere fill with awkwardness.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Bakugou mumbled as his hand found its way around your waist, “Baka.” (usually playful way to call someone dumb).

You looked up at Bakugou once more as his hand touched the skin of your waist. His emotions rushed through you, but you were more focused on the smirk on Bakugou’s face and the glint in his eyes. Before you could respond, Bakugou launched both of you in the same direction Sero went.

#boku no hero academia #boku no hero headcanons #my hero academia #my hero academy #bakugou #bakugo #katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha #bnha bakugou

[fuckyeahscienceparty]

hey if ur taking requests for writing...., what abt angsty among us idea- reports a body and like.. engie attends and it turns out medic was killed? and then hes heartbroken and really sad and angry at spy for killing medic? obviously u dont have to do this but the among au had me thinking about a ton of angsty scenarios lol. have a good day!!

i'm always takin requests! it may take me a while to get there but i will try my damndest to get it done at some point!

i actually had part of this in my drafts when you originally sent this ask but it's been reason enough to finish it, i think. i hope you like it, even if it's a bit messy :>

-

Per Aspera Ad Astra

In which an imposter experiences the loss of someone he loved and wasn't supposed to.

-

As Dell heard the emergency meeting alarm blare over the intercom and red lights flashed overhead, he looked up from the mass of wires he'd agreed to rearrange for Medic, furrowing his brow.

Odd. Spy hadn't made it clear to him that he was going to attempt anything that day and he knew for a fact that he himself hadn't made any sabotages since last week.

Then again, he'd noticed that this crew in particular had no qualms against using the emergency meeting button for more trivial things. Someone probably just wanted to get everyone's attention to look at some weird space bug that hitchhiked from their last stop on Pollus a few weeks ago or something along those lines. Standard procedure at that point.

He packed up the wires he'd been holding back into their panel before making his way out of electrical and towards the cafeteria, readjusting his goggles over his eyes to make sure nobody would find him out.

When he'd arrived, he could practically physically feel the shift in attitude of the rest of the crew since that morning, mentally noting that Medic was currently the only one of them missing.

"Tex, there you are. You uh. Might want to sit down for this one, lad," Demo said gravely, all the other crewmates' mumbling amongst each other dying down instantly as Spy stood to the side of the table, having said nothing ever since he himeself had arrived.

"Uhm. Sure, ok. Shouldn't we wait for Doc first, though? If it's actually important he should probably be here," He said, a confused smile coming to his face. Demo physcially winced.

"See, that's the thing, it's. It's Doc, he's..." Demo trailed off, Sniper moving to put a hand on his shoulder.

"He's?..." Engie frowned, having to take a moment before he realized what he'd meant.

It took another moment for the dread to set in.

"No. No, that- that's impossible, I- I just saw him like 30 minutes ago. I agreed to do one of his tasks for him while he finished cleaning the medbay so we could finish up for the day," He stuttered, looking anxiously between all the other faces at the table. None of them could meet his gaze even through his goggles, Spy in particular insisting on staring out the large window that peered into the vastness of space around them instead.

...Spy.

Spy said he wouldn't touch him- said he'd let him find a way to deal with all of this effectively and without having to kill this particular crew. Especially Medic. He said- no, he promised he wouldn't.

Engie's anger soon started bubbling inside of him, tightly clenching his fists that he oh so desperately wanted to sucker punch a certain other imposter in the face with. But then came the second realization of what he'd done and he felt his arms go slack again.

Medic was dead.

"...Where is he?" He finally whispered out, somewhere between heartbroken and seething.

"Medbay. Demo, Sniper, and I called for the meeting as quick as we could and did not get the chance to move his. Corpse," Soldier said, standing up straight and visibly uneasy at the mentioning of Medic's dead body.

Engie slowly nodded.

"Ok. Did you fellas, uh. Did- did you contact Pollus yet?"

"Not yet. I was gonna after the meetin's over. 's gonna take us a while to get there tho, at least 2 weeks," Scout said.

"I see. Did you three uh. Did you see anything?" Engie asked Demo, Sniper, and Soldier, all of them shaking their heads.

"Pyro, Heavy, 'n Scout were on comms because they were finished with tasks already and all three of 'em say they didn't see anyone go into Medbay after you left."

"...what about you, Spy? Been awfully quiet the entire time. And you don't have an alibi," Scout squinted. Spy scoffed.

"I was also finished with tasks, I've been in my quarters for at least 2 hours. You can even roll back footage on the cameras."

Pyro pressed a button on their suit, the small speaker on their chest panel letting out a soft 'kshh'.

"...he does have a point. Cams don't lie."

"What if he used the vents, though?"

"You really think this pansy's gettin' in any vents?"

"...Aight, fair point."

"I do not think we have enough information to make decision," Heavy sighed, every looking to each other in a vague sense of agreement.

"Skip vote, then?"

"Yeah, I think that's for the best."

"Alright lads, be on alert, then. If you see anythin' suspicious, y' know where the button is," Demo sighed, patting the plastic cover that protected the emergency meeting button.

Everyone mumbled out affirmations before getting up to head out, Pyro staying behind to raise their hand.

"Ay, what is it, Py?"

Kshh. "...who's taking care of uh. Y'know. The body."

Engie squeezed his eyes shut briefly.

"I'll do it."

"Tex, no, we couldn't ask you t-"

"Demo, it's fine. I'm not a child, you don't need to baby me. I can deal with it."

"If you're so sure..."

"It's fine. Really. You go make sure everyone else is doin' ok, lord knows they'd need it," Engie smiled softly, giving Demo a pat on the arm.

Demo's eyes still showed worry but he nodded, reciprocating the gesture before hurrying into the direction of nav where everyone else went.

Spy turned to leave but Engie stopped him, shifting his goggles back to his forehead.

"...Why did you do it?" He asked softly. He could've sworn that he saw the slightest break of stoicism on Spy's face but perhaps it was just the awful fluorescent lighting of the cafeteria playing tricks on him.

"You were taking too long. It was getting risky for us to be here. I thought it better to end it sooner rather than later," He said, any trace of emotion leaving as quickly as it came as he turned his head. Engie had no response.

"Remember what they did to us. To you. Just because one treated you kindly does not mean others will."

Silence.

"...Don't sabotage anything tonight. They'll get suspicious. Be prepared to leave this ship in a week's time, without the Medic they'll fall apart. Do I make myself clear?"

Still nothing. Spy frowned.

"I said, do I make myself clear, Dell?" He asked again, not even bothering to mask the threatening tone in his voice this time.

Engie squeezed his eyes shut again.

"...Yes. Yes, you do."

"Very well. I will see you in the morning," He said, moving so that Engie's hand no longer rested on his shoulder and starting to make his way to hallway that led to crew's personal quarters.

Spy paused to look back, a feeling that could almost be described as pity overcoming him. He sighed.

"...Get over it. You only knew him for less than 8 months, anyways," He said softly before leaving Engie alone, footsteps echoing against the metal floors of the ship.

When he felt he was ready, Engie made his way to the Medbay with full expectations of what he would find there.

He just. Didn't expect it to hurt so much.

Medic's body lay on the floor in between the scanner and the large computer it was attached to, his normally bright cyan suit soaked in red and a sizable gash made into his back. There was a broken test tube that had fallen out of his hand a little ways away and one of the lensed of his glasses had been cracked, most likely from the impact of falling onto the floor.

Engie took in a deep breath before carefully sitting him up against the nearest wall, preparing himself to find something to clean up the blood that hadn't managed to be absorbed into his space suit.

He wasn't used to Medic being so.. quiet. Lifeless, if you would. He couldn't remember a single time he'd felt a pain in his chest as intense as this.

It was then that his anger suddenly came back, barely being able to contain himself before he turned around and ended up making a decently large crack in the monitor.

He tried to control the emotions that came flooding after, tried to keep himself from feeling this way over this one human when he'd aided the destruction of countless others, but when he felt himself shaking, he fell to his knees, a sob escaping him.

He shouldn't have gotten attached. He shouldn't have, it wasn't like him- like an imposter to get attached, and yet here he was, crying on the Medbay floor as blood soaked into his already red suit and glass shards clinked against the desk as they fell off piece by piece.

Serves him right for believing in humans, he guesses. Serves him right for having the audacity to care.

...what a stupid decision, that was.

#tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer #tf2 science party #medic x engineer #tf2 spy #and like everyone else but no tags for them to keep things clean #am #fic #asks #mmmilkbee #abungus #c's writing #hokay sleepy times

[wri0thesley]

A request: loving, NSFW praise-heavy mutual masturbation between Bruno and a fem s/o. I love your work so so much I'd be amazed to see what you can do with this ♡♡♡

bruno x fem reader - together

(afab reader, fem pronouns, 2.1k)

"Cara," Bruno's voice is soft, gentle, perfect - his eyes are just as sweet when he looks at you. "You don't need to be shy. You know I adore every gorgeous inch of you."

You can't help but shift on the bed, flush rising to your cheeks. Bruno is not shy about dropping compliments; murmuring about how beautiful you look in a morning, mapping the curves of your figure with warm hands, whispering how much he loves you before he ducks out of the door for work and leaves you with warmth in your face and your heart beating in double quick time.

But still, sometimes, you can't help but be self-conscious. You can't help but wonder if perhaps he's exaggerating when he mentions how much he wants to kiss you, when he tells you that he's the luckiest man in the universe. You can't help, sometimes, looking down at yourself and wondering what a man as gorgeous as Bruno Buccellati can see in you.

"I'm just worried," you say, voice cracking unsurely. "I mean . . . you've seen me plenty of times. But . . . I don't know." You shrug, helplessly. "Something about you watching me do that is a little . . . scary, I guess? What if you decide this time actually you don't like me--"

He grabs your hand, pulling it to his mouth, dropping a kiss with feather soft lips onto your palm. When he speaks, his voice is sure and strong.

"Amore," he says, his words slow but imbued with feeling. "I fantasise about watching you do this constantly. And . . ." This time, it's his turn for his cheeks to flush dusky. "If you wouldn't mind - if you'd like - I could show you exactly what you were doing to me whilst you did it."

It takes a moment for you to realise what he means, but when you do realise you feel a familiar low ache of desire begin to make itself known low down in your stomach. The thought of Bruno's length, stiffly pressing against the front of expensive suit trousers - the thought of hitching breath and swollen lips and how beautiful you know his thick, heavy shaft will look in his careful fingers--

It's this offer - for him to do what he's asking you to do at the same time - that pushes you over the edge into accepting, and makes you feel suddenly beautiful under his gaze again. If Bruno was so certain that watching you would have such a strong effect on him, than surely you had no need to be anxious that actually he was being untruthful when he assured you of how gorgeous you were.

"Alright," you whisper, your throat dry. Fingers gently reach for your shirt, curling under the hem, tossing the useless fabric to one side so you're sitting on the bed across from your boyfriend with nothing clothing your top half but flimsy satin cups. "If you'll let me see you, too--"

His laugh is dark, but a little breathless, as dark blue eyes sweep across your chest with more than muted enthusiasm.  

"Take yours off?" You ask him, shyly, and he smiles as fingers come to undo his own suit jacket, shrugged off surprisingly broad and muscled shoulders. His eyes do not leave yours for a moment. "A-and the lace?"

"You don't like it?" He asks, smiling crookedly, but he obeys - delicate lacework is pulled from his perfect skin (marred by only a few scars, which you know off by heart having traced them a hundred times with lips and fingertips.

"You know I love it," you say to him. "You know I love everything about you."

He's gentle when he replies to you;

"And you know I feel the same way about you, cara. Will you take that off too?"

Your fingers are trembling as you un-clip the bra, the straps falling from your shoulders for the lingerie piece to pool in your lap. You feel your nipples harden in the cool air - and Bruno gasps, his eyes hungry, his entire body leaning forward to look at you.

"Y-you can touch me, you know." You whisper, but Bruno simply smiles at you.

"I want to see you touch yourself instead," he murmurs. "I don't deserve to touch anything so beautiful."

Your face flushes warm.

"D-don't be so silly," you say, and he chuckles. One of his hands slowly reaches out, cupping the curve of your breast, a warm thumb swiping across where your nipple is hard in the air. Even this tiny touch sends spirals of heat all through you that ricochet straight to the dampness between your thighs, the space warm and empty and needy to be touched. You wish Bruno would be rough with you, for a moment - wish he'd squeeze your breasts a little harder, pinch at your nipples, drag his gorgeous tongue across them until your back was arching and you were begging him to touch you somewhere else--

"I'm not being silly," he murmurs. "I want to watch you touch yourself and see exactly how you make yourself feel good so that I can do the same things. I want nothing more than to have your gorgeous body fall apart in front of me."

"You're already good at that," you say, hoarse-voiced, embarrassed to look at him. You've never had any complaints about just how well Bruno plays your body, like a piano that he's had finely tuned so he can make the most beautiful music from. "Y-you don't need to watch me do it--"

"I want to," he breathes, his eyes perfectly wide and serious. "Amore, the thought of watching you fall apart in front of me and listening to those beautiful noises you make--" The hand on your breast trails down, stroking your waist, cupping your hip. "Please take these off for me too."

You nod, lifting your hips, more fabric - beginning to feel like more of a hindrance than anything else anyway - is gently tossed aside, as you expose your body to Bruno's hungry, adoring gaze. You look at him for a moment until he follows suit, pulling down his trousers, leaving his underwear on--

And only then, when you can see his cock is straining against his expensive underwear (you can see the damp patch where the slick head of his cock is resting on the fabric), do you shyly part your thighs and reveal yourself to Bruno entirely. His eyes drink you in hungrily, and if it weren't for how his own body seemed to be aching with need, you'd be embarrassed about the slickness you can feel on your inner thighs and the way he was studying you like he'd never seen something so beautiful in his life.

"You're perfect," he breathes. "If . . . Oh, I want to taste you, amore. I want to use my tongue on you until you're a useless, shivering mess tugging at my hair and my entire mouth tastes like you--"

"Nothing's stopping you," you say, breathlessly, and Bruno chuckles. His thumbs hook into his underwear, slowly pulling it down, teasing you as his thick cock is revealed inch by tantalising inch.

"Nothing's stopping me indeed," he says, lowly. "Except how much I want to see you play with yourself. I can always taste you afterwards--" He pauses, and a wicked smirk steals across his face. "I'll bet you taste even sweeter after you've come once. I'll bet, too, your thighs would shake in the cutest way and your voice, all shaking and needy-- mm, amore, you have no idea what you do to me."

"I . . . I think I have a little bit of an idea," you whisper, softly, eyeing Bruno's thick, hard length - ramrod straight and stiff, precome beading along the head of his cock in a way that makes you very much want to taste him too.

He laughs, softly.

"I'll touch mine if you touch yours," he says, raising one eyebrow. "And mine really is aching out to be touched--"

"Mine too," you breathe, spreading your thighs a little wider to display yourself even more lasciviously for Bruno's delectation. One hand gently comes up to slide across your thigh, your eyelids fluttering closed for a moment as you imagine Bruno's gentle fingertips on your bare skin--

But then, Bruno's raising a hand too, his grip around the base of his cock firm, and your eyes remain firmly open so you can watch the way he handles himself better. You don't want to miss a moment of the way his own fingertips stroke the sensitive underside of his cock, the way his thumb slides across the head, the noise of satisfaction that comes from his parted lips at finally being able to touch himself.

You tease the outer lips of your sex, not once moving your eyes from Bruno's own hand. Little electric shocks of desire run all through you, as your mind runs riot at the thought of Bruno's cock slowly entering you, stretching you out - or maybe he'd slide inside you in one long, slow movement, eased by just how much you were dripping. One finger circles your entrance delicately, and as you slide it in to the first knuckle you can't help but think about how much better he'd feel inside you.

You don't realise you're biting your lip and your breathing is coming in soft, unsteady pants until Bruno murmurs (his own voice sounding strained);

"The noises you make--"

"I can try and be quiet," you say, fluttering your eyelashes at the same time as you pull your finger out of your slick channel to adjust and slide two in beside one another (a far more satisfying stretch of your velvety inner walls) - Bruno huff-groans, and growls;

"Don't you dare, bella. I want to hear every noise that falls out of your pretty little mouth."

"If you carry on talking to me like that, then," you say, aware of the way your body has reacted to the unusual amount of grit and force in Bruno's tone. You know you like being bossed around a little bit by him - but now, in this scenario, you realise that perhaps you like being bossed around a lot.

"I want to see you play with your clit," Bruno groans, his hand moving a little faster on his shaft. The slick sounds of his hand sliding up and down his stiff length make your stomach tie itself in pleasurable knots, and you hasten to fulfil his request, your other hand sliding down your body (squeezing your breast on the way down in a way you wished Bruno were doing) to toy with the bundle of swollen nerves. He makes a pleased, satisfied hum. “Mm, that’s exactly it. You’re so beautiful, princesa--” 

Your thighs tremble at the way you're holding yourself and the way he’s talking to you, but you can't bring yourself to close your eyes or rest your head even for a minute when Bruno is looking like that in front of you. 

Oh, and Bruno is certainly looking like that. His face is flushed, his eyes a dark cast, his stiff leaking cock in his firm grip, his hair mussed and tousled in front of his face as his own eyes don't for a moment leave his watchful enjoyment of your body.

"Harder, amore," he murmurs, a catch in his throat, and you wonder if he's close. You redouble your efforts; the fingers sliding in and out of you rougher and faster and harder, the way your other fingers are stroking and toying with your clit more frantic. Hot need prickles all over your body. “Let me see that lovely shaking--”

"You're gorgeous," he says, his voice pitching a little. "Oh, amore, I'm not going to be able to keep my hands off you after this, the way you look right now. Fuck, you're perfect--"

He can't hold on. His fist jerks roughly once, twice, three more times, his breath coming out short - and then, you see his cock twitch in his grasp and pearly strings of his come are suddenly coating his fist, painting his flat toned stomach where he's bent over a little. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his eyes not moving from you as - as if buoyed along by seeing Bruno's own peak - your own body reaches a hot crescendo and waves of white hot pleasure lap over you, a gush of wetness against your fingers, your body pulsing around the woefully inadequate (compared to Bruno's cock, at least) stretch inside of you.

You both sit there for a moment, your releases cooling and drying, before Bruno gives you a lazy, slow smile.

"I meant it, you know," he murmurs, moving his body slowly but unheeding of the come on his body (you find, with a shock of arousal, you don't mind that at all). "When I said I wanted to taste you after you've come--"

You bite your lip, offering him a smile.

"W-well," you whisper, as he comes closer, a hand resting on your calf. "I'm . . . I'm not stopping you cleaning me up--"

Bruno grins.

#afab reader #writing #fem pronouns #bruno buccellati #bruno x reader #not sfw #Anonymous