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thechaoticcurator · 4 months

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Pascal, The Yandere Priest

✧Hi! So, this is my first story/fanfic on Tumblr so go easy on me! Hopefully, I’ll post more of my yan stories I’ve been brewing and small lil drabbles I’ve been working on. I hope you enjoy✧ :3

Tw: Religion, Yandere shenanigans, codependency, attempted assault of a child (I in no way support that nasty ass shit), poisoning, murder

Pascal, since childhood was an individual of unshakable faith. Blind faith others would say. Being left on a porch step, living in an orphanage, having to eat rations, even being bullied by fellow orphans didn't shake them.

After all, they knew they stood out with a short, slim body, round face with blotchy, rosy skin, grey eyes a little too big for their face and thin, unwashed black hair.

None of this affected them, however. Pascal, in addition to having an unshakable faith had an unusual patience and calmness about them. Maybe because they weren't alone.

They had Mira! It seemed like she could take on the world as She was strong, She was bold, She was... everything to Pascal. Even with Her choppy, curly caramel hair, bulkier body, rough warm brown skin and furrowed but kind light brown eyes, the adored Her nonetheless.

Mira and Pascal went on plenty of adventures beyond the stone walls of the orphanage in their secret hiding place beneath the orphanage's pear tree. One day, they would be pirates, sailing across the sea, searching for treasure and catching scurvy. Another day, they were explorers, going through the harsh jungles, surviving on the fruits and vegetables around them and meeting playful animals. Pascal lived for these adventures and wished they would never end...

Until it did, unfortunately, on that fateful night. It was a cold night with hard rain beating on the orphanage windows. For some reason, Pascal couldn't sleep. They needed to see Mira. She was their safe space. They felt like they needed Her...? They tip-toed to the girl's quarters in the orphanage, propped open the door slightly with a stone and peeked in the room to search for her bedroll. They couldn't believe what they saw that night.

Disgusting grunting from an older man, a member of the orphanage staff and the nearby church and Mira being held down, tears threatening to fall from Her eyes with a hand being held over Her lips.

"Keep it down. You wouldn't want to wake the others and let them see you like this, would you?" Came a hushed voice.

To say Pascal blacked out would be an understatement. They had never lost their composure like that before. Their tiny hands grasping for the stone propping the door came down and struck the man's head an unknown amount of times. They remember it all; the man's pained grunts, Mira's surprised gasp, the sound of stone hitting bone and breaking skin.

Then came feeling a soft hand, ceasing their attack.

She was covered in splatters of blood, Her hair curled around Her sweaty face and Her normally stubborn eyes were red and puffy with streaks of freshly fallen tears.

She cradled Pascal's face gently and spoke in a soft tone, "It's okay. It's over, it's over. Look at me. It's over..."

They dropped the rock and She wrapped her arms around them softly and just...held them there.

The last thing they remember is gazing up at Her before coming to a realization...they loved Her. This was their bond, bound together by this moment with the blood of the man staining both of them. They fell into a dreamless slumber that night, still in Mira's embrace.

The next morning they awoke...in their bed? Pascal was confused. Was the night before a bad dream? Did they imagine that significant event? They ran into the girls room without a second thought and were surprised to see girls and nuns huddled around Mira's bedroll.

One of the girls briefly turned and pointed at Pascal while talking to one of the nuns. Were they in trouble? Was their crime figured out? They did forget to clean up the body? Was Mira in trouble too?

They were so wrapped in their thoughts that they didn't notice the nun crouch in front of them.

"Pascal? Can I have a word with you privately?"

Pascal looked up abruptly and the nun didn't look upset or horrified but...worried?

They nodded with faux meekness and followed the nun.

The whole walk around the orphanage, they wondered if the nun knew something. Also... where was Mira? They hoped She was ok. Surely She would've looked for Pascal after yesterday's...events?

The nun stopped walking when they stepped in the orphanage yard, in front of a familiar pear tree and once again kneeled in front of Pascal and put a hand on their shoulder.

"Mira was nowhere to be found in the orphanage. Today her roll was empty and all her belongings appear to be gone. We believe she might've run away," she started softly.

Pascal's heart dropped. Was it their fault She left? Was She afraid of being indicted for their crime? Didn't She know Pascal would've taken the fall for everything? For Her?

"Pascal? Be honest with me, alright? Do you have any idea where she might've gone? A nearby town? A...A hiding place, perhaps?"

Pascal blankly stared at the nun and didn't move an inch. They felt empty. This was all their fault. But what else could they have done? Let Her get assaulted by that disgusting man? They would rather die.

They would hit him over and over and over and over and over and ov-

"Pascal, I understand you're upset right now and so am I! But Mira could be in trouble right now. So we need your help right now to find Her. Do you have any ideas as to where She could've gone?"

Upset? Upset isn't the correct word for how Pascal felt. They don't think the word for how they felt was created yet. They continued to just stare at the nun. She sighed and led Pascal back to their bed and stalked off quickly, probably to get information about Mira’s whereabouts.

The next couple of weeks, Pascal was despondent. Mira was everything to Pascal. They just found out they were love for god's sake! They didn't eat, bathe and barely could sleep. Until one day, they felt something tripped over something that had rolled from under their bed.

They picked up the mysterious item and their eyes widened. It was a rolled up piece of paper with familiar handwriting, written with urgency. To Pascal, it read.

They hastily rolled it open and read diligently, ignoring the nauseating metallic smell radiating from the paper.

First of all, I just want to say I'm sorry for leaving you this way. You must be so confused and upset. I just...couldn't stay here anymore. Not after that. It isn't your fault, though. I've always felt trapped here...but you were my light. I thought about taking you with me but I don't want you to possibly get hurt because of me. I don't know where I'm going to be honest. Just away from here. Mark my words though: I will be back for you. I'm so sorry, Pascal. I love you so so much.

Mira

PS: you don't have to worry about the old creep. I took care of him. No one will ever find him. The tree makes sure of that.

At the end of reading it, Pascal realized they were crying. They moved quickly to wipe away their tears and rolled up the letter and put it under their bed again.

She loved them! She said She’ll be back, right? But, how long will that take? Days? Months? Years? Decades? They shook their head and took a deep breath.

She said She would be back. They would just have to believe in Her.

This was the motivation to keep Pascal going. They gradually began to improve. They ate again, began to make 'friends' with other orphans and excelled in school. All the while waiting patiently and quietly for Mira's return.

Being an orphan made it very easy to join the church early where a priest, Father Juan, took Pascal under his wing as a protégé, maybe put of pity or they saw promise in Pascal. Before this, however, they visited the orphanage pear tree one last time, knowing the nostalgia and secrets hidden within it.

They wondered if they ascended to priesthood, would Mira hear and come back to them quicker…?

Pascal learned to recite proverbs like the back of their hand. They got the hang of being part of the clergy rather quickly and soon understood the inner workings of the church and most importantly, the art of deception from Father Juan as the church was full of hypocrisy from the so-called practitioners and especially his mentor.

Father Juan was the biggest hypocrite, extorting the people of the church out of their hard-earned coin under the guise of serving their God and seducing widows and wives who he made false promises to when he whisked them away to his bedchambers at night.

This came back to bite him in the ass, however.

One day, the priest just dropped dead. Poisoning, they said. That was easy and surprisingly fast. Pascal wondered if it was one of the people the priest had extorted or was it a vengeful widow or a wife trying to hide her adultery?

But for now, they had to feign immense hurt and pain. It was easy to do: they just thought of the day Mira left and channeled those emotions and tugged at the heartstrings of the members of the church.

They entered priesthood at the young age of 24. Many were surprised but a majority believed that's what their beloved fallen priest would have wanted and Pascal acted surprised, but of course they humbly accepted.

Pascal found it easy to be a priest, the love and faith they had in Mira went reciting scripture and moving the believers around them. Every word of praise they made towards 'God' were secretly declarations of love and praise for Her.

To keep from faltering on their mission, they read Mira's note every night. Her declaration of love and promise to return kept Pascal steadfast and sane in their unshakable faith.

Then it happened.

They remember the date like it was yesterday. May 11th, as they were doing confessions, just listening to the daily woes and sins of their followers, the church doors swung open.

They politely excused themselves from the confessional with the faux smile they learned to replicate from Father Juan so many times and went to calmly confront the intruders about intruding during this time.

But they stopped in their tracks.

A sharp gasp could be heard echoing off the church walls.

Familiar light brown eyes with a furrow to them, short, curly choppy caramel hair, warm brown skin now covered in numerous scars...

Pascal fell to their knees as though they were praying.

She took several hesitant steps towards them and then those steps became a jog which became a sprint. Upon contact, She cradled their face and they looked up at her again after 13 years.

She looked ethereal under the soft glow of the surrounding candles. It was like She was their God.

Her hands felt more callous, but they didn't mind.

"Mira..." They breathed out softly.

"Mira... Mira...I knew- I knew you would come back."

She gave a small breathless laugh that sounded heavenly to their ears.

"You were always so stubborn, Pascal." Her voice sounded rougher, they thought to themselves.

They abruptly stood up, She was still just a bit taller than them, and hesitantly wrapped their arms around Her and laid their head in Her bosom.

But She just chuckled and held them back.

"You got bigger! You look like you could put up a good fight against me." She ran her hands through their hair affectionately which made Pascal sigh warmly.

"And you grew your hair out, too? I always thought you looked like a girl. You were always prettier than me. Now you really do fit the part!"

Pascal didn't really even register what She was saying as they were listening to Her heartbeat. Even though She seemed calm and collected, Her heart was beating a mile a minute.

They just listened, revelling in Her body heat, Her scent, Her being.

She was here, in the flesh. They felt if they let go of Her, She would disappear. They held Her a little tighter.

This was a result of their unshakable faith.

Their unshakeable faith in Her and they made a silent vow to never let Her go again.

#yandere oc #yandere smut #yancore #yandere male #male yandere #male yandere oc #male yandere x reader #nonbinary #priest kink #Yandere #yandere concept #PascalthePriest

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skoati · 9 months

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My friends told me I need to start posting my fic ideas to Tumblr because I simply do not have enough time to write them all myself so here it goes(tho I may actually write out a proper fic if I get enough people telling me I should).

Warning for suggestive themes

Vampire AU Mint Milkshake(nyo america x england)

First scenario is that Amelia is a college student looking for a sugar daddy. She runs into Arthur who is decked out like someone stuck in Victorian Era England and she's like score!

She just thinks he's an eccentric old money type millionaire and is. Completely oblivious to the fact that he's a vampire. Like she can be smacked in the face with it but she refuses to notice. At some point he probably gets frustrated and TRIES to get her to notice but nada.

She gets disappointed when he gives her old Victorian antiques and valuables instead of the latest iPhone(womp womp) but at this point she's intrigued enough by him not to leave so easily

Arthur would put her on a "healthy" diet so he doesn't have to eat her fast food infested blood. He even tries to cook for her but since he is a vampire that doesn't eat human food anymore and probably hasn't cooked in 200 years, it turns out terrible. (She eats it anyway)

She keeps waking up all woozy and confused in random places like a Denny's parking lot after being at his place with no recollection of what happened right before. Amelia sees nothing wrong with this tho she just keeps coming back like heyyy ^u^

Arthur's the one tryna practically get rid of her but also gets attached. Maybe one week she doesn't show up for whatever reason so Arthur comes to her house like what's going on and she invites him in. She wakes up tucked in with a bruise on her neck or wrist or wherever and only realizes later that 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴. But Amelia being Amelia is not that alarmed by this.

I think the comedic potential is extraordinary. He's like why do you have so many bug traps hanging all over your house and she's like:

"Oh I think there's like, mosquitos in my room or something. I haven't seen them but I keep waking up with these weird bites on my neck! They're like super deep too. The mosquitos must be huge!" , unintentionally giving Arthur a complex about his teeth. He's muttering to himself like "my teeth are small but not 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 small"

Not sure how the situation gets resolved. I imagine she only actually sees that he's a vampire right before their first sexytimes cuz I headcanon vampires can't get a boner without fresh blood. And shes finally like ohhhh. But anywayyyy

Scenario 2: Amelia is the vampire.

Amelia and Arthur went to highschool together in the 2000's, but she disappeared senior year and everyone thought she got kidnapped. She was never found and it's still an unsolved case. It was a big deal because she was the cheer captain and one of the most popular girls in school but over the years it mostly got forgotten.

Fast forward to Arthur in his 30's waiting at a bus stop or smth being a grumpy adult coming home from work or whatever and he looks to his left and does a double take because he sees 𝘩𝘦𝘳. And she hasn't aged a day.

Amelia's like do I know u? And he's like I know 𝘺𝘰𝘶 and things go from there. He takes her home and is kind of freaking out internally. They never really talked much in highschool cuz he was a nerd(maybe he worked for the school newspaper) and just in separate cliques in general but he had a huge crush on her.

Anyways one thing leads to another and he lives out his highschool fantasies of fugging her and lets her live at his house and feed on him. I like this idea for the Schrodinger's age gap.

That's it for now. Lemme know what u guys think ^_^

#USUK #aph england #hws england #nyo america #textpost #mint milkshake #fem america #vampiretalia #vampire au #hetalia #nyo america x england #long post

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nevereverlandboys · 1 year

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White Crow Part 1

A/N: This is part one of my Felix redemption arc I am starting! Sorry for taking so long to post it on Tumblr too

What if Regina took Felix's heart instead of Pan?

Summary:

Felix, Peter Pan's right hand man was given a second chance to live in an orphanage. With a strange bond to Y/N he tries to reconnect to the world and find a purpose again.No matter the effort, people will think of him as a villain. He has a hard time breaking out of his cycle, hoping to become someone good that deserves a happy ending.

Felix took a sharp breath. He felt a stinging pain from inside of his chest, overwhelming him in waves as if his heart was being pressed together too tightly by the weight of his own flesh. Only that there was no such thing like a heart beating inside Felix's chest anymore.

"Now it belongs to me. You see, when you take a heart, it becomes enchanted. Stronger than a normal heart. You're not hurting the beast. You're controlling it." Regina had said when she took it from him. Felix was smart enough to tell she had copied the exact phrasing from the dark one. She had been a student of his, a good one so he was aware of, for that he never underestimated the dark queen. Besides, he never held a personal grudge towards her. After all, it was Peter who truly betrayed him, and if it was not for Y/N's idea to let the evil queen take his heart first, he would have probably died that night. Something inside him had already told him that Peter wanted to kill him, so Y/N only proved a point with that, but also made him lose the only friend he ever had. The empty feeling afterwards was enough reason to want his heart back. Felix knew that something inside him was missing, now it was even clearer to him. With it, he would have this amazing warm feeling of being free, but with an empty chest to walk around, there was not even a little spark glowing up. It would give him hope. Felix brought his hand up to his chest, just to check one more time for a sound of a beating. Nothing. He just felt like an empty shell. He felt no difference after tricking Pan, and maybe it was exactly that disturbing him the most. He puzzled about an eventual deeper meaning to it, assuming that he was that cold to begin with.

I killed my only friend.

"Come back!" He felt that stinging pain once more, and just like a soldier in trance he strutted all the way back through the cold forest, leaving the spring behind. He tried not to look down onto his hands, knowing that he should not expect to see anything else but red. With Peter raging about the missing heart Felix could barely fight against his magic, so he had to grab for that edgy stone. He was just glad that he was not in Henry's body anymore.

Readers P.O.V.:

The second Felix returned, Y/N's eyes widened. His face was sprinkled in blood, and his hands were fully covered with it. He had this empty look in his eyes when they met Y/N's. They instinctively searched for the most familiar face, before his eyes darted to the evil queen.

"I am done with Pan." Felix said with a deadpan face. "Now return my heart, witch."

Regina's face twitched at his tone, " And why would I do that?"

Felix pressed his teeth together, his jaws visibly tightening. For a second he just glared at her through squinted eyes, no words crossing his lips. Y/N looked over to Regina, holding his heart with a satisfied grin. It was just then that Y/N finally realized that he did not respond because he was not able to.

"Give it back to him." She said pleadingly. "Please."

Regina huffed and let her arm sink before she turned to the girl, "Are you for real? After everything you want to let him go without punishment?"

"Didn’t he suffer enough? Pan used him and tried to kill him. He has no reason to harm us!"

"Mom look, it's all red!" Henry pointed out, sharing the entreat. "He is not a villain."

Villains and heroes- good and evil. This had to mean something. At least it did to Y/N and Henry.

"If you want it to be returned so badly, do it yourself." Regina mocked with a teasing undertone. Her eyes darkened with each step towards Y/N. She grabbed for her hand and shoved Felix' heart inside it. The girl widened her eyes and darted her eyes down to her hand, then back to Regina, shaking her head in disbelief.

"All you have to do is push it inside his chest."

Y/N locked eyes with the second in command who gave her the same startled expression. His heart was pulsating hot against Y/N's fingertips, reminding her with every pump that she had the ultimate power over him. She could make him do whatever she wanted, but with each second holding it, she was overwhelmed by strong emotions coming from it and flooding her mind.

She approached the boy in a trance like state, not once breaking eye contact. Felix looked at her in anticipation once she came to halt in front of him.

"Please." Felix whispered impatiently, slightly leaning forwards. "Give me back my heart and I promise-"

He stopped his sentence with a painful growl when Y/N interrupted him by pushing his heart back inside his chest. The pain came in waves, stinging him behind his eyes down to his toes, worse than having it ripped out in the first place. Felix felt his knees weaken, but he was not ready to show weakness, so he pressed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth while he fought against his own body.

A few seconds later the pain disappeared completely, instead, there was this slow and steady pumping of his heartbeat. Felix reached for his chest and opened his eyes. A short glimpse of Y/N was enough to fasten the rhythm, overwhelming him like waves. Felix did expect strong emotions when he got his heart back, but never had he pictured anything warm like this.

"Let's go back." She said and rubbed her arms. Felix looked up into the sky. It was snowing. Back in Regina's house, Felix sat motionless on the staircase, letting Y/N clean the blood off of his hands.

"Why are you doing this? I can do this myself. " He suddenly said and glanced over to her. The girl stopped and looked back, feeling somewhat caught. She had questioned herself all the time what was running through his head, and if he felt forced to end it like this. If Felix wanted to talk about it, he probably would do it on his own, there was no need to bother him further. Giving him some space now would be smart

Y/N rose and just as she started to walk off, she felt him grab her wrist.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I'd like some help." He said timidly, letting go of his gentle grip. Y/N gave him a faint of a smile, sitting back down beside him and grabbed for the wet towel once more.

"Thank you." Felix smiled back, showing her a rare sight. He looked so innocent when he showed her his dimples.

"I think your idea of letting the evil queen take my heart worked. It turned out Peter did want to use it and kill me. You saved my life."

"I am just glad Henry got his body back before you… you-"

"Smashed his head? With a rock? If you want to ask me how I did it, don't fret."

Y/N swallowed hard. She painted herself a picture of the act, and could not help but feel sorry for Peter. With scarce resources of magic, Peter had no chance against this giant of a boy.

"How do you feel?" She then asked and placed his hand on his. Such an innocent move of hers, but it made Felix feel the heat rise in his face. Her touch was warm and gentle, he did not mind it at all, the opposite, Felix liked it. He looked at her and she found herself drawn into his gaze, unable to look away. She did not see a monster in him like the others. When the boy suddenly smiled at her, Y/N could not help but smile back.

"So where else should he go?" They suddenly overheard the adults obviously talk about Felix in the other room, caughting their attention, so they both exchanged a look filled with curiosity, before they decided to investigate. Stepping inside, everyone in the room went silent, darting their eyes into the direction of the intruders. The adults looked at them not for long before returning completely unbothered back to their discussion.

"We can't let him go to Neverland or else he will start plotting something." Regina grumbled with crossed arms in front of her chest. She clearly talked about Felix. David and Hook were on her side, nodding in agreement.

"Aye." The captain said with a glare towards the boy, "That shall be unwise. Who knows what he could be up to there."

"We could let him live with us in storybrooke." Snow chimed in and stepped forwards.

"Sure.'' We just play happy family." Hook said sarcastically and put on a fake smile. The second in command moved his eyes into the pirate's direction without turning his head, the annoyance written all over his face. "There is already no space for all of us."

"We can't keep them here, that's true." Emma agreed with Hook on this, pressing her brows together in a serious manner.

"What else do you have in mind?" Y/N chimed in, after all it was also her they needed to find shelter for. She looked up to Felix, waiting for him to speak up as well. He said no words but seemed to be intrigued by the conversation. In the end they had no choice but to comply after everything they did.

"I suggested the orphanage, where the rest of the lost boys were put up." Regina answered. That was the second Felix face started twitching, obviously not being fond of the idea. Still, no word crossed his lips. Y/N on the other hand tried to stay optimistic, after all, how bad could it be?

"We can't!" Emma's voice shrill through the room. "We protected them to be save from Felix!"

"You act as if he is vile and untamed!" Y/N glared at her. Felix felt his heart warming up when she defended him, well aware that she had witnessed him back on Neverland. He had treated the lost boys cruelly and barely showed mercy. No matter how much he told himself that it was Pan, it would always remain to be a lie.

"I don't trust a teenager that almost killed my son-"

"He helped you protect Henry!" Y/N interrupted. "If you put him in an orphanage you might as well put me in there!"

"So be it." Hook said with a shrug. He could not stand anyone from Neverland, not even Y/N. The pirate was convinced that not Pan himself was the source of evil, but rather the island itself. Felix had once mentioned that Hook liked to name them "the offspring of madness". The further away he was from them the better. Y/N waited for the others to say a word, but it seemed like the argument was over with that. An orphanage it would be. The girl looked over to Felix, but he was already staring at her. His face said nothing, Y/N could not read it like that. How much she wished she could.

Felix's P.O.V.:

With this clattering swaying of the car, Felix feared that this short drive would be the end of him. Y/N next to him did not look less terrified, shortly exchanging a look with him before she would look away again. His eyes darted down to her hands on the seat, and he longed to touch her hands once more, hold her and assure her that he would make sure everything was okay. On the other hand he had never been really close to her back on Neverland, rather seemed to avoid her instead. He knew that Pan loved games and that he would play with her too, so getting close to her was never an option before. Felix had to admit that the small gesture of her taking his hand earlier showed him how badly he had Felix gentle touches. Everyone around him saw him as the bad guy, so it was probably something he would not receive so quickly.

Perhaps, but eventually he had the chance to prove himself now, to show Y/n and the others that he can change and be a better person. Neverland was the past, and there was nothing holding him back, opening new possibilities for a better life. Felix wanted to change and become a better person, so he knew that he had to keep the girl safe from anyone that might cause trouble in their new start.

"Thanks for helping me back there." Felix whispered into Y/N's direction, trying to make him inaudible as possible for David. He did not want to show him his weakness.

"I wish I could help you sooner. That must have hurt." She whispered back.

"had it worse." he chuckled and leaned back into his seat. There was no way back, so Felix tried to stay optimistic. Y/N did not say anything in response, so they sat in silence as they drove down the road. At the arrival Felix stiffened up before he got out of the car. The building reminded him of a high castle, combined with the aesthetics of a church. Y/N by his side did not look less nervous. Still, he was glad to have her by his side. Felix was not fond of the idea to move into an orphanage with all the boys back from Neverland. No one liked him for good reasons. After what Henry told him, Felix came to the realization that all this time he had been a villain, and that there was no space for evil in this world, his fate being a life with no happy ending. It did not matter how hard it would be, the former lost boy wanted to be good. To do that, he needed to prove that he was no danger and that there was more than violence leading him on. Even if he would straight up apologize to the former lost boys, he strongly doubted that any of them would accept him or spend time with him. Felix used to be on his own back in Neverland, so what had changed? Why did he need to prove something and to whom? The heroes? Y/N? He took another glance at her, asking himself why she stood up for him. She had never been close to him on Neverland, barely talked to him before, but now he was fascinated with the girl. Maybe he did want to convince her especially after she even made it possible to prove himself.

"I told the staff to have a close eye on you." David spoke to Felix as the boy stepped out of the car. "Make trouble and you're in a less comfortable facility. I am talking about supervised living. It won't give you the freedom you're being granted right now. "

Felix replied with a resistant nod. He was far too tired to force a smile and even if he did, the man would know that it was a lie. He turned to get his backpack from the backseat and faced the old building. It was a huge estate with huge towers and many windows, clean from the outside besides some toys laying on the grass. There were the sounds of chickens nearby that must belong to the house. It was welcoming and less scary than Felix had imagined.

"Do you hear that?" Y/N said with a smile, closing her eyes for a second. "I hope there are more animals."

"Maybe they do." Felix gave back and raised his brows, leading the way up to the doorsteps of that building. "Maybe they have sheep or goats."

"What about sheep AND goats!"

He nodded and faced the door to knock, heavy and loud, maybe a little too loud. They waited a moment, then another one and another, until Y/N lifted her hand to knick again. Just as her knuckles were about to touch the wood, the door was finally being opened. The people behind the door were two gaunt nuns, none of them showed any efforts to properly greet them or make them feel welcome in their new home.

"You," One of them pointed at Felix. "Boys section."

"And you," The other one said with a voice naturally softer than the other one's. "Girls section."

Inside the building Felix immediately got separated from Y/N to be escorted to his new room. He had to walk up a large staircase and left down the hallway, and Y/N followed a staircase opposite to the other one, vanishing out of the boy's sight.

"That's it." The nun who escortes him said disdainfully, her meager finger pointing towards the wooden door. "Don't expect much."

Felix looked down into her wrinkled face. She was an old, scanty, time worn woman, ghoulish with pale skin and gray eyes, colder than his own. Her teeth were yellow with brown stains, and given away the scent of coffee, Felix assumed she drank it regularly. With that, she turned, slowly shuffling wearlily down the hallway. Felix already could not stand her, wondering if those emotions came naturally or if there was more than a simple bias behind it. Nevertheless this nun was an unpleasant woman. Opening the door, Felix followed her advice and kept his expectations low. The room was kept simple: There was a bed in the corner with a desk next to it, right underneath the window, a mirror next to the door and a dresser parallel to the bed. Much space left. If Felix owned something personal, he would see it as space to embellish it, but now it was just an empty space.

Felix stepped in and sat down onto his bed. He could not look into the mirror. Not yet. Not after what he had done to Peter Was there true obedience with a heart being under control, or was there not a single move coming from himself? Felix was not sure if he wanted to do this, but in the end he killed his only friend. Did Peter trust him like Felix had trusted him? Now there was no way of telling anymore, so he needed a way to go past this, just like with all the other nasty things he did back on Neverland.

Felix did not see Y/N again until dinner, but by that time she was sitting close to Wendy. Felix was surprised to see the girl here as well, but questioned it not any further. Where else should she be? When she first saw him, the Darling girl froze. It was like her whole body told him to stay away- so he did. While he ate, she seemed to notice his gaze, so she avoided looking in Felix's direction all together. He could not help himself but felt disappointed that Y/N was not accompanying him, but it was understandable that she craved female companions after all. The boy would try to talk to her the next day, noticing how all the boys around him stiffened up and tried to keep their heads to themselves- just like on Neverland. Felix did not like that. He had never felt lonelier, knowing that there was not a single person to talk to. With the mood that bad, Felix decided not to bother any of the others with their presence, swaying onto his feet before leaving the room. Just as he was about to turn and leave, someone stretched out their leg, causing Felix to trip and Fall into the ground. During the sudden crash Felix bit harshly onto his lip and he could feel a small amount of blood mixing with his saliva. When he heard a quiet chuckle, Felix turned around and looked at the boy that had caused him to fall and bite himself. The boy was his age, not much shorter than Felix, golden locks and piercing blue eyes. With those angular cheeek bones Felix felt like looking at someone relative. The pretty boy wore a smug grin and looked down at Felix in full contempt. Felix's eyes burned in anger at the taste of his own blood, picturing a million ways to get revenge. It was not worth it, Felix thought, it only would bring him trouble. Raising to his feet once more he wiped off the blood and glared at the other boy before he walked off. This was not worth a fight, especially in front of the others. Sooner or later he would receive a payback, and the former lost boy never forgot a face, especially not if the other looked quite similar to himself. On the way back to his room, Felix crossed ways with the nun from earlier again. By listening to the conversations at the table he had learned that her name was sister Tilda.

"Have we been in a fight, mr.?" She stated so scornfully, raising her spare eyebrows in a judging manner.

"No I haven't, someone pushed me-" The nun shook her head and kept walking past him. This was useless. All they saw was Pan's pav dog, not a person. They had made their mind up to him and now he was stuck with this impression until he had the chance to prove him otherwise.. He had no idea how to do that, so Felix felt hopeless and frustrated. Laying down onto his bed he contemplated his regrets. During the first night, Felix was constantly tormented by gruesome nightmares. It was as if there was something that was ought to get him, haunting him even when he opened his eyes back open again. Rethinking his life, he came to conclusions that living on Neverland had been a nightmare and Peter Pan was made of them, just like a greenish personification of the devil. Felix hated himself for sticking to him until the very last moment. It gave him the realization that he never had a true friend after all, everything was shallow and built on lies. Felix had no one but himself. He needed to see Y/N again and ask her why she saved him and why she thought he was worth being saved. After all it was her who even thought about him and created a plan, using all her energy to convince the other heroes to help. She must have had a reason for her actions, doubtful she acted on sympathy alone. The next day she went into the city along with Wendy, so Felix kept his distance. He wandered through the corridors, exploring the building when he suddenly crossed the boy from the day before, the one who caused him to trip. Felix wanted to beat him up, show him his place, but he knew that this would be a ticket to get thrown out immediately, far away from Y/N. It was reason enough to care

"So you're the leader of those dirty savages?" He asked with a disgusted expression plastered over his neat face.

"No." Felix shook his head with a deadpan face. "Peter Pan is dead."

Jimmy scoffed and tilted his head. "Wouldn't that make you the leader?"

"No." Felix said again.

"So you're just a savage loser like the rest of you newbies?" He looked disgusted up and down, scanning every little detail. "Your face sure kissed a blender."

Felix felt his blood rise and he gritted his teeth, trying to control himself from not jumping at his throat right away. There was this strong urge to just throw him into the ground and choke the boy until his face turned blue. What a pleasant daydream. He had done worse to boys for even mentioning his scar, but after some time he learned to restrain himself. Not now. Not here. Felix was above this, way too smart and cunning to be tricked into violence like that, not after years being teased by lost boys that tried to get a reaction.

"Dude what is your problem? Have you ever been in a fight? How about you let your fists talk?" Felix gave back snarkily.

"Why should I go down to your level? You will see, sooner or later the nuns will throw you out either way. Some animals just can't be tamed. You newbies are a pest and if it were up to me they should have never let you in that easily. "

"Ah," Felix said with a smirk. "Lost boys can be little devils. Are they giving you nightmares?"

The blonde boy yanked his head away, rolling his eyes and wiping some of his curls behind his ear. "Pathetic to assume any of you would scare us first-arrivals!"

"Because mommy's early abandonment was traumatizing enough already?" Felix chuckled out. The boy gritted his teeth and formed his hands into fists, giving Felix the impression to be attacked any second, so he got in position himself.

"I'll have you out of here quicker than you can think. Wait for it." The boy snarled and gave him a dirty look before he would leave the direction he came from. After the boy stormed off, Felix returned to his room, taking an afternoon nap. When the boy woke up again, he was surrounded by darkness. Searching for the switch of the nightlight, he turned it on, darting his eyes to the watch on the wall. It was past ten already, so he had overslept the dinner and his chance to talk to Y/N again. Felix heard his stomach growling and seconds later he felt a wave of hunger pulling painfully inside him.

"Shut up already!" Felix whispered to himself as he sneaked through the corridors and heard his stomach rumbling again. Inside the kitchen Felix was surprised to still see some light on, and he prepared for an excuse to be in the kitchen, when he suddenly froze in place.

"What are you doing here?"

"Same question." Felix gave back startled, but inside he was happy to meet no one else but Y/N. She looked tired, still she kept doing the dishes.

"Wendy has a headache. It's our turn to clean up."

Y/N stood in front of a pile of dishes, no wonder why she was still awake. Felix stepped closer, grabbing a towel to help without saying anything. It was not needed and he would not even let her fight him on this. Fortunately she said nothing against his presence, instead she let out a small, satisfied hum. This reaction warmed him from deep within his chest after such a rough day.

"What happened to your face?" She asked worriedly and touched his chin. Felix never wanted this to stop.

"I fell." He lied, not wanting to admit that he made an enemy on his first day. It was not like this was on Felix though, there was no reason for the other boy to simply hate him just because he was from Neverland. There had to be more behind it, or else he would treat the girls the same way.

"Be careful." She said out warmly, a soft smile forming on her face.

"I will." He gave back, and with that she removed her hand, making him miss her touch in an instant. Since she returned his heart to him, being with her felt like a dream. Maybe he had created a weird connection to her, or the evil queen enchanted him, or perhaps, this was all just in his head. Nevertheless, her company suddenly started to make him feel nervous like never before, making him believe he was sick or some sort.

"Have you slept well?" Y/N then asked, continuing to wash the dirty plates. "I have looked for you, but sister Edith chased me out of your room and the boy corridor."

Felix giggled at the picture of that, but at the same time he was surprised that Y/N looked after him.

"I felt pretty tired after everything that happened. I am pretty hungry too."

"There is some roasted chicken and potatoes in the fridge."

Felix nodded thankfully, interrupting his assistance for a moment as he warmed himself a plate from the previous dinner. When he was done eating, Y/N had finished cleaning up. She reached for his plate at last while he grabbed a towel and dried the plates.

"Thanks."

"I am the one that should be forever thankful for what you did for me." Felix said, looking over to her. "I just wanted to ask you why you were willing to help me. Everyone thinks I am too dangerous."

Y/N chuckled lightly, shaking her head. It made Felix impatient for her response. "I saw that he only used you when all you wanted was a friend. " She replied and stepped closer to him. He had the urge to just grab her and embrace her in his arms, to tell her how happy he was to have met her and how scared he really was to die. Instead, he looked down at the girl, his eyes glued onto her as he waited for her to continue. Suddenly they both heard some footsteps nearby, so Felix took a step back, curiously watching the door. No one entered, but the motions in the hallway made Felix uneasy enough to return to his room. He had enough troubles for the start.

"Have you seen the chicken yet?" Y/N asked before he could even make the choice to leave. She ignored the footsteps altogether. Felix shook his head.

"Franklin showed them to me. You should meet him, he was very kind and maybe you will find a new friend."

"I will think about it if I meet him."

"I haven't seen him at dinner, so maybe he roams around, too."

Felix did not know who Franklin was, what he looked like or what age he was, but for a second Felix felt a sting when hearing that name a second time. He lied to himself that it had to something else than jealousy. He listened to the sounds behind the door. The footsteps walked past them, but they were too fast for a nun, too many, so the boy assumed it must be the other kids. Maybe even Franklin.

It made Felix feel uneasy. He had no intention to meet the others again or learn to know new faces, so he was glad that Y/N suggested he go outside. Felix rather went out into the cold than get into another uncomfortable situation. The boy finally managed to relax after a long evening, smiling down at Y/N as he followed.

Just as they were to leave the house, Wendy suddenly entered. When she saw Y/N she stopped and stared, her smile quickly fading as he moved them to her side.

"Y/N-" At the sight of Felix she made a horrified face, and he read it as a "shit, not him."

"Wendy-" He started and she widened her eyes, bending her head cautiously aside.

"You should rot in hell. This is not what you deserve after Hell-land." She used his short gap to speak first. She quickly hushed past both of them, not giving Felix any chance to talk.

"She never told me why she hated you so much." Y/N followed the girl with her eyes until she vanished upstairs in the hallway.

"Because I was one of the people that kept her from her family." Felix suggested an idea, looking down at the former lost girl.

"She doesn't hate Devin or the other boys."

"Truth be told, most of them were just harmless morons."

With that he turned and left the building, quickly followed by Y/N. Outside it was freezing and without proper clothes they just took a quick peak around the house, assuming the animals were fed by someone. With a quick glance they saw that there were indeed some goats. It was too cold to stay any longer, so both decided to go inside quickly. On the way back Felix was surprised to see Devin. He remembered him well, so he raised his hand to wave. The boy froze at the sight of him, eyes widened in disbelief. He did not look pleased to see the former second at all. Just like Wendy.

"I really hoped he had killed you." Devin said, his eyes wandered up and down. With that he turned on his heels as if he changed his mind and walked back where he came from. Felix stood and stared. He was silent for a moment before he shook his head and turned to Y/N.

"I think I will head back to my room." He said dryly.

Y/N said nothing but she did not have to. Her eyes were full of disappointment, as if she did not want him to go. Felix did not want to leave her like that, not that soon, but it was late and even though he had slept the whole day he still felt tired and drained. Besides, he could not bear facing any of the other boys right now.

"Can I give you something before you go?" Y/N suddenly said as Felix was about to leave. He looked at her expectantly and gave her a confirming nod before he walked behind her to her room. When they arrived it took her only a few moments to receive a small paper bag with some black fabric inside.

"I saw it and thought about you. It was always warm in Neverland so I thought you would need something warmer." She smiled at him while giving him the bag.

"Thank you." Felix showed his teeth while smiling. He had never received a gift before.

#ouat felix #ouat felix x reader

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penmansparadise · 2 years

Text

Henry Creel ~ Always

*I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO THE GIF OWNER*

Pairing: Henry Creel x Fem!Reader with powers

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse. Mentions of blood. Mild language.

a/n: This was requested from my Wattpad. I really enjoyed writing this one, and as you can see, I got a little carried away lol. You all have to let me know if you want me to make these things shorter because this is like the third story that is over 4k words. Let me know, y'all because I can reel it in if you want me to. Anyway, although the mentions of abuse are very minimal, I always have to say my little rant. If you are dealing with abuse or know someone who is in an abusive situation, please find help. No one deserves to be treated like that, and no one should have to be in that situation. I am always available if anyone needs to talk. My next post will be a Steve Harrington request from my Tumblr, so be ready for that one! Thank you all for the support. You have no idea how much it means to me that you all read my stuff. You all are amazing!!!

Your life wasn’t normal. It never has been. When you were only a little girl, your parents offered you up to Dr. Martin Brenner in exchange for a large sum of money. Your parents had known for a long time that you were special. Your powers started out small. You would fall and get a skinned knee, and within seconds it would be healed. But they soon grew to something much bigger when you healed a baby bird that was on its last breath. Your parents didn’t know what to do with you until they saw an advertisement about a place for special children. They promised you that it wouldn’t be for long. That it was for a good cause, and they would see you again. But that was a lie.

When you got to Dr. Brenner’s laboratory, you quickly learned that he didn’t take you to help with the “greater good of the world.” Instead, you were his lab rat. On day one, Dr. Brenner strapped you down to a chair and tattooed the number 000 on your left forearm. He took all your belongings that your parents packed for you and replaced them with a hospital gown and white flats. He completely stripped you of your identity without even a single shred of remorse. Day two was when training started. Dr. Brenner would hook you up to several wires and put a weird contraption on your head. He kept telling you to concentrate and focus on the task at hand, but you could never deliver. This went on for weeks before he started to get angry. Soon his calm demeanor grew to something more sinister. Whenever he took you to train, he would get physical with you, grabbing and shaking you. He would scream at you because you could never do what he wanted. Then when he had enough of your failures, he would toss you against the wall and walk out of the room, leaving your crying and battered body for the orderlies to deal with. Every night you would go back to your room, sit on your bed, and heal your wounds as you cried. You never let Dr. Brenner know that you were special and that you did have powers. You knew that he was a bad man, and you didn’t want him to use you for his experiments.

So, for months it was just you and your daily torment sessions with Dr. Brenner. Then, one day, he walked in with a little boy around the same age as you. The boy was tall for his age and had slicked brown hair. In the beginning, you didn’t interact with him. In the Rainbow Room, you would just sit alone and watch him. You watched the way he carried himself as if he wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. As if being in a lab instead of his home was nothing out of the ordinary. You watched how happy Dr. Brenner was when he realized the boy had powers. He would spend hours training with the boy and would always be pleased when he was finished. You thought that since this boy had arrived, maybe Dr. Brenner would leave you alone. He didn’t need you anymore because there was a new pet to play with. But that wasn’t the case. Instead of leaving you alone, he would push you even harder than before. When you couldn’t do what the boy could do, Dr. Brenner would get even angrier than previously and hit you and throw you around, screaming at you to do better.

One night after a particularly rough training session, you were in your room healing yourself when the white walls of your room melted away. You looked around, and what used to be your plain room was replaced with the most beautiful beach you had ever seen. The ceiling was a bright blue cloudless expanse that seemed to go on for miles. You threw your legs over the edge of your bed, and when they touched the ground, they were welcomed by the warmth of the grainy sand. The sound of waves washing up on the shore took the place of the quiet hum of the air vent. You moved toward the water and bent down, dipping your fingertips in the cold liquid. You thought you were going crazy. Only moments ago, you were sitting in the tiny room you were assigned when you first arrived. But you didn’t care how you got to the beach. You never wanted to leave. A small smile spread across your lips as you shut your eyes and took in a long inhale, allowing the salty sea water to fill your lungs. When you exhaled, you opened your eyes and realized you weren’t alone. Just off to your left was the boy, and you froze. He just stared at you for a beat before finally speaking.

“I see the way he treats you,” he said as he began walking toward you.

For someone so young, he carried himself with so much confidence.

“Did you do this?” You asked when he finally reached you.

He nodded, and you let out a little sigh. You knew that he could move things with his mind, but you didn’t know that he could also conjure up images in someone else’s mind.

“Why?”

“Because,” he began, toeing at the sand, “you deserve to be happy.”

Your heart jumped in your chest as you stared into his blue eyes. You could feel your hands getting clammy as your nerves started to get the better of you. But the boy wasn’t fazed.

“I’m Henry,” he said, holding his hand out.

You looked at his outreached palm before taking it in yours and shaking it.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Why do you let him treat you like that?” He asked, releasing your hand.

You shrugged and gave a dry laugh.

“I don’t really have a say in how he treats me.”

Although you had resigned to your fate, it was still upsetting when you thought about it. But Henry didn’t seem as upset. Instead, his stare was hard, and his fists were balled at his sides.

“I can stop your pain, Y/N.”

Henry said the statement like it was fact, and you were taken aback just slightly at how matter of fact he sounded. But before you could say anything about it, Dr. Brenner’s voice echoed off the water like he was galaxies away. Both you and Henry turned toward the sound before Henry turned back to you and took your hands in his. His deep blue eyes stared into yours, and he said, “It’s you and me, Y/N. Always. Remember that, okay?”

He didn’t give you a chance to retort before he ran off, causing the beach to melt back into your room. That was the day you and Henry became friends. It was also the day you realized you would do anything to be around him. You liked the way your heart leaped in your chest when he was near. You liked the way Henry somehow made you laugh after Dr. Brenner’s hands made you feel anything but happy. So, you were more than excited when Henry made it a habit to sneak into your room late at night. And this habit carried into your teenage years.

Henry would visit you and use his powers to take you somewhere new every night. One time he conjured up the Eiffel Tower. Another night it was Rome, then the Taj Mahal. He took you everywhere he could remember from his World Almanac. It was during those nightly visits when all his walls were down, and it was just the two of you, that your feelings for him grew. You never wanted your middle-of-the-night rendezvous to end and wanted to be around him all the time. It didn’t take long for you to realize that you were absolutely in love with that boy and would do anything for him. On the day Dr. Brenner implanted Soteria into Henry’s neck, he rushed to your room in tears. It was the first time you ever saw him truly broken. He fell into your arms and sobbed for what felt like hours.

“What happened?” You had asked.

Henry pulled back from your chest and looked at you, hopeless.

“Dr. Brenner took away my most important power.”

“Which one?”

His bottom lip quivered, and a small whimper fell from his lips.

“The one that makes you happy.”

At that moment, you didn’t understand what he was talking about. But you realized what he meant when he stopped creating images during his nightly visits. But his ineptitude in using his powers didn’t stop you from loving him, because it wasn’t his ability to conjure up the seven wonders of the world that made you happy. It was him.

As the years went by, more children with telekinetic powers joined you and Henry at the lab. You and Henry got older, and soon Dr. Brenner stopped training with the two of you, making you two orderlies instead. Even as adults, there was still no way to escape Dr. Brenner. So, you found your purpose in protecting the children he experimented on, healing them whenever he pushed them too hard.

You ran your hands over the all-white uniform Dr. Brenner issued all his orderlies when your door opened, and Henry slid inside. He walked over to your bed, plopping down like it was his. You let out a little laugh as you looked at him through the mirror mounted on your wall.

“What? You don’t knock anymore?”

He folded his arms behind his head.

“Not when I’m not supposed to be here.”

You shook your head and turned around, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Then why are you sitting on my bed if you’re not supposed to be here?”

“Because,” he said, giving you a playful grin, “I had to see you.”

You took slow steps toward him, taking in all of his features as he lay on your bed.

“You couldn’t wait until tonight?” You asked when you finally made it to the side of your bed.

He just shook his head and said, “Nope,” popping the “P” sound.

You chuckled as you moved across the room to gather the things you’d need for the day. Henry sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees.

“Where does Brenner have you working today?”

The question came out with venom and malice, and you didn’t even have to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes. You ignored it, turned to him, held up a hairnet, and scrunched your nose.

“Kitchen duty.”

Henry stood with a devilish grin that he only got when he was up to no good.

“Why don’t you come with me instead?” He asked and raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be with the kids in the Rainbow Room.”

Your shoulders slumped, and you let out a sigh.

“Henry, I can’t. We both know what Brenner will do if he catches me somewhere I’m not supposed to be.”

Henry rolled his eyes again at the mention of Dr. Brenner.

“Come on,” he said, closing the gap between the two of you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Brenner’s schedule is like clockwork. I’ll make sure you’re in the kitchen before he even walks into the Rainbow Room.”

With Henry so close, your stomach did about fifteen somersaults. His hands caressed your lower back a little, and he gave you his sweetest smile. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to be so close, but it still made your heart nearly stop whenever it happened. You looked at him and his brows raised again before you finally heaved a huge sigh and said, “Fine.”

Henry’s smile grew even wider as he released you from his hold and led you to the Rainbow Room. By the time you entered, the children were already inside playing. Some of the older children were huddled in the corner. They had been there long enough that you could see the warmth in their eyes had disappeared. The younger children, on the other hand, still maintained their childlike wonder. At least for now. When you entered the room, Henry wandered off toward Eleven, a young girl with whom he had been spending an increasing amount of time, and you found Sixteen. He was one of the youngest among the children, but you enjoyed spending time with him the most.

The little boy was excited to see you when you took a seat next to him. He was playing with one of the wooden puzzles. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Henry sitting on the floor next to Eleven at the Plinko game. You turned to look at him only to find his eyes were already on you. A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips, and you looked down. Even the smallest interaction as such sent your heart racing. When you looked back up, you watched as Henry interacted with Eleven. He was so gentle with the children, which was only one of the many things that continued to attract you to him.

“Are you and Mr. Henry in love?” Sixteen asked loudly.

You could see Henry’s back straighten before he turned just enough for you to see a smirk playing on his lips. You turned to Sixteen, who was staring at you, waiting for your answer.

“Uh,” you began, rubbing the back of your neck, “why would you ask that, Sixteen?”

The little boy regained playing with his puzzle as he spoke.

“Because you’re always looking at one another. And he smiles at you a lot.”

You snuck a glance in Henry’s direction and could see the blush that was slowly spreading across his cheeks before fully turning your attention back to the little boy.

“Does he now?”

“Yeah,” Sixteen said brightly, “I see him do it all the time.”

He stopped playing with his puzzle, leaned closer to you, and whispered, “He’s doing it now.”

You turned only to be met with Henry’s crystalline eyes. You knew he could hear your and Sixteen’s conversation by the way he was beaming at you. Butterflies tickled your insides, and you bit your bottom lip as a way to contain the smile that was fighting to spread across your face.

“And what would you think if Mr. Henry and I were in love?”

The little boy shrugged.

“I don’t know. He’s nice, so I like him.”

You peeked over your shoulder at Henry again before saying, “Yeah, I like him too, Sixteen.”

You watched Sixteen put puzzle after puzzle together when suddenly the door swung open. When you looked up, Dr. Brenner was walking into the room. His eyes landed on you immediately, and his lips pulled into a tight line. You turned to Henry, who was looking from his watch to Dr. Brenner, a frown forming on his face. That’s when you realized. Dr. Brenner was early. His schedule wasn’t as concrete as Henry had thought. All the children jumped up and lined up on either side of his looming figure. But you didn’t move from your seat, and Dr. Brenner’s cold stare never left yours.

“Good morning, children.”

“Good morning, Papa,” they all said in unison.

“How are we feeling today?”

“Good, Papa.”

His eyes narrowed at you.

“Good,” he said before finally moving his focus to one of the children. “Twelve, would you mind opening the door? Mr. David will be taking you all to the training room.”

His stare moved back to you, and you sunk a little in your chair.

“I will be joining you all shortly. There is something I have to take care of first.”

The orderly David started walking, and all the children followed until it was only you,

Brenner, and Henry in the Rainbow Room. But Dr. Brenner didn’t seem to notice Henry was still sitting by the Plinko game as he approached you. There was nowhere for you to go. So, you just sat there, frozen in place, until Dr. Brenner’s cold hand grabbed your arm, yanking you to your feet.

“I thought I assigned you to the kitchen,” he said through gritted teeth.

Your eyes were wide, and you could feel your hands starting to tremble as Dr. Brenner’s grip tightened around your arm.

“You did,” you said, voice wobbling just slightly.

Dr. Brenner pulled you closer and growled, “Then why are you in here?”

“I-I,” you began as you tried to look anywhere but his irate stare. But Brenner’s face was so close to yours that he was all you could see. You let out a shaky breath.

“I don’t know.”

Brenner dipped his head, and you were finally able to see Henry. His smile was gone. In its place was a scowl as he stared at Brenner’s hand on your arm. Then Henry disappeared behind Dr. Brenner’s head again.

“You know what happens when you don’t follow the rules, Y/N,” Dr. Brenner hissed.

A small sob fell from your lips as Dr. Brenner started dragging you toward the door.

“No,” you begged, “please, it won’t happen again.”

But your pleas weren’t received by Dr. Brenner. You tried to dig your feet into the ground, but it didn’t stop him. You knew exactly what was going to happen. You had seen it happen to several people in the past. Brenner would stand over you while he had one of his lackeys beat you senseless while the other tased you. You pulled against him, but it was no use. His grip was too tight. But just before you got to the door, Henry stood up, gaining Brenner’s attention.

“It was my idea,” he said.

Brenner’s brow creased, and his hold on your arm loosened.

“What?”

“I told Y/N to come here with me instead of going to the kitchen.”

“Henry,” you begged, and when his eyes flashed to yours, you mouthed, “What are you doing?”

He just stood a little taller, squaring his shoulders, and looked at Brenner.

“I take full responsibility, and I’m ready to face the consequences.”

Brenner’s fingers tightened around your arm for a second before he tossed you to the side. You toppled to the floor, and when you looked up, Brenner was towering over you.

“You got lucky this time,” he said before waving for two of the other orderlies to seize Henry.

Your stomach dropped as you watched the two men each grab one of Henry’s arms and haul him out of the room. Moments after they had exited, another orderly was sent in to escort you back to your room. But, when you got there, you didn’t relax. How could you when you knew that Brenner was practically torturing Henry as a form of sick punishment? The hours felt like years as you waited for Henry to sneak into your room like he did every night. But when he didn’t show up, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You cracked your door open, made sure the hallway was empty, then hurried off toward Henry’s room.

You were familiar with the path to him. It wasn’t the first time you had snuck out before. You padded down several hallways before you finally came upon his room. You opened the door just wide enough for you to slide inside, then shut it. The room was lit only by the tiny illumination from a nightlight plugged into the wall. At first, you weren’t even sure if he was in the room with you, but when your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, you saw his balled-up figure on his bed. He was curled in the fetal position and not moving. You took a small step forward.

“Henry?”

You waited for him to respond, but the only answer you got was silence. Just when you thought he may not even be breathing, he sniffled, and your heart clenched in your chest at the sound. From where you stood, you couldn’t tell the extent of his injuries, so you cautiously approached Henry’s bed. When you finally got a clear look at him, you gasped. His shirt, which used to be white, was burned in several spots and smeared with blood. In the muted light, you thought you saw his body shaking, and could feel your heart shatter. The once confident man was gone and replaced with someone you couldn’t recognize. Someone who was defeated and frightened. You reached out to touch him but stopped short, afraid that if you even grazed his delicate skin, he would fall apart.

“Henry,” you whispered, his name sounding like thunder in the silence.

You reached out again, and this time you let your fingertips touch his arm. When they made contact, he flinched, causing you to retract. Tears brimmed your eyes as you watched him sit up, wincing with each deliberate movement. When he was fully upright, you got a good look at his face. His beautiful porcelain skin was littered with cuts and bruises that did not belong there. You had to bite back the sadness and anger that was trying to claw its way out of you. Henry leaned against the wall and huffed.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said, his voice hoarse.

But it was as bad as it looked. Henry’s eyes were swollen, and there was dry blood all over his face. He couldn’t even move without being in pain. Your blood was boiling, and although you tried to control yourself, you couldn’t.

“No?” You snapped before pointing at his distressed shirt. “Take off your shirt.”

Henry froze for a second, then shook his head and tried to wave you off.

“Really,” he said, hissing as he readjusted himself, “I’m fine, Y/N.”

You plopped down in front of him and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“I wasn’t asking,” you muttered before undoing the last button and throwing his shirt over his shoulders.

When the thin fabric was removed, you sucked in a short breath, your hand shooting to your mouth. His body was defaced. A blend of colors from red to black to blue decorated his torso. He was covered with marks that looked like they came from a wild beast rather than the hands of men. Just looking at him, you could feel your heart breaking. He was in this condition because of you. Your mouth opened and closed several times before you could finally form words. You peeled your eyes away from his wounded body and shook your head.

“Why did you say that it was your idea earlier? Why did you take the blame?” You looked at his face, your voice gaining strength as anger and guilt built inside you. “I made the decision to go with you. This,” you motioned toward his abdomen, “this should have never happened to you.”

“But it should have happened to you?” Henry questioned, his words sharp.

You looked at him befuddled.

“Yes, Henry.”

He pushed himself off the wall, moving a little closer toward you, and scoffed.

“No. I did what needed to be done.” He dipped his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if Brenner did this to you.”

You let your eyes fall back to his chest. The cuts and gashes stood stark against his pale skin, and you couldn’t stand to see the man you loved in pain any longer.

“Let me heal you,” you stated.

Henry lifted his head to look at you again. In the darkness, his sharp features looked much softer. In that light, he wasn’t a man who had been scorned. No, he was the young boy you fell in love with all over again. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he just held your gaze, so you nodded.

“Let me heal you, Henry.”

His throat bobbled a little before he said, “Okay.”

You reached forward until you were touching his bare skin. Goosebumps pricked his skin at your touch. Your fingertips brushed over his abdomen, tracing every inch of him until you flattened your palm over his heart. You shut your eyes and exhaled slowly. Even through your closed eyelids, you could see your hand glowing a wonderful candescent yellow. The power emitting from you whirled around you and Henry. A wind that wasn’t present before you started healing him picked up. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know that your powers were working on him. One by one, you could feel his wounds healing. Finally, when the last lesion was closed up, you opened your eyes but didn’t remove your hand from Henry’s bare chest. He was staring at you, an unclear emotion dancing in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

You bit your bottom lip, then swallowed your feelings down and nodded.

“Of course,” you said, reluctantly pulling your hand back to your lap. “You know I’ll always be here if anything ever happens to you.”

“I know.”

You didn’t look back at Henry. Instead, your eyes were glued to your hands wringing in your lap. You and Henry had spent many nights together, but there was something different about this one. All your feelings started an assault on your brain that you desperately tried to control. But, when you finally looked back at Henry, your defenses fell. His eyes, blue like the rarest sapphires, completely captivated you, and you knew you couldn’t hide anymore. “Henry,” you began but stopped when the fear bubbling in your stomach started to creep up your throat.

He leaned toward you even more than before.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

Your lips parted as you stared at him until you had the strength to go on.

“You always say it’s you and me. Ever since you got here, it’s always been you and me. Well, when Brenner took you today, I-I got scared because” you took in a shaky breath, “because I thought he was going to kill you. And judging by the extent of your wounds, he was just shy of doing it.” You started to fidget with Henry’s sheets, needing a way to release the nervous energy that was steadily building inside you.

“But I don’t want to be without you,” you began. “I can’t. I want to get out of here with you. I want to go visit all those places you used to show me when we were younger.”

Your cheeks were wet, and you didn’t know when you started to cry, but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter.

“I want to experience life and freedom,” you said, throwing your arms in the air and heaving a huge sigh. “And I want to do it all with you because I love you, Henry.”

You dropped your head, the tiny droplets on your cheeks dropping onto the bed. Your mind was reeling. You thought you made a mistake until Henry cupped your cheeks and lifted your face. His thumbs wiped away the wet streaks on your cheeks, and his lips pulled into a smile.

“I love you too, Y/N. And I promise I will end your pain here. We will get out of here.”

His words were sincere. His thumb glided over your cheek again.

“It’s you and me, baby. Always.”

You nodded.

“Always.”

Then, Henry pulled your lips onto his with fervor. Your eyes shot open wide for a split second before you melted into the kiss. It was delicate but also frantic. Like it was the first and last time you’d ever be able to feel his lips against yours. It was passionate and untamed. Your fingers tangled in his hair as one of his hands slid to the back of your neck, and the other found your thigh. His fingers dug into your skin, and you knew you’d never be able to get that feeling out of your head. When he finally pulled back, you wanted to grab Henry’s face and reconnect your lips with his. You didn’t need oxygen anymore. All you wanted to do was breathe him in. You looked at Henry’s dilated pupils, and you could tell he wanted nothing more than to do the same thing you wanted. He lay back onto his bed and moved the comforter back, leaving as much space for you as possible. You didn’t even have to think about it as you crawled next to him. His arms curled around you, pulling you into his chest. The warmth of his bare chest on your back emanated throughout your body like you had just drank a fresh cup of hot chocolate. You knew you should have gotten up and gone back to your room. You knew that if Brenner caught the two of you together, it wouldn’t only be Henry who got punished. But you didn’t care. Even though the risk of getting caught was real, you trusted Henry. He would never let anything happen to you. So, instead of leaving, you leaned even closer to Henry and shut your eyes. To hell with Brenner.

Tag List: @violetrainbow412-blog @pastel-abyss-x @lilliandanelle @ilovereadingfanfics

#henry creel #henry creel imagine #henry creel imagines #henry creel fanfic #henry creel fanfiction #henry creel x reader #henry creel x y/n #henry creel x you #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fandom

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piceuscelus · 5 months

Note

t4t ciri/cerys, cerys is so determined to seduce ciri she doesn't realize how easy it's going to be (idk if you wanted, like, trans SPECIFIC prompts vs just prompts with trans characters? i do very much envision this as trans girls having slutty crushes on each other and being endearingly awkward about it bc maybe people haven't responded well to them in the past, or maybe ciri doesn't realize cerys is also trans? but also just a simple cute blushy t4t fuckfest would be great lol)

(i will send another, trashier prompt next)

hi i know this prompt was Forever Ago but i did NOT forget it

it just fuckin Refused To Go

but it went! finally! and now it's here! and it's even below my tumblr post limit! (it admittedly might not be exactly to the prompt. but)

it'll be going up on ao3 like, immediately after this ask posts in case anyone is terribly concerned about content tags but this one is Extremely Tame and soft

trans woman Ciri / nonbinary Cerys

It’s a pity, Ciri thinks, that she doesn’t make it back to the Isles very often. Of course, she knows perfectly well why she doesn’t – she rules both Nilfgaard and Cintra, and thus most of the southern half of the Continent. She’s entirely too busy to be galavanting off to Skellige without a purpose – her court will barely allow her the occasional Witchering break, and they only do that begrudgingly because if they don’t, she tends to start threatening to skewer diplomats. The likelihood of that stuffy lot agreeing to let her vacation to Skellige for no good reason is slim to none.

There is the upside, though, that she never has to bother with a week-long boat trip unless she has a hankering for being sea sick.

When she lands on solid ground, it’s bright and sunny and frigidly cold. She takes a deep breath and just revels in it for a moment, even as she starts to shiver, taking in the familiar smells and sounds.

Of course, as soon as someone notices her standing there in the courtyard, a commotion starts up.

She sighs, but tolerates the sudden influx of guards and their squires rushing over to investigate, and then, once they’ve assured themselves that she’s a known guest, if an unexpected one, the addition of half a dozen maids that arrive to fuss. All of them are bowing so low they may as well be kneeling – it would be faster and require less stumbling, at least – and stammering as they try to address her with an amount and type of formality that’s always been a bit foreign on the Isles.

When she can finally get a word in edgewise, she cuts straight to the chase. “Yes, thank you, where is Queen Cerys?”

One of the guards answers. “Her Majesty is with the jarls, out on the cliffs.”

Ciri raises an eyebrow. “What for?”

“It’s a tradition, Your Imperial Majesty,” another guard says, the capital letters and his unfamiliarity with her title obvious in the stilted, slow way he speaks. “A…rebirth, of sorts, for the new year. All of the jarls, the druids, and the Queen jump into the sea to be cleansed.”

“And several others, for the fun of it,” one of the squires adds, sounding almost bemused, as if he doesn’t quite understand how the dive could be fun.

Ciri isn’t entirely sure fun is the right word, really – she’d probably use thrill instead. She remembers, now, years and years ago, watching Eist do something similar – but it was in the summer, when the cold waters were a fairly refreshing shock, and not the tail end of fall, when falling into the sea could easily become a death sentence if you were stupid or sickly. She’d been allowed to jump then, too, though only into the shallows and not off the cliffside with the rest (for the sake of her grandmother’s blood pressure).

Then again, the line between the concept of fun and thrill is a thin one, and, well – she’d come to the Isles for fun, hadn’t she?

“Which shore are they on?”

– – – – –

When Ciri finally makes it up the cliff where the local nobility are making like ritual-minded lemmings, Cerys is just beginning to strip down to her underthings in preparation for her own jump. It appears she’s the last of the leaders to go, most of the jarls already soaked and shivering on the beach below.

She keeps her more lurid thoughts to herself, watching Cerys shuck her dress, and makes a split second decision to distract her mind from the gutter. “Aye! Time for a late arrival?”

The spears immediately pointed in her direction aren’t a shock, so she mostly ignores them, just stopping where she’s at and waiting.

“Don’t you lot recognize the damn Empress?” Cerys asks, laughing as everyone sort of sheepishly shuffles their weapons back to where they belong. She looks at Ciri to continue, “And don’t you know better than to barge into a group of Islanders unannounced?”

Ciri laughs, too, but doesn’t bother answering – it’s a rhetorical question, and they all know that really, she’s allowed to barge in wherever she’d like. She gestures to the edge of the cliff. “Well, may I join?”

Cerys also gestures to the cliff, but with an over-exaggerated, fake curtsy. “You may!”

Immediately, there are a handful of damp squires appearing at her side, hands held out, so she strips off and hands her clothes over. She only strips down to the same as Cerys, the single layer of underthings – she doesn’t particularly understand the point of wearing anything for this, but she’s also aware that her penchant for nudity is unusual, and is willing to follow the Queen’s lead.

“Together, then?” Cerys asks, when Ciri steps up to her side. They’re both shivering lightly in the icy breeze wafting in from the waves. “Or would you like the honor alone?”

“You’re the Queen of the Skellige Isles, Cerys, it ought to be your honor,” Ciri says, half-teasing, and Cerys’ eyes sparkle.

“And you’re the Witcher Cirilla of Vengerberg, Lioness of Cintra and Empress of Nilfgaard, The Swallow Bearing the Sun in Her Wings,” Cerys retorts, “and you outrank me by a league. So?”

Ciri rolls her eyes as theatrically as possible at the full title, though she’s privately pleased that Cerys used both of Vengerberg and the informal order of it. “Together, then.”

She offers her hand as she takes a step closer to the cliff’s edge, toes already freezing in the sparse, damp grass.

Cerys steps up alongside her and threads their fingers together. “Of course, Your Imperial Majesty,” she says, with a little half-curtsy, still a fake one since she’s not wearing a damn dress, and a smirk that belies the formal tone.

Ciri immediately drops Cerys’ hand just to shove her off the cliff and jump right after her.

– – – – –

By the time they’ve swum back to shore, anyone else who wanted to jump has already done it, and it turns into a race back to the castle before fingers and toes go from numb to dead. All the same, they’re laughing as they finally stumble into the marginally-warmer stone halls, the mood easy and light, chatter and laughter echoing off of the high ceilings.

It’s only when they’ve made their way to Cerys’ rooms, already prepped and ready with a large, steaming bath, that Ciri realizes she has absolutely no idea where she’s meant to be staying. Or if she’s even welcome.

Her rank and power do a lot to smooth the way wherever she’d like to go – and her sword and medallion often do what the crown cannot – but she prefers not to use any of them like a cudgel.

Cerys, though, seems to have the same realization a beat after her.

“I can send someone to make up a room,” she says, “but in the meantime, we could share a bath.” There’s a hint of lechery in the quirk of her lips. “Only if you don’t think that would be too…improper, of course.”

Ciri nearly asks where in the world Cerys picked up the idea that she’s ever given a single fuck about proper, but decides that playing coy is much more fun. “It might be,” she says, slowly. “But….”

She rubs her arms and shivers. It’s a little exaggerated, but certainly not entirely an act – she is cold, clothes still wet and skin a little slimy where the seawater lingers.

“It’s cold, and it’ll take too long to make up another bath for you,” Cerys says, and this time her tone is at least half-serious. “You’ll catch your death, Your Imperial Highness – and I cannot, nor do I want to, imagine the horrors your court would bring down upon me if I allowed it to happen. I’m just a lowly Islander queen, after all.”

The snark is back, with the last part, and Ciri can’t help how she snorts.

“Alright, alright.” She prods Cerys into the room and follows along, closing the door behind them. She catches sight of a door across the room shutting with utmost gentleness, likely a servant who had realized that they were not needed and decided to at least be discreet about their eavesdropping. “I’m sure my honor will survive the blow.”

“Mine certainly won’t, but it’s not as if I had much to begin with,” Cerys retorts, and Ciri chokes on another laugh.

“You know what they say about Skelligers,” she says, trailing off with a wink, and Cerys just raises an eyebrow.

“What, that we’re one good blow away from a fight?”

Ciri giggles. “No, that you’re one good blow to anyone’s honor.”

It clearly takes a second to click, Cerys squinting at her for slightly longer than a typical beat, but Ciri sees the moment it finally dawns, the queen’s eyes going wide before she starts cackling.

“That was awful, Cirilla,” she scolds, but she’s grinning wide and there’s no heat to her voice, just poorly-concealed laughter.

Before Ciri can come up with another witty reply – either about her wonderful wordplay, or the use of her full first name – Cerys is huffing and shaking her head, starting to tug at her own layers.

She tosses them directly onto the floor with no care as she wriggles free of them, and Ciri starts to do the same, struggling out of the top dress and progressively wetter layers beneath, until she’s reached the last of them, her underthings still soaked and getting slimier by the second.

She hesitates. As unpleasant as the soggy cotton is, and as thrilled as she usually is to be free of clothes, it’s…. Well. If this were just a bath with a friend, or even just fellow nobility, it wouldn’t be anything to drop her clothes. She’s done it before in springs and bathhouses.

But this isn’t just another sovereign, or even just a friend. This is…well, it’s Cerys, someone that Ciri can admit (at least in her own head, privately, to herself) she’s been carrying a torch about for…as long as they’ve known one another, probably.

(Definitely.)

Cerys is speaking again, though, as she’s peeling out of the layer just above her underthings, struggling with the fabric as its soaked so much water up from the layer below, and Ciri is distracted from her not-quite spiral about her infatuation.

“It’s rude to stare, you know,” Cerys says, and Ciri’s stomach drops to the floor in the split second it takes for her to notice the wry quirk to Cerys’ mouth. Before she can relocate her own words, Cerys continues, though this time it’s quieter, more of a mutter. “...then again, s’pose I have no room to speak on that.”

Ciri doesn’t think she was meant to hear that last bit. She’s aware that she should probably pretend she didn’t.

But she’s burningly curious as to what, exactly, that means, so she quirks a brow when Cerys’ eyes next catch hers. “Oh?”

Harmless, directionless flirting is one thing – something they’ve been doing for the same amount of time Ciri’s carried the torch – but that? That sounded like an admission.

Cerys makes a small, short sound, something of a cross between a squeak and a snort, coloring a little. “If I may be crass, Your Imperial Majesty,” she winks, and Ciri feels herself flushing, because this time the title sounds more genuine, even if it’s in a crude way. “You have a truly spectacular pair of tits.”

Ciri snickers, and before she even thinks it all the way through, she’s quipping, “Thank you, Yennefer helped me pick them out when I got tired of being shaped wrong.”

What she’s said sinks in just a second too late, and she sucks in a breath, biting her cheek against trying to over explain. It’s possible Cerys will misunderstand that – think it has to do with self-esteem, and not anything to do with the confused whispers about wasn’t the heir to Cintra a boy? – but if she opens her mouth again, she could give the truth away.

But Cerys’ mouth drops open to mirror how tightly Ciri’s gritting her teeth, and she stutters, “You were – ” before she’s squeaking and putting a hand over her mouth.

They stand frozen, just staring at one another, for a long moment.

Ciri tries to find her voice, tries to come up with something to say – to brush it off, or to admit the truth, or maybe a secret third option she hasn’t come up with yet. She doesn’t know, but the silence is stretching out longer and longer, and she feels like there are ants crawling along the back of her neck.

Despite all her frantic thoughts, Cerys beats her to breaking it. “Something we almost have in common, then,” she says, and finishes peeling out of her underclothes, revealing her own chest – perfectly flat, nothing but solid muscle and pink-white scars cupping the shape of her pectorals. “Mousesack helped me pick mine when I got tired of the same.”

And the scars are – obvious, really, Cerys is hardly the first person Ciri has met with them, but it takes until she speaks for it to really click, and then – and then she’s laughing, caught somewhere between fierce relief and flustered sheepishness.

“Good to know we have that in common?” she asks, voice shifting down a little, like it hasn’t since she was thirteen and Yennefer started teaching her how to pitch it higher, and she hopes that Cerys understands her meaning – that she means a bit more than just picking out surgi-magical modifications to their chests.

She expects that Cerys will laugh, probably – that she’ll poke fun at Ciri, almost certainly. What she doesn’t expect, in any way, is for Cerys to step into her space, reaching out and cupping one roughened palm around the nape of her neck to yank her even closer.

“I’m pretty sure it’s more than that,” she murmurs, and then her mouth is ghosting over Ciri’s, the distant suggestion of a kiss.

Like hell is she going to turn that down.

They’re still shivering finely from the cold and wet, Ciri’s underthings uncomfortably slimy between them – really, it’s atrocious how seawater just never actually seems to dry, just turns to slime and then…crusts – but none of that really matters, not in the face of the kiss.

The kiss, which is going quickly from chaste and almost innocent to something decidedly more hungry, Cerys’ fingers finding their way into Ciri’s hair, her other hand creeping around her waist and then up to cup her ribs. Ciri, for her part, gets her hands on Cerys’ waist first, and then shifts them to the lower curve of her spine and the place between her shoulderblades as they press closer.

When they finally break apart they’re both panting, and the way Cerys’ fingers are curling around the curve of Ciri’s skull, a rough, callused thumb rasping back and forth just under her ear, has Ciri shivering for reasons entirely unrelated to the damp.

She doesn’t know if Cerys misreads the trembling, or if maybe she understands and simply makes an unrelated decision, but without a word she’s taking a step back, pulling Ciri gently toward the bath. The way she tugs at Ciri’s remaining clothes, though, is significantly less gentle.

It’s a little hard to get naked, considering that they both refuse to step away from another with equal fervor, but between four hands they manage. They also succeed – somehow – in clambering their way into the bath without injury.

Through another kiss, they end up settled on a very convenient seat along the edge of the ridiculously large tub, Ciri on the ledge and Cerys perched in her lap. The position leaves their bottom halves in quite close contact for the first time, and before Ciri can even start to – explain? apologize? she’s not entirely sure – Cerys is humming, a distinctly pleased little sound, and settling her weight more firmly in Ciri’s lap.

“Hello there,” she says, and rolls her hips, pinning Ciri’s half-hard cock properly between them. “I’d ask about pockets, but all things considered, I think I can just assume you’re happy to see me.”

Ciri wants to say something in response to that – even if it’s just to cry hypocrisy about Cerys’ early rebuke of Ciri’s earlier pun – but all that comes out is a thin, reedy little moan.

It makes Cerys laugh, but it’s a breathy sound, cut off when she presses their mouths together again, so Ciri isn’t too terribly offended.

She’s usually more put together, she swears she is, but, well. This torch has been burning for a little less than most of her life, for fucks’ sake.

While they kiss, Cerys starts to move, rocking her hips to grind them together, and both of them end up making broken, breathless little noises into each others’ mouths. The water intensifies the friction, washing away the slick either of them could produce well before it’s of any use, but it also makes the movements easier, smoothing out the jerkiness where both of them are startling to tremble.

Gods above, Ciri should not be this close because of a handful of kisses and a pretty queen in her lap. She’s not sure if it’s because she’s been pining for a ridiculous length of time, or that she’s not had much time for anyone except her own hand lately, or maybe that Cerys really is just that incredible. Whatever it is, she absolutely refuses to embarrass herself so thoroughly, at least this first time.

It takes entirely too much willpower, but she gets her hands on Cerys’ hips, stopping the rocking movement and splashing water over the edges of the tub with the sudden interruption to the water’s motion. Cerys makes a little sound, whiny and petulant, and Ciri is halfway through a choked sort of coo at how cute that was when Cerys’ eyes snap open.

“Sorry, was that – ”

Ciri feels a little bad when pressing her fingers over Cerys’ lips apparently gets some bathwater in her mouth, but she doesn’t need an apology and doesn’t want to entertain it. “I’m fine,” she assures. “I just – have a better idea.”

At that, the scrunched combination of shock and concern on Cerys’ face smooths out, replaced instead by obvious curiosity. Her eyes are bright and her lips are a little swollen from their kisses, and Ciri has to resist the urge to lean forward and nip at them, at least for now. Instead, she starts prodding Cerys off of her lap, and giggles when Cerys’ expression once again shifts in a heartbeat, turning to a small pout even as she follows the silent direction and finds her own feet.

Ciri can’t resist that, not entirely, so she leans forward to kiss the corner of the pout as she also stands from the bench. Cerys turns her head and turns it into a real kiss, because of course she does, and Ciri is weak, so she allows it for a long moment.

“C’mon,” she finally says, when they have to pull apart for air, and before Cerys can complain – or catch her in another kiss – she slips behind her and gently nudges her forward again.

She tries to turn at first, clearly trying to sit, but Ciri gets her arms around her waist and keeps her facing forward. She nuzzles against Cerys’ ear and whispers, “Like this,” before guiding her forward again, until her knees are pressed to the bench.

From there, she drags her hands back down to Cerys’ hips, then her thighs, coaxing her to keep going forward, until she’s kneeling on the ledge. That’s when she seems to get the idea, suddenly tugging out of Ciri’s grip to scoot forward and bend at the waist, bracing her palms against the thick edge of the tub.

“Yeah, perfect,” Ciri murmurs, and leans forward to press a kiss between Cerys’ shoulderblades, fingers finding the stretched smoothness of the scars on her chest. She kisses down Cerys’ spine, hands following the same path but down her front, and when she’s reached where her back starts to curve into ass, Ciri shifts her weight and drops into a low crouch.

She uses her hands, curled around the very tops of Cerys’ thighs, to shift her hips up a little more, just enough to lift her cunt properly above the water.

Cerys shivers and whines, soft and breathless, and Ciri presses a kiss to where the waterline is lapping at the back of her thigh.

“This okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cerys is almost panting. When Ciri looks up – she has to lean a little to the side, to see more than the curve of Cerys’ ass and spine – Cerys is turned to look over her shoulder, eyes gone wide and dark.

She keeps their gazes locked as she slowly trails her fingers up and to the side, along the cut of Cerys’ hipbone, and then in and down, until she’s petting over the soft curls just above her slit. Cerys’ lashes flutter, mouth dropping open for the space of a panting breath before she’s sucking her bottom lip into her mouth to bite at it.

She whines when Ciri doesn’t keep going, squirming a little, hips rolling forward into Ciri’s hand. Ciri chuckles and turns her head to kiss along the curve of her ass and back down to the back of her thigh.

“Can I?” she asks, dragging her fingers further down, almost to Cerys’ clit but not quite there yet. Already, she can feel the heat – the difference between the water and Cerys’ body, the apex of her thighs, much warmer where she’s all swollen.

Cerys whines and bucks her hips, stammering out a, “P-please.”

Ciri lets the movement do what it intended to do, since she asked so nicely, fingers slipping over Cerys’ clit. The friction of it is a little rough with nothing but water between them yet, but Cerys just whines and bucks again, so Ciri keeps going, until Cerys has made a proper mess of herself and the touch is slick and wet.

“Good,” Ciri murmurs, mostly thoughtless, and traces an intentional, firm circle around Cerys’ clit at the same time she mouths along the edge of her outer labia, tongue flickering barely over where she’s wet and fluttering. Those touches earn her another whine, more desperate this time, as Cerys leans harder against her braced arms just so she can raise her hips and press back into the tease of Ciri’s mouth. “Yeah, fuck, so good.”

“C-Ciri, please,” Cerys breathes.

Ciri curses and leans further forward, flattening her tongue over the slick mess built between Cerys’ thighs. The sound Cerys makes in response could be reasonably called a shout, if it weren’t so pitchy and breathless, and Ciri grins but doesn’t bother pulling back. When she teases her tongue at Cerys’ entrance, she gets another almost-shout, and when she presses in, the sound turns into a low, warbling little mewl.

Her cock throbs where it’s bobbing in the water, and she imagines the two of them are probably going to sully it enough that a brand new bath is needed, but that’s the only real thought she spares for it.

“Fuck, fuck, please,” Cerys finally gasps, after Ciri has spent a few minutes pressing her tongue just inside the clutch of her entrance and then pulling back out to trace her folds before doing it again.

She hasn’t even really been meaning to tease – she’s just…taken with the taste of Cerys, with feeling her twitch and flutter. Entirely too taken to be paying much attention to the passage of seconds – or to keep moving her fingers, she realizes. The pleas, though, bring her right back, and she hums into Cerys’ heat before she’s pressing closer, rubbing at Cerys’ clit again as she presses her tongue as deep as she can get it.

Cerys squeals, hips jerking, and Ciri reconsiders her original intention to pull back and say something filthy. Instead, she stays right where she is, shifting in her crouch just to relieve some pressure on her ankles, and tongue-fucks Cerys until the she’s starting to shake and babble.

“Fuck, fuck, you – ah, ah – oh gods, Ciri – ”

Whenever Cerys makes a new noise or starts shaking harder, Ciri follows that as if it were explicit directions, until Cerys is no longer babbling, she’s just making scattered noise, entirely breathless. She’s so hard she could use her cock as a hammer, but all she can really focus on is how sweet Cerys’ cunt is, all of the pretty noises and trembling that she’s working out of her with just her hand and tongue. It’s – heady, and hotter than it has any right to be, and so much more than she’d ever even dared dream about, at least consciously.

Cerys can make jokes-that-aren’t about how far Ciri outranks her all she wants, but in Ciri’s opinion, Cerys is so far out of her league that it balances them right back out. She’s fairly certain Cerys would take offense to that, though, and not at all for her own sake, so Ciri fully plans to keep that as a thought to herself.

She’s almost worried, for a split second, when Cerys’ suddenly goes tripwire-taut, but then her mouth is suddenly flooded with slick and she understands. She groans, but doesn’t let up on her ministrations, working Cerys through the peak of the pleasure and out to quivering on the other side.

“Ciri, Ciri, fuck, oh my gods – ”

She doesn’t stop until Cerys fumbles a hand back and catches at her hair. The feeble tapping at her head is, by itself, ineffectual in making her stop, but she doesn’t want this to tip into the bad kind of overstimulation, so she follows the silent direction and pulls back.

She intends to ask something cheeky about if that was good, but before she can manage more than just the breath in, Cerys is leaning up and turning, the hand still sort of limp against Ciri’s head finding its way into her hair just to tug slightly.

“Please get up here and fuck me,” Cerys pants, tugging at her hair again, and Ciri certainly isn’t going to say no.

It’s not the first time she’s experienced the sensation of her dick overtaking her brain, but she thinks it might be the most intense instance of it.

“Yeah, okay,” she murmurs, and lets go of Cerys just long enough to brace on the side of the tub and the ledge so she can lever herself back to standing. She ignores the tingling in her legs – it’s not bad enough she’ll topple, so it doesn’t matter – and instead bends to press along Cerys’ back, one arm slipping around her waist while the other hand goes to her throat. She nudges at Cerys’ jaw with her fingers until she turns properly and Ciri can kiss her again.

She has to take her hand away to reach down and guide her cock, but Cerys barely seems to notice, at least until Ciri is nudging up against her entrance.

“Yes, yes, fuck,” she gasps, head dropping back down as her knuckles go white around the edge of the tub. “Please.”

“I’ve got you,” Ciri murmurs, lips trailing along the curve of Cerys’ throat in absence of her mouth.

It only takes some more minute shifting, using her other hand to steady Cerys’ hips as she guides herself with the one around her cock, and she’s slipping in. They both make high, shocky little sounds, and Ciri bites at Cerys’ shoulder as her hips jerk.

She wants to go slow, to check in, but Cerys is letting go of the edge of the tub to throw her arm back, fingernails digging into Ciri’s hip when her hand finally finds it, and she doesn’t have much choice with the way she’s yanked, unless she wants to send the both of them tumbling over the edge of the tub and onto the floor.

“Fuck me,” Cerys repeats, and Ciri makes a wordless sound of agreement before she’s doing just that.

#Anonymous #celus writes #dead dove #dead dove do not eat #celus trans characters cw

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ms-starflower · 3 years

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Young Survivors — Maribat

It’s almost four am here, I just finished writing this and am just tired enough to actually go through and post it. And this title is the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Anyway. I haven't posted something I wrote in years, but all the Maribat I’ve read recently made me want to write something for it.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to write a 2 part, but if I do it’s definitely going to be Timari and contain a couple of typical Maribat tropes. And a pinch of salt.

Also, disclaimer: I haven't watched Miraculous in years and most of my DC knowlege come from fanfic or tumblr so... sorry not sorry.

Now with a part 2!

Next >

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei Leyton’s oldest memories were of her mother, dolled up in pretty dresses and elegant makeup. In her daughter‘s eyes, Margaret Leyton was the most beautiful woman on earth.

For as long as she could remember, Mei would sit on the bed and watch as her mom would get ready to head to work. She had always loved those moments with her mom.

(How do I look, my little flower,” she said, twirling around Mei with a grin, making her laugh. It was Margaret’s favorite dress, a vintage halter blue dress with white accents and a white bow around the waist.

“Like a princess, mommy! The prettiest princess ever!”

“Oh no, no no no. You are the prettiest princess ever, my little flower.”)

She was four when her mother let her help for the first time, letting her pass along brushes and products. It’s then that she understood what were the purple marks on her mother that she covered with her makeup.

(“Life is not fair to us, my little flower,” she had said when Mei asked about it for the first time. “Being an orphan and pretty little girl in Gotham isn’t safe, and it doesn’t give much choice when it comes to survival.”

Mei didn’t understand then, but it didn’t matter anyway, life would make her understand soon enough.)

When Mei was seven, the GCPD found her mother’s body.

When she didn’t see her that morning, Mei hadn’t been worried; it wasn’t the first time. Mom would be home by noon, she always was. Until that day.

(The investigation wouldn’t get very far, it was just another prostitute of Camellia street, nobody cared about them. They were just there until they weren’t anymore.

Another girl would take her place in a couple of days. It was how those kinds of things worked in Gotham.)

That day was kind of blurry in her memory. She remembers being pulled out of class in the morning, and that the cop that told her about her mother’s death was very rude.

(“Your mom is dead, kid. A lad found her body in a dumpster this morning,” the guy had said as soon as she had sat down in the headmistress’ office. “Do you know who she worked for? Or on what side of the Camellia she stayed?” He had asked, halfheartedly.

Mei had shaken her head, even though she did; you don’t talk to cops in Gotham, mom always says said that it was the easiest way to get yourself killed, for people like them.

“Alright,” he had said, not surprised. “A social worker is going to pick you up in a bit to take you to your new home, kid.”

With that he had walked out of the office, not looking back. As if where she would end up was going to be home.)

She remembers that the social worker from CPS was a brunette with tan skin, and looked really overworked, but had a kind smile.

By the end of the day, she was taken to Elliot's Hall for Children, an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage with more kids than they could realistically care for.

(They don’t care for the children, they just put them there for a while and act as they do. Most children leave after a couple of days, and if they don’t, they get taken anyway.

Some come back with a police escort, some manage to survive in the streets, and nobody talks about the ones that are never seen again.

You don’t work there because you love children, and if you do, you don’t last for very long.)

Mei wasn’t stupid, her mother told her stories about those kinds of places. She came from those kinds of places, and Mei saw how the man in charge here had looked at her when the social worker dropped her off.

She wasn’t going to just stand here and wait for him to sell her back in Camellia street. Or worse, to the Candy Dealers.

Taking with her what she absolutely couldn’t leave behind, Mei made a choice her mother hadn’t been able to and took her chance with the streets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei was a Camellia kid and, as such, took to the streets easier than most newcomers. She had picked up a few tricks from her aunties and her mom, and it helped her to survive out here.

The only (glaring) differences were the absence of her mother, the lack of a permanent roof above her head, and the fact that she had to provide food and money herself now.

(One of her favorite places to pick up wallets was Gotham Academy, where Gotham’s rich send their children. The kids always had money on them, and it’s not like they would miss it.

Though she couldn’t go too many times in a row, not without risking being spotted and remembered.)

She had been on the streets for two months when she met Jason Todd; the boy who would become her family.

She heard him before she saw him, to be honest. It was an awful crashing noise coming from around the corner, and it made her look.

He was running like the devil was after him, and judging by how the cops running behind him were clutching their batons, she wasn’t that far from the truth.

The noises were because of a couple of trash cans the boy had spilled in their way to slow them down.

And he was coming her way.

Against her better judgment, she grabbed his arm when he passed in front of her, and pulled him behind her into her hideout. Quickly getting the plank of wood back in place, she put her hand on his mouth before he could say anything. With the dumpster in the alley, the entry was almost invisible from outside.

They stayed there as they heard the men pass in front of their hiding place, listening as they argued about where the boy could have disappeared before their voices faded completely.

They waited another couple of minutes before he removed the hand she still had on his mouth and crawled out of there.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a scowl. “I woulda’ve been just fine without help but… yeah, anyway.” Then he had started to walk in the direction he came from.

“Hey! Wait!” She said before she could think about it. “Are ya just gonna, like, go? Just like that?”

“Huh, yeah? What do ya want me to do?” He asked, looking back at her from above his shoulder without stopping his walk. “Stay to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather?”

“Well.. no. But I just… I just wanna talk a bit, ya know?” She couldn’t really explain why she didn’t want him to leave yet, it’s not like he was the first street kid she had helped out. He just felt different, and somehow she knew he could become important to her.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before turning his head back to look forward. “The streets are not some daycare for princesses who want to make friends, kid.”

“Kid— hey, dumbass, you’re, like, ten years old! You’re a kid too! And I’m not a princess, I can survive alone just fine!” Before she knew it, she was walking behind him, the weird feeling forgotten for the offence his comment created. He looked back at her with a frown, before choosing to ignore her. Not letting that deter her, she rambled at him about all the ways why she wasn’t a kid any more than him.

“I thought you could survive alone?” He said, talking over her, when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him be.

“I can.”

“So why are ya following me? Tryin’ to drive me crazy?”

“Well, no. It’s just... that I can do it doesn't mean I want to.”

“Look, kid,” he said, ignoring her protest and talking over her, again. “You should just go back to whatever orphanage you came from, there is probably some nice little family who's gonna pick you up. Then you could make all the friends you want.”

“Like people actually adopt kids in this city. This is Gotham, you dummy, not ‘Annie’. Some rich white guy isn’t going to come and pick up children from the streets to make them live the Grand life.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he growled out without pausing in his steps. “Still, you’re pretty enough, I’m sure some nice people would adopt you in a second if you let them.”

“Yeah, sure. Mom thought the same when she was a kid, and guess what? She started working on Camellia street when she was fourteen, but nobody asked her if she wanted to. Because she was pretty enough,” the little seven years old spat with venom, her eyes narrowed. The boy stopped walking, turning toward her with eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “Her best friend wasn’t, but mom said that she had the prettiest green eyes ever. When they found her body, she didn’t have eyes anymore, because some rich person paid to have pretty green eyes.”

“I— I didn’t—” he stuttered, eyes wide. With his scowl gone he looked so much younger, and Mei’s anger subdued. He wasn’t that much older than her, just a couple of years, maybe three or four, after all.

“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s Gotham. I just thought we both would have more chances to survive if we helped each other out. And, ya know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but when they resumed walking he slowed down enough to let her walk beside him without almost-running.

“Great! So, Annie, where are we going now?” She said with a beaming smile, bursting into laughter at his indignation and protest against the nickname.

(“Can’t you stop calling me Annie already?! I told you my name’s Jason!”

“Nope, Annie.”

“Well, then, that makes you Sandy, doesn't it? Ya do follow me around like a stray puppy.”

“I’m not a dog— wait, hold on a minute! I knew you saw the movie! You liar!”)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was ten when her life was put upside down once again, in the worst of ways.

It took practically no time before Jason “Annie” Todd became her brother in all but blood, it took longer for Jason to admit it, and they spend almost three years surviving together, barring the occasional trip back to the Children's Houses.

Though, they always found each other a couple of days after they escaped from those places.

Sometimes, Jason would plan something that he needed to do alone. Because of course, he did.

(“It’s the best job, my plan is perfect. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be great Sandy!”

“Yeah, and why can’t I come?”

“It’s too dangerous! Plus, you need to stay here and keep our things safe!”

“Yeah, if you say so, Annie.”)

That day was one of those days.

He was gone for less than an hour when they found her.

The Candy Dealers.

Mei paled when she saw them, wearing their nice suits and overly sweet smile. They told her they were social workers, specializing in homeless children, and offered her a lollipop. Social workers in Gotham don’t give candy to the kids, even the nice ones, and she knew from her time in Camellia street that the lollipop was drugged.

(“Never, ever, take candy from a Candy Dealer, Mei. Do you understand me? Never,” her mother told her gravely. “They put bad stuff in them, and if you put it in your mouth, they will take you away from me. I couldn’t live without you in my life, my little flower.”)

She tried to run, even before the first one got his hand totally outstretched toward her. But her panic made her stumble, and she was no match for them.

She tried to kick, and scream, and bite, but soon she felt a pinch in her neck, and everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next period of her life was one she tried very hard to forget. For months she was moved, her and dozens of other people, from containers to containers, warehouse to warehouse. Twice they were put in a boat, the containers staying closed for so long, the next time she saw the moonlight, it burned her eyes.

She quickly learned that it was pointless to try to escape (and that Jason wouldn’t come and save her).

Then, one night, the place they were at was illuminated with blue and red lights and the police sirens were so loud, they drowned everything else.

She didn’t let herself hope, though. (She did, she hoped so hard her chest hurt.)

They (probably) weren’t in Gotham anymore, but her childhood didn’t instill her much trust in the police.

They did get them out. And she learned that they were in Paris now. In France. (That was a long way from Gotham.)

There were twenty-seven other people with her in the container. Four of which were kids, and only one other was also an orphan. They weren’t placed together, though. Because the kid had family back where he came from. Unlike her. (She had Jason. He was her family, but they didn’t listen.)

The French social workers took a while to know what to do with her exactly, but they didn’t want to send her back to Gotham (why not? She wanted to go back and find Jason!). So, in the meantime, they placed her in a foster family—one without any other kid, as per her therapist's advice. (The therapist didn’t know anything. She said Gotham wasn’t good for her, but Jason was in Gotham.)

Funnily enough, it ended up being a more permanent solution than previously considered, because the foster parents, Tom and Sabine, quickly fell in love with the little girl.

Not before long, Mei Leyton became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. (They changed her name to give her a ‘new beginning’ because her therapist thought it would be good for her. She didn’t want to have a ‘new beginning', she wanted to go back, to find Jason, to be the Sandy to his Annie. She was Mei, the Camellia’s kid, Sandy, the street’s kid and it was enough for her. She didn’t want to be Marinette, the bakers’ kid.)

So, when Mei was first put into the care of the Dupain-Cheng household, she regularly tried to run away. It was unsurprisingly harder than in Gotham, though. Tom and Sabine were way more attentive than Elliot Hall’s staff ever was, and more than a third of her tentatives were folded even before she was past the front door.

It took her three months (and forty-three unsuccessful tentatives) before she finally accepted that there would be no way for her to go back to Gotham. (Not that she had known how she would manage to do that before, her plan never got that far.) It took another six months before Tom and Sabine trusted her enough to let her wander the neighborhood alone.

The first thing she did the day her ‘new parents’ let her go to the library alone was to get to a public computer, and look Jason up. She didn’t really think she would find anything when she typed Jason Todd and Gotham in Google that day (maybe an obituary). She definitely didn't think she would find her best friend (brother) on the covers of so many tabloids declaring that he was Bruce Wayne’s ward.

She didn’t know how she should feel about the fact that he proved her wrong and became some real-life Annie. She wanted to feel angry, or hurt. Even more so when she realised that Wayne adopted him not even a full week after her (kidnapping) departure from Gotham, but…

But seeing Jason in the pictures… He looked so angry. Angrier than she ever saw him. And hurt. There was hurt hidden in his expression. It was well hidden but she could see it. (She did that, she was the one that hurted him. He probably thought she left him. That she wasn’t any better than his deadbeat of a father and abandoned him. What if he hates her now, because she was gone for so long?)

She needed to go back to Gotham, find him, and explain everything. She needed to tell him she didn’t want to leave him behind, that he was her family, and that it would never change. But Tom and Sabine didn’t want to take her back there, not before she was older, because she wasn’t ready yet, they said.

She didn’t care, though. No matter how long it would take her, she was going to go back. So, she slowly started to act like the perfect little girl. She didn’t really change, she just stopped bringing up Gotham so much, started to help more often in the house and at the bakery, and started to call Tom and Sabine Papa and Maman. (It wasn’t real, at first. But then, they just crawled into her heart against her will and became family. They didn’t replace her Mom or Jason, though. Nobody ever will.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She started to heal. Slowly, without even realising. She opened up to a couple of children at her school, made friends with Nino, and sort of Frenemies (more enemy than friend, though) with Chloé Bourgeois. She picked up hobbies like sewing and designing, baking with Tom, or learning various martial arts with Sabine.

But she didn’t forget, going back to Gotham was still her ultimate goal. Until the news reached her, when she was twelve.

Jason Todd was dead.

Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, her Annie. Dead. Jason was dead.

She felt like a part of her died with him, reading the words but not really processing. She let herself drown in her grief, closing up to everyone around her. Surprisingly, Chloé was the one that made her react. Literally slapping her to make her come back from the dead. (Not entirely, though. Mei, the Gothamite part of her, stayed dead with Jason. Only Marinette, the nice little parisian, came back.)

“I don’t really know what’s up with you, Dupain-Cheng,” she had said while Marinette cradled her sore cheek, her faux-contempt badly hiding her worry. “But you need to put yourself together. Tormenting you is no fun if you don’t react to it, and people are too worried for you to be afraid of me. Don’t make me call daddy on you.”

“I…” She had started, only to stop herself. She had looked back at Nino and Kim, both of whom were looking at her with poorly concealed worry. “Yeah, sorry Chloé.”

She pulled herself out of the worst of it after that, at the obvious relief of the people around her. None of which even knew why she was in this state. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and sometimes felt like someone gouged out her heart with their bare hands, but she also started to let herself think of the good times. Started to let herself feel the good things happening around her, in the present.

Then, she saved the life of an old man, found magic earrings and a bug-mouse-kwami in her room that told her that she needed to become a hero and save Paris.

She thought of her big brother, of how he would always protect her when someone tried to rob them. Hide her, before even thinking of himself, when the cops would chase them down, trying to bring them back to Elliot's Hall. Give her all the food when they couldn’t get enough for the both of them. How he was a hero. Her Hero. And, really, there was only one thing she could say to that.

“Tikki, spots on!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

So. That's it. That was fun. I'm going to sleep now, goodnight.

Btw, Jason's super plan that day was totaly to steal the Batmobile's tires.

#maribat #mlb x dc #gothamite marinette #street kid marinette #platonic jasonette #probably a timari btw #timinette if that's how you call it #4am me decided to post it #2pm me could decide to delete it tho

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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

Text

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 35

(Master post)

(Insert excuse on why it took so long) (Insert comedic joke on why I didn't update sooner) (plea of trying better) (Heartfelt compliment on why all of you are awesome and patient)

Okay so now that we got that out of the way. But in all seriousness. Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy.

If you do enjoy the fic, please Comment and reblog. Reblogs are like Gold on Tumblr and being a writer and posting to Tumblr is difficult. So every little bit helps.

Alright so now lets get to it.

_____________________________________________________________

The nurse heard the commotion going on in the halls. She knew that shortly after Chloé left, things outside the office became… restless. She turned off all the lights and locked the door to the nurse’s office. She did her best to stay quiet and not draw attention to the room. She knew those akuma were out there and she needed to focus on stabilizing her patient.

“I hope that Chloé managed to get that message out.” The nurse whispered to herself.

The woman felt weird pinning her hopes of escaping this place on a spoiled teenager, but at this point, beggars can’t be choosers.

She heard someone approach the door. The nurse felt her blood turn to ice. She refused to move a single inch. She hoped and prayed that the person would go away. She could hear the screams of students outside. She knew the akuma, whoever they were, were out there, and they were taking anyone they could find. Right now, all she could do was pray they don’t check.

“Please… for all that is good… let them leave.” She prayed under her breath.

After what felt like an eternity, she heard the sound of footsteps away from the door and everything returned to eerie silence.

She felt her essence sigh in relief.

She got up from the ground and went to go attend to the unconscious woman in the cot.

“Its strange for someone so young to be so exhausted… but then again, when I get into the line of work I am hoping for, it is likely I will be seeing a lot of cases like this.” Angela joked, trying to keep herself in good spirits. “Society is such a mess.”

Angela checked Nathalie’s pulse. It was present, but it felt off. It was weaker than she was expecting from someone of her age. Perhaps she has a much more serious medical condition. Angela would probably recommend that this woman see a professional when this is all said and done. Though for now, she was stable and calm, which was a very good sign.

The nurse considered that maybe she wasn’t getting an accurate reading, was something off with the assistant’s breathing? She would need to check. The nurse grabbed a stethoscope and moved closer, getting ready to check again.

“Ow!” She yelped as she felt something grab her arm. Nathalie had awaken and she had a firm grip on the woman's wrist.

“What are you doing!?” The surprised assistant exclaimed

“You're awake!? Oh, thank goodness.”

“Awake?”

“Yes, you passed out at a most stressful time. Right now, I recommend we keep our voices down.” The nurse hushed.

‘S***’

Nathalie mentally cursed to herself. She knew it had to be Masquerade. Her little episode resulted in her being far too late to get in and out without issue. She was planning on getting Adrien out of here before things went south.

She got up from the cot she had been laying in.

“Hold on a second.” Angela called out. “You need to stay and rest. I am glad you are conscious. But that sudden fainting spell could be indicative of…”

Nathalie did not have time for this. She gave an ice-cold glare at the nurse.

“If you intend on making me stay here, you will need to do so by force!”

The nurse felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. This woman’s eyes clearly showed intent on fighting. Angela was not a fighter, she helped people, not hurt them.

“You are my patient, and there is a lot of danger outside. You are in no condition to go out there.”

Nathalie had to respect the woman’s guts for standing up to her, despite the nurse’s knees shaking as she maintained eye contact.

“Okay, so how will we deal with the akuma breaking in then.”

“What!”

Angela turned her back to Nathalie, who took full advantage, giving the school nurse a fierce chop to the neck. Causing the nurse to drop like a sack of potatoes.

“Rest up.”

Nathalie put the nurse in the cot that she had previously been resting in.

“Seems I don’t have time to be subtle. Duusu.”

The blue Kwami popped out.

“Nathalie! Do you want to play?”

“Yes Duusu, the game is find Adrien and get out of here.”

“Horray!”

“Duusu! Spread my feathers!”

_____________________________________________________________

“Get down!” Ladybug dived into Chat noir, helping them both avoid the pause symbols and deadly bubbles headed their way. The akuma on both sides of them managed to avoid the incoming attacks they had sent towards the heroes.

“Thanks LB.” Chat noir thanked. “While you are the second person I want to be dancing with. We can't keep dodging forever. Even if their moves are predictable. Maybe those masks are the key to stopping them."

“Hardly a dance, its ettiquette for the boy to lead if it is. And I don't think so. Those masks appear to be unbreakable and impossible to remove” Ladybug said as she pulled her partner quickly back up, both noticing the akuma were ready for more.

“We still haven’t tried cataclysm.” Chat noir comments as he runs and jumps over a trashcan to avoid getting nailed by Bubbler’s attack bubbles.

“Right, but that would leave you exposed. Call it a hunch, but we will need to save it for later.” Ladybug responds as she jumps away and opens a door to block several pause symbols. "Besides, do you want to be mask-less at this Akuma calamity?"

“I was going to say it was more like a Masquerade ball. And no I would not."

Ladybug rolled her eyes at the lame joke, but still had a bit of a smile. Lightening the mood.

"Silly kitty"

"But seriously, we need a plan. If we can’t free them, what can we do?”

Ladybug focused for a moment. She noticed the way they were attacking, it was predictable and slow. Normally the akuma change up their attacks, or at least seem more aware of what the heroes are doing. The akuma were acting a lot more like controlled puppets. Much like when she had to deal with Puppeteer. Seems this akuma had some drawbacks that could be exploited. This was where Ladybug realized there was a way to deal with them.

“We disarm them. Break Bubbler’s wand and I will terminate Lady Wifi’s phone plan. Their reflexes are way more sluggish than usual. My bet is that having so many servants is starting to have a drain on the effectiveness of her forces. We just need to act quick.”

“Alright, sounds good to me.”

“On my mark we charge.”

Ladybug kept an eye on both akuma, after they sent a flurry of attack, they would usually have to take a moment to recharge. Bubbler would need to dip his wand back into his bubble pack and Lady wifi would have her hand cramp after sending 10 swipe symbols and would need to pull her hand back.

“Now!”

Chat noir and Ladybug both pounced at the two akuma, moving fast enough that their foes couldn’t retaliate as the heroes swiped the weapons from their respective wielders.

“Sorry to burst your bubble.” Chat noir joked as he snapped the bubble wand.

“And you’ve reached your data limit for the month.” Ladybug chimed in as she crushed Lady Wifi’s phone.

Both akuma began swinging their fists at the heroes, trying to turn the fight into a bare-knuckle brawl. But Ladybug’s assessment was correct, their attacks were too predictable. Ladybug caught Lady Wifi’s fist and flipped her over her shoulder to the ground.

Chat noir ducked under bubbler’s punch and slipped behind him. The cat used his staff to swipe at the feet of the forward moving akuma and knocked him mask first onto the floor.

“Alright, their disarmed. Now what?”

“Move him over here.”

Chat noir picks up the akuma by his bubble pack and throws him over to ladybug like a curling stone.Ladybug uses her yo-yo to tie the two dazed akuma back to back.

“Let’s put them somewhere where they won’t cause any trouble.”

_____________________________________________________________

“Next!” Masquerade called out in annoyance.

She had gotten her akuma servants to capture as many teachers and students as possible. She had the element of surprise and with the amount of akuma she had at her disposal, it was easy to capture several. Though she figured none would escape and cause panic, Timebreaker was guarding the parameter and kept her informed of any people she ‘Tagged’. Horrificator finished sealing all of the exits so no one would be able to come in or out.

She figured there was a good chance for adding more akuma to her rank. The problem was, most of the akuma sucked. She ended up developing a system for them. If they turned out to have no useful ability, she would humiliate them, have reflekta turn her into replicas of herself and then have Princess Frangrance spray the rejects to turn into obedient servants, this way she had something useful out of them. Make them get snacks or whatever. There were multiple uses for mind-controlled students and teachers. So far, she didn’t find a single one worthy of her time.

“I SAID NEXT!” Masquerade shouted louder.

Masquerade sized up the black-haired girl that one of the Reflekta duplicates had pushed forward. She recognized the shy smile from television. She was one of the weather girls on the KIDZ+ network. That was a contest Lila would have KILLED to have been a part of. She mentally told herself she would have won if she had entered.

“Your Mirelle aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes, please don’t hurt me.” She pleaded.

Masquerade rolled her eyes.

“Let’s, see what the deepest parts of your mind hold.”

“Stop!’

Masquerade stopped to turn to the person that shouted.

“Well, well, well, seems we have both weather girls that go to this school.” Masquerade commented. “What a coincidence.”

Masquerade’s eyes went to the honey blonde weather girl. The akuma had to respect the fierce glare the girl was giving her.

“Aurore don’t.” Mirelle tried to plea.

“Fragrance, shut her up.”

The perfume akuma moved from the wall and sprayed the shy weather girl.”

“No!”

Masquerade felt her bracelet glow, indicating that there was an akuma victim present.”

“So, stormy weather, does this rain on your parade?”

“Don’t call me that!” Aurore spat with disgust.

“That loss still bothers you. How the city voted and you were blown out of the water.”

“I know your trying to get under my skin, it won’t work.” Aurore said. “I’ve dealt with Chloé, and she is way meaner.”

Masquerade kept her smile.

“You’re right, that wouldn’t bother me. The comments by everyone else questioning why you are there would. All of those people wondering what the point of that vote was. So now you have to constantly push harder and harder to prove you deserve to be there with Mirelle. It has become your obsession; the way people perceive you. You need to be the perfect weather girl, with the good looks and the good grades. You can’t let anyone begin to doubt your ability.”

Aurore felt her heart shatter at the comment. It was like this akuma had reached into her chest and pulled her heart out. She could see her biggest fear.

“Shut up! I am good enough! You can’t tell me otherwise.”

Masquerade felt a twinge of annoyance, but a sinister idea came into her head. She touched the perfume bottle charm, her colors shifted to match the color scheme of the Perfume akuma.

“Mirelle, tell her what she needs to here.”

The controlled weather girl felt something intrude in her mind, for a brief second, she winced, before turning into a creepy smile.

“Mirelle?”

Aurore felt her skin crawl as she turned to see her coworker and friend staring at her, a creepy smile on her face.

“You aren’t good enough. You were never good enough. You tried so hard to be charming and cute, but the network thinks your redundant. They were going to get rid of you as soon as they could. I hear they are aiming for the end of the month.” She sing-songed.

Aurore dropped to her knees. Her confidence shattered. She broke down, tears streamed down her face. She covered her hands to cry. To hear her say those awful things, was it true? Was she gone? Was all her work for nothing?

Mirelle’s creepy forced smile stayed, but from the corner of her eye, a single tear began streaming down her cheek. Unbeknown to Aurore, Masquerade was using the controlled teen like a ventriloquist dummy.

“Excellent work.”

Masquerade shifted back to her original colors and grabbed a mask from her dress before she flung it right at the depressed weather girl. She took joy in watching it clamp onto her face like an alien face-hugger. There was a brief moment of struggle, but Aurore was no more. Stormy weather had taken her place. Masquerade laughed as a new charm appeared on her bracelet.

“Finally, some better servants. And these powers are no joke.”

Stormy weather raised her umbrella at Masquerade.

“Oh? Are you trying to resist?”

The akuma’s arm was shaking, but then dropped. Her body becoming inactive, like a toy robot with its batteries removed.

“And there goes the last of your resistance. Now go out and find Ladybug and Chat noir. Lady Wifi and Bubbler haven’t returned.”

Stormy weather nodded and headed out of the classroom.

Masquerade noticed the cowering captured students and took a moment to appreciate the power she wielded. Sure, she would have preferred to have been loved by the school, but being feared is a close second.

Her joy was cut short when something pinged into her mind.

Requirements met for new akuma. Confirm merge?

‘Merge?’

Masquerade tried to figure out what that meant. What was merging.

‘The components for the akuma Oblivio are now available, would you like to merge the two akuma to make new akuma?’

“Oblivio? I don’t remember an akuma by that name?” Masquerade said to herself. “Well, if two people are needed to make it and it is making something new, it must be good. Confirm!”

A new charm appears on her bracelet, one in the shape of a question mark.

"Creating Lady Wifi, Bubbler, Oblivio fusion.'

“I wonder what this will bring.”

_____________________________________________________________

Hawkmoth got felt a sudden shift in the mood of his akuma.

"So Lila found a way to merge akuma with multiple different forms into one. And now she is able to create a completely new akuma. Perhaps Ladybug and Chat noir have finally met there match."

The butterfly villain rubbed his hands smugly as he continued observing. Though part of him wondered if Nathalie was able to secure Adrien safely.

_____________________________________________________________

“Okay, these should work.” Chat noir exclaimed as he opened two empty lockers.

Ladybug removed her yo-yo that had tied the two akuma together and shoved the two of them inside each locker before slamming it shut.

“We need something to lock them in for a while.” Ladybug exclaimed as she held the doors closed. The akuma started trying to break free. Moving in any way they could to bust out.

Chat noir looked around, looking for something to shove in front of the lockers.

“Ugh, there is nothing to barricade them with!” Chat noir exclaims.

“Just seal the doors.”

“Right!”

Chat noir put his hand on the lockers where the doors would open, he focused all his strength into his hands and crunched doors by the lock, making it impossible to open in the conventional way.

“That should hold it.” Chat noir exclaimed with relief.

Ladybug slid down the door as resistance finally ceased.

“I think they realized they can’t escape.” Chat noir eased.

Ladybug got up from the floor. They give each other a fist bump on their success.

“Well thankfully that deals with two troublesome akuma. Now we need to get to Lila before we get overrun with them.”

The two heroes quickly leave the locker room.

"By the way, you mentioned earlier I was the second person you wanted to be dancing with. Who is the first?"

Chat noir felt a faint blush on his cheeks.

"How about we talk dances later." Chat noir dodged the question.

Both heroes hurrying down the hall to try and get to Masquerade.

But after they left, the lockers they had left the akumas in started to shake wildly…

_____________________________________________________________

“Heads up!” Viperion exclaimed as he pulled Ryuuko out of the Akuma’s range. The vanishing miracular was a far more difficult opponent then both reptilian heroes were expecting. The akuma vanishes just before Ryuuko could retaliate.

“Every time we lose sight of her, she vanishes and I can’t get a clean hit!” Ryuuko grumbles.

Viperion looks around frantically.

“Yes, but I do believe we have some interesting intel. The akuma seems unable to use both her powers at the same time. She needs to turn visible in order to try and attack us with those Tonfa of hers” The snake hero explains

Ryuuko backs up, looking around to see if she can notice anything that could help her locate the sneaky servant.

“And whatever its other power is seems to involve using those Tonfa. Call it a hunch but we can’t let her use it on us.” Ryuuko discussed her instinctual feeling.

“Guard my back, she can’t sneak up on us if our backs are covered.” Viperion instructs. “Her strategy is very straight forward. We just need to wait for an opening”

“Got it.” Ryuuko says just as she notices something from the corner of her eye. “There you are.”

Ryuuko makes a charge at what appeared to be a wall, but her sword contacted Miracular’s tonfa. Forcing her visible again.

Viperion took noticed of the poor stance that Miracular had while blocking Ryuuko. He wasn’t an expert but even he could see that an unexpected hit would knock her off her feet.

He threw his lyre right at the akuma’s knees and made contact, the force causing her to buckle and Ryuuko disarmed the akuma by parrying her tonfa.

Viperion caught the weapons and broke them over his knee.

“Well that takes care of her weapons.”

Ryuuko noticed the akuma tried to get away but she dove tackled her before she could turn visable.

“Nice work. But what are we going to do to stop her from getting in the way?” Viperion inquired.

Ryuuko band the akuma's face repeatedly against the floor in order to break the mask. Sadly there was not even a scratch on it.

"Well this mask is durable. Might need to lock her somewhere."

The snake hero thought for a moment. he remembered back to a previous akuma attack. Chat noir had put him in a locker to be safe. He still remembered the playful wink the cat gave.

"Any ideas Viper piper?" Ryuuko inquired as she maintained her hold on the akuma.

"Huh? Oh right. Why not take to the locker room and throw her into a locker. She isn't super strong so we could easily just toss her in and lock it. Also, what is with the nickname?"

"I heard that giving people nicknames helps endear people to you."

"Okay, well you can keep trying, but I don't play pipes. What other ones do you have."

"... That was the only one I had... Ill try and come up with more as we go."

"Looking forward to it ... Dra-girl"

Ryuuko paused to look at him as she stood up with the akuma.

"Yea... It felt wrong as soon as I said it. Lets just go."

_____________________________________________________________

Chloé had given most of the akuma she encountered the slip. Not from expert hiding of fighting skill, she simply walked passed them. A normal individual would realize how amazing it was that as long as you don’t freak out, the akuma basically don’t notice. But to Chloé, it felt insulting. Did the akuma seriously believe she was not worth chasing?

“Un-be-lievable.” Chloé huffed. “Most of these akuma would have been chasing me like crazy by now.”

She grumbled to herself as she made it to the front entrance, which she realized had been slimed on.

“EWW, they got that nasty slime monster on their side.”

The mayor’s daughter felt a mix of disgust and annoyance. With this door sealed, she would need to get to one of the other exits, on the other side of the school.

“This would be a really good time for Ladybug to show up and let me be Queen bee.” Chloé stated aloud.

But the area she was in was practically empty.

“Figures.” Chloé sighed. “Why do these gross rejects always have to make things so annoying!”

Unfortunately for her, her complaints did attract some attention from a group of Reflekta copies roaming the halls.

“We order you to come with us!” The three reflektas sang in unison. Chloé didn’t know or care if the original was among them.

“How about no.” Chloé scoffed. She pushed one of them down and walked past them. The other two rushed to her to capture her. But Chloé easily knocked both of the reflektas down easy. The servants were not use to walking in heels. They may be controlled, but Chloé can tell when an amateur walking in gaudy heels from a mile away.

“You 3 need to learn how to walk and a lesson on fashion before you can even THINK of taking me hostage.” Chloé flipped her hair and smugly continued walking, as the three reflektas tried to get up.

Hidden from view, hiding in what appeared to be an abandoned janitor’s cleaning cart, an old man popped his head out slightly.

“Ladybug does need all the help she could get right now…But would she be the right choice?”

_____________________________________________________________ (End of Part 36.)

What other akuma will be joining Masquerade's ranks?

Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to face the old and new threats?

Will Mayura cause more problems or solve em?

Also, what do you think this new akuma fusion will look like?

I would love to see your takes.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #ml soulmate survey #soulmate survey #ml fic #ml fanfic #miraculous fanfic #ss fic #ml au #slight lukagami #chloé bourgeois #masquerade akuma #fan akuma #drama #action #new akuma #ladynoig #ladybug #chat noir

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

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Fic Rec Bingo!!

So instead of Fic Rec Thursday, I thought I'd do something a little different this week and recommend 25 fics based on this bingo card (although it turned into 26, oops). I kept most of these as CM because that's my blog's focus, but due to the nature of the prompts, there are 5 Marvel (Irondad) ones & 1 Sherlock towards the end!

from @lightveils on twitter, but found posted on tumblr by @cywscross <3

1. A fic with a premise that shouldn't work but does

I never would've thought I'd enjoy a fic with Spencer as a little rebellious shit because it seems so ooc, but I loved this one!

las vegas kid by trashcanbarbie - 1.9k, 1ch, Gen/Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid, Gambling, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Young Spencer Reid, Teenage Rebellion, Protective Aaron hotchner, Pre-Canon, Father-Son Relationship, Teenage Spencer Reid

JJ raises her eyebrows, “so, you're trying to say counting cards isn't cheating?” “No,” he grins, boyish and charming, “it is.”

2. A fic you've reread several times

Discipline Changes by fullofcrazyness - 1.2k, 1ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Comforting Hotch

Jack stopped and looked at his dad, finally seeing that his dad wasn’t actually angry. Concerned and relieved, but not angry. He was about to say something when he saw someone in the doorway, white as a sheet. “Papa?”

3. A comfort fic

i'm always tired, but never of you by @iamrenstark - 2.2k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Hurt Spencer Reid, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad Derek, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Derek Morgan Needs a Hug, Men Crying, Gunshot Wounds, Blood and Injury

When Spencer figured it out, he was stepping out of the elevator on the bottom floor of Quantico, and he went to tell Derek he loved him like he did every day, but he froze up, because he was afraid he wouldn't hear it back. (Or, Spencer thinks his boyfriend is falling out of love with him.)

4. A cathartic fic

Every Little Transgression by @58thacademic - 1.6k, 1ch, Gen, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad Spencer Reid, Protective David Ross, Protective Derek Morgan, Mentioned Suicide Attempt, Spencer's Backstory, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Episode: s03e16 Elephant's Memory

Ok so. Elephants memory was really good because we got Reid backstory. But I'm still annoyed that he didn't defend himself against Hotch. So this was born.

5. A fic you'd print and put on your bookshelf

One Call Away by GhostInTheBAU - 204k, 32ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Dubious Consent, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Domestic Violence, Rape Recovery, Referenced Past Drug Use, PTSD, Hurt Spencer Reid, Protective Aaron Hotchner, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Flashbacks, Healing, Nightmares, Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Eventual Smut

When Reid's boyfriend attacks him, leaving him broken and bleeding, he calls the first person he thinks of for help. He calls the only person he really wants to see. He calls Hotch.

6. A fic you associate with a song

I associate this fic with The First Thing You See by Bruno Major. I think if you listen to the song, you'll easily see why <3

You Make Waking Up Worth It by @guccifloralsuits - 2.1k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Fluff, Minor Angst, Established Relationship, Morning Routines, Hurt/Comfort, Good Things Happen Bingo

“Morning sweetheart,” Derek says, pausing briefly to ruffle his hand gently through Spencer’s hair. The genius nuzzles into the touch but doesn’t reply. It’s too early for conversation, Morgan knows. Pretty boy may get up earlier than he does, but it takes the younger a lot longer to really wake up.

7. A fic that inspires you

This fic could have been in so many categories because I adore it, but I wouldn't have started writing Rain is a Chance to be Touched without this fic so it definitely belongs here.

Forgive Me For All I Could Not Become by @degrassi-fanatic - 105k, 20ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Angst, Case Fic, Confessions, Complicated Relationships, Near Death Experiences, Friends With Benefits, Smut, Miscommunication

In which Reid has always been good at hiding things. He hid his father's departure and his mother's illness from social services. He hid his addiction from his team. He hid his sexuality from the world. He hid his inappropriate feelings from his boss. That is until he's bleeding out in Hotch's arms, in an abandoned church, in Oklahoma. From there on out, Hotch and Reid learn to make a complete mess out of each other.

8. A fic that brought you on board a new ship

Even though it's unrequited, this was the first fic that really had me going !!! at Penemily <3

Another Wide-Eyed Girl by mallfacee - 2k, 1ch, Gen/Derek Morgan & Penelope Garcia, Penelope Garcia/Emily Prentiss (Unrequited), Coming Out, Internalised Homophobia, Derek Morgan is a Good Friend, Friendship, Gunshot Wounds, Episode: s03e08 Lucky

Derek Morgan is handsome and calls her “baby girl” and smiles at her like she’s the only girl in the room. Penelope Garcia knows she should be swooning and all she can think is that there must be something wrong with her not to react to a man like that giving her all this attention. Two years later she meets Emily Prentiss and understands.

9. A fic you wish could be a movie

Listen, I adore the soulmate trope, and an angsty moreid soulmate movie? Fucking sign me up right now

i need you now but i don't know you yet by @iamrenstark - 3.1k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt Derek Morgan, Mutual Pining, Soulmates, Hurt/Comfort, Buford Mention, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Season 5

It goes like this; Spencer hasn't spoken to his soulmate since he was ten, didn't know their gender or their name or a single thing about them. Spencer's soulmate doesn't want him, and that's okay.

10. A fic that led to you making friends with the author

I'm doing two because fuck you that's why

This was one of the first fics I read of Adam's and I immediately fell in love with his writing! And I'm pretty sure that we ended up becoming friends after I rec'd it!!

Plum Sauce by @goldencatchflies - 1.5k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Jealousy, Platonic Morcia, Episode: s07e13 Snake Eyes

Garcia tells Spencer about what she thinks happened between her and Derek. He doesn’t seem too happy about it...

I read this from Syd and absolutely loved it, and like with Adam, we became friends from there! (I mean technically husband and wife, but, y'know. Semantics.)

You Belong With Me by @spencerspecifics - 11.4k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Song Fic, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Fluff

A fluffy Moreid fic based on You Belong With Me by: Taylor Swift

11. A fic you associate with a place

This reminds me of a chilled Sunday afternoon on my old sofa in my living room, with the fire on in the background. I read it all in one sitting and loved every word <3

Metanoia by @makaylajadewrites - 39k, 16ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Canon Typical Violence, Implied Rape/Non-Con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Established Relationship, Near Death Experiences, Frostbite, Rape Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Spencer Reid, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending

Oh, Derek… He couldn’t stand the thought of him bursting in with SWAT in tow, gun at the ready, only to descend those creaky stairs and find his naked, bleeding body, vacated of life, crumbled on a red-stained mattress. The realization that he was going to die at the end of this was catching up to him, but maybe it would be better that way.

In which an unfortunate resemblance to an unsub's victims puts Reid right on his radar.

12. A fic that made you gasp out loud

Gasp out loud might be a *bit* of an overreaction, but this one took me on a rollercoaster and I loved every second of it (all of bau-gremlin's fics will do that to you tbh)

The End by @bau-gremlin - 3.1k, 2ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Graphic Violence, Stabbing, Blood and Injury, Temporary Character Death, Hurt Spencer Reid, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Aaron Hotchner, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Spencer Reid

The famous interview with Chester Hardwick ... except Hotch and Reid get separated and Reid is left alone with Hardwick and a prison-made shiv.

13. A fic you found at the right time

You're Going to be Okay by fullofcrazyness - 2.6k, 1ch, Gen/Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid, Dark, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Sad Spencer Reid, Hurt Spencer Reid, Depression, Protective Aaron Hotchner, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending

Spencer was no stranger to depression. His father leaving him, his mother’s episodes, being twelve years old in a Las Vegas high school. All of those things made him very familiar with the illness. “I… I think I need some help.”

14. A fic that you would read a fic of

Chain Reaction by EloquentDossier - 42k, 16ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Alternate Universe, Texting, Dialogue-Only, Text Fic, Self-Esteem Issues, Fluff, Angst, Implied/Referenced Past Drug Use, Canon Divergence, Pining, Oblivious Aaron Hotchner, Happy Ending

A dialogue-only AU in which Hotch texts what he thinks is Rossi's new number but is actually the slightly eccentric stranger whom Hotch knows only as "Spencer." What follows is something neither man could have ever quite expected.

15. A fic that made you laugh out loud

The Bet by @degrassi-fanatic - 1.6k, 2ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Bets & Wagers, Humour, Fluff, Canon Divergence

“Fifty bucks says Hotch writes you up and sends you to sexual harassment sensitivity training.” she declares as she stares him down. Without looking away from her, Reid takes out his own wallet and flips it open to pull out a fifty dollar before placing it down right next to Prentiss’s own money. “Fifty bucks says Hotch will go out with me.”

16. A fic that gave you butterflies

The healing and dynamics in this one is just.... off the charts :')

Who Spencer Reid Loves by @blueberriesandbubbles - 36k, 11ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Abusive Relationships, Domestic Violence, Abuse, Hurt Spencer Reid, Mutual Pining, Rape Recovery, Healing, Fluff

Derek Morgan has been in love with the resident genius as long as he's known him. When Spencer enters a relationship with a mystery man, Derek is unhappy. He is even more unhappy when he meets this man. Spencer starts acting different and Derek knows something is wrong and he has a feeling its connected to the man Reid is dating.

17. A fic that embodies something you value in life

The utter and total love and devotion in this fic just punches me right in the gut every time I reread it

A Little Fall of Rain by jack_hunter - 4.3k, 2ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Spencer Reid Whump, Autistic Spencer Reid, Major Character Injury, Secret Relationship, Team as Family, Dad Rossi

Morgan crept up behind the doctor and snatched the headphones off of his head, earning a yelp of a protest as he slipped them over his own ears. “Les Mis?” Morgan asked with a quizzical look, “didn’t peg you as the musical type, Pretty Boy.” Spencer snatched the headphones back. “I’ve always loved the theatre and I went to see Les Misérables with-... a friend last Friday.”

18. A favourite AU

The Curious Case of Dr. Reid by severaance - 37k, 10ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Transgender Character, Fluff, Trans Spencer Reid, Light Angst, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Smut, Insecurity, Happy Ending (Warning for Homophobic & Transphobic Slurs)

"And your names for the order, please?" The barista asked, eyes flickering expectantly between the two before her. "Spencer," she answered, although she was not talking to the barista. "I'm Spencer." The man before her had the same idea. "Derek."

19. A fic you stayed up too late to finish reading

I stayed up one night and read pretty much all the marvel fics this author has written, but this was the last one that I simply could not resist. The next day wasn't pretty :/

The more you say, the less I know by forthenightisdarkandfullofterror - 13.9k, 3ch, Gen/Irondad, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Temporary Amnesia, Protective Pepper Potts, Not Endgame Compliant, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Blood and Violence, Hurt Peter Parker, Whump

Tony wakes up from snapping with amnesia and for the life of him can't remember the kid hanging around, claiming to be 'just an intern'. Feelings get hurt.

20. A fic that made you feel seen

heavy in my bones by hopeless_hope - 4.4k, 1ch, Gen/Irondad, Chronic Pain, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Whump, Father-Son Relationship, Dad Tony, Worried Tony Stark, Angst, Chronic Illness, 5+1 Things

Five times Peter lied to someone about his chronic pain, and one time he told the truth and got the help he needed.

21. A fic you love without knowing the source material

(I mean this is literally all marvel fics but I'll rec this one because I loved it so much)

the locker room by searchingforstars - 15.5k, 3ch, Gen/Irondad, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, Arguing, Miscommunication, Crying, Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rape Recovery

Peter's falling apart and he doesn't know how things will ever go back to normal again after Ryder.

22. A fic you've gushed about IRL

Genuinely, this fic is better than most published fiction I've read...

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - 220k, 37ch, Gen/Irondad, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Physical Abuse, Alternate Universe, Hurt Peter Parker, Foster Care, Identity Reveal, Slow Build, Disordered Eating, Homelessness

Ben and May divorced before Peter’s parents died, so when Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves. Simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help. Peter isn’t about to turn down an opportunity to fight alongside Tony Freaking Stark, but he also isn’t going to let his hero know that his recruit is a fifteen-year-old homeless dropout. So they strike a deal. Peter will help Tony. In return, the mask stays on. And that’s when things get complicated.

23. A fic you still remember many years later

The Transport Series by ancientreader - 135k, 2 works, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Backstory, Canon Drug Use, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Physical Disability, AU, Important Character Death, First Time, Developing Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Humour, Fluff

How to become a consulting detective. // Jim's lessons are hard to unlearn.

24. A fic with a line or two that you've memorised by heart

"He has held up buildings and nuclear bombs and whole entire countries on his back. Peter’s body is the heaviest thing he’s ever held."

when my body won't hold me anymore (where will I go) by @madasthesea - 4.4k, 2ch, Gen/Irondad, Temporary Character Death, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt Peter Parker, Crying, Forehead Kisses, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, Hugs, Platonic Cuddling

But he knows. He knows. He can feel it. Peter’s dead. Peter Parker watches as Tony carefully arranges his limbs on a cot. “Mr. Stark,” he tries for the dozenth time. No one hears him.

25. Free Space

And to round it off, we have to celebrate the fic that really and truly welcomed me into the CM fanfic world...

Chanel by @4x24 - 24k, 7ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Getting Together, Spencer Wears Makeup, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Typical VIolence, Humour, Fluffy Ending, Pining, Smut Heavy

Penelope mentions offhandedly one night that she thinks Spencer might look good in makeup. Spencer takes the suggestion to heart. Derek likes the new look - and Spencer - more than he probably should. (Season 4)

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Falling Angels: chapter two

A/n took me longer to get around to writing part 2 than i thought!! i didn’t know there was an audience for this idea but im glad you guys liked it!!

Im adding a country to the grishaverse to make my story work,, def not a big deal i just needed a country in which i could control the history of without worrying about conflicting with cannon lol

Link to part one: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/yesimwriting/652318577650696192 (lmk if this works ive never linked something to a tumblr post lol)

Series Summary: Y/n is a rising star in the most famous circus in Ketterdam because of her ability to see the future. Unfortunately for her, Kaz Brekker knows more of her backstory than he should, and he’s willing to use that to his advantage. The one thing he’s not betting on? That he doesn’t know her entire story

Chapter summary: Y/n gets a visitor before getting tricked into the most dangerous show of her life.

Pairng: SOC x reader, Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! Psychic! Reader

My father seemed to love me more after two glasses of something amber. It was after these two glasses that he would tell me realities his inebriated self believed I needed to internalize. He’d pat my head affectionately and smiled at me as he told me that the world was a bad place. Most of his lessons are lost in my mind, but the one I remember most clearly is that there’s no such thing as a kept secret. There’s always a leak or a flaw or a factor you could not account for. He told me that if I wanted to keep a secret, I would have to decide what I was willing to risk for it.

I know from Seria’s reaction to his presence that listening to Kaz is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take for my secret. “I don’t know what you think I am, but you’re mistaken.” It doesn’t really matter that he believes me. I have the paperwork I need to disprove him. “I have to get to my tent.”

“The princess gets her own tent?” His words are saturated by mock casualness but I can feel his pride on how he delivered that line.

My body is still tense from balancing over flames and his confidence only adds to my desire to unravel. I can’t get angry here. Not at him. Not with the way he grips that cane of his. “I don’t understand what--”

“You may be able to play pretend here where no one wants to look twice at you, but I know what you are.” His stiffness leaves my skin prickling. “I know who you are.”

I swallow back my panic. “Then who am I?”

“You’re that king’s bastard--the one with a high bounty on her head.” Don’t back down. Even the smallest crack will confirm his story. “As long as she’s returned alive.”

Thoughts of what my father would do to me if ever given the chance strike me with more anxiety than his presence does. “I’ve heard of the girl you’re talking about,” I admit, the lie leaving me as easily as the air leaves my lungs when I exhale. “But I’m not her.”

“You’re not from Ketterdam, if you were you would have known who I was after you friend referred to me as Dirtyhands.” I have no defense, but I never claimed to be from Ketterdam. “You make your business claiming to be a psychic.” I am a psychic, but now is not the time to make that argument. “Elkosa is a relatively small and self efficient port kingdom, the island is nothing more than a jagged coastline barely larger than Ketterdam, but I have connections in all places.” He knows someone from Elkosa? I have to fight the instinct to move all of my weight on the balls of my feet, prepared to run. “A captain of the royal fleet told me the story of the night the King’s bastard ran into the meeting room the night before ten ships were meant to sail to Ravka.”

He studies my reaction as I struggle to keep my expression blank. “None of that seems connected.”

“Patience is a virtue most Saints are familiar with.” I roll my eyes. “The bastard couldn’t have been more than nine at the time, but the guards did not want to let her in. The King told them to let her interrupt. The sailor noted this because he had never made an exception to his meeting before. The girl described a nightmare to her father, a nightmare of a storm and ten dead birds. The king did not comfort her, she finished her story by saying that he asked to know about all of her dreams. She went back upstairs and the King continued the meeting as normal but the next day the King cancelled the trip.”

I remember that night as the night I realized that if I’m not careful, I’ll feel what I see in my visions. It felt like I was drowning. I felt the death of each of those men and instead of comforting me, my father nodded once like I had offered him advice and sent me back to my room. “And?” My defense is weak, my mind too lost in the memories of drowning. “Many smaller countries are superstitious.”

“The next day the worst storm to have impacted that ocean occurred. For four nights and three days the storm continued.”

I press my nails into my palms. “You don’t believe that I am precognitive, so that sailor’s unverified story has nothing to do with me.”

“A princess that can see the future disappears at the same time a failing circus hires a girl who has no business in this city who claims to be able to see the future.” He adjusts his stance, taking pressure off the cane as if he’s preparing to need to use it for something else. “I am not fool enough to believe in coincidence.”

“And I am not fool enough to crack beneath the vague threats of a man. In my experience, men always threaten with a blade when really all they’re in possession of is a butter knife. Try to drag me from here kicking and screaming, find a way to incapacitate me and put me on a ship to Elkosa, but when the King sees that you brought him a stranger he will have your head.”

He blinks, expression hard as stone. I tense, preparing for a physical blow. “I didn’t expect you to be a half-decent liar, but I should have.” I bite my tongue to avoid resorting to something I can’t take back. Like begging. “Even if it’s in only half your blood.”

“I am not her.” My stubbornness burns more than the need to survive. I inhale, hoping to shake the grasp of the sensation but it only worsens. The pinch of dread in my chest is heavy and familiar. A vision.

No. Not now--not in front of him. I push against it even though I know that only makes it worse. Not now. Not now. I should be grounding myself but all I can think about is how stupid I am and how bad this situation is.

“I’m not an idiot, I know to be quiet. I see myself crouched somewhere dark.

“Being defensive doesn’t make you any more intelligent.” It takes me a minute to recognize Kaz in the darkness.

We’re somewhere small, our backs against the same wall but our shoulders do not touch. This vision is enshrouded by the feel of panic.

This other me grimaces, but her eyes lack anger, “Remind me why I agreed to help you again?”

“You never told me why,” he admits, “you can change your mind on participating and I can change my mind on whether or not you're more useful than your father’s money.”

Something loud crashes from behind the door we’re both staring at. “You’ll have no use for me or my father’s money if we die here.” I squeeze my hands together.

He hesitates, “My ghost will.”

The future-me almost smiles. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see ghost futures.” I hesitate, something strange behind my eyes. “I wonder if that can exist, if there’s a future beyond endings.”

Future-Kaz is silent for a long second. “There should be,” he says, “for someone like you, at least.”

I watch the way I take in his words. “You’d be there, too,” my voice is low, “your ghost at least.” I turn my head, staring at the door instead of him, “If you weren’t, I’d miss the brooding.”

The vision leaves me with sweaty palms and swirling thoughts. All of my visions do that. Not all of them make me feel so confused. Apparently, he needs help and I agree to do so. At one point we’ll be pushed into a life or death situation and I won’t loathe him.

I blink twice, forcing myself to hold onto the reality in front of me. I don’t have to agree--the future isn’t set in stone. For all I know tomorrow morning I’ll have a vision in which he kills me.

“Are you ignoring me?”

Shaking my head, I turn to face him. “You need help.” I don’t wait for his reaction. “You’re not here to return someone to the King of Elkosa, you’re here because you need someone that can see the future.”

“I--”

“It’s not that you won’t take me to Elkosa, it’s that you’d rather use my abilities for something.”

I’m confusing him again, but that’s okay. I’d rather deal with him confused than angry. “I need to know how a certain business deal of mine is going to be worth what it costs.”

He’s spent the entire time claiming he doesn’t believe in my power. Was that some kind of tactic? In the vision I saw, despite the panic surrounding the situation I didn’t feel panicked around him. The probability of that future occurring is probably low. I’ve been wrong before, the future changes too much for me to know everything.

“That’s not how readings work,” I admit, “I don’t have that much control on them. Most of them come to me randomly. The events I see always involve me or someone I care about to a certain capacity. I can give someone a general glimpse into their future but I can’t promise I’ll see what they want. Sometimes I can see the general vision by just focusing on their energy but usually I need some physical contact for it to work.” That seems like a fair explanation. “Oh--and not all of my predictions come true, most are blurry, few are solid--the future is always moving.”

Wait...the vision I saw where I was with Kaz wasn’t blurry. Those can be wrong, but it’s much rarer. Do I really agree to this?

“Then maybe I should make it involve you.” His aggression has me forcing myself to stand my ground. He can threaten me all he wants but that won’t change things. “Or take the money your father would give me and cut my losses.”

Every time I’ve purposefully destroyed a solid vision, something bad has happened. I’m genuinely considering it. “What do you need a psychic for, anyways?”

“To get through the Fold.”

Despite everything, I laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone get through the Fold, literally or in my visions.”

He’s unphased by my doubt. “It’s happened.”

I really don’t want to help him. “Well then good luck, I’m happy to part ways here.”

I manage one step forward before he moves his cane in front of my path. I’m getting tired of this. “You’re assisting me one way or the other, whether that aid will be financial or through your services is up to you.”

Anger pinches in my stomach the way it often does when I’m told what to do. The one thing centering me is the vision still reflecting in my thoughts. There’s no denying it--I had felt comfortable with him. There is a future in which I feel comfortable with him and I’m not sure I’ll be able to avoid it.

“I won’t get in trouble for you,” I tell him, “The Ringmaster holds onto those indentured to him, especially the commodities that bring him profit.”

There’s something stiff about his silence. I wonder if he’s always like this, pushing the weight of his presence onto those around him without saying a word. “When I have a goal, it is achieved. I’ll speak to him.”

I cannot imagine a conversation I want to be involved in less. The Ringmaster and this man that Seria had labeled ‘Dirtyhands’. “I just had a vision--I saw your entire conversation and it ends with you missing an arm.” His stoic expression does not shift. “Okay, I’m aware that it wasn’t the funniest joke, but throw me a bone--you threatened to kidnap me and sell me to my father in order to extort me and I’ve been nothing but polite to you.”

He’s quiet for a moment, something in his expression changing in a way I can’t read. “All you’ve done is lie since the moment you started to speak to me.”

The optimist in me would like to think that his annoyance counts for banter. I shrug, feeling a little lighter than I did a second ago. I’m certainly not comfortable but I’m starting to see how to put up with the tension without letting it strain me. “Well, polite for my standards.”

I let him brood. “You must have done well as a royal.”

My past cuts through the peace I managed to grab onto. It’s not his fault, he has no way of knowing what the castle was like for me. I open my mouth, but I don’t know what I’m going to say. “I had my moments,” I finally settle on, hoping the echo of pain isn’t visible behind my eyes.

I guess it doesn’t matter if he sees me bleed. He’s heartless, and I hate sympathy.

“Y/n,” Seria’s voice is genuine anger, “You’ve turned into an idiot--first the tightrope walk and now entertaining whatever deal he’s trying to coax from you.” I love Seria, she’s the reason I didn’t die in the street when I first arrived in Ketterdam, but she sees me as a mindless child. “Whatever he told you, whatever he promised you--it’s a lie.”

“He hasn’t promised me anything.” I need to calm her down. Once she’s calm, everything will be normal again. “And he knows.” I don’t have to turn to feel the way Seria gapes at me. “He knows who I am, so I have to do what he wants.”

“You never have to do anything a man is forcing onto you, y/n. We’ll find a way--”

“Seria, it’s fine,” I reach to touch her arm, “I’ll be fine, you can’t protect me from everything and you don’t have to.”

Kaz throws a pointed glare at the man who was with him earlier. When did the stranger get here? “Boss, she’s faster than she looked, but I have what we need to get the girl--”

“You’re late,” Kaz sighs, bored, “she’s agreed.”

Wait--what was he going to do if I didn’t agree? “Out of curiosity, what are you talking about?” The man blinks twice, squeezing a rag between his ring-clad fingers. “You were going to use chloroform to kidnap me, weren’t you?”

For some reason I don’t understand, the stranger gives me a look that’s a cross between sheepish and charming. “Nothing personal.”

“Or original.”

Seria pinches my arm. “Y/n,” she scolds, “your sense of humor is going to kill me one of these days.”

I cringe, pulling my arm away. “When I met you, you were pickpocketing in the pleasure district, please remember that.”

She rolls her eyes. “An attitude like that is going to leave you without a place to sleep at night.”

I take her comment for the empty threat it is. Every other day she’s threatening to kick me out of her private trailer so that I’m forced to fight for cots or speak to the Ringmaster about my lodging arrangements. He’d give me what I want, but speaking to him feels so slimy I’d sleep in the woods before trying it.

“Kaz.” I turn my head in time to see the girl that gave me the advice about the tightrope walker. “We need to go, he’s coming soon--you’ll do better to speak to him in the morning after she’s gone, that way he has nothing to hold over your head.”

“Once I’m gone?” The girl had called me a Saint. I can appeal to her. “I’m not--I’m not going anywhere, I said I’d help.”

Her eyes widen, sympathy reflected clearly in her dark irises. “There was never a version of this in which you ended up staying here.” I hear a hint of apology in her voice. “You won’t believe me, but I promise this will be better for you.” All of her pity is gone with those, replaced by something hard.

Seria responds for me, “I think you should go.”

“What?”

She almost smiles, but her eyes are painfully sad. “I never wanted you to be here forever. I don’t trust these people, but I trust their ability to get you out of here, even if only for a little while. Bad things are coming, and I think you’ll miss the worst of it if you go now.”

What she alludes to is a blade in my heart. “You want me to leave you here to deal with it?”

“Y/n, I’ve been hurt here more times than I can count--”

“No, I won’t leave y--”

Seria squeezes my shoulder, “It’s not forever.” When she wants something, it’s almost impossible to get around it. “Besides, if I need you, you’ll see it.”

My world feels to have lost the vibrance of color. I’ve left so much, but I let myself believe I wouldn’t leave her. I pull her into the hug. “The moment I see a vision of you in any type of danger, I’m coming back.” I hug her even tighter when she tries to pull away so that I can whisper something in her ear, “I’ll use this opportunity to leave the Ringmaster and then I’ll get you out, and together we’ll leave Ketterdam. We’ll find your child, like you always wanted to and they’ll know that they're lucky because they’re the only kid in the world to have you as a mother.”

She squeezes me so tightly I find it hard to take full breaths. “Two,” Seria whispers, “I have two children.”

My eyes burn as her words find their way into my heart. “I love you, Seria.”

“I love you too, my star,” she pulls away enough so that I can look her in the eye, “you don’t like being called a Saint, but I can’t think of anyone more deserving of the title.”

Tears prick my eyes as she releases me. “I’ll find you.”

“He’ll be coming soon,” the girl warns, “He spoke to an advisor about wanting to find you after the show.”

No doubt to praise the fire stunt he forced onto me. Bastard. I nod once but I don’t move. I can’t bring myself to leave Seria until the girl places a hand on my elbow.

Falling Angels Taglist: @glowstick-lesbian @cashlum @whatiswrongwithpeople @pass-me-jeez-it @thecraziestcrayon

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tarithenurse · 3 years

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Spark - 25

Fandom: Enn Enn no Shōbōtai / Fire Force. Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader. Content: Angst, feels, danger, stubbornness. The usual. A/N: Manage to get myself pretty confused because it said I’d already posted 25 chapters on AO3 but here on Tumblr it only claimed 24...aaaand then I remembered posting the what-if directly in the story there but not here...so yeah! Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3

25. Forged by fire

... Reader ...

Your brain is protesting as you wake up. No, scratch that. Your entire body is throbbing as you’re being jostled by each step of the one carrying. Benimaru. The scent and heat can only be his but it’s comforting to open the eyes and see the shock of dark hair flopping about, occasionally blocking the view of his right cheek bone. Somehow, probably with the help of Joker, you’ve been tied together, allowing your arms to hang limply over his shoulders while he supports your by wrapping his arms around your thighs. It’s not comfortable but it’s efficient.

“Wait,” Joker hisses from up ahead.

There’s very little light – barely enough to illuminate the obstacles littering the crumbled hallway – and you can’t see what has alerted the gangly man, but you feel the uncrowned king of Asakusa tense beneath you, his lungs slowly expanding as he takes in the surroundings.

“Hm. I smell it.”

Smell? Sniffing the air, you don’t pick up on anything much at first apart from Benimaru, dust; and your own need for a bath.

“Don’t worry, [Y/N], just stay calm.” He must have felt you stirring.

Nothing snappy comes to mind and it doesn’t matter because that’s when you realize that a curl of sulphurous stench is mingling with the air.

“Let me down.”

“You can’t stand on that leg,” he argues as Joker steps closer.

Already fumbling with the sash holding the two of you together, the idea of supporting the weight seems like a horrible idea. “It wasn’t an invitation to a discussion, Beni,” you growl, “I’ll hold you back if you carry me.”

“I’m not leaving you behind!” Stubbornly digging the fingers into your thighs, he’s probably stubborn enough to stick to the word.

Finally free of the restraints, you tug at his hair. “I’m only telling you to put me down for now.”

There are whispers now, low murmuring groans coming from both directions as if carried on the fumes. The lightest dust and ashes are starting to dance on the ground in spiralling patterns that clash and divide in mesmerizing patterns. They could have been fascinating to watch if it wasn’t for the temperature slowly rising.

“Do as she says, Shinmon,” Joker drawls, his eye fixed at a warm glow that has appeared in the distance.

Begrudgingly, the man sets you on the ground, careful to let you gain the balance on your good leg before letting go. It’s obvious on his face: one wrong move and he’ll sweep you off your feet. I’m so gonna use this to my benefit once we’re home. You decide to ignore the nagging sense of doubt and instead focus on the growing lights in either direction of the tunnel.

What at first was nothing more than a glow has now, beyond a doubt, taken shape of several flickering fires moving towards the same cluster of targets. Misshapen bodies cast their stretching shadows beneath the flames, obscuring dozens of shuffling feet as the pace begins to pick up. They know you’re there. They are hungry.

Glancing at the men, the darkness before them is illuminated in red and purple and the air around them is shimmering with heat.

“Let them get close.”

“Guess you’re too exhausted to think clearly, dear,” Joker chuckles but then hesitates as he sees your face, “...okay. Call it.”

... Joker ...

Smiling behind the collar, Joker recognizes the worry flashing across the other man’s face. It’s a bold plan and he isn’t sure it’s strictly necessary...but they can’t be sure what else they’ll be facing on their way out, so [Y/N]’s idea of preserving the would-be rescuers’ power for later makes sense.

“Lighten up...or not, actually,” he smiles wickedly at Shinmon, “let’s see what our girl can do, eh?”

The glare he receives from the captain is a logical response.

“[Y/N]...there’s no reason to push yourse-”

“I didn’t survive this shit just to be rescued like some fairy tale maiden.” The threatening purr combined with the half-dried blood makes her seem tantalizingly dangerous. “There’s no one to take out my revenge on, but at least I can clean up the mess I’ve made when I let the lab blow up too.”

Oh? That must be an interesting story...for later. Finding an adequate slab of broken concrete, he brushes it off and sits down. In one of the inner pockets of the coat is a pack wrapped in cellophane and he picks a cigarette from it, lighting it with a flick of his fingers. Aaah. The acrid taste fills him for a handful of seconds before it’s blown out through his nostrils together with the last hours’ worth of stress – he could almost chill for a moment if it wasn’t for Benimaru joining him by the boulder, sitting as relaxed as a statue about to crack.

“Has anyone ever told you t-”

“Shut up, Joker.”

The men relapse into silence. It’s not that the man with the hat doesn’t understand Benimaru’s sentiment: the girl’s in horrible condition and is using almost all her strength to stand, it seems. The white-clad ran from her. The image of a dying man clutching a bundle of hastily written notes is still clear in Joker’s mind. Abandoned a comrade together with a demon infernal...he didn’t think they could end it. It’s clear, though, that something did put it to rest, most likely causing the explosion at the same time. Show us what you’ve got, [Y/N).

... Benimaru ...

Like lit matches, only their heads are burning as they rush forward. At first surging for whomever is nearest until a clear shout orders them to ignore the men.

“I am what you want!”

The way the infernals all zero in on [Y/N] it really looks like she’s right and as they swarm around, pushing closer but never able to touch her, he can barely see her until he stand up on the slab of concrete.

Eye glowing bright yellow even against the infernals’ blaze, she doesn’t flinch as charred fingers scrape against the air, trying to reach her. She stands, immovable, talking calmly as if they could understand her. Maybe they can. Yes, they absolutely can and some must be accepting what she says because they stop and wait without a sound. Wait for what? A few infernals continue their struggle only to be wrapped in the arms of those standing by until finally, none of them are moving more than their dead faces.

There’s a shift in the air as [Y/N] spreads her arms, smoke and heat pushed outwards by an unseen pressure and stilling the flames of the damned.

“I’m sorry,” the woman whispers a second before tugging her fists tightly to the chest and plunging the Nether in darkness once more.

Benimaru can hear the muted sounds of clothing landing in heaps on the ground, the impact softened by dust and ashes, but the room is obscured by dark flakes filling the air to the extend that the glow from Joker’s cigarette nor the captain’s excellent vision can guarantee a view of the woman they came here for.

“Impressive,” the smoking man comments, snapping a fiery playing card out of nowhere to illuminate the space.

No one is listening to the compliment. The captain of Special Fire Force Company Seven is reaching out for the swaying figure of the woman he loves, barely making it over the heap of sooty jumpsuits in time to catch her as she collapses one more time.

“[Y/N]!” he croaks, frantically feeling for a pulse.

Eyelashes flutter for a brief second before she scrunches her face to look up at him. “Yeah yeah...I’ll let you carry me this time too.”

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the-modernmary · 3 years

Text

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (prologue)

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you'd probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.

Warnings: Age gap (15-ish years), smut, degradation, unprotected sex. This story is 18+ older. This is not a story for minors.

A/N: Hello, hello!! I figured that since I've made a writing tumblr, I should post my story on here!! This is a multichapter story, so I am very excited to go on this journey with y'all!! I already have multiple chapters written and published, so these should be coming out VERY quickly. If you don't want to wait to catch up, you can read everything I have on ao3! This chapter starts as a flashback, and then the next chapter and the rest from here on out will be actual plot!

masterlist || read on ao3

“If you were waitin’ on the sunshine, blue sky

Cheap high, lullaby

Then my best habit’s letting you down”

- The Maine, “My Best Habit”

Two years earlier

Your eyes scanned the University Ballroom, your champagne glass practically ignored in your hand. You hated all these alumni networking galas and avoided going to them as much as possible. Old, sleazy lawyers with much younger women on their arm reliving their best cases with each other and expecting all the new law students to laugh when they were able to get their defendant acquitted because of some dumb technicality. It made you sick.

It didn’t help that you were already going in with a bad attitude. Your ex-boyfriend had dropped by your apartment that morning to pick up the rest of his stuff, and he decided that the best person to help him with that was the girl he had been cheating on you with. You caught them together three weeks ago, and you had been so stressed from midterms that you hadn’t even had the chance to go out, get drunk, and have wildly irresponsible rebound sex.

But you had to suck it up for the night, at least until you were able to get the answer you came for. After that, you could go back to your apartment, replace your too tight and too short dress with some nice pajamas, and watch trashy reality TV until you passed out on your couch.

You scanned the room a few more times until you caught sight of a tall man in a dark suit leaning against the bar. Bingo. You set your champagne flute down and ran over to him as fast as your heels could take you. Once you were just a few steps away, you quickly composed yourself and walked straight into his line of sight.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rarely came to alumni events here at George Washington Law School, citing that he wasn’t even a prosecutor anymore and had much more important work to do back at the BAU, but he was going as favor to his old law school buddy. Plus, it was either coming to this or going out to the bar with the team, and seeing as he had just signed the divorce papers with Haley, he wanted to be somewhere he wasn’t going to be profiled all night. The free champagne was also a bonus.

When you saw that his name was on the RSVP list, you knew that you had to go.

“Agent Hotchner?” you asked, giving him your best straight A student smile.

He refused to look up right away, not giving you the chance to charm him. “I’m not currently on duty. If there is a case you would like the BAU to look over, that’s handled by our media liaison,” he said absently, taking another sip of champagne.

You frowned but kept your hand out for him to shake. “That’s not what I’m here for, I-” You took a breath to compose yourself. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a first year here- getting a joint JD and masters in forensic psychology. My goal is to become a prosecutor,” you pressed, and you were rewarded when he perked up in interest. He slid his drink on the table.

“Most law firms don’t usually want a prosecutor who’s going to empathize with the person you’re prosecuting,” he mused, and shook your hand, his grip just tight enough to pass as faux politeness.

You shook your head and clasped your hands behind your back, trying to ignore how warm his hands were. “I think the best prosecutors empathize with the defendants,” you admitted. “Isn’t that how you succeeded as both a prosecutor and as a federal agent? That’s actually why I came to you, I wanted to ask you a question... about my thesis,” you added quickly, figuring that the best way to get him to talk to you.

Aaron’s posture changed from half asleep to maybe listening, and your face went red. Sure, you only came to the event to talk to him, but you never thought that you’d actually get Aaron Hotchner to pay attention to you. “I didn’t empathize with the people I was putting in jail,” he told you, his voice ice cold. “That didn’t come until I worked in the BAU, and even now, I wouldn’t call it empathy. Just understanding of how they became the type of person they are.” He leaned sideways on the bar counter and you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. You shifted slightly and felt the hem of your dress move up your thighs ever so slightly. Aaron noticed too, if the lick of his lips was anything to go by.

You took his silence as your signal to ask your question. “You offered Jessica Michaelson a lesser sentence that had her released in just three years despite the fact that she murdered her brother in cold blood in his sleep. You had the evidence, why didn’t you push for premeditation?” you asked, and his eyebrow quirked upwards. “In the case The People vs. Michaelson,” you added unnecessarily, trying to break the silence.

“I know the case you’re referring to. I was the lead on it,” he reminded you, his voice edging on dangerous. “You know, most people aren’t interested in my days as a lawyer.”

You shrugged, hoping to appear more confident than you felt. “I’m not most people,” you agreed, biting down on your lower lip. His gaze was so intense, and it was affecting you in ways you couldn’t have imagined. It was turning you on, you realized with a start. It had been a while since you had last had sex, and it was driving you only slightly crazy. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Aaron grabbed a champagne flute from a server walking by, and shoved it in your direction. You grabbed it cautiously. “Did you read the police report on the case?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of the champagne. The alcohol was making you bolder, and you stepped towards him. “Then you’ll know that there was very little physical evidence tying her to the muder. We chose to offer the charge that would have stuck instead of risking her being found not guilty.”

You gritted your teeth together in an effort to calm yourself down. “She murdered four people within the six months after she was released from prison,” you reminded him.

That seemed to have struck a chord with Aaron, and his steely persona seemed to fade ever so slightly. He sighed exasperatedly; you were obviously getting on his nerves. “The prints and DNA that were collected and put into VICAP when she was in prison are what got her caught in the end, and that was the evidence needed to lock her away for life. We wouldn’t have gotten those prints without her original charge. It all worked out.”

You groaned and threw your hands in the air. “You couldn’t have predicted that, though,” you argued. “And people have been found guilty with way less evidence than you had in the original case. I think you just felt bad for her, considering her brother was a real piece of shit.” You were being difficult now, you knew that. But there was something about Aaron Hotcher that was pulling you in, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.

Aaron gave you a predatory grin and he stepped towards you ever so slightly, finishing his drink. He must have had multiple drinks too, judging by the soft flush on his face. “Oh, you do?” He seemed amused now. He slowly raked his eyes from your face, down your neck, and down the rest of your body, and you forgot how to breath. You knew that it was inappropriate and that he was a highly respected FBI agent, even if he was kind of an asshole at the moment. You also knew that the two of you were crossing lines that neither of you should have even been close to, but you shivered under the weight of his gaze all the same.

You shifted back and forth, your brain trying to process what was happening. “Yeah, I do. And I know that you transferred to the FBI after Michaelson was arrested again, which makes me think that this case was your breaking point,” you ranted, your hands becoming more and more animated.

Aaron chuckled, but there was very little amusement behind it. “Are you sure you want to be a lawyer?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Because you’re starting to talk like a profiler.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “No thanks,” you said firmly, and he just shrugged before making a move to walk past you. You sidestepped in front of him, effectively blocking him from going anywhere. But it was obvious that he was done talking about this.

In your mind, you had two options now. You could keep pushing him about a case that he obviously didn’t want to talk to you about, or you could switch gears in your brain and have him help you solve your... other problem. Aaron was attractive, and you were getting tired of guys your age. You noticed the distinct lack of a wedding ring on his finger, but there was still a tan to show that it had been there. So either he was recently separated or just trying to cheat on his wife. You wanted to not care whichever it was, but a pang in your heart told you to be considerate. Besides, you did not want to get involved with another cheater.

“Must be hard to be at these events without your wife here to scare off all the lonely female law students,” you mused cautiously. You didn’t want to come on too strong, but the alcohol in your system was slowly clouding your ability to be subtle.

Aaron cleared his throat, obviously taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “I’m not married,” he said, too quickly and too defensively. So he’s separated, you thought, and you stepped closer to him.

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out your endgame. “Well, I would love to discuss your work as a prosecutor more when there are less… distractions around,” you whispered, your words breathy. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, do I make you nervous?” You sounded a lot more confident than you felt.

Aaron just smirked and grabbed your free hand, covering it in both of his, and the action was surprisingly soft, even if it was way too late for him to try acting suave. His eyes, on the other hand, told a whole other story. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were practically black. “I face the worst people in society on a daily basis. Desperate law students don’t make me nervous. In fact…” He stepped towards you, looking around to make sure nobody else was looking. Aaron leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with every word. “I think that I make you nervous. And more than nervous, I make you very excited.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled back, a smug smile gracing his lips. You yanked your hand back to preserve what little dignity you had left, but it was too late. “Now, if you would like to discuss my prosecuting career more in depth, then you can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU,” he continued, obviously proud of himself and the effect he was having on you. He pulled out a business card and upon further instruction, you realized that it wasn’t even his. Jennifer Jareu the name read. “Our media liaison will be able to help you organize that. Now if you don’t mind, I am going to retire for the night.”

Aaron finished the rest of his drink and brushed past you while you were still trying to get your thoughts under control. “Oh, and you’ll make a wonderful lawyer someday, I’m sure of it,” he called over his shoulder, and that snapped you back into action.

You followed, running around him and cutting him off. “And if I don’t want to discuss your prosecuting career?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “What if I was interested in a… less formal meeting?”

That was all the permission he needed. Aaron grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the ballroom, the two of you moving so fast that nobody in the room even had a chance to put two and two together. There was an empty hallway just next to the entrance of the room and Aaron pulled you in that direction, pressing you against the wall and kissing you fiercely the second the two of you were alone.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss, but in a strange role reversal, he let you take the lead. It’s certainly not what you expected from Aaron Hotchner who, until now, had been controlling every aspect of your meeting. You realized then that this was his way of making sure you were okay with what was happening- giving you a chance to back out and change your mind. You just answered by tangling your hands in his hair, pulling so that he was at just the right angle to kiss you.

Aaron dug his fingers into your hips, hard enough to make you gasp out. You were definitely going to have bruises the next day, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. He shoved his leg in between yours and tugged on your lip with his teeth, which made you whimper involuntarily. He smirked against your lips, obviously proud of the noises he was drawing from you. You pulled on his hair harder as a sign of irritation, but that seemed to only make him more amused as he pulled away to laugh into your neck.

“Are we just going to make out against a wall like we’re back in high school, or are you going to actually do something worth my time?” you breathe, fighting to keep your voice even and light. It only halfway worked as he dragged his tongue up your neck to your pulse point. And then he bit down, hard.

It took everything in your power to stay quiet, especially as he softly kissed the newly forming bruise. His attack on your neck was relentless as he pulled your hips and back forth against his thigh. You whimpered as you desperately tried to get any friction from the simple movement. Your skirt was now dangerously close to being pushed so far up your legs that you would be completely exposed.

You pulled away first- you had to or your legs were going to completely give out from under you. You desperately tried to get your breathing under control and, to your annoyance, he looked perfectly composed. The only thing giving him away was his slightly swollen lips.

His fingers trailed up your thigh, getting so close to where you want him. “What would you like me to do then?” he asked easily, his voice almost sounding bored. You were speechless, like your brain had just short circuited. There were a lot of things you wanted him to do, but the words were lost on the tip of your tongue. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.” That was a demand, and he punctuated it by pressing his thigh further into you. You were sure he was going to have a wet spot on his slacks. He took the hand not in between your legs and grabbed your jaw forcefully, his thumb resting on your bottom lip. “Use your words, little girl.”

You realize that the two of you were standing on the edge of a cliff, and you had the power to decide whether or not to jump over. It gave you a strange sense of power. Logically, you knew it was a bad idea. He was too old for you, obviously going through some sort of relationship trauma, and wasn’t somebody you could talk to your friends and family about. But the less rational side wanted him so badly it hurt. You wanted him more than you’ve wanted anything or anyone in a long time.

You noticed your strawberry colored lipstick was smudged ever so slightly on the corner of his mouth, and that’s all it took for you to jump off the side of the cliff. “I want you to drag me into the empty classroom just down the hall and fuck me senseless. I want you to use me,” you moan before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking.

The look on his face is something you’ll never forget. There was a mix of shock and arousal, but also something primitive; His eyes darkened when you told him to use you, and there was a fluttering in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or dread. Maybe even both.

He removed his hands from your mouth and legs, only to place his hand on the small of your back. He began walking towards the classroom you had pointed out, much too slow for your liking, but he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re going to regret asking me to use you,” he practically growls in your ear, each word increasing your arousal. “Are you one of those lonely female law students you warned me about? So desperate and needy for a real man to bend you over a table and fuck you until you can’t walk straight? Ready and willing to whore yourself out for the first man who gives you a second glance?”

Your breath hitched as you stuttered out your answer. “Y-yes, Agent Hotchner,” you whispered as he opened the classroom door and guided you in.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, he was back on your lips again, lifting you so that you were sitting on one of the desks with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Call me Aaron,” he mumbled in between kisses, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You were a moaning mess at this point as his hands pushed your dress up to your waist. His hands and lips were somehow everywhere at once and you were so hot and all you could think about was getting your damn dress off, but Aaron seemed to have other plans.

He ran his fingers up your lace covered slit and he just chuckled into your lips. “You’re so wet for me, already,” he groaned and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. “And I’ve barely touched you. Do my words really have that much effect on you? Do you like it when I call you a whore?”

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and quickly pulled them down. You could feel his bulge pressing against you and all you could think about was how badly you wanted it. How badly you wanted him. Your hands moved down his chest to make quick work of his belt, and his pants followed after.

“Please, please Aaron,” you begged, desperately trying to create some friction against him. His fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled your head back so that you were looking at him.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” His fingers slowly ran up your slit, not enough to give you any pleasure. He was teasing you and enjoying every second of it. “And I wish I could take my time with you. The things I want to do to you…” Two of his fingers entered you and you cried out loudly. “But somebody could walk in on us at any second. I’m sure they can all hear you moaning like a dirty whore, all for me. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? So desperate for my attention and approval.”

His words turned you on more than you would have liked to admit. “Yes, Aaron yes. Please-” you were cut off by Aaron curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made you want to scream out in pleasure. But all too soon, they were gone.

He inspected his fingers, which were now covered in your juices, before bringing them to your mouth. “Suck,” he ordered, and you eagerly complied, wrapping your lips around his fingers and moaning at the taste of yourself. “I’ll just have to fuck you quickly here, and then you’ll be begging for more next time,” he groaned and finally- finally- entered you.

He didn’t give you time to adjust to him, thrusting roughly into you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brought his hand to your neck. He didn’t put any pressure, but he wanted you to know that he could and would if you decided to get mouthy with him.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk you were sitting on, your knuckles turning white. Your eyes started to close in pleasure as his hips slammed into yours, but they shot open as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Look at me. I want to see you when you cum,” he ordered, and you nodded the best you could.

“Yes sir!” you cried out, unsure of what else to say.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Aaron released your throat and moved his hand down so that he was stimulating your clit. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as your legs started to twitch. Aaron took this as motivation to slam into you even harder, relishing each time you gasped out his name.

His pace was unforgiving, leaving you gasping for air. Keeping your eyes open was a challenge, but you were able to do it with his soft mutters of praise. “Even brats like you can be good girls,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. “You just need somebody to fuck it into you.”

You were unable to respond coherently, so you just settled on begging even more, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. Aaron seemed to know, and he sped up his fingers against your clit. You wanted to scream out for him, but your voice wasn’t working. “What did I say before?” he asks roughly. “If you want something, ask for it.”

“Please… please can I cum?” you cried out, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. “Please let me cum around your cock!”

He nodded in approval and you had to muffle yourself in his neck to keep quiet. He fucked you through your orgasm, the overstimulation almost too much, but it wasn’t long before he was moaning your name, and you felt him fill you.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, both breathing heavily as the situation started to sink in. You just let a guy almost 15 years older than you that you just met fuck you in an empty classroom, and you really enjoyed it. Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he was going through a full crisis.

He pulled out of you slowly, and you winced at the feeling. He pulled up his pants quickly. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the empty classroom. “I don’t have anything good to clean you up with.” A box of kleenex caught his eye and he grabbed a few tissues. It was better than nothing.

You chuckled nervously and waved it off. “It’s fine,” you promised, your voice coming out shakier than you expected, but he ignored you. He wiped the mess dripping down your thighs. You were cold. He must have noticed, because he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked softly, and it was a full 180 from the way he had just been talking to you.

“I’m great,” you admitted honestly. “Seriously, that was… great.”

Aaron smiled at you- the first real smile he had given you all night. “It wasn’t too much?” he confirmed, and you suddenly remembered what he had said to you earlier. ...then you’ll be begging for more next time. Was he planning on a next time? You wouldn’t have minded it.

You shook your head and slowly slid off the table. You took one of the tissues and wiped up the mess that was left on the table. “Not at all. In fact, I could take more. Next time.” Your voice was light and airy. Aaron watched as you picked your underwear off the floor. There was no way you were putting those back on, not when you had no idea when the floor was last cleaned.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he teased, eyeing you carefully.

“Well I can’t keep it if I only have your media liaison’s number,” you reminded him, your eyebrow raised. Aaron chuckled and pulled out another business card, except this time it was his. You plucked the card out of his hands and inspected it carefully. “I’ll call you sometime. You can do all those other things we didn’t have time to do.” You were on your tiptoes now, whispering in his ear. “You know… my mouth can do a lot more than just ask for things.” As you spoke, you slipped your panties into his back pocket. You just laughed as you heard a soft gasp escape his lips.

You made your way towards the door, your legs wobbling dangerously underneath you. You were sure that you looked like a mess, but you didn’t care. All that mattered to you was Aaron Hotchner’s eyes glued to your ass. “Get home safe,” he told you and you let yourself smile. Maybe it was a bad idea to start sleeping with a recent divorcee, but the sex was great and you both knew where you stood with the other person. No feelings, just fucking out your frustrations and stress.

Oh yeah, coming to this event was definitely a good call on your part.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #my best habit #my writing

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funnyincorrectmcu · 3 years

Note

Saw you were doing an ask spree so I have a question! What are your ultimate favourite Marvel fanfics? (Ao3 answers preferable!)

OOOH!!!

I ALWAYS LOVE THIS QUESTION!! But it’s also always SOO hard, because I have SO many fics that I ADORE! <3 <3 <3

Okay okay. Since you’re asking for ultimate favorites, but since you’re also in a sense kind of asking for recommendations, I’ll do you a solid and give you a list of fifteen (which is really doing myself a solid because it means there are fewer that I have to narrow down).

That said, if you really want my full list, go to my AO3 account and check out my bookmarks (and some of my works, if you’re interested!). Because there truly are a LOT of AMAZING writers out there. <3 <3

Alright. Here goes nothing.

Also, I am SO sorry this took me so long, but it took me forever to narrow down to fifteen, and even with THAT, I cheated. XD

Also also, fair warning, 95% of these are Tony and Peter centric. <3

Also also also (lots of also’s, oops XD), I’m gonna give a little bit of info on each one for anyone interested, but PLEASE, read all tags and warnings before you actually start reading, because some of these are a little rougher than others. (Btw, when I say “major warnings”, I’m referring to AO3′s “major archive warnings” list.)

1. More Ancient Than Magic by @ironfamjam

This is a mini Hogwarts AU that I absolutely ADORE and think about at least once a week. The way the author melds the two universes is incredible and so well done, and I quote it all the time. One-shot, IronFam centric, featuring Ned and MJ, with special guest appearances from the other Avengers and Peter’s classmates. No major warnings.

2. Everybody Loves Skip by @baloobird

Okay, Kris is my favorite MCU fanfic author of all time, so you’ll see her on here a couple of times. This is by far my favorite story of hers, and it’s what made me fall in love with Interwebs. <3 <3 Multichapter, Peter centric, featuring Ace!Peter and Interwebs, with special guest appearances from Tony, May, and Tracy Leeds. Minor sexual harassment/non-con, but it doesn’t get too graphic.

3. Ohana by @jen27ny

I read this story as a part of last year’s Irondad Big Bang, and let me tell you, I was SOOO invested. I got to the point where I had to send in play by play reactions because I was so emotionally invested. The story is so well told. <3 Multichapter, Tony and Peter centric, featuring Pepperony, Spideychelle, and minor Stucky, with special guest appearances from the rest of the Avengers, HYDRA, and my fast beating heart. No major warnings.

4. Come, My Darling, Homeward Bound by @i-am-irondad

ANOTHER Irondad Big Bang 2020 story that I became OVERLY invested in to the point that I had to send play by plays in to the author. It’s a Room AU, and she NAILS each and every one of the character dynamics. I never even saw Room, and I loved it. <3 Multichapter, Tony, Peter, and Morgan centric, featuring the rest of IronFam, Spideychelle, and adorable sibling moments, with special guest appearances from Quentin Beck and my tears. Minor implied sexual harassment/non-con. (She also has a prequel and a sequel, just so you know.)

5. The Lightning Strike by @booksxtvxsupernatural

Yet ANOTHER Irondad Big Bang 2020 story that hit me right in the feels. This is a canon-divergent post-Infinity War fic, and the way the author shows how events could’ve transpired is so realistic and beautiful. <3 One-shot, Tony and Peter centric, featuring Harley Keener and Nebula, with special guest appearances from IronFam, May Parker, and several other Avengers.

6. Family Doesn’t End with Blood by @baloobird

This is a series of one-shots by my girl Kris based off of the Irondad Bingo prompts, so there are a lot of different prompts and themes, but they ALL rock. Multichapter, Tony and Peter centric, featuring Ace!Peter, IronFam, and Interwebs, with special guest appearances from several other MCU characters. Warnings vary, so pay attention to the tags and read the notes.

7. I love you more than anything (bio dad AU) by @iron--spider

Okay, so maybe this is cheating, because it’s technically a series, but every fic in it is so good that I couldn’t possibly pick just one. I just love the whole series, because I love how the author builds their relationship. It’s so cute. <3 Series of one shots, Tony and Peter centric, featuring the rest of the Stark and Parker family and baby Peter, with special guest appearances from Obadiah Stane, James Rhodes, and Happy Hogan. No major warnings.

8. sometimes, people just die (and sometimes, they don’t) by @snarky-drabbles

This one was for the 2019 Irondad Secret Santa (huh. No wonder so many of them are Tony and Peter centric. XD), and it’s an amazing time loop story that takes place during Endgame and has an ending you might not expect, but it ROCKS. One-shot, Tony and Peter centric from Peter’s POV, featuring Pepper Potts and Stephen Strange, with special guest appearances from a whole lot of fighting. XD

9. A Rite of Passage by @baloobird

Another ADORABLE Interwebs from my favorite person, because she made me obsessed with this ship and now I can’t stop. XD One-shot, Interwebs centric (wait, did I actually find one that isn’t Tony and Peter??), featuring Ace!Peter and Bi!Ned, with special guest appearances from Brad Davis, Flash Thompson, and Betty Brant. Minor sexual harassment/non-con, but nothing graphic at all.

10. Where Dreams are Nightmares in Disguise by @baloobird

This one was actually written for me, by Kris, so obviously, it made this list. I seriously cannot thank her enough for writing this amazing fic for me based on my prompt, and for writing it so well! I LOVED IT! <3 One-shot, Tony, Peter, and Morgan centric, featuring Pepper Potts and lots of LEGOS, with a special guest appearance from a really bad dude. No major warnings.

11. harm and foul by @iron--spider

You know, there’s a lot of Tony protecting Peter out there, but sometimes, I just really wanna see Peter protecting Tony, and this is a GREAT example of that. One-shot, Tony and Peter centric, featuring IronFam, Ned Leeds, and bada** mofo Peter Parker, with special guest appearances from Justin Hammer and a few Avengers. No major warnings.

12. Sugar, Butter, Flour by @doctornineandthreequarters

Another one written for me, this time by the incredible Jaime for the 2019 Irondad Secret Santa, and I couldn’t have asked for anything better. She took my prompts to heart and created some BEAUTIFUL sibling bonding and I LOVE it!! <3 <3 One-shot, Peter, Harley, and Morgan centric (whoa. Another one without Tony. See? I have variety! ...kind of. XD), featuring Pepperony and adorable sibling love, with a special guest appearance from a Karen. No major warnings.

13. Bite the Bullet by @baloobird

In case you haven’t figured it out, yet, I love you, Kris. XD <3 Another amazing ace story that gets me feeling all kinds of validated and loved. <3 One-shot, Tony and Peter centric, featuring Spideychelle, Ace!Peter, and Ace!Tony, with a special guest appearance from BFF Ned and lots of lovely ace acceptance. No major warnings.

14. what is stronger than the human heart which shatters over and over and still lives by @lyssismagical

So, I started reading her works solely through Tumblr, and when I finally realized that she had an AO3, I went on there and bookmarked a TON of her stories immediately. This is one of her more recent ones, but it’s one of my faves, even with all the whump (being Whumptober and all). It has a positive ending, I promise. One-shot, Tony and Peter centric, featuring amazing BFF Michelle Jones, protective Peter Parker, and adorable little sister Morgan Stark, with special guest appearances from Pepper Potts, May Parker, and a lot of family love and support. Rape/non-con, but it isn’t super graphic.

15. Peaches by @peterparkrr

This was yet another Irondad Secret Santa 2019 fic, and while this one wasn’t written specifically for me, I freaking loved it. There’s so much tension and mystery in this, and I seriously thought I was gonna pass out reading it from all of my worry. But, luckily, it has a happy ending. One-shot, Tony and Peter centric, featuring canon divergence and lots of references to other Avengers, with a special guest appearance from a terrible government. No major warnings.

And there’s my top 15! But, because I said I was cheating, here are two bonus fics that cannot be found on AO3. I know you prefer AO3, but trust me when I say you cannot pass these up.

1. This fic by @loubuttons

This was posted directly to Tumblr, but I have it saved in screenshots on my phone and I re-blog it all the time because I absolutely ADORE it. I will always be down for Peter and Morgan fics, especially when Tony is involved, and this one touches my heart like no other. One-shot, Tony, Peter, and Morgan centric, featuring protective big bro Peter Parker and Tony being an amazing parent, with special guest appearances from equally awesome Pepper Potts and May Parker. No major warnings.

2. He’s My Intern? by losingmymindtonight (if they have a Tumblr, I don’t know it, so if anyone knows it, please find them and tell them they’re awesome)

This one was posted on FF.net, and it was actually one of the first Tony and Peter stories I ever read, and it BLEW me away. This one is another series of one-shots, but each one is filled with soft Tony and Peter moments and I love it. Multichapter, Tony and Peter centric, featuring Happy Hogan, Bruce Banner, F.R.I.D.A.Y., and all the hurt/comfort you could possibly want, with special guest appearances from Pepper Potts, May Parker, Ned Leeds, and several other Avengers. No major warnings.

Okaaaaay. I think that’s it??

Wow. That took me FOREVER.

And I’m not even sorry, because all of these authors deserve ALL of the credit I gave them.

Thank you so much for asking this! I hope I didn’t bore you or babble too much. XD

All of you should definitely check out these amazing fics! They 100% deserve the praise! <3 <3

Thanks again for asking! <3

#asks #personal #not an incorrect quote #still mcu #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfic recs #mcu #mcu fanfic #fan fiction recommendations #mcu fan fiction

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gigglinggoblin · 3 years

Text

Whisper Drinkers: No More Words

Image used with permission from the lovely and fantastically talented Cody Darkstalker! Go check out her gorgeous collection on her Twitter, Instagram and Onlyfans!

[pov: anygirl, femdom, undead but sweet, nsfw, hypnosis, fantasy, intelligence reduction, pet play, headpats, leghumping, consensual, but you know maybe don’t actually drain your partner’s thoughts without asking them irl idk you should tell them if you’re a vampire thing that drinks words is all I’m saying]

"U-Um, so, so maybe I'm talking too much," Ami whimpered, as the mysterious woman next to her on the bed reached over, took her by the hand, and began to delicately caress it, running long and slender fingertips over Ami's palm and smiling slyly up at her, "it's just th-that I'm, um, well, see, I've never—never had anyone in my room before, is all."

The raven-haired beauty smiled up at her, hearts dotting her cheeks like freckles, luscious lips parted in a tempestuous pout. Her pretty jewelry caught the room’s rosy light so dazzlingly. So glamorous and glimmery...

Ami squirmed and barely held in a squeak as the woman beamed and scooted a little closer. She reached up and affectionately stroked Ami's cheek.

Then her hand slipped down to tug at the neckline of Ami's modest blouse.

"Oh!" Ami bit her lip, excitement trickling through her almost as fast as the red rushing to her cheeks. "I-I mean, well, see, of course I—" Her voice nearly broke as she felt her hand being guided to the woman's breast, guided to rest there, to gently feel the softness of the woman's skin, such a pretty hue of rosy-pink in the light.

"—it's not my room, of course," she corrected, cheeks burning, wiggling as the woman started undoing buttons on the blouse, undressing her even as she babbled. Why can’t I stop talking? Please, gods, let me stop talking.

"I mean, it is, because—well, I paid f-for the room, it's an inn, obviously. It's just tha—<i>aaaaat</I>—" She practically mewled as she felt her blouse being tugged away, as the woman leaned in even closer, and she breathed in that sweet minty perfume. Oh, fuck, this lady smelled so... so nice...

"Just that," she panted, but her words were scattering to the winds as those soft, luscious, pouty lips settled on her neck and began to kiss slowly, sweetly, indulgently across her skin, "just that, um, I mean, I-I've... I've, um... never..."

She felt a hand on her side, and without thinking, Ami allowed herself to be steered so she could be pushed back onto the bed.

Her head settled onto the pillow, and she was squirming and blushing and whimpering as she now felt the mysterious woman's cool, plush weight on her, pinning her to the bed, as those lips smacked indulgently along her neck and jawline. "... n-never," she whimpered, marveling at the softness of the breast as she squeezed and fondled it, "never... with..."

She trailed off into a moan as those wonderful kisses reached the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulders, as her sensible bra was undone to join the blouse beneath her.

Her head was starting to feel so... so bubbly. So fizzy. She actually giggled as she felt the woman's fingers running through her hair, stroking her with the utmost gentleness. "Oh, um, g-gosh," she gasped, wriggling, "you're... p-petting me l-like I'm s-some kind of... um... um... umm..."

Kitten. Puppy. Bunny. Pet. Silly girl who needs to be comforted and soothed. She struggled to form the words, desperate to fill the silence, but no sooner had the thoughts bubbled up into her mind than they were gone. She blinked dazedly, bubbles popping throughout her fizzy pink mind.

The kisses paused. The woman pulled up and blinked innocently down at her, parting those soft, kissable lips in a seductive pout.

Ami stared up into those eyes. Stared at those lips. A little whimper escaped her, but she found she didn’t... didn’t quite know what to say right now.

But even as she was given a brief reprieve from the kisses, Ami squirmed, feeling some... other attentions getting a lot more pronounced. That other hand was not being idle. Long, slender, delicate fingers ran over her breasts, groping, fondling, stroking in dainty spirals around her nipples.

Ami shivered. Even more tantalizingly, the strange woman's knee was placed right between Ami's thighs so... so perfectly, and the thought occurred to her that it would be so easy to just kind of... grind...

Her words melted away, and she giggled, quite forgetting exactly what she'd been trying to say. "Th-This feels... nice..." she mumbled, as more bubbles of pink pleasure popped in her mind, as she found herself grinding more and more overtly, unable to remember why she would ever hold back.

She let out a moan, and oh, gods, moaning felt so good... so much better than talking...

The woman smiled and cooed her pleasure with Ami, one of the first sounds, Ami realized dumbly, she'd heard the woman make so far. And then she forgot why this was strange, because the lady’s voice was so pretty, and knowing her lover was pleased just made Ami want to grind and hump harder as those kisses returned to her neck, her breasts, so soft and sweet and indulgent, and Ami mewled and whined happily.

She could no longer remember much of anything, actually, aside from feeling good. She humped the strange woman's leg like a wifwolf in heat, moaning and panting, because why would she need to babble and prattle when she could be making cute horny noises like those that seemed to please the woman so well?

She beamed and cooed and wriggled happily as the woman rose up slightly, those glowing crimson eyes shining like twin sunsets, so pretty, so happy with Ami.

Ami was being a good girl, Ami knew, even if her lover couldn't say it. And that realization was the sweetest feeling of all.

And Ami giggled and squealed and bounced and ground against the leg as she came, came under her skirt like a good girl, and made even more adorable noises in the process.

She was panting, red-faced, gasping for breath. She was drowning in the pink mist. Drifting in the fizzy pink bubbles.

But... she was still horny, she realized dimly, even in afterglow.

So, so horny.

She stared up into those bright lights and smiled dreamily as her beautiful pale lover leaned down for the softest of kisses, the stranger’s lips pillowy and fulsome, her own sighs of bliss impossibly faint but sending Ami into a daze of pleasure.

Ami wrapped her arms around her lover and moaned into the kiss, and happily allowed her inner thoughts to dissolve, for a time, into pure, sweet nothings.

The pale woman no longer felt cold. But maybe Ami was just blushing hot enough for the both of them now.

~ ~ ~ ~

Whisper drinkers are a rare and unusual form of vampire that drink not blood, or cum, or milk, but words themselves. Said to arise from those who died lost to their own worries and anxieties, the whisper drinker is often considered a benevolent spirit, as far as any of the Dead can be described as such. They are often drawn to the worried, tired or anxious, and with their kisses, they slowly ease the thoughts away, granting their lovers a brief reprieve, comfort and affection.

Spirit Rangers consider whisper drinkers to be very low-priority targets, though it is something of a controversial subject whether whisper drinkers truly understand what they are doing. Some argue that the whisper drinker acts as a nearly elemental being, purely occupied with her instincts, and cares nothing for those she lies with. Others, particularly those who form relationships with the mute undead, claim that there is far greater complexity to the whisper drinker than anyone truly understands.

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