#you want a better world too. you want to demand your peers do better. - fine. good.

[andthebeanstalk]

the average person doesn't expect you to be a perfect ethical consumer, that's not possible for the vast majority of us. but what youre saying is it's better to do nothing at all and choose the worst possible options (sweat shops, overseas shipping waste, idea/product theft, all wrapped up in SHEIN) than to put even the tiniest effort in where you can.

[they are referring to this post]

What I said was "some people are doing literally everything they can to survive and have no extra bandwidth to spend extra time and money on their purchases, and it is cruel and therefore un-punk to gatekeep punkness and add additional shame to these people's lives based on that fact."

I think it's still a good thing to try to ethically consume; I literally never said it wasn't. I had never even heard of SHEIN before. Rather, I am much more concerned about what I saw as arbitrary gatekeeping based on ability and income.

And frankly how dare you claim that I am supporting sweatshops and abuse by saying that this additional work you are demanding (in this case, presumably, vetting every clothing company you buy from) is not always possible for people. It is not a light accusation to accuse me of supporting abuse.

"How dare you say we piss on the poor", Etc. 🙄 this isn't Twitter. You are determined to enforce moral purity, but you are failing to see the nuance.

Because when I say "no extra bandwidth," I mean no extra bandwidth. This is not the "car shows it's on E but actually secretly it has a lot of gas left" situation that abled people constantly assume disabled people mean when they say they are at their limit.

This is "at a certain point, people will hit a wall in terms of money and time and energy, and any energy spent after that comes directly out of their life force."

So the argument "okay but just spend a little more time money and energy actually" is not a valid one.

And the argument "if you are not able to do this specific task, then it means you're not doing anything else to make the world a better place" doesn't exactly impress me either. You said yourself that it is impossible to be a perfectly ethical consumer for most people.

How do you know what else people are doing to resist oppression? How many hours per week until your standards are met?What if someone works 3 jobs? Does that mean it's harder to be a good person if you're poor?? Why do you get to decide what specific avenue of bettering the world is the most morally repugnant or acceptable? What kind of proof of goodness and effort would make you satisfied enough to lay off on the shame?? Who are you helping??

Clothing is a fundamental human need, and some of us have to buy cheap fucking clothes quickly. Billionaires are buying their seventh yacht this month. The people who own fast fashion companies are abusing their workers and putting local affordable clothing stores out of business - and this applies for basically every company with price points that low because governments are failing to regulate corporations to enforce basic human rights.

I have $300 to spend on a new wardrobe as my old clothes have fallen apart or become too small. Do you have a way for me to get a new winter coat, 3 flannels, 10 shirts, 3 dress shirts, new sandals, 10 pairs of pants, 5 bras, 12 pairs of socks, and 10 pairs of underwear within that budget and also definitely 100% ethically sourced, with free returns in case it doesn't fit? Or will I simply have to use the cheap stores?

I have about an hour to spend on this per week. Should I continue to wear small and tattered clothing until I have the time, money, and energy to meet your standards? Did you know there are more empty homes in this country than homeless people? If I decide to splurge on only 100% ethically-produced products, and I can't make rent, and I become homeless, are YOU going to be there for me?? Or are you busy litigating the endless tiny shames of poverty in your own community?

So I ask you again, are you sure this is where you want to direct your punk energy? Because energy and time, as it turns out, are limited resources. And I would never expect you to secretly have more than you claim to have.

#original #punk #hopepunk #cripplepunk #i swear to god #reading comprehension website #how dare you say we piss on the poor #jfc 'what you're saying is we should do nothing' - what I'm saying is YOU are doing nothing by enforcing this boundary #you have to give people more credit than this. i believe you want a better world too. and it would be cool if you used your energy to #instead ask 'how do i fight for the people in my community to be clothed and have the time and income to shop ethically?' #or 'how do i support activism that pushes for regulation that could control these companies?' #monitoring how poor people spend money is a supremely Republican thing to do. as is demanding clear moral purity from every scenario. #you want a better world too. you want to demand your peers do better. - fine. good. #but you need to be asking if you have remembered and included everyone's needs when making statements like this. #capitalism is all for forgetting about poor and disabled people and refusing to believe their limits. #shame is a necessary weapon in fighting greed but it IS a weapon. be so careful where you point that shit. enough shame can kill a person #and a lot of us are already defending from it from all sides. #shaming a person who is already at their limit for not doing more is an act of cruelty. think very carefully about what that means please. #i literally don't even know what SHEIN is lol i just know classism when i see it #but I've had friends whose clothes were visibly falling apart with no income and so much so shame so deep in their hearts they were dying #and if they had seen that post it would have made them even sicker and gotten them no closer to the dignity of being properly clothed #shame is a weapon and /you need to be careful!!!!/

[marvelfilth]

Little death (18+)

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x f!reader

Warnings: g!p Wednesday, soft Wednesday, established relationship, smut, blow job, cockwarming, lots of Italian petnames.

Summary: working with normies takes a toll on Wednesday, but, luckily, you're always there to make it better.

A/n: I don't know any Italian, so please tell me if I made any mistakes.

Masterlist

You wake up to the sound of the front door clicking shut. Blinking blearily you hide a yawn behind your palm. The clock reads eleven pm and you sigh, wiping the sleep out of your eyes as you trudge into the kitchen, where Wednesday fixes herself a cup of coffee. You frown, stepping into her line of vision.

"Cara mia," she greets, "you should be asleep." She frowns as you unsuccessfully try to hide another yawn.

"I wanted to wait for you." You gesture to the couch and Wednesday grips the cup tighter.

You know she doesn't like it when you sacrifice sleep for her sake, but what she doesn't know is that you can't properly rest without her by your side, holding you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

Lately she's been spending more and more time at the station, working twice as hard as her peers to receive twice as little credit. It's eating away at both of you. She claims it doesn't bother her - the way they refuse to take her seriously, even when she solves cases that usually take months in weeks - but you see it in her rigid posture and the clench of her jaw. She wants recognition and she has every right to demand it.

"I still have some work to do." Her tone is monotone, but her eyes betray her emotions - she hates the words just as much as you do.

You nod. "I'll heat up your dinner." You turn around to busy yourself at the stove, but a hand on your wrist stops you.

"I'm not hungry." Her words are barely a whisper. "Go back to sleep. In our bed."

You want to argue, but you see the look in her eyes, the one that tells you you won't win. So you push her fringe to the side and place a tender kiss to her forehead. "Don't stay too long, okay?"

She nods reluctantly and takes measured steps to her office, a cup of coffee in hand.

You sink against the counter, shaking your head. The girl is going to work herself to death.

You remember the first time you asked her why she is so adamant on working at the police station when she has the money, the means and the skill to open her own firm. You remember the way she stood up straighter (you didn't even know it was possible) and told you only one thing, "No matter how much it pains me to admit it, they're far more experienced then I am, and their expertise is one I can learn from."

You sigh and walk into your bedroom, accompanied by the tapping of Wednesday's typewriter. You decide to give her an hour, tops.

Thing taps on the nightstand rapidly, despite the exhaustion you can clearly see in the added wrinkles on the pale skin. You shake your head, "You'll lose a finger if you do that."

He slumps back dramatically, and you can almost see him huff.

"I'll get her in an hour, don't worry. Just go rest."

He leaves with that, albeit begrudgingly, and you make sure he doesn't go anywhere near Wednesday's office to hide her briefcase.

You spend at least twenty minutes laying on the bed and staring mindlessly at the ceiling. When half an hour passes you get up and make your own cup of coffee, sleep already forgotten by the time you take the last sip.

Thing wiggles a finger at you and you roll your eyes, "It's one cup, Thing, I'll be fine."

He taps on the pillow and you sigh.

"Yes, I'm aware it's almost midnight."

He taps again, this time forcefully and you feel like a reprimanded child.

"Okay! I get it. No need to act like my mom. I just don't want to fall asleep and let Wednesday work until the morning," you mumble, earning a sympathetic pat on your shoulder.

You look at the clock again. Quarter to midnight.

You decide to test your luck.

"I told you to go back to sleep."

You burrow into her neck, your breath fanning the skin there. "You don't need to apologize." You start loosening her tie, and take it off when she doesn't protest.

You freeze in the doorway. Your girlfriend continues typing, but you can tell she hears you shuffling around as you make your way to her.

"You had coffee." She says as soon as your arms circle her shoulders. She sighs and pushes back against you, letting her head fall on your shoulder in a display of vulnerability only you are allowed to witness. "I'm sorry," she utters.

"Cuore mio," she mumbles, tilting her head to grant you access.

You hum, peppering her neck with featherlight kisses, hands sneaking beneath the collar of her shirt to trace her collarbones.

"Let me take care of you, Weds." Your words press into her skin, your lips brushing the sensitive spot on her neck. "Please?"

She pushes your hands away and turns her chair to face you and it's the only answer you need. You sit on her lap, her hands land on your waist, squeezing gently. Her eyes close as you unbutton her shirt, and she relaxes in your hold, almost melting into the leather of her office chair. You waste no time in getting it off, presenting yourself with a delicious view of her pale body. You lean lower to tease her breasts with your teeth. Her hands slide lower on your waist and you take it as a sign to move. You take off her bra in one swift motion and throw it on the floor, latching on the exposed skin faster than it hits the floor.

She whimpers quietly, the sound almost going unnoticed by you. You grind on her lap, feeling her harden, and get back to work, enveloping the other nipple in the warmth of your mouth, enjoying the way she arches into you.

"I'm gonna use my mouth, okay?" You breathe out, palming her over her pants.

She nods shakily as her hands settle on your ass, squeezing possessively. "Anything you want."

You squeeze her shaft before climbing off her lap onto the floor, but she stops you, blinking as she looks around the room. Her eyes glint and she reaches to grab a blanket you gifted her off the small sofa. She folds it neatly before placing it on the floor near her feet, only then allowing you to kneel before her.

You feel like you're about to explode.

"I love you," you whisper, kissing her knee, "so much."

Her face lights up with a rare smile, making your heart squeeze tightly in your chest. "I know, mia amata, I know." The term of endearment so easily slipping past her lips makes you nuzzle into her thigh, littering it with kisses.

You don't know how you got so lucky.

She gently massages your scalp, not rushing you as you both bask in the moment. You pull away just enough to undo her belt and buttons on her pants. She lifts her hips and you slide them off slowly, revealing the bulge poorly concealed by her boxers. Her fingers thread through your hair and you lean to kiss her through the fabric, enhaling her deep, musky scent. The twitch is barely noticeable, but it makes you quicken your pace, eagerly tugging her underwear down to reveal her thick shaft. You sit back on the balls of your feet to take in the sight of her sprawled on the chair, her legs spread and her cock standing proudly, waiting for your mouth to claim it.

Wednesday squeezes the back of your neck, asking, pleading, and you comply, taking the reddened head of her cock between your lips and sucking, enticing a low moan.

You grip her thighs with both hands and bury her shaft deep in your throat, blinking away the tears.

"Don't hurt yourself," she manages to whimper, her fingers painfully tight on your neck.

You hum around her, earning a low whine and start bobbing your head up and down. Her moans grow louder each time your nose buries in her dark hair, her hips snapping up to meet you halfway.

You can tell she's close.

"Just like that, tesorino," She cries out, and finally forces your face down, using you to pleasure herself. You gag around her thick length, swallowing precum.

She thrusts fast, blabbering in Italian as she chases her high. Her eyes roll to the back of her head with a final snap of her hips and she cums, her cock buried deep inside your throat.

You struggle to breath and swallow, pulling away from her and letting her paint your neck and breasts white.

You catch your breath, reveling in her reddened cheeks and heaving chest.

She lazily reaches behind her to rummage around one of the drawers and pulls out a box of wipes. She works slowly, tenderly brushing your skin clean. Then, she tugs on the string of your silk robe, her pupils blowing even wider when your naked body is finally revealed. She pats her thighs and you don't wate a second in straddling her. You pull her in a tender kiss, one full of love and promise.

She guides you up and nudges the tip of her cock against your entrance and you sink down, clenching around her length.

"Can you keep still for me?" She asks, her voice hoarse.

You nod, glancing at the mess of her desk. "How long will it take?" You ask, knowing full well you'd stay forever if that's what she wanted.

"Not long." With that she turns back around, places her chin on your shoulder and goes through the papers on her desk as you struggle not to whine, your pussy pulsing at the slightest nudge from the ravenette.

You relax against her when she finally settles, and burrow your face into her neck, smiling. She places occasional kisses to your temple, making sure not to jostle you too much.

She enjoys torture, but not when it comes to you.

Your eyes start to drop and you decide to busy yourself with undoing her braids, untangling from her to face her fully, the motion making you both swallow back a moan. Your fingers thread through the dark tresses with utmost care, massaging her shoulders on your way up and finally fully undoing her braids, letting her hair fall free.

She looks breathtaking.

"Bed?" She asks, and you realize you've been admiring her far longer than you thought. You nod, slumping against her.

She gets up without as much as a hitch to her breath, cupping your ass and pushing you snug against her, her dick rubbing inside you deliciously. You moan into her ear, urging her to move faster and she complies, gently laying you down on the bed not even five seconds later.

She cradles your face between her palms and peppers it with kisses as she starts moving inside you, setting up a pace. "Anima mia." A kiss on the underside of your jaw. "Luce della mia vita." A chaste kiss on your lips, as she fastens her thrusts. "Sei il mio tutto." She mutters, losing herself in your body.

You're too out of it to understand what she's saying, simply nodding to each statement and squeezing tighter around her with each foreign word. She stretches you, bottoming out in your gushing center. Her mouth busies itself on your breasts, paying enough attention to each hardened nub.

"Wednesday, I'm-" you cry out, pushing her head back down when she tries to look up, "Keep going please, please, please," you moan, letting tears spill free.

"Let go for me," she whispers, "now, cara mia."

You come with a loud cry, arching into her, squeezing her length as she releases inside you with a low whine.

"I love you," you pant as she falls on your chest.

She hums softly, her eyes growing heavier by second, and nuzzles deeper into you. "I love you," she mutters at last, before finally surrendering to sleep.

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

Cara mia - my dear

Cuore mio - my heart

Mia amata - my love

Tesorino - sweetheart

Anima mia - my soul

Luce della mia vita - light of my life

Sei il mio tutto - you're my everything

Requested by 🧞‍♀️ anon

#wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #Wednesday #wednesday smut #jenna ortega smut #little death

[artists-ally]

{Weather} Azriel x Reader

Hello people! My name is Ally and I am proud to enter the ACOTAR world with a bang. I've been writing for years and years now and thought eh fuck it why not start posting it.

So here I am. 100% not expecting this to go anywhere but if it does, come give me a shout! I'd love to hear what y'all have to say about it or hear your ideas for fic recommendations.

There isn't a whole lot of plot, just a thought that turned into another and I connected them. Enjoy!

Word Count ~ 7,523

Warnings ~ Language, blood, hurt/comfort, fluff, violence/fighting, lets all pretend that you can winnow inside the House of Wind for a sec pls.

Summary ~ You have been encompassed into the Inner Circle after the Spring Court went to shit. During a dry stead between the Queens and Hybern, Azriel was sent on a mission to the Mortal Lands to see what was going on. There is little he can do to hide his rather harsh expedition. Set during ACOWAR, you provide a level of comfort for the shadowsinger that no one else is capable of.

~~~~~

All of us are sitting around the House of Wind, relaxing after another brutal day of training. I had been with Cassian, Mor with Rhysand and Feyre, Amren off doing Amren things. Azriel was… nowhere to be found. 

It’s been a few days since anyone has heard from him. We know he’s been spying in the Queen’s territory, but to not have a check in or for him to not come home to rest for days on end is concerning.

But what makes my gut churn is the smell of blood coming from upstairs. 

Azriel’s blood. 

Rhys and Cass get a whiff of their brothers' carnage and exchange a worried look with me. The three of us winnow up to his room and knock on his door.

“Az?” Cass says softly.

No response.

“Azriel, it’s Rhys, open the door,” Rhysand knocks a little harsher than Cassian had. 

No response. They can hear his labored breathing and groans, and the smell of blood. They didn’t bother to knock a third time. When his door unlocked on a phantom wind, the sight was horrifying. Az peered over his shoulder at the curse coming from Cass, and shook his head.

“I don’t want visitors,” he mumbled, trying to stand, but failing to do so. Rhys and Cassian rushed to his side, helping him sit back down. I remained in the doorway. Staring at his wings.

They were a little mangled to say the least. Cuts and scratches littered the delicate leather, some puncture wounds oozed trickles of blood and puss. 

“What in the name of the Cauldron happened?” Cassian demanded from the shadowsinger. 

“Tree snare, Mortal lands are littered with them,” He groaned. “I’m fine, please just- please leave.”

He never begged quite like that before. The desperation was a foreign thing to his tongue. He tried to straighten his spine, but it did no such thing. He hissed at the jarring of his wings, and settled into the curves of his hunched over position.

He looked awful. 

“Az, we can’t just leave you like this. We can get Madja in here-”

“No,” he plead again, tone more harsh than the last. “No… leave. I don’t want any help.”

Typical of Az to say such a thing. The quiet, reserved male was always so adamant about doing things on his own he forgot that sometimes it’s better to ask for help than to suffer in silence. Especially when it comes to such a delicate and sensitive body part. 

But alas, the two brothers nodded, stepping around the third and heading to the door. I moved out of their way, but not with them. I just continue to stare at his toned, berated back. 

“Yn…” he called out. “Don’t make me beg you too.”

I stiffened. 

I knew how hard this must be for him. To turn down his friends, to turn down aid. I don’t know Azriel very well, not like the others did after spending five centuries with him. But maybe that would… I don’t know

“I won’t say anything,” I promised. “Just let me clean you up, is all I’m asking.”

He sighed heavily, hanging his head in his hands, but he nodded. I quickly shut the door behind me and moved to the bathroom. Under his sink there was a little brown pouch with all kinds of medical supplies. I grabbed some towels and a bowl of hot water appeared by his feet. When I walked back into the main area, he had his chin fastened on his fist, looking out the big window. 

I stood next to him laying the open bag next to him so I could rummage through it. There were some wipes, some bandages and some thick cloth pads. I ripped open as many as I thought I needed and began to apply pressure to the wounds on his arms and shoulders. 

Az held a few while I drenched a cloth with the warm water and began to clean off the dirt and sap. 

He didn’t even seem to breathe, to even blink as I ran the cloth up and down his right arm, ditching it on the floor when it was too dirty to continue. I repeated my steps until the majority of him was clean. The bleeding had stopped for the most part and I applied an adhesive pad to the area to keep it covered. I couldn’t smell any infection on them so it was okay to conceal the wounds. Had there been a sticky, yellow goo then they would need to drain. 

Then I looked at his wings.

They weren’t shredded, but they were not in good condition by any means. They looked so painful.

I silently moved to the opposite side of the bed, kneeling into the mattress and spreading out more supplies.

“I-” he started, “please be gentle…”

“Of course,” I nodded, resting my hand on his shoulder to try and get them to relax. They sagged a bit, but didn’t stay there long. The second my fingers grazed the smooth flesh, he jumped.

“Sorry, sorry,” I mumbled, retracting my hands. “What hurts?”

“No, no it’s not painful, just very sensitive, I’ll try to hold still,” he apologized, displaying his wings, stretching them out all the way as if to brace them against the bed. They were massive. And most of the small cuts and snags littered the top and middle of the span, not towards the bottom. 

“This might sting a little, if it’s too much, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

He nodded, clutching the tops of his knees. His breathing was hard as I dabbed the first cotton ball to the sore area. It had been rubbed raw from Mother knows what. 

There had to be hundreds of them, if not a thousand scrapes and scratches. But they all didn’t need tending to, they would heal just fine. There were a few that I was concerned about and applied something to keep the bacteria from spreading. 

I gently slid my hand to his shoulder, pressing it down from his ear, telling him it was okay, that he was alright. 

He listened, settling down. I knew he must be in a lot of pain. There wasn’t much that I could’ve done beside what I did, but I did as much as I could to ease the tension. I summoned another rag and gently cleaned the skin on his back, wiping the mud baked onto his skin. Az relaxed more at that.

“I know it’s not really my place to ask, but if you would like to share what happened, I will patiently listen, Azriel. If not, I’ll enjoy the silence with you,” I offered, my hands coming to his shoulders, massaging the thick muscle.

He groaned in satisfaction, dipping his head forward and sagging downward. His arms slumped to his side as I drove my knuckle between the fibrous strands. Az ground his teeth, breathing with every knot I worked from his body. I drove my thumb in and around the base of his wings, careful not to brush against them.

Cassian had once told how sensitive Illyrian wings were. Why they were so sensitive. It made my cheeks blush, which I was taunted for endlessly. 

Azriel sucked in a breath.

I had been too busy thinking about all the things Cass and Rhys had teased me with and my thumb slipped, brushing the delicate nerves at the base of his spine. I could see the goosebumps etch his bronze skin. 

“S-Sorry,” I stuttered, fingers trembling, struggling to resume. “Do you need anything else? Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

I stood before he had a chance to say otherwise. I didn’t, truly didn’t, mean to brush over the hyper-sensitive area. 

Azriel just looked up at me with full eyes. They looked like strangers, not the deep, fierce set of hazel that I had come to know. They were like the shadows that whispered in his ear. There hadn’t been a glimpse of them in the hour or so that I’d been here tending to him. It’s as if they’ve vanished. 

His eyes were bright, filled with his pupils in a way that made him seem feline. Like a true predator hunting in the pit of night. 

“I…” Az started, swallowing hard before his eyes darted between mine. “Will you stay? Please?”

He reached his hand to grab mine, and I let him, his warm, scarred hands engulfing mine. I nodded precisely, a smile playing on my lips. He seemed to deflate then, a weight being lifted off his shoulders and he dragged me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head against my stomach. 

I let my arms fall over his shoulders, the strands of his inky black hair finding its way into my fingers. I tangled it between my digits gently, letting the soft curls form as I brushed them away, repeating the process. 

I had no idea how long we stayed there for, but enough for the once dimly lit room to ignite with fae light as the sun set over the Sidra. 

Azriel began to tug me closer. I had no choice but to crawl into his lap, letting my weight rest over one of his legs as he clung to me. 

I didn’t dare try and break this moment. 

I nestled into the dip between his shoulder and neck, letting my eyes lull shut as his warm body did the same. I let my thumbs brush against the smooth skin on the back of his shoulder, wanting to press a kiss there, but… not my place, I reminded myself. 

I had always cared for the Illyrian more than the others had. Was always the one wondering if what his shadows were whispering were things to him or about him. I knew he had a traumatic pass, and I knew he suffered a great deal during the early years of his immortal life, but things were… they weren’t great, but we were in a lull. With Hybern. Things were stalled so we took this time to cut back.

Not Az. He was always spying somewhere, reporting on new territories siding with us or the King, but nothing more. We all knew he needed a break, but never took one. It was frustrating. 

He shifted on the bed, then I felt a gust of wind encase my body. 

His wings enveloped me entirely.

I had not expected it. I was shocked to say the least. I tensed for a moment, and he must have sensed it because he began to retreat.

“No, no” I said, adjusting myself on his muscular thigh for a moment. “Put them back.”

He answered with the leathery wings covering us completely. I settled into the warmth, the soft scent they admitted. I had never felt so safe in my entire life, so completely safe and comforted. 

I didn’t know a lot about Illyrian tradition since I had been encompassed into the inner circle, but I knew enough that it was a great honor to see a pair of wings up close, let alone touch them. If he had let me do that, gods only knew what this meant.

I felt a tear hit my shirt. I heard him sniffle, then hiccup in a breath.

“Azriel…” I breathed out slowly, gripping him tighter as he clung to me, the sobs wracking through his body. He gasped for a breath every now and then, the tears falling faster with every breath. 

He cried for a long while. I wasn’t even sure if he knew how to do that. To cry, to be vulnerable with anyone. 

“It’s okay, Az, I’m here, I’m right here Az it’s okay,” I soothed, twisting his hair around my fingers once again. His breathing seemed to even out at that, sobs reduced to trickling tears and sniffles. 

I didn’t know what to do. 

I didn’t know what to say.

Thankfully, he spoke. “I don’t know what you did, Yn… but you made the shadows go away. It is so quiet without their roar in my ear. In my bones… everything is silent. There are no whispers, no murmurs of potential threat. It is all quiet.”

My heart thundered in my chest so hard I thought it might break my rib cage. There were no words to describe the feeling in my body. I gripped him even tighter.

His hands stroked up and down my sides, gently nudging me to pull off. I did, meeting his glossy eyes and tear stained cheeks. His hand ever so gently came up to my face, fingers barely touching the surface of my skin as he looked into my eyes. So deep I thought he might see my thoughts. 

“Thank you,” was all he said. I nodded and smiled, tucking the hair behind his ears. “Besides Madja and my own mother, I have never let anyone touch my wings. Not even Rhys or Cassian. They are… my entire world. The most prized possession any Illyrian could hoist. They are my ticket to anywhere in the world and I let you touch them without a second thought.”

My eyes had widened at that. 

“In 500 years,” I gaped, “you’ve never let either of them touch your wings? Once?”

He shook his head, “Never. It is a privilege that few get to experience. Typically just mothers to their newborns, but once you learn to fly, you’re old enough to take care of them on your own. It becomes our responsibility to keep them safe and keep them clean. Of course there may be a medical need, but other than that, they are not to be touched. Only mates have that sacred right.”

My heart clenched. 

I’ve only been a part of this group since the middle of the war. I had left the Spring Court when Feyre had planted those lies. They spread to my territory and we all went our separate way. For the better. I chose to come and fight for what we all knew was right. I can’t say the same for the rest of my family. 

I had managed to hitch a few rides to Summer, right before Adrita was attacked. I fought alongside them, and none of them knew that I was from Spring besides Feyre. She had recognized me for the Tithe. We instantly connected and she offered me sanctuary with them while we fought against Hybern. I had exceptional knowledge of the Spring Court and The Wall, of who was going where and when. 

When we came back to Velaris, I was introduced to Amren, who just briefly looked up from that book, took a sip from a gauntlet, gave me a cold once-over, and went right back to the book. 

Nesta was much the same.

Elain hadn’t said much either, just asked me if I knew anything about the human lands. I was later informed on her betrothed. It made my heart hurt. 

Mor was undoubtedly my best friend. She really helped me get settled here in Velaris. She was the one to pick me up time and time again when I didn’t think I could go on. 

Rhysand was more of a gentleman than anyone painted him to be, especially all those years Under The Mountain. He was not a hostile homicidal maniac like Amarantha had painted for him. He was gentle, and kind, only being capable of those horrible things when he needed to be. 

Cassian was… well, Cassian. Big, strong, charming as ever. Dumber than a pile of rocks but a brute of a man nonetheless. He was my other best friend. My go-to drinking buddy and my favorite person to beat at cards. I would come with him and Nesta to Windhaven. He was not merciful. 

And then there was Azriel. He rarely spoke when he wasn’t prompted. He kept to himself, to those shadows, and wasn’t one for conversation. I had only spoken to him three or four times. Most of them during the war, once during Solstice to give him his gift. It was usually just… so, between us. 

Until now.

Until he let me touch his wings. 

Could it have been a possibility that-

As if he knew what I was thinking, “I didn’t know how to bring it up to you, Yn. I didn’t want to at first, cause I didn’t think you felt anything. Any type of bond. And I certainly didn’t want to bring it up right in the middle of the war, risk death, and then leave you alone forever. I couldn’t bring myself to leave you with that type of pain.”

My eyes stung. My heart thundered. Every fiber in my body became aware of just how close I was to him. I took in a deep breath, eyes blinking rapidly.

“If you… I don’t know if that is what you want,” he hesitated. “If I am what you want, but you are everything I’ve ever needed, Yn. You are the sunshine to my dark and hazy life. The only thing that can make my deep, roaring shadows disappear. Completely. It is calm and utterly silent when you are near. And when I get to hold you… Cauldron Yn, it is like a fresh breath of air. Like a torrential rain to my wildfire. It hasn’t been this quiet inside my body since the day I was born.”

There was nothing I could do to stop the tears from flowing. They hit the clothing between us, saturating the fabric and then drying. I didn’t know what to say. And I could tell that was killing him, my silence. He tensed beside me, gripping my arms a little tighter.

“Yn” he breathes, so softly. So gently than anyone ever had. 

I looked into his eyes, finding them to be so much more breathtaking than I did a little while ago.

“I don’t know what to say, Azriel,” I chuckled lightly. “I’m shocked, I just thought that you and Mor…”

“No,” he shook his head adamantly, “Not us. Not ever, I’m afraid. I spent a long time trying to… coax her, but she never budged. I decided I needed to look for someone else. For you.”

I smiled greatly. 

“Stay with me, tonight,” he grabbed both of my hands, placing kisses to each of them before folding them against his heart. “Let me give this to you, slowly, at your own pace. It is yours, Yn. It always has been. Let it be yours, if you choose.”

His eyes, glowing and begging me to say something. When he pressed his lips to my hands, I could feel my chest tighten in a way it hadn’t before, constrict around itself until it let loose and erupted from within. Everything I had hoped for, spent countless hours dreaming of, pestering my mother about stories of when she found out my father was her mate, came true at that moment. 

An unrelenting pull in his direction, a deceptively overwhelming feeling of trust and sureness that seemed to never end crashed through me. It was like I was looking at him for the first time. Like I opened my eyes and the first images I was blessed with seeing were of him, of Azriel, this shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court. 

A piece of a puzzle locked into place, one that I hadn’t even known existed yet. And here it was, front and center in my mind, so clear it almost blinded me. 

All I could do was smile. Smile and nod my head as I watched his teeth flash before he wrapped me up in his arms. He giggled, tossing me over his shoulder and rolling me around on his enormous bed. I laughed and laughed, letting him pepper my skin with kisses. 

“You have no idea how long I have waited for this, Yn,” He sighed, propping himself up on one elbow, clutching my fingers in the other. “How long I have needed a mate.”

“I think I might have an idea,” I smiled, tucking some hair behind his ear. He rolled his eyes, scooping me up and laying me on top of his chest.

Cauldron knows how long we stayed like that for, just talking and smiling at each other, kissing every now and then. When I grew too tired to keep my head up, his wings encased me again, that soft, musky scent circling around me. 

“Rest, my Yn,” he whispered, his arms coming around my waist. “We can talk all day tomorrow.”

+++++++

The sun made him look like the most perfect shade of bronze. His dark, inky hair was a mess over his eyes, his tattoos swirling across his shoulders. His wings were still folded around me, keeping my body pressed to his all night long. 

Azriel slept, another thing I wasn’t sure he actually knew how to do. 

I shifted my legs around, detangling them from his. He groaned, but let them go, only tightening his grip around my torso.

“Az,” I whispered, "we need to get up, training is in an hour.”

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled, tucking his head beneath my chin. The hair on his head smelled like the Sidra; salty and lemony. So calming and soothing. I let him, and myself, have a few more minutes, just basking in each other. But I eventually did have to be the fun killer.

“I’m sure Cassian will understand if you don’t want to train today, but I unfortunately don’t have any excuse. I have to get ready and go eat before I go. Let me up, please.”

He let go reluctantly, making a big huff as I climbed away from him.

I laughed, “You know I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Yes, but I wanted to spend this morning with you. I want to spend all my time with you.”

My heart swooned. “Come to breakfast with me. Even if you don’t want to train you can still come and watch.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, but followed me nonetheless. I got changed into my fighting leathers, and Az strolled behind me to the dining room. I greeted everyone like I normally would, as did Azriel. They could instantly tell, because he wore a smile on his lips the entire meal, taking up the empty seat next to me, which normally was Mor’s.

When she strolled in, she gave him a high eyebrow and he shrugged. She looked at me and I had to suck my lips into my mouth to keep from cackling out. I mouthed ‘I'll tell you later’.

When I rose from my seat, so did Azriel, following me into the kitchen.

“When will you be back?” He asked softly, cradling me close.

“By noon, Mor and I have some work we need to do at Rita’s,” I responded, falling into his warmth. “Are you going to be alright here?”

He nodded against my shoulder, “I just don’t want you to go, is all. I’m enjoying the peace and quiet.”

My heart sank at that. I was just happy to offer him at least some moments of rest in his utterly chaotic life. If I was able to give him any sort of relief, I’d stop at nothing to make sure that he has access to it whenever he pleases. Who was I to deny him of that?

He stepped away, pressing his lips into my forehead a few times. 

“Have a good training session, please don’t get beat up too bad, I have plans for later,” he smiled, rubbing the sides of my arms.

“Oh?” I tilted my head.

“It’s a surprise, now get going, Cass is waiting for you.”

“Don’t blow a gasket when I come back with bruises from him,” I chuckled. 

He straightened, real concern coming into his eyes. “Maybe I should come-”

“No, no I’ll be okay,” I explained. “Cassian has beat my ass more times than I could count and you were able to hold it in. I’ll be fine, it’s never anything too bad anyway, nothing I can’t handle. I'd really rather not see you bash his face in because he got in a couple of good shots.”

That didn’t make it any better. His grip tightened, his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. 

“Hey!” Cassian called from down the hall. “Put your lover's quarrel on hold, we gotta go, Yn. If you’re not out here in 30 seconds I’ll make you go up and down the steps every second you’re late.”

I rolled my eyes, impatient bastard.

“I need to go,” I said, removing his hands from my body. “I will come find you when I’m back. Try and relax, okay? I’ll be fine, you know that.”

He just nods briefly before stepping out of the way to let me pass. He caught my elbow at the last second, kissing me so intensely I thought I might fall over. When he let me go, he was smirking like a cat. 

++++++

The bond must have already been slipping into place because I could feel this agonizing pull back to the House of Wind. But it also felt like he was right here with me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was spying from the shadows, something for him and I to talk about later.

Cassian and I had gone through our normal workouts, doing footwork drills and some strength training. But of course, even after almost collapsing to the floor himself, he wanted to spar. 

“Can’t we just skip it for today?” I begged, rolling my head to look at him. 

“Nope,” he said with a grin. “You need more practice, and I know it’ll come in handy against Hybern. If you ever find yourself without a weapon, all you’ll have is your fists. And seeing the look on Az’s face will be priceless.”

“You know,” it wasn’t really a question.

“I’ve known before he has,” Cassian huffed. “I pointed it out to him after about three times of you being near him. His shadows always disappeared and I found him staring at you. He didn’t even realize, said that he hadn’t even noticed things were quiet because he was too busy thinking of you.”

My heart lurched in my chest, filling with pride and triumph. “I don’t know what it is that I do.”

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “That is the whole point of being a mate, things just simply work.”

“I have given it a ton of thought in the past, about what it would feel like to have a mate, to have a bond with someone. It’s… so much different than I expected it to be. I miss him so much more than I thought I would. I thought I’d be able to ignore it, but I can’t.”

“Welcome to having a mate,” Cassian snickered, taking up a fighting stance. I followed suit, circling around him and dodging his blows. I wasn’t lucky enough to escape them all, one particularly hard kick sent me to my knees, and then Cassian was on top of me. 

He flatten me like a bug and flipped me on my back. His forearm pressed into my throat, cutting off oxygen. I coughed, blood rushing to my face, my vision darkening. 

“Come on, Yn, what have I taught you to do?” he pressed further into my esophagus. I drove my knee as hard as I could into his crotch, causing him to hiss, loosening his grip, faltering. 

I smacked him as hard as I could in the face, sending him toppling to the ground. It had been hard, harder than I really meant to. I could see his eyes darken as he rose to his feet, really wanting a challenge now. He started to run towards me, and I braced myself for the impact, but it never came. 

I saw a shadow blurr by and Cassian was vaulted 12 feet in the air. He made a dent in the earth as he drove through the soil. In seconds, he was encased in tendril like smoke. One that I recognized all too well.

“Az-”

“I am going to kill you,” the voice was so foreign. Azriel straddled Cassian as he held him up by the collar of his shirt. “How dare you put your hands on my mate.”

I climbed through the ropes of the ring as fast as I could, jumping down and off the platform. I sprinted the distance between us as fast as I could. I screamed his name, but couldn’t hear me over the roar of the shadows. 

Before I could get there, Cassian had thrown him off and was ready to fight. The two went at each other so hard I was genuinely worried that Azriel was going to hurt him. I didn’t know what else to do, so I took off towards the townhouse. 

I barged in the door, huffing puffing, and red faced as the door smacked off the wall. 

“Cauldron alive, Cassian, how many times have I told you not- Yn?” Rhysand’s eyes immediately softened. “Are you alright?” “I was sparring with Cassian and Azriel came out of nowhere,” I rushed, barely able to speak over my labored breathing. “Last night he told me I’m his mate and I think he might actually kill-”

“Oh shit,” Rhys cursed, grabbing my arm and winnowing us both to the sight. They were still scrapping, both bleeding from the face. Azriel looked like an animal, and Cass looked like he was genuinely afraid. I haven’t ever seen him look like this, either of them. 

Rhys threw himself in the middle, trying to get Azriel’s attention. He paid no mind to his High Lord, throwing him off his back as he lunged for Cassian again. I went to step in, to try and get his attention but-

“Yn no,” Rhysand shouted from a few feet away. That caught Azriel’s attention quickly. He looked up from where he had Cassian in a chokehold, eyes locking with mine. In a second, he vanished from Cass and appeared behind me. His arms were strong and tight around my middle. A snarl ripped from his chest as Cassian rose to his shaky feet. 

His shadows encased us, creating a shield. He took staggering steps back, inhaling and exhaling so hard I thought he might pass out. Rhysand moved to check on his brother, Cassian battering him away as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

“Azriel,” I said through a hurried breath. “Az it’s me, it’s me.”

He inhaled deep, scenting the air, letting out a deep breath. His grip loosened and he said my name like an old forgotten prayer. 

The shadows vanished immediately, his heavy body leaning against mine. 

“Yn…” he breathed, turning me around. I shrugged his hands off of me, more than pissed at him for barging and attempting to kill his brother. 

“Go inside,” I said, turning away from him. 

“Yn please-” “I don’t wanna hear it from you,” I shouted, eyes blazing. He took a small step back, ears flattening back against his head, wings tucking in tightly to his body. 

“That’s right, shadowsinger, go back-”

“Not another word from you either,” I snarled at Cassian. He, too, jumped in his skin. “You have nothing to brag about either. Don’t you dare put your hands on my mate like that again.”

Silence rippled around us. Rhys lifted his hand, opened his mouth to say something, but the glare I sent him had him scratching the back of his head quickly. 

“I swear to the Mother that if anything happens while I’m with Mor at Rita’s, I’ll kick all of your asses myself. And don’t think for a second that I won’t drag Feyre into this either.”

That was more than enough to get the Illyrians to look the other way, words forgotten in their minds. I turned on my heel and grabbed my water from the corner before stalking off down the street to find Mor. 

++++++

“He just appeared out of thin air?” Mor’s eyes were wide.

I nodded, “It was like he was waiting for something to happen. He would have killed Cassian, I’m sure of it, if Rhys hadn’t been there, and said my name to snap Az out of it.”

“Sounds like someone needs a little time alone with their new mate,” Mor’s eyebrows waggled on her forehead. I smacked her arm and she boomed a laugh. “I’m just suggesting.”

“It hasn’t even been a day since he told me, Mor, and he’s acting like he owns me. Rhys didn’t dare do this with Feyre,” I shook my head. 

“Well,” she countered. “Rhys did almost kill Cassian once.”

“I know, I’ve heard the story a million times,” I sighed. “But that was after the Weaver and all that. They had mated and had time for the bond to be in place. There weren’t any problems until that and Az and I have barely kissed a handful of times. That’s it. How can he be this… territorial?”

“Az is unexplainably protective. Of all of us. Before you came along he was like that with all of us. In a different way, but… he’d never let any of us volunteer before he looked into it or did it himself. It is rooted deep within him, in a way none of us will understand.” “Even so, it doesn’t make it okay for him to do what he did.” “I don’t disagree,” she added, “but just try and understand where he is coming from. Yn, you are the only one who he has come across that can make his head silent. To stop the shadows and the constant whispers. I don’t know about you, but if that were me, I’m sure I’d do everything in my power to make sure nothing ever happens to my peace and quiet.”

+++++

When I came back with More, she bid me good luck before Winnowing herself back down to the Townhouse.

I came to the main dining room, Cassian, Rhysand and Feyre all sitting at the table. 

“Okay, what the hell happened today?” Feyre demanded, noticing the bruises on my neck. 

“I’m surprised you don’t already know,” I snorted, letting down my shields so she could see it all. She flinched slightly when Az landed a particularly brutal blow to Cassian’s face. It sent blood spewing from his mouth.

“Has anyone seen him?” I asked with a sigh. No one answered, but I heard something. I whipped my head from side to side, this deafening roar in my ears. 

“What?” Rhysand asked. 

“You all don’t hear that?” I asked, eyes wide as I searched for the thunderous sound. I listened deeper and deeper, not hearing any words. I suddenly felt a chill in my bones so cold I thought I’d freeze right there. There were so many voices and whispers. 

I looked up to the set of grand stirs and noticed the shadows lurking at the top. 

Azriel… 

I sprinted up the stairs, the tendrils leading me down the hall and to his room. When I opened the door, the room was almost pitch black, shadows swirling around and around like an endless storm over the Sidra. 

I tried to push my way through, but I rebound off of it like a shield. I tried again, screaming his name. He was in the center. And I had no way of getting to him. I began to panic, shouting for him louder and louder.

Nothing, no response from my shadowshinger. I took a deep breath and shoved my body against the wall, bouncing off of it immediately. I slammed hard against the floor, back groaning as I pushed myself to all fours. I tried to crawl, but it was no use, it flung me back and into the hallway where Ryhs, Cassian, and Feyre were all standing, Mor popping up next to her.

“What the fuck-” Mor gasped, seeing it for herself. 

“He’s in there,” I heaved, “Mor I can’t get to him what do I do?”

She was at a loss for words and Rhys slid beside her, taking it all in. He did nothing to hide his wide eyes and frantic look. His own shadows rose and tried to comfort the tempest, but failed. The roar in my ears grew so loud I couldn’t hear whatever Rhysand said to me. I tried to read his lips, follow the bond.

I felt deep inside, it was so cold. If I didn’t know any better I wouldn’t have known anything was there at all. I pulled and pulled and pulled and pulled. I must have screamed because everyone around me flinched. I went slack against the wall and covered my ears, calling out for Azriel. Begging for him to come to me. 

A flicker. I felt a flicker of warmth in my chest. Against my soul, I felt a tug, as if he too was pulling on the same thread that ties us together. I pulled faster and faster until I slammed into something so hard I gasped. 

It was rock solid, something so impenetrable, like magic itself. I beat on it with everything I had, prying at it with my whole being until it began to give away. I tore this wall apart, it grew warmer and warmer-

She doesn’t want a mate, she doesn’t want me…

There is no meaning if I do not have her to protect, she doesn’t want me to protect her.

Useless, dumb, bastard born Illyrian filth.

Rhysand and Cassian should have left you in that acid bath and left you to dissolve into nothing. They should not have saved someone so vain and cowardly.

These were not my thoughts, but they sure felt like it. I looked towards the swirling wind and shadow, finally seeing Azriel at the center, crumbled to the floor, hands over his ears. 

“Azriel,” I shouted. He didn’t move.

“What’s happening?” Rhysand asked, helping me to stand on my feet.

“I-I don’t know I just felt this rush of thoughts and now I can see him but he can’t hear me,” I felt the tears in my eyes. He looked around, as if searching for his own thoughts, but then he stood rigid, throwing a glance at Cassian. They seemed to share a thought before Rhys turned back to me. 

“Speak in your mind,” he said hurriedly. “You have to talk to him in your mind.”

“Wha-”

“Just do it,” he urged, and I turned back to face the raging storm. 

Azriel… I whispered. 

I watched him flinch, hand bracing on the corner of his bed. His eyes and cheeks were wet with tears when they met mine. 

Yn… 

Az you have to take this down so I can get to you, I begged, it’s too strong for me to get through let me in.

He went silent.

Az please let me in. I can make the shadows go away, remember? I can make all of this go away, you just have to calm it down enough for me to get to you.

I can’t.

Why?

I am the shadows, and they are me.

“What is he saying?” Rhysand asked. 

“He just said he can't tame them, that he is the shadows and they are him,” I shook my head, threading my fingers in my hair. “I can help him but I can’t get to him.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, eyes wary.

“With my life, High Lord,” I said, because it was true. 

He grabbed my hand and the familiar hollowness of winnowing encased me. He tried to drop me right next to Az, but it seemed to be warded. I was instantly flung away from him and hit the wall so hard I saw stars. Feyre came to my side immediately as the bright light in the hallway dimmed. 

I forced myself up and boiled with rage. How dare he, my mate, keep me from him. I trudged forward, a small limp to my gate but I kept on pressing, despite the protests from behind me. I came to the whirling wind and shadow, staring at it. 

I placed my palm against it and closed my eyes. 

I know this is you, shadowsinger. These shadows, this wall… but it is not Azriel, not my mate. He would never keep me away. He’d want me right next to him, holding him as we weather this storm together. I know you are one in the same, and I know I make you go away and you are angry. He is the shadows, and you are him. I am his mate, meaning he is a part of me. I am the sun that casts the shadows you need. I am the maker of your shadows. Without one there cannot be another, without my mate there is no one to harness your strength. Let me in, let me cast the sunshine so that your shadows may sing once again.

There was almost a noise of discontent before the roar in my ear withered away. It disbanded like fog in the early spring mornings. The wind and shadows misted away, the room and hallway no longer swirling in a veil of darkness. 

In the center of the room shook Azriel, arms trembling as he looked around at the sudden brightness. 

I didn’t know I even gave my feet permission to move until I was collapsing into his lap. I hiccuped a sob so hard I thought my lungs burst open. 

Azriel buried his face into my neck, breath just as ragged. I cried uncontrollably, crushing him with my arms, I’m sure. 

I felt warmth and tenderness encase my body. I felt a tap against my shields and I let them down, welcoming Az’s shadows without a second thought. His thoughts became mine, and vice versa. There wasn’t a part of us in that moment that wasn’t connected. Our minds, our hearts, our souls seemed to tangle in each other. 

It must’ve been a long while before we detangled because everyone had left. 

I, begrudgingly, pulled myself from him, sitting up to look at his tear stained face.

“Don’t you dare do something like that ever again,” I breathed, resting my forehead against his. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be that harsh with Cassian-”

“What?” I asked, brows knitting together. “No no no, not that, whatever the hell that shadow wall was.”

“You’re not mad at me for beating the shit out of Cassian?” He asked, equally as confused.

“Well,” I sighed. “I’m not happy about it, but for the love of the Mother if you ever shut me out like that again, when I break through, I will kill you.”

It was a promise so deep even he knew it was true. He just nodded, kissing both of my cheeks before my lips. 

“I’m sorry, Yn,” a tear trickled down my face. “I saw Cassian choking you and on top of you and it blinded me with a rage so unexplainable. I don’t even remember doing it. It was an afterthought by the time I came out of it. And you looked so infuriated at me I just- I panicked. It had been so quiet for a good while it was like I forgot about the shadows entirely and they took over my being. It was so foreign and strange and they rained down upon me with such vengeance-”

“I know, I know,” I said, combing his hair with my fingers. “We… had a talk. We came to an agreement.”

“Agreement? A bargain?” he asked, a little concerned. 

I shook my head, “no, not a bargain. We just saw eye to eye on things. A favor, I guess you could call it.” I let the words I had once spoken filter into his mind. Azriel had this starry look in his eyes when the words were over with. 

“You talked to the shadows…” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. “H-How did you-”

“Rhys tried to winnow me to you but it must’ve been warded because the next thing that I knew was the wall against my back,” I hissed as his hands crept up my shoulder. His touch was featherlight as he examined, lifting up my shirt to reveal the bruises forming along my spine. 

“Yn… Yn I am so sorry I hurt you…” his eyes feel so dark, I worried for a second that another tempest was coming. 

“No, Azriel look at me,” I grabbed his face between my hands and made him look up at me. “This was not your fault. You and the shadows are not the same thing. You two, like I said, may share the same being, but you are not your shadows. You are Azriel, my Azriel.”

The color came back to his eyes almost instantly. There was a new set of tears in his face as he landed on my chest, arms tightening around my waist. 

“Thank you, Yn… for seeing me, not just the shadows.”

#ally writes #praying that the tags will bring me some traction #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acowar #acotar fandom #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #rhysand #cassian acotar #feyre archeron #writing #writeblr

[captain-lessship]

The Cobains Pt. 2

Soft strumming of a guitar sounded through the home as Kurt played, trying to perfect the sound for his new song. Then the sound of crying stopped him, he sat the guitar down and stood up. As he walked from the office room door, Turnip, now a slightly older cat followed him. 

He rounded the corner to the room that was beside yours and his shared room, he opened the door to the beautiful nursery.

The walls were painted a soft blue and decorated to look like a forest. Yours and his hand prints were used as the varying colors of leaves on the trees and a band of tiny forest bunnies hopping and dancing a dividing the wall. Under the bunnies, it was a soft pale green, a beautiful complimentary color. 

His voice was soothing as he walked to the bassinet, “Hey, Shh, Shh, I’m here.”

He peered over the side of it to see his precious little boy, Erin, whose tears were falling down his face. Kurt tenderly picked him up, “Are you hungry? It’s about time. I was getting a little worried about you, little man.” 

Kurt had been staying home with him while you were working so he knew Erin’s schedule and was keen to keep it. You stayed home with Erin from birth to three months and had worked out with your employer a schedule that would allow you to be home more. 

Kurt had been writing songs and performing closer to home during the first three months of his sons life, now trading out with you, for a almost full time Dad deal.  After Erin’s first birthday, he would be back in the Nirvana front man position.

As he warmed the bottle, Erin watched his fathers actions intently. Kurt noticed.

“You’re so smart, you know that?” He said.

Erin let out a giggle, “Of course you do.” He pressed a kiss to his head. 

Then a jingling caught Kurt’s attention, a wide smile came to his face, “I think she’s home!” 

Turnip ran to the door, egging Kurt to follow him. Kurt checked the bottle to make sure it wasn’t too cold or too hot for his boy before letting his baby begin drinking the milk. He walked into the hallway, just as you closed the door behind you.

“All of my boys!” You exclaimed as you say your bag down, giving a quick pet before moving to Kurt and Erin, who was enjoying his bottle.

You pressed a kiss to Erin’s head, cooing at him, “Hi sweet boy, did you miss me?” 

There was no response. You huffed, “Nine months and eight and a half hour labor for you to prefer your dad.” 

“Oh come on, he’s just hungry. He loves you.” 

“We all have a favorite parent,” you kissed him before laying your head on his free shoulder, your loving gaze fell to Erin. “Almost six months. He’s so precious.”

“It’s crazy how quick he’s growing.” 

You quickly got changed into more comfortable clothes and demanded to hold you baby boy, who you missed all day. 

You were comfortably laying outside on the porch swing, Erin carefully putting his little hands in your hair, gripping it ever so often. 

The sun was beginning to go down and you were enjoying the remainder dark streaks of orange that stained the sky. 

Kurt, who had your legs in his lap, was absentmindedly practicing finger positioning for guitar notes on them. You knew he missed his band and a part of you felt an element of guilt. 

“Kurt?” 

He hummed in response, head turning to look at you.

“I know you’re wanting to play again. Am I right?”

Kurt always was honest but for the first time in a long time, he found himself not wanting to be. He loved you and he loved Erin but he missed playing. He played better when he was happy and now he was. He was so happy, he didn’t know what to do with it but play.

“You are. But are you two going to be okay if go back to playing?” 

“Let’s see,” you tapped your chin with your pointer finger, “Staying home, not having to deal with costumers, taking care of the cutest kid in the world… I think I’d be fine.”

“What about him?” Kurt asked, hand going to Erin’s back, rubbing it gently.

“As for him, I think he’ll be okay. Just no skipping holidays and birthdays. But,” you looked at the very sleepy baby, “Promise me that he’ll come first, even before me. Promise me that before I say a full yes.”

Kurt thought about it until the sky was a cold dark blue and stars began to twinkle, “I promise.” 

You kissed Erin’s cheek repeatedly, getting a laugh out him as you carefully dressed him in his fox pajamas. You smiled brightly at him as you lifted him up and began to rock him, hoping to at least get him half asleep before you put him in the bassinet.

Kurt was watching from the door way, admiring how easily you got him to fall asleep. Kurt chalked it up to Erin enjoying your heartbeat more.

You carefully pulled the door almost closed, leaving about three inches open. Kurt immediately looped his arms around you, letting his head rest on your shoulder. “Let’s go to bed.” He whispered and you tiredly obliged.

The big comfortable bed seemed to swallow you as you laid down and Kurt pulled the quilt over you. You rolled over to face him.

“Hello pretty lady.” He said, voice softly lulling you closer to sleep.

His fingers gently carded through your hair, gracing your scalp with faint scratches. “I love you.” You mumbled out before sleep over took you.

“I love you too.”

#fanfic writing #fanfic #romance #kurt cobain #kurt cobain x reader #nirvana #x reader #fanfiction #female reader #parenting

[thatmcgwords]

Jim Rohn’s My Philosophy for Successful

The way you look at life plays a pivotal role in shaping your present and your future. That’s why it’s of utmost significance to have the right kind of philosophy to propel you forward.

But here’s something to blow your mind: you’re making less not because of your taxes, company, or city – you’re making less because of your thinking. Your philosophy of living holds the power to determine your financial status. It’s this philosophy that fuels your decisions and actions and ultimately brings about changes in your life.

means taking matters into your own hands rather than wasting your time and energy waiting for the government or your company to act. That’s what the philosophy of performance and productivity is all about

When you improve yourself, you set the stage for wealth to naturally follow suit.

According to the philosophy of performance and productivity, formal education can only get you as far as landing a job. If you want to feast on financial success, then you should focus on self-education. Continuously improve yourself until you become a treasure trove of knowledge and skills, someone so valuable that people can’t resist showering you with cash.

Start by seeking out a mentor. They can help you break free from your excuse-based thinking and shift your mindset to the philosophy of performance and productivity

Trends come and go, new technologies emerge, and demands change over time. Sooner or later, one or more of your skills will become obsolete. But with your diverse repertoire, you’ll always have an ace up your sleeve.

In addition to leadership skills, being an effective communicator should also be on top of your list. It’s not just about being able to express your needs and expectations eloquently, though. It’s also about speaking more than one language. This offers you an edge over your monolingual peers and consequently increases your value, too.

One of those fundamentals is to embrace the belief that profits outweigh wages in terms of growing your finances. Unfortunately, relying on wages alone won't make you rich. But you don’t need to give up your steady wage to rely on profits full-time. You can do both. 

Even the best engines need fine-tuning every once in a while. The same is true for your philosophy of living. It needs a little tinkering now and then to match your lifestyle and goals and give you the best results

Experiences are teachers, offering valuable insights on how to navigate life’s opportunities and pitfalls. Leverage these insights to improve yourself and better your understanding of the financial world

Every once in a while, you need to pause and evaluate how far you’ve come from the starting point and how far you still have to go to reach the finish line. Not only does this energize you to push through but it also allows you to see whether your strategies are working or not.

Learn to build personal accountability and keep your milestones both attainable and challenging.

Step two: treasure your connections with others. Steer clear of the “me” mentality and surround yourself with friends who impact your life in positive ways.

Step three: value your roots. It won’t hurt to look back and appreciate the history and heritage of those who came before you.

Step four: nurture your spiritual well-being. Spirituality and beliefs are the glue that holds communities together. It’s essential to make time to explore and study these beliefs to keep you connected with society.

Step five: establish a close-knit circle of trusted family and friends. These are the people who you run to when the going gets tough. They’re your shoulders to cry on, and you can count on them to keep you inspired.

And finally, step six: take action and let God handle the rest. God can do all sorts of miraculous things in your life, but before he can do so, you need to initiate the change first. Take action by improving yourself, then allow God to take care of the rest.

#blinkist #jim rohn

[blzzrdstryr]

Like a fairy tale

Yandere!Diluc x maid!fem!reader

Wordcount: 1921

CW: Yandere and slightly suggestive themes.

You loved reading fairy tales as a child - they were magical and hopeful, a needed retreat for a child of destitute parents. They were a promise that if you were good and kind and beautiful enough, eventually some faraway prince would come by and save you from poverty. And you tried to be good - you were obedient and hardworking and you pushed your hardest in the local school, yet hardship and scarcity still trailed your every step - the meager earnings your parents made weren't enough to buy you nice clothes or let you eat until you were sated, which in turn made social interactions harder: some kids sneered and humiliated you, some tried to help you out of pity. You disliked both groups: whether they were friendly or aggressive towards you, they still looked down on you.

Thus you decided to distance yourself from your peers - there was no knight in shining armour galloping towards you on a snow white steed, yet a good education could be your golden ticket to a better rich life. It was hard at first - to work and to study and to help your parents all while ignoring the demeaning and insulting comments the bullies made, but you gritted your teeth and pushed forward, imagining how wealthy you’ll become in the future and in the end our efforts were rewarded - you graduated as the best student, that led you to receiving a scholarship from Sumeru academy. Sparks and shine appeared in your eyes as you read the letter, barely stopping yourself from outright squealing and jumping from joy.

The moment of happiness didn’t last long though, as a reality again reminded you that there’s no place for fairy tales in the real world - scholarship covered the full cost of apprenticeship, but only it - you still had to spend money on the journey from Mondstadt to Sumeru, a place to rent and food, and if you still could find a job after your arrival in the foreign country and pay off the later two, trip required mora that you never had. At first you had a mad idea to traverse Teyvat on your own two feet - it would be a slow and arduous process, but cheap nonetheless. You later gave up on this plan - archons didn’t give you any vision, nor did you have fighting and travelling experience to aid you on the trail that no doubt would be full of slimes, hilichurls and other dangerous monsters.

And that’s how you started job hunting - you took on any work that promised you a hefty pay, be it some boring reports for guild of adventurers or an exciting yet risky endeavor of getting information for an extravagant cavalry captain, which then led you to Dawn Winery. Head housemaid, Adelinde, posted a job opening for a maid, and the prospect of a stable salary, free food and comfortable bed was enough to lure you in there - two or three years ago the previous owner of the winery died in the accident and his successor left Mond for some reason, leaving the maintenance and management of the winery on the shoulders of the said housemaid.

After a quick interview, the head maid demanded you to show her your cleaning skills, which you effortlessly did, having to look after the house by yourself all your childhood. It seems she was satisfied, as she nodded to you and asked to follow her as she led you to your room. Compared to the other two maids here, Hillie and Moco, who preferred to spend their work time in idle chat, you came off as highly professional and diligent worker. This contrast raised both your position and salary in the winery, as Adelinde started to entrust you with tasks more interesting than simple sweeping and cleaning.

You were outside the winery the day you met Diluc - returning from the city and carrying several stacks of milk and wheat you got chased by the hilichurls. Monsters didn’t leave you, no matter how long and how far you ran. You were ready to drop all the goods and have Adelinde to scold you for wastefulness and dereliction when Ragnvindr appeared and stole a breath from you. He looked just like the prince from your childhood tales, impossibly pretty and strong, arriving just when the creatures caught up with you and then defeating all of them with a single slash of great claymore. And just like a fairytale prince he helped you to get up and collect the scattered baggage and asked if you were okay. Then you two headed for the winery, you didn't know that he was it's owner at the time, chatting and thanking him, as he carried purchases. Adelinde almost fainted when she saw the return of the prodigal master in your company. After hastily taking goods from his hands, she made you apologize for rudeness and insubordination, but Diluc interrupted you saying it was fine.

Ragnvindr heir returned back to the winery and life went on its own, except the unreadable glares Diluc started to send you when you both were in the same room. It started off small: the quick glances that soon grew into intense staring. With his impassive stone face it was impossible to tell why he was glaring at you so much, so you acted as polite and professional as you could in his vicinity - after all you didn’t want to get fired and look for a new job. The key to this riddle presented itself during one day.

It was a bleak windy morning when Adelinde sent you to the city again, and as you walked the sky darkened and rain started. You returned absolutely soaked and shivering, teeth chattering and limbs slightly numb from cold and when Diluc saw you he ordered you to change in a low commanding voice. Frightened by the possible dismissal, you hurried putting on the uniform. Because of the haste you pulled it too tightly, hiking up a maid dress a little. It wasn’t up enough to reveal your hips or thighs, showing just a portion of knees that was usually hidden by the wide skirt.

Diluc’s eyes were glued on the uncovered joints, a subtle blush appearing on his pale cheeks. You continued to work, feeling how he consumed your legs with his eyes alone. He is lusting after me. You didn't know what to do with that revelation back then, embarrassed and slightly scared of attracting master Diluc's attention.

Nonetheless, an answer quickly came on the next day as you found a bonus to your salary, so big that it could be considered a payment for the next month. Diluc, despite his usually impassive face, seemed to be ashamed of the thoughts he had yesterday, with the body language telling you of his true feelings.

A plan came to mind. You hated yourself for it at first - it was low and disgraceful, you felt like a stereotypical manipulative gold digger, yet still decided to realize it in life - you needed mora, as fast and as much as possible. Over the time you spent working at the Dawn winery you noticed that Diluc, despite his obviously high intelligence, wasn't really good at judging one’s character, so he fell for your scheme pretty easily. Design you had in mind was pretty simple - to stir him up with small, innocuous gestures and changes that would slip past the outsider’s eyes.

Sometimes you applied a thin layer of healing lip balm on your lips, that so conveniently happened shine and glitter under the light, sometimes you donned your dress a little bit higher, opening the view of two delicate knees and sometimes after cleaning and working all day you felt so hot that you had to unfasten one or two buttons to cool off. Diluc, despite not showing it on his face, was obviously distracted and aroused, hands clenched into fists and a shaky, barely controlled exhale escaping his nose.

He started to pile you with bonuses and prizes; “for a well done job”, he said one time, averting his gaze and masking the shame in his voice under a huff. He also started to request you to specifically clean the rooms he occupied, his eyes sizing up almost every inch of your body. You felt how the lust and desire radiated off him, how his hands itched to trace your skin and have you at his mercy, yet he stopped every time with his steel strong control and self-discipline. You sensed how it dwindled little by little.

Diluc, in some perverted sense, was that fair prince of your childhood daydreams that would save you from poverty.

You almost had saved up the needed amount of money when you noticed the loss of your most cherished possession - an invitation to the Sumeru academy and scholarship certificate. With heart booming in your chest you started to look for it in the whole winery, without giving out that you were searching for something. It seems that you were unsuccessful in your attempts, as master of the winery soon called you into the office.

Here, he was sitting behind the desk with a familiar paper in his hand - your eyes widened as you saw it and you had an urge to run up to him and snatch the invitation from him. You performed a curtsy instead, closing the door behind you and waiting for him to speak, eyes still on the sheet in Diluc’s hold.

“[First], you are a diligent and skillful employee, Adelinde has a very high opinion of you” he started from afar, a slight rosy blush dusting his cheeks at "skillful employee".

"So as your employer I wouldn't want any harm to befall on your person, and" he shaked the invitation a couple of times, "it came to my attention that you were planning on travelling to Sumeru. I advise you against this nonsensical idea".

You gritted teeth, careful not to insult him with the couple of barbed words at the tip of your tongue. Nonsensical idea? This was your goal, a main reason why you worked so much and allowed yourself so little.

“I am sorry, master Diluc, I am afraid I can’t abandon this idea”, you say, response flat and controlled, a thunderstorm of emotions hidden beneath the faux calm, “It is my goal, and the main reason why I work here”. So I can have a bright and secure future, in which I won’t have to worry about the tomorrow ever again.

“I also learned that you were born into a low income family and you had to struggle in your life because of that ” a sudden mention of your less than glorious origin makes your face burn from the shame you thought you buried a long time ago. You are stunned, so he continues: “I believe this little endeavor of yours is also motivated by your desire for a stable future. Drop it, I travelled all across the Teyvat and there are horrors that can easily destroy you both in body and spirit”.

He stands up from the desk, and gets closer to you: “I can look after and provide for you, just stay there and you won’t have to worry about the future again ”. His hold on the paper gets tighter, pyro vision shining with a dangerous glint. A faint smell of smoke spreads through the room - a warning if you remain stubborn and unyielding.

Who could have known that the fair prince was a greedy dragon all along?

#yandere genshin impact #Yandere genshin #yandere diluc x reader #Yandere diluc #Yandere genshin impact x reader #Yandere genshin x reader #Yandere #Diluc #Yandere x reader #my writing

[drabbles-of-writing]

You’ll Be Okay

AO3

fourth owl fight attack! This one’s prompt was “Hunter and Luz being siblings” and I went a whole Direction with it

Summary: The Emperor was defeated. Amongst the ruins of a half-destroyed castle, Luz finds Hunter. While waiting for the others to find them, Hunter's shields finally fall apart. After all, at the end of the day, he was just a kid.

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

Luz found Hunter in the wreckage of the Emperor’s Castle, using his staff (the one that had Rascal perched atop, not the other, artificial staff. That one had been snapped in two) to support himself, his other hand clutching his side.

“There you are!” She breathed, rushing forward.

Hunter flinched at the noise and whirled around, lifting his staff to aim it before falling over at the lack of support. He hissed and curled up on the ground, eyes squeezed shut.

Luz faltered for a moment before continuing towards him, albeit much slower and cautiously now.

“Hunter?” She called, crouched down low.

He cracked open a wild, unfocused eye. It took a moment till it landed on her, and a few more until she could start to see him process who she was.

“Hey,” He croaked, slowly raising his head. “I was beginning to think I’d gotten rid of you for good.” He chuckled, before he was wracked with coughs and curled back in on himself.

“Oh please, you’ll have to try way harder than that.” Luz huffed, though the forced teasing in her tone didn’t work much. “Are you…okay?”

“Take a wild guess,” Hunter muttered, bracing one hand on the ground as the other stayed wrapped around his side.

And yeah, in hindsight, he really wasn’t. His white cloak was ratty and torn all over, the piece of under armor he often used barely hanging on by one strap. He was covered in gashes, bruises, grime, and who-knows-what. His breathing was ragged and raspy, and she figured that, yeah, when one is used as a living portal-booster they aren’t going to come out of it okay.

“Alright, fair, bad question.” Luz admitted, inching closer and placing a hand on his leg. “You need any help?”

“If I say no,” Hunter wheezed, eyeing her hand for a moment. “You’ll help me anyway.”

“Yeah,” Luz shrugged. “But it’s polite to ask.”

“Never stopped you before,” He rasped with the faintest of smiles, slowly leaning back until he was flat on the ground, staring up at the sky.

“Need a minute?” Luz asked, scooting until she was sitting right beside him.

“Or three,” Hunter agreed, shutting his eyes. “Everything kinda hurts.”

“Then rest, someone will find us eventually.” Luz assured. “I…may have run off to find you when I realized you weren’t with the others.” She admitted sheepishly, rubbing her neck.

“If they accuse me of kidnapping, I’ll break your shins.” Hunter threatened, though his tone never changed, and his eyes stayed shut.

“Understood,” Luz smiled, watching as Rascal transformed back into his usual self, chirping as he settled himself on Hunter’s stomach.

And the two remained silent for what felt like hours, though Luz was willing to bet it had been no more than ten minutes. She just looked out at the rubble around them, aching all over as a light wind breezed by. Had she not seen Hunter’s ear flicking periodically with the wind tickling it, she probably would’ve thought he’d died then. His breathing barely even disturbed Rascal, which she had to wonder if he was doing on purpose or not.

“When are you leaving?”

Luz blinked, turning her head down, finding Hunter had cracked open a single eye and was peering up at her.

“Huh?”

“The portal, you went through all this trouble to go back to the human realm, right?” He said. “So, when are you leaving?”

“Oh, uh,” Luz swallowed, shoving down the memory of standing before blinding car lights, reaching for a hand she phased right through. “I...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Hunter repeated, giving her an incredulous look. “You went through all this trouble--”

“Okay, in my defense, this goes a little beyond getting the portal back, there were other reasons.” Luz said, waving her arms to the ruins around them.

“Still,” Hunter braced his arms under him, grunting with the effort as he pushed himself upright, disturbing Rascal. “Last I checked, the portal’s fine. How come you’re not making a beeline for it?”

“Uh, because I need to make sure my friends are okay?” Luz said, like this was the most obvious thing in the world, which, really, it should’ve been. “I’m not gonna leave right away. I need a day or two to make sure everyone's alright and figure out what they’re gonna do now.”

“Go back to normal?” Hunter raised a brow.

“An entire government was just dismantled, Hunter.” Luz deadpanned. “My fantasy books never really got to the part of explaining how they fixed a toppled tyrannical way of ruling, but knowing the Boiling Isles, I doubt this is gonna be easy.”

“Let the people good with politics handle that,” Hunter said casually, slumping back down on the ground and throwing an arm over his face. “They’re not gonna listen to a teenage human and her band of misfits for a new government, anyway.”

“Lilith might be good at figuring that out,” Luz hummed, ignoring him. “She has experience. Raine, too, technically.”

“If you put Lilith in charge, every witch and demon in the Isles will riot in the street.” 

“We’re not putting her in charge,” Luz stressed, appalled at the thought. “Just guiding people. See? This is why I need to stay for a little bit, I gotta know what's gonna happen!”

“Do you actually want to go back, or was this all a game of keepsies?” Hunter muttered.

“Of course I--I’m not arguing with you, you’re wounded.” Luz said stubbornly, crossing her arms.

“I'm not in that bad of shape."

“Really now,” Luz said drawled, reaching out a hand towards his chest before Hunter batted it away.

"You trying to hurt me more?" Hunter grumbled, rolling onto his side and wincing with the movement.

"I don't think you could get any more hurt if you tried." Luz deadpanned.

“I’ve had worse than this.” Hunter wheezed out, Rascal fluttering around him anxiously.

“Worse than a living portal puppet...thing?” Luz lifted a brow disbelievingly.

“...alright, fair,” Hunter sighed, a wheezing, noisy one as he shook his head. “This is probably the worst. New record.”

“I don’t want to know what the old record was.” Luz cringed as Hunter rolled onto his back once more, wincing with the movement. “You think the worst of it came from the portal, or being thrown around like a ragdoll by an eldritch abomination?”

“Portal thing,” Hunter said, eyes shut. “I’m used to…” He trailed off, mouth clicking shut as he refused to finish the sentence.

Used to Belos, Luz reasoned, was likely where he was going with that. She gazed at him sadly, his hands clenched into fists over his stomach now, Rascal nudging at his shoulder.

“He didn’t make it, right?” Hunter asked softly, and she didn’t ask him to clarify who.

“I don’t think so, we didn’t find anything.” Luz answered. “We could go check where we last saw him...if you’d like.”

“...later,” Hunter sighed, raising his hands to press the heels of them up against his eyes, fingers gripping his hair. “I don’t wanna think about it much right now.”

“I’m,” Luz started, fiddling with her sleeve. “I’m sorry, about all this.” She said, because she didn’t know what else she could say.

“No, you’re not.” Hunter scoffed bitterly. “You’re glad it’s over.”

“I am,” Luz agreed. “That doesn’t mean I’m still not sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you, I get it.” Hunter said, agonizingly gently. “I don’t need your pity.”

“I’m not--Dios,” Luz muttered as she ran a hand over her face. “Me olvidé de lo reprimido que estabas. You are my friend,” Luz shoved lightly at his shoulder, and he jerked and raised one hand away to give her an offended look. “And as your friend, should the stars align, I am sorry that this terrible situation happened to you, because I care about your well being.” She said, perhaps a few notches more aggressively than intended.

“...I’m your friend?” Hunter blinked, removing his other hand.

“Yes! Yes, you’re my friend! Are we seriously still on that page?” Luz demanded, almost yanking at her hair. She raised a hand when he opened his mouth to speak. “If you start protesting about all the times you were a jerk to me before you switched sides, I’m going to hit you.”

“...you have a very mean way of expressing concern.” Hunter settled on, voice small.

“Because you,” Luz poked at his forehead and got a growl in return. “Can’t get it through your thick head that other people can care about you. Newsflash, buddy. Eda’s already talking to Hooty about making another room for you.”

“She what--”

“So I’m sorry that the castle is destroyed, and I’m sorry that your uncle is gone, because you cared about him.” Luz continued before he could butt-in. “And about that whole...Grimwalker thing, which is a whole other pile of messed up things, but you get the point.” She waved her hands around. “You...you deserved better.” She finally finished, realizing she’d sat up at one point to face him, and now leaned back on her knees.

Hunter stared at her for a moment, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly. Rascal had crawled his way up and onto his shoulder now, looking between the two of them.

Eventually, the tension left his body, and he lay on his side, cheek pressed into the dirty, rocky ground. Rascal jolted, fluttering up onto his head.

“He was awful,” Hunter mumbled, like he was trying to convince someone.

“I know,” Luz sighed, looking down at him. “But you loved him.” She said, and Hunter didn’t dispute it. 

“...m’sorry,” Hunter got out, which sounded like a shuttering gasp, as though his throat was closing up.

“What for?” Luz tilted her head.

“You want the list?” Hunter managed, his snark falling short as he rapidly blinked his eyes. “I’d ask why you care at all, but you’re Luz.” He said, shaking his head slightly. “You’re too nice for your own good.”

“It worked out this time, didn’t it?” Luz said, offering a tiny smile as she held out a hand, just short of touching him.

He eyed her hand for a moment, then his gaze flicked across her face, searching. He must’ve seen something, because the little resolve he had left broke, and he reached for Luz’s hand and gripped onto it far more forcefully than needed.

She hoisted him upright, and barely had a moment to spare until he was grabbing onto her, hands fisted in the back of her shirt as he pressed his face into her shoulder. She froze for just a moment before she returned the hug, forcing herself not to protest against the tight grip along her back, definitely going to form nasty bruises later.

She saw that the white of his cloak was covered in dirt and blood all across his back, from injuries he must’ve sustained, though most of it looked dried now. She wondered if it hurt for him to lay on his back like that, and avoided disturbing those wounds as he trembled in her arms.

He shook with cries that were barely choked back, and she pressed the side of her face against his head. Rascal warbled sadly and nuzzled into his head from where he was perched in his hair.

Luz murmured words she couldn’t remember for the life of her, rubbing small circles across the uninjured parts of his back. He only pressed closer, clinging desperately like she’d vanish if he didn’t, and Luz had to put in effort to not fall back.

It might’ve been a few minutes, it might’ve been longer, but gradually, Hunter ran out of steam. His strained cries became muffled sniffles, slumping against Luz like dead weight.

“Sorry,” Hunter hiccupped again, voice muffled against her shoulder. “I think I got your cloak dirty.”

“It was already pretty messy.” Luz assured. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Hunter muffled, hunching his shoulders. 

“Okay,” Luz said simply. “We’ve got time.”

“And ain’t that a new concept,” Hunter mumbled, raising his head slightly to instead rest his chin on top of Luz’s shoulder, and she could already feel him wiping at his face. “Having time. I didn’t think I’d make it past nineteen, if I was lucky.” He sniffled, voice hoarse and raspy.

“That…” Luz frowned. “Yeah, we’re gonna make you see someone for all of that.”

“Make me?” Hunter repeated, a faint, fading amusement to his tone.

“We have our ways.” Luz said with a hint of pride. “You’d be surprised.”

Hunter remained quiet for a moment, and Luz watched the old, ripped tapestries in the rubble wave when the wind went by them. She wondered if Eda would be stealing any of those as a trophy, and how long it’d take before Lilith took it away from her.

“Are you going to come back?” Hunter asked, quietly, curiously, without any hint of pleading in his tone, which she was quite impressed by. The subtle grip around her sides tightening just an inch gave him away, though.

“Of course,” Luz said, not needing clarification on what he had meant. “I couldn’t leave this place forever, not even if I wanted to.” She said, and prayed she wasn't lying.

“Yeah, you couldn’t.” Hunter snorted, slowly pulling back as he wiped up the last of his face, though it was still pretty damp as he faced Luz. “They’d be insufferable trying to get you back.” He said, frazzled hair hanging into his eyes.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t put in an effort, then?” Luz scoffed good-naturedly. “Can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?”

“Well now how am I supposed to respond to that?” Hunter demanded in a whine. “I say yes, and you start getting melodramatic and bringing up pointless random acts of kindness like I’m a liar. I say no, and you get all starry-eyed and unbearable.” He complained.

Luz laughed, despite it all. Hunter rolled his eyes and sat back, looking up at Rascal on his head like they were in on some joke she was missing. He chuckled along with her and shook his head, ears twitching down.

“You’re impossible,” He huffed, though he bore a smile.

“I know,” Luz grinned. “And what’s it say about you, still caring anyway?”

“Don’t push it.” Hunter warned, shoving her shoulder as he leaned further back, her only giggling in response.

A call sounded off in the distance, and they both snapped their heads in the direction of the sound. Hunter’s ears pricked high, the sudden shift in personality from relaxed to alert being another slightly alarming thing to put on Luz’s list of traits Hunter had. 

The call sounded again, and Luz could recognize the sound of Eda’s voice. She smiled and stood, untangling herself from Hunter as she peered out at the terrain, seeing a figure off in the distance, and if she squinted enough, she could see a few more not too far away.

“Over here!” Luz shouted, hands cupped around her mouth.

“Ow,” Hunter winced, rubbing at his ears.

“Oh, are they sensitive?” Luz worried, lowering her voice.

“Just a bit, I think I had a concussion earlier.” Hunter said, shaking his head to clear it.

“You’re seeing a healer,” Luz said firmly, looking back out to the figures in the distance. “Cover your ears.”

Hunter grumbled something about Luz being dramatic, covering his ears as Luz continued waving her hands and hollering to the others. It took a moment, but she saw one of them break away before the others followed suit, and Eda’s wild nest of hair could be recognizable from anywhere.

“Are you ready to make formal introductions?” Luz grinned down at Hunter, who slowly drew his hands away from his ears.

“Do I have to?” Hunter whined. “I could just live off the land, making a tent isn’t that hard. I know how to steal.”

“Nice try,” Luz lightly pushed at his head. “Unless you’ve got a proper living space, you’re staying in the Owl House.”

“I’m sixteen, no place in Bonesborough will give me an apartment unless I’m rich.” Hunter complained.

“Precisely,” Luz said simply, offering a hand to him. “Wanna try standing up?”

“I guess,” Hunter grumbled, taking her hand and letting her pull him to his feet.

He stumbled for a moment, hissing and favoring his right foot, and would’ve fallen right back over if Luz didn’t stop his fall with her body, hanging onto his arm to steady him.

“Yeah, that’s sprained. Or twisted, don’t really feel like checking.” Hunter gritted out, Rascal cheeping from his head before flying off, transforming into a staff that Hunter was quick to grab and then lean on, taking his weight off Luz.

“Viney can take a look at it, I’m pretty sure she came with us.” Luz said, grabbing Hunter’s hand and slinging it over her shoulder. “C’mon, let’s meet them halfway. You’re lighter than a sack of lumpy potatoes, it’s not hard to carry you.”

“I resent that,” Hunter growled, though he let her do as she wished. “You're just weirdly strong.”

“You live in the Boiling Isles, you're telling me you're not?” Luz scoffed, beginning to walk with Hunter, who used his staff occasionally to push aside heaps of rock or try and limp himself along.

“Well, I don’t exactly have a frame of reference.” Hunter drawled, looking up, his ears pinning back against his head when he could make out who was approaching in the distance. Luz could now see that King was sitting atop Eda’s shoulder, too.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Luz said, noting Hunter’s nerves suddenly spiking. “Are you ready to meet everyone, outside of, you know, portal mishaps?” 

Hunter swallowed, looking down at Luz with something that might’ve been fear swirling in his eyes. He searched her face, closing his eyes and taking in half a breath, anything more causing him to cough, exhaling as he opened his eyes again, facing off towards where the others were gathered, the fear replaced with determination.

“Yeah,” He said, clearing his throat when his voice started to shake. “Yeah, I think so.”

Luz smiled, bumping her body against his, and he looked at her with a smile of his own that might just have been hopeful.

She turned back to call a greeting to her friends as Eda was already scolding her for running off the moment she was in earshot, King wailing something about being worried. Hunter gave them his best crooked smile, despite his earlier claims, insisting she’d only come to drag him out of the rubble.

Yeah, Luz thought as she watched Eda and King pause and look Hunter over, easily slipping into mocking him for how beat up he looked, like nothing had ever gone sideways, and it was any other day in the Isles. They’d be okay.

#the owl house #toh #toh hunter #hunter #luz noceda #golden guard #the golden guard #luz #siblings #hunter and luz are siblings #emperor belos #belos #my writing #writing #light angst #happy ending #haha. luz lying to make sure everyone else stays happy and that t h e y would be okay instead of worrying about herself #pain #talking #injuries #angst #fics #ao3 #hurt comfort #tears #he gets a hug does that make it better

[cherryyharryy]

please write something about Harry overhearing the reader’s friend tell her that Harry doesn’t spend time with her that she deserves someone better they hang up b4 the reader can say anything like angst to fluff

Thank you for requesting!

This is 80's harry lol

WC: 2.4K

Harry pauses the music on his Walkman, slipping the headphones off his ears to rest around his neck while he fiddles with the key to his apartment.

She had spent the night—his angel. It had been quite the set up, since she still lives at home with her parents while finishing college, a little white lie was passed around to cover her absence. Harry wasn’t a secret by any means, but her parents weren’t the most open minded, and a small fib was easier to handle than trying to rehash the same discussion of y/n being a grown woman. It was hard enough for her to get their approval for college...one mountain at a time.

Harry’s ears burn as he sets the groceries down in the kitchen, the thought of her still tangled up in his sheets beckoning him back to his room, is enough to drive him wild. He doesn’t catch himself zoning out until the phone rings. He untangles his music off his shoulders and yanks the phone off the wall, but y/n has beat him to it, her soft morning voice greeting Caroline before Harry can utter a word.

His brain is too slow in making the connection that he should hang up. That he shouldn’t eavesdrop on his girlfriend’s private conversation. That he owes her the respect that her parents never give her. But he hears his name, specifically, he hears Caroline ask y/n how last night was, so the phone stays glued to his ear.

“Amazing,” she purrs, and Harry’s stomach flips. “We did it like, three times.”

The girls giggle, and Harry shuffles on his feet with a veiny blush spreading all over his body. He can imagine y/n draped in his sheets, phone cord wrapped around her fingers, just a few steps away from him

“Better be nothing short of amazing,” Caroline says, “with what little time he gives you anyway. Ugh, if Tony ever left me hanging as often as Harry, I’d dump him so fast.” She smacks her gum into the phone and Harry flinches. “He tried to ditch me one time to go see Scarface with Rob, and I was like, hell no, you’re taking me skating like you promised. Honestly y/n, you can do better. You’re surrounded by college boys, go find a future doctor.”

The phone almost slips from Harry’s hand, but he catches it and hangs it back on the wall, just in time for his entire world to start crumbling to his feet.

Did he really not spend enough time with y/n?

How long has this been a topic shared between them?

And why hasn’t she said anything before?

Harry stands in the middle of his kitchen, immobilized. He can’t lose her, especially not to something he can fix. She’s been his girl since they were sixteen, there’s too much history between them, or so he thought.

He files through the memories he has of them together, trying to quantify them, trying to see where he started slipping.

Maybe it’s when he took over his dad’s business? But she knew how demanding it would be, and always supported him. Or maybe it’s because they don’t go out as much? Between him managing an appliance store, and her working towards a bachelors, they often opt for nights on the couch watching SNL reruns.

His mind is foggy, and he doesn’t catch his bedroom door creaking open.

“H?”

Harry startles back to present, gripping the counter as y/n emerges from his room wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“You okay? Look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“Mm, no, fine.”

“I heard you come in a bit ago.” She flicks her eyes over his kitchen, looking for the breakfast he had promised to make almost an hour ago.

“Didn’t want to be too loud.”

“Oh, alright.” She smiles, attempting to diffuse whatever awkward tension has settled in his home. “Well, cook away! I can help too.”

He grabs her wrist before she reaches the fridge. “No, I’ll make it for you. Go back to bed.”

“You sure?”

He nods, forcing a smile.

She peers back over her shoulder twice on her walk back to his room, hoping to figure out what’s going on, but learns nothing.

As soon as his door shuts, Harry flies around his kitchen, grabbing what he needs to make the fastest breakfast in the world.

He’s going to spend every free second he has with her, and doesn’t want to waste any if he doesn’t have to.

***

Harry knows he’s borderline annoying. And he knows his actions are beginning to appear creepy, if not bizarre. He tags along with y/n everywhere she goes now, even at the doctor where he almost followed her back to her exam. She gently placed her hands on his chest and told him that she would rather the doctor do the job, promising she’d be out in no time.

She’s been tiptoeing around him too, not sure what to make of his new routine of gluing himself to her side, hoping it will wear off and things will go back to normal.

But she waits and she waits, and normal never resurfaces.

“H, baby, I can’t concentrate with you so close to me.”

Harry looks offended, slipping his reading glasses off his nose and closing the book he was halfway through, giving her his full attention when he asks what she means.

Y/n peers around the library, not wanting to have this discussion so publicly, but too keyed up to wait any longer. “I’ve just noticed that you’ve...been a little clingy lately? More like a lot.”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“You’re picking me up, and walking me to my classes—”

“Thought that was nice?”

“You don’t even go to this school. Listen, the sentiment is nice, but I’m starting to feel a little suffocated.”

Harry bites his cheek so hard he draws blood. “And what did Caroline have to say about that?”

“What?”

“I’m sure that nosy friend of yours had a lot to say about me when you brought this up.”

“Excuse me!”

“Quiet, please,” one of the staff members shushes y/n, “Or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Y/n ignores the snickers from a table of girls nearby, recoiling her embarrassment and turning it to anger. Her voice, although lowered, now drags out of her mouth in sharp tones. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard everything, that morning Caroline called my phone to talk to you about how crummy of a boyfriend I am.”

That morning, now a month ago, is hardly a memory in y/n’s head. She fights around for details of the conversation, but comes up empty handed. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, I don’t care.” She starts closing all her books and gathering her school work to shove into her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Harry blinks, fumbling for his next question as y/n hurries across the library. He’s quick to catch up with her, waiting until they’re outside where they don’t have to whisper. “Don’t walk, I have my car.”

He reaches for her shoulder but she shrugs it off. “I’m going home. My home, not yours.”

Harry freezes on the sidewalk. She continues on her way until she disappears around the building. A few students yell out at Harry, making fun of the guy who, from a distance, just got rejected. He flips them off and heads to his car, beating the steering wheel all the way back to his apartment.

***

“You’ve been studying an awful lot lately,” y/n’s dad comments from across the dinner table. “Do you have a big test coming up?”

“Hm?”

“You spend the night with Rayna almost every weekend.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. We have a lot of tests.” Y/n spoons a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth, thankful neither of her parents went to college. It’s allowed for more stretched lies when she sleeps over at Harry’s. “Like a lot. Every week.”

Her mother hums from her seat, nodding to save her spot in the conversation while she finishes chewing. “We told you how hard it would be. But you wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s not—” “Shelly’s daughter just got a job as a receptionist, over at that dental office by the mattress store.” Her dad points at y/n with his fork. “You could ask her if she knows of any other places looking for a girl.”

“I’m not going to have a job where the requirement is girl.”

“You’re taking this too liberally, dear. Oh Lord, John, that school did just what you said.”

“No—”

“That’s what happens, girls go off to try and get a degree...and what for? What are you going to do when you get married and have kids?”

“Kids!?”

Her mom scoffs. “Well you’re not going to be able to raise children and work.”

“Are you two serious right now? It’s 1985, not fifty-five! Women go to college, they work, some of them don’t even get married! Or have kids!”

“When you were little you couldn’t wait to be a mom. Now all of a sudden you’ve changed your mind. That never would have happened if we hadn’t let you go off to that damn school.”

“Yes I’ve changed my mind! If it hadn’t been for that school, I never would have realized that it’s my own mind to change. It’s my own life to do whatever I want with, not yours.”

“Well I am—” Her dad is interrupted by the door bell echoing outside the kitchen. “One minute. We’re not done with this yet.”

Muffled voices stagger from the front door while y/n pushes the food around her plate. She hopes that whoever is at the door keeps her dad busy for a while. She knows her mom won’t have these types of conversations without him, which just showcases the lifestyle she is adamantly trying to avoid. One that was passed down to her parents, but y/n is determined to squeeze herself out of that narrative no matter what.

“Y/n!” her dad calls, “you have a visitor.”

Y/n peers up at her mom, both women exchanging confused glances before they go see who had arrived.

“Oh,” y/n says dully, “It’s you.”

Harry stands with his hands shoved into jacket pockets, peering at each family member before speaking. “Hey, uh, I was hoping we could talk. Privately.”

Y/n nods, and leads the way back through the kitchen to the back porch. She’s not really in the mood to be talking to him, or having this conversation, but right now he’s a free ticket away from her parents, so she accepts.

They sit halfway down the steps, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. Her on the right, him on the left. Usually his arm is thrown over her shoulder, and their knees bump together until Harry pulls her in so close that not even a breeze could fit between them, but now they’re both collected on their respective sides of the wooden step.

“Heard the new Prince song?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “It’s been a week.”

“Exactly, a lot’s happened in a week. Prince came out with a new song, Michael Jordan’s rookie of the year, and there’s gonna be a Rocky four.”

“Did you come over to talk about everyone else’s good news?”

Harry sighs. “We’ve never gone a week without talking. Ever.”

“Well you really hurt my feelings.” She turns to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I mean, you don’t even trust me, so you listen in on my phone calls—”

“That’s not—no. I picked up when you did.”

“But you still listened.”

“Okay yeah, but only because I heard my name.” He shrugs, a timid smile playing on his lips. “Wanted to hear what you thought about me.”

“I tell you what I think all the time. I’ve never kept my feelings secret from you.”

“It’s different.” He pulls his hands from his pockets and runs them through his hair, tugging on fistfuls of curls out of frustration. “But then when Caroline said all that, ‘bout me not spending enough time with you, it killed me.”

“That’s what this is about,” she sighs, more to herself than to Harry as the memory of that morning resurfaces in her mind. “You dork, what about what I said back?”

“I hung up. Didn’t wanna hear anything else after that.”

“I told her how wrong she was. How we spend lots of time together.”

“You did?”

“Mhm. She’s always bragging about her and Tony, like they’re the first two people to date ever. I totally rubbed our relationship in her face.”

Harry’s surprised by the gleam on his girlfriend’s face, and tries not to laugh. “What else did you tell her?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs, suddenly shy. “Can’t remember.”

“How convenient.” He nudges her knee with his, and she bumps him back.

Y/n exhales, dipping her head back to squint at the stars peeking out from a cloudy night. “My parents are driving me crazy.”

“They always drive you crazy.”

“Yeah but, more than usual. I got spoiled staying with you on the weekends.”

Harry hums, reaching his arm over to pull her into his side. “Maybe it shouldn’t just be weekends…”

“They would know something’s up if I stayed over on weeknights.”

“No, baby, I mean permanently.”

“Like moving in together?”

“Why not?”

She chews on her lip, trying to keep her smile hidden. “I don’t know...that’s a big deal. It’s a big step.”

“We can think about it. No rush.”

“It would be nice. To see each other whenever we wanted.”

Harry tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t have to ask your parents permission for anything.”

“Yeah…”

“Just me.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, angel.” He kisses her forehead and takes her hand, helping her up.

Y/n’s parents are in the living room when the two are back in the house, and just the thought of continuing her evening here lights a fire under y/n.

“I’m going over to Harry’s,” she announces.

Harry drops her hand, just as surprised as her parents.

“Excuse me?” Her father turns the t.v. off and straightens in his chair. “I don’t think so.”

“Well I think so,” y/n defends. “Come on, Harry.” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

“Harry!” Her mother protests.

He looks over his shoulder just as he’s being led out the door. “Oh, you can call me Rayna.”

#Harry styles requested #Harry styles requests #requests #request #harry styles fic #cherryyharryy #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst to fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

[tssidesfics]

Requests: Analogince where they’re human and also single dads? And they all meet because their kids fought and got called to the principals office

Virgil's POV

Upsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you got to raise a beautiful, special boy with a sharp mind. You got to teach him all the coping mechanisms you'd painstakingly learned over the years to cope with his condition and watch as he lit up over the things that brought him joy. You got to watch as he zipped from topic to topic, brighter than the sun, mind racing at a million miles an hour. You got to be the first person to hear about his beautifully creative ideas. You got to have a reason for living, all yours and wonderful, that you didn't have to share with anyone else.

Downsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you had no one else to pass the buck to when he got in trouble at school.

"It'll be fine," I chanted to myself for the billionth time as I turned off the ignition and unbuckled myself, gripping the steering wheel and forcing deep, measured breaths. "It'll be fine. He probably won't get expelled for this. This is his first fight and you don't even know why he got into a fight. You didn't raise a bully, so he was probably defending himself or another kid." Terror clasped me around the throat and squeezed. "But what if you did raise a bully and you didn't realize it, and now you've sentenced your son to a life of crime trying to make up for the hole in his heart where his father should have loved him oh God I broke my son!"

Immediately, my therapist's voice spoke up in my mind. You're catastrophizing again, he said in that obnoxiously aware, gentle way of his. Calm down. Take it one step at a time.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, focusing on the feeling of my stomach and then my chest expanding with air. I let it out through pursed lips, a quiet whistle in the exhale.

I'd played through scenarios like this a million times in my mind. The second Cassie told me, five months pregnant with tears streaming down her cheeks, that she didn't want the baby, I'd prepared myself for any possibility. I'd created contingency plans and contingency plans for my contingency plans, because I knew how much harsher the world would be on him. With a grandparent, his biological mother, and me all with ADHD, there hadn't been any doubt Drew would get it, too, and I'd prepared for that. I'd prepared for the possibility that poor grades and emotional dysregulation would put him on the back foot and even get him expelled. I'd taught him all the coping mechanisms I could. I'd tried to show him as much love and patience as I could muster, and I'd show him the same now. We'd get through this. We would make it through this.

I nodded, resolute, even as doubt and worry niggled at the back of my mind. I'd raised Drew alone, without any support from my parents or Cassie, working a call center job that barely paid enough to live off of. I'd demanded a child psychiatrist the second Drew started displaying symptoms and beat the system for the help he deserved. I'd beat the system for the help I deserved. I was a badass. I was a badass.

I got out of the car.

The two people at the front desk--a woman with strawberry blonde hair and a baby-faced guy--looked over, presumably torn from their conversation, when I walked through the door. The woman swiveled her chair to face me with a friendly smile. "Hello there," she said. "How may I help you?"

I forced myself to look her in the eyes and strained through a smile. If you act like a weirdo, it'll just make things worse for Drew. "Hey," I said. "I'm, uh...Drew Griffith's father. You called me and--"

"Oh!" She gestured to the side, at a door that read: PRINCIPAL MOROZOV. "He's in there."

I looked over and gulped, staring in fear at the door. "Say, uh..." I smiled at the woman as politely as I could. "You wouldn't happen to know the correct social etiquette for talking to the principal after your son gets into a fight at school, would you?"

She gave me a funny look. "Huh?"

"Never mind." I hung my head in defeat and commenced the walk of dread to the front door of the office. The wall facing me was all glass, which meant I could see inside. Two adults, one natural-haired in a polo shirt with his arm around one of the kids in the chair beside him and the other behind a desk, looking stern. I couldn't see the other two kids or any other adults.

And then Principal Morozov spotted me through the glass and shit, I was out of time.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. "Sorry it took me so long," I said, hoping that was the right thing to say. "It was hard getting off work."

"It's all right," Principal Morozov said. "We haven't even reached Mr. Accardo yet."

"Hey, Dad," came the halfhearted voice of Drew, hidden behind a chair too big for him, especially when he slumped in it like that.

I peered over the top and smiled at him softly. "What the heck, kid?" I asked.

"He called Patton a freak." Drew pointed at the kid in the middle, with a busted nose and--oh God.

He had scattered burn marks across the right side of his face, with two differently-colored eyes and a scowl.

"So of course you had to beat me up," the kid sneers. "Because that's a perfectly rational, healthy thing to do."

The third kid--Patton, I presumed--bounced in his seat, humming in distress. His father, a man wearing glasses and a polo shirt with a tie, rubbed his back.

"I don't see why my son has to be here," the other father said, looking at Principal Morozov. "He didn't do anything."

“Patton sits alone at lunch time and doesn’t have any friends,” the principal said. “We think if he tried to get along with his peers better, he’d have a happier time here.”

“Or, you know, you could make an effort to teach your students not to bully kids who are different from them,” I grumbled.

“What was that, Mr. Griffiths?”

I hesitated, glancing up at Principal Morozov, then back at Drew. On one hand, I wanted to lead by example: teach Drew that it was okay to stand up to authority for what he believed. On the other, sometimes, you had to pay lip-service to authority just to stay out of trouble. It was a lesson no child had the mental capacities to understand, but I supposed I’d have to do my best to teach him, because if I gave Principal Morozov cheek, he might expel Drew.

“Nothing, sir,” I said, feeling like a child cowering beneath the glare of my teachers again. I prepared to search for the bullshit in the story I was about to get fed and asked, “What happens now?”

"I'd prefer to wait for Mr. Accardo," the principal said.

"Roman teaches at a high school," the bully grumbled, slouched over with a glare fixated on the desk. "He's probably in the middle of class."

"Then you're going to have to stay after school to address this," Principal Morozov told him sternly.

"Whatever."

I had a very bad feeling about that kid. The scars on his face told a frightening story. He could just as easily be bullied for those as Drew got bullied for his ADHD and Patton for being a loner, which probably meant he turned that abuse outward and attacked others for their perceived differences in a never-ending cycle of abuse.

What? I could be bad at people and have a special interest in human psychology. Those two things were not mutually exclusive.

Suddenly, the door banged open. I jumped out of my skin, clamping a hand over my chest and struggling to breathe levelly, eyes crushed shut and body frozen. Then I heard the babbling.

"I'm sorry!" The principal's door opened. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. The kids were in the middle of rehearsal and--Janus, what happened? I'm so sorry, Mr. Morozov." A frazzled man with warm skin rushed inside and sat down next to the bully--Janus--hastily hugging him and turning his attention to the principal.

I frowned at the scene. I withheld judgment and looked at Principal Morozov as he said, "All right. Now that you're all here, there are going to be some serious consequences to what happened today."

********

"I can't believe you let him give me detention!" Drew whined. "Janus deserved to get punched!"

"And you deserve to die abandoned and unloved in a ditch, steeping in your own feces," Janus snapped.

"Janus," his father, Roman, said firmly, kneeling down and taking him by the shoulders. Janus tried to turn away from him, but Roman lightly shook him and made him meet his eyes. He softened. "I know how much you're hurting, but a hero never redirects his pain onto others. There are other ways."

"What if I don't want to be a hero?" Janus snapped. "What if I want to be the bad guy?"

"I don't believe that," Roman said gently, adjusting his bangs. "I don't think you do, either."

Janus turned from him sharply, crossing his arms and glaring at the asphalt. He sniffled.

Drew glanced up at me in confusion and I rubbed his back. "Sometimes," I said gently, "when people are hurting, they deal with that by hurting other people."

"That's stupid," Drew said with the blunt confidence of a ten-year-old.

"Maybe a little," I agreed, "but humans aren't always logical." Drew wrinkled his nose. "I know. It's so annoying, but it's true. You're not always logical, either. Remember when you burst out crying because your pencil broke?"

"Dad!" Drew turned bright red.

Roman chuckled. "So." He stood up and crossed his arms. "You're the little rascal who dared challenge Janus to a duel for--Patton, right?" He looked at Mr. Davis--or Logan, as he'd introduced himself--who nodded. "You're the rascal who challenged Janus to a duel for Patton's honor," Roman finished.

"He was being an asshole," Drew protested.

"I'd say it's not my fault he uses that language," I said through a wince, "but it's definitely my fault he uses that language."

"I'm the same way with Janus, don't worry." Roman chuckled--a low, rumbly sound. He turned back to Drew. "You're got a paladin's heart and a temper. I was a lot like you when I was a kid."

Drew snorted. "You think you're cute, don't you?"

"He's always like this," Janus said, shoving in front of Roman. "He thinks it's so inspiring to talk about heroes all the time, like fairy tales are the best thing ever."

"That's gotta be annoying," Drew said, wrinkling his nose.

"It is." Janus stopped and scowled. "Don't relate to me!"

"Ew! You're a jerk! Get away from me!"

I exchanged a fond, exasperated look with Roman, who chuckled and squeezed Janus' shoulder. "Hey," he said, "maybe, if you apologized, you could have a friend."

"I don't want to apologize."

"So you'd rather another kid think you're a horrible person!"

Janus hesitated a moment before straightened his back. "Yes."

"I don't believe that."

I glanced over at Logan and saw that he was busy talking to Patton, kneeling on the ground and smoothing his hands over his shoulders in measured strokes. It seemed to soothe Patton. I looked at Drew.

"You know how it sometimes hurts you when you think about your Aunt Cassie?" I said softly, pulling him into my side as the shadow washed over his face.

"He called Patton a freak, Dad," Drew argued. "He's not even really my friend, but he's not a freak. He's just...different. Like me."

"I know, kiddo," I said, squeezing him against my side. "You don't have to give him a chance. He hasn't asked forgiveness, and you wouldn't owe him one even if you did. I just know you don't like to see people struggling alone."

Drew hesitated.

I looked over at Logan. "How's Patton?"

Logan glanced back at me, then looked at Patton. "Do you want to answer?"

Patton hesitated.

"It's okay," I said, not looking at his face. Patton hadn't made eye contact with a single person, including his father, since I'd met him. He clearly had more trouble with it than I did, and I wasn't always a huge fan. "I'm autistic, too."

Patton immediately perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah." I smiled, looking over the top of his head. I looked at Drew. "Can I tell him about you?"

"I'm ADHD," Drew told him, turning to him. "I got diagnosed last year."

"Oh cool!" Patton flapped his hands at his sides and bounced eagerly. "I don't, I don't think, because I'm actually pretty good at focusing most of the time and I have a really good memory, but Dad says autism and ADHD are really close together. It's really nice to meet someone else! I don't have many friends."

"Well, I guess you have me," Drew said. "I didn't get in trouble defending you for nothing."

Patton squealed and continued stimming enthusiastically. Drew offered a hug, which Patton considered for a long moment before accepting.

Logan smiled softly at the exchange and looked over to me. "You've raised a very kind son."

"More than half of it is all him," I said. "I do the best I can, but...I'm just one person. He's probably gonna hate me once he's a teenager."

"Nuh-uh!" Drew objected, charging over to embrace me around the middle. I smiled and hugged him close, squeezing him as tight as was safe. He grunted.

I caught Janus staring at us. I couldn't read his expression. He was glaring, but I had a feeling it wasn't anger. But clearly, Roman did understand it, because he knelt down and hugged him close, even when he tried to push him away. He just held fast. I thought for sure Janus would react badly--he hadn't wanted to be held, what was wrong with Roman?--but then he slowly relaxed and leaned against him. I still couldn't read him very well, but that...didn't look particularly resigned.

"You know," Roman said, pulling back after a long while, "I bet Drew and Patton would be willing to forgive you if you really, really earnestly apologized."

Janus shoved away from him, crossing his arms and glaring at the ground. "I don't want to apologize."

Roman sighed heavily, and Drew whirled on him. "You're such a freaking jerk!" he screamed. "What's wrong with you? Why do you have to be a jerk to everyone? I tried to be your friend and you just spit on me!"

"I don't want your pity!"

"It wasn't pity!"

"It's always pity!" Janus screeched. "You think I don't know what these scars make me? You think I don't know I'm a freak? If the fire didn't teach me that, then my parents sure did! I'm nothing! The only reason anyone would be nice to me is pity and I don't want anyone's pity! I just want to be left alone!"

Janus turned and ran. Roman chased after him frantically, never sparing Logan or I a glance.

Drew and Patton stood stunned. Drew looked at Patton, who stared at his forehead. "Well..." he said. "What the heck am I supposed to do now?"

Patton ran in the direction of Janus.

At that point, about the only thing for Drew and I to do was chase after his new friend, hot on the heels of his father.

We found Patton with his backpack unzipped, standing beside Janus' car door, already buckled in with Roman partway into the driver's seat, holding out a picture of a flower.

"It's ivy," Patton said. "It means friendship."

Janus stared at him through the window, unmoving. Patton, to my shock, held his gaze for one, two moments and then averted his eyes. Logan hurried over to hold him, clearly expecting Janus to reject him again.

Janus opened the car door. "Why would you want to be my friend?"

"He didn't say he wanted to be your friend," Drew sneered. "He just said it meant friendship, dummy."

"Drew," I chided softly, and he recoiled into my side.

"Because it's nice to know I'm not the only one who can't make any friends," Patton said. "I like having other friends who are special."

"I'm not special," Janus snapped.

"Dad says that being different is always special, because different people have discovered some of the coolest, prettiest things ever."

"It's true," Logan said. "Albert Einstein, Hans Christian Anderson, and Michelangelo. were all autistic."

"See?" Patton bounced and beamed at Janus. "So maybe we can all be different and special together and do really cool things one day! Like the three Musketeers."

Janus considered strongly. "I'm Athos."

"You can be whoever you want to be!" Patton said earnestly. "Then we can all have lots of musketcheer."

Drew, Roman and I choked on a laugh. Logan shook his head fondly. "He watches one sitcom that likes puns and he suddenly won't stop," he said.

Even Janus cracked a small smile. He accepted the paper. "Fine," he said. "We can have musketcheer."

Drew pouted. "Does this mean I'm your friend now?"

"Yes," Patton said firmly, looking at him.

Drew jumped, looking fearfully at Patton, who somehow managed to look intimidating while also avoiding eye contact. He looked up at me. "What have I done?" he asked.

"Made friends." I rubbed his back. I looked around. "We should probably get all these guys home. They've had a long day, and school will be letting out soon."

"I guess now that all our kids are friends, I'll be seeing more of you," Roman said to both Logan and me.

Logan hummed. "I presume so. Patton does not own a phone of his own. I can give you my number if your children wish to contact him?"

"I hate to say it, but you should probably get him his own phone," I said. "It's dangerous not to have one. If I ever lost sight of Drew...I'd rather he have a phone."

Logan considered this. "I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, for the moment, you'll have to go through me to reach Patton."

"Don't have to ask me twice. Here." Roman accepted Logan's phone and typed in Janus' number, then passing it to Drew, who stared at it for a moment.

I recited his number to him and he punched it in. "Don't worry, kid," I said. "One day, you're going to have to tell so many doctors your number that it's going to be emblazoned on your brain."

After all numbers had been exchanged, I shook Logan's and Roman's hands goodbye and let Patton and Drew embrace again. Janus stayed stubbornly in his seat, refusing any sort of affection, which kind of concerned me, but then Roman whispered, "This is the most receptive he's been since I started fostering him."

I nodded and smiled, leading Drew back toward the car. He looked at me. "I guess I have friends now."

I glanced back toward Roman's car as it drove away and caught Logan's eye as he loaded into his own. He smiled at me.

"Yeah," I said. "I think I might have, too."

#sanders sides human au #analogince #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts sides #sanders sides #ts patton #ts janus #adhd virgil #autistic logan #trans virgil #autistic virgil #kid patton #kid janus #kid oc #virgil being trans has nothing to do with the fic #it is just important to me that you know there is no such thing as a cis virgil when i'm writing him in a human AU #this mostly turned into janus angst hour #he's very young and very little and needs much therapy #i tried to write the actual chat with the principal and it did not work well #so the principal is a caricature on which i'm projecting all of my neurodiverse school troubles with authority figures onto #i did not have a fun time in school #yes most of these characters are neurodiverse #i'm not PROJECTING or anything #why ever would you think something silly like that #one ask down #many more to go #caffeine save my soul

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi! May i request scenarios for Leona where his s/o goes to his room, tries to wake him up in the early morning to watch the sunrise together at the rooftop? I'm alright with gender neutral! Thank you~

Imagine this...

Savanaclaw boasted a number of spectacular sights--the grand expanse of the Magift stadium, the overview of the open sky from the topmost rope bridges, the glittering indoor waterfall pool... Even so, nothing, in your opinion, could compare to the sunrise.

The flat nature of the savanna lent itself to serving as the perfect stage for the star to slowly raise itself into the sky, almost like a perfectly placed stage prop falling into its place. A dark blue backdrop would give way to warmer hues--then that fabled orb of light would make its appearance, casting the land in its golden glow. Sparse trees framed by shadow, the sun ringing in a new day.

It was breathtakingly beautiful.

... You only wished your boyfriend would appreciate it more.

"Come on, Leona," you whined, digging your elbow into the sleeping lion's side. His room was still eclipsed in darkness, so you couldn't quite make out his face (which probably fixed in a scowl), but you could vaguely make out the shape of his body tossing.

"Five more minutes," he groaned, burying his head against his pillow.

"You already said that five minutes ago," you pointed out.

"It's too early for this," Leona protested--his voice still groggy from a long slumber.

"It's the sunrise. Getting up early is required," you murmured, a hand trailing over his lying form. You could feel the powerful muscles shifting under his skin--but what a waste it was that he so often slept on them rather than put them to some use to haul himself up for the day.

"Don't want to." Leona turned onto his other side--your hand, deflected. "Sleep now, wake later."

"Silly kitty." You prodded at his side, causing him to twitch, and his ears to stand on end. "You can sleep anytime you want, but you can only see the sunrise at this certain part of the day."

"There's nothing special about the sun," he grunted. "It's bright and shiny and an eyesore."

You rolled your eyes and added sweetly, "Plus... I came all this way to be with you, since we don't always get to see each other. That's special, isn't it? I promise it'll be worth it!'

Silence on his end.

"I'd really, really appreciate it if you'd make the effort for me. Pretty please?"

His chest rose and fell--he had taken a deep breath in and expelled it through his teeth. Then, Leona slowly drew himself up into a seated, cross-legged position.

His long locks were matted and messy, falling in a curtain over his slouched head. The lion beastman huffed, pulling back the hair from his face with a hand. And there, slicing through the darkness, were two brilliantly keen green eyes.

"... Alright, fine. Let's make this quick, herbivore."

You moved far faster than Leona, quickly scaling the ladder up to the rooftop of the Savanaclaw dorm and taking a seat amid the rock formations there. He lumbered after you at a relaxed pace, still shaking the excess sleep from himself. A yawn escaped him as he settled down beside you.

"When's the show starting?" he teased, glancing down at you. "You didn't drag me out of bed for nothing, did you?"

"Be patient!" you pouted, playfully swatting at his arm. "There's no set time for these things. It just... happens."

"So demanding." Leona lazily laid his head on you, cheek pressed up against your shoulder. "Careful, or I'll gobble you up. Then you'll never be able to see the light again."

"Haha, very funny." The sarcasm rolled off your tongue naturally. "Aren't you just a ray of sunshine?"

"Maybe if I had caught some more Zs, I'd be less moody," he retorted, "but someone insisted they wanted oh-so-desperately to bask in my presence."

"Oh, you'd be moody anyway! And don't act like you don't want to be spending time with me...!!"

"Do I? Then, since it looks like you're on the defensive... I'll go on the offense...!!"

With that declaration, Leona aggressively digging his head into the crook of your neck. You giggled, his ears and hair tickling your exposed skin.

A single laugh, perhaps, came out a bit too forcefully. That, combined with Leona's body weight on one side, knocked you over and sent you sprawling across the rooftop. He followed suit, falling on top of you and pinning you squarely beneath him.

"Hmph. Look who's come out on top again, herbivore," Leona smirked down at you.

Shadows encircled his face, making his regal features appear sharper than usual. A deadly sort of beauty that you couldn't help but be drawn to.

"You're--"

A sparkle caught in the corner of your eye, pulling you toward it. You jerked your head to the light, and you gasped, your face breaking out into a massive grin.

"Oh...!!"

Leona followed your excited gaze out into the horizon.

Dawn had started to seep through cracks in the night. Ribbons of rose, amber, and gold streaked the sky, brightening up the once bleak canvas, studded in dying stars. Black faded to blue, dark yielded to light. Hopeful, yet hopelessly fleeting, easily slipping through your fingers.

And where the land seemed to end, the sun peered out, chasing away the clouds. It was a golden coin suspended above, glimmering--winking, smothering warmth across the world. A shining beacon, rising above it all.

"It's so pretty," you breathed, utterly spellbound by the sight.

You scrambled upright, arching your head to get a better look. Leona only stared after you, brow furrowed in confusion. “Oi. What do you think you’re...”

“We came to see the sunrise!” you called back with a laugh. You gestured for Leona to join you, pointing upward with your other hand. "I told you, didn't I? I said it would be worth getting up early to see this."

He blinked--but, cool as a cat, his composure quickly returned. "... Mm, yeah. Guess it was."

But Leona wasn't looking at the sunrise.

No--it was your smiling face that was worth it all.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #Reader #self insert #imagine this #disney twisted wonderland

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter nine rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

You were quiet in the cab ride home. Peter was talking a mile a minute and all you gave him were small smiles and fake laughs every now and then so he wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong. He was too happy about how well the evening had gone to notice.

“Do you want to come back to my apartment? You can sleep over if you want.” Peter asked with a shy smile when you got to your floor. You didn’t want to lie in bed all night with Peter when you were literally lying to Peter, so you faked a yawn and stretched a little.

“Not tonight, babe. I’m a little tired.” You lied. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay Pete?”

Peter looked a little disappointed but you knew he understood.

“Okay, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He went to kiss your lips but you turned so he only got your cheek. You pretended not to see the confusion and hurt in Peters eyes at your actions. You went into your apartment and went out the window immediately, needing to blow off some steam as Venom.

It didn’t take long to find crime, or for crime to find you. You soon heard the shrill cries of a panicked woman.

“Someone help me! He’s got my son!” She screamed. You immediately morphed into Venom and followed the sound of her voice. You climbed to the top of a tall building and scanned the city. Your eyes landed on a man running away with a small child struggling in his grasp. You jumped from the building and ran after the man at full speed. You caught up to him easily and blocked his path. You shot a web at the child and yanked him out of the mans grasp. At that moment, Spider-Man jumped down from the sky and landed between you and the man.

“Hold this.” You demanded and handed the child to Spider-Man. Spider-Man took the child and looked at you, the eyes on his mask squinting in confusion.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked as he bounced the child on his hip.

“Eat.” Venom said simply before bolting after the kidnapper who had took off running.

“Find the mom and get him to safety.” Venom called back to Spider-Man.

When you tracked the man down, you snatched the man up and suspended him in the air. Venom quickly swallowed him whole and fled the scene.

You found the mother just in time to see Spider-Man reuniting her with her child.

“Here you go ma’am.” He said kindly. The mother took her child and smiled at him gratefully.

“Thank you Spider-Man. I don’t know how you do it. You’re a hero.” The mom praised. Spider-Man laughed softly.

“I do my best. Stay safe.” Spider-Man waved kindly. The mother thanked him again and left with her son. Spider-Man turned to walk away as well but you stopped him.

“What the hell was that?” You roared. “You just took all the credit for saving that kid. You didn’t even do anything. We saved the kid, we killed the man, you were just the delivery boy. Why didn’t you tell the mom that we helped?” Spider-Man looked as taken aback as a man in a mask could look. Granted, your Y/n was showing. You were speaking in your Venom voice but it was really you talking, and Spider-Man seemed to notice the difference.

“Oh. I’m-I’m sorry. It’s just, you’re kinda scary and the kid was already super freaked out. I didn’t want to make it worse by him seeing you.” Spider-Man answered. He didn’t mean to offend you but his words hurt.

“We’re not scary. We saved that boy.” You said in defense.

“Yeah but, you’re honestly terrifying man.” Spider man laughed awkwardly. “Even I’m scared. A little kid wouldn’t want to see a hideous monster right after nearly being kidnapped. No offense.”

It almost seemed like he was trying to compliment you. Venom was much more hurt by his words than you were. At the end of the day, you could look like a regular person while Venom was stuck looking like a “hideous monster.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” You shouted in your own voice. Spider-Man looked around for who the new voice came from. 

“Did that come from you?” He asked.

“It came from us.” You said, back to the low Venom growl.

“See it’s things like that that make you terrifying.” Spiderman continued. “That kid would’ve wet his pants if he saw you. I’m a nice, friendly face that people can trust. Really, no offense dude, but no one wants to see your face.”

You took a menacing step towards him and roared. He backed up instantly and held up his arms in defense.

“Woah woah woah please don’t put your eggs in me!” He shrieked. “I’m just stating the facts. You will never be a hero, if that what’s you’re going for. New York isn’t going to feel safe with a monster like you on the streets. If I told that mom that you were the one to save her kid, she would’ve ran straight to the cops. It might be better if you just went back to the planet you came from.”

He was trying something new. He knew he couldn’t physically beat Venom in a fight, so he tried using his words instead. His girlfriend was so good with words and he wanted to make her proud. All he knew was, he needed Venom out of the city.

“You’re wrong. We’re not a monster.” Venom growled. You just stayed silent.

“Fine. Monster. Alien. Whatever you want to be called, it doesn’t matter.” Spiderman waved his hand. “Because all anyone will call you is dangerous, scary, and a threat. You’re better off leaving earth and never coming back.”

“We’re not leaving.” Venom snarled.

“What’s with the we? Who else is in there?” Spider-Man asked. He reached out to touch you and you threw him against a building.

“Don’t touch us. Our host is in here.” Venom growled. Spider-Man tilted his head.

“Host? So you’re like a parasite?” He asked innocently. Innocent or not, it was the wrong question to ask. Venom picked Spider-Man up by his neck again and dangled him in the air. Spider-Man kicked his legs and tried to break free but couldn’t.

“First, you take credit for our work, then you insult us, and now you call us a parasite? We are not a parasite. We are Venom. And you are dead.” Venom sneered. Venom was too angry to listen to what Mr. Stark said about not eating Spider-Man. He had pushed you too far.

Venom ripped Spider-Mans mask off, wanting to see his identity before you killed him. To your devastating surprise, your terrified boyfriends face stared back at you. He had a bloody nose from being thrown against the wall and his face was red from lack of oxygen. He whispered pleas for mercy as his eyes begged you to let him go. You gasped and immediately dropped Peter onto the ground, looking around frantically for what to do next. He coughed and sputtered for a while while he rubbed his aching neck.

When he looked up, Venom was handing him his mask back with an apologetic look on your big white eyes. Peter shakily took the mask and nodded in thanks. You nodded back and ran as fast as you could back to your apartment. You climbed into your window, transformed back into yourself, and went to throw up in the bathroom.

Peter was Spider-Man. Peter was Spider-Man. And you were Venom. How could it be? How could fate be so cruel? And yet, it made perfect sense. He fit the description. College student from New York who traveled to Washington D.C. at the time of the elevator incident. It explained everything, from the first aid kit on Peters desk, to the constant phone calls, to Ned asking if you knew about Peter, and of course, Mr. Stark. The Stark Internship was being Spider-Man. You should’ve known. The signs were all there. But a part of you just wanted something good for once. Something that the rest of the world couldn’t touch. That something had been Peter. And now, you had to give him up.

You ignored Peters calls and texts for the next six days. You gave him a lame excuse about needed to stay focused on your Cletus Kasady article and so you couldn’t be on your phone. You had a week to tell him you were Venom, according to Mr. Stark. That week was almost up and you had spent it successfully avoiding Peter. You stayed in your apartment as often as you could and only left out the window when you had to go somewhere. Peters texts increasingly got harder and harder to ignore. You didn’t want to ignore his sweet good morning and goodnight texts or science puns, but you couldn’t face him. You just wanted to shake him and ask him why he kept something so big a secret from you. But alas, you said nothing.

On the sixth day of avoiding Peter, you knew you had to go out. You didn’t want to use the front door but you desperately needed to check your mail and it was pouring rain outside. You peered out your peephole and saw no signs of Peter. You quickly opened your door and didn’t even make it two steps before you heard the sound of Peters door opening. Running would be a bad option, right? You slowly turned around and gave Peter and awkward smile. He didn’t smile back.

“You’re avoiding me.” He stated. His voice wasn’t it’s usually happy tone. He sounded hurt and confused. You knew he had every reason to be, but you were hurt and confused too.

“I’m not. I told you I had to write my article.” You lied through your teeth. He didn’t buy it.

“Bullshit.” He scoffed. “I know you haven’t had your final interview with him. It’s in two days, right? How could you be finishing your article when you’re not even done with the interviews?”

You gulped. He saw right through your lies.

“Are you mad at me?” His tone changed as his voice weakened. “Did I do something wrong?”

Your heart broke. You wanted to hug him and tell him he didn’t do anything wrong, but you couldn’t. He’d been lying to you as long as you knew him. You couldn’t just forgive him and pretend you didn’t know he was Spider-Man.

“No.” You said quietly, suddenly taking extreme interest in your shoes. “No, Petey, I’m not mad.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?” His voice cracked and your heart cracked with it. You looked down and shook your head, wishing you had an answer to give him. You looked around before stepping forward and pulling him into a tearful kiss. You let in longer in case it was the last kiss you ever shared with him He kissed you back but you felt his hesitation. His guard was up and you knew why.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed once you pulled away. “I can’t explain. I have to go, Peter. I’m sorry.”

You hated yourself for saying it, he deserved so much better. Peter looked like he was about to cry, confusion clouding his brown eyes. You turned away from him, unable to watch his heart breaking in front of you.

“Is this it?” His voice was quiet. “Are we over?”

“I think we are.” You said without turning around.

“Why the hell did you say that?” You thought. It’s not what you meant. You looked at Peter over your shoulder in time to see a tear run down his cheek. You went to turn back around but Peter grabbed your hand suddenly and pulled you towards the stairs. You didn’t resist and let him tug you, feeling like you owed him as much. You find it slightly ironic know that you knew why he was so strong.

Peter pulled you all the way to the roof, back to the very spot you once referred to as “ours.” He let go of your hand and pointed to the ledge, looking at you with weary eyes.

“Tell me it was all fake. Tell me it was all in my head and we weren’t happy together on that ledge. Tell me I made it all up and you were never as into me as I was into you. Tell me our first kiss, our first time, our first conversation meant nothing to you. Tell me you hate me and feel nothing for me.” He shouted before quieting down. “Because unless you tell me that, I won’t let you end this without giving me a reason. I won’t let you just walk away. Please, don’t end what we have just because you’re scared. You don’t have to be afraid. Not of me.”

“I know.” You whispered. “But you should be afraid of me. In fact, you already are.”

“What?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “Afraid—what?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Peter. Or of this. Of us. That’s not it.” You told him truthfully. “I’m afraid of what will happen when you find out I’m not who you think I am. I’m far worse.”

“What are you talking about? I do know you.” He insisted.

“You don’t.” You shook your head as tears fell from your eyes. “You do but you don’t.”

“Then who are you?”

“I’m a monster. We-“ you were cut off by the sounds of people screaming from the street below. Peter looked at you before running to the edge to peer down.

“Something’s attacking the city.” He called back to you. “It looks like a red version of Venom.”

“A red symbiote?” ,you thought, “how can that be?”

Peter turned and looked at you, not wanting to pull out his Spider-Man suit in front of you. Of course, he didn’t know that you were already well aware of his secret.

With the city under attack, your fight with Peter was going to wait. You wiped the tears from your face and walked past Peter, your shoulders brushing as you moved past him. You stared over the edge at the commotion, knowing you were the only one who could give the symbiote a fair fight. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked over your shoulder at Peter, giving him a silent apology.

“I love you, Peter.” You said suddenly, never breaking eye contact. “I love you.”

With that, you jumped off the roof and turned into Venom in mid air. You landed on the ground below and roared at the red symbiote. You knew you had to focus on the fight, but your mind was goign a million miles an hour.

It was the first time you’d ever said those words to Peter, despite feeling them from the moment you met. He was the second boy you ever said those words to, but the first boy where you actually meant it.

You shook your head to free yourself from your thoughts and let out another roar.

“Venom!” The red symbiote smiled. “So glad you could make it! Where’s your friend huh? Is she too scared to come out and say hello to Carnage?”

“Carnage?” You wondered. Since when was there another symbiote on earth and more importantly, how did it know who you were?

You wasted no time in launching yourself at Carnage and attacking. You two wrestled for dominance for a while until Carnage ultimately won. He began to pull Venom off your body and you felt your face became uncovered. Carnage raised his razor sharp fingernails and prepared to slit your throat with his long nails.

“Heads up!” Spider-Man came swinging down and kicked Carnage off of you before he could harm you. You quickly bonded back with Venom and stood up, just in time to see Carnage throwing Peter across the street. You ran to him and helped him up.

“Shoot your web at the same time we do, okay?” You said and held out your wrist. Peter did the same and you both shot a web at the fast approaching Carnage. The combination of your webs was enough to capture Carnage and send him crashing to the floor. He soon broke out of his webbing and began running towards you again.

“Karen! Web grenade!” Peter yelled. He threw a web ball at Carnage and it blew up in the red symbiotes face. While he was distracted, you pulled the symbiote from its host by the ankles. Enough skin of the host was showing for you to take a bite. Carnage yelled in pain and turned to his closest attacker, which happened to be Peter. He picked Peter up and repeatedly slammed him into the pavement. To stop this, you tackled Carnage and spit acid spit in his eyes. Carnage howled and began to run away.

“I’ll be back, Venom.” He snarled. “And when I return, there’s gonna be Carnage.”

You ignored his threat and quickly ran to your unconscious boyfriend, kneeling down beside him. After checking to see that no one was around, you took off his mask and accessed his injuries. His face was beaten pretty badly and his pulse was weak. You transformed back into yourself and took off your hoodie and shirt, leaving you in a sports bra and leggings. You ran your hands over Peters body until you found a way to take the suit off, it was by pressing the spider on the chest. You tore up your shirt and pressed it to the large wound on Peters chest to stop the bleeding. You suddenly got an idea and pressed a hand to his chest, letting Venom go inside him and move around. Venoms healing abilities made the cuts on Peters chest disappear, but he was still knocked out. You pulled your hand away and slipped the hoodie around his body before picking him up with ease. He was adorably light. You quickly ran into the apartment building and went to his room before anyone could see you.

Peter came to about a half hour later just as you were finishing up healing his cuts. You had managed to bathe him and get him into a fresh pair of comfy clothes while his body healed.

Peter slowly woke up and noticed you were straddling his lap. After nearly a week of no contact with you, it felt nice. He missed the way your skin felt on his. He almost jumped out of his seat when he saw his Spider-Man suit hanging up in the closet where you could easily see it.

“Relax. I already know you’re Spider-Man.” You cooed as you put some Neosporin on his busted eyebrow. Peter relaxed under you for a moment as he took in his situation.

“And you’re not mad?” He asked quietly. You were surprisingly calm considering the circumstances.

“I’m not mad.” You smiled softly at him. “Venom is a little offended that you called her ugly though.”

“You’re Venom.” Peter said as he remembered seeing you jump off the building and transforming into the alien before his eyes. It made sense. The “We” was in reference to you. And you had saved his life the first night you met when Venom wanted to eat him. He just couldn’t believe his girlfriend was his arch nemesis this whole time.

“I am. Well, we are. Venom, say hi.” You turned to your left and watched as Venom shyly came out in her snake-like form to greet

“Hi.” Venom hissed.

“Hey.” Peter said back with a tiny bit a fear. He looked at you for reassurance and you nodded.

“You’re no panty dropper yourself, by the way.” Venom grumbled.

“Hey! Be nice or go back inside.” You scolded. Venom chose the later and went back inside.

“Are you mad?” You asked timidly, making him think about it.

“Not mad. Just confused.” He decided. “Is this why you were avoiding me? Because you saw my identity the night we ate dinner with Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah.” You admitted with guilt. “He told me I had a week to tell you. Today’s only day six so he’s gonna be thrilled.”

“He knows?” Peters eyes widened in surprise.

“Yes.” You confessed. “But he knew I was Venom before he knew I was your girlfriend.”

“That’s great news. Then I don’t have to explain anything to him.” Peter looked on the bright side. “Plus, he loves you. Speaking of love…”

Peter put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a passionate, tear filled kiss. You wrapped your hand around his wrist and kissed him deeply, one last time. You slowly pulled apart and you bit your quivering lip.

“We have to break up.” You whispered before pulling your hands away from him.

“What? Why?” Peter asked in shock.

“Look at us Peter. Look what’s become of us.” Your voice wavered. “How can we ever be together when you’re Spider-Man and I’m Venom? We didn’t tell each other these huge things about our lives and we hurt each other because of it. Tell me, do you honestly think I’d ever lay a hand on you?”

“No.” Peter answered. He knew you didn’t have a malicious bone in your body.

“Exactly. I wouldn’t. And yet, I beat you to the point where you couldn’t even stand.” You began to cry from shame. “I should be protecting you, not hurting you.”

“But you didn’t know it was me.” Peter pointed out.

“Exactly Peter! I didn’t know it was you because you didn’t tell me!” You exclaimed. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you. But in my defense, I’ve never told anyone I was Spider-Man. May, Ned, Mr. Stark, they all found out on their own. You were the first person I was actually going to tell willingly. I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” He sighed, and you believed him. “And what about you? You didn’t tell me you were Venom.” .

“It’s different, Peter.” You shook your head. “Venom isn’t a friendly neighborhood superhero. People see you and the run to you for help. But Peter, I’m what they’re running from. You said it yourself. I’m a hideous monster. I had a reason to hide who I was.”

Peter looked hurt at his own words. He cringed at the memory of insulting you so many times. He couldn’t imagine how it felt to hear that from your own boyfriend.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I said that about Venom, not you. I never would’ve said it if I had known.” Peter said softly, while reaching up to stroke your cheek. You wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch and forget the whole thing.

“That’s the point.” You moved his hand away. “We both would’ve done things differently if we had known. But we didn’t. And that’s why we need to breakup. Before we hurt each other any more.”

“Y/n, please.” Peter’s lips began to tremble. You couldn’t even look at him, not when you knew how much you were hurting him. You knew you’d take one took at his tear filled eyes and run right back into his arms. You had to be strong. You got up off his lap and headed towards the door before you lost your nerve.

“I’m sorry, Peter.” You said with your back to him. “We’re just on different paths. I’m so sorry.”

“Well what if I give up being Spider-Man?” Peter bartered. You looked at him over your shoulder in bewilderment.

“You’d give that up for me?”

“Anything for you.” He said confidently.

“I can’t ask you to do that. And what about Mr. Stark? You’re just gonna give up your mentor to be with me?” You asked him, hoping to knock some sense into him.

“Nothing means anything if I don’t have you.” Peter shot back. He was making it so difficult. You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at him for how he was acting.

“You’re not throwing your life away for me.” You shook your head sternly. “I won’t allow it.”

“Well what if you give up Venom?” He suggested.

Venom jumped out and growled at Peter. He stumbled back and you held Venom back like a dog on a leash.

“She would never choose you over us, Spider-Man.” Venom snarled. “We’ve been with Y/n much longer than you have. We’ve dried her tears. We’ve kept her safe. What have you done? Y/n and I are inseparable by choice. I’m inside her. She’s mine.”

“Yea, well, I’ve been inside her too.” Peter shot back with faltering confidence. Your eyes widened at the two of them.

“Both of you, stop it.” You commanded. “This argument is over. I’m sorry, Peter. I’ll never be sorry enough. But I have to go.”

“Where are you going?” He panicked as you went for the door again.

“Home.” you answered, avoiding his gaze. 

“This is your home.” He protested. “Here, with me.”

“Not anymore.” You finally looked at him. “I’m going back to San Francisco. I booked the flight while you were knocked out and it leaves in the morning. I can’t be here anymore, Peter. I can’t see you everyday and not want to be with you.”

“Then be with me.” Peter practically yelled.

“We can’t be together. I knew it from the start.” You wiped your face when you remembered your breakdown in your car that one day.

“Y/n, please.” Peter gently took your arm, making you look at him. “Don’t go. I need you. You never even gave me a chance to say it back.”

In the midst of all the chaos and drama, you’d forgotten that you told Peter you loved him. A part of you was glad you finally got to say it, but the bigger part of you ached knowing you’d never hear it back.

“Don’t say it.” You put a half over his mouth for a moment. “Please, just, don’t say it. It’ll be too painful for the both of us. Just let me go. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. You and I not being together will never be okay.” Peter cried, leaving his sweet brown eyes a miserable red.

“Peter…” you breathed, hardly able to take it.

“Please don’t leave me. Everyone else has left me. And you’ve never been like everyone else.” Peter gave one last attempt to make you stay. You looked at him in his entirety. You took him all in. His wavy hair, his doe eyes, his slightly crooked nose and his eyebrow that stood all the way up. All the things you first fell in love with that day you knocked on his door to give him his mail. That seemed that a million years back but it was really only a few months. Your heart broke at the sight of Peter, as beautiful as ever, standing before with a broken heart. And even worse, you were the one that broke it.

“Stay.” His voice was barely above a whisper but he could see you beginning to weaken. He took his opportunity to beg to reconsider. A little gleam of hope bubbled in Peters chest. You stood up straighter, cleared your throat, and tore your eyes away from your ex-boyfriend.

“Peter Parker, I will love you until my lungs are empty. But I cannot stay.” You said firmly. Just like that, his hope was gone. Before he could say anything else, you ran out his bedroom door, through his kitchen, and out the front door. You locked your door behind you and climbed into bed, crying at the loss of your teenage love. You knew Peter could hear every tear that fell with his heightened hearing, so you whispered heartfelt apologies and hoped he’d find a way to forgive you.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #iron man

[starryeyedweeb]

Valentine’s Day With Hunter x Hunter

Characters Included: Kurapika, Hisoka, Chrollo, Illumi

Content Included: Floofity fluff- Valentine’s style; fairly gender-neutral

A Valentine’s Day With...

Kurapika

Kurapika’s actually beyond excited for Valentine’s Day with you, and has counted down the days until the event

He has a pretty traditional way of celebrating Valentine’s, but isn’t it tradition because it’s beloved by all?

He had made arrangements to get off work early that evening weeks in advance, and when the day finally comes, he can’t wait to go pick you up for your date

Like most, he had made reservations at a romantic restaurant, but the one he had chosen was more of a hidden gem- in a quieter part of town, with a niche menu, and in an intimate setting

You observe your surroundings in delight as you’re led to your table, where you sit side-by-side in front of a spindly vase of flowers

“Do you like it?” Kurapika asks, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he watches your reactions carefully. “I saw this restaurant months ago, and I’ve always thought you would enjoy it.”

“It’s perfect,” you reply, squeezing his hand lightly, and he averts his eyes with a sheepish chuckle

After enjoying your romantic course meal, Kurapika takes you off to the next spot of the night: an observatory, which is conveniently empty of all other people

“I’ve always wanted to go stargazing with you, but it’s too cold to go now. Even if it wasn’t, though, you can’t really see any stars in the city,” he explains. “So I decided on the next best thing.”

You could sense his nerves, for he wanted so badly for you to enjoy yourself completely

“I love it, I promise.” You press a kiss to his cheek. “Come on. Let’s go sit down and enjoy it.”

With hands still linked, you relax into your reclined seats and stare up at the celestial scene above you, pointing out constellations and naming your favorites

After settling deeply into your contentment at the time you were having with each other, Kurapika sits up slightly and reaches into his pocket

“I’d like to give you your gift now, if that’s alright.”

“You got me something?”

“I did.” He laughs gently, his cheeks reddening again. “I’ve always wanted to get you a nice gift, and this seemed like the perfect occasion.”

He hands you the pristinely wrapped package, which you open to find a delicate necklace, with a single but stunning ruby charm

He had saved up for months to get you something nice, and had labored over picking out something that would remind you of him without being too pretentious on his part

So, needless to say, happiness swells in his chest when you break into a wide grin

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe

“Would you like me to put it on you?”

You nod, and with gentle fingers brushing against your skin, he fastens the chain around your neck, placing a whisper of a kiss just below your jaw.

“Thank you for spending this time with me,” you murmur as the two of you sit back again, your faces illuminated by the starry scene above

“If it was up to me, I’d never leave.”

Hisoka

Going into Valentine’s Day with a partner as unorthodox as Hisoka left you with many questions about what he would do to celebrate, if anything at all

You were prepared for anything, so you were less surprised than you might’ve been when he shook you awake nearly at the crack of dawn

“What’s going on?” You mutter sleepily. “Why are you awake so early?”

He merely drops a bag down next to you and strides out of the room

“Put that on,” he instructs, shutting the door behind him

Your brows knit in confusion as you reach into the bag and pull out an outfit that toes the line between summery and skimpy, presenting the question of “Is this streetwear or lingerie?”

Knowing it would be more fun to play along with his plan, you do as he told and go to meet him outside the room

Your breath catches in your throat as you see him with his hair down and makeup off, almost as if he was going incognito

“It’s a little cold to be wearing something like this, isn’t it?” you ask by way of announcing your presence

Sighing headily as he takes in the sight of you, he approaches and wraps his arms around you, his hands sneaking down to give your ass a squeeze

“It will make sense soon, I promise.” He grabs your coat off the rack and holds it out for you. “We need to get moving if we’re going to make it on time.”

You allow yourself to be swept up in his plan, which ends up with the two of you on a plane he had “borrowed” from Illumi and the Zoldycks, flying towards an unknown destination

“Seriously, Hisoka, what’s going on?” You demand, peering out the window for clues

“Relax, darling. Would I ever lead you wrong?” He pours you a drink and holds it out to you

You take it and flash him a dubious look. “Do you really want me to answer that question?”

“Fine. I’ll give you a hint. I’ve always hated the cold, so I want to take the opportunity of a romantic holiday to escape it with you.”

“That’s better, I suppose.” You sip your drink, noticing him look you up and down out of the corner of your eye

“I did an excellent job picking out that outfit for you,” he declares, cocking his head slightly sideways. “We still have a while to go. Why don’t we do something to keep busy?

You slide a bit closer to him, drawing a finger up and down his hip. “What did you have in mind?”

Hours later, when the plane finally arrives at the mystery destination, you find yourselves on a secluded island, approaching a quaint beach house that had been carefully prepared for your arrival

“Was this the surprise?” you gasp, staring at the scene in awe.

“It was. Some time away where we can pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist,” he replies with a self-satisfied smirk. “Are you pleased?”

“I am! This is perfect.”

He snakes his arm around your waist, leading you towards the entrance of the house. “Let’s get started, then.”

“I thought we already did get started.”

“Darling, you should know by now that what we did was only a warm up.”

Chrollo

Chrollo had been secretly planning a celebration for months, mapping out all of his operations around keeping that one special day open

On Valentine’s morning, he’s gone, but in his place is a tray of your favorite breakfast and a note instructing you to dress warm and be ready to leave by 7:00 that night

There are no other clues, so as you indulge in the breakfast, you wonder what he could have planned for you

Because with Chrollo, it could be anything

Meanwhile, he’s spending the day making all the last-minute preparations for your celebration, and hen the hour arrives, a knock sounds on your door

But instead of Chrollo, you find a driver that had been sent to take you to the date spot

You end up being driven so far outside of the city you halfway wonder if you’ve finally fallen victim to one of the revenge kidnappings Chrollo had always warned you about

Until the driver pulls up to the base of a massive hill, where your boyfriend waits with a smile on his face

“What on Earth have you planned this time?” You ask as he extends his hand to help you out of the car

“I’m a criminal mastermind, love. I simply cannot afford to be predictable.”

He leads you up to the top of the hill, where he set up a candlelight picnic on a blanket covered in rose petals, situated overlooking a fantastic view of the entire city

“Oh, Chro, it’s lovely,” you breathe, but can’t resist a shiver as you sit down and take the glass of wine he offered

He tuts. “I thought I told you to dress warm.”

“You didn’t leave much more information, so I wasn’t sure just how warm.”

“Well, then, I suppose it’s a good thing that I planned for this, too.”

He takes out a blanket and wraps it around both of your shoulders, and you enjoy your cozy meal whilst overlooking the lights of the city

“Let me guess,” you begin, reaching for yet another gourmet appetizer. “Everything here is stolen.”

“Why, of course it is.”

“And the Troupe is probably quite angry with you for sending them on such a trivial errand to get all of this.”

“Initially, but they were alright with it when I offered them half of the spoils for their own enjoyment.”  He shifts, pulling something from his coat pocket. “But I’d like to give you something that, for the first time in years, I haven’t stolen.”

“You actually bought something?” You gasp incredulously, taking the small box in your hands.

“Sort of. I had it made.” He shrugs. “I wanted it to be perfect.”

With him looking over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, you flip open the top of the box and discover a ring, the delicate silver band formed in the shape of an elegant spider web, tiny diamonds glistening at the points

Once you’ve taken the sight of it in, Chrollo takes the ring out of the box and slides it on your finger

“Since you’re reluctant to get a Troupe tattoo, I wanted something else to symbolize.”

“To symbolize what?” You ask, admiring how the ring glistens in the candlelight.

“To symbolize that you’re my home,” he replies with a cheesy, almost joking expression, but his eyes sparkled with truth. “Do you like it?”

“Chro, I love it.”

The corners of his lips turn upward as he cups your cheek

“And I love you.”

Illumi

Honestly, Illumi had never even heard of Valentine’s Day before you came along

So, needless to say, no plans to celebrate were made until he was out for drinks with Hisoka the night before and Illumi was asked what he was going to do to celebrate

He just blinked, completely confused

“You know, people tend to get very upset if their partners don’t do anything for Valentine’s Day. They’ve probably got something planned for you,” Hisoka teased.

When Illumi was still staring at him with a blank expression, Hisoka explained the concept and helped Illumi make some last-minute arrangements

So, when you wake up on the morning of Valentine’s Day, you find an ornate vase full of orchids and a box of luxury chocolates sitting at the end of your bed

Gotta use and abuse the Zoldyck family funds, you know

You’re overjoyed and pleasantly surprised

Honestly you had expected nothing at all, so assuming that the flowers and chocolates were the entirety of your surprise for the day, you happily go about the rest of your own Valentine’s plans: a day of self-care and self-love

Dating an assassin with a personality like Illumi’s was rewarding, but also immensely challenging, so you definitely deserved it

In light of cliche and tradition, you decide to make some fondue for yourself, and are just getting ready to serve it when you turn around to find Illumi standing behind you in the kitchen

You let out a startled yelp and drop the spoon you’re holding

“Illumi, you scared me!”

“I thought I’ve been teaching you about awareness lately. You should’ve sensed my presence.”

“I was just distracted. Besides, I wasn’t expecting you to be here at all. I thought you were supposed to be working tonight.”

“I just learned what ‘Valentine’s Day’ is. I rearranged the plan so that I could come spend the evening with you.”

You sense a warm feeling spreading across your chest, and have to fight the urge to swallow him in a hug.

“Well, perfect timing. I was just about to serve dinner.”

The two of you share a two-course fondue, then settle in on the couch

Illumi wasn’t really a TV person, so you play some music softly in the background and gaze out the window as rain begins to fall outside

As you lay with Illumi’s arm folded around your waist, you reflect that your quiet Valentine’s Day was a little less than orthodox, but the peace it brought was exactly what the both of you desperately needed

#ryn writes #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter imagines #hunter x hunter fanfic #hunter x hunter scenarios #hunter x hunter preferences #hunter x hunter fluff #kurapika kurta #kurapika #kurapika imagine #kurapika x reader #hisoka morrow #hisoka #hisoka imagine #hisoka x reader #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo #chrollo imagine #chrollo x reader #illumi zoldyck #illumi imagine #illumi x reader

[valdomarxxx]

There was only one bed? Well, @whataboutthebard, I know just the story. Forgive me if it's one you've heard before.

~

We are invited to court, and begged to perform. Some cousin of a cousin of the king, a far-flung royal offshoot with more money than he knows what to do with and more pretension than he’s earnt. In truth, he’s hired more than just the two bards who orbit the centre of this story; musicians and dancers and an orchestra, singers from far-flung climes to demonstrate how worldly and knowledgeable he is.

(It does not matter that the cousin-of-a-cousin has never stepped foot out of Verden. It is the appearance that counts.)

He has chosen us, he claims, because we are the most recent and second-most-recent winners of the Oxenfurt Bardic Competition. This will demonstrate how entrenched he is in the community, and how much he supports the arts.

We are led upstairs to the less fine wing of the keep, and I realise that he could have supported the arts more effectively by paying us a good wage, and - more to the point - supplying us with decent sleeping accommodations.

There is only one bed.

We look at each other. We look at the servant who has escorted us here.

“There appears to be some mistake,” I say, just as you speak - “And where is the other room?”

The servant raises her eyebrows at us. “No mistake,” she says. “You can take it or leave it. He won’t be granting you better.” She pauses, watching us, weighing us up. “Count yourselves lucky,” she says. “The flutist from Ebbing is sleeping on the floor with the servants. The group from Vicovaro are in the barn. The only place not teeming with musicians is the pig sty. But by all means, feel free to take it up with his Lordship if it displeases you.”

I peer at you. It could displease me more. It’s been some time since friendship became something slightly spikier, since those long sleepless nights at the academy. But I hesitate to call us rivals or enemies; the animosity between us is all for show.

At least, I think it is all for show.

(Later, I cannot be so sure.)

And… I look away from you, looking to the floor, looking to the single bed placed in the centre of the room like a steel-jawed trap. There are worse places to be.

Like the pig sty, for example. We thank the servant, who purses her lips and leaves.

“So,” you say. You throw your things to the bed.

“So.” I agree. I place my things beside yours.

It promises to be a long night.

The performance goes well. Even the most boorish employer can be tolerated when you have a captive audience and talented accompaniment, and it’s clear that the musicians gathered for the event are of the highest calibre. It’s been some time since we performed together, and we slip into the duet surprisingly easily, sliding back into two harmonising halves of a whole.

We close our set to applause and cheering, and - to both of our surprise - are led into a side chamber where we are given the real payment for our labours: food and wine. It is by no means as fine as the feast currently being served in the adjacent hall, but it’s better than I can expect in the Academy or you can expect on the road, and we settle into a long evening celebrating a successful performance.

That damned bed settles in the back of my mind like a ghost, like an itch I cannot scratch. Even when we laugh over old memories or bicker over which bottle to open next, I am thinking about what awaits us up the flight of servants’ stairs.

I am catastrophizing, I know. It is just a bed. Two nights - for we have been asked to perform tomorrow, too - and sweet sleep. Or not so sweet: as I have already mentioned, you snore, and I am not relishing the idea of those snorting grunts pressed so closely against my ear.

Yet—

No. I push down the thought, and return to the celebration, all the while waiting for the world to quietly end.

And it does, eventually. The food cleared away and the wine passed along to the next group of troubadours, we make our way up the stairs towards the room. Towards our room. We shuffle inside in silence, and before the door has shut you’re already stripping from your performance finery. You don’t even hesitate, and I suppose this is what travelling with a companion for so many years does to you; although you were never shy about your body in the same way I am.

I tug away my doublet hastily yet carefully, followed by my breeches - together they cost more than the pay we’re due to receive for tonight’s work. You are already in the bed, and for a moment I hesitate. I could sleep on the floor. It would not be a comfortable night, but the wine has made my bones feel soft and I have, after all, slept in worse places. It would be no hardship to pillow my clothes, however expensive they are, beneath my head and lie upon the wooden boards to—

“Valdo.” Your voice is sure in the dark. “Get in the bed.”

I do as you ask. The sheets are already body-warm, the mattress sagging where you lay just half a foot away. I lower myself to the edge, opening the space between us, muscles stiffening as I petrify, my body melding into immovable stone.

But not immovable enough. I feel you twist beside me, hear you sigh, can tell that even now you’re rolling your eyes at me. My senses, already heightened, light up, and then—

Your hand on my arm. You do not pull me closer, you do not tug or claw or grab or demand. You barely brush my skin. But still I move, still I follow that touch, still I turn onto my side until I’m facing you. You’re facing me, too.

“You get used to sharing a bed on the road,” you say, like we were halfway through another conversation. “It barely feels odd anymore when I and—”

“Please.” I cut you off. I try to sound biting instead of sad. “I do not need to hear about your witcher this evening.”

“No,” you reply. “I… I don’t think I want to talk about him, either.”

You move closer. Our ankles touch, of all things, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My heartbeat quickens; I pray for it to still and quieten. You yawn, and the gape cracks into a sleepy smile.

It’s easier, suddenly. Your hand is still upon my arm, and your skin is warm, and the bed is soft despite the cramped space. I turn onto my back, and feel your arm snake its way across my chest, towards my shoulder. I pull you close; I couldn’t do anything else but wrap my arms around you.

I expect to lie awake for hours, the lavender and chamomile scent of your hair filling my nose, muddling my mind. But you're warm, and soft, and gentle, and soon I feel myself drifting away, the pressure of your head against my chest making me painfully aware of every breath I take.

I sleep, and dream of—

I dream of you.

The next morning we wake slowly, dress slowly, eat slowly. We perform quick and fast and turbulent, garnering even louder applause, even greater accolades. It passes in a blur.

That night, we fall back into our shared bed. That night, we do not sleep at all.

#what about the bard #jaskier #there was only one bed

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (Pt. 9)

Pairing: JJ x Reader / Topper x Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: swearing, mild smut, angst, fluff

Part Summary: Y/N goes to see JJ after the party and she begins to think everything will work out

Masterlist

The Pogues are gathered around the bonfire, chatting over a couple of beers and joints. JJ keeps checking his phone every few minutes, wondering why you haven't texted him yet. You agreed for him to pick you up at your house at eleven, but he wants to wait for your text saying you're home. He's considered just going over anyway, assuming you're already there since dinner would've ended at least two hours ago. Before he has the chance to even rise to his feet to go, you and Topper roll up the driveway. None of the Pogues recognize the gray BMW, except Sarah. 

“Is that Topper dropping off Y/N?” She frowns in confusion as the car comes to a steady halt at the end of the gravel drive. 

Pope presses his fingers to his temples, wide-eyed. “Am I hallucinating?” 

“Okay, enough weed for me," Kiara declares, passing the joint to John B. 

Topper stops the car and turns to you. “You’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you nod, collecting your bag between your legs. 

“Call or text if you need me,” he instructs, still somewhat reluctant to drop you off. 

“Will do,” you offer him a reassuring smile. 

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow," he complies, leaning over the divider and planting a quick peck to your cheek. “Love you.” 

“Love you too,” you return, granting him a kiss on the cheek as well. You climb out of Topper's car, walking toward the fire pit where JJ and everyone watch you utterly dumbfounded. “Hi guys,” you greet, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 

“Topper knows his way around The Cut?” John B pokes fun. 

“Did he drop you off to scope out the place?” Kiara grumbles. 

“He didn’t want me driving," you explain as you take a seat next to a silent JJ. "We went to Kelce’s for a little after dinner and I’ve been drinking." 

“What a gentleman,” Sarah mumbles sarcastically. 

“Hi Baby,” JJ greets you with a soft smile, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“Hi,” you grin, leaning in and planting a kiss to his lips to which he reciprocates. 

“I could’ve picked you up,” he whispers against your lips. 

“I know," you state, parting from him for a second. "I just didn’t want to make you do the drive." 

“I’m surprised Topper let you out of the car,” Sarah snickers. 

“We came to an understanding,” you describe vaguely. 

“Oh yeah?" Kiara raises a brow. "What’s that?” 

“We’re just friends,” you reply confidently. 

“I don’t just kiss my friends goodbye...” John B mumbles under his breath. 

“We’re just friends," you reiterate, starring the boy down warningly. 

“You bet you are,” JJ agrees, pulling you into his side. “I missed you today.” 

“I missed you too," you blush, peering over to meet his gaze. 

“Movie anyone?” John B suggests suddenly rising to his feet. 

“Yes!” Sarah bursts. 

“Comedy!” Pope votes. 

“Romance!” Kiara challenges. 

“Actually," JJ sighs, standing up next to you. "I was going to head to bed, wanna come?” He asks as he glances down at you.

You hum. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired actually." 

____________________________________________

You and JJ lay in bed, facing each other as you talk about everything under the sun. You could've watched the movie considering you've been up for hours talking, not once trying to fall asleep. Yet, spending hours laying in bed, talking to JJ, is a much better pass time. 

“Fish tacos from The Wreck,” JJ answers without a moment's hesitation. 

“Ooo, you know I’ve never been there,” you confess, intrigued. 

“Really?!" JJ's eyes grow wide. "We’ll have to go ASAP! Kie’s dad makes the best hush puppies,” he dramatically gestures with his hands. 

You giggle, “sounds amazing.” 

“Okay, now your turn." JJ's arm drapes over you and rubs his hand up and down your back. 

“Hmm," you hum, thinking it over. "My grandma’s chicken and dumplings. She always made it when I was sick and it’s like a warm hug.”

“Yum," he grins. “Dream vacation?”

“Anywhere with a beach,” you answer easily. “I love to travel, but I also love the ocean so can’t be too far from it. You?”

“Surfing trip around the world," he nods, clearly having thought about it before. "I’m talking Australia, Japan, Brazil, all over.”

“Surfing world tour. Very surfer Pogue of you,” you tease playfully. 

“Would a Kook Princess like to come?” He offers with a sly smirk as his eyes fall to the small space between you. 

“Sure I’ll follow,” you accept with a soft smile. 

JJ jokingly nudges you on the shoulder with a slight blush to his cheeks. “Stop," he chuckles. "If anything you pick the places and I follow. Follow you around the world.”

“You would?” You narrow your eyes at him with a smirk. 

“What’s that Carol King song?” He tries to recall and whispers some of the words. “Where you lead...”

“I will follow," you add in a sing-songy tone. 

“Anywhere!” You both say in unison to each other, causing you two to laugh. 

JJ exhales deeply, catching his breath after laughing.“Talking to you is so easy it’s scary," he confesses, taking your hand in his between you two. 

“I never felt so understood until I met you,” you tell him. 

His brows scrunch together as he watches your hands move around one another. “You don’t think Topper understands you?”

“I do... to an extent,” you shrug, not fully convinced. “He’s known me longer, so he knows why I am the way I am, but he’s not necessarily accepting of all of it.”

“What do you mean?” JJ wonders aloud.  

“If I told him that I don’t want to go to every party and rather stay in, he’d wonder why. If I said I don’t like the Club and rather spend a day on some remote island somewhere he wouldn’t relate. I could tell you that I want to move to Guam and you’d be game for it. Some days I don’t want to have any responsibilities or social obligations which confuses Topper. He’s satisfied where he is. He’s satisfied being stationary and though I’m told I have everything, I don’t want any of it." You pause, finding yourself coming to a hard conclusion. You peer up at JJ who's eyes have left your hands and pour into you. "There has to be more right? There has to be something different out there.”

“Life beyond the OBX?" He seek to clarify to which you nod. "Yeah, there’s an entire world outside of here!”

“That’s what I want..." You whisper. "Something entirely my own and somewhere where no one knows me.” 

“Maybe we should explore it together,” he smiles gently with content. “I mean, as long as it’s okay for one person to know you.” 

“You don’t count," you blush. 

JJ releases your hand, bringing his own to caress your cheek. “I want to see the world with you." 

You lean into his touch, his warmth making you feel safe, seen, and understood. “I think that can be arranged...”

JJ shakes his head, as though he's come to a profound realization. “You’re everything to me." His words slip by in a whisper as he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, sealing his statement. 

You run your fingers through JJ's hair, pulling him in deeper. He smiles against your lips, loving your reaction. He moves to hover over you, encompassing you with his body. You take matters into your own hands and press JJ down to lay down beside you. Swiftly, you move to straddle him. A grunt leaves him and you cower slightly. 

"Did I hurt you?!" You nearly panic. 

“No, no,” he’s quick to assure you, bringing his hand to your face and brushing your hair back. 

You hadn’t noticed when he got into bed, the bruises and cuts scattered across his torso. You remember them from the Boneyard and in the hot tub. You had thought perhaps they were from Topper. 

JJ can tell that your mind isn’t satisfied. "What else is troubling you?" He frowns. "Babe, look at me, please."

"If these weren't Topper, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it,” he scrunches his face with a shake of the head. “Don't worry, it's taken care of,” he tries to change the subject, reaching up to kiss you. 

You gasp. "Did someone do this to you?!" You quickly realize. 

"Y/N..."JJ exhales deeply. 

"JJ, I have to know!” You argue. “If someone-"

"It was my dad okay!" He confesses. 

You heart sinks has the dark reality hits you like a ton of bricks. 

"He... he gets mad sometimes..."JJ describes, looking anywhere but you. He begins to fidget with the hem of your shirt. When... When things weren’t good between us... I picked a fight with him. It was stupid. I shouldn't have done it, but I did! I think I wanted it. At least then I could control the pain,” he explains, killing you.

You lean down and plant a gentle, comforting kiss to his lips. When you pull back, JJ stares at you, stunned by the action. You swallow hard as you slide down, keeping eye contact with him as you plant a kiss to his bruised peck. JJ’s heart begins to race as he watches you. You continue on your path to his multicolored rib. JJ’s hand brushes over the top of your head gently. Your fingers curl under the hem of his boxers as you leave a trail of kisses over his cut and bruised stomach. 

"Y/N..." He breathes heavily as his eyes fall shut. 

"Never again,” you tell him warningly as a demand. “You never go back there. Here, Kie's, Pope's, my place, anywhere else but there. Morning, noon, or night, you need a place, come to me. You hear me?"

JJ nods, too consumed in you to voice anything. 

"I see marks like these on you again, I'll kill him and they won't find the body. I've seen enough crime documentaries. I can be like Liam Nison in Taken,” you joke slightly. 

"I'm sure you could," JJ smirks, peering down at you. 

You lift yourself up to hover just above his face. You cup his cheeks, making him look you in the eyes. "I'm never going to leave you, ever! You never have to suffer alone again. I promise. Your pain is my pain. Whatever you inflict on yourself you also do on me."  

"I promise too. You're my world, Y/N,” he tells you and you know he means it. “You're my life now."

Suddenly, there's a ruckus coming from outside in the hall. The sound of the screen door slamming against the frame and shouting. 

“Hey! Hey! Hey! I’ll go get her! You stay here!” You hear John B yell. 

“Like I’d listen to you!” Another voice barks. 

You break from JJ, trying to listen. “What’s going on?” 

“I don’t know,” he frowns, peering over at the door. He climbs off of you and slips out of the bed. He grabs a t-shirt from the chair in the corner and pulls it over his head, his boxers still slightly exposed. 

“JJ, be careful!” You beg, worried that it could be someone looking for trouble. 

"I will, Baby. It's okay," he promises, heading toward the door to check it out. 

“Cool off Topper!” Pope shouts before you hear a bang. 

“Topper?” You mumble in disbelief, flying off the bed and toward the door.

“Y/N!" JJ grabs your wrist as you open the door. "Baby, wait!” 

Before he has the chance to stop you, you stumble into the hallway. JJ rushes out of the bedroom, nearly running into you. Standing at the end of it, in the archway of the living room, Topper turns his attention away from the Pogues. His eyes land on you and a wave of relief consumes him. 

“Y/N...” Your name falls from his parted lips faintly. 

“Topper...” You stand frozen. 

“There is almost an equal Kook to Pogue ratio in this house and I don’t like it,” Pope huffs from behind Topper. 

“I need to talk to you," the tall blonde announces urgently. 

You speed walk down the hall, despite JJ's efforts to stop you. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I just... I... uh...” Topper stutters, nervously avoiding your gaze, and focuses on the small floor space between you. 

“Have you been drinking again?" You question, coming to the conclusion he has. He smells of beer and weed, more than he did hours ago. "Did you go back to Kelce’s!” 

“I was losing my mind, Y/N!" He bursts, uncharacteristically, causing you to jump and JJ to step forward toward you. "I needed a distraction, but nothing was working!” Topper explains in a rush, all fidgety. “Can we just go somewhere to talk?” 

JJ immediately steps in, moving to stand between the two of you. “You’re not going anywhere with her!” 

“Oh shove it,” Topper snaps at JJ. 

“You forget you’re on my side of the island, Kook!” JJ barks, shoving Topper in the chest. 

“Enough!” You scream, pressing a palm to each of their chests. “For Pete’s sake!” 

“Back off JJ!” Kiara yells. 

“I just need to talk to you,” Topper pants. 

You exhale deeply, glancing between JJ and Topper. You know JJ won't approve and won't allow it without a fight, but you agree to speak with Topper. “Okay, let’s go outside.” 

JJ laughs, pacing around. “You can’t be serious-” 

“Ten minutes!” You shout at him, escorting Topper toward the door. 

“She sure told you,” Topper mocks JJ as he backs up to the exit. 

“Oh shut up,” you grumble, urging Topper through the doorway leading to the front yard. 

You and Topper settle down on the hammock, swinging back and forth on the edge, side by side. The sun has long since set and the lights in the large tree illuminate the yard. Unable to sit still, Topper rises from his spot and paces in front of you. 

“What’s going on Topper?” You ask worriedly. 

The boy stops, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck nervously. “I’m losing my mind, Y/N!" He finally breaks his silence. "I feel like there are weights strapped to me and I’m being pulled to the bottom of the ocean, struggling for air!” He rushes out in a pant. “I’ve been an arrogant ass and too scared to pay attention, but now I’m just scared and I’m afraid if I don’t tell you this now that I’ll never get a chance like this again!” 

You stand, taking his hands in yours. "Just take a deep breath!" 

He yanks his hands free of your hold, running his fingers through his hair as he paces away. "I'm about to be the most selfish person on the planet!" 

“Topper, just say it! It can't be that bad!" You try to reassure him, the pit in your stomach growing with each passing minute. You can only assume the worst. 

“I love you!” Topper bursts out, meeting your gaze pleadingly. 

A weight lifts off your shoulder. You thought it was something bad. “That's it? I love you too,” you laugh lightly. 

“No!" He stops you. "Not the way you mean it... it’s not the same! I love you!” 

Neither of you notice the Pogues hiding in the enclosed patio, watching everything go down. 

“I knew it!” Pope announces from his spot by the window. 

“Pay up!” Kiara holds out her hand to John B. 

JJ's heart sinks when he hears the confession leave Topper. He wants to run for the hills, but he can't help but observe you stand there in shock. 

Topper's chest rises and falls rapidly. “I didn’t realize it fully until I dropped you off and saw you with him. I know what I said earlier, that I’m okay with this!" The words fly out of him like a freight train going full speed. “But I’m not! I’ve been in love with you for two years! Before Sarah, during Sarah, after her!” 

“Okay ouch...” Sarah mumbles from her spot on the patio. 

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, I’ve just been too caught up in everything else to notice!" Topper's voice cracks with emotion. 

"You tell me this now!" You shout, growing more frustrated with each passing second. 

He sighs, "I know, I know, I'm sorry-" 

"No! You don't get to apologize!" You snap at him, utterly pissed off and frankly hurt. "You could've had me! You had me, Topper!" You correct as your eyes begin to swell with tears. "You had every opportunity to change the status quo and you didn't! You let me feel like a toy, there to satisfy you when you needed company! Yes, it was fun! Yes, it was great sex! Yes, I fed into the holding and touching, even when you and Sarah were on a break because I thought..." You swallow hard, processing what you're about to say. "Because I thought that eventually, you'd love me!" You break, tears falling down your cheeks. You finally let go of a truth you've been holding in for years now. "If I kept sleeping with you that one day you'd realize that we were more than just friends! Everyone else thought it! But you were caught up on Sarah and then it became not letting Sarah be with John B! I had to break it off after Bermuda because it was killing me! I couldn't take it anymore! I had to begin to move on!" 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm such an idiot!" Topper rushes up to you, taking your hands in his pleadingly. "Tonight, feeling you again, I saw the rest of our lives and I want it! I don’t give a shit about our friends or golfing or the Club or Sarah because none of it matters if I don’t get to experience it with you!” He begs, “so pick me! Be with me! Love me!” 

You whimper, unsure of what to do or say. Everything is happening so fast. 

"You slept with him?" 

You turn over your shoulder to find JJ standing just a few feet away. His eyes glisten under the lights of the tree. He swallows hard, taking your silence as enough of an answer. He nods his head, pressing his lips together to hold back his emotions.

“You’re exactly as everyone says!” He yells, pointing at you aggressively. 

In a second, he's sprinting away down the gravel drive. You step forward, ready to run after him, but Topper grabs your wrist. 

"Y/N, don't!" He pleads. 

You yank your wrist free, before running him. "JJ!" You call, "JJ wait!" 

"Y/N!" Topper shouts, running after you. 

"JJ!" You beg for him to stop. 

"Y/N, wait!" Topper grunts, sprinting. 

"JJ!" You struggle to keep up with the boy. Soon, he disappears into the dark woods across the street and you have no choice but to halt, losing all hope. 

You fall to your knees on the gravel. The sound of Topper's feet hitting the gravel quickly approaching. You slam your fists to the ground with a scream, hitting your boiling point. How much is a girl expected to take? 

______________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez @plutooryectors

#topper imagine #topper outer banks #topper #topper obx #topper thornton #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank fic #jj #kiara obx #kiara carrera #kiara #pope #obx fanfiction #obx jj #rafe obx #obx #sarah cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe #john b #john b routledge #john b imagine

[sky-berrie]

Goodnight - Damian

Summary: Damian pays you a visit at night ft. the one bed trope.

It was a typical eerie night in Gotham and as usual, you spent it alone in your room. You were completely engrossed in the murder documentary streaming on your laptop, the game of Tetris on your cell phone, and the barbeque potato chips you were shoving into your mouth. You were so unaware of your surroundings that you jumped right out of your seat and yelped when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Relax, Y/N,” said Damian, casually. “It is only me.” He was dressed in his Robin uniform. It was clean which meant that he was probably unharmed.

You scowled at him as your felt your heart beat wildly against your ribcage. Your eyes traveled to the open window. You were certain that you had secured the latch, added the anti-lift bar and activated the alarm not twenty minutes ago. Your newfound interest in murder mysteries kept you awake a night, so you amped up your security to give yourself some peace of mind. It should have been impossible for anyone to break in, but here Damian was, standing inside your apartment bedroom.

“Stop abusing your power like that,” you scolded.

“Stop leaving yourself vulnerable,” he countered, without missing a beat.

“I didn’t! Did you not see the steel bar and alarm?” you said with indignation. You had to wonder how he managed to slip in. In another life, he could be a magician, you thought.

“Indeed, I did notice,” he said. “It is quite the cute little system you have.” His smirk was as condescending as ever.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting a big reaction out of you.

Damian’s expression softened. “I am glad that you installed that, though. Now I do not have to worry so much about you when I am away.”

You had no idea how to formulate a response to a comment that was not an insult or sarcasm. You awkwardly changed the subject instead, “So… you need something or…?”

Damian looked at you expectantly as if he was waiting for you to continue. “Do not end your sentence with a conjunction,” he chastised you. “Proper grammar is imperative for effective communication.” You rolled your eyes again. Sometimes he was insufferable.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. And sometimes he was almost sweet.

His gloved finger gently tipped your face upwards so he could inspect it thoroughly. You found his concern rather considerate until he opened his mouth again. Damian’s face contorted into an expression of disgust before he said, “You are beginning to look like Drake.” Although Tim was very attractive, you knew how Damian felt about his adoptive brother. His statement was not to be mistaken as a compliment.

You pulled away and rolled your eyes again. “Got it. You came here to annoy me. Mission accomplished. You ready to leave now?” You pointed to the window.

“I am being serious, Y/N, you look unwell…” He looked around your desk space with a horrified expression. “And I can see why. When was the last time you slept?”

“Uh,” you blew a raspberry as you thought about it. “Yester…today?” you said, but it came out as a question. Damian looked unimpressed. “No, today. Definitely today,” you stated with more confidence.

You could tell Damian didn’t buy it. “What day is it today?” he challenged.

Your eyes roamed around the room in search of clues. The date and time weren’t visible on your electronics. You took a stab in the dark. “Saturday.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “It is Sunday night.”

“Oh…” you pursed your lips sheepishly. Sometimes the days blurred together.

“That is it,” he said with finality. He closed your laptop. “You are banned from watching murder mysteries videos at night.” He went for your phone next. He raised it up for you to see your game of Tetris disappearing as he powered it off. “I am confiscating your phone every evening from now on.”

“What?” you whined, lunging out for your phone. Damian tucked it away and out of reach in the inner pocket of his uniform.

“You are getting time limits. Blue light disrupts your circadian rhythm - no laptop or phone after 10 pm.” He grabbed the crinkly chip bag. “And these, well, you really should not eat these ever. Do you know how much sodium is in this bag? Your arteries will know.” He tossed the half-empty bag into the trash can beside your desk.

“No!” You protested. He had no right to order you around.

“Yes,” he asserted. You watched him fluff up your pillows, tuck the sheets firmly under the mattress, and smooth out the bed spread. “You are going to bed now. Get in.” He lifted the covers for you.

“Yeah, no thanks,” you chuckled humourlessly. You just wanted to finish watching the unsolved mystery of the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902 and be so terrified that you can’t sleep for the next three days.

“Y/N,” he said sternly, indicating that he wasn’t in the mood for an argument.

“Fine,” you grumbled. You knew Damian was stubborn and wouldn’t take no for an answer. You figured that you would get in bed to appease him and get rid of him, then you could resume watching your video.

You stomped extra loudly across your room to make a point. You huffed loudly as you crawled into bed. He pulled the covers up to your chin and tucked you in as if you were a little kid.

“Good night,” said Damian.

“Yeah, bye,” you replied impatiently.

Your eyes following Damian as he flicked off your lamp. Once your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized that Damian was taking off his Robin uniform. He stripped down to his undershirt and hung the tunic over the back of your chair before sitting down. “What are you doing?” you asked, raising yourself up on your forearms.

“I am going to stay,” he said, like it was the most normal sentence in the entire world.

“Um, come again?”

“I know you are afraid to go to sleep, so I will stay and make sure you feel safe… even though it is self inflicted fear and I ought to leave you so you learn your lesson. I do not know why you insist on watching murder mysteries knowing that you are going to be frightened.”

“While that’s a very nice offer, it’s also super unnecessary. I’m okay,” you lied. You couldn’t let him stay overnight in your chair just because you had an overactive imagination.

Damian raised a hand to silence your argument. “It is not up for debate. I will stay right here and you will get some sleep.”

“But you need to sleep, too,” you reasoned.

Damian shrugged. “I will make do here.”

Your throat was suddenly dry as you prepared to make a compromise. “You could… sleep… here… in my bed?” You prayed that he wasn’t repulsed by your invitation to share your bed. You and Damian were just friends but somewhere along the way your feelings changed. You caught yourself noticing things about him that you found attractive… like the way his eyes were so expressive and always told you what he was thinking… or how he carried himself with strength and confidence, even if it could be annoying sometimes.

You held your breath in anticipation. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. “Okay,” he casually accepted. While you were relieved that he wasn’t mortified by the thought of sharing your bed, you were a nervous wreck now.

You shuffled over to the very edge of your twin sized bed to make room for Damian. As he lay down, the side of his warm arm brushed against yours. You skittishly scooted away but tumbled out of bed.

Damian peered over the edge of the bed and his brows knit together in confusion. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly to sound normal. You tittered nervously as you climbed back under the covers. This time you lay on your side and faced away from him to put some distance between you two and to hide your embarrassment.

“Come closer, Y/N. I do not want you to fall off again.”

You shifted infinitesimally closer.

“Closer,” instructed Damian.

You inched towards him but left a good distance separating you two.

“There’s plenty of space here,” he encouraged.

You quickly came up with an excuse. “I toss and turn in my sleep. I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

Damian let out a hearty laugh.

“What?” you asked with indignance. You rolled over onto your back so you could see him.

“Nothing,” he denied, stifling his mirth.

“Tell me,” you demanded.

“The thought of you, in your footie pajamas, thinking that you could injure a highly skilled assassin, is quite comical. Don’t flatter yourself. Now, come here and go to sleep.” Damian patted the empty space beside him.

This time you listened and moved towards the centre of the bed. You were so close to Damian that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. The warmth was drawing you even closer to him but you reprimanded yourself and forced yourself to remain eerily still to avoid another accidental contact. Damian turned his head and you felt his eyes on you. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” you squeaked. You bit you lip anxiously. Your hand played with a loose thread on the blanket.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” you said, this time more confidently although you weren’t fooling him.

“You need not be afraid of the dark, Y/N, especially when I am here.”

You knew that already. You always felt safe when you were with Damian, even before you knew he was Robin. There was something comforting about his self-assurance that made situations less scary. But that’s not what was making you jittery.

“Why do you bother watching murder mysteries? They always overlook clues and never investigate thoroughly. Besides, you have a real detective right here,” Damian said, with a tone of umbrage.

You shrugged and tilted your head. “They’re fun,” was your simple answer.

Damian cocked an eyebrow. “Being so petrified that you cannot sleep alone is fun?”

“I don’t know. I guess I admire you for being Robin.” You don’t know why you said that. You really shouldn’t be feeding his ego. It’s big enough as it is. You kept talking, against your better judgement. “Watching you solve mysteries and fight for justice got me interested in true crime.”

Damian only hummed in response. He was quiet for a while and you thought that maybe he had drifted to off to sleep. Finally, he said, “Would you like to know who committed the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902?”

You gasped and turned on your side to face him. You were only a few inches away from him now, but you didn’t even register his proximity. Your anxiety was long forgotten and replaced by curiosity. “You know who did it?”

“Of course,” he confirmed.

“How?” you breathed with skepticism. The case had been undertaken by several of the most high-profile detectives and private investigators over the decades and none were able to solve it. In fact, no new leads had been uncovered in the last eighty years.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Batman and Robin are, without a doubt, the best detective duo in history. Not to mention, that case was child’s play.”

You scoffed. “I don’t believe you. Show me some proof,” you said, calling his bluff.

“Very well, then. I will show you the file the next time you visit the manor.”

“If you’ve solved it, why don’t you tell the authorities then?”

“We have. It is connected to several active cases so the GCPD is not able to release any information to the public yet.”

You scrutinized his face, looking for any signs of a fib. He didn’t waver under your intense stare, but then again, he was accustomed to the batglare so your measly glare was probably ineffective. You decided to trust him. “Who did it?”

Damian turned on his side as well and propped up his head with his arm so that he could look down at you. He pretended to think about it, building up the suspense. “If you go to sleep now, I’ll tell you tomorrow morning,” he said, almost playfully.

“What?” you exclaimed.

“Better get to sleep right away,” he warned.

You couldn’t believe he would tease you like this. There was no way you’d be able to sleep knowing that the answer to the city’s most enigmatic mystery was lying right beside you. You huffed angrily and flopped back down onto your mattress.

Damian let out a deep laugh in response. You grabbed a spare pillow and tried to whack him, but he anticipated your attack and caught it. “Damian Wayne, you are the absolute worst.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #batboys imagine #batboys #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x y/n #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam x reader #batfam x y/n #robinchicklets

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things-First Day Jitters (Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None.

A/N: There will be a Part 2 to this piece based on S3E10 in order to give some groundwork to the dynamics amongst the team once the reader joins them. Enjoy reading! I had so much fun making this piece. 

The Purest Things Masterlist

au! october 2007

"Criminal profiling is more of an art than a science. Modeling a criminal profile demands the precise marrying of psychological and rational instincts with the crime scene's particulars. What steps would you take in the process of analyzing a suspect to form a solid profile," the stoic BAU Section Cheif asks.

"First, I would want to accumulate all attainable information about the crime to help explain the "how" and "why" of the offense," you counter.

"What kind of information?"

"I'd want to acquire knowledge on the victim to examine the victimology. For example, I'd determine the victim's career and place of employment, friends, family, social status, criminal records, and daily routines and habits. Then, I can look at the connection between the victim and the unidentified subject. Did they know each other, or are they strangers? Why was the victim targeted, and was it them specifically, or are they just one quarry in a tangled web of attacks?"

You look for some signal in Cheif Strauss's attitude as to whether or not you should continue. 

Let’s ramp this up a notch. 

Taking the liberty of doing so regardless, you continue.

"Then, I want to know more about the attacker. I want to classify him...or her, as well as the offense. Why did it take place at a specific location? What is the motive? Is the suspect an amateur or a professional? This collection of data helps to assemble a proper crime assessment. I can now paint the picture of what happened before, during, and after the attack. Next, I can start to hypothesize and formulate a complete profile; I can deduce the kind of person we are dealing with. This assessment includes the age range, social status, what type of career he or she may hold, their I.Q., anything that describes the attacker. Now, I can give the profile to investigators and work to capture the assailant. The profile not only helps track him down but also helps refine the interrogation process."

Pausing the video recording, David sets the remote on the table.

"Academically, she's perfect for the job, Aaron. But will she fit in with the team? She seems too well trained, too straight from the textbook."

"That's why I wanted you to see this next part."

They both watch you in expectation.

"If I may Section Chief Strauss...as much as academic training benefits a student in laying the foundations for their selected career field, all of the studying and laboring over perfect grades becomes virtually obsolete once on the job. Instead, implementing the mechanics and learning through experience, trial, and error is far more beneficial. Executing what you've learned in the real world and refining your expertise in the field is the only way to accurately reveal whether or not you are capable of doing your job."

Rossi snickers at your straightforwardness. Aaron crosses his arms, struggling to fight back the urge to smile.

"Care to expound on that?" Strauss proposes.

"You don't trust the current...organization within the BAU. You feel as though Unit Cheif Hotchner and his team pose a threat to the unit. However, I think you put more emphasis on the chain of command. Specifically, you don't trust Agent Hotchner. In the entirety of this vetting process, you have continually undermined the Unit Chief's role in selecting a new agent. He has not been included in any of our telephone calls. Never once have you cc'd him on our emails. Nor has he been invited to sit in on our in-person interviews. I think the only time I've set eyes on him was in the lobby. He seemed to be completely unaware of my presence and purpose here. I'm sure that were I to be hired TodayToday, I could walk right into his office, and he would be blindsided entirely by my arrival and position on the team. Now, if I am to be apart of this renowned group of individuals, I want to know that I will be a part of it. I do not intend to be an outsider in my field or a pawn for higher-ups' ulterior motives. So, with all due respect Cheif Strauss, I would like to withdraw my application. If any of the aspects that I have touched on prove true and impact my role within this unit, I have no interest in undermining an established team that has no place for me."

Rossi claps Aaron on the shoulder, "She'll do just fine."

**********

You step inside the lobby of the FBI Academy. Although the sight is not new to you after your intense vetting process, it now takes on a new meaning. You have a new purpose. Processing your surroundings, you regard the entryway's clean efficiency. Considering the darkness that looms over this bureau, the lobby is welcoming all the same. 

So this is what my tax dollars have been paying for.

Noticing that an elevator has arrived, you call out to the person inside one of the many lifts. They hold it open for you. The sound of your clipping heels progresses as you run across the glossy tile floor. High heels may not seem like the most logical choice for your first day of work in the FBI, but when wearing them, you feel elevated. As if the world is your stage and you are the ballerina dazzling the crowd in her pointe shoes. Sure, they are uncomfortable at times, but wearing them can almost be considered a superpower. A quintessential accessory of the iconic femme fatale.

The woman in the elevator gasps as you climb on board, startling slightly.

"Are those Jimmy Choos?" She squeals.

You laugh and shake your head, peering down at the patent leather footwear, "No. I wish, though! They're just some old Steve Madden's I got on the clearance racks." Seeing her shoes, you imitate her enthusiasm, "Those are unique! I've never seen a green...quite that color on shoes before."

Chuckling, she thanks you, "Shoes are one of the many ways I express myself. I'm pretty sure at this point I have a pair of shoes in every color for every mood. Today I was feeling a little envious, so I chose this lime green."

"Envious?" You ask.

"There is a Doctor Who convention going on this weekend, and I have meet and greet tickets for the entire cast, but I've been called in on a case. Meanwhile, three of my friends from counterterrorism are on their way to meet David Tennant as we speak. So yes, I am envious."

"Oh my gosh, I heard about that! Catherin Tate is going to be there too. God, what I would give to meet Donna Nobel in the flesh."

"You watch Doctor Who?" Her eyes widen.

You shrug my shoulders, "I'm a bit of a self-proclaimed Whovian."

Shoving her bags underneath her shoulders to free her hands, she stretches them to you, "Penelope Garcia. We are going to be the best of friends."

Taking her hand in yours, you introduce yourself, "I'm Y/F/N/ Y/L/N. I look forward to having a best friend in the building. Today is my first day."

"Oh sweetie, you are going to do amazing," she looks up at the floor number as the elevator dings, "Well, this is my stop."

Stepping off alongside her, you notice her slight surprise. "Mine too," you announce proudly.

"Wait," she whispers, holding a hand up to your face in a stopping motion, "Today is your first day. Oh! Are you the newbie?"

"Today is my first day as a profiler at the BAU, yes."

Stomping her feet repeatedly, she cheers, "Oh, this day keeps getting better! My darling, you will fit in just fine. Now come with me. There's another fellow Whovian I'd like for you to meet."

Following her through the enormous glass doors and into the department, you can't help but feel slightly overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle. "Welcome to the bullpen," she turns around, beaming, "Oh! Spencer, come hither, the new girl is here!"

The young man spins around in his chair and raises his eyebrows, giving you a once-over; he strolls across the office to meet you. You can't tell if he is too tall or too thin. Perhaps, his head is just considerably big for his body, or his lengthy hair gives that illusion. When he nods at you, holding his hand out to greet you, he looks slightly like a little bobble-head doll.

"Dr. Spencer Reid at your service!" He melodically sings.

Nerdy pipe cleaner. I like him.

"It's a pleasure, Dr. Reid. I'm Y/F/N Y/L/N."

"I read you got a full ride through college and graduated from Berkley with a semester completed at the University of Kent for Psychology of Criminal Justice, and you have a degree in Forensic Psychology."

You nod, impressed by his research—time to dazzle him with yours.

"And you, Dr. Reid, attended Caltech. You completed your undergraduate degree at 16, and you hold Bachelor's degrees in Psychology, Sociology, and Philosophy. Very impressive."

"You forgot PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering," he adds.

You nod, "My apologies."

Breaking a tiny smile, he shifts his gaze to the floor as you notice the light tint of pink shading his cheeks. Unable to resist, you feel the heat rise to yours as well.

"Ah! You must be our newest recruit—Benvenuto nell'esperienza della tua vita," a gentle voice echoes from behind you.

Turning around, you see a familiar-looking, dapperly dressed older gentlemen gliding down the stairs to greet you.

"And you are Agent David Rossi. I attended one of your guest lectures at Berkley three years ago," you reach your hand out to meet his.

"Call me Dave, and you can thank me for inspiring your career choice later. Right now, we have a case. It looks like it'll be a first day via baptism by fire for you kiddo," he lifts his thick eyebrows and winks at you. David motions for you to follow his lead, and you eagerly journey behind him.  

In the conference room, you are met with the eager faces of four other new colleagues. The first to catch your eye is the herculean adonis, whose attention fixates on you. You watch as his eyes scour you top to bottom, taking your whole body in.

Four words. Sculpted by the gods. Where has he been all my life?

"Where have you been all my life?" The statuesque man purrs, running his thumb across his bottom lip.

Ha. Jinx. You can buy me a drink anytime.

"Hiding from men who lead an introduction with that," you strut over to shake his hand. A knot swirls in your stomach as your finger-tips touch, but you quickly dismiss it as mere infatuation.

Throwing his head back in laughter, he responds, "I like you already. Derek Morgan."

"It's nice to see you again," the bright, blue-eyed young woman you recognized as the media liaison smiles, "I'm Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me J.J." On the day of your first interview with Strauss, she offered you directions to the Section Chief's office.

Next, Agent Prentiss introduces herself. Her thick, raven-colored hair elegantly falls to her shoulders and encompasses her diamond-shaped face. There is a spirited as well as clever expression in her eyes.

Finally, Agent Hotchner stands up. You are taken aback by his astute and severe manner. He's taller than you recall, although you have only observed him from afar. Like most men, he seems to have become an automaton of the modern workplace, measured and valued just for his productivity and obedience. He is tense, most likely swallowing intense trauma and concealing it so he can get up each day and do the same tedious job again and again. Most men display these traits in the way they parent, becoming domineering companions, stacking decay over destruction until their home-life collapses. What remains is a mass of bitterness resentment.

Yet, he exhibits none of this. Beneath this rather tough exterior, you can discern that he is the kind of handsome that infiltrates your bones, that exudes an air of olden times before he's even said a word to you.

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