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gingergcnius · 3 years

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some of y'all asked for more quirrell!ghost , so here it is !

most of the flowers that grow in the room are mostly anemones , belledonnas , bittersweet , black eyed susans , columbines , daisies , iris , marigold , pansy , willow , and the newest addition to the room , zinnia .

the zinnias start growing after sybill's appearence , and increases whenever one of the professors or students come to visit and practice magic and quirinus sees they don't have sybill with them . ( or a boy with golden hair , dressed fine from head to toe and the biggest and ' attractive ' smile someone could have )

he likes to watch the students practice in his room , as long as they don't damage what he cannot regrow . ( and it's not like he can stop the tears , his visitors a constant reminder yet like cold water in a hot summer day ) . it reminds him of a faint memory from when he used to be a muggle studies professor .

though he doesn't talk much , he will nod and tilt his head from time to time to show that he is listening to the students , and that he is not ignoring them . ( he will always listen , even if he is floating way up from the ground , curled up into a ball and sobbing his heart out . )

he is the most calm with snape , often the potions professor would drag in a chair , a book under his arm , and he would spend time reading . he insists it's the quiet he seeks , and he is not doing this for the ghost . quirinus is dead , after all . he died a traitor , why should he care if he came back as a pathetic ghost ? is his answer when someone asks . ( he never once speaks those same words when he enters the room )

sybill comes to visit ( both arms trapped in a grip by minerva on one side , Pomona sprout on the other ) weeks after , eyes red and puffy . this time , when quirinus sets his blank eyes on her , no tears come . instead , he reaches for one of the bushes , and plucks a single zinnia and hands it to her . no one aside from pomona reacts , she brings a hand to her eye to wipe away a tear .

sybill keeps the flower in a glass cage , a thick book laid next to it on the table . it's quirrell's book of course .

it took her a long time to dig through the boxes that had collected dust very long ago , having to take small breaks to cry away from them ( these were his , he had cared so much , he would be angry if he learned there were tears on them that left stains . )

filius and Pomona decide that it's an excellent opportunity for further experiences and bring their classes down to quirrell's room from time to time . it gets the ghost to speak , and the students learn new things . it's worth the small smile , the quiet yet excited voice coming from the ghost as he explains the plants , their uses , and how to take care of them . he sometimes corrects students , showing them which way to flick their wand and when to thrust it to cast proper spells . though sometimes he will be far away , hidden in a corner , not even brave enough to face the older students if they decide to bring them here .

( they learn their lesson to avoid bringing the older students , when some , who remember what quirrell had done , reacted terribly and insulted the professor to the point where it took another two weeks before the professor appeared back in the room . and another few weeks before he started responding , stopped crying again and listening to what said to him . )

the first time he truly leaves his room ( the students had decided to call it that , since it was easier , and to avoid suspicion around umbridge ) is a true disaster . it is halfway and a bit after through the year , and a few of the students decide to hide in his room .

at first , he doesn't hear the soft cries of the young girl and two boys because of his own sobs , until she stars sobbing just as loud as him .

curious to why someone young as her would be in such devastating state , he floats up to her . if you were to ask what happened next , he couldn't tell .

one second he was staring at a terrible scar on the back of her hand , and the next he was floating down the corridors of Hogwarts , followed by the pleasing group of three , for him to stop to not do it .

they do not succeed .

the amount of noise they are making , of course attract the attention of the professors , and they are shocked when they see the professor floating through the halls . not a tear in sight , fury visible on his face . he is angry , and you do not get in the way of a pissed ghost . ( not that you can , of course . )

for the first time , his eyes are focused , no longer unseeing .

he doesn't even bother knocking , he goes right through the door , and people hold their breath .

he just crashed Umbridge's lesson .

due to the lack of slammed door , it takes a while until umbridge notices the ghost .

" um . . professor ?— " " i do not remember seeing a raised hand , or me giving you permission to speak , Mr Potter . detention , after class in my offi— "

she gets cut off by a gasp , because glaring down at her is no other than the ghost of quirinus quirrell , the former DADA professor

" no . " his voice echoes in the room .

" p-pardon ? "

" . . i s-said , n o . " this time , his voice is much , much louder . it's the loudest he had ever spoken in months .

" y-you w-will not torture a-any o-of the students ! "

" i don't think a ghost has a say in how i punish my students ! "

a few minutes of silence , and umbridge takes that as a win .

it is not .

it's when a hand lands harshly on her shoulder , and practically throws her around , true panic settles in .

because normal ghosts are not supposed to be able to interact with objects , let alone another human being . and quirrell ? quirrell is inches away from her face , eyes a bright red , and he is not happy .

" do you . . k-k-know how i-i d-died ? i died w-when a d-dark lord p-possessed m-me . i struggled , f-for months , f-fighting a-against him . he punished me t-too . and you . . y-you r-remind me t-too much of Voldemort— " he is cut off when no other than sybill trelawney slams the door open , gasping and wheezing as if she ran a marathon . wide eyes searching until they land on the ghost . only then , she relaxes .

apologizing , she moves over to quirinus , softly talking to him and leading him out of the classroom .

the language of flowers are from a site i looked up , so if they're not accurate i am very sorry . I'm not very good with flowers :

anemone: forsaken , sickness

belledonna: silence

black eyed Susan: justice

bittersweet: truth

columbine: foolishness , folly

red columbine: anxious , trembling

daisies: innocence , hope

iris: a message

marigold: despair , grief , jealousy

pansy: thoughts

willow: sadness

zinnia: thoughts of absent friend

i was officially thinking of quirrell and his unfinished business being not being able to explain people what truly happened , and that he was innocent , but i thought , while writing the scene with him and dolores , why not add a little twist ?

so now not only his unfinished business is explaining his side of the story , it is also voldemort's death ( revenge ) , being useful and help the students ( guilt , from his DADA year . he had found dark arts interesting , and because of Voldemort he had failed to show the others his point of view on the subject ) and dolores umbridge ( he will not rest until that disgusting thing called a human being is gone from the halls of his home )

i also have a headcannon where the more feelings behind an unfinished business there is , and depending on the number of said unfinished business , the more in contact with he world said ghost is . like being able to touch objects , be completely aware of your surroundings , and going as far as acting like a human . and as you can see , quirinus has quite a few and loads of emotion behind it , especially when he focuses on them .

OKAY NOW IM DONE ILL STOP WRITING NOW OR ELSE IT'LL TURN INTO A WHOLE BOOK——

#woohoo #that is way longer than i expected to write #but i think #it's definitely worth it #now that im taking another look #if any of you noticed the small easter egg from when a small change happens to him #and make the connection to what he says #congrats !#here's a cookie 🍪#quirinus quirrell #sybill trelawney #severus Snape #filius flitwick #minerva mcgonagall #pomona sprout #harry potter #dumbledore's army #harry potter au #ghost!quirrell au

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 3 years

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Ok but I have been thinking about this “Astor takes Zelda when she’s young” AU all night like:

So Zelda’s mom dies and Astor gets his astrolabe from Asivus after he fucks with the guardians and [REDACTED] and Astor has his little Calamity agenda all within a shorter amount of time than the span of time in HKU. This is so that Zelda doesn’t have too much knowledge about her role as Hylia’s vessel yet so that when Astor takes her she’s like “dope” and doesn’t really know exactly how important she is. I mean as soon as your mom dies and your dad turns into a dick, the first magic dadstor to come into your radius going like “let’s go vibe somewhere else” I think anyone would accept that.

So the princess is whisked away and the kingdom goes into pure shit and chaos, and Rhoam is left no choice as to basic double, no, triple down on Sheikah tech and the divine beasts, all while sending out searches for the princess—which never come into fruition.

Meanwhile, Zelda grows up with the Yiga Clan as an assassin shes got a sickle and short hair because yeah!! Zavis is still a spy but instead of joining the Yiga Clan to be more useful to Zelda, he joined the Yiga Clan to find her and when he did, since his dad and Zelda are all basically on the same side he doesn’t have really any loyalty to the crown anymore

Now just in case, Astor pretty much lies to Zelda about her past as she grew up, just so that there isn’t a chance she gets dragged back into castle life or anything. “Oh yeah, you were just some little noble girl who’s dad was a dick, and I was friends with your mom before she died so I decided to take you in” and it lines you just enough with what few memories Zelda has of her childhood that she believes it. And ironically, with her loyalty to Astor and the Yiga Clan, she grows to despise royals and laughs at the stories of the missing princess like “ha, what a nerd. Hyrule really is doomed since she dipped from her destiny, what a loser.”

Does Siv team up with Astor earlier since he doesn’t have Zelda to give him hope that he can overcome the Calamity? Maybe. Idk.

So anyways, Zeldas going out doing Yiga things and she meets a knight with a pretty cool looking sword, and she’s like “Oooo imma steal that” and then she tries but she failed because this kid is REALLY skilled. He beats her, but doesn’t kill her when he realizes “You’re just a kid?” Then, they hear someone coming, like a captain or something, and he tosses her a few rupees like “get out of here and go home, the others won’t hesitate to kill a Yiga like you—girl or not”

Now Zelda goes home but she’s PISSED. Not only did she get her ass beat despite being the most badass Yiga she knows, the kid has the audacity to toss her RUPEES as if she was just some common poor thief. What an asshole! But also, she’s super ingrained by him because pretty much her whole life she’s believed the knights and those with the royals are a bunch of ruthless assholes who do nothing but blindly adhere to their commands and rules. So the fuck is with this kid??

She doesn’t tell anyone about this encounter (mostly because she doesn’t want to be yelled at, nor admitting the embarrassing detail of being beaten) but she does tell Zavis about it. And he’s like “pfft. He’s just a kid, btt it give him a few years and he’ll grow up like everyone other asshole out there, trust me”

Then later on, Zelda sneaks out looking for this kid again. And she does, and they kinda cross blades, but mostly she just complains to him about how annoying he is, and she tosses the rupees he gave him back like “I don’t need your pity money!” And they banter for a bit more and eventually she’s like “what’s your name, huh?” And the knight is like “....you don’t know who I am?”

“Oh let me guess, you’re one of the hundreds of people named Link, is that it?”

“Something like that.”

“Well Link, I’m Mallory, and I’m going to kill you now!”

Suddenly Link’s stomach grumbles and he sheathes his sword “Dinner break!”

“WHA—?? Keep fighting me you idiot!”

“Nah...I’m super hungry.”

“What?!?! What’s wrong with you??? I’ll kill you!”

“No you won’t.”

“I will!”

“You’re already breaking a sweat and I’ve been holding back this whole time. Plus, if you wanted to kill me why did you just give me back my rupees when I had my back turned instead of stabbing me? Either you like talking to me, or you suck at your job. Anyways, cucco nugget?”

So they’re kinda friends now.

So time passes and they’re still secret friends, and they like being friends because they “keep it real” as the kids say. Link never admits to her that he’s the hero, but vents about his knight life and his dad who never seems to be happy for him despite his accomplishments. And Zelda vents about her life in the Yiga Clan, and despite being the best, Astor never seems to want her involved in the more important missions and never tells her jackshit”

“Well I guess that’s good for me. Would hate to have the Yiga’s best asset being used.”

“Hey this is serious!! I need to help in the destruction of the royal family with the Calamity!”

“Do you really believe that? That we’re all already doomed?”

“Well yeah. I mean, even if the hero’s around, the princess is dead, so you all don’t stand a chance. But don’t worry, when the Calamity comes I’ll give you a heads up and you can go chill in Faron or something”

Then, things be picking up with Astor and the gang, and he’s finally found an opportunity to kill the hero. And Zelda remembers hearing from Link that he sometimes hangs out with the Champions and the hero for protection, and she’s like, “can I come?” because she wants to be useful, but also to make sure Link doesn’t die or anything. Yet per usual, Astor’s like “No. Just stay here.”

Now Zelda gets super pissed and him and they have a fight, mostly circulating around the fact that Zelda’s been nothing but loyal to the Yiga Clan and yet she nevers gets to actually feel useful and it also put on the sidelines whenever anything actually impactful happens. “Hell, even ZAVIS does more than I do! What’s your problem?! Can’t you have confidence in my for once??”

And Astor in Astor fashion ends the argument super harshly like, “You won’t be ready for anything, ever. You’re still incredibly naive and foolish, so if you want to help, then you can help everyone by staying here, and safe, and away from everyone. THAT is the only thing of use you can do, so do it.” And then they go off to kill the hero and Zelda runs off to her room al frusterated and shit.

But you know, you often meet your destiny on the road you take to avoid it. And this Astor’s little plan to keep Zelda away from Calamity related business so that she can never discover her powers or who she is...is gonna backfire, splendidly.

So Zelda sneaks out anyway, with the idea in her head that if she kills the hero before Astor even gets there he’ll have no CHOICE but to recognize how competent and useful she is and he’ll eat his words!

But then she gets there, and she sees the Champions, and Link, and she goes to confront Link with sickle in hand like, “I don’t need you! Just tell me where the hero is, and I’ll spare the rest of you!” And the Champions are like “wtf” and Link is like, “Just leave. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing! Just tell me where the hero is and no one else has to get hurt.”

And Daruk’s like. “Uhh...but he is the hero?” And everyone glares at Daruk, and Zelda goes into shock, like w h a t. Aw shit..so that fancy sword was the master sword...and he’s so good at fighting because he’s the bloody hERO FUCK, IT’S SO OBVIOUS NOW FUCK.

And I feel like as Zelda is contemplating her life choices in the moment. Revali would attack first because he’s like that. So he shoots her in the shoulder, or something, and she releases Link, and then something something her mask falls of and Urbosa recognizes her because of course she does. And Urbosa’s like “Zelda?!??!?” And Zelda’s like, “Who the fuck are you? Who’s Zelda? I’m Mallory.”

And by that point, Astor is there and he’s like “wtf is going on here.” And he sees Zelda, and he’s like “Mallory get over here right now.” And she hesitates for a moment because she’s right between him and Link.

“Move aside, now. Quickly. We’ll discuss your insolence when we get back home.”

And she’s like “...No.”

“Excuse me?”

“T-There’s no need for this. The princess is dead, right? S-So what’s even the point?”

“We have to ensure victory for Lord Ganon. We’re just making sure there’s no chance of anything happening. There’s no need to defend them, they’re all doomed, they’re all the same. If the hero doesn’t die by my hand, he’ll die by the Calamity’s. So move.”

“You don’t know that!”

And Astor raises and eyebrow because this is basically the first time Zelda has questioned this, ever. “What did you say?”

“I...I said you don’t know everything! You could be wrong!”

And he gives a sad smile and shakes his head. “I know more than you know.”

“I’ll tell you when we’re done here, promise.” And then he does his little malice teleport thing and he’s about to kill Link with a big ol’ malice attack, and Zelda does that reaching out thing like “No!”

And the BOOM. Her powers awaken, and EVERYONES like “oh shIT.” And Link’s the first one to be like, “You’re the princess???” And Astor’s like “hmmmmmmmm....fuck.” And Urbosa’s like, “Ok, I’m gonna stab Astor now.” and then she does! good for her.

And then Zelda is freaking out like what the fuck just happened who huh where what huh and then theres conflict because she doesn’t want Link to die but also his team just sorta stabbed her father figure and then its chaos or something and uhhhhhhhhh yeah that’s all I got I have no idea how this would end.

I feel Zelda wouldn’t go back to the Yiga Hideout after that, in fact I think she might run off with Siv because he’s like “hey, hey, hey. maybe gimme some of that light juice and get the calamity out of my head?” And of course Zavis would go whereever Zelda went (maybe?) She definitly wouldn’t go with the Champions yet, but they’re out looking for her. And also Astor would be looking for her with the Yiga Clan but mostly he’s like “fuck my life.” because literally everything he had been working towards and planning for over a decade has been ruined in like, an hour.

#hku au #hku spoilers

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yuurivoice · 3 years

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I know you're probably sick of getting these messages, but honestly being somewhat blunt is kinder than sugar coating things and acting like it's fine. Lack of aggression doesn't make someone a saint - idk, I had a friend who claimed to be nice cause they smiled a lot and would hug people (often w/o their consent) but would shut people's problems down (and their own) and just sugarcoat everything even when it wasn't their place. Idk I'm sick of creators acting similarly as well (sorry to project this on you but it's refreshing seeing someone without a sizeable platform not wait until things blow up to call people out)

I just think it’s part of what gets lost in translation when reading what people say on the interwebs. If it doesn’t have an “lol” or an emoji along with it, some people just genuinely can’t decipher tone, or immediately assume the tone is extremely harsh. I’m guilty of the same thing sometimes. Just how it goes.

But pissing all over yourself getting worked up because content creator MEAN, fuck it, even if I was mean...then write me off as an asshole and move on? There are a ton of gaping, leaky ass caverns on the internet who are insufferable pricks...y’know what I do?

I fuckin ignore them and remove them from my circle, my feed, my anywhere I go where I might see them or their content. I don’t anonymously submit them pretentious finger waggings about being kind. That’s infantile.

If someone is so daft to think that they can get a read on how kind I am based on responses to Anons on Tumblr, then I don’t want them to like me. I don’t want them anywhere near me. Because that’s utterly foolish, and I have little patience for fools.

This is the other side of the coin for those who put content creators on pedestals, then find out that they’re humans who are fucked up and messy and not the perfect uwu idol they dreamed they’d be. Don’t assume someone’s an angel, don’t assume someone is an asshole based all off of such limited information, and you won’t be too bothered either way. At least, that’s how I look at it. I don’t have the emotional capacity to give so much of a fuck about shit that doesn’t actually matter.

...he says as he goes on a rant about said thing that doesn’t matter...lol

#Anonymous

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geniusgub · 3 years

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north//chapter fifteen

genre: angst

warnings: prison, mentions of solitary confinement, mentions of physical abuse, spoilers for The Good Doctor, spoilers for Lucifer, alcohol, drugging

word count: 7.1k

summary: spencer gets used to life in prison in the worst ways. amelia goes through a rollercoaster of emotions and tries to cope with spencer being out of reach. she tries to stay positive and convince others that she is okay.

i’d like to say once again that having a good understanding of the prison arc is helpful in reading this fic. i don’t explain every single detail (because it’s unnecessary to) and if you’re not familiar w the storyline, it’ll be harder to comprehend.

school is over so i’ll have more time to edit and post!!!! yay!! enjoy the chapter :)

SPENCER

"Is that clear?"

"Yes, yes, it's clear!"

My heart pounds against my chest and that's all I can feel. Absolute fear and absolute helplessness. I can't do anything here. I've accepted that but maybe I've just been lying to myself. How can I ever accept that I can't do anything to protect myself or protect others? I’ve spent my life protecting. I need to protect. I need to.

The fear and the panic are overwhelming and I'm thrashing around. I can't do anything to stop it. I wish it would stop. The panic is overwhelming. It's consuming. It's eating me alive. It’s too uch. It’s way too much. I need to go and protect. I need to protect.

"Help! Help!"

I jerk awake, drenched in sweat and my hair matted to my forehead. The images of my dead friend are still flashing in my head and as badly as I want to forget, I know I never will. My back and bottom ache from the metal cot I’m on, my limbs stiff in the smaller-than-twin, poor excuse of a mattress.

I twist my body and reach under my pillow, pulling out the journal that my counselor had given me and the pencil, scribbling down my stream of consciousness as quickly as I possibly can. It's barely readable in my chicken scratch writing but who cares enough to read what I have to say anyway? No one. Nobody cares here. Nobody cares about me. I’m nothing.

Getting more and more intense. Got to fall deeper in to beat them. I've lost friends before, but not like this. Not in a box where I have no control. Or do I? Starting to think like them, starting to survive like them. I'm here because I made a choice. What if that means I don't get out alive?

My blood runs cold as I dot the question mark with my trembling hand. I swipe my hand across my dripping forehead and grimace at how wet my hand comes back. I throw my journal onto the floor and lay back down, forcing my eyelids closed.

How could I expect myself to sleep? I'm foolish to think I will. But I keep up the illusion for a while and keep my eyes closed, hoping that sleep will draw me in, but it never does. I just keep replaying the events that plague me every night, and eventually, my eyelids snap open again. The gory images were too much. Then the beautiful, blonde-haired, blue-eyed images became too painful. I scrunch up my eyebrows when I feel a headache forming between them.

My eyes immediately land on the journal, and red hot flames replace my brown orbs. That journal is horrible. It's filled with depressing content and it's falling apart and it's a disgusting brown color. It doesn't have my name in beautiful calligraphy on the front, and perfect drawings of beakers and coffee cups and strawberries and books and records players and decks of cards, and my confessions of love for my girlfriend inside. It doesn't have any of that beauty on the inside. No, this journal contains my deteriorating mind and my disappearing conscience.

Barely having control of my tired muscles, I roll off the bed and land on my hands and knees, holding in my grunts of agony. The cell block is almost silent, aside from the fans blowing around stale, warm air, and I don't intend to piss off anyone by disrupting their sleep. I keep my mouth shut after the initial impact sound.

I make the bed. I fold the corner of the sheets, so they are absolutely perfect. I fold the blanket and tuck it under the mattress. I smooth my hands over the top of the bed to make it perfect. It has to be perfect. If the bed isn’t perfect, it will get torn apart by the officers. They will rip up my bed and take away my blanket and pillow and humiliate me in front of the whole cell block. I don’t need that to happen again. I experienced that on my first week here and I vowed to never let it happen again. I make the bed and then I make it again, then fix it, then arrange it perfectly one more time. Finally. Perfection. It has to be perfect.

I push my journal against the wall and lay on my back, setting my feet flat against the floor and tucking my hands behind my head. I keep count in my mind as I lift my chin to my knees, ignoring the burn in my abs and the sharp pain in my spine from the concrete I'm rolling my bones against.

Once I've reached my goal number, twenty higher than yesterday’s number, I roll over onto my hands and lift myself up, and start my press ups. I begin a new, higher count in my head as I continuously bring my nose to the concrete, and with each time my biceps flex, the anger flares up. I clench my jaw and my stomach bubbles and my head gets light.

Fuck prison. Fuck it. Fuck the fact that I have to be here. Fuck Frazier and fuck his gang and fuck his shank and fuck the fact that he killed Luis. Fuck this whole situation. This is madness.

I'm becoming them. I am them. I either become them or I die, and I refuse to die in here. I refuse to die without curing Alzheimer's and getting married and having children and spending my life hunting the very people I'm locked in here with. I refuse to die knowing that there's a whole life I could live if I keep fighting. I refuse to break law after law in here like my life doesn't matter in the free world. I refuse to lose the person that I was, even if he's slipping further and further away by the second. Even if every time I try to recall the person I was, the images of my own face get more and more blurry. They’re hard to make out.

And maybe he's already gone and I've already sucked in the traits of the felons around me. Maybe I just refuse to accept who I am now. That's more likely than the lies I feed myself.

I work my muscles until the sun peeks in through the tiny window across from my cell. I'm drenched in sweat, even more than before, and my muscles are aching, but it's easy to forget. And if I can't forget, then it's easy to revel and bask in the intense pain.

The correctional officers bring us to the chow hall and we all collect our disgusting food and eat as quickly as possible. We usually only have three minutes for meals. Three minutes. That's it. It was horrible at first. I had to sit at a table, alone, with my shoulders hunched, shoveling food into my mouth. If you don’t eat at chow, you don’t eat at all. I always used to go back to my cell and curl up in my bed, thinking I was going to throw up. The combination of moldy, rotten food and a three-minute time crunch to eat has horrifying results. But now, three minutes is child's play. Three minutes is eating leisurely. I could eat my entire meal in exactly two minutes and twenty-seven seconds. Three minutes, now, is generous.

After breakfast is visitation and, to no one’s surprise, my name is called. I wonder who's on Garcia's list for today. They haven't managed to stick to a set schedule yet, due to cases and traveling, so I have no way of predicting who I'll see. I’m always left to wander into the visitation room and come up with lies on the spot.

I stick my hands out and allow Wilkins to slap cuffs on me, but I never meet his eyes. I wouldn't dare to. No amount of crunches or push-ups will ever prepare me to take him. I keep my eyes down and, shamefully, let him push me towards the visitation room.

I scan the little tables for a familiar face and smile the tiniest bit when I see Rossi sitting and waiting for me. He hasn't come to visit me yet, and out of the two people I don't want to visit me at all-- my girlfriend and my mom-- I've been waiting to see him. I resist the urge to push the person in front of me to get as much time with Rossi as possible. I wouldn’t dare risk pushing someone. I don't need a fight to send me to solitary confinement. Huh. Actually, solitary confinement doesn't seem too bad right now. I could get away from all these other inmates who want to hurt me. I could relax in solitary.

I sit down and just give Rossi an expecting look, utterly speechless. I've had so many questions to ask him. I've needed so much advice, but now I have nothing to say. My voice is stuck in my throat. His facial hair is longer. The bags under his eyes are a shade darker. Luckily, he speaks first. "You haven't slept." Okay, not what I wanted or needed him to say.

I just shrug nonchalantly. "It's been a while." What else can I say?

Rossi just nods. What else can he do? "I heard about your friend, Delgado. I'm really sorry, Spence," Again, not what I wanted or needed him to say. I don't want to hear or talk about Luis anymore. I'm tired of dwelling on that. I feel guilty enough. I don't need to see his slit throat every time I close my eyes and then open my eyes and talk about him. I don't need that. When I'm unresponsive to this, Rossi continues. "Is there anyone you can talk to?"

I roll my eyes to the back of my head. If my mother were here, she would warn me that if I do that long enough, my eyes would get stuck there. "We have group therapy once a week. The counselor wants me to keep a journal. So I am, but I don't really think it's helping."

Rossi's furrows his eyebrows. "How come?"

A scoff escapes my lips before I can stop it. "Because no one in here is honest. I mean, not a single person can admit that they're terrified," my cuffs rattle as I move my hands as if to hone in what I'm saying. "If we can't agree on that one basic truth, then it doesn't really matter."

"They could just be numb to it all." That's what Rossi offers up. It could help. It would help if I was in the free world.

"Well," my voice softens and even though I know there are gang members around me and people who want to hurt me, I let my guard down, "I'm not. There's," I drop my head the tiniest bit, "there's a helplessness in here that causes people to do things they'd never consider."

Rossi sighs, and this was what I was scared of. I open up and he has nothing to say to me. He has no world-class wisdom to offer. I'm prepared to do what I did to Garcia and practically ignore him for the rest of the visit, but when he reaches into his jacket, my intrigue beats out my disappointment.

I recognize the calligraphy on the front of the envelope as soon as I see it. It's on the front of every single one of my journals that still lay in my desk drawer. It looks as beautiful as ever in black ink, outlined and accented in a yellow pen. There's a lump in my throat that I try to swallow.

"I had to flash my badge just to get it in here so you better read it. I'm not letting you refuse to read this like you refuse to see her," Rossi moves the letter closer to me, directly in my eyesight.

I swallow the thick lump and slowly raise my cuffed hands to grab the envelope. I carefully, without ripping my cursive name, make a slice in the top with my finger and pull out pieces of paper that I recognize to be paper ripped out of Amelia's journal.

"Did you read this?" I ask Rossi as I place the envelope down.

"It was still sealed, wasn't it?"

I nod and stay silent as I drop my head again. I could cry just at the sight of Amelia's handwriting. She touched this paper. This specific piece of paper. This piece of paper was in her hands, in her apartment, and now it’s in my hands. She sat and put pen to paper and wrote this out for me to read. And with one final breath, I finally bring myself to actually start reading it.

To my love dove,

Hi!! How are you? I'm only okay, but there's something I need to tell you can it can't wait any longer.

I started watching this tv show called The Good Doctor a few weeks ago and I've finished the entire series. Honestly, Spencer, it's so amazing. I think you would love it so much.

I know you don't watch that much tv, unless I'm around, so I'll tell you what it's about. The show is about this resident surgeon named Shaun Murphy who is fighting to get a job at a hospital, but the administration of the hospital won't give him a job because he has autism. But then he saves a child's life in an airport or something (I can't remember exactly, it’s been a while) and does a procedure that is really innovative and outside the box and it floors everyone and the hospital hires him.

The show follows him navigating adult life and relationships and his job and him learning how to be less dependent on older people telling him what to do. He gets a girlfriend and loses his virginity and then starts talking about sex at work which is fucking hilarious but also stupidly inappropriate, and he has a friend who's a girl who his girlfriend has a problem with.

And then (I'm sorry, baby, but spoilers are coming!!) they kill off one of the main characters at the end of the third season! How dumb! Melendez was one of my favorite characters and he was just about to admit to Claire that he's in love with her and then they killed him off for such a stupid reason. The season ends on a cliffhanger! You know how much I hate cliffhangers. And that plot of Claire and Melendez falling in love was teased at for so long and they gave it to us just to take it right away!!!! Cruel!! Do I have grounds to sue for emotional distress? I think there is. I should get on this.

Okay. I've calmed down now.

Fine. You caught me. I haven't. I'll never calm down from my heartbreak over Dr. Melendez. But I can move on for now.

I think you would really like this show and I'd be willing to watch it again with you. I think you'd enjoy it. They talk a lot about medical terms and medical procedures and there’s diagrams and everything. And whether they're accurate and precise or not, I'm sure you'd enjoy picking out mistakes in the procedures or telling me why the procedures are revolutionary. And no matter which option it is, I'm ready to listen and learn.

Before I watched The Good Doctor, I finished watching Lucifer, but I know that you hated that show. But he went back to Hell!!!!!!!!!!! He really did That!!!!! He left Chloe and went to Hell!!!!!! So fucking rude. I screamed out loud when he said he was leaving. Thankfully, there's going to be a season five and maybe I'll make you watch that with me so we can see what happens with Lucifer and Chloe. I debated on watching Star Trek or Doctor Who because you're always talking about how much you love those shows, but I know I won't understand it. I'll need you to explain it to me. I think I'll just wait to watch those with you. Sounds like a good date night to me.

I love you more than words can even express. I miss you more than I will ever be able to say (or in this case, write). I know you're not doing well and I know you don't want to see me but I hope that hearing from me helps you in some way. I don't know how it would but I hope it does.

I love you. I promise, I'll see you so soon.

With all the love in my tiny body,

from your pretty girl,

Amelia <3

ps. idk if you're shaving your face in there but... I'm curious to see what you look like with a mustache and beard... that's a sight I never thought you'd let me see. Hmm. I shouldn't let my mind wander. Sorry. I love you. Kisses.

I read over her letter once, twice, three times. Every time I read it, I notice something new. Every time I read the letter, I notice a teardrop beside a word, of a subtle smudge of a pen, or another hesitation in her pen stroke.

I read it again. And then I read it again. But then I read it one more time. And just when I think I've had enough, I read it another time. I’m on the tenth read before the wheels actually start turning in my head, slower than usual. This letter has distraction written all over it in Amelia’s pretty writing. I don't like medical dramas and I hated Lucifer. She knows that. She acknowledged that in her letter. But this is the kind of thing she would tell me as we're eating dinner when I get home from a case, or as we're laying in bed, or when we're showering, or when we're sitting on the balcony of one of our apartments. This serves that purpose, except this time, it's in letter form. She's distracting me. God, I would give anything to break out of here and drag her to a courthouse and marry her right now.

"Reid?"

My head snaps up when Rossi speaks, and when I force our eyes to meet, he's holding out a pen. I know for a fact that pens aren't allowed. Pens could be considered a weapon in the hands of the wrong inmate. He snuck this in, and I'm not sure how, but I don't want to know how.

I snatch the pen out of his hand and rip the sides of the envelope so there's more room to write, scribbling down my thoughts as fast as possible. I don't want to get caught. If I do, I can't imagine the trouble I'll get in, especially if Wilkins catches me. When I'm pleased with what I've written, I fold up the envelope and hand that and the pen back to Rossi. But I keep the letter, tucking it into the waistband of my pants so it's completely out of sight.

Rossi smiles, putting the envelope back in his jacket pocket and flattening the lapels. "Is there anything you want me to tell her?"

"Tell her--" I'm cut off by a sharp alarm going off, a guard screaming about a lockdown, and for all the inmates to return to their cells. I sigh, rising to my feet. "It's all there. Just give that to her."

///

AMELIA

///

"Hi, Jeannie," My voice is only a mumble as I greet the receptionist. She gives me a pitiful smile, another new tradition that has only formed in the last few weeks, handing over a visitor's pass and watching as I clip it to the pocket of my jacket.

I drag myself to the elevator and hit the up button, drag myself inside, and when it opens on the sixth floor, I drag myself to Penelope's office. My mood is lower than it has been lately. I didn’t really think it could get any lower. But here I am with a heart heart, hunched shoulders, and the inability to smile. I'm not sure why I feel like this on this specific day, as opposed to any other shitty day, but maybe it's because I know that Penelope went to visit Spencer today. All I know is that I barely wanted to drag myself off of Jenna's couch this morning and get dressed and show up here. I could barely pay attention to the new episode of The Good Doctor that Jenna coaxed me into watching with her last night. I could barely get myself to come through the front doors of the building, but I show up to the BAU every single morning like I work here.

I plug in the code to Penelope's door and push it open, and I’m welcomed to a sight that I didn't think I'd see for a while. Luke is kneeling in front of Penelope, and at first, I think that he's finally confessing his feelings for her. My first intention is to silently back away and let them have their moment. His hands are on her knees and she isn’t insulting him, so nothing about this interaction could be bad, right? But then I notice that she's crying, and my heart drops. I don’t back away.

My hand slips off the doorknob and it slams shut, making me flinch on impact. The two stare up at me like deer caught in headlights. I see this expression way too much for my liking nowadays. And judging by the sheer fact that there are still tears dripping down Penelope's cheeks, this isn't good. Nothing is ever good anymore.

"What happened?" I don't step closer, I don't grab Penelope's hand, I don't touch Luke's shoulder. My heart is pounding against my chest and my hands are starting to shake.

Luke glances at Penelope before rising to his feet. "Garcia went to see Reid today."

"I know," I snap faster than I intended to. "What happened to him? Is he okay? What--" my voice betrays me and I can't choke out another question.

Luke sucks in a breath, keeping a stony, emotionless face. "He got beat up."

"Beat up?" I regurgitate the disgusting words that have just been spewed at me, backing myself against the wall. "He got--"

Penelope stands up and moves towards me, lacking her normal finesse. "His face had bruises and he seemed agitated but he seemed fine otherwise--"

"He's not fine if he got beat up," My anger, somehow, quickly dissipates and turns to heartache. My heart pounds against my chest at an alarming rate. My eyes flood with tears and my knees start to give out from under me, and I go sliding to the ground, curling into myself. "He's trapped inside with the people who beat him up and there's nothing he can do."

"Listen," Luke kneels in front of me and places a hand on my shoulder, but I can't bring myself to shake it off or even look up at him, "I'm gonna get an extra set of eyes on Reid. He's mentioned something about another inmate that sounds like an ex-FBI agent, and I think I know how I can get him to protect Reid. Amelia, he's gonna be okay. I'm gonna go to the prison right now and figure this all out. You call me if you need anything at all."

Luke stands again and smiles at Penelope, quickly leaving the room. And once he's gone, Penelope takes his place on the floor beside me, sitting with her legs straight out. She's silent, but I'm not sure why. Is she giving me space? Is she waiting for me to speak? Is she figuring out what to say? Is she too scared to say anything? I wouldn't blame her if she was. I'm not the person I was anymore.

I reach into my pocket and pull out Spencer's medallion, passing it between my fingers. "I'm sorry," I whisper, keeping my gaze on the metal circle. "I haven't exactly been a best friend lately, or a friend at all. I've just been a bitch."

"No, you don't need to apologize," Penelope insists, scooting closer to me. "This is a really hard time for you. It's understandable. I don't expect you to want to be listening to my guy problems or wanting to drink wine. I mean, I don't even want to be doing either of those things. It seems too...cheerful for right now."

My lips quiver and I try to hold back my tears, but no matter how hard I squeeze the medallion, my tears won’t retreat and my pain doesn’t disappear. "I just really miss him, and I'm really worried about him."

"We all are," Penelope sighs, patting my leg. "But we're working as hard as we can to get him out."

"I know you are," I flip the medallion over and stare down at the compass. "I just hope he comes home soon because I don't know how much longer I'll last without him."

///

The snapping of my pencil against paper shakes me back to reality, and my head pops up. I find that I've been jamming my pencil into my sketchbook, creating a hole in the paper that has effectively ruined my drawing and maybe even ruined my entire sketchbook.

A groan leaves my lips and I drop my sketchbook to the floor, my pencil following. I shouldn't be upset. Whatever it was I was drawing was horrible anyway. I haven't drawn anything good since Spencer got arrested. My art revolves around joy and happiness and the good things in my life and if I don't have any of that, how am I expected to make art?

"Hey," Jenna comes and sits beside me, placing a cup of tea on the coffee table. I don't touch it. She never makes it as good as Spencer. She picks up the sketchbook and lets out a sigh. "It's a shame there's a hole in it now. I liked what you were drawing."

"It was bad," I respond, letting my head fall onto her shoulder. "Nothing in there was any good."

"I disagree," Jenna drops the book and slings her arm around my shoulder, drawing me into her embrace. She’s not nearly as warm as Spencer. "Sometimes, our best work comes from dark places. You know, like comedians. A lot of comedians have depression and--"

"Jen, I appreciate it but I'm not in the mood for this," I murmur, eyelids feeling heavy. I rest my head on her lap and stare up at her, resisting the urge to purr as she starts to brush her fingers through my hair, but it's nothing like the way Spencer does it. Spencer, somehow, doesn't let his fingers get caught in my curls and he doesn't tug on knots. His hands are big and veiny and strong and not dainty and tiny like Jenna's.

"I'm sorry," Jenna apologizes with a heavy sigh.

"No, I'm sorry," I catch her hand in mine and intertwine our fingers, squeezing tightly. "I've been horrible lately. I've just-- what I'm going through with Spencer is no reason to be acting like a bad friend to you. You've been so generous and so helpful and so--"

"Hey, listen," Jenna cuts me off with her sweet smile, "when everything with Spencer is resolved and he's settled at home with his mom and with you, then you can take me out and throw me a Jenna appreciation party. But for right now, don't worry about me. Just worry about you and staying healthy and trying to stay happy, and focus your energy on your happy memories with Spencer."

"You're the best, have I ever told you that?"

"Hey!" Jenna exclaims. "Save it for the appreciation party."

I smile back up at my best friend, nodding slowly. "Okay, yeah, I can do that. Once I get my shit together, I'll throw you an amazing party."

"And I look forward to it," Jenna quips, and then looks at the time. "Okay, I've gotta get to a meeting but you're welcome to stay here if you want. My apartment is all yours."

"No, I think I'm gonna go home for a bit. Probably shower and then get to the BAU with fresh clothes. I feel all," I sit up, brushing my fingers over my cheeks and grimacing, "greasy and oily."

Jenna returns my ruined sketchbook and ushers me out the door, watching me get into my car to make sure I get there safely. I wave goodbye to her before driving off, not even bothering to turn on the radio. I never do anymore.

Trudging up to my door, I unlock it and toss my keys aside, throwing my bag down on the floor and kneeling down to take off my shoes. I pull out my hair tie and drop it to the floor, then leave a trail of clothes to the kitchen. First my denim jacket, then my socks, then my crop top. I'm left in my bra and sweatpants in the middle of the kitchen, reaching into the fridge for something to eat. It’s nearly empty. Of course it is. I haven’t had the energy to go shopping lately.

I reach my hand out but I pause and scrunch up my nose at a strong scent. Why does it smell like bubblegum in here? Again. I don’t even like the scent or taste of bubblegum, and I obviously didn’t buy any gum recently. I roll my eyes, wandering over to the window to open it further and let out the smell. I breathe in a bit of the fresh air and sigh, stepping away and going back to my original plan of getting something to eat. Maybe the older woman next door has a bubblegum candle that she likes to light whenever I’m home.

But the smell is persistent and it's filling my lungs and my brain and my tongue. I start to walk towards the window again but my feet don't let me. It's like there's someone telling me not to go and breath in the fresh air outside, and so, I don't. I stand in the middle of my kitchen like a floundering fish, gripping the island with white knuckles. My head feels fuzzy. My eyes feel like they should be rolling into my skull. It’s that familiar feeling of not having control over myself. That sickly familiar feeling of someone standing right behind me, whispering in my ear and telling me what to do.

But then I feel the urge to shut the window completely, so I do. I rush over and slam it closed with so much force that I think I might break the glass. But I'm confused. I'm so confused. The bubblegum smell is nauseating so why am I closing the window? What is telling me to close the window? Who is telling me to close the window?

I feel my feet walking over to the couch and I lay down. My eyelids feel heavy and I don't stop myself when I feel an intense need to lay down and close my eyes, to rest. I curl up and drift off comfortably, into the best sleep I've gotten since I had the privilege of sleeping in a bed with Spencer.

When I finally wake again, my head is pounding. I whine out loud, curling my knees into my chest and tossing my arm over my eyes, trying to block out the lights above me. But nothing works so I roll off the couch, falling onto my knees in a pathetic heap. I lift my head, finding an empty bottle of white wine on the coffee table. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. I didn’t drink wine today. The bottle is empty but I didn’t drink. I mean, I feel hungover but I know I didn’t drink. The smell of bubblegum is gone.

I reach around for my phone, but after groping the couch and the coffee table, I come up empty. I conclude that I've left it in my backpack which I dropped beside the door. I grind my teeth as my muscles pop when I stand and walk over to the foyer, rubbing my eyes and letting out a dramatically loud yawn. When I get to the foyer, I find that my backpack is nowhere in sight. That's odd. I could have sworn that I left it here when I got home from Jenna's apartment, but I guess in my blackout, I moved it.

I turn on my heel to head back to the kitchen, and the first thing I notice is that it's not morning anymore. It's dark out. My head whips towards the clock and I find that it's almost midnight. I must have gotten drunk. I must have finished that whole bottle myself and the alcohol made me forget. I drank the entire day away, somehow. That's not like me. That's never happened before. I drink wine all the time, I know I can hold my wine. How did one single bottle of wine do this to me?

Shaking my head at myself and pushing away my pathetic tears, I move on to my kitchen. Surely enough, the contents of my backpack are strewn across the island and my phone is right there. What I need it for? I'm not sure. But despite the fact that I've just woken up, I'm exhausted. So with my phone in my hand, half dressed, belly button ring falling out, hair tangled, head pounding, and my brain swirling, I drag myself up the stairs and collapse into bed.

The sheets smell like him. They always do. They always will. The pillow he claimed as his own will always be stained with the scent of his cologne, and no matter the amount of times I wash it, it was always smell like him. I roll over and hug his pillow to my chest, and this time, I don't stop the dam from breaking. I let the tears flow down my cheeks relentlessly and I let the sobs rack my body and I let myself succumb to the depression I've barely been fighting off.

But I don't let my mind succumb too much, not to the bad thoughts that are hounding me. I stumble off the bed and into my bedside table, pulling out my journal and holding it in my lap. My pen moves faster than my mind does and before I know it, I'm signing my name at the end. I don't even proofread it. I don't check for spelling or grammar errors or try to dry the tear stains or fix any pen smudges. I just rip out the pages, fold them up, put on some clothes, and jump in my car.

The doors the the sixth floor open as I fiddle with my visitors pass on my hip. I see Stephen first and he smiles at me, stepping out of the way and gesturing me for me to go past. I thank him softly and go tiptoeing by, pulling open the bullpen door and stepping in. JJ and Tara are talking with Anderson and Kevin by the coffee machine and I send them a wave, but I don't go over to talk. I haven't been in the mood for small talk lately. And besides, it’s midnight. Everyone is here incredibly late to work and small talk would distract them from their obvious mountain of work. They don’t need the extra worry of me showing up hungover and confused. I keep my head down to avoid everyone.

I pass Emily and get to Dave's door, knocking much softer than I have in the past. He calls for me to enter, and when I do, I give him one of the fake smiles I've become so accustomed to lately. "Hi," I state gently.

"Hi," he gestures for me to sit, and when I do, he closes to door. "Are you okay?"

"I am," I nod quickly, probably way too quickly, and bring my backpack into my lap, digging through the contents. "I saw that--"

"Are you drunk?" He interrupts me, narrowing his eyes at me as he takes a seat again.

I fiend surprise, shaking my head. "No! Of course not! Why would you--"

"Your eyes are bloodshot and you're not speaking properly, you're slurring your words," Dave points out bluntly.

I don't move my gaze from his as my hands finally land on what I was searching for, and I pull it out, holding it to him. "I saw on Garcia's board that you're the next to visit Spencer. Could you bring that to him? It's just a letter."

Dave takes the envelope from my hand and admires the calligraphy on the front, the same I always use to label Spencer's sketchbooks. He nods and tucks it into his jacket pocket. "I'll bring it. The prison checks everything and--"

"If they confiscate it, I don't wanna know," I tell him, standing and putting my backpack on again, heading towards his office door. "Just-- everything I have to say is in that letter. I've gotten it out and even if he doesn't get to read it," I shrug my shoulders up to my ears and laugh pitifully, "whatever. I just hope he's safe now."

I go home. I leave with my head down and tears in my eyes. Dave is going to think I’m a crazy drunk who can’t control herself. The reality is, I don’t even know what happened today. I’m just confused and sad. I’m missing Spencer, I hate the smell of bubblegum, and I can’t do my job anymore. Everything is fucking horrible. Everything has gone to shit.

Like clockwork, I bring myself to the BAU the next morning. Freshly showered and in presentable clothes, looking better than I have in months. An obvious overcompensation for what Dave said to me yesterday. I need to show him somehow that I’m okay. Well, I’m not okay but I don’t need anyone worrying about me. I should have practiced my fake smile in the elevator.

"Hey, you," Penelope smiles softly as I walk into her lair, dropping my backpack on the empty desk. "Feeling okay?"

"Meh," I shrug, sitting down in a free chair and drawing my knees to my chest. "I'm trying to keep my spirits up. It's hard, you know? It keeps getting longer and longer since I've seen him and the longer it gets, the harder it gets. I’m trying to keep it together. It’s hard, P."

"I think I may be able to help with that," Dave's voice at the door makes the both of us jump. Neither of us had even realized he had come in right behind me. But I jump to my feet and smooth down my skirt, adjusting my nose ring so it’s perfect and brushing my straightened hair behind my ears.

"Help with that?" Penelope repeats, glancing between us. "Help with that how?"

Dave reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the envelope for the letter I'd written for Spencer, and my heart drops to my feet. Why was I thinking? What made me think he would be able to bring my letter in? He's in a maximum-security prison. Spencer can barely take a shower without prison guard eyes on him. He's not going to be able to get a letter from a visitor without it being checked and rejected first.

"I told you I didn't wanna know if he could see it," I whisper, looking down at my lap and hating the way my eyes instantly burn with tears. I’ve cried too much lately. "You should've just thrown it out. I don't want it back, just--"

He drops the envelope onto my lap to shut me up, but now, it's unfolded and there's writing on the inside. My body jerks ungracefully when I recognize Spencer's handwriting and I snatch it up to read what he's written for me.

To my pretty girl,

The Good Doctor sounds like a great show, and even though you've basically spoiled the whole show for me, I'd love to rewatch it with you. Medical dramas tend to be incorrect with their facts so I'd like to see how much of the show is accurate. And no, I will not watch Lucifer with you. But I will absolutely watch Star Trek and Doctor Who with you. It would be my pleasure to explain them to you.

I think of you every single day. You are the reason I'm pushing through and you are the reason I'm still alive. You are the reason I get out of bed and you are the reason I'm sane at all. You're still my north. Don't forget that. I’m going to come home to you.

Like you said, words cannot describe how intensely and how badly I miss you. Things are hard right now but I promise that I'll see you soon and I promise that everything will be okay.

Listen to some Brahms or Mozart for me. I love you so much.

With all the love I have left to give,

Your Dove

ps. There are no razors here and I haven't shaved in months. Enjoy.

pps. Thank you for distracting me. It worked wonders. You're truly amazing.

I read his letter over and over and over. I examine every single word on the page and I barely even notice when my tears start to fall on the paper. His writing is messy, it always has been, but it's so beautiful. Maybe I think it's so extraordinarily beautiful because I know he touched this piece of paper and now I'm touching it. It's from his heart. It's from him. It's from my Spencer.

"Penny," I whimper out, and she is at my side in a second, placing her hand on my shoulder. "He—” I sniffle and hiccup, “he promised."

"He promised?" She echoes, her voice sounding hopeful but like she's talking to a child. "What did he promise?"

"He promised that everything is gonna be okay," I clutch the paper in my hand, admiring its beauty and counting the strokes that Spencer made with the pen. "And he told me again that I'm his north and-- that's good, right? He's still there, you know, mentally."

Penelope nods at me, reaching down to wipe my tears. "Yeah, Amelia, that's really good that he said those things."

I drop the letter to the floor and throw my arms around Dave, crying into his shoulder. "Thank you so much. Thank you for doing this for me."

He hugs me back tightly. "Anything to see you and the kid happy. Anything for you two."

TAGLIST

@babybloodstonebones @bxnnywriting @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @stxrrywildflower @penemily @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere @shrimpyblog @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter @whxt-to-write @inkandexchange @just-call-me-non��

#nikos north fic #spencer reid #dr reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #matthew gubler #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction

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angrymongol01-archived · 3 years

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A/N: Am reposting two of my shelved discontinued fem!Hinata fics from my old blog here (for exposure ig? Also I didn't delete them completely there, they're just posted privately lol); for those who've read the original post before and wondering why this blog repost another blog's work, supplies~!! OP here, filling this blog with some Haikyuu content from last October. Enjoy ^^;; ALSO DO NOT SEND HATE ORZ smh

My Masterlist

Prologue | 01 | Omake 01

tho it doesn't looked like an extra chapter at all smh ahaha

Omake 01

wc: 1.9k words

warning: mentions of thigh touching (and probs kidnapping but not implied), a bit of OOC-ness, a few ‘damn’ mentions.

note: indented paragraphs -> flashbacks

*NOTE: since purple/violet is unavailable via PC (using desktop beta lol), I'll use yellow for Ushijima instead.

“…ta…nata…Hinata!”

A female’s voice continued calling her from her deep slumber.

The faint smell of ammonia wafted in the air.

Eyelids slowly opened as she regained consciousness.

“Ah, thank goodness you’re awake now, Hina-chan!”

“Yachi-san?” She groggily glanced at her friend.

“I’ll tell the others she’s awake!” Suddenly, the owner of that voice earlier, Date Tech’s manager, Nametsu Mai, stood up and headed outside the door. Yachi nodded her thanks.

“W-what happened… Where am I? Is this not our—the managers’—room?” she asked.

Hinata started to sit up from where she was laying but wobbled.

Luckily, Yachi and their second-year senpai Kinoshita Hisashi helped her out and gently positioned their fellow member on one corner of the classroom-slash-makeshift sleeping area.

Her senpai sheepishly replied to Hinata, “This is Date Tech’s sleeping quarters. We were having our first practice match of the day, against them, when Sugawara-san called to inform that they’ve found you together with Shiratorizawa, and their captain carried you on—“

The decoy shivered, thinking about the restroom incident hours ago.

“—and fainted on Ushijima’s shoulder. Ma~n, Suga-san’s so furious back then Kageyama had to stop him from killing them.” Kinoshita chuckled.

“Your room’s kinda far away from where they found you, so the managers decided to drop you off here since it’s the nearest one.”

Hinata sweatdropped, a bit embarrassed.

“Ah… thank you, and sorry for whatever inconvenience I have caused earlier…”

Yachi shook her head. “No, no, it’s fine! You’ve done nothing wrong, Hina-chan~,” she grinned at the orange-haired girl.

Smiled back also.

Then she suddenly facepalmed. “I forgot about the practice match! Is it still going yet?”

“It finished an hour ago, we lost—2-1,” a scowling Kageyama answered, trudging towards the three.

“K-k-kageyama…!!!” the female middle blocker blanched with fear, hands gripping the blanket draped on her lap, while the raven-haired setter shot a menacing glare at her, which she averted. “I’m… I’m sorry for—“

“Are you alright?” he quietly asked Hinata, his hand perched on her head.

His deep blue eyes swimming with concern and worry.

She felt a slight flush on her cheeks while meeting his gaze.

“H-hai, I’m fine!” the chibi assured Kageyama. “Nothing to worry about, Bakayama-kun~!”

And she smiled at him.

The boy suddenly became hot and turned to look away from her, hiding his flustered face with the back of his hand.

“H-hinata boke… idiot,” Kageyama stuttered, his heart thumping louder than normal.

Ahh… he sure is whipped for Hinata, that Kageyama boy, Kinoshita thought, shaking his head.

While their blonde manager only giggled.

Recovering from his blushing mess a while ago, the raven-haired setter took a deep breath, narrowed his eyes at Hinata and quipped.

“But I guess you do know that we lost in the match earlier because of your carelessness around your surroundings, right, dumbass?”

He smirked.

This pissed the female decoy and threw in some punches at Kageyama, which he constantly dodged. “Shut up, you!! I said I’m sorry, alright?!”

“No, you did not!”

“Yes, I did, Bakayama!”

There goes their ‘lovers’ quarrel’ again… hahaha…

“Hinata!” Sugawara’s sweet voice boomed inside the room as he entered together with their team’s captain Sawamura Daichi. Beside them tagged along Hinata’s friend from Date Tech, fellow middle blocker Aone Takanobu.

“Ah, Sugawara-san!” The first-year idiot duo stopped their bickering when the gray-haired setter all of a sudden hugged her.

Hc’d Suga and Hinata are chummy-chummy but in a mother/daughter sort of way.

He is, after all, Karasuno’s Sugamama.

“Honey, are you alright now? Did those Shiratorizawa bastards hurt you? Don’t lie to me!” She blinked in reply, baffled.

He might cry in an instant now—

“Oi, Suga, calm down,” Daichi said, drawing circles at the fellow third-year’s back to calm him down.

Aone then stepped closer besides Hinata and sat with his legs crossed, his eyes gazing at hers like Kageyama’s.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, his deep voice nearly startled both Hinata, Yachi and Kinoshita.

Date Tech’s one-third of the famous Iron Wall is a man of few words, and his replies were mostly grunts, hand gestures, and nods.

So it’s rare for him to speak, or ask a question, especially to a member of the opposite sex—or, in this case, at Karasuno’s Number 10. At Hinata Shouyou.

She held both hands at Aone’s now flustered cheeks, and grinned.

“I’m okay now, Aone-san! Don’t worry too much~ nn?” She tilted her head while looking at him.

C-cute… she’s cute, No-Eyebrows thought to himself. Even the other boys thought so, too.

Then he nodded.

Hinata patted his shoulders. “Good!”

Ahhh the power of friendship, feat. AoHina—

“Say, Hina-chan,” Yachi looked at the orange-haired girl. “Care to say to us why you fainted on Ushijima-san’s shoulder?”

The chibi stilled herself, cheeks starting to get a bit red. Kageyama noticed it.

“A-a-ano!! H-hinata-chan, it’s o-okay if you d-don’t have to tell us! S-sorry for asking such a foolish q-question—“

“Yachi-san, calm yourself down, too—,” the captain sweatdropped.

Looking at the people around her, Hinata slowly opened her mouth to speak.

“My thighs are kind of ticklish when being touched,” she muttered, face in an embarrassed state.

“Ha?” “Ticklish?”

“He—Ushijima-san touched the back of my thighs, but just to keep myself from falling down his shoulder!” the female middle blocker said aloud, pouting. “That’s why I… f-fainted earlier.”

Her partner remembered the face she made while being carried on Ushijima Wakatoshi’s shoulder.

“USHIJIMA-SA—hyaah! …P-please… stop—“

A vein pop ticked on the raven-haired setter’s face, his jawline twitching slightly.

Kageyama’s fists gripped hard, his face a big scowling mess.

Damn that Ushiwaka guy—

Another dark aura emitted on another corner as vein pops ticked on both Dadchi and Sugamama.

Wearing their scary faces.

Both Hinata, Yachi and Kinoshita panicked, while Aone furrowed his brows.

“Did you bring some shovels, Daichi?”

“They’re inside the bus compartment, Suga.”

“Good. We’re digging some graves for some perverted volleyball dorks to bury down later—wanna help us, Kageyama?”

———

Meanwhile, at Shiratorizawa’s side of the training camp, the members were at the sidelines, taking a break from practice when—

“ACHOO!!!” Tendou sniffled for the nth time already ever since coming back to the gym with Ushijima after the incident with Karasuno’s Number 10. “Uh, yizz…”

“Tendou-san, are you really alright?” their team’s first-year ace-in-the-making Goshiki Tsutomu asked, his face scrunched with worry. “You’re sneezing constantly.”

The redhead shook it off with a wave of his hand in reply, and smiled grimly.

“Yeah, I’m a-OK, thanks for your concern, Tsutomu-kun!”

“Oi, are you sick?” Shiratorizawa’s team mom third-year setter Semi Eita stared at his fellow third-year teammate with disgust. “If you are, please stay away from us! We don’t wanna get infected by your cold… Goshiki, don’t go near him!” “Eh? But, senpai—“

Tendou narrowed his eyes on him. “Semi-Semi, if I do have a cold, I will first go straight at ya and share my germs, duh!”

“DON’T CALL ME BY THAT STUPID NICKNAME, YOU IDIOT!” the team mom seethed, throwing a pack of tissues at the middle blocker in reply, hitting his arm.

A quarrel ensued at Shiratorizawa—

“Okay, guys, that’s enough! Save your bickering later at lunch period,” another third-year, Oohira Reon, chided and managed to stop both Tendou and Semi from tearing off their heads.

While the rest of the team just sighed and/or watched at a distance.

“Ano sa…”

Some of them turned their heads at the semi-deep voice of second-year starting setter Shirabu Kenjiro.

Idk how to describe voice ranges ‘cept high-pitch, deep blah blah sorry—

“Tendou-san, you mentioned earlier that you and Ushijima-san met Karasuno’s Number 10, right?”

“Aye~ we have!” the redhead then nudged Ushijima, who was sitting near him, on the side. “Right, Wakatoshi-kun?”

He nodded. “Un. We met Hinata Shouyou early this morning, outside the gym.”

“EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! You two met that cute sunshine already upon arrival!?!!” Both their libero, Yamagata Hayato, and middle blocker, Kawanishi Taichi, squawked at their captain.

Their faces looked like (‘◉⌓◉’), with Kawanishi gripping the collar of Shirabu’s shirt, shaking wildly.

“T-taichi, stop shaking me, goddammit—!” Whack!

Said second-year middle blocker started to wail in a dramatic way.

“WHYYYYYYYYYYY—!!”

Dunno how to grasp Kawanishi’s personality here tbh so stfu dejk—

“We were about to bring her here back though…” Then Ushijima’s usual stoic face darkened a bit.

“…if only those Karasuno setters didn’t show up.”

“Ah, that Kageyama guy and their vice-captain, isn’t it? Number 2?” Shirabu pointed out. “That guy’s really scary even though he has the face of an angel; their captain also.”

Oohira asked, “Wait… so you two attempted to kidnap the girl?”

“No, no, ‘kidnapping’ will only cause us trouble,” Tendou said, waving his hand in a disapproving way.

“Let’s call it ‘luring her with some sweets then put her inside a potato sack’—“

“ARE YOU A DOWNRIGHT LOLICON!?!!” Semi screamed straight at the Guess Monster’s face, pissed at his earlier statement.

Tendou vs Semi, Round 2–

“I-I heard from Date Tech’s Koganegawa-san that Hinata-chan fainted on you, Ushijima-san,” Goshiki stammered, red tinge on both his cheeks due to embarrassment, maybe? “Is that true?”

Ushiwaka nodded curtly. “Ye—“

“EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! SHE DID WHAAAAAAAAAAT!?!!” Both Yamagata and Kawanishi squawked again, interrupting his response.

Their faces now looked like (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾, with Kawanishi again gripping the collar of Shirabu’s shirt, shaking wildly.

“KAWANISHIIIIII!” An uppercut.

Chaos ensued inside the Shiratorizawa Academy (High School Division) Men’s Volleyball Club.

Their captain declared to himself, his olive-colored eyes shone with determination:

We will take Hinata Shouyou here, in Shiratorizawa. She should have (come here). Whatever the consequences be.

“WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU SLACKING OFF, YOU NIMRODS!!! GET YOUR ASSES BACK TO PRACTICE!!!!”

“HAI!!!!”

———

How did the supposed-to-be ‘rumor’ begin? It all started when…

“Aaaarrrggghhh!! This is not right, Ryuu!”

“Huh? What d’you mean ‘not right’, Noya?”

“I want to sit next to our cute kouhai Shouyou on the bus earlier, but it’s always that bastard Kageyama who gets to sit beside her!! Hnnnnnngh—!!! He gets to touch Shouyou’s hair whenever she dozes off, or place her head on his shoulder to sleep on! Or-or maybe even take a candid shot of her sleeping cutely—dammit!!! This is frustrating!!!!!”

“Ahhh~ I know how you feel, bro! I, too, want to sit next to our precious Hinata-chan on the bus! B-but… Noya, what about Kiyoko-san?”

“Ryuu bro, our loyalty is always on our beautiful goddess Kiyoko-san—BUT SHE’S DIFFERENT FROM SHOUYOU! Our kouhai is literally the epitome of a living sunshine~! She cures our blues away! Remember that time during our match with Wakunan, when you were kind of down about Daichi-san’s injury then Shouyou suddenly hugged and peppered you with words of encouragement?”

“Oh, yeah! It calmed my senses down… and also! Remember when you came back from your suspension, and me and Hinata noticed bruises—“

idk I really need to refresh my HQ knowledge by rereading the whole manga orz—

“—on your arms? Ma~n, she freaked out and began applying those with some ointment she had in her bag. And you told me later that time Hinata’s hands were very soft even though she spiked and blocked so many balls in her lifetime? Also that expression on your face! So priceless!”

“Ahhhh~ I wanna touch Shouyou’s soft hands again longer! Not just a high five—but holding hands!”

“Me too~ Damn, I wish there’d be some kind of (rotational?) seating arrangement whenever we’re on the bus, traveling to matches and stuff…”

“Ryuu! Noya! Heya!”

“Tora! Our shitty (city) boy from Tokyo—wassup!”

“We can’t wait to play another game against you guys later! ww”

“Same here!”

“Ah, what are you guys talking about?”

“OUR PRECIOUS KOUHAI HINATA/SHOUYOU!!!”

“Eh? Shrimpy-chan? What about her?”

“It’s like this….—“

The two crows and mohawked cat walked their way inside the camp premises, talking.

Unbeknownst to them, two eagles accidentally eavesdropped on the earlier conversation.

DO NOT REPOST/EDIT WITHOUT PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME, KIDS. LIKES ESPECIALLY REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED. ALL WORKS © angrymongol01 - 2021.

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ikeservant · 4 years

Note

Hello hope you are doing well!!! Can I ask for hc for Kenshin, Ieyasu, and Hideyoshi (or anyone else you want) discovering that MC is a hardcore otaku who thirsts over anime/otome boys😂😂? Maybe Sasuke gotta help explain to the warlords what even anime/otome is XD Thank you all the time I love your stuff!!!

Ahh thank you so much!I love this prompt lol! I’m dummy weak thinking about a bunch of 1500s warlords finding out in the future that people write headcanons/fanfics/fanart of them dream about fictional dudes. I’m people 😂. Also put what genre/type of anime they’d be into if they were able to be introduced to anime and manga.

Kenshin: Probably thought that Sasuke and MC were siblings because of her using similar weird words and fangirling during the weirdest times. Sasuke would explain to him how from their time that stories and tales were widespread and had vivid illustrations that people would gather around and develop a fanbase. Would be very confused to see keychains and anime merch from MC’s bag from the future. When he asked why there were decorations of 2D men, MC excitedly explained how they were all “best boys” and tell their stories and tales, meanwhile Kenshin was glaring daggers at these fictional men that pose a threat. “Kenshin your yandere side is showing. You are the bestest boy and you’re the only one I want to wifey up.” He’ll have to ask Sasuke what half of that sentence meant, but he was pleased that he was the 3D man that she chose. If MC could bring back some manga/anime for Kenshin, he’d be in love with any war/gore and action based ones. Not necessarily for characters but how cool the action and fight scenes are and wants to try them out with Sasuke (run Sasuke).

Ieyasu: Was very confused when they first met and MC was very eager and pushy to get to know him better. “Why are you following me, you weakling?” “I know you’re a tsundere. You’re hard on the outside but gooey on the inside. I’ve played so many routes with tsunderes that I shall uncover you in no time. Just like the simulations!” *cue Ieyasu thinking MC is absolutely insane and going the complete opposite direction*. Eventually MC grew on him and he did end up softening up and falling in love (JUST LIKE THE SIMULATIONS! SCORE FOR MC). Would find a lot of the terminology MC uses weird but still made him want to learn what it meant. Did not know what “I ship it” meant when MC chuckled that when he started complaining about Mitsunari, but rest assured will gag when he finds out. Startles MC when they’re laying in bed and he says “I.. ship us.” awkwardly trying to use her weeb terminology, earning a kiss for this cute tsundere 😉. If MC could bring back some manga/anime, he’d be very intrigued with complex characters and plots that have both dark and light elements and have an overall empowering message. Relates to characters that have a tragic backstory but endure and grow stronger and roots for them in the end. (Might imagine MC as the love interest but don’t tell MC that)

Hideyoshi: Now the first thing coming out of MC’s mouth when he decided to trust her and smile at MC while offering to be friends and help carry the vase she was carrying was “A-am I witnessing gap moe in real life?” with a look of utter awe. This confused the heck out of him, “M-my name’s Hideyoshi. Who’s Gap-Moe?” Eventually would get used to the random terminology, although very confused. When he saw the anime themed keychains and wallet in MC’s purse and asked about it, he should’ve prepared tea because that was a looong lecture that he understood nothing of but found it adorable how excited MC was talking about it. “Wait so what are fangirls?” “You know those girls in town that rush to you and gush over you? Those are fangirls. My fangirl group just goes after fictional guys.”, making him confused even more while also lowkey wishing MC was his fangirl and wondering if he is a fanboy for MC (spoiler alert: he IS. And he’s a fanboy for Nobunga). Made him realize how much MC made his kokoro go doki doki (this is the most otaku trash phrase I’ve ever said). If MC could bring manga/anime, he’d love anime where good trumps evil and heroes defeat villains because he loves imagining defeating injustice and having a happy ending for Japan while defeating the cruel enemies and rivals around Nobunga. Also loves emotional/heart wrenching love story manga and anime that make you cry and get hit hard in the feels with the characters b/c he’s such a romantic with a big heart. Would hug the hell out of MC after finishing of any of those types of series while saying that he will always love her‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

Bonuses b/c I thought they’d be fun:

Shingen: Literally finds anything about MC fascinating, and the fact that they’re passionate about fictional stories and are so emotionally touched by them made him love that MC had a big heart, even for fictional characters. Gets a lil jealous when MC starts fawning over specific fictional dudes. When MC and Shingen are a couple and she starts talking about one of her fictional baes he’d probably literally sweep her off her feet and say something cheesy like “But can he do this” and swoop in for dat kiss. Would probably find his own meaning in the terminology and use it. “This is my waifu, my goddess, I am her biggest fanboy.” is how he’d probably introduce MC as (swoon). If MC could bring manga/anime, he’d be a hardcore sucker for romance anime and would reenact many of the romantic scenes, even the confession scenes. “Shingen we’re married. This is the 45th time you’ve confessed to me.” “But not like from this anime (´•ω•̥`). Would also like detective/mystery series bc he likes unraveling mysteries and plays behind the scenes.

Yukimura: “Not another Sasuke-speaker.” Would be hanging out with MC and Sasuke and listening to the weird terminologies. Would also probably make fun of MC at first for her fantasizing about fictional men and having merch of them saying “Is that cuz you can’t get a real life man?” (cue the heated arguing). Would eventually be intrigued by some of the story plots MC tells him and would eventually fall for her nerdiness and everything. Would ask Sasuke for help on coming up how to confess to MC like in the anime and otome games she talks about (A for effort, my boy). Would be a blushy puddle but puff his chest out if MC fangirled over him. If MC could bring anime and manga, he’d freaking LOVE superhero anime bc he just wants to save everyone and do whats right and he just looks like the type of dude that loves superheroes and superpowers and gets pumped when the hero defeats the bad guy.

Mitsuhide: Would be curious about these strange, foreign words MC says, even though its just fangirl lingo from 500 years in the future. Would probably tease MC if they had any keychains or small merch of anime characters. “Why have a pocket-sized man to love if there’s a full sized one right here.” 😉. Would find it very creative that there’s so many diverse stories and characters. Loves when MC gets excited talking about story plots, gets a lil jealous and tries steering the topic away from thirsting over the dudes. Would probably confess his feelings by saying “Is there a real life story about a kitsune falling for a foolish mouse and they become lovers for eternity?” “Not that I know of.” “Want to make that story happen?”. Would love speaking modern slang and otaku terms with MC because its like their own little love language and it also pisses Hideyoshi off since he doesn’t understand wtf they’re saying. If MC brought manga/anime, would love psychological based horror, seeing how characters react to scary situations and what’s the mental breaking point to madness, or plots with mind games and outwitting opponents bc he’s all about that big brain and likes seeing characters creatively outsmart enemies. Likes characters that are morally gray/antihero that do good but do so in unorthodox ways bc he relates to them (and is secretly smug if MC says they need more love bc it feels like she’s saying that about him too). Likes stories w/ bittersweet endings because he likes seeing the beauty in things while acknowledging the harshness and cruelty of life as well.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen headcanon #ikesen hc

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

All I Want For Christmas Is: Chocolate

Summary: all you wanted to do was sell your chocolates at the Christmas market. What you weren’t anticipating was finding someone as gorgeous as Jackson – or dealing his competitive nature over who made the best chocolates this Christmas.

Pairing: Jackson Wang x reader

Genre: enemies to lovers / Christmas au

Warnings: none

Word count: 2240

[All I Want For Christmas Is A Got7 Collab Masterlist]

“What can I offer you, ladies? A sweet, sugary delicacy? Or perhaps something more dark and sinful?”

Rolling your eyes as you watched the man across from your stall openly flirt with a group of women, you attempted to keep your reaction to just that. It was the time of year for festive joy and not for murderous contempt.

And yet that’s all you could manage when it came to Jackson Wang.

When you had been setting up your handmade chocolate stall on the first day of The White Miracle Market, you had been excited to finally get your sweet treats circulating further than your friends and family. It had taken some encouragement to even rent a space at the market this year, and some of your decision had been made because you knew a couple of your friends would be there as well. Still, it was a big deal for you since you had never put yourself out there before.

“Oh hey, chocolates, huh?”

Glancing up from the banner you were working on tying to the stand, you stared at the smiling man before you, silently thanking Santa for giving you your Christmas present early. He was gorgeous, and with the way his hair was brushed away from his face, the warmth of his eyes and the pearly smile he still shined at you, it was amazing you didn’t just get lost staring at his face. You had the foolish audacity to scale the rest of his form, deciding when you were done he was nothing more than a God.

No human had ever looked this good to you before.

Noticing the way he arched an eyebrow at your obvious examination and pursed his lips together, you blinked, rapidly instructing your brain to work.

To say anything.

“I love chocolate,” you breathed as you stared at his eyes, your brain catching up with what you had just uttered, sending a flash of colour across your cheeks. “I mean, making them. I love making chocolates.”

He grinned, folding his arms across his chest and you watched the action as if your entire life depended on it. “We have something in common then.”

“W-We do?”

How could you have anything in common with him? He was out here looking like he should be on the cover of every magazine in his cashmere turtleneck and you were certain you had cocoa powder somewhere in your hair from this morning’s mad dash to make several more batches of chocolates.

“Of course,” he replied with an amused chuckle, pointing to the stall right across from yours. “That’s me.”

Eyes now the size of saucers, you attempted to regain a sense of coherency. “Y-You make chocolates?”

“Not any kind of chocolates,” he oozed and you decided his tone was as sweet as the delicacies you were selling. “Mine are organic and made with fair-trade sourced ingredients.”

Oh.

Swallowing roughly, you attempted to smile. “Wow, that’s really neat.”

“I even have some for dairy-free customers. You never know when you’re going to strike someone with an allergy, right?”

Nodding numbly, you half turned, attempting to straighten out your banner that had fallen sideways when you had lost attention on it. The man moved to assist you, startling you somewhat. “You didn’t tell me your name. I’m Jackson. Jackson Wang.”

As you gave over your own name, you were trying to remain optimistic.

But the light was fading out.

You would spend the next month across from the most handsome man you had ever seen. And what was worse than having him so close to you every day was that he was your only competitor.

It surprised you how well your sales had gone on the opening day of the market. You had been hesitant as you continued setting up, taking glances over in Jackson’s direction now and then. Not only did his stall look professional compared to your more farm-style one, he just exuded an energy that made you feel feeble. Still, your chocolates had garnered a lot of interest and you were rushed off your feet trying to keep up.

“Wow, these are really creamy!”

“I can’t believe the quality of these chocolates. Do you have a website I could order some from in the future?”

“Are you sure these are homemade? They’re out of this world tasty!”

These comments had you rising to the challenge. You held your head high, smiling brightly over at Jackson whenever he caught your eye through the hoards of punters approaching your stall. It wasn’t meant to be a silent offering of battle, rather, you just felt you did indeed have more in common with him like he had mentioned.

You made chocolates and you were doing exceptionally well at selling them.

The next day, however, your success had clearly prompted Jackson to come up with a sales pitch. As people wandered down the small aisle of stalls, he angled himself to catch their attention, graciously calling them over to try real, authentic chocolate.

At first, it hadn’t bothered you but when he mentioned he was certain other people used lesser quality ingredients compared to him, whilst staring at you the entire time, well, it got to you a little. When business died down, you marched over the aisle to his stall, placing your hands on your hips. “Can we talk?”

“Do you want to try some, Y/N? I’ll give you a taste that will blow your mind.”

You were too worked up to fully be affected by the way his eyelashes fluttered or that he purposely leaned into you either. You dug your hands further into your sides, making no move to take his offering. “We can co-exist here, Jackson.”

“Of course we can, isn’t that what we are doing? You’re doing your little treats and I’m over here with my organic delicacies. There’s room for us both.”

“You’re acting as if my chocolates are worthless and I’ve heard you say more than once today that mine are poorly made. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I said nothing about you. I merely said other chocolates-”

“Whilst staring at me-”

“Just don’t have the same impact as mine does. That’s all,” he continued as if you hadn’t interrupted him, smiling smugly as he placed down his samples container. “I definitely didn’t mean any hard feelings about it. I’m just selling my products how I usually do.”

“Right, well please try to be more considerate. It’s the Christmas season and we’re all here for the same reason. I’m not going to stamp all over you so let’s share the space together.”

You turned to walk off when he scoffed, hearing the words he spoke under his breath before greeting new customers to his booth.

Like you could even match me.

As you returned to your own stand, you watched on as he worked on his selling pitch, his eyes casting over in your direction.

Instead of shrinking away you squared your jaw, shooting him back a challenging look.

If he wanted to make this personal, you would have no issues in proving just how well you matched up to him.

It was now war.

Over the following week, running your stall at the market had become exhausting. It wasn’t from all the chocolates you made each day to supply the demand for them or even the daily setup and closure of your booth.

It was from dealing with Jackson and his outlandish ways.

Your sales dipped when he started to offer a new caramel flavour to his menu, and when you came up with the idea of bulk bins, you definitely stole the show. Sure, you had people who would buy from both stalls to keep everyone happy, but on a whole, it was a race to see who could get a potential buyer to come over first.

You drew the line at openly flirting to make a sale though.

“Don’t you want to try a line or two on me?” a bored sounding tone wondered and you looked up at the man, noticing he was from the ticket booth. Your forehead creased as you tried to decipher his question. Jerking his head in the direction of Jackson leaning over his stall and talking up a set of women, you groaned, shaking your head.

“I don’t play that dirty,” you answered gruffly and he lazily grinned, picking up several bags of the chocolates.

“Oi, Jinyoung! What the hell?! Get over here!” Jackson called when he saw who was spending his time perusing your chocolates and you blinked slowly as Jinyoung, as you now knew him as, pushed some money into your hand.

He held up the treats. “Thanks for this. Not only will I have something to get me through the hell that is my shift, but I got to piss Jackson off too.”

“Uh, thanks for your purchase!” you called as he trudged off, leaving you wide-eyed and unprepared for Jackson’s approach.

“How many did he buy?”

“What?”

“Your chocolates! How many?”

“Six packs.”

“Six?! That cheap asshole told me he couldn’t even afford to buy two from me!”

“Well, your prices are higher than mine. You know, to cover all those harder to source, fair-trade and less of an unethical footprint on the Earth chocolates of yours.”

Jackson raked an unsteady hand through his hair. “I’m watching you.”

“For what?! This is ridiculous, don’t you think?” you finally announced, gesturing between you both. “We’re making fucking chocolates, Jackson. This isn’t some multi-corporate thing but just a side business for the holidays. I admire your pride in your creations, but we’re acting so pathetic fighting over who does better! I’m done caring anymore. As long as it stops you throwing yourself at women to catch their attention with your handsome face, it’ll make the rest of this market that much smoother to put up with if we stop competing over who is better!”

Jackson couldn’t help but smirk. “I’m handsome?”

“Is that all you got from what I just said?” you whined, shaking your head incredulously.

“Actually, I got a whole lot more from it.” His face now thoughtful, Jackson reached over and gently took a hold of your forearm.

You’d be lying if you said that, even if you had wanted to murder this asshole all week long, Jackson touching you didn’t make you shiver with delight. You were tingling all over when he smiled genuinely at you. “Tomorrow, can I come over to yours? I think I have a great idea.”

Despite being hesitant, Jackson coming over to your apartment to make chocolates had been the best decision you had made. You shared recipes and tricks you had each learned in the process of making chocolates. And you had found a way to come together, creating the best batches of chocolate you had ever tasted.

Of course, they were a hit at the market too.

“Weren’t you two opposite each other last time I was here?” a man asked as he took a sample, his face lighting up with the taste. “And these have improved!”

“We decided we had a lot more in common than we thought and combined our styles. Would you like to purchase any of our chocolates?” Jackson pitched and the man bought ten.

That day you made more sales than you had in an entire week. And you sold out before the market closed that the next day you tripled the amount you made together with Jackson.

As you packaged up the treats and handed them to Jackson to place into one of the storage bins, you smiled at him. “You know, we make a good team.”

“You’re only just realising this now?”

Rolling your eyes, you nudged him playfully as you handed him another package. “We should have joined forces earlier than fighting over who had the best chocolates.”

“I’m glad we took our time though,” Jackson replied and you frowned, glancing at him curiously. He grinned, nudging you back. “I can’t lie and say it wasn’t fun.”

“It was fun for you?!”

“Seeing you light up as you tried to out-pitch me was really attractive, Y/N. I sure got to see a whole different side to you that I wouldn’t, had we remained civil.”

“A-Attractive?”

“You don’t think it was just you checking someone out, right?” Jackson wondered with a laugh. “When I first saw you, I thought Santa had-”

“Given you an early present this year,” you finished off for him, and Jackson gaped at you. You giggled. “I guess we both had the same intentions from the beginning.”

“To make the best chocolates and be in the company of someone gorgeous?” Jackson offered as you blushed, handing him another package. He took your hand instead, smiling at you in a way that made you feel as if it was made just for you. All the air was knocked out of you, and you scolded yourself for still falling trap to his charms.

“I mean, making the best chocolates is a given, right?” you managed, attempting to restart your heart by looking away.

Jackson then popped a piece of chocolate into your mouth, surprising you as you felt it began to melt upon your tongue. He then swiftly leaned in to kiss you, this kiss sweeter than anything you had ever tasted before.

When he pulled back, he grinned. “You’re right; we really do make the best chocolates.”

_________________

[Christmas 2019 Masterlist] | [GOT7 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

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princesstutufandemonium · 4 years

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Rapsblüte no Yoru (Princess Tutu epilogue skit) and my thoughts

Or: Why a bitch is still salty after 9 years

So, as previously mentioned on this blog, there was a skit presented at a Princess Tutu convention in 2004 by series creator Ikuko Itoh and chief director Junichi Sato called “Rapsblüte no Yoru.” It takes place about a year after the anime’s ending and serves to wrap up some loose ends about the characters and their feelings - particularly Ahiru and Mytho.

So I’ve talked about it before, but now more time has passed, so I thought I’d let the raging monster out of its slumber to REALLY address the epilogue and my own uncensored thoughts and feelings about it. Half of this ended up reading like a rant, really, but I just had to get it all out there.

Here is the skit, as recited by Japanese blogger Goma and translated by LiveJournal user csakuras, along with my reactions and thoughts, which are indicated by the blockquotes.

"Quaack.." Ahiru seems to be swimming on the river during a night with a beautiful moon It's been a while since then, and every day I'm happy. It's fun talking with my bird friends, and Madam Pelican is a little noisy, but...it's fun. And besides......whenever I look up, Fakir is always there.

So Ahiru has returned to life as a bird and has settled in well. Good for her.

Ahiru: "I've come all the way to Gold Crown Academy....somehow I feel like dancing." Saying that, Ahiru climbs onto the bank and is surprised to find the whole surface covered with rape blossoms. Ahiru: "Gwak!!" Autor: "Oh? What's this?" It seems he stepped on Ahiru.. Ahiru: "Gwakgwak!!" Ahiru protests. Autor: "Oh it's you, Ahiru-kun...isn't Fakir with you?" Autor backs away as Ahiru tries to talk to him. Autor: "Sorry, but could you not get so close? I'll start sneezing from my bird allergies." (The mystery of his dislike of birds is solved.) Ahiru: "Charon-san and Raetsel-san had a child so Fakir went to the celebration."

The idea of this seems to negate all of Raetsel’s development, but okay then.

Autor: "I see....by the way, did you come to see the Night of Rapsblüte too?" Ahiru: "Rap..Rapsblüte?" Ahiru asks curiously. Ahiru: "Rapsblüte are rape blossoms, right?" Here, Autor goes Hnph! with his nose as if making fun of her. Autor: "The Night of Rapsblüte is when once every 50 years, all the rape blossoms bloom simultaneously on a night of the full moon. According to what I've researched in the library, in the records of a student from 50 years ago, there is an eye-witness account." Ahiru heaves a sigh (lol) Autor: "And tonight, the weather, the date, everything matches with the past data!" Autor is full of confidence. "Besides that, you're in the music department so maybe you should be studying piano instead..." Ahiru mutters. Autor: "Did you say something?" Ahiru: "Huh? Autor can understand me." Hnph, he laughs at her with his nose again. Autor: "Anything can happen tonight and it wouldn't be strange." Ahiru: "The moon is so pretty..." (Here, a man wearing a mask of the moon appears from behind..it's a great hit in the assembly) Autor: "What's that? An onion?" Ahiru: "!!" Uzura: "Ho~ Ahiru zura~" *Tototon* (her drum) Ahiru: "Uzura-chan!!" Ahiru: "Uzura-chan! Where were you?" Uzura: "I've been wandering the interval of time with the old man zura."

WHAT does that even mean?! What is the interval of time?! Considering Uzura’s previous life as Edel, it’s surprising that Uzura chooses to stick with Drosselmeyer. He’s the one who put her Ahiru and Fakir through so much trouble, after all. Then again, Uzura is a child and probably has no memory or idea of the role Drosselmeyer played and the evil things he did. Uzura also isn’t human, so maybe human morals don’t bother her as much.

Ahiru: "By the old man do you mean Drosselmyer-san? Then where's Drosselmyer-san?" "Drosselmyer?!!" <--(Autor's switch is on) Uzura: "The old man is busy with updating the site zura, sorry he's so irresponsible zura." (Here, Director Satou is rolling with laughter.) Autor: "Why didn't you bring him with you?!" Clearly, his Drosselmyer otaku switch is on lol

I hate you, Autor. I try not to but I do.

Uzura: "One more is coming zura." Autor: "One more?" Mytho: ".......Tutu." Ahiru: "Mytho!!" (I can never forget Ahiru's sad voice here)

Ah, and here it is. The agony.

You know, I could possibly stomach the whole damn ending of the show if the epilogue doesn’t go on to make it entirely clear how heartbroken Ahiru still is. I mean, if Ahiru is actually happy, there’s nothing more you can want for her. But this here kind of ruins it. Like, why?! How am I supposed to be content with her situation when she’s sad at the mere sight of Mytho?!

Mytho: "It's been a while...." Uzura: "He was dancing on the balcony so I brought him zura." (....At your own pace as usual, Prince.) Autor: "Prince Siegfried from the story!! Myu...Mytho-san." (He sounds as emotional as if he were meeting Drosselmyer.) Mytho: "Are you Fakir's friend...?" Autor: "I'm Autor!" Mytho: "You were the one who helped Fakir? Thank you..." (How does he know..)

How DOES he know? Well, there was a tiny time skip between the defeat of the Raven and Mytho and Rue’s departure to the story. Perhaps things were explained a little during then.

Autor: "No! It was an honor." (only dimly remember) Mytho: "If I remember correctly, during our ballet lessons you were asked by Neko-sensei to accompany us on piano." Autor: "Yes, I was asked to accompany you on piano by Neko-sensei 11 times, and I passed by you with Neko-sensei in the hall 27 times." (Jeez, Autor's in high spirits (lol)) Mytho: "Fakir sometimes sees cows and alligators flying in the sky, so I'm worried. Could you take care of Fakir?"

Mytho seems to naturally be a little bit of an airhead. It’s funny to see that qualities of him that we saw in the anime can be attributed not to his lack of a heart and common sense, but just to how his personality really is. Cute.

Autor: "Yes!! Mytho-san, please leave him to me." (He's been left to him without having a say, Fakir's in a pinch (lol)) Ahiru: "Mytho? How is Rue-chan?" Mytho: "Rue is doing well." Mytho: "It seems Rue is good at singing too and she's a popular princess among the people." Autor: "Rue-san?"

So Rue is a true lady of the arts, not good only at dancing but at singing too. Interesting that she’s so popular, considering that she honestly doesn’t seem to be the most sociable person. Polite, but not going out of her way to be friendly. Perhaps her time in the story with Mytho has defrosted her even more. What is the new Rue like, I wonder?

Uzura: "Mytho is rabu-rabu with Rue zura~" Autor: "Could you be quiet for a while..." His voice is lacking energy and sounds like he might cry (He knows they're rivals in love..is that okay?)

WHY is Autor so torn up over Rue still?! He never even really spent time with her. Foolish kids, I tell you. She was hardly more than a pretty face to him.

Ahiru: "Thank goodness... Mytho. "The Concluding Volume of The Prince and the Raven" got published. It's not a story without an end anymore." Ahiru: "And also, soon Fakir's going to dance an all-male version of La Sylphide with Matthew Bourne-sensei's choreography!"

Soooo this part is confusing. The concluding volume… So The Prince and the Raven was a story published in installments? The show made it look like it was just a single novel. Unless they mean that they simply published an official ending… But if the story was given an ending, wouldn’t that affect the storybook world? And who wrote the ending and got it published, Fakir? A couple of questions that remain here.

Mytho: "Fakir....I always feel like I'm connected with Fakir..the more my country becomes peaceful, I can feel him close by." (It's...mostly dim recollection. Just the nuance of it.)

Yeah, don’t act like you didn’t just up and leave him AND Ahiru once your business was finished, Mytho. Anyways, skipping the salt, does this mean that Fakir’s conclusion to the novel made things more peaceful in the story world? That’s what it sounds like to me.

Actually, isn’t it kind of scary that Fakir can still wield influence over Mytho’s world? What if he got pissed off at him? yikes

Ahiru: "Mytho...." "You should meet Fakir! He's coming back tomorrow..so then.." Mytho: "I can't..I can only come here because the interval of time is connected tonight..see, the moon is already sinking this much." (The man playing the moon sinks down (lol) The assembly bursts into laughter again) "I see..."

WHAT is with this ‘interval of time’ nonsense again! Someone explain it to me!

Also, fuck Fakir, apparently.

Mytho: "Princess Tutu.....thanks to you, I can be like this. Thank you." Ahiru: "I wanted to see you smile, so my wish is already granted." (only dimly remember)

AND THERE IT FINALLY IS!!!

“Thank you, Tutu, for risking your life to save mine and restore my happiness and holding your tongue about your feelings for me so I could do nothing for you in return and leave hours later.”

No, I’m not salty. Anyways, the abrupt ending to the show without much dialogue was due to time constraints, not necessarily a true display of Mytho’s character, which I guess this epilogue was partly written to fix. It does seem pretty heartless when you watch the anime, though.

Mytho: "Princess Tutu, I wanted to be with you longer. I wanted to talk with you like this longer....to me, you are the light....because you are someone very special..." (?? Mytho/Ahiru?)

See, this is why I just can’t do it. Like, Mytho, are you fucking kidding?! You leave her alone as a duck and now you want to sweet-talk her?!

But actually, all bitterness aside, this is really sad. They obviously care for each other, but because of circumstances and plot, never once did they have the time to really just… talk.

And he still sees her as the light. I saw some people kind of making fun of this, but of COURSE he does. There was a considerable period of time when she was the only person vouching for him, keeping him safe, acting as his voice… and ultimately saving him in every way. He can only be a real person again because of her, and she never faltered in her mission. That’s INCREDIBLE. Of course he would hold her in high regard.

Mytho: "But, I have to protect Rue. Rue needs me...." (I'm sorry, it's completely out of memory...because I was so overwhelmed..(lol) I should take my reeling in moderation)

And here’s the dagger. After talking about how highly he thinks of Ahiru/Tutu… he backtracks by saying Rue needs him.

And you know why this is REALLY fucking sad? He doesn’t say that “But, I really enjoy being with Rue” or “But, I love Rue.”

He says he has to PROTECT Rue. Rue NEEDS him.

I don’t think I need to dive too deep into the implications of his wording to spell out why this is upsetting, but I’ll sum it up quick. Instead of saying he likes being with Rue, he says Rue needs me. That’s the first thing that comes to mind.

And if it means what I think it means, that’s just fucking harsh. That’s not fair for Rue. That’s not fair for Ahiru. That’s not fair for Mytho.

I mean, we all know the prince has a savior-complex, but the implication that he chose Rue because he feels a sense of duty to protect her instead of romantic affection is kind of… tragic. That’s not a happy ending at all, really. Does Rue have any idea?

I think this is why I have an issue with Ruetho, because no matter what you can’t escape the fact that Mytho will always view her through the lens of what she suffered. It’s just in his personality as a heroic, selfless prince. Doesn’t Rue deserve someone who sees her as… more than someone to protect?

Whatever, can’t be changed now.

Mytho: "Tutu...you have done so much for me, but I couldn't do anything for you." "Is there something I can do for you, Tutu?"

WHAT on Earth could he possibly expect to be able to do for her?! I mean, short of turning her human again, but I’m guessing that’s out of the scope of his abilities. Don’t be so bait-y.

Ahiru: "......Mytho! I.........." "No, nevermind..." (Ahiru sounds incredibly sad)

AUGHHHHHHHH

What was she going to say? You know what, probably doesn’t matter anyway. We know what she wants… she can’t have it, though.

Mytho: "It's almost time..." "See you again....Tutu...." (Jeez..I don't remember any of it) Ahiru: "Can we meet again?" Mytho: "Surely we will meet again..." Mytho (or is it Yanagi-san? lol): "We can meet again, when Sakurai-kun is here." (The assembly explodes with laughter)

NOOOOOOOO

No no no

No, do NOT meet again. This is just asking for trouble. Ahiru clearly isn’t over Mytho, and Mytho… clearly does not have his priorities straightened out. If they keep meeting like this…

Well, as the anime shows, it wouldn’t be the first time they put themselves through the wringer for love. Mytho recites something in German. "Waaao!!" <--(Uzura)

What did he say? I’m curious.

Here, Mytho says his never-ending feelings for Tutu (if someone remembers this part please tell me~) And at the end, Mytho: ".......Ahiru."

……..Yeahhh, probably not a good idea to meet again.

Like, I get that this epilogue is to ‘tie up loose ends’ including the torched remnants of Mythiru that were dropped so abruptly at the end, but...

Why, oh why, Mytho, did you choose Rue if you’re still hung up on Tutu?

Additionally, we see that Mytho DOES now know that Tutu is Ahiru. That’s bittersweet too, but in more of a good way. He finally knows that the little passionate goofball was the princess all along. I wonder who told him, or how he found out. Did he just figure it out on his own? Like, the duck that was once Princess Tutu must be Ahiru because Ahiru = duck? Maybe Uzura told him? I doubt Fakir would’ve, simply because once she was back to being a duck again permanently, there was really no reason to tell Mytho. Couldn’t much matter anymore, right?

Ahiru: "I get the feeling I heard Mytho's voice at the end." I am a duck....I can't wear toe shoes, I can't dance.. (I'm sorry, I don't remember) But inside my chest there is a sparkling gem that will never be broken. The end.

And that’s it.

Sooo a lot of conflicted feelings coming at me from this, if you couldn’t tell. I guess first is the question of whether or not this could be considered canon.

Honestly? I think so. Both Ikuko Itoh and Junichi Sato, the people behind Princess Tutu, worked on this and presented it. They even had some of the Japanese VAs present to act it out. Additionally, as I’d mentioned previously, it addresses some questions that were left open due to the somewhat rushed ending of the anime’s finale. And nothing presented in this skit goes against the show’s canon or really comes out of left field (aside Charon and Raetsel man tf). It’s short and sweet.

Moving on, the first time I read this I was really happy, simply because it makes it clear that YES, Mytho does return Ahiru’s feelings. Which I guess was clear in the anime too, but this skit makes it undeniable. It’s nice to feel validated.

But as time goes on and I’ve had the chance to chew over and really digest it… It’s kind of a really crappy situation for our heroine and hero. Like, so they are in love, and they want to continue seeing each other… but Mytho is SUPPOSED to be spoken for with Rue, and Ahiru is a duck. Not to mention that Ahiru is Rue’s FRIEND. C’mon girl, chicks before dicks. Of course, they could still interact platonically, but the confession from Mytho in this skit kind of shot that possibility dead. And what about Fakir in this mess? Granted, Fakir isn’t stupid – he’s known that Ahiru loves Mytho from the beginning, and it’s not exactly like he can be in a relationship with a duck. But still.

Maybe I’m just looking too far into things, but with a piece this short and direct, I don’t know how deep you can really dive.

Anyways, my final thoughts are: Mythiru is canon but in the most tragic way possible, Rue deserves better, annnnnnd I’m still left unsatisfied.

#princess tutu #pt #tutu #ahiru #mythiru #mythotutu #rant

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faulty-writes · 4 years

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Hi!! Love your work, can I request something for bakugou where his s/o gets pushed in a frozen lake or anything else cold enough and for enough time for hypothermia to begin to set in, near the end of a fight (not with each other, like, a fight) with prompt 103? Where he needs to try and keep the s/o awake and warm. You can decide how it ends, fluff or angst. It’s totally fine if you can’t or don’t want to do this tho. Thanks regardless!

[Requests: OPEN]

[I added a bit of a twist to this, as I already did a request involving a frozen lake. But I still hope you enjoy.]

Prompt 103. “I’m just tired…”

Damn it all. This wasn't good. Part of you knew you were being foolish when you made the choice to follow the villain despite Bakugou screaming at you to stay put. He always tried to protect you, but you knew he couldn't actually fight off everyone by himself. He was strong, yes, but he wasn't All Might strong. "Hold it!" you snapped, not realizing you had followed the villain to a dead end. A large rock wall cut off his path and a faint amount of water dripped down the jagged surface.

You took a step closer and watched the villain hold up his hands. “Oh, my apologies,” he said, though you couldn’t see the smirk on his face. You pressed your lips together, “I thought a young hero would know better, however.” your steps came to a stop. “What do you mean?” you questioned, eyes narrowed in the man’s direction. “You’ll find out,” he whispered before you noticed the temperature dropping. You shivered and rubbed your arms, seeing your breath should have been a fair enough warning for you to realize.

“What did you do?” you demanded with your teeth chattering. The villain turned around to face you with a smirk, “Oh? Remember when I said you’d find out?” he chuckled and raised his hand and you noticed there were snowflakes circling around it. You shivered and continued to rub your arms, just trying to stay warm. “You see little hero, my quirk allows me to manipulate and control all forms of cold weather. This includes having the ability to drop the temperature around me, create snow, and my personal favorite …” he snapped his fingers and you felt cold drops beginning to descend from the sky.

“Rain.” you hissed before a shiver ran down your spine. He smirked at you, “Correct, your body will be frozen by the time I’m done with you.” he chuckled again before charging straight for you. “Damn it!” you cursed, your body still trembling but you managed to dodge his attack. “You’re wrong! As long as I keep moving, my body will stay warm!” you snapped and he scoffed, “I highly doubt that hero,” he said before charging at you once more, his fist reeled back in an attempt to punch you but you grabbed his wrist.

“You like to talk don’t you?” he grinned at your question before your leg came up, hitting him in the chest. You kept hold of his wrist and threw him to the ground, at least you were fast when it came to combat. Your body continued to involuntarily shake as the villain got back onto his feet. “Well, I can be nice when I choose to. But you just pissed me off,” he growled and held up his hand, snow came hurtling towards you. “Ah!” a soft hiss came and you crossed your arms as the cold substance hit you.

“Heh, as we speak I’m still lowering the temperature. Soon enough your body will begin to go into hypothermia.” he then laughed, the thought of a hero in pain giving him some sort of twisted happiness. You, however, didn’t find it humorous. You clenched your jaw, knowing that you had to take this villain out. For a brief moment you wondered what Bakugou was doing, and just hoped he was all right. But once more you shifted your focus to the villain in front of you, your hands slowly curling into fists before you ran towards him.

Despite the snow that still covered your body and made you tremble, you had decided you needed to put this villain in his place before you froze to death as he threatened. But he proved to be a difficult opponent as you found yourself struggling to win the battle against him. His hands proved to be his most dangerous weapon, whenever they touched your already freezing body it left behind ice burns making it all the more difficult to move. Damn him. Your heart was racing and despite feeling a bit of warmth, you came to realize the cold surroundings would prevent your body temperature from rising.

You stutter out a breath, but it evaporates into the air. Thin lines of ice were growing on your skin, contributing to the ice burns you already had. Your skin was beginning to lose color and your shaking grew violent, you took a step forward but kept your arms wrapped around you. The villain chuckled, though he too looked beat up seeing as you had managed to land a few hits on him. You felt your eyes grow heavy and an overall drowsy feeling began to overtake you.

Your breathing started to slow and you found it harder and harder to take oxygen into your lungs. The villain kept his eyes locked on you, still giving soft pants of his own. “Feeling the weight of my quirk huh?” you blinked, “W-What?” you questioned, feeling rather confused by his question. “Ah, so I see the first few stages of hypothermia are setting in.” a twisted smirk came across his face. “I love heroes when they’re helpless,” he said with joy in his voice before he charged at you. You let out another breath, he was right, you were helpless.

You couldn’t move, you were frozen there. If the villain didn’t kill you, surely the hypothermia would. You closed your eyes as he came closer, hoping you wouldn’t feel too much pain. Your body was numb after all, “There you are DUMBASS!” Bakugou’s voice broke the silence and you opened your eyes to see your boyfriend, his explosions propelling him towards you. “Don’t run away from me next time!” he snapped before grabbing you by the waist, his free arm was used on the villain. You heard them cry out, more than likely clenching his face that now gave off steam.

You knew for a fact that while Bakugou’s quirk was nothing compared to that of a fire quirk. It could still cause burns when used up close and personal. “Come on! Dumbass, making me save you like this!” he growled before he redirected his explosions, now soaring towards the sky. You clung to him, seeking his warmth before he landed on top of the rock formation that you previously thought was a dead end. “Are you okay? Your body is freezing,” he growled as he lowered you to your feet.

You were still shaking and with the way Bakugou’s eyes were scanning you up and down, you could only assume that he had seen the burns you received. “Dammit, you IDIOT.” he snapped, watching as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry.” you replied, your teeth too busy chattering to speak properly. Your body was dripping with water, in addition to the small patches of ice that still stuck to your skin. Your head was spinning and the only thing you wanted was warmth.

Bakugou sighed, though he was worried about you. “Come here,” he demanded as he pulled you close, you gasped and pressed yourself as closely as you could to him. His warmth was like a campfire to you and you needed it. “You’re so stupid, running off like that,” he muttered, trying to ignore his now wet shirt. He sighed and kept his arms wrapped around you, knowing that yelling isn’t what you needed right now. Still, you had made him worry, even more so as he felt your shaking.

He rested his chin on top of your head, squeezing you against him. He felt guilty every time you trembled, but at the moment it was unrealistic to start a fire. Especially with the amount of woods that surrounded you. He paused when you nuzzled into his neck, “Hey …” he grabbed your shoulders, forcing you back. Your eyelids were droopy and overall, you wanted to sleep. “Are you okay? Stay awake!” he demanded as he slapped your cheek which he was happy to see had gotten a bit warmer.

You groaned in response before yawning. “I’m just tired…” you said in a soft whisper, looking at the blond with a smile or at least you tried to, but you were only greeted with his concerned expression. “Damn it …” he hissed and you remember feeling him move, his arms cradling you like a precious package as he proceeded to find help. It became easier to breathe as Bakugou’s body heat grew which was mostly due to the fact he was running, desperate to find someone to help.

Eventually, Bakugou ran into the person he hated the most. His frenemy, Izuku Midoriya. “Deku!” he cried out, charging towards the green-haired boy who looked rather concerned as he saw the state you were in. “What happened?” he questioned and Bakugou scraped his teeth together. “What the HELL does it look like!? Damn Deku! Help me with them!” he demanded and while Midoriya looked scared as he usually did whenever Bakugou yelled, he helped his old friend carry you inside.

When you came to, you found yourself in bed. At least a dozen blankets were draped over you and you turned your head to see Bakugou lying there next to you. His arms were wrapped around you and a soft blush came to your cheeks. Why was he next to you? Maybe he was just that worried, either way, you couldn’t help but smile as you reached over to take his hand.

It was still as warm as you remember and you chuckled as you laid your head back on the pillow. Just watching Bakugou’s sleepy face and you knew you’d have to thank him when he woke up. For now, you scooted closer and continued to bask in his warmth.

#Anonymous #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha requests

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kakusu-shipping · 3 years

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Cheren’s need for strength

What’s up self-inserts and shippers who stayed around for some reason, I’m again playing Pokemon Black because I have need the serotonin, and as I do I’ve been revamping my Pokemon B&W self-insert. As I’ve been doing that one very powerful scene has been replaying in my head over and over again. So I’m gonna write that down for the sake of my sanity.

For context: Cheren, Bianca and I, up until Burg‘s gym have been doing every major story step together. Much more like Ash and his traveling companions in the anime. So Cheren’s extreme rivalry and need for Strength didn’t make sense in my SI story. Thus, this little tid-bit, to give him drive.

“Hm... Very well. We shall submit to your will and be on our way.” Ghetsis turned his attention to the Plasma grunt gripping Bianca’s purse beside him, “Return this girl’s Pokemon.”

The grunt growled lowly in his throat before throwing the back roughly at Bianca. Cheren caught it before it could hit the poor girl in the face, then gently handed it to her.

Bianca opened the back and quickly checked her pokeballs, tears filled her eyes as she gripped the bag, “Th-Thankyou...” She whimpered.

“Don’t thank them! they stole it in the first place!” Iris shouted, her hair puffing up like a pissed Purloin’s tail.

“I-I’m just... s-so happy my Pokemon are okay...” Bianca hiccuped, hugging her bag.

Cheren swallowed a lump in his throat, seeing one of his best friend’s sob, so scared, yet relieved.

The sound of a Pokemon being released from it’s ball caught his attention. He turned to see Emile, his Servine ready to attack before him.

“Bianca, call the police.” The white haired trainer said sternly.

“Oh?” Ghetsis tilted his head, looking down his nose and the foolish trainer, “I thought we were in agreement? We return the Pokemon that was mistakenly stolen, and you allow us to go.”

“Not happening.” Emile’s glare was harsh on the old man, determined. “Bianca. Go.” He commanded.

“A-Ah..! R-Right! Okay!” Bianca gripped her back, quickly rushing out the door.

Cheren shared and glance with Emile, before releasing his Pignite, “Right. We’re not letting criminals like you get away.”

“That’s right!” Iris agreed, a much more intimidating Pokemon, Haxorus, stood before the small, still puffy haired girl.

“Well... I suppose I will assist then.” Burg smirked, his Leavanny proudly joining the line.

The four stood strong, two gym leaders, two promising young trainers, and a Victini backing them up from the sidelines. This would be challenging for the grunts to handle with what weak Pokemon they’d acquired. They were intimidated by this display, his underlings. But Ghetsis still held his confident smirk.

“I see. Then I suppose I have no choice,” He held a PokeBall out, “Please remember, you forced me to do this.”

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

Bianca stumbled though her call with the authorities, still out of breath from sobbing as she gripped her bag tightly, still subconsciously worried her precious Pokemon would be taken from her again.

“Y-Yes, that’s right! T-Team Plasma! Th-They’re in the empty building across from the gym! B-Burg’s holding them off b-but-” Her words cut at the glass door to the buisness building behind her shattered, a body coming crashing though,

“EMILE!” Cheren’s voice shrieked from inside. He quickly recalled his horribly injured Pokemon and dashed from the building.

Emile laid on the cement pathways of Castelia city, his shoulder, wrist, and hip bleeding heavily from deep bite wounds. In his arms he tightly gripped Victini, who was in worse shape than himself.

“E-Emile! Emile!!” Cheren shouted in panic and shook his unconscious friend as he slowly bled out on the side walk. Bianca stared in horror, the police officer on the other side of her X-Transceiver call attempting to regain the girl’s attention

The timid trainer turned to look within the broken doors of the large building behind her. There, Iris and Burg laid unconscious against the wall, their Pokemon along side them.

The beast that tore though them all floated in the center of the room, six wings kept the three headed black furred beast from the ground. It’s eyes glowed red in rage.

Bianca froze upon locking eyes on it, cold fear ran though her entire body. She gripped her bag tight enough to turn her knuckles white.

They Pokemon snarled, roaring with all three of it’s heads, and charged at the girl.

She flinched and shut her eyes tightly, her breath stopped and she braced for impact, but it never came.

Ghetsis stepped out of the broken door, his Grunts running freely down the street ahead of him. He pocketed the PokeBall in his hand, and gave Bianca a glance.

A smirked crossed his face, “Let this be a warning to you. Stay out of Team Plasma’s way.”

He turned, and followed the racing steps of his grunts calmly.

Bianca watched him go slowly, then collapsed, gasping for air as she desperately tried not to throw up. Behind her, should could still hear Cheren shouting for Emile to wake up.

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

What was that Pokemon? Ghetsis didn’t give it a single command, and yet it was strong enough to wipe their teams without taking any hits. It even took out a Mythical Pokemon without any troubles!

Cheren stared down at Emile, resting with his wounds bandaged, Victini sleeping peacefully on his chest with Bianca slept close by in a chair.

If he’d just been stronger.....

No, not just stronger. An extra battle or two wouldn’t have prevented Emile from running in to fist fight a monster.

He’d need to be the strongest trainer in all of Unova to have done that.

The strongest... in all of Unova... like... The Champion?

Cheren once again glanced at his friends. They were both weaker than him, yet they ran head first into any and every challenge. Someone needed to be strong enough to protect him.

The young trainer stood up, grabbing his bag from the floor, he slowly left the hospital room. He had to challenge the Burg, then Elesa, Clay... He’d beat them all. He’d beat the champion. He’d be strong.

Stronger than anyone in all of Unova.

#Pokemon #Self-insert #Friendship stuff #Uh...#TW Blood #But like a lil #And in writing only #TW Injury #Again not like super graphic but worse than usual Pokemon stuff #N #I'm tagging him because he IS my main reason for this Self-insert being so in-depth #Even if this fic is about Cheren and Bianca #And my Victini whomst I love and wish I could get in game #Because he's my cute little brother and I love him....#Anyway I wanted to write this because I hate Ghetsis and his stupid face #and I wanted to write him #And his Hydregion who's super interesting to me #Because I know it so doesn't listen to him but that doesn't matter at all #It'll still win every battle just like #It'll super over kill anything in it's path #In this SI universe I actually loose all my battles against Cheren #And my team is very wishy-washy on what Pokemon I have #I super don't have a set team #I like too many Unovan Pokemon!!! They're all so good!!!#Also like N I can speak to Pokemon #Because until the age of 5 I was raised by Entei and Heatran!#In fact I'm childhood friends of N!#Not long time just like a few months #Entei brought me to Unova so Heatran would stop kidnapping me away from the adults he deemed good enough to actually raise me #And while he was scoping for possible parents we lived in the same forest as N and his PokeDad Darmanitan

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nightowlfandom · 5 years

Text

The King’s Pet Princess- Royal! BTS x Reader Series Part 5- Yoongi 1

REQUESTS FROM PROMPT LIST- RIGHT HERE!

READ PART ONE | READ PART 2 (NAMJOON) | READ PART 3 (JUNGKOOK) | READ PART 4 (HOSEOK)

Since no one had a name for Y/N’s pet lion....I guess I’ll have to choose and shame on you.....

We’re gonna name the lion Carmen. Gotta problem? Good.

LEGGO! (i’M NOT GETTING RID OF THE LEGGO IT’S STAYING FOREVERRRRRR)

WARNING! There will be certain themes in this...uhhh read at your own risk. This is for you guys who like getting treated like pure trash...I don’t know just read.

Leggo!

...

“Have you been up all night?” Rina stormed into the library where you were hiding.

“I’m focusing. I’m trying to keep myself busy.” you waved her off, only to have whatever book you were trapped behind taken away from you.

“You are tired, I can see it.” she sighed. “Bed. Now.” she pointed out the door.

“I’ll be fine.” you yawned.

“Bed!″ she huffed. “You can finish what you were doing in the morning!”

“Okay okay!.” you stumbled to your feet and made haste for your room.

You were so tired, but you had spent all day looking for books on how to take care of Carmen (please refer to part 4 for insight). How else were you gonna deal with a pregnant lion. Geez, this was just one big mess.

You stumbled, almost hitting the door.

“Ouch.” you said flatly, even though you weren’t in any real pain. You didn’t even bother to turn on the light, you just walked straight for the bed. It was along more sturdy than you remember and the sheets felt and looked different. Either it was the dark playing games with you or Rina changed your bed sheets.

You plopped on the bed, letting out a long sigh. You didn’t bother to change out of your day clothes. Yes, skirts were way too uncomfortable to sleep in, but you didn’t really care. At least not that this point. Why was this so difficult. Juggling between getting prepared to be a queen to a miserable kingdom it seems like worrying about your pets, you haven’t even heard from your family back home.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” You mumbled aloud. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” you groaned. “Of course I really should naturally know how to do such a thing. “you mused. “...but how can you tame that beast telling you that you’re going crazy and just take the plunge and do what you need to do for the sake of not going completely insane.”

Poor thing, she was suffering. She would be giving birth soon and you weren’t ready! You weren’t sure. You were human and Carmen was...well a giant 400+ pound lion. There was a tad bit of a difference.

You stared at the ceiling only to notice something was off. You sat up in bed as stared at the dimly lit fireplace which was just beginning to go out. The rug wasn’t the same color it was in your room. Instead of flowy ivory curtains in your room, you saw velvety black curtains. You also took the time to notice the white grand piano. You looked up, even the canopy bed looked diff-

Fuck...this wasn’t your room

“Hm...Pray tell...what beast are you exactly trying to tame.” you heard from behind you. You slowly turned your head to see Yoongi glaring at you. “Hm, finally decided to pay me a visit.” You felt his fingers trail up your spine. “About time.”

“Yoongi! I uh-HMM!” You tried to protest as Yoongi slapped his hand over your mouth. You could only hear your own muffle screams. You were suddenly pinned down onto your back. Yoongi’s hand was still over your mouth. He hovered over your body, a smirk painting on his lips. Him dark eyes bore into yours, setting a fire straight to your mind...or core..whichever made you look less helpless.

“You make it really hard to not do something to you.” he chuckled in your ear. “Unlike my other comrades....I don’t hesitate when it comes to striking my prey.” he spoke, right in your ear. His hand, still over your mouth. “Instead, had I gotten my hands on your first, the other boys wouldn’t even be able to recognize you. Imagine being marked and scratched to your heart’s content...how exciting.”

Thrashing wouldn’t do much, he was way stronger than you.

“I’ve been waiting for time to strike.” he chuckled, trailing his fingers under your skirt. “You’ve just opened yourself up to me. ”

“Hmm.” your leg trembled as you felt his knuckles brush against your clothed heat.

“I’m not about that teasing shit.” he huffed. “In fact, teasing pisses me off...oh I’m sorry, were you trying to speak?”

You quickly nodded, which prompted him to slowly removing his hand from your mouth. “I didn’t mean to come in h-here.”

Yoongi didn’t cease his movement, pressing his thumb against your clit. In fact, it chided him to carry on even more.

“Hm....don’t lie to me. You should know the route to get to your room well enough by know.” he chuckled.

“I got really sleepy....I-” you trembled. “Fu-” Your legs trembled beneath his touch.

“You’re foolish. I’m a man Y/N....Do you know what that means?” she cocked an eyebrow. “It means I’m hungry.” he growled. “And since I finally have you all to myself...I’m gonna rip you apart.”

“Rip me apart!?!” you squeaked. “What do you-”

Yoongi watched with a smug grin on his face as you sat up and scrambled to your feet. He partially expected that to happen, it only made him chuckle. Like he said, he was hungry and he finally had his turn to go after his prey.

“Now now...don’t run away from me, pet.” you froze in place. “....Hm..Come here.”

Hearing those words made you freeze. He sounded so authoritative.

“That’s right...come to me. Bring that pretty ass over here.”

You didn’t even notice your feet had started to move. You instantly stopped in your tracks.

“Alright...why don’t I come to you.” Yoongi threw the covered off and stormed up to you, pushing you against the nearest wall. “See what happens when a slave doesn’t listen to her king?”

He grabbed your leg and hooked it around his hip, all while pinning your arms above your head. “Now...let’s play together, pet.”

... (Time Skip)

“NO!” You ran away from Rina. “I REFUSE!”

“Breakfast is ready! If you aren’t at that table in the next ten seconds, then they’re gonna question ME!” she pulled your hand. “Why are you so afraid all of a sudden.”

You didn’t want to face Yoongi. If you were being honest, he scared you the most.

“No reason?” you squeaked. You didn’t want them to blame Rina for your antics. “Let’s just...get this over with.” you grumbled, following her into into the dining hall. You were almost certain you weren’t ready to face them...or him.

Rina practically pushed you into the seat, the only open seat, which was away from the exit...which just so happened to be right next to Yoongi. She gave you a weird look. You didn’t blame her, she really didn’t know about the incident.

“It’s about time you showed up. How bad did it get last night?”

“What?” you looked up in horror at Namjoon’s words. “I beg your pardon!?!”

Was he insinuating what you thought he was insinuating?!?!

“With your pet?...Pregnant Lion? Almost half a ton giant animal?”

“Oh....”you crossed your arms. “She’s fine.”

From the corner of your eye you could see Yoongi who was casually eating. He was acting as if nothing happened! You could only stare at your food, you didn’t dare look up or join in whatever useless conversation the other men were having.

“You seem off today, Y/N....I hope all is well.” Yoongi got your attention.

“...I’m fine.” you clutched the fork in your hand.

“Are you sure....I wouldn’t want you to be...troubled..”

You felt his hand on your thigh, which made you freeze. “If anything is wrong, my schedule is free today.”

You could feel his fingers inch closer and closer. His digits scratching against your clothed heat.

“I’ll be fine!” you instantly jumped to your feet. “Well I can’t keep Carmen waiting, you know...pregnancy...and stuff...” you didn’t say another word before you bolted for the animal stables.

....

Well, Carmen was doing just fine. Her due date was approaching but you were positive one more visit to the library would have you all set, so that’s exactly where you went.

“Come on.” you sighed. “I gotta get Billy out here and soon!”

Billy was your other lion, Carmen’s lion mate or whatever it was called. You were hoping to convince them to let you bring him, poor thing was probably so confused and sad when he saw Carmen on the carriage.

“Hm...” you mused, walking back to the book shelf. “What if I-”

Suddenly you felt something cover your eyes and tighten at the back of your head. “Hey!!” you began thrashing, but your captor had grabbed your wrist before you could move.

“Easy now-” you heard Yoongi snarl in your ear. “You make too much noise and we might get caught.”

“W-what do you want now?!” you tried your best to move. “Are you tying my hands behind my back!??! Hey! Stop that!”

“Since you walked out on me so rudely, yesterday, you’ll have to make up for it.” you felt your bindings get tighter and tighter.

“Make up for-....” you repeated. You felt his breath brush over the back of your neck. “Is this because-”

“You so rudely left me without so much as a goodbye...you must have been really caught off guard.” he chuckled. “You’re free to try to leave...but you can’t leave.” he cooed like he was talking to a baby. “Because you can’t even see.” he chuckled.

“Y-yoongi, listen. I know you’re very hands-on.....”

“I didn’t get a chance to have a taste of you yet, Y/N.....That isn’t fair.” you could hear the fake pout in his voice. You felt his fingers trail down your stomach. Yoongi kissed down your neck, trailing his soft lips up your flesh.

“....I said I went into the wrong room.” you shook in your shoes.

“...Hm....Sure you did, Y/N.” he sighed. “Just be a good girl and do what your king tells you to.” he grabbed the fabric of your skirt, hiking it up. His fingers creeped under your clothes, trailing down your warm skin.

“Hey! That’s not even fair.” your voice wavered.

“Since when did a king ever play fair?”

....

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delicioussshame · 4 years

Text

Last part of the modern AU. Still crack.

Yuan don’t delete this message is the subject of the very suspicious email Shen Yuan just got from what looks like one of those email addresses that are good for five minutes.

Since he’s pretty sure who that’s from, he clicks on it with trepidation.

Inside it are two tickets to Málaga Airport and the following message: You’re coming to my wedding.

Shen Yuan stares at the message for five minutes.

Of course Shen Jiu eloped. Of fucking course he did. Shen Yuan can see it in his mind. Shen Jiu telling their parents he’s getting married. Their mother eagerly asking which heiress caught his eyes. Shen Jiu picking someone unsuitable. Fake tears from his mother, disapproval barely hidden under a thin cover of concern from his father. Shen Jiu having no patience for their antics.

A wedding without them somewhere in the south of Spain.

…At least he got two tickets. “Binghe, we’re going to a wedding.”

_____________

It’s the closest to a fight they ever had.

Luo Binghe outright refuses to let him go. He says it’s too dangerous.

Shen Yuan reminds him that there would be way simpler ways to kill him than invite not only Shen Yuan himself but also Binghe, by the way, to a wedding. Weddings, Binghe! Shen Yuan is sure that Luo Binghe is the kind of sap that cries at weddings.

Luo Binghe tells him he’ll warn his parents, who, after all, are the ones who hired him.

“If you stop me from going, I won’t forgive you.” There. See if a softie like Luo Binghe can resist that.

To top it all, he fixes his expression into his blandest mask.

Luo Binghe tears up.

Shen Yuan refuses to flinch. He’s going to his brother’s wedding. If anything, he needs to know what kind of pretty lady managed to bind Shen Jiu in matrimony. He never thought his brother would give up the family business for love of all things, which it must be. Shen Yuan cannot think of anything less worth giving up his future.

Luo Binghe wouldn’t fall for that reasoning, so… “Shen Jiu is my only brother. He invited me to his wedding. I cannot not be there. If you don’t want to go, I’ll go by myself. Someone from the family should be there.”

Luo Binghe wipes his teary eyes. “A-Yuan really needs to be there?”

Shen Yuan nods.

“To the point of risking his life for it?”

Inwardly, he sighs. He’s not risking his life!

Outwardly, he nods again.

“…Fine. But A-Yuan must stay by my side at all times.”

“…You can’t bring a gun on the plane.”

“I’ll get one once we’re there. I know someone.”

...Shen Jiu better not try to kill him. Can’t hold a wedding if the husband is dead.

_____________

Who the fuck are all these people staring at him with disgust? What’s their problem? Are they just jealous their dates aren’t as hot as his?

What? They’re not.

Not that most of these people aren’t ridiculously attractive. Shen Yuan is starting to get self-conscious. Did Shen Jiu pick his bride from a model agency and these are all her friends?

“You’re Shen Jiu’s brother?”

Shen Yuan turns towards the pissed off looking lady. “Yes. You are?”

“Tell me what’s good about him.”

Shen Yuan blinks. “Why should I?” So rude. She didn’t even introduce herself.

She snorts. “Because I asked.”

“Don’t talk to my boyfriend that way.”

Well, that’s that. Luo Binghe now looks as pissed off as she does.

Great.

“This one too? Seriously, there must be something of worth to your lineage. You can’t just be good in bed, which is my only guess. I’m not going to find that out myself.”

Shen Yuan chokes.

Luo Binghe has his hand where his gun rests under his clothes.

“What I don’t understand is why I agreed to let you come to my wedding.”

“Please, I wouldn’t be here if it was just your wedding.”

Shen Yuan hasn’t seen Shen Jiu in months, but he looks well. That’s nice.

He also shouldn’t be at this pre-wedding reception. “What are you doing here!? Shouldn’t you be preparing for the ceremony?”

“Yes, but I need my best man, so shut up and come with me.”

“What, really?” It is possible Shen Yuan is touched. He never thought Shen Jiu would trust him with anything of value, ever.

“Yes. Come.”

“Don’t kill him!” That comment is intended for Luo Binghe, who is just thrilled at the way Shen Jiu is pulling at Shen Yuan, he can tell.

In the background, he can hear the woman mutters. “Oh, don’t stop yourself on my account.”

_____________

“Wait here, I need to talk to my brother. Who is not going to kill me. Tell him you’re not going to kill me.”

“If I wanted Yuan killed, he would be dead and there would be nothing you could do about it.”

“Brother! Binghe, wait here, okay? I’ll be back.”

Luo Binghe glares, knuckles turning white from his too tight hold on his gun. “You’d better, or your brother’s fiancée will never get to become his wife.”

Shen Jiu slams the door close in his face.

Great. Shen Jiu and Luo Binghe have talked to each other for less than a minute total and they already hate each other’s guts.

Not that that’s not a normal reaction around Shen Jiu. “How did you even manage to get someone to marry you if you always act like this? Who is she anyway?”

“Says you. What would our parents say if they knew you were dating your bodyguard?”

For a second, Shen Yuan really wishes he was a good enough liar to fool his brother. “Nothing. We’re not dating.”

“Please. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“It’s true!”

Shen Jiu stares at him. “It’s a cover story?”

“…Something like that.”

He keeps staring. “Something like that.”

Shen Yuan missed Shen Jiu’s unbelieving disapproval not at all. “Yes, something like that.”

“So are you pining by yourself or are you two fucking?”

Shen Yuan chokes.

“So both. Well done.”

Shen Yuan stares at the door longingly. “Don’t you have to put your clothes on, get your hair styled or something, anything? Because I cannot think of a single reason why I fought with Binghe to come here anymore, and I still have no idea how you got someone to stand you long enough to even begin to consider getting married to you.”

“You’re the one that needs help aesthetically. Don’t worry, I got you something decent for you to wear.”

Shen Yuan sighs. What he’s wearing could easily feed a family of four for weeks, but whatever. Shen Jiu’s standards have always been something else.

“Fine. Do your worst.”

He already knows he’s going to regret it.

_____________

Shen Yuan now gets the uncomprehending stares. He’s known Yue Qingyuan for all of a few hours, and he already knows he’s too nice for his brother. What the fuck happened there? Which of them catfished the other? Did Yue Qingyuan pass himself off as a beautiful woman in an attempt at getting the family fortune, and Shen Jiu was so impressed by his daring he fell in love with him?

…He could see that happening.

Not that he’s gonna ask. Shen Jiu wouldn’t tell him anyway.

Oh well, it was a nice wedding, regardless of the identity of the happy couple.

“Your brother and his husband don’t seem well matched.”

“I know, right? I don’t get it, but whatever, if he’s happy, who cares. I sure hope he’ll be, to get disowned for it.”

Luo Binghe freezes in the middle of removing his shirt for bed. “Disowned?”

Shen Yuan shrugs. “It might not last. My parents will probably get over it at some point. It’s not like they ever thought frail Shen Yuan would inherit. They’ve been grooming Shen Jiu for it all his life. Once they get used to the idea, they’ll rethink their current stance.” He hopes. Maybe if Shen Jiu procreates. Shen Yuan is pretty sure grandchildren could overcome his parents’ disappointment.

“…Would you get disowned if you married someone your family didn’t approve of?”

“Probably, not that it matters. I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

“…Why not?”

He shrugs. “Who would marry me? The women who come looking only want my family’s status and fortune. Now that Shen Jiu is completely out of the picture, I suppose it’ll get worse. I’m fine with my current situation, thanks.”

“…I would marry you.”

Shen Yuan ignores the way his pulse race. Instead, he pats Luo Binghe’s head. “Thank you, but Luo Binghe should marry someone he really loves, not saddle himself with me. He can do better.”

Luo Binghe, for some reason, looks outraged.

What? Did he say something wrong?

“What’s that nonsense? How could I possibly do better than A-Yuan?”

Shen Yuan blinks at him. “Huh, you could just look around yourself? Everyone that was here tonight is better looking than me? They’re not better looking than you, obviously, but still, they’d be a better fit with you.”

“Is A-Yuan blind? Everyone would agree he was the most beautiful person here.”

Shen Yuan knows for a fact that’s a lie. Like Shen Jiu would have allowed for that. “Did you drink? Did someone drug you? Oh god are you okay, how many fingers?”

“I’m fine. I’ve been careful. Four fingers.”

Shen Yuan is sure that Luo Binghe’s definition of being careful was closer to paranoia than anything else. Still. “Are you sure you don’t want to go see a doctor? I’m sure Shen Jiu can find us someone if you need to.”

“The only treatment I need is A-Yuan by my side. Forever would be good.”

Luo Binghe can be so sappy.

Shen Yuan doesn’t need that kind of service. “Seriously, this is nice, don’t get me wrong, but Binghe really does deserve better. He should look for someone to build a family with.”

Maybe Luo Binghe really did ingest something bad. He doesn’t seem well.

“A-Yuan, I don’t understand. I don’t want anyone but you. Why would I? By your side is where I’m happiest.”

Luo Binghe can’t be this foolish? “You know that’s not true. You should pick someone that, I don’t know, I’m not the person for this, all I have as reference are terrible novels, but someone whose smile makes you happy? Someone whose face you’d want to wake up to? Someone you share interests with? Someone you can see yourself grow old with? Not someone who can buy you nice things and that’s it.”

Now he’s really hoping Luo Binghe is drunk out of his ass. That way he won’t remember Shen Yuan lecturing him on what should be obvious.

“…A-Yuan cannot possibly think his only worth is his wealth?”

“Well, no.” Shen Yuan isn’t ugly? He’s just not anywhere near as hot as Luo Binghe. He’s smart? He knows things? He’s available? He’s… other nice things he can’t think of right now. He has qualities!

Just not any he can think of that would make Luo Binghe… love… him. “You could still do better. Binghe has so much going for him! He’s charming, kind, a good cook, intelligent, trained to keep someone safe, outgoing, good in bed, charismatic, fit, patient, I could go on! He should get a nice wife to pamper him.”

Luo Binghe’s smile is stunning. “I have no interest in being pampered by some woman. I’d much prefer to keep pampering A-Yuan, and being pampered by him.”

“That’s just because it’s convenient! We already live together, so maintaining a love life with someone else would be hard for you. Once you’re done with this job, you’ll find me a much less attractive prospect.”

“I don’t want this job to end. No, that’s not it. I don’t mind not being paid to stay with A-Yuan. If I need to, I’ll get a more regular job as a local security consultant or something similar. But I’m not taking another full-time client. I want to stay close to you.”

“But that’s…” Dumb? Ridiculous? A bad life choice? “probably not a good idea. Don’t throw your future away for me.”

“Shen Yuan is my future.”

Well.

That’s… clear.

Huh.

“Wait, when you were saying you loved me, were you being serious?”

“A-Yuan! What else could I have been!”

Shit.

…

“Is A-Yuan not just shy? He doesn’t care about me?”

Oh no. Oh no please don’t start crying now when Shen Yuan can barely get two neurons to work together. “No that’s not it, I care, I just didn’t think Binghe did.”

Well that sounds terrible. “Forget that, that’s not it either, I thought Binghe would finish his job and move on to his next client and that would be it. A nice memory, but nothing more.”

Aannd Binghe is crying. Damn fucking it.

Fuck Shen Jiu and his damned wedding. He hopes his wedding night is terrible. “Binghe, don’t cry, I’m right here, aren’t I? Sorry I’m an idiot, I don’t have much romantic experience. See, that’s why I thought you would go looking elsewhere.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Shen Yuan is patting Luo Binghe’s back and wishing he had the capacity to manage this. “Let’s have a honeymoon too.”

Luo Binghe pushes back to look at him. “What?”

“Let’s go on a trip somewhere nice, just the two of us, somewhere where no one cares who we are. We’ll figure it all out after, okay? Where would you like to go? I think Shen Jiu is going to Bora Bora, but then again I wasn’t really listening so maybe it was somewhere else. Is there something you want to visit?”

Luo Binghe wipes his eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Take your time. We’ll have lots of it, okay?”

“…Okay.”

Who ever thought Shen Yuan of all people had the ability to soothe distressed people? Dealing with his own issues is more than enough, thanks.

He keeps patting Luo Binghe’s back uselessly, keeping track of his irregular breathing until it’s smooth against. “Better?”

“...Yes.”

“Good.”

“…I didn’t know A-Yuan could be this oblivious.”

“That would make two of us.”

Luo Binghe laughs. Such a nice sound. “See? A-Yuan is funny, kind, mindful. I’m lucky to have him.”

Not anywhere near as much as Shen Yuan is. “See that you remember that tomorrow morning when you feel better and realise the consequences of your choices.”

Luo Binghe snorts. “Shen Yuan is the one that needs to remember what he promised. We’re going on vacation. And we’re going to talk. A lot.”

…Shit.

Well, he signed up for it. “I’ll call my travel agent.”

…He still thinks it’ll be a better trip than Shen Jiu’s.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #BingQiu #bodyguard/sugar daddy AU

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

Note

Let me start by saying that I love all of your meta and analysis soooo much especially the ones about Ozpin. I was curious to hear what what do you think are some legit motally grey things/mistakes he did, not the garbage the haters love to throw around. The only things I can think of are either in an impossible situation with only shitty options (where I don't really consider the decisions as immoral since morality needs agency and the chance of a better choice) like with Pyrrha and Oscar (1/2)

Thank you, anon! And honestly? I couldn’t agree more. I often say that Ozpin has made mistakes partly so that people don’t blow off the points I’m trying to make with, “Oh an Ozpin stan. Ignore her, she thinks he can do no wrong and thus can’t provide an objective opinion.” But honestly? Not all mistakes are created equal. There are mistakes one makes because they’re selfish, foolish, didn’t bother to take precautions---things that are preventable and therefore invite heavy criticism and an acknowledgment of responsibility. However, there are also mistakes that, as you say, are simply outside of your control. You don’t have the information available to make an informed and therefore better choice, or you simply just have bad choices from the get-go. For me, the vast majority of Ozpin’s mistakes are the latter.

Overall, I think the largest mistake he bears responsibility for is prioritizing his love for Salem over basic ethics. AKA, choosing to become a wannabe god with her and encouraging this mentality that they are intrinsically superior to everyone else in Remnant. Granted, there are many other factors involved in this, including Salem’s status as a creature now consumed by darkness (she was heading down this road no matter what Ozpin may have done differently) as well as her abuse towards Ozpin, her manipulation, and the sheer overwhelming terror of the goal Light set him. Which just reinforces that all Ozpin’s mistakes are understandable to one extent or another. He’s human and his mistakes resonate because, if people are honest with themselves, they’d probably admit, “Yeah. If I found the love of my life again I’d be tempted to ignore Light’s warning about her too. If I was offered a life of luxury and power under the guise of protecting the people, I might cave and go along with that as well...” We get how Ozpin got to that point, we may admit we couldn’t have done better, but we likewise understand that the man he became, regardless of how he got there---from natural human desires to abuse---isn’t okay. As Oz and his host ask themselves, “What are we doing?” And we see how he comes back from that edge. How he rejects that sort of power later when it’s offered to him after the Kingdoms were reunited. Ozpin learned from his mistakes.

Which adds further complications to his choices in the present day. Just as Ozpin learned that the world doesn’t need him as an all-powerful figurehead, he likewise learned that sharing secrets leads to nothing but the worst kind of consequences. The first time he reveals what he’s hiding? His wife announces that she’s going to take over the world, then murders their children, then him. A more recent time he reveals information? A very close friend betrays him to said wife. Tries to kill him. Nearly kills his allies. Is eventually killed himself. The latest time he was forced to reveal information? People are shouting, grieving, he’s punched into a tree, the one friend still at his side completely rejects him.

The fandom points to Ozpin’s lies and secret keeping among the group as his greatest mistakes and yes, objectively I agree. Without context I can say no, he shouldn’t have made a promise if he didn’t intend to keep it. He should have just told them that there were questions left, or that the relic attracted grimm. But the thing is that context is there and it always matters. I’ve spoken before about how I think Ozpin made that promise with precisely zero expectation that he’d ever be put into a situation where he might conceivably break it, that I’d also hesitate to tell a group that there were invaluable questions left when they were clearly eager to use them recklessly (which they then did), and that keeping the grimm aspect secret was the only logical course of action because telling them would just attract more. But even ignoring all of the potential justifications attached to each choice, I simply don’t believe we can ignore Ozpin’s trauma. I might not have lied to people like that, but I haven’t been horrifically traumatized for a thousand years whenever I do tell someone information. Ozpin has been conditioned not to tell people and though yes, everyone technically has free will, trauma like that will “force” you to take what you perceive as the only safe option. It fucks with your perception and your understanding of what even is an option in this situation. Ozpin simply no longer has the ability to go, “I’ll trust them!” like the others around him do and their reactions certainly didn’t help teach him otherwise. Imagine that for a thousand years you’re punched every time someone lifts their hand. Then someone you’ve just met demands that you stop flinching whenever they raise theirs. No matter how much you may want to stop, you can’t. Not immediately on someone else’s order. The human experience doesn’t work that way.

(As a side note, the reason why I emphasize a thousand years so much is because I believe the extent of the trauma and its implied consistency is really relevant here. As is the close tie between that trauma and Ozpin’s choices. There are many other characters out there who I don’t believe “But they had a hard life!” excuses their actions: Snape, Bakugo, recently what I’ve read of Yennefer---among others. It’s notable to me that Ozpin didn’t endure traumatic events by revealing information and then, say, go abuse his students for years. Or tell someone to kill themselves. Or take over someone else’s mind. Not only is his trauma more extensive than the vast majority of characters we meet, but he hasn’t used that trauma as an excuse to get away with horrific---and unrelated---choices. The love of my life rejected me and then died... so I’m going to abuse eleven-year olds under my care. My mom is demanding and people cater to me too much... so I’m going to gleefully beat up my weakest classmate. I dealt with being ugly for a good chunk of my life and now can’t have kids... so I’m going to take away someone’s autonomy and endanger a whole town. Unlike most other characters with tragic backstories, Ozpin has a one-to-one correlation between that hard life and the mistakes he’s made: people hurt me when I tell them things... so I just won’t tell them things. By keeping that strong connection it eliminates the possibility that Ozpin is just using his trauma as an excuse (knowingly or otherwise) and he is, notably, still a good person beyond those very specific choices. We see his horror at the decisions he has to make. We see his endless attempts to be as kind towards others as possible. We see how much he’s fought not to allow his trauma to warp him into a person he’d despise. A person like Salem. Just like not all mistakes are created equal, for me not all people making mistakes are equal either. I’m less likely to forgive your mistakes if you’re an all around horrible person. You’re clearly a good person trying your best? Your mistakes are easier to stomach and, as discussed above, I’m more inclined to assume that these mistakes stem from things outside of your control. If someone who has been nothing but cruel to me lied I’d automatically be pissed. If someone who has been nothing but kind to me lied, I’m inclined to ask them why they did that, expecting that there’s a good reason attached to that decision.)

So did Ozpin make mistakes? Technically yes, but I think they were mistakes largely outside of his control. Either he only had shit options available to him or he was in a position where the group demanded something of him that his mental health simply wouldn’t allow. People have to remember that we’re not Ozpin (insert obligatory, “He’s fictional” here). We have more options available to us when it comes to our choices, simply by means of not having gone through what he has. His choices are always limited, both by outside factors and his own experiences, and they likewise always have inevitable downsides. Ozpin doesn’t get the luxury of choosing anything that turns out well.

As a final note, with Volume 7 underway I’d say that another potential mistake has been introduced: making Pyrrha the Fall Maiden. Meaning, unless the story reveals that Winter actually can’t become the next Winter Maiden due to her age (unlikely given that others have said the non-canonical age limit is 30), it raises the question of why he’d choose a 17 year old over a 20-some graduate. However, to me this is pretty clearly a writing issue. The creators were more concerned with keeping the story revolved around RWBYJNR than they were the implications of having Ozpin choose Pyrrha over a more suitable adult. So though yes, I’d technically consider that another mistake.... obviously not much Ozpin could do against his own creators lol.

Which finally leads to me saying that although Rooster Teeth seems to want us to believe that Ozpin is a morally gray character, they haven’t succeeded in writing one well. That characterization requires a fair balance between what most would consider “good” and “bad” traits. Not a good person presented with only bad choices. Or a character so horrifically conditioned that his ability to make a better decision is almost impossible. We wouldn’t call a person who was manipulated or forced into doing bad things a morally gray character, nor would we use that term if, somehow, they were sick and that led to those choices. That’s how I view Ozpin, mentally as opposed to physically sick. After a thousand years he needs evidence that trusting people and giving them his secrets won’t result in him being hurt. Until he’s shown that, expecting him to trust people just because they insist they are trustworthy is like asking someone with a broken leg to run you a race. They can try, but good look expecting them to succeed.

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #rwby volume 7 spoilers #long post #mymetas #Anonymous

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