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#I saw so many people assuming theories being shut off
lionheartslowstart · 2 years
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Remnants of Broken Child
I saw a tiktok recently that proposed the idea that our personality traits are really just reflections of our wounded inner child. For example, maybe you’re clingy because your parents divorced when you were young. Or maybe you love to read because your house was always loud growing up and you never had a quiet moment to yourself. I’m not saying those are the only pairings, just a couple of possibilities. And yes, of course genetics play a role in your personality. But if you really think about it, this theory makes sense, doesn’t it? At least for some things.
Despite being a bit disturbing, the tiktok really resonated with me. I started combing through some of my own traits and trying to figure out where they may have come from.
The first thing that popped into my head was the fact that I talk a LOT. People have often (falsely) assumed that I’m not a very observant person because I’m basically always talking, and loudly too, though that’s most likely due to a genetic hearing loss issue. When I was a kid, I always felt unheard. I felt like no one really listened to me, including my family. On top of that, since I had no friends, I was basically quiet all day long, because I had no one to talk to. So now, I just never shut up. I finally have people to talk to, and my inner child demands to be heard.
Something else I thought of is that I can sometimes be extremely vain. Now, there’s a lot that goes into that, but I believe ultimately it stems from being made fun of for my weight when I was a kid. I was relentlessly bullied for being fat (among other things). Boys told me they loved me as a joke. If you follow my blog, you know that my body/weight has been an issue for me since pretty much forever. I believe my vanity is a function of that. I was picked on so much due to my appearance that now, whenever I’m feeling really good about myself, I tend to preen and fuss over myself to an obnoxious degree.
Another, I suppose, more positive thing I’ll mention is my empathy/sympathy when it comes to mental health. I have had people confide all kinds of diagnoses in me, and I have never batted an eye, to the point where some of these people were shocked I didn’t react more. And the truth is just that I don’t feel like a person’s mental illness (or illnesses) is a reflection of who they are. Plus, I just straight up refuse to be judgmental of something someone can’t control. There’s no doubt in my mind that this, I’ll call it “indifferent empathy,” comes from the fact that I was extremely and aggressively misunderstood when I was young due to my severe mental health problems. I was also constantly judged by children and adults alike, very harshly, I might add, because of said mental health problems and the resulting behavioral issues. So now I refuse to be that person to anyone else.
The last trait I’ll mention here is my rebellious streak. I believe this also comes from being labeled a “problem child” and having adults, particularly “authority figures,” treat me as such. I was regularly punished (by teachers, not by parents, just to be clear), scolded, talked down to, told some variation of “you’re bad,” etc. I did go through a phase as a teenager where I was a massive kiss-ass and was all about being teacher’s pet. And I think that stemmed from the same source. I probably felt the need to “prove” myself to authority figures, or something like that. Thankfully I grew out of that though, and came out the other side with a “fuck the man” mentality.
These are just a few traits I thought of off the top of my head, but I’m sure I could think of many, many more. And I will. I believe this theory will come in handy for me. Thinking in these terms, I am now beginning to see some of my qualities, both positive and negative, through the eyes of a traumatized child. And that perspective could potentially help me do a lot of healing. Maybe it will help you too.
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scintillasofbeomgyu · 3 years
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➷ a star called you — chapter 42: “big brain era”
pairing: choi beomgyu x reader. genre(s): fluff, band txt, college au, smau (this chapter is semi). wc: 1,1k. warning(s): food pictured; not proof read, typo in twt too lazy to change. disclaimer: NO i do not support idolxidol shipping! this is just for the purposes of the story. an: i'm gonna pull a cia and dip after this so don't hate me too much 😁
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[06:11 pm] — “so what did you want to talk about?” you asked after shoving your phone into your pocket with a huff. taehyun was like a doting mother, which was rather ironic considering the way he always ruthlessly blunt with no remorse. you’d eventually concluded by the time you got to high school (and after incidental and intense exposure to japanese pop culture) that taehyun was simply, just tsundere.
subin caught the light chuckles slipping from your lips and stole glimpses at you from the corners of his eyes. you seemed comfortable, or atleast that’s what he was hoping for. the look in your eyes when he had arrived to pick you up from the store was still fresh in his mind: surprise mixed with the tiniest bit of anxiousness that you attempted to conceal with a smile. it was a god-sent that his sister made him babysit, otherwise, if he had been alone, he was sure you would have run away.
his hands tightened around the steering wheel and he sighed, “we’ll talk when we get there. it’ll only be a minute.”
you kept your eyes on the passing buildings outside. the sun had just tucked itself beyond the mountains and night fall was quickly decending upon the city. the sinage of the stores lining the street were beginning to flicker on and the pavements were beginning to fill up with those coming from work, from school, and those heading out with or to friends and family.
the temperature was starting to drop, so you rolled up the window and glanced toward yina, subin’s niece, in the backseat. she was fast asleep, features relaxed peacefully, worn out from all the excitment, the sight making you smile fondly. if it weren’t for her, you couldn’t imagine what would have happened. despite reassuring your friends and taehyun that everything was okay and that you were fine, truthfully, being with subin made you feel uneasy.
the car turned, rolling down an incline and into the underground parking lot of a building. when the realization that it could only be Alice that you had arrived at, adrenline pumped through your veins and the edges of your lips tugged into a huge grin. this feeling chases away any worries and concerns plaguing your mind, to make room for but one nearing reality: you were going to see beomgyu.
the minute subin turned off the engine you would have charged for the elevator you’d been eyeing like a bird of prey, if it were not for the fact that he kept the car doors locked. you fiddled with the handle before snapping your head in his direction with a peeved pout.
his laughter echoed off the walls in the parking lot, “we still have to talk, silly.”
“o-oh, right,” you blushed, slowly reclining back to the leather of the seat and hoping it would swallow you whole.
subin prayed the overhead lights didn’t show the begrudging expression forcing it’s way into his face no matter how hard he tried to remain unstirred. did he ever make you feel this way? he didn’t know whether to believe he did or didn’t was better, either theory made him upset.
“i wanted to aplogize,” he started, gulping before he continued, “for what happened in the past. i was really immature. a-and stupid,” he frowned at the steering wheel, his breath becoming unsteady, “i didn’t deserve you— i still don’t. you opened up to me and told me things, things that take alot of courage to share, and i threw all of that back in your face. i was insecure because to me you were someone... perfect. i didn’t think i was good enough and yet i had the audacity to act like i was”
you nodded along as he spoke, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing. he went quiet for a moment, before he turned to face you fully, the leather beneath him squeaking, “i know i don’t have the right to say this, but i still love you. the parts that are the same and those that have changed. through all these years, i guess i didn’t think about it because i just thought i’d never see you again. but when i saw you again... i didn’t want to let you go.”
teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you squeezed your eyes shut and sighed, “subin...”
“i-i’m not finished,” he frowned. he hestitated, then put a hand on your shoulder, “i was a really bad boyfriend, but i didn’t break up with you because of... you. my mom—”
“i know,” you smiled, genuinely, placing a hand over his before removing it from it’s place. you still couldn’t believe you weren’t guilty, “it’s okay. i was really foolish too. you only did what you did because i wasn’t considerate enough of the way you felt.”
subin’s frown deepened and he clenched his fists. he might not have been the only one who made you this way, but the fact that he contributed at all frustrated him.
“yn, no, you—”
“let’s go before we miss him, yeah?” you patted his shoulder before stepping out of the vehicle. subin groaned internally. he felt like he hadn’t made any progress. after running his fingers through his hair a few times, and making sure he didn’t wake yina, he stepped out of the car.
he was in the middle of locking the car, when he found you frozen in your tracks. he arched a brow, walking toward you and tapping your shoulder. you didn’t even flinch. he followed your eyes to the scene infront of the glass doors to the company.
ryujin skipped out with her arm hooked into beomgyu’s and her head resting on his shoulder as they both shook with laughter. a black van pulled up that subin assumed had come to pick her up, and beomgyu pulled away from her, patting her head with a smile. in the middle of their parting conversation, ryujin reached up and brushed some of the hair from his face. subin’s eyes widened and he could feel your shoulders shake.
subin looked back to them just as ryujin got into the van, but she paused, leaning back to look him dead in the eye. she waved, mouthing, thanks for the recommendation.
beomgyu followed ryujin’s eyes and scowled finding subin standing there. he waved goodbye as she left and walked over to him with his hands in his pockets. subin panicked, looking around him, but you vanished.
“fancy seeing you here,” beomgyu squinted into his car and grinned, “new partner? ready to leave yn alone now?”
subin gave his shoulder a hard shove, “keep acting so friendly with other people and you’ll find out.”
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yn and their friends run the campus radio for which yn is the host of the evening show "dear sputnik", where they share stories and hope to create a healing space for all students— even though many don't listen to it. little does yn know, their biggest fan, angel313, is choi beomgyu— the boy they've silently had a crush on for the past four years.
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msookyspooky · 3 years
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Random Headcanon's for the Scream Character's
Billy really was a normal sweet kid and a good boyfriend before his mom left. Everyone paints him as always being crazy and his mom just triggered him but I honestly don't think that's true. Sidney and her parents would not have been okay with her dating a bad boy from Sophomore year onward. Sure it happens and maybe she saw past it but If Sidney would have seen how Billy acted with Randy in the videostore; instant break up imo. He could not have hid that side of himself for two years straight. Remember, they were dating a whole year prior to Maureen cheating. My theory is he may or may not have had a 'side' to him or other undiagnosed disorder in his gene pool (Mrs Loomis snapping too.) but Billy's psychotic breakdown was mostly situational + groomed by Roman and there were other things in his life that probably were boiling over and Debbie leaving him completely broke him. So, he was in an extremely vulnerable state when Roman came around and molded him. THAT is why Sidney trusted him so much in Scream before the phone incident and even somewhat after. Because Billy was a good boyfriend before her mom's murder and she would have never suspected it. Now how her or no one else could see him tumbling into madness or at least deep depression before Roman sank his talons in is beyond me. Maybe she did and he shrugged her off? Either way, the situation made him shut down all empathy towards other people and changed him. His empathy is towards his mom, possibly his dad since Hank never died and that is it. He has symptoms of a psychopath and even though that is usually genetic I 100% think a psychotic breakdown could do it as well.(Don't come for me bitch I'm not trained in any of this just using what I know from research 🧍‍♀️) If his mom never left and Roman didn't come along; Billy would have never been a killer
Contrary to Billy's situational psychological crazyness. Stu was always going to kill. I don't even think it's is he a sociopath vs a psychopath argument as much as he is just disconnected from reality. (Though he would most likely be a Sociopath if he was bc of his lack of boundaries as well impulsive behavior. Thinking killing was a game.) Stu possibly suffered abuse as a child. He was terrified of his parents more than the law. Either A. They abused him and permanently terrified him. Or B. He really has a stunted mentality and thinks of killing as a game and fears his parents more than the law bc the consequences are just not clicking LIKE A KID. He's like a giant little kid with no sense of how things work. He still could have been abused and that is what stunted his growth mentally. However, his violent tendacies were always there. Never preplanned just urgent anger or sadistic glee he couldn't control. Billy just suggested the killings and he was instantly down. Like, hell yeah cool. Most ppl no matter what mental illness they have or how severe are not that easy to convince. Whose to say he hadn't killed before or was planning to? My theory is he is so disconnected from reality that killing really is a giant fun game to him and he would have eventually murdered someone even without Billy.
Idk why this isn't more thought of throughout the fandom. Billy and Stu did not rape Maureen bc the evidence would have pointed to someone other than the guy they were framing. Cotton Weary had sex with Maureen, left, Billy and Stu taunted her on the phone and lured her away, they killed her, police suspected rape bc A. they didn't know about the affairs. B. Cotton's semen or her discharge or bruising being there. They naturally assumed it was rape but in actuality no one raped her. Cotton's dna from their affair incriminated him even more. Not saying that Billy and Stu would think of rape as morally wrong enough not to do in their book BUT it would have been stupid on their part and made it obvious there were other suspects besides Cotton.
Stu isn't a lapdog. Stu literally revealed on the phone he was going to throw Billy under the bus. He hesitated giving him the knife. Stu is like a kid. He most likely suffered trauma that regressed his mental age. He's eager to please, desperate for attention and most likely fawns over people he feels close to in an obsessive way. He could have even been in love with Billy and vice versa which is why he was so eager to please him. However, he was not nearly as stupid or a lapdog as much as the fandom makes him out to be. I think Randy saying it in the videostore sealed the deal for people even though he was only acting like that bc he was helping Billy too and covering their tracks. Billy was the one with the plan. Stu just tagged along out of the urge to kill. But he 100% had his own plan to kill and bail if needed. My mind is made up on that.
There was a third killer in Scream and it wasn't a teen or Roman. You're telling me two 17-18 yr old guys could come up with every detail? Roman only told Billy the basics. How did they get tactical police shoes? How did they get to the houses so fast and leave just as quickly? How did they both take down and restrain Steve or Neil by themselves enough to tie them up? Sure, Stu was deranged and tall but these two lanky teens were able to take on a football player with muscles and a grown man? Possible but stil meh to me. Their plan was too thorough for two teen boys to come up with on their own. Both crazy. One completely unhinged and disconnected from reality and the other so blinded by revenge he was stupid at times. (Fucking stabbing yourselves before killing Neil and Sidney. Not even thinking to AT LEAST tie Sidney up as well...Really? Jill was smarter in 4 in that respect tbh.) I truly think their was an adult involved in Scream helping them or guiding them. I would say Roman if it wasn't for him going back to Hollywood. But Billy and Stu had help DURING the killings 100%.
Randy is not this mecha survival final boy like the fandom thinks. The kid watched one too many horror movies and based them on real life. Scream itself is making fun of slasher movies and Randy was supposed to be the narrator setting most of the dumb rules up into play. Everyone is like "omg that's so out of character how he died in 2" no its not. If the rules work then him losing his virginity did him in. He was drinking, he was pissed off and not thinking. Plus Mrs. Loomis attacked in broad daylight, something no one thought of. (And the whole debate how a middle aged woman could pull him in. LOOK. Randy is a fucking small guy and she grabbed him backwards, using momentum to haul him back into the van. PLUS she was enraged at what he said about Billy. Adrenaline is a hell of a super drug as far as testing the bodies limits. I have seen tiny girls become the hulk when they are pissed I'm jus sayin) Point is, Randy was just a teen boy that loved horror movies. He was not some survival guide especially since it showed him even on the couch not aware of Ghostface behind him. He was a giant satire showing how even he didn't always follow the rules of slasher movies and how dumb the rules are.
Tatum loved Sidney and had more chemistry with her than Billy. I am not saying they weren't just BFF's and I don't want to ruin female friendship with constantly thinking "omg they are gay together" any time two women are close. BUT it is strange that it was only those two as friends especially since Sidney didn't fit into Tatum's popular social circle. It's like Tatum went out of her way to be friends with Sidney. Maybe they were childhood friends and that's why? But I think it's entirely possible that just like it's speculated that Stu and Billy were secretly in love; Tatum possibly was at least bi and in love with Sidney.
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sleep-i-ness · 3 years
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Love Game (James Potter x reader)
Summary: Remus has spilled the beans about you having a crush, and James is determined to find out who it is.
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“So, Remus says you’re in love with someone.” Sirius came up behind you as you sat in the shady corner of the common room, reading quietly. You were out of the way, but still able to keep an eye on everything going on.
“Does he now?” You turned the page, finger tracing the words as you continued to read.
Sirius flipped a chair round, sitting down in front of you and tipping the top of your book down towards him. You finally glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Who is it?”
You gave him a confused look. “Why would I tell you?”
“Because you told Remus?” Sirius stated, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.
“I told Remus because he asked me out just so he’d have a date for Hogsmeade, and I felt bad for not being able to accept.” You returned your gaze to your book, trying to signal that this conversation was over.
“So, what you’re telling me is that I need to ask you out?” Sirius grinned at you and you shook your head, knowing exactly what that smile meant. You’d seen that exact smile 5 minutes before your best dress had been covered in mud, aged 5. And then again before you got caught playing the Muggle sport ‘football’ at age 12. And yet again before you went swimming in the canal and your brothers yelled at you for a solid two hours at age 16. Nothing ever good came of that smile. “Y/N Prewett, would you do me the pleasure of going on a date with me?”
“Well that’s not very romantic. No.” You shook your head, trying to concentrate on the words on the page in front of you. You had reread this line at least 5 times and it still wasn’t making sense.
Sirius sniffled, faking tears, and you glanced up at him, giving him an unimpressed frown. “Why not?”
“Because I’m in love with someone else,” you sighed, feeling a very uncomfortable sense of deja-vu.
“Who is it? Who could this man be, that has stolen your affections away from me?” Anyone who said Sirius Black was a serious bore should see him now; he was being a right dramatic pain in your arse.
“Not telling you,” you replied in a sing-song voice. He snatched your book away and you scowled. “Give it back.”
“Not until you tell me.”
“Don’t be an arse Sirius.”
He gave you a look.
“It is so bloody obvious!” You threw your hands up in the air. “If Remus, Marlene, and Lily were all able to guess, so should you.”
Sirius thought for a second, his eyes lighting up as he finished scanning around the room. “No fucking way. How did I never notice?”
“You’re oblivious.”
“It’s James, right?” He grinned, making eye contact with someone behind you and you hushed him furiously.
“What’s me?”
You froze, sending Sirius a sharp glare. Turning around slowly, you smiled up at him as you shook your head and rolled your eyes. “My least favourite Marauder, apparently. But don’t worry, Sirius has definitely filled that spot because he’s being a right pain in my arse.”
You snatched your book back from him and settled down into your chair, focused on returning to your reading. You just wanted to finish it, for God’s sake. You only had a few more pages left and so many other books to get started on.
James stared at the two of you a moment longer, suspicion brewing in his eyes, before he lowered himself into the chair next to you. You assumed he was going to drop the subject. “So, Remus told us about someone you’ve got your eye on.”
You slammed the book on the table. “Has Remus gone round telling everyone?”
“Probably, it’s Remus,” Sirius sniggered at your exasperated expression; you’d told him to keep his mouth shut but you really should have known better. Remus had never been good at keeping secrets from his family; he always managed to blurt them out, accidentally or not.
“So are you also in love with a Hufflepuff?” James crossed his legs, the silky fabric of his trousers tensing around his thighs and your gaze flickered downwards unwillingly. You blinked, quickly looking away, as a soft flush crept up the back of your neck. Sirius grinned at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and you rolled your eyes at him. The teasing was going to be incessant. Remus had already started making snide comments.
He raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer, and you sighed. “No, surprisingly the only thing Marlene and I don’t share is our taste in men.”
Sirius laughed again and you pulled a face. If he continued being so obvious, James was sure to guess he knew.
“Does Sirius know who it is?” And there it was. The surprise was evident in his tone, his voice tinged with barely audible hurt, and guilt shot through you. Sure, if the man in question had been anyone other than him, he would have been one of the first to know. But you couldn’t afford to affect whatever friendship you had with your silly feelings.
You nodded, sending Sirius a poisonous glare, and placing your hands flat on the table. “Sirius guessed. And I’d say it was pure luck, judging by the way he stumbled on the name.”
“So if I guess, you’ll tell me whether I’m right.” James steepled his fingers together, eyes sparking, and your own widened. If there was one thing you knew and always abided by, it was to never challenge James to a game. Although his competitive nature translated well into his work, you had seen him and Sirius fighting to win, and learnt.
But it would be unfair in his eyes if he didn’t get a shot. You could always lie if he ever guessed correctly. “…Fine.”
He grinned; teeth almost sharklike. This was a bad idea. His eyes darted around the room, appraising every guy slowly before stopping on a pair playing Wizard’s Chess. You stifled a laugh as one got splattered with slime, wiping it off his face with a grimace. “Diggle.”
You shook your head, wrinkling your nose. Diggle was in the year below but only a couple months younger than you; you weren’t into boys who still had the mental maturity to find fart jokes funny. James glanced at Sirius who shrugged in response, at least he wasn’t going to give it away.
“Is it someone close to me?” James asked, fiddling with his watch as he watched for your reaction.
You hesitated, looking to the side as you thought of how best to answer. “I don’t think I said I’d answer your questions.”
He gave you a long hard stare and you met him with equal determination. You weren’t prepared to let yourself be thoroughly embarrassed that easily. James glanced away, slender fingers tapping against the table and your mouth was suddenly dry.
“Podmore.”
“No, however, I need to go talk to Marlene,” you hesitated, fumbling with your excuse. “About my Alchemy essay, so I will see you around.”
You brushed down your skirt, tucking your book under one arm as you waved them goodbye. James looked as if he were about to say something before he hesitated and thought better of it, resorting to a nod instead. Sirius waved you a cheery goodbye, the most evil twinkle dwelling in his eyes, and you returned him a bitter smile.
You managed to avoid James for the rest of the day, darting round corners and forcing Marlene to sit in between the two of you in any shared lessons. But you knew you couldn’t keep this up for long; Lily and Mary had started to give you weird looks.
“Shingleton.” James murmured as he passed you on the way out of Potions, and you shook your head with a grin. At least he was no closer, he was suggesting people from completely the wrong House.
The next time you saw him was dinner, a vacant space left beside him. You narrowed your eyes as he patted it cheerily, waving you over. On the other side of it, a seat up from where he usually sat, was Remus and you shot him a glare, huffing out a breath. Trudging over to James’ side, you slid onto the seat, flinching as your leg brushed against his.
“Toots.”
You scoffed. Of course he didn’t want to just spend time in your wonderful company. “Nice to see you too, James.”
“Come on, please give me a hint.” He sent you a pleading look, eyes big and round, and you couldn’t help but feel a little tempted to tell him. But again, you had enough self-preservation instincts to realise that immediate rejection was not what you were after.
You turned to Remus, giving him a wry smile. “Hello Remus. How kind of you to save me a seat.”
Sirius snorted from his seat across the table, turning it into a cough as you scowled at him.
“You’re welcome. Besides, I’m really enjoying watching James trying to guess,” you raised an eyebrow, “and you squirming.”
There it was. You hated them all; this was absolute torture. You could have, in theory, not sat with them, but you knew James would have made enough of a scene to fully embarrass you either way. Lily, Mary, and Marlene were at the end of the table, where you would usually be, and you sent them longing looks. If only.
Marlene caught your eye and smirked, glancing suggestively between you and James as she wiggled your eyebrows. For Merlin’s sake, of course she was in on this ridiculous match-making plan too.
You sighed. “Remus, I thought when I told you about my crush, you’d keep your mouth shut.”
“They were ragging on me about not ever having a date for Hogsmeade, and apparently we look like we’re dating already so I should ask you out. I told them I already had and that you’d said no because you like someone else,” Remus rattled off what had happened, and you rolled your eyes. Stupid boys and their stupid pride.
“You could’ve just said that I wasn’t interested. And left it that.” You knew why he hadn’t, that was obvious, but it still infuriated you. You’d said it in confidence, feeling a little guilty, but knowing that you were doing the right thing by not leading him on. Now you strongly regretted it.
“Stebbins?” James interjected, having been barely paying attention to the conversation. He’d been too busy scoping out the room for potential crushes, dismissing them for being too ugly, not good enough for you, too dim, too dull, and soon made his way around the room without finding anyone that fit his criteria. So he had to go back round and lower his standards for who you might like, although they clearly weren’t worthy. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much that you liked someone who he thought was miles below your league.
“Nope.” You barely spared him a look, deep in conversation with Remus. For some reason that stung.
The plates in front of you filled with food, but even the delicious meal couldn’t distract you from the bitter mood you’d settled into. You pinched roast chicken between the tongs, ladled peas onto your plate and settled on baby potatoes to make up the rest of your meal. It looked deceptively bland, a white hunk of meat and boring vegetables but you could barely stomach this.
“Gravy?” Sirius offered you the spoon and you shook your head, prodding at your plate. James looked at you weirdly, but you brushed it off as you used the food as an excuse not to talk.
You decided to skip dessert, main course being sufficient to sustain you for the rest of the evening, and headed back to the Common Room. Slughorn had set you yet another essay, this time on the properties of Angel’s Trumpet Draught, so you’d already taken out a couple of the thick tomes in the library that might contain information. The rest you hoped was in your class textbook; you really couldn’t be bothered to trawl through book after book to find enough information to fill the required space.
You set yourself up quite nicely in the corner of the Room, books spread out around you and taking up the whole table. You hoped that was enough of a hint to leave you alone. To add to that, you had your back to the room so that you really looked unapproachable.
Remus was first back from dinner, making a beeline for you as soon as he stepped through the portrait hole. “I’m sorry about dinner.”
You groaned, shaking your head. “It was awful, it was so unbelievably awkward.”
“Yeah, I could tell.” Remus, not taking the hint from your piles of work, settled into the seat next to you. He grimaced. “James is so oblivious.”
Laughing, you nodded in agreement, quickly scribbling out notes on a relevant paragraph before returning your focus to Remus. “Tell me about it. James was just listing off all of these names and I can’t believe he can’t see that he’s the one I like.”
Remus’ eyes darted to something behind you, and you turned round, expecting to see Sirius pulling a face, or something of that kind. He was insufferable in that way. Instead, your heart dropped.
James stared at you, mouth dropped open, making it abundantly clear he’d heard your conversation. Oh Merlin. You swallowed, feeling your eyes prick and heat rise up the back of your neck.
“I’m going to my dorm.” You swept everything off the table into your arms, ignoring how pages bent and parchment crumpled. Side-stepping James neatly, you ducked your head as you passed Sirius and Peter, and headed up to your room. That was mortifying. You couldn’t ever show your face again.
You heard James shout behind you, but you just picked up the pace. You were not going to get rejected in front of your entire House. His shouts grew louder as he caught up with you, but you hopped on the stairs before him, breathing a sigh of relief. As a boy, he wouldn’t be able to reach you; the stairs were charmed to make sure he couldn’t go up them.
Your feet slipped from underneath you. But of course he knew a way around that.
You slid down on your stomach, papers and quills spilling from your grasp. Tumbling into the grasp of two broad arms, you took a moment to reorient yourself before quickly breaking free. James had been the one to catch you and he now helped you up, stacking your sheets untidily.
“Y/N, please don’t run now.”
You blinked, breathing harshly as you pursed your lips. You nodded, feeling eyes on you from all around.
“Go on, scram.” Sirius yelled at the onlookers, who were mostly from younger years, and even if they weren’t, they were scared enough of the Marauders and their tricks to obey instantly.
James grabbed your hands, waiting for everyone to leave, as he rubbed a calloused thumb over your skin. “I heard what you said.”
You smiled waterily, breathing out a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, James, you don’t-”
“Wait,” he interrupted. “Let me talk first. I like you too so will you go on a date to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday?”
“You like me too?”
James almost chuckled at your gobsmacked expression, before realising that probably wasn’t the right response. “Yes, you fool. Have done since about fifth year, if you hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh,” you breathed, speechless. Your lips moved soundlessly as you tried to think of what to say, mind blank with surprise.
James brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, hand moving down to cup your cheek. “The only thing I want to know is if you’ll go on a date with me to Hogsmeade.”
“Yes,” you grinned. “Of course!”
-
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bakugohoex · 3 years
Text
part one: “you want to sleep on the floor”
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pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader
cw: university student y/n, implicit nsfw, fluff and language
word count: 3400+
a/n: this is dedicated to the one anon who was super sweet to me yesterday, all of your support means the world to me and i hope you guys enjoyed this 
summary: in which you’re neighbours with pro hero katsuki bakugo, one night your roommate and her boyfriend get a bit too loud, with no where else to turn you end up in the apartment of bakugo’s, sleeping beside him you both realise the hidden feelings between one another 
part two 
↞ back to my hero academia masterlist
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The bed squeaked and headboard banging against the wall, moans filled the apartment and the sound of ongoing thrusts erupted out of one single room. You hadn’t slept in hours, the sound from your roommates room vibrating against the whole apartment.
What was even worse, was not just having both your rooms side by side, meaning every time the man thrusted back and forth inside of her you could hear her bed hit the wall, no it wasn’t just that, it was the fact this had been going on for hours now.
You saw the digital clock indicate three am, how could one couple go at it for two hours straight, better yet who gets horny at one am and thinks lets having a fuck session whilst their roommate is next door.
Well your friend clearly did, it wasn’t like you wanted to interrupt them, they hadn’t seen each other in a while and deserved something. But at the expense of your sleep, it was a lot more than you had expected. You had prayed they would stop but the moans of his name continued, and it seemed like they would never stop anytime soon.  
You swung your legs off your bed, yawning as the stars filled the sky, you would go to the balcony, probably try and fall asleep outside if it was summer, but it wasn’t. It was fucking winter and you could see the snow form on top of the window ledge. There was always the sofa, you put a hoodie on your body, covering the short shirt and bottoms you wore, dragging your duvet to the sofa.
Staring up at the ceiling, trying to gain some sleep, you hoped the noise of their maniac sex would calm down. But to your luck, the noise seemed to get even more louder, as if they had left the door open. You really did not need to hear the consistent grunting and moaning coming from your friend and her boyfriend. You knew tomorrow morning you wouldn’t be able to face them after the night they were having.
You were cynical, the last time you had sex being months ago. You were touch deprived and even worse the crush on your pro hero neighbour made it worse, when you’d go in the early mornings to the balcony or get your mail, you’d see the man.
He’s be sweaty from some sort of training, his black vest always clinged onto his body perfectly. He was like a renaissance art piece, he deserved to be in a museum. You tried to think about him, to get rid of the sound of your roommate, you had had an encounter with him in the morning. He had come back from an early morning run and you had gone to get the mail. Flicking through it Bakugo called your name to make sure the elevator didn’t go without him.
The pro hero was drenched in sweat and his long-sleeved running shirt clung to all his muscles, the shorts and leggings he wore underneath sticking to his thigh muscles. It was a sight for sore eyes, and you tried to not stare. “Hey Bakugo.”
You spoke politely, he looked down at you flicking through the mail, mainly magazines and other shit. “Y/n.” He spoke coldly, how could you had a crush on such a cold man.
“I saw on the news about the villains you captured, it was cool.” You tried to converse; he raised an eyebrow crossing his arms.
“It was more than cool, I did it single handily, stupid extras didn’t even help.” He smirked as if he was reminiscing in the past nights action.
You looked up at him, his jaw clenched. “Oh well you didn’t need their help in the first place, did you?” You teased a grin on your face.
He saw you step out of the elevator about to answer but instead keeping quiet, you wish you had stopped walking waiting for an answer but your boldness at teasing had made you too flustered to wait. He often was cold to both you and your roommate, mainly your roommate who found the pro hero an irritant. You often saw his friends come back and forth out of his apartment; you were shocked at how his friends were a foil of the man.
He was angry and frustrated and red riot who you assumed was his best friend frequently visited. Your roommate hated the boy due to her theory that he looked down on commoners, you were studying to go into (any career) and you had been working hard. Was she right? Were you really nothing more than commoners needing to be saved.
Your thoughts turned to your roommate and you got out of your daze of the pro hero, you really couldn’t sleep with the grunts. Your best option was to find somewhere else to sleep for the rest of the night, you were glad it was Sunday the next day so you could have a lie in.
You thought of who you could text to ask if you could spend the night, most of your friends being their own university students with their own problems. Your finger lingered over Bakugo’s number before you decided to just straight up ask him if you could sleep on his sofa.
Leaving your duvet in your room, you unlocked the door of your apartment, quickly slipping out. You finally had some peace without having to hear any more vigorous thrusts, did he want to split her in half or something. You rested your head against the door, before pacing outside Bakugo’s door, the number nine on the side. You hesitated knocking, maybe you should’ve texted before knocking at his door at half three in the morning.
It was only by accident and your nerves that you quickly knocked on the door. Maybe he wouldn’t even hear it, it was early morning, and he could be sleeping. About to leave the door, you were met by the man, he was shirtless, only wearing some grey joggers. You were almost about to admire his body, but as he raised his eyebrow a ‘what’ coming from his mouth you started to spew out your thoughts.
“…so yeah, my roommate and her boyfriend have been fucking for nearly three hours now, and I need my sleep so can I like sleep on your sofa or floor” He raised an eyebrow, his arm was leaning against the top of the door, his height making it easy for him to reach. “It’s fine, if you’ve got no room, I can just go back and h…”
“Shut up and get inside.” You were shocked but quickly obliged, walking into his apartment.
It was not what you had expected, the same layout even with two bedrooms. “My spare room has my hero stuff in it, you want to sleep on the floor”
He was grinning at the idea of you sleeping on the floor, “I can sleep anywhere just not in a sex ridden apartment.”
“My bedrooms free.” He spoke, your face reddening.
“Umm…aren’t you s…sleeping there?” You asked not meeting his gaze.
He crossed his arms, his blond hair less spiky from sleeping. “We’re adults Y/n, we can sleep in the same bed.”
You nodded, not speaking out of fear you’d say something wrong. He walked towards the room as you followed in suit, “stay on your side and we should be fine.”
You nodded again, he went on his side, lying down bare in front of you. It was a sight, his room was boiling, you took your hoodie off he looked at you, trying to not see how your shirt rid to show your exposed stomach. He looked away just as your head popped out of the hoodie. You laid on your side, Bakugo’s broad shoulders made your own touch his as he was partially on your side.
“You have a nice apartment.” You complimented knowing the two of you were still awake facing the ceiling.
He huffed, side eyeing you, he watched as your brought the covers around your shoulders. “It’s exactly like yours, minus the horny roommate.”
You laughed at the comment, turning to face his body. You didn’t care if you both weren’t classed as friends, you were going to try and somehow become friends of sorts. “Who wouldn’t love a horny roommate?”
“Me, I need my space and defiantly cant handle being around sex noises, you should’ve shot them with your quirk or something.”
You hadn’t even told him what your quirk was, it was simple and useless in most situations. “I don’t think its possible for me to do that with my quirk.”
He raised an eyebrow still facing the ceiling, his arm had moved behind his back , you could see his arm muscles all on show, “oh yeah what is it then?”
“Guess.” You teased, stretching the word out. Bakugo finally faced you, he saw how your hair framed your face, your eyes looked tired, but you seemed more awake than you had when you had knocked on his door.
“Just tell me, shitty woman.” You pouted at the man.
“You’re no fun, I can create sparks from my fingertips, I know it’s lame, it’s why I’m at university.” Bakugo looked at you, you expected laughing to come from him, you had heard him call most people extras and those without quirks had been mocked by many people. You expected the same at your lame quirk.
“Can you show me?” He wasn’t acting the same, you ignored his calmness, putting your hand from under the cover. You rubbed your fingers together, a spark coming from each finger, it was like a firework sparkler and was painful to touch. But the application of it was never pro hero material.
His hand moved closer to it, “I would…” He did anyway, his finger touching the top, he quickly moved it away after feeling it for less than a second.
“Oww, Y/n what the fuck? It stings.” You laugh, making the sparks go away, grabbing his hand your breath cool air on it. He hadn’t expected this action, feeling your breath on his fingertips, made his ears go red.
“It’s okay now.” He pulled away, not looking at you.
You didn’t say anything, nobody said anything, you could hear the clock tick away, the minutes going past. Maybe Bakugo had gone to sleep, but as you turned back, he had been fixated on the ceiling. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He spoke with frustration on his tongue.
“Oh, I don’t know you seemed out of it.” You spoke turning away from him, you could feel his legs move closer to your own, you didn’t dare think of the actions you wanted him to do to you. Inside trying to think of other stuff.
Bakugo instead broke the silence, “your quirk is decent.” It was some sort of compliment and you would take it.
“Really?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” You laugh at the boy, his own mouth twitched upwards. “At UA, there was a kid who made purple balls from his head, so you’re already one hundred times better than him.”
You supress a laugh at someone having a more useless quirk than you, “was he at least hero type.”
“He was just some extra, but he was below four foot and a pussy.” You couldn’t suppress it any longer, a laugh wavering through the room. “And a perv, he loved looking up girls skirts.”
“For some extra, you did pay attention to him.”
“When you have friends that I have, you hear too much unnecessary information.” You smile turning to face him again.
You thought of the heroes who he worked with, who came intro his apartment, they seemed like nice people to be friends with. “So what you don’t pay attention to your friends?”
“I pay attention to important people.” He turned back to face you, both of you under the covers but Bakugo’s hand had moved on top of the duvet, right on top of your body. You didn’t question the action instead questioning him.
“And who’s important to the great Katsuki Bakugo.” You gave a gleeful look waiting for a response.
He thought it out, before finding the confidence to speak, “you.”
You were dumbfounded, your eyes widening waiting for more context, “me?”
“You study (subject area), you and your roommate go to yoga every Friday night, you babysit who I assume is your nephew once a month, you like drinking coffee on the balcony and you always seem to have cooking magazines in your hand.” You were shocked at how much he had remembered and seen from you.
“You noticed.” You were calm on the outside but freaking the fuck out at how much he acknowledged about you, you had spoke about your studies, and what you normally did when you passed by him, but you never expected him to remember.
“How could I forgot your interests.” You smiled looking down before he spoke again, “oh yeah, and you have a massive crush on me.”
Your cheeks reddened, were you that obvious, “w…what?”
“Y/n, I know when girls have crushes on me, I’m surprised in the months I’ve know you; you have brought back one guy and he was the polar opposite of me.” You remembered the guy you had brought back to have sex with, he was the opposite of Bakugo, from his appearance to personality. “Was he able to fuck you good at least?”
A cocky smirk was placed on the blond’s face, his red eyes were filled with a knowing look, you shook your head feeling his hand press harder on the covers, feeling how his hand rubbed back and forth on your leg from on top. “That’s what I thought, I bet you didn’t even cum.”
“I didn’t.” You blurted out.
“You’re lucky you’re better than the other extra’s, you actually have a chance of getting with me.” You looked at him, his other hand moving towards your face.
“Just getting with you?” You hesitantly spoke, your hand meeting his to stop him.
He realised how he had phrased it and quickly rephrased it, “not just to fuck Y/n, I’m not a man whore who does one-night stands.”
“So you’d want to go on a d…date?” You question, pulling his hand towards your cheek.
“Your words not mine.” He spoke defensively, you smirked wanting to close the gap but being scared to make the first move.
He noticed your eyes move down towards his mouth before he closed the gap. The fast pace of the kiss made you more turned on for him, his hands on your cheeks bringing your closer to his face. You had never been kissed like this before, never felt this thrill inside of you and you craved more. His hand moved to your thighs, making you move on top of him, before you sat on top of his exposed chest, your lips still attached to him.
His hands on your sides bringing you closer under the covers as your hands went to his face, making the kiss’ pace fasten. You moaned his name, an instant turn on at the sound of hearing his first name, he had often seen you reading outside on the balcony, he admired how peaceful you got.
But every day when he saw how calm you looked, he fell more and more in love with his neighbour. He watched how you went through the motions every time you read a new book, it was like you were in your own fantasy and he loved it.
His grip on your sides moved to your ass, he squeezed it, making you moan again, this time allowing his tongue access inside your mouth. You loved the feeling, loved his tongue with your own, he loved how you sat on his perfectly, the way one of your hands had moved to his bare chest, glossing over each muscle. As you both parted, he bit at your bottom lip, tugging to make one last moan come from your mouth.
The sound making his ears tingle in enjoyment before he flipped you over. He craved you but was always going to ask before he moved onto other things. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do.” He spoke his mouth on your stomach moving upwards, he was a predator and you his prey and he wanted to devour you.
“I want to wait.” You spoke breathlessly.
He nodded, “I can still kiss you right?” He stopped kissing right underneath your bra, his hand having lifted your shirt up.
“Yes Bakugo.” You smiled feeling his mouth latch upwards, past your bra and onto your neck. Sucking the spot, his hand on your side as he continued to nibble and bite on your collar.
“It’s Katsuki, baby girl.” The single word sent your insides into to turmoil. A purple bruise formed on your neck, before he captured your lips his own. Your legs wrapped around his back, as you brought your arms round his neck, wanting to limit the gap between the two of you.
“Baby…” You trailed off speaking through the kiss, it was too much excitement as his kiss left you a sloppy mess, you felt like putty in his hands. He let go letting you breath, before lying on his back.
“Come ‘ere.” He grabbed your waist, bringing you closer to his body. “We can finish this after our date tomorrow.”
“Is that a promise.” You smiled boldly, his face going into the crook of your now bare back, his arms around your exposed stomach and lips kissing your shoulder.
He went to your ear, licking the back of your ear before nibbling at the earlobe, “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing out on, and we’ll make your roommate hear it all.”
You smiled in agreement; his arms wrapped around your body. You had not expected this to happen, you had thought you were doomed to be alone, but in the angry boys defence, you never even thought he acknowledged you. But as you laid hearing his soft snores in your ear, you gleamed at how you had got something you had been craving for months now.
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bonus scene 
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You woke up the sound of Bakugo in his kitchen, finding his discarded shirt, you wore it, it was a lot bigger than you, but you hoped Bakugo liked it. You walked into the kitchen, a plate of pancakes on the table. “I mad…” He turned around seeing your cute little face in his shirt. “You really want me to bend you over right now.”
You giggled walking up to him, he grabbed your waist planting a soft kiss on you mouth. It was a lot calmer than last nights, but still had the same love in it. You heard his front door open, but Bakugo’s grasp on your was still tight, you squealed not wanting to be seen, instead Bakugo flipped you around, his body pressed onto your back and his chin resting on your shoulder.
“Oi Bakugo, did you forget we were meeting at the…” He trailed off seeing both of you. “Isn’t that your attractive neighbour.”
Your face reddened, “I said you could use my spare key in emergencies.” The door was still wide open, and you knew Bakugo’s shouting would raise some attention.
“I thought you died.” Kirishima spoke. “I’m Eijiro Kirishima, you’re the neighbour, we’ve all had to hear so much about.”
You smiled at the fact Bakugo spoke about you, it melted your heart. “I’m Y/n Y/l/n.” You smiled, Bakugo’s grip loosening as you went to shake Kirishima’s hand.
“Nice to meet you.” He smiled out.
“What the fuck is all the noise.” You saw the door of your apartment open, you looked at your roommate who looked tired and her hair dishevelled. “Y/n what the fuck are you doing in there?” she looked between Bakugo and you, the way his arm was placed around your waist.
“You didn’t, even after everything I said.” She spoke a loud. “Tell me everything.”
She grabbed your hand, dragging you out. “I’ll see you tonight.” You shouted at Bakugo who watched you walk away.
“Ooo pancakes.” You heard Kirishima gleam out, Bakugo watched you get dragged away. A smile at the fact he had finally gotten what he wanted.
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proceed to part two here 
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visionofhope04 · 3 years
Text
Memories and Dreams
Tim Drake x Reader
Requested: no
Ages: You and Tim are both 18
Prompt: Your dreams are your soulmate’s memories. (You can’t hear anything, you can only see.)
Quick note, I wrote this in April so it might not have my best writing. Also I'm trying to get part 5 of neglected out as soon as I can. Hope you enjoy this!
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You were looking through someone else’s eyes, seeing everything from their perspective. It seemed as if they were chasing down a group of people. They had been chasing them for about 20 minutes now. You hadn’t been able to get a good look at their faces, but you assumed they worked for Black Mask.
Ever since you were 5, your dreams had been your soulmate’s memories. You knew all about them from their parents getting murdered to them being a vigilante. You weren’t sure which one, since you had never seen their appearance but you knew they wore a cape which got in the way of their sight quite often. They were also obsessed with coffee and barely slept.
You assumed he was a boy. He was still chasing the gang when suddenly, they took a wrong turn and ended up at a dead end. The men turned around to face the vigilante. He extended his bo staff and began to fight them all off. During the battle, other vigilantes arrived and aided him in battle. The vigilantes were Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, and finally Robin.
He hadn’t been aware that a thug behind him had their gun aimed at his chest. Just as he turned around, a shot rang out and he dropped to the ground. You instantly shot up and out of bed, panting and covered in a layer of cold sweat. This worried you since it was new. You hoped he was okay and still alive. You weren’t too worried though, because if he died, you wouldn’t be seeing his memories.
Glancing at the clock, you noticed it was 6 am. You usually woke up around that time, so you decided to get ready for the day. You completed your normal routine quickly with half an hour to spare. Deciding to head to school, you exited your apartment. You had lived alone since your parents lived in Metropolis and you had earned a scholarship to Gotham’s top school.
As you were walking to school, you noticed there was a coffee shop. Since you were early, you decided to stop by. You walked inside and waited patiently in line. Once it was your turn, you ordered a black coffee. You had thanked the barista and sat down at a table near the door. You were casually scrolling through your social media and heard someone sit in front of you.
You looked up and saw one of your classmates, Tim Drake. This confused you as he never really bothered to talk to many people. You had interacted with him once or twice and he seemed nice. You thought of him as an acquaintance. He was known as the smartest kid in class. He always knew the answers to every question.
“Oh hi.” You decided to start a conversation.
“Hi, you’re name’s Y/N right?”
“Yeah it is, you’re Tim right?”
“Yeah. So what brings you here?”
“Oh nothing much, it’s just that we have about 20 minutes until we actually have to be at school.” You stated.
“Yeah. I understand. By the way, have you figured out who your soulmate is yet?”
“No, but I do have my suspicions. What about you?”
“I have an idea of who it may be but I’m not sure yet.”
“Well it looks like we’re in the same boat.”
“Haha yeah.”
“Anyways I’m going to head to school now. Feel free to come with.”
“I’m fine. I’ll see you later, bye.”
“Bye.” You threw your drink out and headed to school.
(Time skip to the end of the day brought to you by my hate for school)
School went well as always. You hated school but knew you had to learn somehow. You were heading home as usual until you saw a disregarded newspaper on the floor. It was talking about the vigilantes in Gotham, specifically the Batfamily. Then something clicked. Your soulmate was Red Robin! He used a bo staff, had a cape, and was the only one you didn’t see in your dream.
You were shocked. What would you do now? You can’t just go up to him and be like “Hey, I’m your soulmate so wanna get to know each other?”. If only it was that simple. You came up with some ideas on how to find your soulmate. Idea number one chasing him down which was immediately crossed out since you weren’t about to be desperate.
Idea two was to try and figure out his real identity so you could confront him that way. Idea number three was to just wait. Since waiting would probably be the best option, that’s what you decided to do but also decided that attempting to figure out his identity would help. You were excited to meet your soulmate, you wanted to know everything about him. You weren’t obsessed, you were curious.
As you were walking home, you looked forward to sleeping that night. You hoped whatever memory you were going to be in wasn’t a traumatic one. He had some rather pleasant memories. Others, however, not so much. The worst thing that has happened to you was getting a bad sunburn, while he had evaded death more times than you could recall.
You had finally arrived at your apartment. Placing your bag down and digging through it, you began to complete your mountain of homework and eventually, time started flying by. By the time you had completed all of your homework, it was 12 am. Even though you had missed dinner you weren’t hungry.
You placed all your things back into your bag neatly and shut off your laptop. You made your way to your room and began to prepare for bed. Once you finished, you laid down and got comfortable. You closed your eyes and let the darkness take over.
You were currently in his memory. Your soulmate was in a huge house that was like 10 times the size of your apartment, possibly more. He then ran into Bruce Wayne?! Wait, what? You were bewildered and then everything clicked. Bruce Wayne and his whole adopted family were vigilantes!
How’d you know? Well, every time there was a new addition to the Wayne family, a new Robin showed up either a bit before or after that. They also had the same height. Well, your soulmate isn’t Dick since he already found his soulmate. Jason is a no because your soulmate is short and it’s not Damian because he’s a baby. So that means your soulmate is Tim Drake or rather Red Robin.
Your theory was proven to be correct once his memory had shown him walking into the coffee shop you both met at. You didn’t really know how to feel about it. You did know that you had to tell him though, and you preferred sooner. So that’s how you ended up confronting him at school the next day asking to meet at the coffee shop you both met the previous day.
You were pretty anxious since you weren’t sure how he’d take the news. He could either be okay with it, happy or extremely irritated by it. When you saw him enter the shop your anxiety was amplified. You kept telling yourself to remain calm. He was in front of you, coffee in hand and stared at you.
“Okay so I don’t really know how to say this but I’m your soulmate.” You said quickly. He didn’t seem shocked by this so you assumed he knew as well.
“Yeah, I wanted to tell you too. I found out last night.” He stated.
“Okay so uh want to get to know each other a bit?”
“Sure that sounds nice.”
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love-and-monsters · 3 years
Text
Fake Dating pt. 2
M Faerie X F human reader, 6,405 words
This is a part two to this story. Elwain and his human are safely in the human world, dealing with things far more mundane than an assassination attempt. Both of them are adjusting to the new life and to each other. Very fluffy, with some caretaking. I was in a very romantic mood while writing this and I think you can tell.
Content notes: mentions of parents trying to kill their child, descriptions of minor illness.
“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. Why do humans like this?”
You repressed a snicker. “You’re watching it.”
Elwain didn’t even look away from the screen to reply. “You put it on.”
“I just turned on the TV. You’re the one who started watching.” Elwain made a noncommittal noise. You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile. “I can change the channel, if you want. There’s a documentary on that I wanted to-”
“No, this is fine,” Elwain said. He hopped onto the couch next to you and curled up. “Ugh. These people know that expensive doesn’t mean good, right?”
You covered your mouth with a hand. Elwain actually, legitimately enjoying trashy reality shows was by far the best thing you’d learned about his personality since you’d started living together. The worst thing was probably that he’d grown up with servants and had no comprehension of household chores. It had taken a few weeks to get him to put his food back in the refrigerator when he was done with it, and you weren’t sure he was ever going to get the hang of doing dishes. Still. He was getting better.
“You’re still going to need to vacuum later tonight,” you reminded him. Elwain groaned.
“I spent all day at work!” he said. “I should get a day off.”
“You only had a five hour shift today. I worked seven. Plus, I have school. You don’t get breaks on household chores. Doesn’t matter how much you worked, they still have to be done.” Elwain looked away sulkily. That was an expression you were getting uncomfortably familiar with. “And you’re not allowed to do magic for it, either.”
“What? Just because you can’t use magic, there is no reason for me to be forbidden!” Elwain said.
“Yeah, sure. You remember what happened last time you used magic to clean the apartment?” Bright pink spots appeared on Elwain’s cheeks. He glared down at the couch, expression screwed up in irritation.
“I fixed that.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. You fixed the apartment. What you’re never going to fix is my trauma from walking into my apartment and finding everything covered in spiders!”
“I apologized!”
“Look, the next time you decide to enchant a bunch of bugs into doing household chores, just. Don’t.”
Elwain huffed. “They weren’t even venomous to humans! All of you are so easily frightened. They weren’t going to hurt you.”
“I think the heart attack I had upon entering my own apartment could be considered as hurting me,” you muttered. Elwain looked sour, but didn’t respond, apparently returning to his TV show. Elwain’s adjustment to the human world had been… difficult. He had no real understanding of conventional social norms and obviously still expected everyone to treat him like a noble, despite working a minimum wage job at a fast-food restaurant. Not to mention that he seemed to have very loose morals when it came to enchanting mortals. As far as you were aware, he’d never done it to you, but he didn’t seem to have any sort of restraint when it came to anyone else. Before he’d gotten his job in customer service, he’d made all of his money by charming random people off the street into handing over their wallets.
Admittedly, his skills had come in handy. You didn’t feel particularly good about it, but he had charmed the landlord into giving you the apartment for significantly less than the going rate. In your defense, there hadn’t been many options. You couldn’t stay in your parent’s house with a Fae hanging around, and even with both of you working, there was no way to afford an apartment otherwise.
It did not help that Elwain apparently found your moral crisis very funny.
“You all live by such dumb rules all the time. If you really wanted, I could probably charm someone into giving us their house, or just letting us stay there.”
“That feels morally dubious,” you said.
“Ugh. You won’t let me steal anything, you won’t let me charm people into letting us use their things without stealing them, you won’t even let me charm people into handing some things over!” Elwain flopped across the couch. “So now we’re living in a garbage apartment and I have to work at a greasy food place where customers yell all the time and-”
“It’s a nice apartment, especially considering what we’re paying for it,” you interrupted. “And if you use magic too often, people might start figuring out that something weird is going on.”
“I doubt it. Mortals are stupid.” But Elwain didn’t protest, and went to his job as usual, and didn’t steal, which was more respect for your rules than you were worried he’d show. And, really, you were glad you’d instated the ‘no magic’ rule at large, given how unpredictable the results could be.
Elwain sprawled across the couch. He had a tendency to take up ridiculous amounts of space, pushing you to the edges of the couch to avoid contact. Eventually, you got up.
“Where are you going?” Elwain asked as you walked out of the room.
“I’m going to study for a bit before bed,” you called back. “Enjoy your show.”
He stared after you until your door clicked shut. Weird. He’d seemed almost annoyed about you leaving, even though it meant he could watch his shows for longer and you would stop bugging him about vacuuming. Whatever. He’d been acting weird recently, though. Maybe you should talk to him about it. He’d seemed fine for the first month or so after leaving his home and his parents trying to kill him, but maybe he was having some sort of delayed reaction.
You buried yourself in your textbooks for the next few hours, trying to get a solid start on one of your papers. The back of your mind seemed to be focused on the little noises in the apartment, though. Every sound of footsteps or things being moved pulled your attention back to the rest of the house. Eventually, you heard the sound of the vacuum running for a while before Elwain headed into his room.
He never went back into the main area of your apartment and, buried in work, you were soon thoroughly distracted. Gradually, as you worked, your mind grew less and less focused until you were face down in your books, dead asleep.
“Wake up!”
You bolted upright. There was a piece of paper sticking to your cheek from a stream of drool. You hurriedly pulled it off. “What? What’s going on?” You blinked, focusing on Elwain’s fine face in front of you. “What are you doing in my room?”
“Your alarm was going off. I can’t believe you didn’t hear it. It woke me up.” Sure enough, your phone, which was still sitting across the room from you, on its charger, was ringing furiously. You weren’t surprised that you hadn’t noticed it, though. Your head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton.
“Oh. Sorry.” You rose a little unsteadily and turned the alarm off. “Thanks for waking me. Probably would have slept right through it if you hadn’t.”
“Uh huh,” Elwain said. “Did someone curse you?”
You blinked at him. He seemed dead serious. “Uh, no. I doubt it. Unless you know something I don’t.”
“If you’re asking about my parents, I would assume they are no longer concerned about me,” Elwain said. His voice was clipped, like it always was when he talked about his parents. “I don’t think they would bother to curse a mortal. If they had the means to lay a curse on someone, it would be far easier and more effective to just curse me.” He paused. “I was only asking because you look terrible.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled.
“You do. Why didn’t you sleep in your actual bed last night?” he asked.
“Because I fell asleep at my desk by accident. Are you going to stand here and just insult me or-” You broke off into a round of thick, hacking coughs. Elwain took a step back, alarm crossing his face.
“What is happening to you?” He lifted his arms in front of him, like he was trying to ward off some kind of evil spirit.
“It’s a cough,” you said. “Have you never seen a cough before?”
Elwain lowered his arms, still looking at me like he thought you would start convulsing at any moment. “Fae don’t do that.”
“They don’t cough?” You rubbed at your chest. A significant amount of phlegm had settled there. God, your body really had to pick the worst time to get sick.
“Not like that,” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”
“I’m sick,” you told him.
He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of that. A mortal thing. Your forms are weak, so you occasionally fall ill. It is a sign of your small, failing lifespans.”
You considered correcting him, but decided that you had better ways to spend your morning than trying to explain germ theory to a Faerie. “Yeah. Sure. Well. I’m sick. So that’s why I’m coughing. It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.”
Elwain narrowed his eyes. “Hmph. Well. I have work. Don’t die while I’m out.”
“I’m not in any danger of dying,” you told him. “Go head to work. Have fun.”
“That’s unlikely,” he muttered, but he left your room without protest. You closed your door after him and set about getting ready for your day.
The cold had settled into your head and chest and you could tell it was going to be bad already, even before it had come on fully. God. You could not afford to get sick.
Elwain was eating breakfast when you shuffled into the kitchen. You’d needed to absolutely cake your face in makeup to look presentable, and you saw his brows rise as he looked at you. Fortunately, the Fae at least knew how to keep their mouths shut. He just looked back at the frozen waffles he was toasting.
You snagged a granola bar and headed for the door. “Have a good day at work!” you called over your shoulder. Elwain grunted in response. The door swung shut behind you.
Work was exhausting, as per usual. It was better than Elwain’s job by a long shot, since you were working in a local candy store run by a sweet older couple, but between keeping an eye on any batches of candy being produced, sorting out customers, and having to deal with the requisite child-throwing-a-fit-for-not-getting-sweets, it was tiring. Trying to look bright and perky while being weighted down with a cold was awful.
As soon as work was off, you had class. Dragging yourself through it was a slow, painful slog. By the end, your head was fuzzy and you felt dead on your feet. Slowly, you hauled yourself on the bus and fell asleep.
Naturally, you missed your stop.
About an hour after you were supposed to be home, you dragged yourself in through the door. Elwain practically slammed into you. His hands clapped on either side of his face and he peered intently at you. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you! I thought you were dead!”
You pushed him off you and bent to one side to cough heavily until you were nearly sagging to the floor. Elwain stared at you. “Sorry,” you rasped when you’d stopped. “I fell asleep. And then my phone was on low battery and I wanted to make sure I had enough battery to use my GPS to get home.”
“You couldn’t have texted me?” Elwain drew himself up, hands on his hips. The entire situation reminded you, ridiculously, of your mom when you came home after a night out. “I was worried! I didn’t know where you were, and mortals are so ridiculously fragile-”
“Aw, you’d have been fine,” you said. “If anything, you’d be able to do more without my stupid mortal morals.”
Elwain’s expression went strange for a moment. “Are you feeling well? You seem… off.”
“I’m not feeling well. I’d like to lie down, actually.” You coughed again. “That okay with you?” Elwain was still frowning, but he stepped aside, allowing you down the hall and into your room.
You went down into your bed face-first. Almost as soon as you hit the pillows, your mind faded into sleep. Sleep came to you in fitful waves. You kept waking, coughing, rolling over and falling asleep again. When your alarm pulled you back to full consciousness, you felt thoroughly awful. The cold had settled firmly into your chest and head, gumming everything up. Your chest rasped every time you breathed in, prompting heavy coughing fits, you shivered even when you were wrapped in blankets, and your head felt full, achy, and cloudy.
The cold had apparently decided to upgrade to a full-blown illness. Slowly, you shoved yourself upright. It was hard to breathe through your nose and your mouth. Your throat stung with every inhale. Every cell of your body just wanted to pop some of the cold medicine that made you sleep and hopefully you’d wake up when it was all over.
Just as you were standing up, someone knocked on your door.
Well, you knew who. There was only one person who it could be. Grimacing, you walked over to the door and pulled it open. “Elwain. What?”
He stared at you. “I was- are you okay?”
“I’m sick. You remember the discussion was had yesterday?” you said. “Anyway. You needed something?”
Elwain looked you over. You hadn’t looking into a mirror, but given his expression, you probably looked terrible. He seemed to think you were five seconds from crumbling into a pile of ash, like a vampire exposed to sunlight. “Do I need to call 911?” he asked.
“Uh, no. It’s a cold. I don’t need an ambulance. I need to sleep for a while. Why are you knocking on my door?” you asked. Elwain’s mouth moved wordlessly. Whatever he had wanted to talk to you about, it seemed to have been completely derailed.
“I… er.” Elwain’s gaze flicked over you again. “Well. I wanted to see how you were doing. You went to bed right after you got home last night and I never saw you again. And you seem to be doing… poorly.”
“Yeah. I’m not doing great. I really just want to go back to bed.” You rubbed your hand over your head. “I feel like shit.”
Elwain hesitated. “Do you need me to do something?”
“Just go about your day. I’ll try to keep my gross self out of your way.” You slouched across your room to your bed. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to try to get a little more sleep.”
Elwain lingered in the doorway for a few moments longer. Finally, he turned and headed into the kitchen. The door remained open behind him, and you couldn’t be bothered to get up and close it again. Instead, you buried your head in your pillow. Sleep claimed you again within moments.
Less than an hour later, your alarm went off again. You slapped at it balefully until it shut off. Somehow, it felt like you gotten negative sleep, like sleeping had made you even more tired. Slowly, painfully, you pushed yourself upright. Shivers wracked your frame. How had sleep made everything worse?
You threw on the first clothes that you could get your hands on and shuffled into the kitchen. Elwain looked up from his breakfast. His mouth opened slightly. “Good lord. Maybe you have been cursed.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I don’t look that bad.” You did, but you’d slathered enough makeup on your face to cover most of it. Then again, maybe that wasn’t enough to hide from Fae eyes.
“You look like a walking corpse,” Elwain said. You collapsed in the seat next to him and coughed into your fist. The force of the motion made your head throb. Elwain curled his lips back from his teeth in a grimace. “Are you certain you don’t need me to call 911?”
“No. It’s a cold. I’m-” You dissolved into a fit of coughing so severe it was difficult to catch your breath. Elwain stared at you, eyes wide. “I’m fine,” you croaked.
Elwain narrowed his eyes, but returned to his phone. You didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, because he certainly hadn’t purchased it, but you’d decided you weren’t going to ask. You ate slowly, mostly because your stomach felt tender, and you couldn’t finish even half of your normal portion. After a while of picking at your food, you dumped your dishes in the sink and started gathering your items to head out.
“Where are you going?” You startled. Elwain had appeared at your shoulder, completely silent. You might have chalked up not noticing him to your cold-dulled senses, but he could sneak up on you no matter how well you were feeling.
“Work,” you said.
Elwain looked back down at his phone. “You are not supposed to leave the house if you’re sick.”
“It’s a cold. I’ll be fine,” you said.
Elwain kept looking at his phone. “If you are sick, you are supposed to stay home, both so you can avoid infecting others and so you can recover.”
“Are you reading that off a website? Where are you reading that from?” You tried to grab his phone, but he gracefully slipped out of your reach.
“I searched about human illnesses on the internet,” he said. “Your symptoms are consistent with the common cold, but they are also consistent with pneumonia. It says you should sleep and drink water until you are recovered.”
“Look,” you said. “I’m fine. It’s a cold. I’ve had them before. I will have them after this one. I know how to handle them. I’ll pop some cold medicine and I’ll be fine.” Elwain stared at you. His expression was hard to read. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll live.” You sniffed and blotted at your face with a tissue. “I’m going to leave now. I’ll see you later.”
You swept out the door, giving Elwain a wave. He stared after you, not moving until you slammed the door shut.
It was a long, slow, awful day. You could barely keep your head together. By the time you got home, your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and your mind was swimming.
You dragged yourself through the door. Your body felt like you were wrapped in a massive, thick blanket. Everything was warm and it was hard to move, like everything was stiff.
Elwain stared at you as you pulled yourself into the kitchen. “You look like death warmed over.”
“Fine,” you mumbled. “’m fine.” You slouched over the counter and leaned against it. Elwain stood, stepping closer to you. “I’m good. I… I’m good. Just… Tired. Tired. Need to nap.”
“Perhaps you should nap in your room,” Elwain said. “Not on the counter.”
“I’m fine here.” Your words were getting mushy. Why weren’t your lips moving correctly? “I’m good. I just, um. Need. Something…”
“It’s okay. You’re okay. Here, hold onto me. I’ll-” Elwian’s hands were on your waist, on your back. You felt boneless, mushy. Your limbs weren’t moving the way you wanted them to. The only thing you could feel were Elwain’s hands supporting you. Was he carrying you? Maybe. You felt like you were floating. Your head was disconnected from your body, floating. Someone was speaking to you from far away, a soothing voice. It was so soothing. Maybe you could just sleep for a bit. Just sleep. It would be nice to just sleep.
Dimly, you came back to yourself. You blinked your eyes open. The ceiling was unfamiliar, at least as ceilings went. Not that you were familiar with many ceilings, really. Looking down at yourself revealed why the ceiling was so unfamiliar. The bed was covered in heavy, dark blue sheets. Elwain’s sheets. You were in his bed.
Slowly, you pushed yourself upright. You still felt bad, but less bad than you had been feeling. A raking cough escaped your chest, thick with phlegm.
“You’re up!” Elwain appeared in the doorway. He looked… frazzled? You weren’t sure the Fae could look as frazzled and unkempt as a human could, but he didn’t look as ethereally beautiful as he usually did. He looked sort of ruffled. “I was considering dragging you to the hospital, but the internet said that maybe ginger tea would actually be better, so I got you some of that.” He indicated the cup in his hands.
“You have got to stop getting all your information from the internet. Or at least I need to give you a media literacy course on identifying good sources,” you croaked. Your voice sounded bad, but it no longer hurt to speak. It just felt uncomfortable.
Elwain gave you a bewildered look and held the cup out toward you. “Drink it.” You took it obligingly and took a sip. Elwain must have dumped half a bottle of honey in it, because it was so sweet you almost couldn’t taste the ginger. You swallowed it carefully.
“Thank you,” you said when you’d finished the cup. “What, uh. What exactly happened to me?”
Elwain sat on the end of your bed. He was wearing his old cloak, the one he’d taken with him when he’d fled from Faerie. He tucked it tighter around him, fingers fidgeting at the hem. “I was hoping you could inform me of that, actually. I was quite frightened when you collapsed like that.”
“Oh, yeah,” you said. Vaguely, you remembered passing out. “How long was I out?”
Elwain glanced at the clock. “Mn. Less than an hour? You were in and out for the first ten minutes, mumbling a lot.” You had vague memories of Elwain leaning over you, expression panicked. Must have been from then. “Once I got you into bed, you fell asleep. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you or not.”
“It is,” you said. “Probably a good idea to let me sleep. Though if I ever do collapse again, please call 911.” You considered. “Well, I guess don’t call 911 unless I’m actually dying. I can’t afford the ambulance.”
Elwain nodded, even though he looked politely confused. “Is your illness getting worse?”
“Maybe,” you said. “It’s hard to tell. I think I have a fever now, so that sucks.”
With absolutely no warning, Elwain leaned forward. His face was abruptly so close to yours, close enough to feel his cool breath tickling your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck lifted. Suddenly the only thoughts in your head had to do with his lips pressing to yours, his cool mouth meandering along your skin-
His forehead touched yours. His eyes closed, a little furrow appearing in his brow. “You’re warm,” he said. “Very warm.” He sat back.
You blinked. “Uh. You can do that with your hand, you know.”
“Oh? I saw the forehead one on the internet,” Elwain said, but he reached up and cradled your face in his hands. With a soft, delicate touch, the back of his hand brushed against your forehead and down your cheek. The touch made something in your chest tighten and your breath catch. “You still feel warm.”
You moved your mouth, trying to get your brain back in gear. “Uh, yeah. Fever! That’s, uh. Bad. I need, um. You remember that pill bottle in the bathroom I showed you? The one with the little red pills?” Elwain nodded. “Get those and a glass of water. They’ll bring the fever down.”
Elwain vanished for a moment and returned with a tall glass water and the bottle of pills. He watched as you downed them and sank back into bed. His sheets were softer than yours, his bed even more luxuriously plush. You weren’t sure where he’d gotten the sheets from, or if maybe they were the sheets you’d bought him, just augmented with magic. “Why did you put me in your bed, anyway?” you asked. “My bed’s not that much further away.”
“I wanted to keep an eye on you,” Elwain said. “And you do not like me coming in your room.”
“I don’t like you just walking into my room whenever you feel like it, but you can come into my room,” you said. But you were pretty glad he’d put you in his bed. Everything in his room smelled faintly floral and herbal, a smell that relaxed you. Everything was cozy.
“I am not familiar with how to deal with sick mortals,” Elwain said. “Do you need anything else?”
“No. I just need to rest.” You paused, looking toward the window. “I should probably head back to my own room, actually. You’ll probably want to sleep here tonight, right?”
Elwain shook his head. “Stay. You need to rest. I will sleep elsewhere.” He swept out of the room, cloak fluttering behind him. You stared after him for a moment before sinking back into bed. Despite just waking up, your head was already muddy again. Maybe Elwain had gotten you the pills with the sleeping medicine in them. Your eyes closed. Within moments, you were drifting away, fast asleep.
You dreamed of strange things, of hands on your face, cupping your cheek, of soft lips pressed to your neck, of kind eyes and strong arms carrying you around. When you opened your eyes to see the same kind eyes staring down at you, you were half-convinced you were still dreaming.
“Hello,” Elwain said. “You have been asleep for a while.”
You blinked. Your body did have that foggy heaviness that came when you’d been sleeping deeply. Even your discomfort from the illness seemed far away and dim. “Elwain.”
“Yes. I’m right here.” He said it more gently than a simple statement of fact, almost like a reassurance.
“How long was I out?” There was bright sunlight streaming in through the window and across the bed. You lifted a hand to clumsily shield your eyes.
“Over twelve hours. I thought you should probably sleep. That’s what the internet said.”
“Oh, man, we are going to need to get you some better resources than just ‘the internet,’” you said. “But you were right. Thanks for letting me sleep.” Slowly, you shoved yourself up into a sitting position. “What’s that?”
Elwain held a bowl out to you. “I was told that soup was good for mortal illnesses.”
You took the bowl of vegetable broth. Elwain’s cooking was usually pretty hit or miss- he could follow recipes just fine, but he also had a habit of deciding that he had a better idea than the recipe and going completely off the rails. The soup just seemed to be broth, though. You took a cautious sip. It was watery, but tolerable.
“Are you feeling better?” Elwain asked. You nodded, glancing over at the clock.
“It’s past nine,” you noticed. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“I called in sick. I wanted to stay home to make sure you were all right.” Elwain looked completely serious.
“It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”
Elwain’s eyes narrowed. “You collapsed.”
“Well, yeah, but…” You trailed off. There wasn’t much you could say in response to that. “Fine. But if you get fired for this, I’m going to be pissed.”
“I will not be fired. My boss loves me.” Elwain gave a superior little sniff, nose stuck up in the air. You laughed into your bowl of broth.
When you were finished, Elwain took your bowl back into the kitchen, returning only a few moments later. “Do you need anything else?”
“I think I’m okay,” you said. “You really didn’t have to stay home to take care of me. There’s not going to be a lot to do. I think I’m mostly going to sleep.”
“Regardless. I think it is better to be safe.” Elwain looked at you from the doorway for a moment longer. “I need you.”
He left the doorway. You could hear his footsteps retreating into your apartment, perfectly steady, like what he said hadn’t made your chest tighten intensely. You sank back into his bed. His scent wreathed around you, gentle and reassuring. Oh, god. Warm feelings were fluttering up in your stomach, swelling through chest and trembling in your lungs. Worse than that, they felt familiar. How long had these feelings been lingering in the background of your mind? And now they had surfaced and you didn’t know what to do with them. Naturally, you would have some kind of emotional crisis when you were sick.
You faded in and out of dreams where Elwain’s scent wreathed around you and his gentle hands stroked your forehead and cheeks. You woke up feeling oddly melancholy.
The sounds of the TV drifted through the open door. Shaking some feeling back into your heavy limbs, you hauled a blanket over your shoulders and headed into the living room.
Elwain was draped over the couch, staring at the TV. There was some soap opera on with a woman and a man hysterically throwing themselves at each other. Elwain looked up as you padded into the room. “Is it okay for you to be out of bed?” he asked.
“Yeah. I feel better, actually.” The sleep had helped quite a bit. You still felt foggy, but the pain in your head and chest had faded. Elwain sat up, drawing his limbs in closer to himself so you could sit next to him.
“You look less… corpse-like,” he said. Before you realized what he was doing, he took hold of your face in both hands and pulled you closer to him. “You are still warm.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m getting better.” You reached up and carefully pried his fingers off your face. You were overly aware of how your fingers lingered together. “How’s your day off going?”
“Human TV is still strange,” Elwain said, turning back toward the screen. “I can’t imagine any humans really behave like this. I have never seen it.”
“No, it’s a soap opera. It’s supposed to be deliberately over-the-top and crazy. That’s why they’re fun to watch.” Elwain rolled his eyes, but there was amusement in his expression.
“Is there anything you want to watch?” he asked.
“No, this is fine.” You settled into the soft cushions, staring at the TV. As much as you were looking in the direction of the TV, most of your attention was focused on Elwain. His gaze kept flicking toward you, as if he was unable to focus on the show either. After a moment, he reached out toward you.
One of his hands settled on your head, the other on your shoulder. Before you realized what had happened, he pushed you so your head was resting in his lap. You stared up at him as he, apparently unconcerned, started weaving his fingers through your hair.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“You did this for me when I first came here,” Elwain said. “It was soothing. I thought you might like it as well.” He paused. “Was I incorrect?”
You considered for a moment. His fingers were still carding through your hair, twining strands around his fingers. “No. I don’t mind.”
Elwain continued to stroke your hair. His nails scratched lightly at your scalp. The feeling of being touched made something tremulous swell in your chest. It was a pleasant feeling, but one so sharp and overwhelming that it almost made you cry.
You lay with Elwain for a while, his hands absently playing with your hair and trailing along your head and neck. He seemed to be paying far more attention to you than to the TV. “You should take better care of yourself,” he said, stroking your bangs back from your forehead. “If you were to die, I would be alone in the mortal world.”
“You’d manage,” you said.
“Perhaps.” Elwain removed his hands from your hair and hesitated for a moment. He seemed to be struggling to speak. Then he sighed. “But I would prefer it if you were with me.”
You looked up at him. He was staring deliberately to one side. There was a faint pinkish color to his cheeks and his eyes were narrowed. “You could have left, once our deal was up. I only asked you to stay with me for the night. And yet, you helped me. There was no reason to. I no longer have my connections or any particular Faerie skills. Even the few powers that remain with me, you don’t like me using. You have gained nothing from this deal and you help me regardless.”
“Of course, I did.” Thinking about that night only brought one image to your mind. Elwain, who had nearly been killed by his own parents, looking lost and confused and abandoned. He had been cocky before, but in that moment, he had just looked forlorn and upset. He had just looked scared. “I wasn’t going to just leave you on your own.”
“You could have,” Elwain pressed on. “Easily, you could have. You could have justified it, even by mortal morals. There’s not a lot here that could kill me. As you have pointed out, I would be fairly fine on my own. But you stayed with me regardless, for no other reason than just helping me.”
“You’d just almost been assassinated. I couldn’t leave you,” you said.
“You could have. But you didn’t. And, at least so far, you have asked for nothing from me in return. To be quite honest, you’ve been almost annoying with how little you allow me to do.”
“I try,” you said. Elwain snorted. It was an inelegant noise, but somehow also incredibly attractive. “Where are you going with this?”
“I’m trying to explain to you that I care about you. I want you to be well and safe and healthy because you saved me and you didn’t have to and I appreciate it.” Elwain’s cheeks flamed red. “That’s what I’m trying to say.”
You reached up slowly and let your hand cradle the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing. “It’s strange. I’m not used to this,” he said. “My parents loved me as far as they could use me. It’s how Faeries are. But you have used me for nothing, gained precious little advantage from having a Faerie living with you. And I wasn’t used to it. I still think I’m not used to it. But I am so… so… happy. For this. For you.” He blinked his eyes open. They were hazy with emotion. “Thank you.”
It was an impulse maybe you could have resisted if you were feeling better, but you were overwhelmed with feeling and not in the mood to fight with yourself. The hand on his cheek shifted position toward the back of his neck and pulled him down on top of you. His mouth pressed into yours, tense and unyielding, then softening as he realized what was happening.
There was a moment of fumbling, while Elwain registered that you were kissing. You broke away from his mouth, but he was pressing into you again, pulling you close to him and meeting your lips over and over with his own. His tongue brushed your lower lip and his moan sounded against your mouth.
You weren’t aware of how it happened, but suddenly you were lying back on the couch with Elwain on top of you. He was kissing you furiously, his hips flush to yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him as close to you as you could get.
One of your gasping breaths caught in your chest, triggering a coughing fit. You rolled over, trying not to cough right into Elwain’s face. He sat back. His lips were already slightly kiss-swollen and he looked a bit rumpled. “Right,” he said, trying to finger-comb his hair back into a presentable state. “You’re still not feeling well.”
“Hold on. Give me a minute, we can keep going,” you said between coughs. Elwain pressed his lips together, but they were twitching toward a smile.
“You are admirably determined, but I think it would be better for you to rest,” he said. There was a pause. Elwain tugged on a few of the longer strands of his hair. “I take that to mean you feel the same way?”
“That I like you? Yeah.” You pulled him down so he was laying across your chest. He looked at you, eyes surprisingly wide and innocent. “When I first met you, I thought you were kind of an asshole. And you are kind of an asshole. But you’re also charming and endearing and you try to follow my rules even when you totally don’t have to. And you’re willing to take care of me when I’m sick.”
“You took care of me when I had lost everything,” Elwain said. “I only wished to return the favor.” His fingers wandered over your stomach, tracing absent patterns on your shirt. You could feel his warmth against your skin. “Usually, that’s how it works, with Faeries. Favors are given because giving means you can get something in return, and you’re always trying to leverage the deal to get more than what you’re giving.” He closed his eyes for a moment, brows furrowing. “But when I saw you were sick, I wasn’t thinking that I needed to pay you back. I was only thinking that I wanted to help you.”
You stroked your fingers through his hair. “That’s what love is.”
“Mortal love,” he sighed. “I always thought it was flimsy and weak and short-lived.” His eyes opened again and he nestled into you. “It’s much stronger than I thought. So much more than I believed. It almost hurts, but it’s a good hurt.”
You started coughing again. Elwain swung himself up and gathered you into his arms. “I’ll take you back to bed,” he said. “You need to get better. I want to continue this.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. His heartbeat thudded against you, slow and steady. The feeling of him holding you swelled and ached inside you, a pleasant ache. You clung to him as he eased you into bed and settled in next to you. Your illness was all but forgotten. Everything was soft and pleasant under a heady wave of love.
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oliviayamaoka · 3 years
Text
Heartfelt Deception (Joey / The Legion x F!Reader)
 Y/N is a rather new and young survivor, taking a while to become accustomed to the brutal trials set out by the god-like figure known as the Entity. 
Feeling alone and in despair, you meet somebody who begins to slowly change the way you perceive yourself and your current situation.
Y/N wasn’t sure what this place was called, it was a cold place. You shivered as you hugged yourself, walking through the snowy winds trying to find a generator. A part of you felt crazy for thinking your clothes were thin but it was just the piercing cold weather. Y/N looked up before noticing the killer shack, you quickly ran towards it. You hoped there was a generator there to warm up your hands slightly. 
As you entered the shack, you stumbled across four lockers, a generator, and a firey totem at the corner. You shut your eyes in relief, stumbling somewhat. You felt as though your legs were about to freeze off at any moment. A part of you regretted not asking any other survivors about this realm. You were relatively new to the realms and hadn’t fought many killers yet, not that you wanted to.
“Oh, god.” You mumbled as you kneeled downwards, immediately getting to work on the generator. Your lips curved into a smile upon feeling the warmth of the machine and the sparks of the wires. 
Your eyes averted towards the totem with the fire. For a second, you wanted to use that to warm up but you wanted to finish this generator as fast as you could. There was a strong sense of focus and determination within you at that moment.
“You got this.” You mumble. You weren’t exactly hyping yourself up, it was just you reacting to your circumstances by mumbling.
It felt lonely and pathetic, doing a generator by yourself, You felt a small sense of pity towards the others for not accompanying you. A sigh escaped your mouth for even thinking about that. Five generators, four survivors. Of course you all should split up for the sake of survival. Stop being so selfish, you thought to yourself. In fact. you didn’t even see which other survivors were here. Your train of thought was interrupted as somebody entered the shack.
Your hands trembled as you observed the figure that walked in. Within those seconds, you just assumed it wasn’t the killer. It was a guy in darker clothing. There was a streak of black paint spread across his eyes. His expression remained unchanged and rather welcoming. Another survivor.
“Um, hey.” You say awkwardly to him as you turned your head back to the generator. There were two wires that needed connecting.
“Hey, hey.” He replied, nodding his head as he watched you. 
“Wanna help? If you want, of course. There’s also a totem there. The Entity told me that the firey ones could help us.” You said. He smirked slightly as he began to work on the generator, kneeling down beside you. The guy seemed lean.
“Let’s finish this up first. I don’t think I caught your name, by the way.” He said to you. His presence felt relaxing, he was about eighteen or nineteen. it was peaceful to have somebody else young here.
“Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Y/N, what’s yours?” You asked him with a smile. 
“Name’s Joey.” He responded to you as you nodded.
“It’s nice to meet you, Joey.” Y/N said as she looked around the shack again to make sure there wasn’t anything out of place. 
“I haven’t seen you around much. Well, I have, I guess. We just never got to talk and whatever.” He shrugged.
“I wish it were under better circumstances.” You replied as you stood up, walking towards the firey totem in the corner. His eyes shot up as you did so.
“Woah, woah, woah. No need for that right now.” Joey reassured you, quickly standing in front of you with his hands up to his chest to slightly push you away from it. Your eyebrows raised up in surprise for a second.
“Oh, I thought breaking them would help us.” Y/N said as he scratched the back of his neck with a small smile.
“Eh, not really. You ought to avoid these ones entirely. The Entity will say anything to have you--or us suffer. Trust me.” Joey explained as you nodded your head, being rather naive about what he said.
“Makes sense. What is this place, anyways?” You asked him as he peered out through the killer shack window. The winds calmed down.
“It’s called Mount Ormond.” He said in a rather reminiscent yet relaxed tone. 
You nodded a bit, This must’ve been the realm he was plucked out of based on his reaction to it. Maybe his family resort? You weren’t sure at all but you enjoyed making assumptions and theories about the people here. Hell, you met somebody that claimed to be from the 70′s. Either way, at least you found a friend in Joey and somebody to hang out with at the camp.
“Are you from here?” You asked him.
“Huh? Oh, well... It’s complicated. I do really like this place though. I’ve never felt more free before this whole shitshow happened.” Joey replied. 
“Sorry to hear... sounded fun.” You say to him.
“It was... best few moments of my life until Frank... nevermind. Is your generator almost done?” He asked.
“Almost, I think.” You responded as the generator lit up. 
Your face immediately lit up as you bounced back up, proud of your accomplishment. Joey smiled and lifted his hand up to high-five you. You smacked your hands against his. He chuckled at your excitement, he seemed to quickly grow fond of you. Y/N looked around before looking back at him.
“You should come with me.” You say to him.
“I... wish I could.” He said with a small hint of guilt and sadness in his voice. He quickly noticed how depressing he sounded and stood up straight.
“I wish I could! I mean, we already wasted enough time on one generator. And you’re a fast learner so I’m sure you can pop these motherfuckers really fast.” Joey said to you, confident in your abilities. You nodded with a small smile.
“Thanks, Joey.” You said to him, rubbing your hands together at the door. Joey noticed you must’ve been freezing. He stared for a moment before building up the confidence
“Here, you must be freezing.” He said, sliding off his gloves and giving them to you. You felt your cheeks burn up as you reluctantly took his gloves, he seemed to push them towards your chest. Joey was very insistent on you taking them.
“I, um... thank you. I mean it.” You stammered as he nodded, clasping his hands together and taking a few steps back in a very confident manner.
“Like, I know I don’t sound genuine or anything but thank you. Thanks for helping me and um, being my friend. I’m sorry if I sound stupid but like, this place is just so fucked up, y’know?” You say to him as you sat down in front of the generator, sliding his gloves on. Joey felt his heart tingle slightly.
“Nah, you don’t sound weird at all. It’s probably shitty to...I mean, it is shitty fighting killers and whatnot. I get you.” He said, sitting down next to you. It felt strange yet intoxicating for him to be in such a close proximity to you.
“Yeah... how do you do it, Joey? Having to live an eternity getting fucking hooked... and tortured by these fuckers.” You asked him as your voice began to crack and tremble. Tears welled up in your eyes as he stared in shock.
“Just--don’t worry about that right now. The killer hasn’t hurt you this time and he won’t, I promise he won’t. Believe me.” He said as you wiped your eyes with your sleeve.
“I just wanna go back... I don’t get it.” You mumbled, looking upwards as you tried to relax yourself. 
Joey hesitated but wrapped one arm around you. You welcomed the gesture and rested your head against his chest slightly. Any form of comfort right now felt nice to have. Your eyes shut as Joey rubbed your shoulder a bit. He felt very scared and vulnerable in that moment but he did his best to comfort you. Joey never would’ve imagined his first encounter with you would be so... nice?
“It’s fucked up, I know but... don’t let these things destroy who you are. You seem like a tough person. I never let what happened to me destroy who I was. And now, well... I’m free. I can do what I want, when I want.” He said to you.
Joey felt guilty. He saw a part of himself he never wanted to acknowledge within you. A part that needed consoling, a part of him that only felt regret and pain. For what he would do to you one day and for what he did to that janitor. Why did he have to be so stupid sometimes? Joey found you in the purgatory he was meant to be punished in, to kill for god knows how long.
“That does sound nice... sorry for being a suck.” You said as you got up and hurried towards the door. Joey seemed to be in a bit of a rush too since he needed to please the Entity some sort of way.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Thanks for being my fourth friend... I meant what I said, though. Just don’t think of me as.. bad.” He said as he slid out the door.
You stared in slight confusion before bracing yourself for the coldness. You began to make your way to the next generator.
One all generators were complete, you made your way to the exit gate. You noticed three girls. Y/N stopped in confusion as she stared at them. Feng Min, Kate Denson, and Claudette Morel. Claudette was wrapping up her own wounds as Feng began to open the door. Four survivors... four survivors.
“Hey there, stranger. You okay?” Kate asked as she playfully nudged you.
“Where is Joey?” You asked her as she stared blankly at you.
“Joey?” She questioned as you finally put two and two together.
You spoke with the killer? He didn’t kill you. Wait, you let a killer embrace you. No, not a killer, it was Joey. No, Joey was a killer. Your mind raced as you spaced out, ignoring the blaring noise of the door opening. Kate nudged you softly again.
“Did you get caught in his frenzy? That shakes a lot of folks up.” She said.
“Oh, yeah... I guess...” You replied as the gates opened.
“Alright, ladies, Let’s roll.” Feng said jokingly as you walked with them outside of the place. You were both confused and horrified at what just happened. It was weird because you felt so at peace and even inspired from him. Joey made you feel confident. You inhaled sharply from the coldness as you made your escape.
Joey watched from a distance at the lodge with his mask on, he leaned against the doorframe. He felt disappointed that you’d figure it out sooner or later. He sighed deeply, feeling frustrated and angry. Now, he felt like listening to his mixtape and returning to being the edgy troublemaker he was until he got to talk to you again.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Thank you for reading! This was kinda based off of the HC’s I made of the Legion where Joey always had a crush on you. Might do a part two since I enjoyed writing this but stay tuned if I do :)
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miraculouscontent · 3 years
Text
Didn’t Need Burrow (August 7th-September 13th)
Anonymous asked:
Didn’t Need Burrow: Ladybug and Chat Noir will be asked to participate in judging a competition that Marinette and Adrien are both a part of. Ladybug will want to vote for herself as Marinette, but Tikki will tell her(once detransformed and while she is snacking) that she can’t because then people will know that Marinette is Ladybug. Chat Noir, meanwhile, will freely vote for Adrien with no repercussions or drawbacks, and Adrien will end up winning the competition. Marinette will admit that she was “so silly” to even think of voting for herself, especially since “Adrien needs the award more so that I do” despite being rich, white, male, and “perfect”(oh, I’m sorry, “purrfect”!), since all of Marinette’s legitimate problems of anxiety, dyspraxia, and the like get thrown out the window because the writers’ perfect sunshine boy incel stand-in has a “saaad home life!”, and Marinette needs to give him pity and put his feelings above his rather than wish for her own success. Cuz Girl Power.
tbh, given the leaks script, I’d reverse that and saying that Adrien voted for LadyNoir as Couple of the Year.
Anonymous asked:
Didn’t Need Burrow: Marinette and Adrien will reveal their identities, and Marinette actually WILL be disappointed that the boy who goofed off in fights and didn’t take no for an answer is none other than her perfect modeling celebrity crush. However, rather than this being a point towards Adrien needing to learn how to improve himself and accept Marinette’s feelings, this scene is used to make HER look bad(because of course it is) and she is blamed for expecting Adrien to be perfect(despite being encouraged and told to see him as such), and told that she should be happy that Chat was hitting on her even when she didn’t like it or it got in the way of battle plans, likely by Alya, because it was her true love under the mask all along. Eventually she “learns her lesson”(ick) and comes to accept Adrichat for who he is, warts and all. Bonus if she has a flashback to when Chat said “if you saw me without my mask you wouldn’t be able to resist me” as she realizes that he was right.
Didn’t Need Burrow? More like “Didn’t Need to Think About This”
i hate it
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: Luka will be Chat Blanc "2.0"
But Luka doesn’t have Chat-level favoritism going so Bunnyx won’t be there to defend him from consequences.
Anonymous asked:
We will have Ladybug!Alya in Marinette's akumatization episode. Obviously everyone would think that she is "better" than "old" Ladybug. (Bonus points if Ladybug!Alya don't "alienate" Chat Noir, mostly by catering to his whims)
Oh, of course! No one will miss the “old” Ladybug.
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: Bob Roth is akumatized into Rip Off, a supervillain with power to copy anything he sees (including powers of heroes)
Okay but that’s genius.
(I know we already had it in “Miraculer” but I like this more.)
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Now that Luka knows their identities, he will push the Love Square in a romantic manner. Stans would be totally fine with this because it doesn't interfere with their endgame :)
Well, obviously!
I’m just waiting for them to basically say that the secret identities don’t matter and, because they like one side, also means they like the other side.
Because forget nuance, am I right?
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: In the end, (after Adrienette gets together) Narrator reveals himself (herself?) as Alya with words "that's how I helped my bestie [Marinette] get a relationship with love of her life [Adrien]" or something similar.
wait, Alya, are you filming a Ladybug biography
why did you include all the humilation
why
That explains her making herself look good though.
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: Luka will finally reveal that he knows Heroes' secret identities... to Alya, who obviously decide to hide from Marinette that Luka knows her identity (Bonus Points if reason provided by Alya why she is doing this is utterly ridiculous)
AAAAAAAAAAAA
I guess Luka would have to realize that Alya knows. Bonus if he tells her Chat’s identity too so love square shipping can commence.
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: "Knitting Fairy" will be name of Marinette's akumatized form.
Can you say “reused design”? I certainly can, we’re used to it.
Anonymous asked:
Didn’t Need Burrow:
Luka keeping his knowledge about the identities (esp. Ladybug’s) will somehow blow up in a way for the writers to paint him in a bad light, probably ending with Marinette not trusting him. (As well as no hint of irony that Adrien did the same thing for completely selfish reasons in Chat Blanc).
MiraculousMX: Platonic soulmates!
us: Source??
Anonymous asked:
DNB: If LS gets reversed, Adrien complains about Marinette having other friends. Not just being friends with Luka or any other guys, but friends PERIOD, showing the same jealousy/desire for his 'love interest' to be isolated as Chat Noir. These MASSIVE RED FLAGS are treated as Just More Innocent Sadrien Things, because he's sOoOoOo Sad and SoOoOoO Lonely~
Oh god, now I had an awful thought that this is where Adrien getting jealous of Luka, and Luka feels bad/”knows what’s best” so he either ditches Marinette/finds an excuse to leave or makes sure that Adrien gets his time with her.
Because it’s the love square so it’s “important” that Marinette spend time with Adrien.
Anonymous asked:
Dnb: assuming the Senti-Adrien theory is true, in the season finale, Viperion joins the fight, stops SM from using the ladybug an cat miraculi by going back in time only to use them by himself, wishing for Adrien to be a real boy (and love Marinette). Of course Luka needs to give something in exchange, worst case scenario, his life.
That got really dark.
Though tbh with how much they push Luka and Marinette around, one of them will probably have to give up something huge for Adrien (they both already sacrificed their relationship, so--).
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: If Chat Noir joins Shadow Moth then he is treated by both Gabriel and Heroes as his greatest asset, even through he is still complete joke that is defeated by rest of Heroes faster than Mr Pigeon in "Timetagger". (Bonus points if Heroes defeat him by "Backhand Offhand", Offscreen or he is defeated by "Friendly Fire" from Akuma of the Week due to his own stupidity)
tbh I could probably do more sad math with “how often Chat Noir/Cataclysm is useless,” bonus if it’s put up against characters/Ladybug stroking his ego.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Adrien's fears concerning Ladybug are made more explicit through a nightmare/vision (possibly akuma-induced) of Ladybug calling him unreliable/saying she doesn't need him anymore because she has partners she can actually COUNT on. Naturally, this is treated as Pure Sadrien Hours rather than a fair critique. Bonus if he ditches/forces her to beg for his assistance AGAIN to soothe his poor bruised baby ego.
*“Malediktator” flashbacks, but Adrien instead of Chloe*
Anonymous asked:
Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir skips out on a fight/akuma attack for some spiteful, selfish reason or another. Ladybug handles it without him, either completely through her own skill or with help from Rena/other heroes. Adrien then angsts about 'not being needed', with Marinette's 'Mistake of the Day' being that she didn't cater to his pity party due to being too busy DOING HER DAMNED JOB.
me seeing that one leaked script where they talk about how Chat/Cataclysm would make things easier: *sigh*
Anonymous asked:
Didn't Need Burrow: Plagg will encourage Adrien to act even more selfishly, skipping more battles and being even brattier. This is so his stans can blame Plagg for being 'a bad influence' on their perfect angel, even when it's clear the two of them are on the same wavelength. Oooh, he's twisting his rubber arm; how AWFUL--! Adrien would NEVER do all these Awful Things he's already done if he didn't have Plagg~! What a bad kitty~!
“rubber arm” jdfkgjndfjgfg
tbh Plagg already is super laidback and doesn’t really like transforming/complains about going into battle, so this isn’t much of a stretch.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: "Gabriel Agreste" or other episodes will reveal that Gabriel flew many, if not ALL of the same Red Flags his son displays on a regular basis. The narrative treats this as though this makes Gabriel more 'sweet, sad and sympathetic' rather than illustrating that both of them are dangerously entitled and generally awful.
This sounded really intriguing as a sort of “apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” thing until that last sentence kicked in.
That’s damn accurate to what they’d do too, ugh.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Plagg is the one that discovers that Gabriel is Hawk/Shadowmoth, but is forcibly sworn to silence by Adrien. Bonus if Adrien somehow gives this command without learning what Plagg is trying to tell him -- i.e. he get irritated and orders Plagg to shut up in a way that bars him from EVER saying what he was attempting to say -- so that Adrien's stans can claim it was all a big misunderstanding and blame Plagg entirely for it. Or Marinette. Somehow.
Oh oh oh!
Alternatively, Adrien silences Plagg without realizing that he has that kind of power (like saying, “you can’t tell anyone!” and we see the magic hit Plagg’s mouth), so the fandom can say, “HE DOESN’T KNOOOW THAT HE DID IT.”
Anonymous asked:
dntb: Luka is gonna be villianised in some way for not telling Marinette he knows the identities of both of them
Meanwhile, Alya, slipping the bouncer her free pass.
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: After one of the kwamis ​​makes one snickering comment too many, Marinette snaps and tells them all to shut up (with obvious outcome). Narrative obviously equals it to scene between Gabriel and Noroo from "Sandboy" (Bonus Points if Narrative deems Marinette worse than Gabriel, because "Gabriel forbid Noroo from talking as joke")
oh my goooooood
Marinette: *snaps because she’s stressed out*
the fandom: SHE SO MEAN!!! ;o;
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: Adrien's reveal as Sentimonster just for additional souce of "sad points" for him
this DNB: i am inevitable
mystic-lionroar asked:
Didn't Need Burrow: The writers' Status-Quo allergy kicks in when someone very pointedly implies Chloe, Lila and/or Gabriel work for Hawk Moth with how many Akumas they tend to cause... only to get reminded point blank that "Hawk Moth is the sole one responsible for this mess, no one else". Cue two episodes later, both the characters and the writers' memories of this scene are erased. What erased it? ╰( ・ ᗜ ・ )╯Why, Marinette can be held responsible for this one, of course! (Me: (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻)
╰(‵□′)╯
OH MY GOOOOD
“Crocoduel” also basically already blamed Marinette for two akumatizations so at this point we’re just waiting.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: To further cement the whole 'destined to be' shlock, after the shock of the eventual reveal wears off, we get a call back to how frequently Chat Noir told Ladybug that they were meant for each other and that she 'was the only one who didn't see it'. Marinette agrees that she was silly and foolish for not recognizing it sooner, parroting Adrien's bullshit in order to further cement the notion that she's HAPPILY accepting her 'fate' to be nothing more than his personal prize.
You can’t see it but I have my head in my hands in grief.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Adrien's gross sense of entitlement towards Ladybug will become even more explicit, with him angrily ranting about how he DESERVES to 'get the girl'. No matter how awful and nasty he gets, the narrative continues to treat him as though he's 100% right to be pissed off at her for DARING to have agency or thinking she has a say in things. As clearly, the biggest mistake Marinette has ever made is thinking she gets to have Opinions or make her own decisions. G-girl power...?
Marinette needing to be constantly told what’s best for her by other people and it’s okay because she needs to accept+follow all opinions.
end me
Anonymous asked:
DNB: The double standard between Adrien and other characters will be more noticeable. Adrien will still be put on a pedestal.
Because no one will notice Adrien if they didn’t put him on a metaphorical and physical pedastal.
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: Foxy Cat and CaraBug
omg Fox Adrien.is one of the worst hero choices I’ve ever heard fjdgjfjdglfkdg
I could at least see why Marinette thought that Adrien fit the snake since the narrative gushes for him so hard.
Anonymous asked:
Didn’t Need Burrow: As a result of being written by a straight white male writing team, the show starts to use Marinette’s girliness against her. From her love of pink being mocked to the kwamis admitting(in the spirit of another DNB) that they don’t respect Marinette because she’s “too girly”, to her fashion designing being treated as a cutesy but ultimately fickle pastime(in the spirit that all teenage girls’ interests are treated), the show absolutely throws Girl Power out the window in favor of giving Marinette absolute hell for daring to present herself in a traditionally feminine way, treating her femininity as the butt of a joke that no one is laughing at. Bonus points of someone says(or even outright tells her to her face) that she’s “such a girl”, as if that’s supposed to be an insult. Alternatively, this happens to Rose instead of Marinette, as she’s just as girly if not more so than her, or it happens to both of them(regardless of whether or not it’s at the same time).
WOOOOW
I mean, honestly, yeah.
Anonymous asked:
Didn’t Need Burrow: Things other characters did that were bad will be retconned into things that Marinette did instead, or will otherwise be retconned into being her fault, no matter how improbable or contradictory. Meanwhile, bad things characters did to Marinette or good things characters did FOR Marinette will be retconned into nonexistence.
I MEAN THEY BLAMED MARINETTE FOR “SILENCER” SO--
MATTER OF TIME.
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: Simultaneous Akumatization of Manon, Chris, Ella and Etta, obviously when they are babysat by Marinette, because otherwise ML Writers wouldn't be able to paint it as Marinette's fault
oh god
please no
I mean, not even just to blame Marinette for it, but I can’t even stand these kids when they’re on their own, MUCH LESS TOGETHER.
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: If Adrien gets akumatized, then it would be just Chat Blanc with shoulder pads and crown
Is this a reference to my Miracle Queen post?
Because yes.
Anonymous asked:
Didn't need burrow: In Hack-San Chat Noir will pull a Sentibubler and refuse to listen to Alya with the Ladybug Miraculous as he doesn't have a brain unless he can progress the not so progressive four-sided Hellfire, which is actually still the best-case-scenario. I mean he could just not come at all, since he's only there to flirt with and seduce Ladybug with unfunny jokes.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Adrien causes problems because of Alyabug.
ugggggh
Anonymous asked:
DNB: Alya will immediately have access to things like the creation of charms despite how long it took for Marinette to be able to do that.
Wait--
If she doesn’t, did they literally just give Alya the ladybug miraculous because they knew that Markov wouldn’t have a way of hiding the amulet on him and they didn’t feel like putting it on his model???
Anonymous asked:
Didn’t Need Burrow: Alya’s Ladybug name is “Coccinelle” aka “Ladybug” in French. Or something equally lazy such as The Red Spotted One or the Scarlett Beetle. Even if it sounds cool at first glance, it will ultimately boil down to a plain and obvious name, because apparently EVERY superhero’s name has to so blatantly relate to the animal their Miraculous is based off of. For some reason. Somehow. -_-
fhkgjfdkgdfg okay but “The Red Spotted One” made me laugh.
Anonymous asked:
Hack-San DNB’s:
• Chat Noir will be upset that Ladybug trusted her miraculous to someone else.
• There will be a comment on how Alya was a just as good, if not better Ladybug than Marinette.
• Alya’s performance as LB will be used as another instance to show Marinette made the ‘right choice’ telling her her identity.
• Using the Horse to teleport back instead giving the earrings to Alya will not be mentioned as an option.
• Scene of Adrichat being sad about ‘feeling replaced’.
Especially on that “comment that Alya is just as good, if not better,” one, it probably won’t even be used as a reassurance for Marinette like, “oh, that’s good to know that I’m not the only one who can be Ladybug,” it’ll just be praise for Alya.
Anonymous asked:
Hack-San DNB: Chat Noir gets angry with LB for not telling him she was leaving & she has to apologize for it.
(Despite making sure there was a backup Ladybug to protect Paris, unlike Chat in the NY special who left the city completely unprotected).
Convenient.
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: "Dearest Family" (episode where both of Marinette's parents are akumatized) will be about Marinette learning "true value" of Chat Noir
Either that or incorporating Adrien into the family.
Anonymous asked:
Don't Need a Burrow: Psycomedian will be blatant Joker rip-off
You can just say “all akuma in the season will either be rip-offs of themselves or past akuma,” it’s okay. :P
Anonymous asked:
Another DNB for Hack-San, since we see Jagged Stone in the trailer, so if they show it..:
The “most precious possession” of Jagged’s will be Fang and not, y’know, either of his children.
I missed that trailer.
Honestly there could be some funny moments with the concept, but if Jagged is the only joke made about it then yes, I will be very bitter.
Alternatively, Jagged picks his guitar instead.
Anonymous asked:
DNB: In the Alyabug episode, Alya will either be Practically Perfect In Every Way™, or will royally screw up in a way that will somehow lead to Marinette. Either way, Cat Noir will flirt with the new Ladybug, or pull a Sentibubbler. Or both. There may or may not be a comment about how Alyabug's costume is so much better than Marinette's despite being a fashion designer.
dkfgkjdfgjf I adore how this whole thing is just, “there’s so many ways it could go wrong!”
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emperor-palpaminty · 3 years
Text
Killing Time
Because nothing can kill a relationship like lies.
A modern AU where crosshair is a hitman and you're his loyal girlfriend who happens to be in the bodyguard business, but neither one of you know the other's careers
Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, making oit and allusions to smut, also this is in no way accurate to real life and it's just dramatic, please don't hurt me lol
children you have full permission to run away and not come here, in fact please run away
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Very few things phased you. The only things that brought you to your precipice of agitation was burning pasta, your phone charger not working, and showing up to your shift only to realize someone had been killing all your clients.
Who said keeping people alive was easy? No one, that was who, and if anyone said it they were wrong or had no experience working with others whatsoever. Making sure others lived to see their next day was deadly business, for the people that were trying to live, at least.
“Charles!” You barked, feet hitting the floor of the bull pen. “What the hell happened?” You slammed your files on your desk, face warm, head just about collapsing with pressure. Your fingers pressed to your temples, hoping that they would grip it, hold it together. “Burke was alive when I left last night.”
“Doesn't matter now." Your coworker dropped his sandwich onto his desk. "Burke is fucking dead now. As dead as a doorknob." He swallowed his bite. "Luckily, you weren't on shift when it happened, so you aren't gonna catch any fire for it."
"Shit, Charles, a man is dead." You collapsed in your chair, a gentle "oomph" escaping your mouth. Your lips pressed together in agitation and you moaned to yourself. "This is the third one in two months. Sure, I'll get a couple cold bodies, but-"
"But this is a lot." Charles sunk into his own chair, grabbing for his sandwich again.
You stared at him, disbelief coating your gaze. "One is a lot, Charles," You snarled, grabbing at the folder on your desk. "Any leads?"
"Oh, yeah. But they're all at Burke's mansion." Charles tossed the crust of his lunch into the trash can. "I can drive ya."
"No, I'll take my car," You grumbled. You swiped the keys from your desk and stood, stalking back towards the elevator, anger eating away at you.
If one more of your clients- YOUR own clients- got killed, you would have to start pulling full shifts again.
___
Your shoes, practical, did little more than tap against the marble floor as you ducked under the Police tape. You skimmed the scene, frowning, eyes gracing past a particularly nasty chunk of gore on the wall. "Shot from above," You mumbled, glancing at the shattered window.
The mansion was huge. You'd been coming here for nearly a year now to keep an eye on Burke, and it still shocked you when you saw the absolute volume of the home. How much house would one man need, exactly?
In your years as a bodyguard you'd watched out for a lot of people- spoiled celebrities, prideful and arrogant politicians, and a particularly interesting Chef who had an unusual desire to cook everything with some kind of caffeine in it. That was probably your favorite client.
"Excuse me, miss," a voice broke the mumble in the next room, probably of detectives or cops sweeping the house for evidence. "You shouldn't-"
"I was Burke's bodyguard." You tugged your badge out or your pocket, allowing the interrupting police officer to take it and examine it. “You can verify with my assistant, Charles. Make sure you tell him he’s my assistant and not the other way around, though, he can be a dick.”
The cop hesitated, then gave a slight nod. “Well, we’re still cleaning up the scene.” His hands offered your badge back, and you slid it into your back pocket, satisfaction deflating. “You can come by later after it’s clean. Ballistics is running comparisons right now.” He paused and glanced at the shattered window. “Looks like the shot came from the garage. It’s the only side with no motion sensors or alarms.” The cop’s brows raised in interest. “Know why?”
“No.” You said, calmly, turning towards the front door. “I assume I can go there?” You heard no objection as you stepped outside, tugging your sunglasses back on over your eyes. The sun was unforgiving and you gave an involuntary hiss as the bright rays hit your eyes just right to temporarily give your vision black spots. You blinked strongly and hurried towards the garage. 
In truth, Burke had alarms everywhere except the garage because he had so many people and cars coming and going. For any new technology the billionaire was releasing, the man had drugs and other forms of entertainment coming in and out, and it was all stuff that would probably bring him down. That nondisclosure form was still somewhere in the house in some obscure filing cabinet and you really, really, really didn’t feel like having a lawsuit lurking over your shoulders. Life was too good- well, everything outside of people you were being paid to keep alive was good. 
Death really killed the whole “survival” business.
You clamored your way to the roof of the garage, noting the ladder was the same one that the gardener used around the several acres Burke owned. The police had to have put it here- the gardener only came in the mornings.
So who the hell climbed up here without a ladder? Most people didn’t want to put in the effort to scale this freehand or wedge between the wall of the garage and the fence to shimmy up. That someone had to be either very determined to kill Burke, for personal motive or financial motive.
You brushed off you pants and glanced around, looking down at the surface of the roof. Nothing- not even a bullet casing- had been left behind. You frowned and raked a hand through your hair, skimming your scalp as you examined the roof, walking to the edge closest to the window.
You stared in, at the shattered glass, pondering. Burke was heading to bed when he'd been shot, you assumed, so the assassian would have had to know his routine. Your mind ran through possibilities again, but you could come up with none that were motivated personally enough or fit enough to climb without much assistance. You trailed along the surface, frowning, unable to find anything, but paused at a smudge of black paint, small, on the corner of the roof.
____
You turned your car down the street, exhaling softly as you pulled into your driveway.
99. That was what the marks said. Very subtle, meant nothing, unless it was a birth year or graduating class. The cops had come back, irritated, snapped a couple of pictures, and told you off about your wild theories of a fiscally motivated assassian. Apparently, you watched too many scret agent movies, or something like that.
You opened the door of the car and climbed out, frustration making you slam it shut. You inhaled the scent of the yard- clean, fresh cut, and perhaps it could help soothe your anger before you went inside.
After fumbling on your Keychain, you unlocked the door and hurried in, locking it behind you. "Cross?"
A savory aroma wafted from the kitchen, and your mouth watered. Your toes found their way out of your shoes and you hurried to the kitchen, pausing briefly at the doorway.
Cross's lanky figure was leaning over the skillet, stirring something, pale hands moving in expertise across the stove top. "Darling, you're late." He drawled.
You sighed, fully entering the kitchen. "Yeah. Sorry." You leaned up and wrapped your arms around his waist, face pressing against his back. You sighed. The day felt a little less bad now- filled with him. "Work kept me."
"How was work?"
You grunted. "A killer. An absolute killer." The irony was not lost on you, but it was lost to your boyfriend. He thought you were an editor for some book publishing company, because cover was the most important thing. You were one of those people trying to stay alive, after all.
Lies hurt, but it was one of the necessary ones. A little lie.
"Yikes." His hands drew plates to himself. "Mine wasn't much better. Got a few new clients, a few new cases." He sighed. "The Baliff forgot to submit evidence."
You mumbled against his shirt. "Law school really paid off, huh?"
"I'll say." He turned around, adjusting your arms, slowly taking your chin and leaning down to peck you. You always melted at his kisses, knees weak and brain numb, and he seemed to know it every time. You hummed, running your hands up his chest, the irritation for the day pooling to your midsection as your fingers gripped his shirt, your lips pulling in on his.
Cross tugged away gently, and you whined, fingers stubbornly clasped. "Wow, really frustrated today."
"Yes," You mumbled.
His lips pressed towards one of their corners in a half smile, and he picked your head. "Go shower. Then we can eat and I'll take care of you."
You hummed, fingers reluctantly releasing him, and you hurried away to the bathroom. You paused at the dresser, rummaging through, grabbing an especially large t-shirt and hipster underwear. Comfort was more important at the moment.
You climbed into the shower, turning the water to as hot as you could and scrubbing yourself off, humming in pleasure as the day came off you and went down the drain. The floral scent of the soap remained, the purple bad working diligently to rid you of your grime and frustration. Lavender really is a natural relaxant. You sighed and leaned back briefly on the tile, feeling every muscle in you ease at the same time.
After toweling off and getting dressed, your padded to the kitchen where Cross was pouring a your favorite wine. You sighed happily, accepting the glass as he skimmed your fresh-showered body. "Thanks."
"Of course." Cross picked up his own glass, taking a sip, eyes still diligently stripping you on their own. You shivered slightly, setting down your glass and looking up at him. "Dinner's ready," He mumbled, leaning in, pressing a hand to the counter of either side of you, leaving your back to the counter. "But I would much rather start with dessert."
You drew in a breath as he pressed his lips to your neck, drawing out a sigh with his teeth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, humming in agreement, and he scooped you up. Your groaned as he drew your legs around his lips, shifting, the agitating heat pooling back between your legs. "That's a good idea." You mumbled, whimpering as he bucked his hips slightly. "I just showered, though."
"Then we can take another one," He hissed, lips covering yours. "You're so damn intoxicating."
You mumbled something against his lips, unable to get a coherent response out as he dropped you on the bed. You bounced briefly, giggling, and he yanked off his shirt and joined you, climbing over you and hovering. "Come here, sweetheart," His finger traced over your shirt between your breasts, running down to the hem. "Let's end the day on a good note."
You whimpered, neck straining as you leaned up for his kiss, and you felt Cross snarl against you, tugging your surrendered form up closer to him. Your body relaxed again, neck loosening and head back against the pillow as he tugged your own shirt up, eyes gleaming with a primal eagerness that made you swoon, ready to work out the agitation for the day you both had.
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bestworstcase · 3 years
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Do you think Rapunzel can be condescending at times?
absolutely yeah
as is the case with most of rapunzel's flaws, it's most evident in her interactions with cassandra because frankly - ok i have to back up here a little and start this off with a hot take™
i don't think rapunzel likes who cassandra is very much.
she does love cassandra. she desperately wants to be friends with cassandra, and she enjoys spending time with cassandra.
but the cass rapunzel knows is this very dependable, steady person who showed her the ropes of coronan society and is always sort of there to provide support when rapunzel needs it, and who is also blunt-spoken, honest, maybe a little too closed off, and a little rough around the edges.
when... the reality is that cassandra is a very ambitious young woman whose driving motivation is to leave. she is a dependable steady presence at rapunzel's side because that is her job. she wants to be a guard. she wants to be respected and seen as her own person. she is very carefully trying to thread the needle of genuinely being rapunzel's friend whilst also fulfilling the requirements of her duty as rapunzel's servant, which necessitates being very careful about what parts of herself she reveals to rapunzel. she's brash. she's very independent. she likes to fight. she feels constrained and stifled in coronan society generally and in rapunzel's shadow specifically.
every single time rapunzel gets a real glimpse of this reality she reacts... well, in pretty condescending ways.
cassandra thinks a romantic holiday is annoying and stupid? rapunzel concludes that she is deeply unhappy because she's single and makes it her mission to cheer cass up, ignoring cassandra's repeated and increasingly firm attempts to get her to stop.
cassandra says something is going on that she isn't ready to talk about and asks rapunzel to be patient until cass is ready to discuss it? rapunzel stalks her to find out what it is, and then blames all the consequences of that decision on cass because if cass had just told her everything then rapunzel wouldn't have interfered.
cassandra breaks her leg and, after having it properly seen to by a doctor, asks to be left alone so she can rest while she heals up, and then gets increasingly frustrated and cranky when rapunzel refuses to stop bothering her? rapunzel can't fathom why cass won't accept her "help" and implies the situation is equivalent to red and angry running away.
cassandra vibes with the vardarans and happily incites a street brawl for fun and to drum up excitement for rapunzel's goodwill festival? rapunzel scolds her ("we're supposed to be celebrating goodwill!") and then tries to apologize to the sheriff on her behalf.
cassandra tries to tell rapunzel that she feels insecure because rapunzel no longer trusts her judgment, and rapunzel shuts her down hard because "i'm going to be the queen someday, and i'm going to make decisions you don't agree with, and i need you to be okay with that."
cassandra is hurt and angry because rapunzel's decision-making left her disabled and likely in horrific and constant pain? rapunzel gets mad at her, blames her for the injury, refuses to apologize, and purposefully isolates cassandra from everyone else in the group including owl with the intention of forcing cass to make up with her so things can go back to normal between them.
like...
every time they have a conflict, no matter how large or small, rapunzel's instinctive reaction is to assume that cassandra is the problem. and that's where the condescension springs from. she has this... underlying and i think probably subconscious feeling that cassandra's independence, her boundaries, her rough edges, her feelings that do not align with what rapunzel wants her to feel... that in small doses these things are okay, even appealing, but the instant they come into conflict with what rapunzel wants or thinks they become. A Problem. that needs to be Fixed.
this happens from time to time with other characters as well but with cassandra it is constant, i think probably because their personalities are so wildly different in so many different ways.
allllllllso there is an extent to which toxic positivity is just. innately condescending in and of itself. like forcing this upbeat peppy attitude on people is inherently patronizing. so there's also this like low-grade constant background radiation of condescension going on as well.
also also, i 100% believe this was an intended flaw and my pet conspiracy theory about the likely executive meddling in s3 was that the tts writing team was forced to scrap an arc that would have involved rapunzel reckoning with this, and i think we can actually still see the vestiges left over. consider the following:
1. in crossing the line, cassandra outright says that rapunzel has been condescending to her for the entirety of their relationship: "this has to stop now/this thing where you think that you've been my friend/and don't even hear how you condescend/the way you've always done" -> crossing the line in general has this odd dissonance with the rest of cassandra's villain arc where, in CTL, cass is very much focusing on rapunzel's treatment of her and the unfairness of her own position in corona more generally - all of which gets swept under the rug in the rest of s3.
2. in both rapunzeltopia and s3 a point is made of emphasizing that rapunzel's view of cass is lady-in-waiting cassandra. lotus dream cass cheerfully occupies her role as rapunzel's servant, and only appears as her "real" self (represented by her appearing in her preferred outfit) once the dream is twisted into a nightmare. and in s3, rapunzel reaches past all of cassandra's weapons - possessions that actually represent who cass is - to cry into her lady-in-waiting uniform; and every time she reminisces about cass, it's cass in the dress. it's never spelled out but the implication of all this is pretty damn clear.
3. at the end of plus est en vous rapunzel says that she always thought cassandra's place was beside her in corona, but acknowledges that was wrong and that cass deserves to leave and be free and live her own life outside of those constraints. she never quite apologizes - because evidently disney vetoed the princess being framed as in the wrong in any way - but there's still a marked difference between the attitude implied by that statement and the attitude she displays towards cass throughout the rest of the show.
so, this is my theory for how s3 was intended to play out originally:
- gothel is merely the last straw. cassandra takes the moonstone and flees after spitting rapunzel's last bit of condescension back in her face.
- zhan tiri encourages cassandra to ruminate on everything rapunzel did that hurt her, slowly cultivating the smoldering embers of her anger into an uncontrollable inferno.
- meanwhile rapunzel struggles to make sense cassandra's betrayal while it slowly dawns on her that... maybe cass was right. maybe she is condescending. maybe she did take cass for granted, and maybe she doesn't know cass as well as she thought she did.
- the symbolism rapunzeltopia set up of this divide between Happy Servant Cass In Her Gown on the one hand and Angry Vengeful Cass In Her Own Clothes + Burnt Hand becomes a visual shorthand the way rapunzel views cassandra, with Happy Servant Cass slowly being discarded as rapunzel more and more sees cass as she truly is: an independent person who has been terribly hurt by the way rapunzel treated her, despite rapunzel having the best intentions
- when they are trapped during zhan tiri's rampage, this is the subject of their conversation rather than rapunzel randomly apologizing for being an obnoxious flower child in the first few weeks; she talks about the traits that she saw that made her want to be friends with cass, and then segues into talking about how despite how much she cares about cass she really... didn't know cass that well, didn't bother to get to know her, and took for granted that cass would always be there and how that led to cass suffering so much pain - both emotionally and physically - and that's what she apologizes for.
- and then all this leads much more naturally into what rapunzel says when she and cass are saying goodbye at the very end, because we've seen that character growth happening on screen.
but since rapunzel wasn't allowed to be wrong because disney princess brand, most of this arc had to be ripped out and all we're left with is these weird hints around the edges of the hole it left behind.
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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years
Text
“If you want me to, I will.” [Hotch x Reader]
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Summary: Reader has worked for Aaron Hotchner for the past 6 months as the babysitter to his son, Jack.
Pairing: Hotch x (Female) Reader
Word Count: 7.4k – she thicc
Category: Smut/Fluff…and some angst because of who I am as a person.
Content Warning:
A/n: We all know that Hotch’s favorite album is the Beatles "White Album." And I have odd choices for songs that I use as lullabies. This idea came into my head and never left. This video of Billie Eillish singing part of the song is the closest to the structure of how I imagined it. Okay, okay, look, I know Roy wasn’t diagnosed until season 10. But I am taking creative liberties because I needed Jack to be younger.
Meaning this would be set around season 7. Hotch would be about 41, Jack is around 7; so, I made Reader around 26, giving them a 15-year age gap. Please don’t check my math. 😌
y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized texts are Reader’s thoughts.
-- If you want me to, I will. --
I was disoriented when I woke up. This isn’t my bed, I thought groggily. Wait…this isn’t even my house.
“Y/n,” a deep voice rumbled beside me.
I jackknifed up into a sitting position, eyes wide and my face flushed with embarrassment. “Mr. Hotchner!” I quickly brought my hand up to my cheek to make sure I hadn’t drooled in my sleep. Because that would really be the cherry on top of my embarrassment. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep. This is so embarrassing.”
Mr. Hotchner had been crouched down, putting himself level with his living room couch; the same couch he came home and found me sleeping on. In all the months I’d worked for the Hotchner/Brooks family, I’d never seen Mr. Hotchner smile anytime he wasn’t talking to his son, Jack. He always looked incredibly serious and sometimes incredibly sad; but the normal scowl was missing from his face as he looked at me, I noticed, watching him rise to a standing position.
“It’s fine, y/n. It’s after 1 o’clock in the morning.” He shifted, turning to go open the gun safe he kept in the part of the living room where his desk sat. Mr. Hotchner, or Hotch, as he kept telling me to call him, was the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit with the FBI. Which was just a very fancy way of saying he was a profiler that was in charge of all the other profilers. Some people just look like the jobs they have; Mr. Hotchner was one of those people. “Thank you for staying late, I didn’t think things were going to run this long. I didn’t even know you were here until I called Jessica a few hours ago.”
“Oh, right,” I mumbled as I began to gather my things from the coffee table and put them into my bag. “She called me a little after 4; something happened with her dad, I think.” I zipped my bag shut, standing up quickly. “I didn’t mind helping out, Mr. Hotchner.”
He made a sound that was almost a chuckle. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Hotchner, y/n. I know I’m a lot older than you, but that makes me feel ancient.”
“You’re not that much older than me,” I protested.
He looked incredulous. “Y/n, you’re still in college.”
Well, that stings a bit. “I’m in graduate school,” I said, my voice dampening a little bit. “I’m almost 27.”
Mr. Hotchner blinked at me. “Really? I thought you were younger than that…”
“My age didn’t come up in the numerous background checks you did on me?” I scoffed, immediately wincing as the words flew out of my mouth. “Oh my god, I just keep making this worse.” I slung my bag over my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner. For falling asleep on your couch…and for every moment after that. I’ll just go now.”
"Y/n," he called. "hang on, it's really late, and…I still need to pay you."
Jesus. “It is late, Mr. Hotchner, that’s why I need to head home.” I forced an awkward laugh. “I have class at 9 am.”
He pushed his hands into his pockets, regarding me in a way that made me squirm. I wasn’t used to a person paying attention to me the way Mr. Hotchner did. It didn’t make me uneasy; I just felt like I couldn’t hide anything from him…which made me uneasy. “What classes are you taking this semester?”
I don’t know why it stung so much that he knew virtually nothing about me. I’d worked for him for 6 months; he wasn’t obligated to know anything about me other than how I took care of his son. “I’m actually done with my course work this semester,” I mumbled. “I’m a TA…in a class that starts at 9 am.” It doesn’t matter, you’re just tired. “You-you can just pay me for tonight the next time I’m over. It’s not like you’re gonna stiff me.” I walked over to the door and threw a very quick “goodnight, Mr. Hotchner” over my shoulder before I scurried out.
I missed the quiet “Aaron. You can call me Aaron.”
--
The entire drive home, my thoughts were on Aaron Hotchner. None of this was what I expected when I took this job. I had been in graduate school for 2 years now. I had already gotten my master’s degree and had been accepted into the Ph.D. program. There are many branches of psychology, but I had always been fascinated with cognitive psychology; it seemed only natural that that is what I would pursue in graduate school. Once it became time to focus my interest in preparation for my dissertation, I decided to study the cognitive decay in Alzheimer's patients. We knew that they lost memories, but I wanted to explore how their basic cognitive functions were affected in certain settings.
As part of my program, I was a TA in an intro psych class, and I conducted my research at the hospital connected to the university. That’s where I first met Jessica Brooks. Despite getting a stipend for my teaching assistant work, I had been taking odd jobs to help make ends meet; D.C. wasn't cheap. When I mentioned that I had experience with kids, Jessica had immediately told me that she was needing help caring for her nephew in the wake of her father, Roy's diagnosis. She wanted to keep him at home, which was both admirable and time-consuming.
I wasn’t prepared for the gigantic background check that I was subjected to. I very quickly learned that my potential employer had some power at the FBI. Jessica had raved to him about me, so he agreed to meet with me. When Jessica told me he worked for the FBI, I was expecting a bureaucrat, kind of short, receding hairline, soft from sitting behind a desk all day.
Aaron Hotchner was none of those things. He was a total cliché; he was tall, dark, and handsome. His eyes were such a deep brown they were almost black, his hair was black, and he towered over me. His hand was firm when he shook mine. I initially thought he didn’t like me because of the scowl he wore on his face; now I knew that was just his default expression. I’m pretty sure he invented Resting Bitch Face. I think it was my meeting with Jack that sealed the deal. We had clicked right away. The 7-year-old was impressed by my knowledge of both DC and Marvel comics. I could still remember our first meeting so clearly; when in a move that I now know is so much like his father, he had asked me an interview question of his own.
“What is Spiderman’s middle name?” the boy had asked with a suspicious squint of his eyes.
This kid is poser checking me, I had thought with amusement. “That would depend on which Spiderman you’re referring to. Assuming it’s Peter Parker, his middle name is Benjamin.”
We were best friends after that.
I loved Jack; I really did. And I was paid well enough that he was the only child I babysat for, the rest of my time spent working on my research and plotting my dissertation. It was clear that Aaron Hotchner loved his son, and he felt guilty for not being around more. He was fierce and intimidating any other time, but once he was with his son, his entire face would transform. His smiles came easier, his eyes twinkled, and he didn’t seem so scary anymore.
None of that is why he made me nervous, though. What made me so nervous is the fear that one day I was going to spend enough time with him for him to see the feelings I had so stupidly developed for him.  
--
The very next night, I was hiding in the kitchen floor in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment.
“Ready or not, here I come!” the little voice called out before his feet started stomping loudly across the floor.
From my position behind the kitchen counter, I tried very hard to remain silent, despite my amusement. Jack Hotchner was many wonderful, wonderful things. Sneaky was not one of them. Which is why I wasn’t surprised when I heard his little feet hurry towards me, and I didn’t lose my balance when he turned the corner and launched himself at me. “Oomph!” was the only reasonable sound to make when a tiny human slammed into you.
Jack was delighted. “I FOUND YOU!”
My response was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. Jack was off me in a flash, barreling towards the living room. “Daddy!”
Mr. Hotchner made a similar “oomph” noise when Jack jumped on him, confirming my theory. I rose to my feet quickly, smoothing down my clothes.
“We were playing hide and seek, Daddy!” Jack informed his father. “I found y/n every time! She never found me once!” His chest puffed out with pride, making my face break into a smile.
“You’re just an excellent hider, Jack-attack.”
Mr. Hotchner’s eyes settled on my face then, for just a moment I saw something so sad in those eyes that the breath seized in my lungs.
He cleared his throat, seeming to shake off whatever he was thinking before smiling at his son. “I’m glad you had a good time with, y/n, buddy.”
Jack nodded vigorously. “I helped make dinner!”
“You did?” He questioned in fake astonishment. “When did you make dinner?”
“Tonight!”
Mr. Hotchner looked at me quizzically. “Oh, um, I wasn’t actually supposed to watch Jack tonight…but Jessica called and asked if I could. It was really last minute, and she’d already bought some stuff to make dinner…” I trailed off. “I hope that’s okay. Jesus Christ, y/n. You’re a 26-year-old woman, get it together.
His attention moved from me to his son. "Jack, go get changed into your pj's. It's almost bedtime." When Jack's mouth opened to protest this great injustice, his father went on. "You can tell y/n bye when you're done."
So much for a speedy escape, I thought. Instead, I just smiled at him. "Yep, I'll be right here, little man." Satisfied with this, Jack jumped out of his father's arms and ran towards his room.
“Why did Jessica need you to come over? Did something happen with Roy?” He looked genuinely worried, walking into the kitchen to stand near me.
I reached out and put a hand on his arm without thinking. "Oh, oh god no, nothing like that." Realizing I was touching him, I snatched my hand back like he'd burned me. "Sorry. She…she-um had a date."
His eyebrows rose so high they almost hit his hairline. “A date?” he asked, disbelief dripping from his words.
I chuckled. “That’s what she told me.”
He walked back into the living room then, leaning back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he focused his dark gaze on me. “What about you?”
“…What about me what?”
“Does Jessica ever have to cover for you when you have dates?”
If Aaron Hotchner hadn’t made me so nervous, I might have picked up on how he phrased that question. As it happens, all I could do was fidget under his gaze. “Oh,” I chuckled nervously. “Ah, no. She doesn’t have to do that. I don’t really date.”
That had one of his eyebrows rising, his arms crossing across his chest. "Why?"
Because I want you to crack my back like a glowstick. “Um…you know, it’s hard to find the time.”
Thankfully Jack chose that moment to come barreling out of his room, charging full force at me. “You’re still here!” he exclaimed.
I smiled down at him when his arms wrapped around my hips. I put one hand on the back of his head, the other on his back, giving him a squeeze. “Of course I am! I couldn’t leave without telling you goodbye.”
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he mumbled.
My throat worked as a sudden wave of emotion hit me. "Oh, Jack," my voice was thicker than usual when I spoke. "I don't like leaving you either, but you'll see me before you know it. I promise."
Once we had finally pried Jack off me, Mr. Hotchner went to take him to bed. He turned to me when he scooped Jack up in his arms. “Thank you for today.”
“It’s no problem, Mr. Hotchner.”
“You know you don’t have to call me that,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “Most people call me Hotch. Or you could call me Aaron.”
I didn't know what to say to that; all I could do was give him an awkward smile. I was gone before he came back into the living room. I didn't want to leave, I never did, but I couldn't risk being alone with…Aaron.
--
The following Thursday night, my phone started ringing just after 11:30. Glancing at it, I saw it was Jessica. “Hey,” I said in greeting.
“Hey, y/n,” she said, sounding frazzled. “I have a huge favor to ask. Dad’s home health nurse had to leave early tonight.” “Is something wrong with Melinda?” I hope not. She’s the sweetest.
“No, I don’t think so. But she needs to go home and there’s no one to sit with Jack. But Aaron isn’t home yet…”
“I’ll be there in 20.”
Which is why I was now in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment after midnight in a pair of shorts that were so short I only ever wore them at home and a t-shirt that I had had for forever. Jessica had sounded so upset when she called, I hadn't even thought to change. She had promised to be back as quick as she could; she said that Mr. Hotchner was flying back from a case, and she didn’t expect him until 5 a.m. at the earliest.
When I first arrived, I had tried to watch TV, my mind too wired to sleep, even though I had class at 9 am in the morning. Sighing, I glanced over at the clock to see it was just after 1:45 in the morning.
“Fuuuuuuck,” I whined out loud. I have to go to sleep; even if it’s just a little nap. I remembered Jessica had left some chamomile tea here for the nights she stayed over to watch Jack. Finding the kettle and the tea itself was no problem; the problem presented itself when I had to get a mug to put the tea in.
I had never considered myself a particularly short person; sure, I had to stretch to get things from time to time, but everybody did that. Looking up into the upper cabinets in the Hotchner house had me reconsidering that. The mugs were on the very top shelf and try as I might, I just couldn’t seem to reach them; my fingers kept grazing over the ceramic.
“Goddamnit,” I mumbled in a huff. What is the point to put mugs way the fuck up there? Some of us are a perfectly normal height…but noooo I have to work for giants. I braced my hands on the countertop as I heaved myself up on to said countertop. Once my knees were in place, I got the offending cup without further problems.
I blame how focused I was on my task for my not hearing the front door open, or the footsteps that followed. Which is why I had a mild heart attack when I heard a voice that sounded highly amused say from behind me, “What are you doing?”
Several things happened all at once, and very quickly. I let out the most embarrassing squeak in all of history, I lost my balance on the counter and the cup fell from my hand. The cup crashed to the floor and shattered. My fate might have been the same but two large hands caught me, gripping my hips from behind. I looked down to see his long fingers wrapping around my waist, gripping me tightly; my difficulty breathing then had nothing to do with how scared I was.  
“I’m sorry,” Aaron said softly, still not releasing me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, I get it,” I said lightly, attempting to act like I wasn’t going into cardiac arrest because he was touching me. “You’re a very stealthy FBI agent. It was bound to happen.”
He chuckled before his hands pushed my hips so I was twisting around, my legs shifting until I was sitting on the countertop, staring into the same dark eyes I thought about far too often. They weren’t as harsh as they usually were; tonight, they were soft and warm, and they made my pulse race a bit faster.
I moved to get off the counter when the hands that were still on my hips stopped me. “Hang on, let me clean this up first. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Fantastic, I thought, hiding my face in my hands. It seems I was incapable of not making a fool out of myself in front of this man.
He worked quickly while I debated changing my name and fleeing the country; in the next moment, he was standing in front of me again. "What's wrong?"
“Oh, nothing,” I said, not moving my hands. “Just dying of embarrassment.”
Aaron actually laughed at that, moving closer to stand between my thighs, his hands coming to rest on the countertop on either side of my hips. “Why are you embarrassed?”
I dropped my hands then. “Because this is becoming a pattern! First, I fell asleep on your couch, then I almost fell off your counter and cracked my head like an egg.” I bit my lip, shifting under his gaze. “I’m sorry and thank you for catching me.”
“I didn’t mind,” he said softly.
He still had that soft look on his face, but he was smiling too like he was enjoying my embarrassment. He probably is. I had never been this close to him before. I didn’t know his eyes weren’t just one flat color of brown, but that lighter shades of brown whirled throughout. I had never felt the heat of his body before, but now I was so close I could smell him. Why does he have to smell good? I whined internally. If he just stunk, I could get over this.
This was exactly why I tried very hard to stay as far away from him as possible because I lost the ability to think clearly whenever I was with him. I couldn't stop my eyes from moving down to his lips. I was eye level with him from my position on the counter; all I had to do to brush my lips across his was lean forward, so that’s exactly what I did. His body stiffened slightly at the first touch of my lips to his. I pulled back, ready to apologize when his hand wrapped around the back of my head and pulled me back to him. There was nothing soft about this kiss. His free hand gripped my thigh, my hands held on to his shirt, trying to pull him closer. My tongue brushed against his mouth before he sucked on the tip of it, causing me to shudder. He took a step forward as his tongue twirled around mine. I could feel him when he settled against me; he was hard, and I found myself shifting my hips to rub against him.
The shrill ringing of his phone broke us apart suddenly. He was panting, his cheeks were slightly flushed. I thought I heard him let out a “fuck” under his breath as he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone.
“Hey Jessica,” he answered.
Now that our moment was broken, I felt very self-conscious. What the fuck did I just do?! He is my boss. He is Jack’s dad. Aaron took a step back and I slid off the counter. This turned out to be a very bad idea on my part; my body brushed down the front of his, causing me to bite my lip to silence the moan that threatened to escape.
“Yeah, I landed a little while ago,” he said as I left the kitchen.
WhatthefuckWhatthefuck. I heard him end the call with Jessica before he quickly walked into the living room. A look of relief washed over his face when he saw me. “I thought you’d try to slip away.”
“I thought about it,” I told him honestly.
“Listen, y/n, about that in the kitchen,” he began.
I held up my hands. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hotchner. I don’t know why I did that; I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I was giving him an out because I couldn’t handle hearing the rejection I knew was coming. “I just…I guess we got caught up in the moment? And you’re really tired, I’m sure. I’m so sorry.” I was rambling now. “If you don’t want me to watch Jack anymore-“
“Y/n, no,” he interrupted. “No, this…you’re right, it was just a heat of the moment thing. It happens. I’m sorry I lost myself for a moment.” He cleared his throat, his face still set in softness. “Jack loves you. He doesn’t need to suffer for any more of my mistakes.”
Mistakes. The word hollowed me out and left me cold. I just nodded. “Right,” I said in what I hoped was an even tone. “Just a mistake. I should get going. It’s really late.”
Which is how I found myself driving home at almost 3 in the morning with tears running down my cheeks. A mistake.
--
Things went back to normal after that night. I continued to avoid Aaron Hotchner at all costs and he…did whatever he did. I tried to hide the hurt whenever I did happen to see him, but it was so hard when I could still feel the tingle from his lips on mine.
A few days after the “mistake,” I was babysitting Jack again. He’d went to bed at his normal 8:30 and all was quiet. I decided to do some TA work while I waited for Mr. Hotchner to come home. I was halfway through grading an essay when I heard the first noise come from Jack’s room. Lifting my fingers from the keys of my computer, I waited to see if I heard another sound. I didn’t have to wait long; not even a minute passed before I heard a strained cry. Jumping up, I hurried down the hall to Jack’s bedroom.
Cracking the door open I called, “Jack-attack? Are you okay, little man?” I didn’t see him right away; he had hidden under his covers and curled up into a little ball. “Hey, Jack. It’s just y/n.” I sat down on the edge of his bed. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
I saw the lump under the blankets start to move hesitantly before I saw his brown hair peak out of the blanket near his pillow. His eyes were wide and with the light shining in from the hall, I could see tears gleam in them. “Oh, buddy,” I cooed. “Did you have a bad dream?”
The boy nodded. “Yeah…there was a bad man…and my daddy didn’t come save me.”
I felt my breath seize in my chest. Jessica had told me a brief version of what happened to Jack's mother a few years ago. "Jack, you know your dad would always do whatever he had to do to come to save you." I shifted my position on the bed until I was sitting beside him. "He'd never let anything bad happen to you." Jack started inching closer to me. I held out my arms and smiled when he lunged for me; I wrapped him in a tight hug, rubbing circles on his back.
“My dad just isn’t home a lot anymore. He has a lot of work to do,” he mumbled into my shirt.  
“Your dad would be home if he could, Jack.” I couldn’t quite keep the sadness out of my voice. It wasn’t fair to either Jack or his dad that he had to be away so much.
“I know,” the little boy whispered. “I just miss him sometimes.”
“Do you want to call him?” I offered. “I don’t think he’d mind.”
Jack just shook his head. “No, it’s okay.” He turned his face up to look at me. “Will you stay with me?”
I moved so he lay beside me with my left arm still squeezed around him. “Of course, bud.” I scooted down the bed so I was reclining instead of sitting straight up, pulling the cover-up over him again. "Do you want me to read you another story?"  
He just shuffled under his covers, looking at me with the bashful innocence of childhood. “Can you sing to me until I fall asleep?”
I wasn’t the biggest fan of singing in front of people, but how could I turn this little face down? I just nodded. “Do you have any requests?”
“Nope,” he answered with a little grin on his face.
Unfortunately, at that moment every single lullaby I had ever know left my head. I couldn’t think of a single traditional lullaby. So, I decided to improvise. I started singing slower songs I knew, some of them might not have been appropriate for a 7-year-old’s lullaby, but I don’t think Jack cared that much.
He was almost out, drifting on the edge between deep sleep and awake. My arm was still around his shoulder, he was still snuggled to my side. I decided one more song would be enough, which meant I pulled out my second Beatles song of the night.
“Who knows how long I’ve loved you?
You know I love you still.
Will I wait a lonely lifetime?
If you want me to, I will.
For if I ever saw-“
I glanced up, immediately sensing there was someone else in the room. To my horror, Jack’s father was standing in the doorway, staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. I swallowed nervously, then I turned to press a kiss against Jack’s soft forehead before I gently detangled myself from him. I straightened my clothes that to my further embarrassment had shifted around because I was laying with a wiggly child, then, attempting to keep my face impassive, I walked to the door, moving around his father as I exited.
Mr. Hotchner walked into the room and checked on his son, while I moved into the living room to gather my things. I wonder if he just left the money by the door, I mused. If he did, I could just make a dash for the door. I mean, if he didn’t, he could always just pay me next time. Sadly, my plans were escape were foiled yet again by the man in question entering the room.
"Sorry," I muttered. "I know he was up past his bedtime. I put him down at 8, but he had a nightmare." I was babbling, not meeting his eyes, my gaze very intently focused on my bag. "He asked me to stay with him until he fell asleep…" I finally looked up, shrugged, and said, "He's very hard to say no to."
“You don’t have to apologize for being nice to my son, y/n,” he said softly. “That’s one of my favorite songs on the White Album, you know.”
I hadn’t known that. “Mr. Hotch-“
He took a step towards me before I finished speaking. “Y/n, please, I can barely handle this as it is. Please call me Aaron.”
I just blinked up at him. “So, ‘Hotch’ is off the table now?”
That had a soft smile curving his lips upward. "That was a limited-time deal. You should have been quicker." I saw his hand rise up slowly, so slowly that I would have had time to move away…but I just couldn’t. He brushed my hair back from my face, his eyes were two pools of black in the dim light, they were swirling with something that made my stomach flutter.
“Aaron,” I breathed, having no idea what I was going to say.
He let out a soft sigh, turning his eyes upwards. When he brought them back down to mine, his hand slid from its place near my ear to cradle the back of my head. His eyes searched mine for a moment before his shoulders dropped slightly. “Fuck it,” he muttered before he leaned down and sealed his lips over mine.
I might have thought this kiss would be questioning or unsure, but there was nothing unsure about it. Aaron kissed me like he was starving for me. His teeth caught my bottom lip and tugged as he pulled away. “It wasn’t a mistake,” he breathed before bringing his lips more firmly against mine.
My hands began to move over his body; one of my hands grabbed his tie and used it to pull him closer to me, the other reached up to brush against the short, soft hair on the back of his neck. “It wasn’t?” I questioned when we broke away for air.
Aaron’s lips moved across my cheek, leaving soft kisses until he reached my ear. “No, sweet girl, it wasn’t.” His mouth moved down to my neck; his kisses turning into bites that were sure to become brushes. I didn’t care, I needed him. My hands moved to his shirt, quickly trying to undo all the buttons.
His hands moved down to the waist of my jeans, deftly flicking the button open before sliding the zipper down. “Is this what you want?” he asked as his hand touched my lower stomach, his fingers brushing over the elastic band of my panties.
“Yes,” I said, still working to free him from his shirt. “I want this so much.”
The fingers of his free hand rose up to tap my chin, forcing my eyes up until I met his gaze. "I want to hear you say my name again." His other hand lifted from my stomach to slide over the flair of my hip until he was gripping my ass. "Whenever I laid in bed that night after I had you pressed against me in my kitchen when I stroked my cock, I thought about you moaning my name.” The hand that was on my chin pulled away, skimming down my body until he was grabbing the other side of my ass. “So, say it. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you, Aaron.” So, so much.
His hands moved to the backs of my thighs, then he lifted me up his body, startling me. Jesus Christ, how strong is this guy? I threw my arms around his neck as he started walking us down towards his bedroom. A giggle escaped my lips. “I could have walked, you know.”
We had already entered his room; he tossed me gently on the bed before he turned to close and lock the door. He walked to stand at the side of his bed, his eyes devouring me. “I couldn’t give you a chance to sneak away again, sweet girl.” Aaron pulled off his tie before he finished unbuttoning his shirt, shedding it on the floor.
Fuck. Fuck, he’s hot. I pulled my own shirt over my head, and his body was on top of me before it even left my hands. Aaron's mouth moved down to my collarbones, his hand slipped behind my back to unhook my bra. Once the straps were down my arms, Aaron lifted himself up on his arms to toss it away, his eyes running over my body. "You're so beautiful," he said softly like it wasn't the sweetest compliment I'd ever been paid. He leaned over again, his lips skimming down to my chest before he wrapped his lips around one of my nipples.
“Fuck, Aaron,” I moaned.
He gave my nipple a flick with his tongue before he lifted his head. “Ssh, sweet girl. You have to be quiet. Can you do that?” He kissed his way over to my other breast. “I can’t do this if you won’t be quiet.”
“I can be quiet,” I whispered right before I bit my lip to smother my moan at the feeling of his mouth on me. “Maybe.”
His breath puffed against my skin when he laughed at me. My hands threaded through his hair when he brought his face back up to mine. My mouth opened eagerly for him, my tongue slicking over his while I tried to grind my body against him. Aaron was smiling when he broke the kiss, shifting up onto his knees. “Well, I appreciate you trying to be quiet at any rate,” he teased.
My response died in my throat when his fingers yanked my jeans off my legs, bringing my panties with them. I was totally bare in front of him. His eyes raked down my body in a way that would make me self-conscious with anyone else. How could I ever be self-conscious with a man who looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world?
But when he started to kiss further down my body, I grabbed his arm, attempting to pull him back up to kiss me. “Aaron,” I whispered.
He pressed a soft kiss to my collarbone. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”
“You don’t…you don’t have to do…that,” I mumbled, feeling my face heat up.
Aaron braced himself on his arms and stared down at me. Enlightenment dawned on his face a second later. He leaned down to kiss me softly. “Do you not want me to?”
I bit my lip, feeling more flustered. “It’s just…I’ve never…and I know that guys don’t really like-.“ My words were cut off when he placed another kiss to my lips, still incredibly soft, but with more force than before.
"If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't," he said quietly. "But I can assure you, I can't think of anything more I'd rather do than lick your pussy until you cum all over my face." He skimmed his lips over my cheek to my ear. "And once you've come down, I want to slide my cock inside you and feel how soft and wet you are." His kisses moved down to my neck, his mouth sucking on my pulse point. "Then I want to fuck you until you're whimpering against my lips to make you cum again.”
I felt my core throb at his words. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. He lifted his gaze when he got back to my breast, flicking my nipple with his tongue. “Is that what you want too, sweet girl?”
I have never wanted anything more, I thought; but I was so far gone that all I could do was nod.
He gave me a soft smile, moving down the bed further to settle between my thighs, pulling them further apart. I felt a kiss pressed to one thigh, then the other. His hot breath washed over the part of me that was already so wet for him. “You’re beautiful here too,” he murmured before he pressed a kiss to my clit. I lifted my hips at the sensation, causing him to chuckle and move his hands to wrap around my thighs, his arms anchoring me in place. A second later I understood why he braced my hips. The second he flattened his tongue and licked the length of my pussy, my hips started moving involuntarily and my fingers tangled in his hair.
I felt a puff of air against me when he laughed again, and it made me smile. I didn’t expect Aaron Hotchner to be fun…or dirty in bed. All thought immediately left my head when he parted me with his tongue, dipping into my entrance before spearing his tongue into me. I felt the vibration when he moaned against me. "You taste so fucking good, y/n," he said, his voice still hushed. Giving my entrance one last lick, he moved up to my clit.
He spent time moving his tongue around me, learning what made me squirm. When he started fluttering his tongue quickly over my clit my hands started tugging on his hair and my thighs tried to snap together.
“Aaron,” I whined, attempting to rock my hips against his mouth.
I think he understood what I needed better than I did. His left hand released my thigh and moved down to my heat, just below his mouth. I felt his fingers brush over me before he pushed on inside me, causing my back to arch off the bed. “Aaron, Aaron, fuck.” He added a second finger, pumping them in a rhythm that complimented the movements of his mouth.
I wasn't prepared for when his lips closed around my clit, sucking lightly, while his fingers started to curl inside of me. “Oh my God," I moaned out, louder than I should have. "Aaron, I'm going to cum." I started pulling on his hair so hard it must have hurt, but he just moaned against me, never slowing his pace. "Aaron, fuck, please. I think…I-I-“
My words broke off as the band inside of me snapped, my pussy clamping down on his fingers and my back arching off of the bed, my mouth hanging open in a silent scream.
Aaron slowed his motions, slowly bringing me through the orgasm and back down to Earth. With one final kiss to my thigh, he rose and moved up my body until his face was hovering over mine. His lips were shiny with my arousal, they also looked a little swollen, but more importantly, they were smirking at me.
I’ll give him that one. Reaching up I cradled his jaw in my hands, bringing his mouth down to mine. I tasted myself on his lips and tongue when he licked into my mouth. Despite the powerful orgasm he had just given me, I was still desperate for him. I broke away from his mouth. “Aaron, I need you.”
He pressed another kiss to my lips before he lifted up and stood at the side of the bed, undoing the buckle of his belt. My eyes were fixed on his movements, watching as he unbuttoned his slacks and slid them down his legs. His cock was a thick pipe outlined in his underwear. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband before he spoke again. "I'll give you everything you need, greedy girl." Aaron pushed his underwear down, his cock springing free before he climbed back on the bed.
He was so much thicker than I expected he would be. I moved my hand down to wrap my fingers around him, pumping his length. He let out a groan and lowered his forehead to mine. “Baby,” he muttered. “I…fuck. I have to get a condom.”
“Aaron,” I whined. “I want to feel you inside me. I’m on birth control. Please?” The thought of anything separating me from this man was abhorrent to me in that moment.
I saw his willpower crumble. “Are you sure?”
So sure. “Please,” I begged lifting my head to kiss him. “I want you to fuck me.”
With a groan that I will remember for the rest of my life, he shifted his hips forwarded, allowing my hands to guide him to my entrance. Aaron kissed me then, slowly and deeply has he started to push inside me. My hand flew away from his cock, both my arms wrapping around his body to pull him closer to me. I felt my nails digging into his back.
Aaron broke our kiss with another soft moan that sounded like my name. “I knew you’d feel like this,” he whispered, pressing deeper inside me. “I knew your pussy would be this fucking tight, this fucking hot, and so fucking soft." He started moving in and out of my pussy, going in a little further each time. “You still have to be quiet, sweet girl.”
“I’m trying,” I moaned, my pussy already starting to flutter around him when he finally pushed all the way inside of me. “Aaron, fucking Christ.” I felt him everywhere, and I somehow still craved more.
He grabbed my thigh, pulling if further up his side, allowing himself to sink deeper inside of me. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” He started a slow pace, pulling almost all the way out of me before slamming back inside me.
My head was thrashing against the pillows, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. “Aaron, I need you to fuck me harder. Please.”
He groaned at my words, placing a sloppy kiss to my mouth before pulling back. He pulled one of my legs up until it was over his shoulder, the other still wrapped around his waist, and then he started to move faster inside of me.
I braced one hand against the headboard as he pounded into me. “Oh my god, Aaron,” my voice was a low whimper as I looked down to see his cock sliding in and out of me. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Baby, I want you to reach down and rub your clit for me while I fuck your tight little pussy.” His pace started to speed up as he spoke. “Can you do that for me?” He groaned when I complied, the stimulation to my clit causing my pussy to flutter around him. “Good girl.”
My fingers began to work frantically. “Don’t stop, Aaron. Don’t stop,” I begged. “I’m so close.”
“I know, sweet girl, I can feel you. Your pussy feels so good squeezing around my cock. You’re going to make me cum.” His thrusts were starting to get choppier, one of his hands braced on the top of the headboard while the other held my leg on his shoulder. “Do you want me to cum inside your pretty pussy, sweet girl?” He groaned loudly when my walls clenched around him. “It feels like you like the idea of that, don’t you baby?”
My fingers continued their pace, my head thrashing, my body trembling. “Yes. Fuck, Aaron. Please cum inside of me. Please.”
Aaron felt it first and acted quickly; his hand moved from my leg to cover my mouth. “That’s it, cum for me, baby.”
I thought my orgasm earlier tonight was powerful. It was nothing compared to how I felt when I came around his cock, only to feel him find his own release a moment after.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, y/n,” he breathed, giving a last few jerks inside of my body, pushing against the fluttering aftershocks of my orgasm. He rolled off me, careful not to drop all of his weight on top of me. To my relief, he quickly gathered me in his arm, pulling me against his body, pressing a soft kiss to my sweaty forehead.
My ear was pressed against his chest, allowing me to hear his heartbeat slowdown from its frantic pace and his breathing even out. I turned my head and pressed a kiss to his chest while his hand continued to stroke my back.
“That…that was amazing,” I said, looking up at him. “If I knew you had that in you, I wouldn’t have run out of the room every time I was alone with you.”
He laughed softly, his eyes sparkling. “Well, at least you’ll know for next time.”
My thoughts sobered at his words. Next time
“Hey,” he said, his hand cupping the side of my face. “No, don’t go away. I just got you.” He kissed my forehead again, then the tip of my nose, then both of my eyelids, before he tilted my face up further so he could press a kiss to my lips. “We’ll figure this out. We have to. I care too much about you to let you go.”
“I care about you too,” I replied, snuggling against his chest, my eyes suddenly feeling heavy.
I was almost asleep when I heard his voice rumble again. “Will you sing Beatles songs to me when I can’t sleep too?” His voice was sleepy and teasing.
I smiled into the darkness, not bothering to open my eyes. “If you want me to, I will.”
--
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carnationcreation · 4 years
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Hey there, I love you and your work so so much!!
I was wondering if you could write a Mighty Ducks imagine, about your favorite duck-i just low key wanna know who your favorite is- that is set in the second movie where the reader is new to the team and it kinda starts off as them not liking each other to them kissing? If you need any more ideas I’d be happy to help!!
 TITLE: Pride (Adam Banks x reader)
✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!
Request: Hey there, I love you and your work so so much!!I was wondering if you could write a Mighty Ducks imagine, about your favorite duck-i just low key wanna know who your favorite is- that is set in the second movie where the reader is new to the team and it kinda starts off as them not liking each other to them kissing? If you need any more ideas I’d be happy to help!!
Prompt/summary:  Adam finally has to admit to his pride after he’s injured.
Word Count: 1,298
Authors note: Set in D2! Also I had such a hard time picking cause I love Charlie, Adam, and Luis but I decided to go with my first boy crush from the films! For the vibes listen to Take Yours by Matthew Mole it’s so cute!
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My laces were tied so tight I could feel the pressure right on top of my foot as I charged Julie in the goal, she barely caught the puck from my slapshot to the top right corner.
“Ugh, almost had it,” I groaned.
“Maybe one day (Y/l/n),” Julie said. I couldn’t see her face because of the goalie mask but I’m sure she had a shit-eating grin on.
I never thought I would make it here, representing my state for the US youth hockey team for the Junior Olympics. The day I got the call I almost passed out from the excitement and anxiety, and today I almost puked getting out of bed as I thought about how I needed to be on my best game if I wanted to make a good impression on the team I would be joining. 
I saw the whole team walk in, the green jersey was almost a threat. Something I could join but never truly be a part of. I felt that anxiety build up again when I saw they were watching me as I skated down the ice.
Tibbles began to introduce each of us giving us a chance to show off our best skill.
Julie went first, her speed and accuracy in goal made her a vital member to the team. If we were going to stand a chance against Iceland then we needed her.
“And that’s (Y/n) (Y/l/n), everyone calls her Sharpshooter though.”
“Why’s that?” Bombay asked.
“Just watch,” Tibbles nodded, “She’s the only person that’s been able to score on Gaffney.”
My heart raced as I skated quickly up to the goal, aiming on Julie’s stick side, right in the corner I knew she was weakest on.
“Cheap shot (Y/l/n)!” she yelled causing me to laugh as I threw my arms up in victory.
Tibbles waved me over.
“So what makes you so important?” Bombay asked me, “We have about 3 sharpshooters on my team. Why do we need you?”
I stood there in shock, not able to respond as I racked my brain for an answer, “I- well have any of your boys managed to score on Gaffney yet?”
“No, but they will be able to.”
“After how long? I’ve known Gaffney for maybe 30 minutes and I’m already scoring. From what I can tell your boys rely mostly on strength, put anyone up against me and I can show you how accurate I am.”
Bombay smirked, “I like this kid.”
I couldn’t help but smile as Tibbles let me skate back over to Gaffney.
“Look at the boys,” she smirked.
I gave her a confused look.
“Attractive, presumably single hockey players? Might be able to get ourselves a date.”
“Oh shut up,” I shoved her shoulder, “We should be thinking about Hockey, not getting some stupid guys to go out with us. Besides, dating a teammate would just be... weird.”
Julie rolled her eyes, “Oh whatever.”
I laughed and gave the team one final look. My eyes fell on two boys standing near the edge of the group, I assumed one, if not both, was the captain.
“Who’re those boys? Near the edge?”
Julie smirked, “Conway and Banks. The two star players.”
“Oh.”
“Who do you think is cuter?” 
I swallowed hard, “Honestly hard to tell. They both give off different vibes.”
“I thought you said dating a teammate would be ‘weird’“ Julie laughed.
“Listen,” I smiled, “I can look at the menu, I just won’t order.”
Julie let out a cackle and skated away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The tension between the groups finally bubbled over and I was swept in by someone insulting Julie.
“She’s a lot better than you bus boy!” I yelled in the other goalies face.
“I’d block any of your shots any day (Y/l/n)!” he said.
“Wanna test that theory?” I said, apparently I had this fiery look in my eyes cause when Julie pulled me back I saw how terrified the goalie looked causing me to laugh.
Banks skated over, “You really think you’re hot shit huh?”
“Oh please,” I scoffed, “I know I’m hot shit. How many state titles have you one pretty boy?”
I mentally slapped myself. Pretty boy? Really? Best you could come up with?
Adam smirked, “I’d take you on anytime princess.”
“Bring it on.”
Eventually Bombay broke us all apart.
“Now we didn’t come here to fight! We came to play Hockey. We’re team USA. You represent your country!”
Julie and I giggled at the looks on the players faces. 
Adam turned to me, “SHH!”
I rolled my eyes in return.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After the first practice we all seemed to get along better. The girls all went out shopping together on the weekends leading to us getting close quick. Adam and I had a competition going of who could make the best trick shot, which Julie kept saying was ‘tension’. 
We finally made it to our game against Germany. The summer had seemed to go by in an instant and I knew after the championship I would have to be bussed right back home to Boringtown USA. 
I walked into the locker room after workouts, I stayed afterwards to work on my shot more. I turned the corner and saw Adam wrapping his wrist up, he winced.
“Adam?”
He jumped and looked up, “It’s not- (Y/n) don’t you dare tell coach.”
“What’d you do?”
Adam sighed, “In the last game, the dude that hooked my wrist with his stick. It’s just a little sore I promise-”
“Adam,” I said gently grabbing hist wrist to examine it, “You might’ve sprained it. If you keep playing on it it could get worse, you might not be able to play anymore.”
“It’s fine. I’ll get it checked out after the seasons over with.”
“That’s self destructive. You can’t set aside your pride for a minute just to get it looked at?” I knew to get him to see how ridiculous he was being I’d have to rile him up a little.
He scoffed, “I’m prideful? Have you even looked at yourself sharpshooter? You think you’re better than everyone and-”
“Adam this isn’t about me, or even you. It’s about the team. And if you have to get benched for longer than necessary just because you ignored an injury than that’s gonna be the whole teams problem.”
Adam sighed, “Fine. But I better not hear a word from you about it.”
“And on the topic of me being better than everyone, I’ve never thought that. I just didn’t feel like I fit in.”
“What are you talking about?” he said, “You fit in fine. You’re just constantly pushing yourself to where everyone feels like you’re full of it. A lot of people are jealous.”
“Jealous?” I cocked my head to the side.
“Yeah.”
I looked at him confused, “Of what?”
“Just- you’re constantly finding things to improve. You’re just the person who doesn’t realize just how good you are sometimes. To the point where it’s almost annoying. Yeah it’s like you think you’re better but at the same time you’re never the best. And it’s infuriating when all I can think about in practice is impressing you-”
“Impressing me?” I smile.
“I- uh. Yes. Impressing you.”
“Adam,” I chuckle, “Everyone on this team thinks you’re amazing. Myself included.”
“Amazing?”
“Yeah,” I chuckle. 
He stands up and walks over to stand in front of me, I look up into those bright blue eyes I could never seem to avoid. I gently grab his wrist, “Let’s go get this checked out by the trainer okay?”
“Okay,” he says as I started to lead him down the hallway, “And (Y/n)?”
I turned back to him.
He quickly leaned forward to press a quick kiss on my lips, “I think you’re pretty amazing too.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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406 notes · View notes
aetherarf · 3 years
Note
TW: suicide attempt
Can I please get some hurt comfort for VenDil where Venti goes back to angel's share to get something he left behind, but comes in on Diluc about to drink some alchohol but Venti stops them(because he knows about his allergies)?
I can't quite word the rest of the idea right, but if you need more prompting I can give it.
Oh that's plenty... i do love me some angst... :)
I tweaked it so Venti walked in after Diluc drank some but... Well you'll see. (No death)
[[ WARNING: SUICIDE ATTEMPT, SELF HARM ]]
[[ Summary: Chance. That's all it was, when Venti left his lyre in the Angel's Share, to see Diluc in a very dark moment...
Word Count: 3'709 ]]
"Ah crud."
Venti patted over himself, as though he could have managed to hide his lyre in a pocket, or it was draped off of him somewhere. He groaned, realizing he had forgotten it somewhere... Again. This is what he got for drinking until he could barely see straight.
Admittedly, the only reason he could see straight was from Diluc forcing him to drink one of those... sobering drinks. It was free... and tasty... And he'd hopefully avoid getting roughed up in a back alley from one too many slurred words.
Actually...
That's likely where is lyre was--That's the last place he remembered seeing it, before that Cavalry Captain--Kaeya--Decided he wanted to see everything go wrong and gave Venti a bottle of wine, as a treat.
Spinning on his heel, bouncing with each step and humming, he found his way back to the Angel's Share. The wind was pleasant--perhaps a bit cold, oh, but on the right day, the wind was just perfect. Nothing was always perfect, and even his own element was no exception...
But, again, things were not perfect, as he looked at the sign... Closed.
... Little bits of light fluttered from beneath the door...
Maybe Diluc was still in there? Maybe he could just go in, whether he's in there or not, and just grab it, Sorry! I just wanted to grab this, I'm leaving I promise I promise.
Diluc may have had a bit of a temper, but he wouldn't punish him for taking something out of the admittedly large box full of lost items.
Grabbing the door, it just made that familiar creek, that was so much more ominous without the bustling nature of the tavern muffling the croaking, and he didn't pay too much mind, just quickly rushing in and shutting it behind him, so no Knights came running, yelling at him for breaking into another building, even if he really didn't have any bad intention!
Diluc, was, in fact there. The sound of a groan, and Venti sighed, "Sorry, Diluc!" He chirped, "I just lost my lyre, I wanted to--AH!"
Venti nearly collapsed, his back slamming to the door as he struggled to stop himself from whiting out so suddenly at the scene before him.
Diluc was half collapsed over the bar, and his hands--bare of the gloves he typically wore, were covered in cuts, likely from the shards of a broken wine glass, that now was shattered on the floor, staining the already stained wood even more... Little bits of blood dripped from his fingertips, and it seemed that there was mouth from his...
Venti was terrified it was from his throat, how it trickled down the side of the bar, pooling on the ground, such a similar yet distinctly different color.
He rushed over, and he, with no small amount of fear of what he would see, grabbed Diluc's hair close to his scalp, lifting up his head--
Diluc's eyes were glazed over--But they focused on Venti's face, dilating as they did so, and from the craned position, Diluc couldn't help but cough, spluttered, a few flecks of blood hitting Venti's face, and more trickling down his lips, down his chin...
But there was no cuts on his throat. That--That gave him a little bit of hope... Should there be, blood was bad, but... Maybe just not seeing a massive wound comforted him a little.
Worse still, Diluc wasn't really responding...
He leapt over the bar, and grabbed fistfuls of Diluc's clothes--Of which had no blood he could see, and tugged him off the front of the bar, until he just slipped to the ground, "Wait, wait wait," A gust of wind stopped Diluc from hitting the ground too hard, and he was able to grab Diluc's head, awkwardly shifting to try and get Diluc on him, to...
Do something. Comfort him? Drag him to the Cathedral? Could he even do that? Archon or not, his body had limits!
Diluc's body... no, Diluc, there was the weak, garbled sound of breathing, and constant, weak coughs that were seldom audible, and more blood trickled from his lips, he not having the force to push it out of his body.
"... I'm sorry, Diluc," Venti whispered, softly, and he focused... forcing some wind down Diluc's throat, just enough to make him breathe, and then Diluc coughed it out violently, making a sound that could only be called a sob.
"No..." Diluc said, at the end of the forced exhale, hunching over with his forehead resting atop Venti's shoulder, hands weakly resting at his sides... He shook his head.
And his breathing didn't seem any better, but he was responding. His mind was there.
Venti had seen those who's brains had been broken from a lack of breathing, a partial drowning, or being choked too long... Oftentimes, they would vomit, and then... if they survived, they were not human.
But Diluc was there, there was no vomit... Just... blood.
Only now Venti noticed the blood in his clothes, but he just sighed with a weak, trembling smile.
Oh well.
"Diluc, focus on breathing." Venti scolded, "What happened? You..."
Venti was silenced by his own thoughts.
Broken wine glass, spilled wine well after closing hours, no sign of a damaged bottle.
Hands cut up...
...
Suicide.
No, no, this wasn't suicide, for Diluc was alive. Venti reached to one of Diluc's hands, turning it gently, to try and get a better look at it...
As he expected, there was cuts. They were deep, and from the reddened shards of glass scattered on the ground, he could take a guess that it was not only wine coating them, but blood.
The worst of it all was that not even Venti, who the winds had told everything, had no idea he may be brought to this point... Bitterly, he remembered what Vennessa had said, countless years back...
It's always the ones you never expect, they don't want help, so they don't let you know.
How cruel fate was, that her descendant was now the victim of that harsh truth.
"Diluc, please say something," Venti begged, softly, "Anything."
Diluc did not say anything, but he just shook his head against Venti's shoulder. A response was a response, even if it was refusal.
"Okay, we... We need to get you out of here. I don't know if I can carry you, but--" He grabbed Diluc's shirt as tight as he could, until his knuckles almost felt like they were about to crack, and he shifted his legs to try and hoist him up--
But only for Diluc to lean his weight into him with more purpose, until he could barely even keep himself from completely crashing to the ground.
...
So Diluc wasn't going to let him... And it was late. No one would be in earshot if Venti started screaming, and the Anemograna could only harass someone so much, push them around... and usually go forgotten, so he could not beckon those loyal spirits for their assistance.
"Stay," Diluc said, softly, "Don't..." He spluttered out another cough of blood, staining Venti's clothes further. "Don't want... to be..."
"... Alone." Venti finished, feeling Diluc nod against his shoulder again.
For being a lone wolf, so content with existing on his own and surviving like a hardened warrior who needed nothing but his blade, he was still terrifyingly human, still afraid of what he could not control.
Namely, death.
But, besides for someone who could carry him like Wagner, or someone who could heal him like Barbara... he was the next best person to have found him in this time.
With another moment of focus, he forced air into Diluc's lungs, and the result was the same.
He coughed out blood, and sobbed in pain--of course, it wasn't pleasant to have air forced into you, but living wasn't painful.
Especially not when you tried to stop living.
"Stop..." Diluc sobbed, "Just... stop..."
Venti smiled, feeling tears well in his eyes, and he tried to not let his voice crack, and failed, "Oh, I'm sorry, Diluc... I'm so sorry, I can't stop."
Another forced gust into his lungs, another forced cough.
"I must protect my people, and that includes you."
However, this time, DIluc took a labored gasp of air of his own volition, and spoke with the most clarity Venti had heard thus far--
"Bastard."
Venti sighed.
"Yes, I am."
Another forced breath.
"Just keep breathing."
That's all he could do...
And for hours, that's all he did. When Diluc was feeling slack, he jostled him with all the force his body could muster, and when his breathing was too sparse, he forced air into his lungs.
Until the night had passed, and dawn came, and finally, Charles came in, gasping in horror at the scene, and Venti begged for his help.
Knights came, and several sisters had come as well, forcing Diluc out on a stretcher, but he seemed to have gained back some strength, trying to reach Venti through the chaos, and Venti couldn't follow...
He was getting arrested, anyway.
After a lot of sitting and waiting, he was pushed around, and he had been before Jean, who was in great turmoil--For it was assumed that her Archon had nearly killed her friend?
He told him what he saw--but not his theories.
"I wanted to find my lyre," he still didn't have it, "But I saw Diluc collapsed. Then, I just tried to keep him awake and breathing until someone came."
In the end, he was deemed innocent, and he did not sully Diluc's name, everyone content to believe that Diluc was affected by a long-lasting poison, rather than his body rejecting the alcohol his family was known for, and he simply left.
Exhausted from holding up such a heavy man for so long, for having to focus, and honestly, just the emotional distress... He found his way back to Windrise, washing his clothes in the stream that trickled by, hoping that they weren't beyond repair.
Luckily, his cloak had absorbed most of it, and he was currently furiously trying to beat the blood out of it... His arms were so sore, screaming in exhaustion. He would likely wrap himself in his still damp cloak and curl up amongst the roots of the tree, and sleep until his body stopped hurting.
Perhaps, he thought, he should keep thinking about DIluc...
But he was in good hands. Being there wouldn't help anyone, much less him.
Ah, people died. And he couldn't help it...
...
Instead of continuing to think of that thought process, he kept beating the red out of his cloak, until he pulled it out of the water...
Wet, but clean.
He set it over a clean stone, and focused on re-braiding his hair, he having washed the blood off of his body right after he cleaned the clothes closest to his skin.
But, as he was doing so, kicking his feet idly, he heard a voice on the wind.
"Is that your man?"
"Yes, leave."
... Diluc? He sounded... tired. He sounded so raspy. But when Venti looked back, he was walking.
... huh.
How fast people could recover from such horrific things...
"I want to see what this Venti has to say, first."
He quickly finished the second braid, and grabbing his hat to set atop his head, before standing up fully, waving to the two figures--
Ah, that rather unique sister, and Diluc. Figures they wouldn't trust him to be alone...
... Actually, why would they have any issue with him being alone?
Maybe this sister knew the truth.
"Venti," She said, looking down at him.
"The one and only!" Venti puffed out his chest, despite the fact that he definitely didn't look his best, still wet like he had just crawled out of the stream moments prior.
"The Cathedral collectively agreed--" Liar, you sisters can never agree on anything. "That Sir Ragnvindr should be observed for the next day or so to ensure he won't suddenly get ill again. He said you'd be willing to take care of him."
Venti looked over at Diluc, who wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Oh, of course! I'm surprised he's already on his feet, though..." He idly thought, putting his chin on his hand, "Anyway, I'm happy to keep an eye on him for a little bit."
The sister narrowed her eyes, glaring at Venti.
"This isn't some whim," She said, slowly, "There will be consequences if anything happens to him on your watch."
"I wouldn't expect any less, dear sister!" Venti chirped, "I won't let him out of my sight for a second. If I do, strike me down!" He held out his arms, baring his chest to be speared.
But she just hummed.
"Good. Alright, you're free." Just as she came, she was already leaving, and Diluc took a few steps closer to him, watching as she left, before looking down at him.
"... I'm sorry for all that, you know?" Venti said, "I hope I didn't beat you up too much... But I thought it was the best thing I could do."
Diluc made a huff--oh, how nice it was to hear him breathe. Honestly, Venti would be content to hold him and to press his ear against his chest, just to hear that wonderful breath.
"After all that," Diluc said, "You're apologizing to me."
He looked up at the massive, twisting tree, and shook his head.
Venti just shrugged. "I was kind of mean."
"... You saved my life, Venti." Diluc said, finally looking down at him.
"Eh, you're a fighter. You would have made it. I know it."
He lied, but Diluc didn't seem to pick that up.
"I didn't want to fight, and if I'm honest, I still don't." He confessed, with no small amount of pain in his voice, "... I... I should have..."
But he didn't finish his sentence, looking at Venti helplessly, as though he could save him from his own thoughts.
"Hey, come here. Let's sit, take your boots off." Venti walked over to the steam once again, looking at his drying cloak for a second, before taking off his shoes and stockings, setting them off to the side before dipping his feet into the water. "Trust me, it feels nice... and I prooomise I won't splash you!"
Diluc just sighed, and did as he did, sitting beside him, taking off his boots and socks, and let his feet rest in the water.
"Now..." Venti hummed, "There's... a lot of things you want to say, probably," Diluc nodded silently, confirming, "And you don't know how to say them, do you?" Diluc shook his head.
Venti flopped onto his back, feet still in the water, and looked at the leaves above him, the large, coiling branches.
"You can just say what words are in your head, even if they don't make sense. I think you'll feel better getting them out of your mind." Venti advised, and Diluc was silent for a moment, before taking a slow, cautious breath,
"I... Am scared." He finally said, and exhaled as though he confessed a deep secret, "I... I didn't know how this happened."
"You don't know?" Venti asked, not looking at him, "Lie down, come," he patted on the ground behind DIluc's back, and Diluc sighed, and lied down, staring at the sky as well. Venti fumbled for a moment, and found Diluc's hand, holding it.
"I don't. I-I've..."
The rustling of wind through the leaves, not so violent, but present. Just comforting.
"I've been thinking about death a lot." He finally managed, "Not... suicide," he said, straining with the very word, "But death. When fighting, I'd see an axe, flying down to my face," he lifted his hands up above his face, gesturing, "And I'd think, what if I didn't move? What if I just let it cut me in half? But, my body moved before my mind, and I was alright. When I thought it once, I tried to forget it, considering it just a fleeting, random thought..."
He tilted his head to look over at Venti, who looked over at him once again, with that charming, ever-patient smile. He couldn't handle it, and looked back skyward.
"And I found they kept coming. If I fell here, I'd die, and no one would think anything of it... Just little things, how a single wrong step could kill me. But, it got worse... I'd see a shard of glass, If I shoved this into my wrist, I'd bleed out. Or..."
He was silent.
"If I drink this glass of wine, I'll stop breathing."
For a second, it was like the wind stopped, but it continued swiftly after.
"I see," Venti said, softly, "You're... allergic to wine, aren't you?" He asked, curiously, "I had some time to think about it, about why you couldn't breathe."
"Mn... well... Any alcohol. From Snezhayan fire-water to Rum from Sumeru... it all just destroys me from the inside-out."
Venti didn't respond, kicking his feet lightly, the sound of soft splashing water and the wind above.
"But, that's besides the point... I... I didn't want to kill myself," he said, and he was silent, forcing himself to sit up as he looked around. Venti pushed himself up much more lazily, and looked over at Diluc.
"Oh, don't worry. There's no one around. I'd tell you if there was... The winds are keeping track."
Diluc focused on his face... serious, but still pleasant.
He just laid back down, and Venti followed suit, grabbing his hand again. This time, Diluc twisted his wrist around, to grab Venti's hand as well, a tight, near-crushing grip.
"But... I didn't really intend on that. I kept thinking about death, and before I knew it... I made plans. Countless. Some were as simple as finding some forgotten corner of the Winery and drinking some wine and dying in it, but I wouldn't commit... I wouldn't even realize how I found myself following these plans, I would just be standing there, about to take the cork off the bottle... then I'd just go back home and act like nothing happened... maybe abandoning the bottle if I was too worried."
Venti hummed, signalling that he was still listening.
"But I guess... I guess I just... I don't know, I just thought I was thinking of random ideas, but before I knew it, I couldn't... breathe. Everything was so dark and...cold, but then," He lifted his free hand to his hair, "You grabbed my hair, and it was like everything lit up. I just-I could see... I don't know. I'm scared I got to that point without realizing it."
Apparently, Diluc had even more that went unnoticed in his mind than this, for he was very clearly begging Venti to stay while he died. But... there was a silver lining.
It meant that he might be able to find a way to fix his mind. A way to be happy again.
"That is scary," Venti said, "But I could see how you could have gotten to that point... You know..."
Venti sighed.
Now or never.
"... I know what happened to you. All the terrible things you wanted to hide from the world," he let his head loll to the side, and he looked at Diluc, who was looking right back at him--his eyes were wide, and he was afraid...
"But it wasn't because you did a bad job at hiding it... Hiding everything. I just-" he hesitated, "The winds of Mondstadt watch over all its children... and they told me. If it wasn't for them, I would've never known."
Diluc seemed soothed, but only minutely.
"... Why didn't you ever... tell me?" Diluc asked, looking back to the tree.
"I've heard plenty of horrifying things that happened within Mondstadt..." He admitted, "But, I've found out that going and telling them I know oftentimes goes poorly. You didn't want to be known, at the time, you just wanted to feel safe. I think you still just want to feel safe, honestly."
Diluc closed his eyes.
"... I do. I've-I've forgotten what it feels like."
Venti nodded.
"I know. But... that doesn't mean you can't feel safe. And..."
Finally, Venti sat up, looking over Diluc, who just looked up at him, with the wide eyes of a kitten who was finally brought home,
"I want to be there for you, Diluc."
Diluc's fingertips twitched, still holding Venti's hand, and he finally closed his eyes.
"You've done enough for me... Barbados."
Venti clicked his tongue, "Barbados. Funny, I don't remember being Barbados, but if you need a god to feel safe, I'll be there to protect you."
Diluc laughed, weakly... but all too quickly, that laugh turned to the sounds of sobs, and, with his free hand, he moved his hand over his eyes, as though it would hide his pain from him.
Venti moved his arm, forcing Diluc to look at him, "No, no hiding. Not between us. You're safe with me, I promise."
Diluc whimpered softly, finally sitting up, rubbing the tears out of his eye.
"I... I'm so tired," He admitted, weakly, and Venti put his hand on Diluc's thigh.
"Clearly, you've had a... well. You've had a day. Let's bring you back to the Winery and put you to bed, and get this day over with!" He decided, suddenly clapping his hands, and Diluc's hand shot out, nearly grabbing Venti's hand again... but he put it back down, resting on the grass.
"... Will-" He stared, "Will you... stay...? After I fall asleep?"
Venti blinked a few times in surprise, "I don't need to sleep, I'll stay as long as you need me to."
"No," Diluc shook his head, "You... you're tired too. Your eyes are red."
Venti lifted a hand to his cheek, "I guess maybe they are," he wasn't going to fight it, "I can sleep in a chair or something."
Diluc looked... upset at that, almost enough that he was going to start crying.
"... Would you... sleep beside me? I... I'm too scared to be alone."
What an odd request.
"One question," Venti said, a smile on his face, "Do you want to be cuddled?"
Diluc just huffed, and smiled... even as he began to cry a little.
"... I guess I'll figure that out tonight."
66 notes · View notes
Text
Jaune’s Father: “If nothing else, be kind. Kindness costs you nothing, sport”
Weiss: *From underneath many blankets, peeking from behind a comforter* I’m truly sorry, Arc. I had meant to assist you in your dust theory paper, but I’m not feeling terribly well.
Jaune: *Scratches head* Hey, no worries Sn- Weiss. Do you need anything? A hot compress?
Weiss: *Is glad she has a comforter for a shield as she blushes in embarrassment* How! *Coughs, in a normal tone of voice* Excuse me. How did you...
Jaune: I have seven sisters, Weiss.
Weiss: *Nods meekly, still embarrassed* A hot compress would be lovely. I feel awful.
----------------- 
Yang: *Blinks* Is that vomit boy?
Blake: *Reading* You could try calling him by his name.
Yang: You could try acknowledging his existence. *Blake glares, feeling a little guilty*
Cardin: *Walking by* He needed a warm compress.
Yang: What for?
Cardin: *Feeling kinda humbled, a bit envious* Nothin’ serious.
----------------- 
Jaune: *Taking box* Thanks Coco, you’re a lot less scary than Poppy said you were.
Coco: *Lowers her shades* Oh, did snookums slander my good name?
Jaune: *Feels his neck get hot* U-uh, no! Just that you were kinda protective of, um, *lifts box, almost drops it and gives Coco a heart attack* this. Sorry. But really, thanks, it’s really nice of you.
Coco: *Clutching her heart, waves him off* Just tell that leggy blonde she owes me some serious cuddling.
-----------------
Professor Peach: It’s not often I get students actually interested in my hobby.
Jaune: Well, we are all teenagers.
Professor Peach: *Laughs* True enough. Hmm. *Side eyes Jaune* Well, the same can’t be said for you, young man. *Sees Jaune about to protest* I think what you meant to say is you’re all aspiring Huntsmen and Huntresses. Sometimes the future is so bright and shiny to your classmates that they forgot the everyday. It’s quite nice to see that isn’t the case with each of you.
Jaune: *Opens and closes his mouth, shuffles awkwardly*
Professor Peach: *Smiles softly* You have nothing to be embarrassed of, Jaune Arc. Here *carefully hands his request over* exactly as you requested. Have a wonderful day, child.
Jaune: *Nods quickly and walks off*
Professor Peach: And days like today, Rosalie, are why you do this job. *Happily hums as she gets back to work*
-----------------
Jaune: Okay, look, I’m just asking which--
Beryl: *Sighs dramatically* And I’m telling you, kitten *Ignores Jaune’s protests* that they’re all mondo good.
Julie: Like, Bea-Bea’s right. That one *pointing with a fuchsia nail* is just the sweetest thing in the world, will just have you feeling warm and happy inside after.
Cissy: Plus it has just...mmm. Ouch! *Is swatted by Beryl, playfully* You bitch. Anyways, that one right there is just cute and total *squeals* overload. Can’t go wrong with it, it’s a classic.
Beryl: Then that one is probably the safest bet, because who doesn’t love a puppy?
Jaune: A puppy? *Beryl nods* Well, uh, thanks. And I promise I’ll get them back to you by tomorrow. I’ll also see if Ren’s interested, but, uh, maybe keep your semblances ready?
Cissy: *Raises hand* Uh, I haven’t activated mine yet. I’ve just got Nemesis.
Beryl: *Slings arm around Cissy’s shoulders* Don’t worry, kitten, between My House and Julie’s Spit-Spot, plus our weapons we can handle Valkyrie if she gets in a mood.
Jaune: *Deadpan* She was benchpressing one of the academy’s washing machines the other day. No aura.
Julie: We’re good at running away.
Beryl: *Scandalized* Julie!
Julie: Cute boy or not, no way am I getting my face rocked by that monster.
Jaune: *Shrugs, collecting stuff to leave* Um, I don’t know if it’ll work but maybe fill your bags with syrup. Might work as a distraction if Mt. Nora erupts.
Beryl: *Flatly* Really?
Cissy: *Flips platinum blonde hair* I saw her drinking it right out of the bottle once before Lie stopped her.
Beryl: *Sees Jaune’s gone, giggles* Somehow I think kitten got the better end of the deal. *Speculative* Shame he’s super taken.
Julie: Uh, what? Isn’t-
Beryl: Oh you sweet summer child, never change *Ruffles Julie’s hair*
Julie: Ack! Stop!
-----------------
Jaune: Thanks headmaster! This is all really great!
Ozpin: *Working at desk* No need to thank me, mister Arc.
Jaune: Uh, yeah I do. You didn’t have to allow me to do this, but you did and it’s really neat of you.
Ozpin: *Smiles* Well then, you’re welcome. Enjoy.
-----------------
Ruby: You definitely came to the right girl!
Jaune: *Looking at his haul* I’ll say. You’re sure you’re okay with helping? I kinda saw the looks you were giving Crescent Rose back at the forge. *Teasingly* You sure you don’t want some alone time with your baby?
Ruby: *Blushes the color of her cloak* S-shut up! She’ll be fine without me, I was just thinking of trying out some custom dust ammo is all! *Very seriously* I don’t have a problem! You have a problem!
Jaune: Riii-iiight. *Ruby puffs cheeks out, teasingly* Like you don’t have a cookie problem?
Ruby: *Points dramatically, very loud* THAT... *Slumps and sighs* please don’t tell Yang I have a nightly plate of chocolate chip.
Jaune: *Laughs* No problem, Ruby. You know me. How can I turn my back on the girl who actually talked her team into not killing me when I told them I cheated my way into Beacon?
Ruby: Yeah, yeah. So get those babies ready, vomit boy and watch Ruby - I am totally a pro at this and all things wonderful - Rose do her magic!
Jaune: Will do, crater face!
-----------------
Jaune: *Grins* Thanks Cardin. You know, when you’re not being all racist and pushing people around you’re actually a really nice guy.
Sky: Ooooh. What a compliment. The kindness just gently caresses your face like a butterfly’s wings, huh Cardin?
Cardin: *Scowling* Shut it, Sky. I’m still trying so that’s totally fair.
Jaune: I, uh, didn’t mean it--
Cardin: *Rubbing neck* I know dude, no worries. Got a date with my girl coming up and it’s our anniversary, so it’s just a little extra. And don’t worry about paying me back, this is like the very least I can do for you after everything. *Jaune’s about to protest* Nope. I know we’re cool, but I was a huge douchebag. I mean it.
Jaune: Well thanks. It means a lot. *Leaves*
Russel: *Reading motorcycle magazine* You don’t have a girl, bro.
Cardin: *Frowns* I know.
Dove: You know you don’t have to help him out like that. You’re only hurting yourself.
Cardin: *Wipes face with hands, flops on his bed and stares at the ceiling* Yeah, well, too bad for Cardin fucking Winchester. If Jaune’s happy, I’m happy. I wasn’t joking when I said he deserves better than me. *Rolls on side to stare at wall.*
RDL: *All staring at their leader, all of them sad*
-----------------
Jaune: *Cheerfully* I’m back!
Weiss: *Very grumpily glaring at Jaune from beneath her covers, only her eyes visible, her voice is acidic* It’s quite fine, Arc. It’s only been two and a half hours. I know you have better things to do, so don’t bother acting like you were looking forward to coming back to deal with me.
Jaune: *Winces* Yeah, sorry. I was getting the hot towel when I kinda realized that you’ve probably been dealing with this all by yourself. *Weiss growls* It’s just, I remembered how you said you and your Dad don’t really talk and your little brother’s a, a snot, I think you called him? *Weiss feels embarrassed, but says nothing while staring at Jaune* Just hold on.
*Weiss does but when he comes back in the room her eyes go wide in shock*
Jaune: I-I just have a lot of sisters. Four older, three younger and they all have different things they like when they’re on their period. Saphron’s just happy if I’ll bring her things and Coral just wants me to leave her alone. Peri always wants cuddles and movies and *blushes as he realizes how much he’s talking* I just thought instead of whatever you usually do, you might want something more? Just to try something new?
Weiss: *Stares at several hot compresses, an expensive looking box of chocolates, a small boquet of blue Glory of the Snow’s, a stack of films, several unhealthy but delicious looking snacks and a stuffed polar bear with a top hat*
Weiss: *Wide eyed, completely taken aback* W-what?
Jaune: I-I-I don’t mean to assume anything, but I’m guessing you didn’t really have anyone who tried to make your period any better?
Weiss: I have a butler, Klein, who would always check in on me but never, well I never thought to ask for more. *Very softly as she stares at the rolling entourage of goodies* It never occurred.
Jaune: Okay, well, um, how about I bring this in?
*Jaune does, Weiss watching as he sets the flowers near her bed with wide eyes and gratefully accepting the compress, bringing it under her comforter and sighing in relief*
Jaune: We’ll have to set it up on your scroll, but I did bring movies to just so you have something fun to do today. There’s a family film with an apparently super cute actor, another that’s a cute animated movie that’s a staple of everybody’s childhood except mine apparently, *Weiss snorts, watching the covers* and one about a puppy finding his way home--
Weiss: *Eyes glued to the case, speaks immediately* That one.
Jaune: You sure, I checked the fam--
Weiss: *Eyes not leaving the box* I’m certain. *Flushes* Please?
Jaune: Sure. Just let me set this up.
*Jaune also hands over the chocolates, which Weiss stares at curiously and much to her delight, brings over the bags of snacks and she clutches the bag of cheesy poofs to her, very much wanting to try them for the first time*
Jaune: Okay, that should do it. So you’ve got your Cheez-E-Poofs, I grabbed a few sodas, juices that I thought you might like *quickly* but I also got water! Um, here. *Hands Weiss the stuffed animal, which she stares at and brings close to her face, loving how cute it is and how soft it is* Oh, Ruby helped me dip some strawberry’s in chocolate if you wanna try them later. There’s normal ones too.
Weiss: *Touched and doesn’t know what to say* I-it’s all so...umm, thank you. You really didn’t have to.
Jaune: *Scratches the back of his head, looks away* No problem, Weiss. I’m used to stuff like this, so...I’ll go. *Looking very embarassed* You’ve probably had enough of me talking you to death, so I’m just gonna go across the hall--
Weiss: *From behind her bear* Stay. *Jaune stares at her, blinking in surprise* You were going to offer, but you...back home the most I ever got were the occasional visits from Klein. But having someone to be there sounds very nice and I’d like if you would. Very much. I certainly won’t eat all of this anyways, so...please?
Jaune: *Nodding rapidly* Sure. Right. Yeah, I just didn’t wanna assume or impose or *watches Weiss’ eyes light up at the cheesy snack she just tried* I’ll sit.
*Jaune sits next to Weiss’ bed and they watch the film, eat snacks and after the movie, Weiss tries the strawberries as the second film starts. When she wakes up after falling asleep, she discovers the mess she’d made of the comforter is cleaned, Jaune had gathered up her snacks and placed them in a box. Her flowers now have a vase and the bear she had placed on his shoulder is on her pillow*
Weiss: *Smiles and hugs bear tightly*
~~A week later~~
Weiss: *Exasperated* Where is he?
Yang: *Balancing a pencil on her nose on her bed, ignoring her homework* Who?
Weiss: *Notices Berry B. Cold on Yang’s stomach and shoots forward like a bullet, snatching him and hugging him to her abdomen* You know who you bum, Jaune!
Yang: *Grinning like the cat who ate the canary* Oh-ho, finally acknowledging him by his first name after all this time, Weiss Cream?
Weiss: *Blushing* Quiet you.
Ruby: Leave her alone, Yang. But, uh, I don’t really know where he is.
Weiss: Nonsense. I may have missed the chance to help him with his paper but at the very least I can at least explain some of the theory to him, give him better than what Beacon’s textbooks offer.
Yang: Oh yeah, sure, sounds fun.
Weiss: *Bristling* E-even if it’s a boring subject, it is useful. *Hugs bear tighter* And he needs all the help he can get and--
Blake: *Walking in* If you’re talking about Jaune, he’s way too busy Weiss.
Weiss: I beg your pardon?
Yang: Yeah, you didn’t know?
Weiss: *Irritated* No Yang, it’s why I asked you in the first place.
Yang: *Flatly* Oh. I thought you were joking. No, I mean it, don’t look at me like that! Seriously, vomit boy’s been busy the last couple days.
Weiss: *Confused* But why?
Yang: *Staring* Seriously? I mean, he got that whole thing together for you.
Weiss: M-me!? Is that...but he said he was used to it! I-I knew he was talking about his sisters, but he said Ruby helped! H-he...
Ruby: Yup, I did, but I didn’t know Jaune was making them so you could have a nice, comfy that-time-of-the-month. I thought he just wanted a strawberry snack! That he’d finally been enlightened. *Sighs*
Yang: And that whole spread wasn’t just free, he went around and traded a lot of favors to get it together.
Weiss: *Gaping* H-he...what? He traded favors, just... *Uncertain, squeezing her bear while looking distressed* You didn’t know? He hasn’t done that with any of you?
Ruby: Nope!
Blake: Gods no.
Yang: Dad’s sweet like that for me when it’s bad-bad, but if Jaune offered I’d definitely turn him down. *Gives Weiss a look*
Ruby: Yeah, and all I need is my Non-Descript Winter Holiday lights and my guns ‘n ammo mags plus my scroll and I’m happy. *Shrugs* I get really crabby so I prefer being alone.
RWY: *Staring at Blake*
Blake: My ex did it for me once. Never again.
Weiss: S-so he did all that, just for me? Because I was miserable?
Yang: *Sighs, flops back on her bed* I don’t know why you’re so surprised. Ask his team. Jaune’s actually a pretty nice guy. He aimed Neptune in your direction back at the dance even though anybody with eyes knew he was kinda bummed the whole night. After you started talking with him after and started sharing, I think he just wanted you to have, y’know, some normal stuff that we all enjoy because our Dad’s aren’t asshats.
Ruby: Yang!
Blake: *Sees Weiss looking at her, looking upset* He’s been Coco’s personal shopper for the last week, he’s been dodging Nora since Ren agreed to a date with each of those girls from Team SNLT because she is pissed, he’s been doing odd jobs for Ozpin all week, he’s been doing a lot of work outside for Peach and I think he’s also been in the laundry rooms a lot. That stuff wasn’t just free. Plus he’s had to do all his usual leader stuff and his homework.
Weiss: *Gapes, hugs her bear and her eyes drift to her box of treats and she purses her lips* B-but...that’s so much, just so I...
Yang: Um, he likes you Weiss. Even if he stepped aside for Neptune, he’s not gonna just poof whatever he feels for you away just because he doesn’t have a chance. Then he sees you feeling like shit, knows just how bad it is because of all his sisters and gets it in his head that you deserve the princess treatment. *Stretches* He offered for Pyrrha once but she just went really red, yelled ‘NO!’ and apparently pushed him through a wall.
Weiss: *Sits on bed with her knees pulled up, hugging her bear while hiding a wobbling lip as she realizes and RBY just sighs*
~~Four days later~~
Yang: *Grins* Called it.
Blake: Yes, because it was such a mystery that this was gonna happen after Weiss had it spelled out for her that Jaune still has it bad for her even if he was trying to get over her. I’ll admit I still don’t understand the way Weiss thinks or why Jaune would put himself through all of that just because Weiss was having a bad period when it was clear at the time she wasn’t even thinking of him that way, but c’mon Yang.
Yang: *Hand out*
Blake: *Rolls her eyes, puts Lien in her hand* Child.
*Meanwhile Weiss stands on her tiptoes, arms around Jaune’s neck and enjoys kissing her boyfriend*
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Two things: One, I headcanon Cardin as gay and occasionally having a thing for Jaune if it isn’t entirely obvious. Two, I don’t want my Tumblr to be nothing but crack/lewd. I’d also like some occasional romance/wholesome content. This isn’t the best, but hopefully it’s not quite as bad as I think it is towards the end.
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