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sneezyminniejo · 2 years

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heyy :) i really love the way you write because you always add so much detail and everything!!!

in the behind the scenes of the recent txt to do episode with the cat ears there is a clip of yeonjun where he dozed off during filming … i was wondering if you could maybe write a sickfic where he is feeling unwell and tired that day and has a fever (that he does not know of) and the members notice it and try to comfort him as good as they can while filming and then after filming is done they shower him with love and affection and try to make him feel better 🥺

Here it is. Hope you enjoy

A Fever's a Fever, No Matter How Small

The filming of ToDo was in full swing and Yeonjun was having a difficult time. Sure, he was enjoying all the games they were playing, but he was having trouble focusing and was generally feeling a bit off. Admittedly he had been feeling a bit off since he woke up, but their schedules had been busier lately, and he probably shouldn't have stayed up late trying to finish his newest book. All in all, he figured that he was just overly tired from inadvertently pulling an all-nighter. Besides, they’ve had days where they basically had to be awake for almost forty hours. He’s used to sleep deprivation. It just probably wasn’t wise to skimp on sleep when he could actually get some. But whatever, what’s done is done.

The members were currently playing a game with electronic cat ears. Everyone was doing their best to either get one of the others flustered enough to move their ears or keep calm enough to keep their own ears still. Even though the group was being their usual loud, chaotic selves, Yeonjun was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He was doing his best, but as the minutes ticked by, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to stay awake.

Taehyun had taken note of Yeonjun's slightly odd behavior, but felt that the middle of filming wasn't the right time to confront the older. It wasn't until he could hear some very faint snoring under all the chaos that Taehyun decided to intervene.

"I think Yeonjun hyung fell asleep." The second youngest stated as he gestured to the man sitting next to him. The others started snickering a bit loudly at seeing Yeonjun sound asleep with cat ears on his head. Beomgyu went to poke the elder's cheek and frowned a little when he removed his hand.

"Does hyung feel warm to you?" He asked. This resulted in all of them feeling Yeonjun's face while making it look like teasing. After all, the cameras were still filming them. Soobin went to talk to the manager, only to be told that they couldn't reschedule the shoot.

"Guys, manager-nim says that we don't have any space in our schedules to refilm this episode, so we have to wake up hyung and continue filming." Soobin said with regret painted on his face.

Taehyun shook Yeonjun's shoulder, but the older man didn't stir. The other three members did the same, but Yeonjun was out like a light. Beomgyu sighed as he stood up before running over to where his backpack was. He returned a couple minutes later with an air horn.

"Hyung, why do you have an air horn?" Kai asked. Beomgyu shrugged his shoulders a bit. "I honestly don't really know. Someone in one of the idol group chats I’m in, I forget which decided that it would be funny to prank their group with an air horn, and it’s been migrating between groups. Kinda like that one book about the pants. Somebody put it in my bag during our most recent music show.”

Beomgyu raised the air horn a bit, turning his head away from the device. The other members pressed their hands against their ears to protect them from the loud sound. Beomgyu pressed the button and everyone startled at least a little bit. Yeonjun jumped out of his seat into a standing position. “I’m awake. I wasn’t sleeping.” The eldest said as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

“Sure hyung. Anyway we have about two more hours of filming then we’ll go home.” Soobin said as he took the air horn from Beomgyu. “I’m keeping this until we get back to the dorm. I don’t want you using this on unsuspecting staff.” Soobin chided. Beomgyu looked a little bit offended, if it weren’t for the mischievous glint in his eyes. Soobin knows the younger a bit too well.

The initial burst of adrenaline that woke Yeonjun up faded rather quickly and the members found him dozing off not even ten minutes later. Taehyun began having to discreetly slap him every so often so that he’d stay awake. It was a little bit concerning, as the last time Yeonjun had been sick, he hadn’t been this fatigued. Soobin made the decision that once they were done filming this episode, they were going to take Yeonjun home and get him to bed. He also wanted to know exactly how high his hyung’s fever was in order for him to be tired.

At some point the members decided to give up on trying to keep Yeonjun awake. It wasn’t exactly sustainable to be hitting one of the members every few minutes. Sobbin managed to talk the producer into letting them end the episode early, so they quickly said their closing remarks on the episode before wrapping up the episode. Soobin and Kai teamed up to walk Yeonjun to the van and then inside the dorm when they arrived. To no one’s surprise, Yeonjun was fast asleep by the time he was pulled up outside of the groups place of residence.

Taehyun went to the bathroom and grabbed the thermometer, while Beomgyu cleared off the sofa so Soobin and Kai wouldn’t have to walk so far. Taehyun returned with the thermometer just as Soobin and Kai finished getting Yeonjun properly positioned on the couch. Taehyun placed the thermometer in the eldest’s mouth, and the group waited for it to beep. When the device beeped, Taehyun removed it from Yeonjun’s mouth and frowned when he saw the number.

“How high’s his fever? Do we need to take him to the doctor?” Soobin asked, trying to figure out why Taehyun was frowning at the number.

“His temp is 38.3 (100.9F). It’s not nearly as high as I thought it was going to be given how sleepy and out of it he’s been today.”

“Hyungs, a fever is still a fever regardless of how high it is. Besides, have we even seen Yeonjun hyung with a fever before?” Kai asked. The others thought about it for a moment before they all shook their heads.

“Okay, so maybe this is just how he is with a fever. I’m going to grab some medicine, can one of you make some rice or something for him to eat.” Soobin said as he walked towards the bathroom.

When Soobin returned, he saw Kai shaking Yeonjun awake. Beomgyu was assisting by flicking water onto the older member. Yeonjun groaned a little as he woke up and wiped the water off his face. “Mhmm, What time is it?” He asked as he slowly sat up, not yet registering that he was back at the dorm.

“It’s seven at night hyung.” Kai responded ast he took the glass of water from Beomgyu and handed it to Yeonjun. Yeonjun’s eyes widened. “When did we get back?” He asked as he took a couple of sips.

“We got back a few minutes ago. You were basically a walking zombie for the past hour, so I talked management into letting us out early. By the way, you have a fever, so you’re probably not going to feel good for a couple of days.” Yeonjun hummed in response just as Taehyun walked in the room holding a bowl of rice.

“Hyung, eat this, then you can take a fever reducer. Although your fever isn’t that high to begin with. We all thought it was higher based on how you’ve been acting.” Yeonjun nodded as he accepted the bowl of rice.

“Yeah, my body’s never reacted to fevers super well. It honestly didn’t occur to me that I might be sick. I just thought that I might have overdone it or something and that was why I was so tired today.” Silence fell over the group as Yeonjun somewhat lethargically ate his meager dinner. He then took the fever reducer and was once again looking like he was ready for bed.

“Come on hyung, let’s get you changed into some more comfortable clothing then you can sleep for the night.” Yeonjun nodded and stood up, stumbling slightly as he was already half asleep. Beomgyu and Taehyun helped support their sick hyung as they walked him to his room and helped him get dressed. Yeonjun was fast asleep shortly after his head hit the pillow.

A couple hours later, the healthy members were in the very beginning stages of getting ready for bed, when Yeonjun came out of his room looking much more alert than he had previously.

“Hey hyung,” Taehyun greeted. “Are you up to get something or are you awake because you’ve practically spent the entire day sleeping and the medicine’s kicked in so you don’t currently have a fever?”

“Second one. I think I’ll hang out out here for a bit before trying to go back to sleep.” Yeonjun replied as he sat down on the couch, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv.” Taehyun nodded then sat down next to Yeonjun.

I don’t have any schedules tomorrow, so I’ll stay up a bit longer and keep you company.” It wasn’t long for the other three members to catch wind of what was going on and collectively decided to have a sleepover in the living room. Yeonjun at first, was concerned that an impromptu sleepover would mess up the others’ ability to properly perform at their own schedules. Soobin laughed a bit mischievously at the concern.

“First off hyung, since you have a fever, you’re not leaving here until you’re better. You only have a slight fever and you can barely stay awake. Secondly, if we’re that tired tomorrow, who’s to say we didn’t get sick too?” Beomgyu cheered at the statement and got the others riled up at the prospect of faking sick for a couple of days to play hookie while they kept their sick member company until he was fully recovered.

#sickfic #txt #tomorrow x together

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insomniamamma · 3 years

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Safe: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

A/n: What can I say? I'm hormonal and all my shit hurts and if I cannot get snuggles IRL then I will write something super soft and self-indulgent to make myself feel better. Part of the Prickle AU. Set sometime after Sacellum.

Warnings: Oh no! There's only one bed. Soft!Ezra. Language. Cee's best friend on The Pug is non-binary and also named after my little boy's favorite stuffy. Maybe the slightest bit of angst. But mostly super soft.

"You did this on purpose." "Right hand to Kevva, I did not. I asked for double occupancy and they must have misunderstood and--" "You don't have a right hand," "Let's go back to the reception desk," says Ezra, "We may be able to negotiate more appropriate accommodations." "Errgh," you groan. Reception had been a nightmare, three freighters worth of traffic trying to secure berths all at once. It was a lot of people. Too many for your liking. Cee was staying with Kit and their family. Kit and Cee had practically tackled each other right there on the dock, everyone else forgotten, walked away arm in arm. "We shove off in three cycles," Ezra hollered at her retreating back, and she flapped a dismissive hand at him. You had to smile. For three cycles Cee gets to be a normal teenager hanging out with her best friend without worrying about points and pulls and overhead costs and fuel margins. "I don't wanna go back down there," you say, "Too many people. I think twice the population of Falnost was waiting in that fucking line." You brush past him and into the suite. The ceilings are low and slightly curved and it feels strange to be under this much grav. The outer rings of Puggart Bench have something close to terra-normal gravity, but after so much time spent on little moons and worldlets, this much G feels weird and you have no desire to trudge back down to reception. "You sure?" Asks Ezra. "Yeah," you drop your day bag and press a hand to the mattress. "Look at the size of this thing. It's, like, five crash-couches wide. This seems above our pay grade." "They're overbooked," says Ezra, "We're paying the same points for the berth we should have gotten. I made sure of it. I can sleep in that recliner if--" "No." "No?" "Kevva, Ez, we're both adults," you say, "I think we can share a bed for a night without exploding."

Your suite has a real, honest-to-Goddess shower with a generous 15 minute timer. You scrub as fast as you can and then just let the water hit you, let the pressure pound on your tense back muscles until the chime sounds and the water cuts off. You towel off and dress, soft clothes you sleep in, and pad out into the main room. Ezra is reading, face far off and serious, and you just look at him for a minute, illuminated in the warm lamp-light, absorbed in his book, little furrow between his brows and then he looks up, all knowing smirk and dancing eyes, he's caught you staring. "Your turn, Ez," You say and turn your face away. Kevva. This man. You've been trying to keep things professional, but it's a losing battle. His flirtations make you flush, but he's never tried to push you, never tried to leverage the fact that it's his name on the ship's title, that you signed a contract, that you are junior-most crew. You feel safe with him. And, from your limited experience in the fringe, that is a miracle in itself.

Ezra sets his book aside and heads for the bathroom. You peel the sheets from the other side of the bed and settle in. There's a media player bolted to the wall, but you just want quiet. You switch off the lamp on your nightstand (we both have lamps, we both have a nightstand, how weird is that?) The sheets feel deliciously cool against your skin. To be clean and sleeping in clean sheets...if Heaven isn't like this Kevva's got some answering to do. Ezra sings in the shower. You're barely awake and you smile. Ezra can't carry a tune in a bucket, singing fringeling songs and reels, stories of mercs and pirates and ghosts and you drift off to the sound of him, the sound of the water running.

He sees you soft and loose and asleep. No rail-gun, no body armor, no thrower under your pillow. Your face slack, snoring slightly. You've kicked out of the blankets and lay curled as if chilled. "Hey Artichoke," he murmurs, pulls the blankets up and tucks them around you, "Let's get you warm, yeah?"

Ezra wakes. Bleared red numbers of the clock saying that this is still the deepest ditch of local night. Ezra is warm and confused. He feels you pressed against him, your chest to his back, an arm hooked around his middle, your legs entwined with his. You've sought him out in your sleep and folded yourself around him, your breath slow and steady against his nape. Ezra's eyes prick with tears. He can't remember the last time he's been held like this. He's had lovers. He has payed for sex on the less reputable Benches of the Great Arm, but for someone to hold him? For someone to touch him without payment, without trying to press some advantage, gain some kind of leverage, without priming him for the inevitable backstab? He is overwhelmed. He tries to wriggle away from you, but your arm just tightens around him. "...fixed the transponder," you mutter against his neck, "told you we didn't need...told you..." He pats your arm and relaxes against you. "Okay, Artichoke, okay, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

You wake enfolded, Ezra's good arm wrapped around you. You feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, the slow sussurration of his breath, the snores that catch in his throat and turn to murmurs, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. You've tucked yourself against him in your sleep. Your hand rests on his sternum. Oh Kevva. What are you doing? You go rigid. Your first impulse is to wrestle out of his hold, take one of the blankets and install yourself in the recliner that you wouldn't let Ezra take, but part of you wants to stay right here in the combined warmth of your bodies, feeling his breath, his heart, his calloused palm spread against your shoulder. You shift, making the smallest effort to pull yourself away and his arm tightens further, a low, sleepy chuckle reverberates through his chest. "Hi Ez," "Hi." He strokes the pad of his thumb along the exposed curve of your shoulder. "I'll get up," you say, even as he shifts and cups the back of your head in his palm, tucking you closer. "You don't have to," he says, voice rough with sleep. This gesture pricks at your heart. Coming up on Falnost has made you hard, guarded, there has been precious little gentleness in your life, pulling rocks out of the parched ground since you were big enough to lift a shovel. Learned to fight and shoot to chase water-thieves from the homestead. He strokes the back of your head like one might pet a skittish cat and your heart squeezes. "Ezra?" You hate how small your voice sounds, you hate the uncertainty you hear there, "Are we okay?" "Of course we are," he says, "Why wouldn't we be?" "I wrapped around you like a Bueller's world python and I did it in my sleep-" "The wrapping was mutual-" "You're not mad or uncomfortable or anything?" He laughs again, gentle huff of breath against the crown of your head. "Mad about waking with you in my arms? The day I'm mad about that you can just shoot me in the head and send me to Kevva because I will surely have lost my ever-loving mind." You smile against his skin and relax some, your hand unfists and you curl your arm around his soft belly, feel his breath hitch. "Tickles." "Sorry." You feel yourself drift, skirting the edge of sleep. He is warm and solid and you let yourself relax against him. “This feels...safe..." you say, so close to sleep that you're not sure if you've said it aloud or if you've just thought it. And you're not sure if you hear his response or dream it, one word. Always.

"She's late," says Ezra. "We still got a sixteenth to button up and board," "Still," says Ezra, "Yon freighter will leave with our pod wether we're strapped in it or not." You see Cee and Kit, trailed by Kit's parents, weaving through the crowd. Cee is beaming, her blonde hair has a brilliant streak of blue, and Kit has a matching streak in their hair. "Hey guys!" Cee hugs Ezra and then hugs you. "How was your shore leave, Little Bird? I like the fancy hair." "Isn't that cool? We've got matching streaks," says Cee. "It's semi-permanent," says Kit, "We'll pick a different color next time!" You have to smile. Cee looks revitalized. Three cycles spent with her friend, just doing normal kid things has been good for her. "Check this out!" says Cee and pushes a laminated drawing towards the two of you. Ezra makes a show of looking carefully. "I recognize you and Kit," he says, "I am not familiar with these other people, though." "They're from The Streamer Girl, dumbass," says Cee, "Here's Clo and Reive and Lily and Auri. See? Kit put us right in the story." Ezra gives Kit his best smile. “You drew this? You are very talented." Kit smiles big. "Thanks!" says Kit, "I'll put you guys in the next one! Maybe you could be professors at Bowsun Academy or something." "I look forward to it," says Ezra. "Time to go, Cee," you say and Cee and Kit exchange one more enthusiastic hug. "Later fringeling!" Calls Kit. "Piss off, stationer!" Cee calls back. Ezra curls his fingers around yours and squeezes. Cee tells you all about her three cycles with Kit, the movies they watched, the Real Food they ate. How Kit's little brother wanted a blue streak in his hair too and Kit's parents said no and how mad he got. I wanna be cool like Kit and Cee. "I told him he's got plenty of time to be cool," says Cee, "And he told me that I don't understand how the world works. He's like, four." Ezra laughs. "Wise for his years." Says Ezra. And the three of you fall quiet. You find the pod much as you left it, towed to the Polly Jean and clipped in, transferred by the station's tugs. You settle in and do a full systems check. Calling out the checklists and making sure everything is good for transit. "What are you guys so happy about?" asks Cee. "Whatever do you mean?" asks Ezra. "You been all smiles since I hit the dock," says Cee, "Both of you. Did we score a really good job? Did we win the Puggart Bench lottery or something? What aren't you telling me?" "That," says Ezra, "Is for us to know and you to endlessly speculate about." "Hmph," says Cee.

Tagging: @oonajaeadira, @grogusmum , @honestly-shite, @writeforfandoms, @ladyvengeancesposts, @the-blind-assassin-12

#ezra x f!reader w/cee #ezra prospect x f!reader w/cee #ezra and cee #soft!ezra needs his own warning #don't look at me #this is so soft

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elius-learns-to-write · 3 years

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Dr Dolittle

FIRST FIC OF THE WEEK BESTIESSSSSS, I hope your Monday was absolutely splendid and if it wasn’t then treat yourself to an episode of something, a book perhaps or maybe a nice hot drink. Anyway enjoy this I know I enjoyed writing it. (also I couldn’t remember if Alpine was a boy or a girl so I went with boy). Love you all <3

You are gifted Bestie

No literally you have the ability to talk to animals

Being born with this power made sure your childhood was never lonely

The pebble launched across the playground as you kicked it as hard as you could. You didn’t have many friends, not because you weren’t liked, it was just that you tended to keep to yourself. So instead of playing stuck in the mud or whatever game of house the other kids had come up with you decided that kicking rocks was more fun. “What are you doing” squawked a voice, lifting your eyes up to see if you could see which one of your classmates had asked you the question, all you were greeted by was the distant squeals of children and the rock you had been about to kick. “Down here” the voice called again. Head drifting downwards you spotted a little caterpillar on one of the daisies that had popped up the week before, putting your hand out your eyes grew to be the size of flying saucers as the little creature made its way onto your hand. “Did you just speak?” you whispered in awe, gently plopping your 6 year old body onto the floor, as much as you were hoping for a reply even at 6 years old you felt a bit silly asking a caterpillar if it had been the one that asked you the question. “Yes but I’ll ask again anyway, what are you doing?”.

The caterpillar had been called Dot

Dot hadn’t stayed very long, you were inseparable at school for about 2 weeks before they told you that they would have to go for a little while

Sooner than you could say wow look at these daisies, Dot returned as a beautiful butterfly

And even into your teenage years you would wonder what Dot did after their transformation

Whether it was the crow that perched on the old oak tree at the start of the forest trail teaching you what berries to eat at what time of year

“No that bush to your right. RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT!” Rory squawked into your ear as you stood on an old rotting tree stumps trying to get to the berries he had instructed you to share with him. “I am trying, these logs are going to break and it’s not my fault I don’t know my left from right” you giggled, finally reaching the burning red treasures. “Silly little human” Rory muttered (well I say Muttered it was more of a shouty squawk) “silly little bird” you giggled back, hopping off the log and skipping back down the track.

Or the wise old owl who liked to tell you stories

Taking you to far off kingdoms through the magical travel of words

“And so me and Bettie flew all the way back home, love fresh in our hearts and knowledge ripe in our minds” Mary spoke, her heart warming story fluttering down to you almost as soft as her stray feathers did. You loved when she told these stories, she had a way with words that even Van Gogh wouldn’t be able to live up to the paintings she created in your mind's eye. “Tell me another one Mary, you know how much I love them” she smiled as much as an owl good and ruffled her feathers “one more child, just one”. It was never just one.

You loved it all

So when you first met your dad Sergeant James Barnes and he asked you if you liked animals you must of talked for hours

“You have no idea” you chuckled nervously, scratching the back of your neck in an attempt to hide the nervous blush that had been covering your face since he revealed who he was. “Try me, what do you like about them” he beamed a bright smile, not the kind of smile people use to make others feel more comfortable but the type that met the eyes and made them look 10 years younger. “Okay so you know that feeling that you get when you have just woken up from a dream where you were best friends with someone even though in real life they don’t even exist?” waving your hands around animatedly like those blow up noodle men you get outside a car sales place “I can’t say I do” he replied, smiling even wider at the realisation that whatever shell you had once been wearing had finally been broken away. “Well anyway that’s what I feel every time I see a puppy trying to play catch with a stick 10 sizes too big or when a robin decides that flying beside me as I walk is better than whatever dish the forest has to offer”.

You went on and on in your explanation until he had to go back to the tower

Adding in random facts about every creature, flower, weed, leaf and rock you could

If that’s what you were like when he asked you about it

Imagine your delight when he told you he had a cat named Alpine

And after you moved into the tower

You instantly bonded with the feline

Sharing facts and gossip about the other occupants

“Nooooooo really?” you laughed as Alpine told you the most recent late night adventure he had caught Tony on, “yep and then when he went to close the dishwasher he lent on the top rack and it felt out, all the cups went everywhere”.

You made sure to take a look at the security cameras and bully Tony

“Psst Alpine” you nudged the white cat as you paused The house Wives of Beverly Hills, to spill the dirt you had on vision and Wanda. “Okay fine I guess I won’t tell you what our resident toaster and wiggly woo got up too last night” you crossed your arms tight across your chest pouting at the screen until a white ball of fur jumped onto your chest nudging at your arms, eager for the news. “Fine, they came home last night from a movie night and long story short they confessed their feeling to each other over late night pancakes” you squealed rubbing your furry friend behind his ears. “EEEEEEEEK”.

As much as your dad wanted to pretend that he was jealous over how much time HIS cat spent with you

His millions of blurry and oddly angled pictures that filled his camera roll would say otherwise

You loved animals

You loved nature

And you loved Alpine

You had everything you could ever want

#the avengers #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #bucky imagine #bucky x you #bucky x teen!reader #bucky x daughter!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x alpine #bucky fluff #avengers fluff

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myenterpriseisparked · 3 years

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can.... can we get a cast for your zoologist Trek show?

I don't have names for them but here we go! This is kind of long, so I'm putting the characters under a cut.

The ship is called the USS Frontiersman. It works mostly in deep space, studying new forms of life on newly discovered planets. Crew compliment of 160. 50 exozoologists, 50 exobotanists, 20 environmentalists (including geologists and atmospheric experts). The remaining 40 crew members are engineers, security officers, helmsman, and the captain and first officer. I'm not positive on the time period this is set during, but it's at least at a point where there's not much conflict between Cardassia and the Federation.

Captain: She's a 40-year-old Engineer who never expected to make captain. Finding out she was being offered a command was the best day of her life. The worst day of her life was the next day, when she stepped on board and realized it was an exobiology ship filled with eccentrics. She slept through her required exobiology course so she has no idea what any of her crew members are talking about. She's basically that babysitter who's charges are all extremely passionate about things she doesn't understand and the parents have asked her to drive them around to local museums and science learning centers while the kids yell in the backseat about who's topic of interest is better.

First Officer: She's a 30-year-old who went through the academy on the command route and was known for being an excellent pilot. Has less knowledge of exobiology than the captain. The two of them keep trying to push interpersonal conflicts to be solved off on one another because neither of them understand what anyone's talking about enough to truly help solve the issue and, frankly, they're both a little frightened of the ferocity of their crew.

Head Engineer: Bajoran who actually did pay attention in biology and, while she's a little confused, she's eager to learn about what the others are prattling on about and is an excellent listener. She tries her best to translate for the non-exobiologist crew members, especially the captain and first officer. She was married (spouse died. tragically) and has a daughter that follows her around engineering. Everyone loves the kid and tries to convince her to study whatever their area of expertise is. Later in the show, when she's a little older, she decides to go the command route at Starfleet and become a pilot, much to the crew's dismay. The First Officer is absolutely tickled.

Chief Medical Officer(s): The Frontiersman actually has 2 chief medical officers; a doctor and a veterinarian. Yes, this is terribly inefficient and yes, they constantly butt heads. The vet is a young human woman from Ohio with a dry sense of humor and a penchant for snark. The doctor is a young human male from Michigan with a dry sense of humor and a penchant for snark. They absolutely hate each other until the day they realize that they are actually in love with each other and all of their arguments have been attempts to deny their attraction. Both of them are absolutely disgusted that they could fall in love with someone so... so... infuriating gosh dang it. They try to continue denying their feelings for each other because they are from rival states and they constantly fight over jurisdiction in the medbay for new species. One day, however, one of their most heated arguments ends in a passionate kiss and they stop fighting their feelings (but not each other).

From there, the rest of the crew is divided up under chiefs of specific taxonomical divisions. Sometimes a division will only have 1 scientist, other times it has a whole crew of people. Depends on the frequency of that type of living thing appearing. Most divisions only have 3 people; a chief and two junior officers. Not every chief is featured in the show because that would be too many characters, so just the ones that are considered part of the senior staff, which were selected by Starfleet at the time of commission based on training.

Chief of Feliformia: She's a hotheaded Betazoid in her mid 30's who spends her free time boxing on the holodeck. She argues a lot with the Chief of Canidae, but they still have breakfast together every morning to trade ship gossip. She wrestles with PTSD and anxiety, which she hides under a layer of bravado. Surprisingly enough, the only person she really feels comfortable opening up to about her past is the Chief of Canidae, because, despite all of their banter about cats vs dogs, they're her closest friend and she appreciates their blunt honesty.

Chief of Canidae: They're a Trill in their mid 30's who's passionate to the point of poetry about dog-like creatures. They're host to a younger symbiont, and they're one of the shortest people on the ship. They also only really open up to the Chief of Feliformia for similar reasons; the blunt honesty. Their relationship is strictly platonic (and I mean actually platonic, not whatever the VOY writers were trying to sell to us about Janeway and Chakotay).

Chief of Rodentia: He's a 70-year-old Bajoran/Cardassian. His mother defected from the Cardassian army to be with his father and the two of them raised him on earth where he raised pet rats. He always has about 7 various rodents tucked into his lab coat. He is a neat freak about his lab space and refuses to let anyone into his area unless they have completely scrubbed up and promise not to touch his PADD stack. Part of his particularity about his lab comes from the fact that he faced a lot of public ridicule due to his mixed heritage when he was young and so he's naturally very defensive of everything he does and owns.

Chief of Chiroptera: She's a twenty-something Half Vulcan-Half Betazoid who was raised on Betazed. Her Vulcan mother was the Vulcan ambassador on Betazed, and her work made her somewhat absent so, while she has enough of a restraint on her emotions not to be violent or aggressive, she's also more Betazoid in terms of personality. The combination of telepathic and empathic abilities from her parents has made her sensitive to large crowds, which is why she LOVES working in caves with bats away from other people. The combination of the two species' abilities constantly bombarding her and the need to restrain her Vulcan emotions have also resulted in her having ADD (her attention is being pulled in every direction so focusing on other tasks that don't immediately grasp her interest is SUPER difficult for her). However, she's also incredibly kind, difficult to shock or surprise, and very passionate about her work.

Chief of Reptilia: They're a human in their early 50's, a bit reclusive, and VERY unwilling to let people in their lab. They never show up to a meeting without a snake around their neck. The snake might be venomous. No one knows for sure. Whatever the case; everyone on board is pretty sure the reptile division is actually a cult because they never see anyone from that crew outside of the lab decks.

Chief of Aves: She's human, no one knows her age, and she refuses to wear a standard-issue lab coat, opting instead to wear a tie-die coat that reaches the floor. She speaks in riddles and everyone thinks she's crazy, but she's actually incredibly wise and an excellent listener. She specializes in raptors.

Chief of Livestock: Even though it's not technically a taxonomical order, they have a guy who specializes in studying livestock of alien cultures. No one is sure how old he is, or what his species is, for that matter. He has the calm, level-headedness of a Vulcan, but he always wears a hat so no one sees his ears or eyebrows to know for sure. He might just be a Midwestern farmer, because they can be Like That too. Despite working with livestock, he also never gets injured, so not even the doctor knows. Some people speculate that he's not human OR Vulcan, but some other immortal species, like a Q. This mystery is never solved on the show, but everyone really likes this guy.

Chief Exobotanist: Despite the fact that the plants are divided up into other taxonomical species, they all report to one Chief Botanist because the plant department is a lot more efficient and interconnected than the animal departments. Despite this, she's completely overworked and undercaffeinated. However, her workload doesn't stop her from being one of the sweetest and most creative people on board. As to the rest of her character, I defer to @emilie786 , as she is the inspiration for this character!

There are other chiefs who are occasional recurring characters, like the Chief of Aquaculture and the Chief of Amphibians. There are also several junior officers who we get to know a bit that are kind of fun. I'm thinking there's some kind of star-crossed lovers arc going on between someone who works in exobotany and someone who works in exozoology. There's also an overworked head of security who is getting really sick and tired of all the escapee animals he has to track down. I think he might fall in love with the Chief Exobotanist partially because plants don't run away and get into the Jeffries tubes (until they do, of course).

Anyway, if anyone wants to add to this, go for it! I'm open to ideas!

#Star Trek: Frontiersman #star trek oc #sorry for the long post #to be continued probably

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noire-pandora · 3 years

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OC interview: Elluin Lavellan

I was tagged by @emerald-amidst-gold @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas @samuraisaucefrites @ammocharis @oxygenforthewicked thanks for the tag!

Let us imagine this is an interview for the curious citizens of Thedas who want to know more about the Inquisitor. It takes place a few months after their arrival to Skyhold.

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

"Of course. I am Elluin of the clan Lavellan. I am currently the leader of the Inquisition.”

What is your gender identity, orientation, and relationship status?

"That's a bit too personal, isn't it? Why do people in Thedas care if I am with someone?" She sighs. "I am a woman, and my sexual orientation and relationship status are my business, and I want you to respect that. (She's a taken bisexual xD)”

Where and when were you born?

"I was born 37 years ago in the Free Marches. I don't know the exact place, but I was born in Clan Lavellan and that's all that matters to me."

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

"Until a few months ago I would have refused to answer that question, but it seems I am in a place of power that makes people forget I am a ‘dangerous mage’. My weapon is my fire and my fighting style is....me to be extremely careful not to die and avoid any fight if possible. If not, I prefer to stay away from my enemies. But since that does not work so well these days, I'm training to become a Knight Enchanter and not be afraid of my enemies anymore. It's going to take a while, but I am trying.”

And finally, are you happy?

She shrugs. "Are any of us really happy? I do not think I have a choice but to think I am happy. Even if sometimes I am not."

Family and friends

What is your family like? What is your relationship like with them?

"My idea of family is different from what everyone thinks. The members of Clan Lavellan are my family, but so are some other people I have met over the years. Since I rarely stay in one place, my family is getting bigger. I get along well with them, so I call them family."

Have you ever run away from home?

She grins. "I think I am running away from home right now. I left home when I was nineteen, and I am still on the move."

"Would you want to get married or have children?

"I can barely take care of myself, I do not think I am cut out to be a parent, but... A family sounds good. Maybe? I do not know yet. Ask me again when I am done being the leader of a rogue religious organisation, and maybe I'll have a better answer.”

Do you secretly hate any of your friends?

“No. If I hate someone, I will let them know. I will never swallow my words just to make someone feel comfortable around me. If I hate you, you'll be the first to know.”

What friend knows everything about you?

“No one. My secrets are mine, and I like to keep my secrets. I did not survive for 36 years by giving away my thoughts like they were apples to be shared. There are a few people in my life who know more than others, but... some things are better left unsaid.”

Asked by fans

Can you read and write? Did you go to school?

"Yes. I didn’t to one of your schools, but I was lucky enough to be raised by brilliant people who wanted to share their brilliance with me." She scoffs. "I tried to get into your university, but I was rejected before I could open my mouth. All because of my ears."

The scariest prediction you made that later came true?

"I don’t like to think about bad things. I try to keep a positive attitude and only think about happy things." She laughs. "Reality does not need my lame imagination to surprise me with scary situations. Never in a million years would I have imagined that my l would be forced to be a responsible leader and save the world.”

What is something you embarrassingly realised too late?

"Hmmmm. The painful truth that I do not know as much about the world and its people as I thought I did. I was sure I was wise and smart, but... in the few months I have been here, I have been shown that I am just an ignorant child."

Do you have mental or physical problems?

“If so, why do you think I will share them with you? Remember when I said I like to keep my secrets? Well, this is one secret I do not want you to know.”

What's your main goal right now?

“Oh, nothing big. Survival. And keeping Thedas whole while I do.”

Choices

Drink or eat?

“To survive, I need both. Why should I choose?”

Cats or dogs?

"Yes!" she grins. "I love animals and I want them all. No matter what."

Optimist or pessimist?

“I like to think of myself as an optimist. Or at least I try to be. I can be a scary pessimist and I do not want to scare my friends.”

Sassy or sarcastic?

“None, if I have a choice. I reserve my sarcasm for those who annoy me.”

HAVE YOU EVER:

Been caught sneaking out?

“Yes. Even now I am watched by many eyes and I try to escape every night. Unfortunately, I cannot escape the watchful eyes of my dear advisors.”

Broken a bone?

“Yes. Many times. That's one of the hazards of being on the road all the time.”

Did you get flowers?

“Yes! I love flowers and when I get them I am very happy. Now almost every day I get a flower from... " she stops and grins. "Do not you want to know from whom? That's another secret of mine."

Ghosting someone?

She blinks and tilts her head to the right like a confused dog. "Ghosted? How can I do that if I am not dead?"

You pretended to laugh at a joke you did not get?

“I rarely do, because I like jokes and I like to laugh at them. I do brag a bit, but I rarely miss the point of a joke."

If you’re wondering why she is using so little contractions even if she uses a lot of them in my fic, is because she is in an official position, talking as the Inquisitor and she is trying to sound smart.

Tagging:

And: @little-lightning-lavellan @sidhelives @roguelioness @juliafied @aricazorel @raflesia65 @cleverblackcat @the-dreadful-canine @enasallavellan @aymayzing @wavesofinkdrops @dalishkadan @charlatron @dalish-rogue @starsandskies @rosella-writes @thevikingwoman @1000generations @bearlytolerant @charmcity-jess @barkspawn-says-mage-rights @rakshadow @pinkfadespirit @pookydraws @dreadfutures @for-the-ninth @kumaronoa @blueheaded @a11sha11fade

@inquisitoracorn

#tagged #oc interview #elluin lavellan #lets hope the 3rd time tumblr won't butcher my post #AGAIN

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wisehq · 3 years

Text

Mission Debrief: Chapter 43

...IT’S HAPPENING! IT’S HAPPENING! IT’S HAPPENING-!

Alright, before we get into it- full disclosure; the hivemind is in full swing at the Operation Strix discord server, so pretty much anything I write here is going to be an amalgamation of all the conspiracy theories and reactions we vomited out as soon as the chapter dropped. On that same note, I think writing these the day after will start to be the norm. Just so I have the chance to calm myself before going on a twenty-page tangent about everything Endo may or may not be planning.

Okay [deep breath] let’s get into it.

First, let’s start off with Franky, before we get into the juicy stuff.

When the chapter first started, I thought we were going to get backstory on Franky. Endo seemed to be alluding to this on his twitter page, and I was actually interested in possibly seeing more about his and Twilight’s relationship. Of course that didn’t end up happening; instead we got another side story about Franky trying to get some action by finding a lady’s lost cat, but seeing as how it’s Franky we’re talking about it seemed appropriate. Also, how can I be upset when-

The princess herself arrives! I gotta say, I loved the lightheartedness of most of this chapter. Yor’s always a delight, and pairing her together with Franky was a smart move on Endo’s part. They built off each other’s wackiness and I love this moment with the two of them. Just like with Twilight, we see that Franky genuinely wants to make the world a better place (and also get rich along the way) and Yor’s so impressed with him. I also liked that moment where Franky is surprised to find Yor still playing Loid’s wife even when he isn’t there- much like how he was with Anya while he was babysitting her. Just another little nod to the fact that he sees the Forger girls as being more than players in a game of elaborate house.

Then- just a quick thing before we get into what I know we all want to talk about- it’s interesting to me that Franky isn’t a one-man operation. He has a whole network of informants that he works with, and it makes sense that someone in his line of work has a many ears on the wall as possible. It’s a surefire way to stay plugged into the goings-on of the Ostanian underworld, unless of course...

...They get taken out by Garden.

AGHGHGHGHGH ALRIGHT, OK LET’S GO-

Garden. We finally have a name for Yor’s group now; we thought it was The Shop for the longest time, but apparently that’s only part of it. Yor alluded to this briefly back in ch. 29 when she described The Shop was being in charge of information gathering, and once their job was done it was Yor’s turn to come in and do the actual assassination. In this sense we see The Shop was being more of a support role in the same way that Franky is, though it’s still safe to assume the Shopkeeper is still in charge of both The Shop and Garden. At least for now- until we get more information to say otherwise, anyway.

Of course, the interesting thing is our silhouetted figures standing in this panel- not to mention the fact that Franky states that all the members are capable of taking on a whole troop of soldiers (for reference, a troop ranges between 9 and 100 men, though it usually hovers around 50). We know Yor is capable of doing this, but now that we also know the other assassins of Garden are as well, it begs the question; is Yor’s strength truly a unique thing in this world? And if it isn’t, what could be the source of it?

OSO-R, the drug used during the Tennis arc, was described as being in its trial stages. I originally chalked up it’s fast development time as just being part of manga logic, although I’m now starting to question that theory. It’s possible the roadmap for OSO-R has been around for much longer than first thought, and may find its traces back to when the war had just ended. Loid describes Garden as having been around for some time. We also know that Yor was just a child when she started up her assassination gig, so it’s possible that she and others like her may be have been exposed to a serum similar to OSO-R a decade or so before. Given Ostania’s track record of human experimentation, the scenario is possible.

Also going back to what Franky describes as “the shadow government”; it’s interesting that we’re hearing rumblings of a government operating outside the public’s view literally one chapter after we were just introduced to the concept of a royal class at some point in Ostania’s past. There’s a lot of things that cab be construed from this (such as Garden serving an authority that doesn’t necessarily align with Donovan and the government) but listing everything would just turn this review into one long-winded mess. So instead, we’re gonna entertain a fun theory- one that may or may not be true, but if it *does* end up being confirmed later on down that road, you heard it here first.

*ahem*

Mr. Green is a part of Garden.

Allow me to state my case.

When ch. 39 came out, I found it very unusual that a brand new character we haven’t seen before got a majority of the panel-time alongside Damian and the boys. It wasn’t very suspicious at the time, given that we’d just been introduced to Becky’s maid Martha, so we all just assumed Endo was building up his side characters a bit. For all intents and purposes, that may very well be the case.

However.

I know one person in particular who latched onto this panel right here, and for good reason; why would a security guard stationed at a school nowhere close to the border know about code words being used by people trying to cross over illegally? Yes, he was supposedly in the navy, but the way he phrases it here heavily implies that these code words are a recent affair, or at the very least are still being used currently. Why would he know that? Even if he was in the military, it’s information that has absolutely nothing to do with being in the navy.

Mr. Green is also very strong; strong enough to make the boys think they were going down rapids when in actuality it was just him rowing so fast. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever paddled a boat before, but it’s hard work- and it’s certainly difficult to the get that boat going at cruising speed, let alone fast enough to cause rapids. Yor’s the only one we’ve seen with strength like that and- yes, Green was supposedly in the navy, but at this point in time we don’t know anything else about him. We don’t know what he did after the war, nor do we know how he wound up in Eden Academy in the first place.

This is where we start going deep down the rabbit hole. Hang on.

This gentleman who we’ve never seen before is clearly aware that Garden exists, or at the very least is privy to Yor’s actual job. Much like how WISE has plants within Loid’s hospital, this man likely works to support Yor in some way. If such is the case, we can likely assume that- because the shadow government is supporting Garden- they would have their assassins posted in key areas for various reasons, likely to keep an eye out for traitors or to keep them spread out to cover a wide area should the need ever arise to deploy them.

We’ve only ever see Yor target traitorous politicians and outright terrorists (I realize this one is just a daydream, but you get my point). It would make sense, seeing as how she works at city hall and it would likely put her in an advantageous position when hunting them down. Of course, politicians aren’t the only people who might catch Garden’s attention. Given the amount of political and economic unrest that is currently going on in the country, there likely would be some people who would be fed up with the state of things. Such people may not be like Franklin Perkin- someone who would take direct action against the government- but instead would rather try to steer others towards a mindset that stands in opposition to Ostania. Such a person may try to target more impressionable people- people who are likely to listen and learn from an authority figure in their lives. People like...small children.

Eden students.

Garden. Eden. I see what you’re doing there, Endo.

Traitorous professors? Renegade academics? It would make sense to have a Garden assassin stationed at the most prestigious school in the country; the amount of information and contacts that are positioned around there are second to none, and what better way to suppress insurrection than at the source, at the very foundations of knowledge itself? Also, for kicks and giggles, let’s not forget that the name Mr. Green certainly fits with the plant motif Endo is going for with his assassin group (Garden. Thorn Princess. Briar. You catch my drift?)

Am I grasping at straws? Probably lol. I’d also like to reiterate that this is in no way all my thinking- a lot of crazy people put their brains together for this one, good or bad. But hey, it’s about all we can do until the next chapter! And at the very least, it’s a lot of fun to wonder what-if!

Also, BONUS

...She’s coming.

#spy x family

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

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Amoreena | chapter thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: fluff like unbelievably fluffy!

word count: 6.1

here's the playlist for the fic, the last song in the playlist if looped will lead right into Amoreena at the beginning and it works pretty well timing-wise if you like to listen while you read !!

from the beginning <3

All their bags were packed by Friday morning, Y/N and Amoreena waking up extra early with excitement for the weekend ahead of them, and they didn’t even know what was going to happen yet.

Y/N made sure everything was packed and ready for a 3rd time on Saturday morning, right before they left on the trip; making sure they had sunscreen and aloe vera, all her medicine and ginger ale by the pack for her random bouts of morning sickness that lasted all, day, long... And their dresses and his suit hanging behind the driver's seat, beside Amoreena, they all piled into Y/N’s car and took off down the road on their adventure.

Amoreena was awake for the first half of the 9-hour trip, singing like crazy as they drove through Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia and New York, it was so amazing she couldn’t stop cheering the whole time. It was more than she’s ever seen before, even though they lived so close to New York, she’s never been through it before.

Once they arrived in Rhode Island, Spencer pulled over at the closest gas station to make sure the girls were all prepared and ready for the big surprise he had for them. They filled the car, used the restroom and bought some lemonade before getting back into the car, he turned in the driver's seat to see Amoreena and Y/N better, looking at their wide eyes memorizing the calmness in their faces before he told them.

He didn’t want them to freak out too much, he was worried about Y/N’s blood pressure and how loud she might scream and any stress that a situation like this could put on her body. He’s seen how people react to Taylor Swift, he just didn’t know how they would.

“Now, I'm only telling you so you don't freak out," he repeated the same worry she had when she broke the news of the baby, "I didn’t have to rent a place on the water because my friend lives up here, so we’re going to stay in her guest house,” he explained it simply.

“Rossi's wife?” Y/N asked, confused about who it could be and if she knew this woman yet.

“No, actually I think you might know her, her name is Taylor?”

“No,” she shakes her head furiously, “no, nope, there's no way you did this, Spencer Walter Reid I am not kidding I’m going to pass away if I see her.” She's holding both her hands in fists as she tries to stay calm, closing her eyes quickly before letting out a deep sigh.

“Taylor who?” Amoreena yells, undoing her seatbelt and standing between their seats, she almost jumps into his lap as she leans over and grabs a fistful of his shirt, “Taylor WHO?”

“Go get in your seat and I’ll show you,” he teases, watching her follow orders and get back in the seat as quickly as possible, shouting at him to drive the second he hears the seatbelt click again.

Y/N is completely speechless for the next 20 minutes of the drive, eyes wide and a hand on her stomach as she stares out the front window. She’s like a statue, not able to hear anything Amoreena is saying but that doesn't stop her from going on and on with her stories.

“Mom!” She’s finally able to break her out of the haze, “pass me your phone!”

“Yeah,” she doesn’t even question it, handing her the phone back to the antsy 7-year-old so she could continue her internal panic.

They see her house on the hill as they approach, “holy shit,” Y/N whispers as Amoreena turns on the last great American dynasty, knowing exactly where they were going.

Taylor asked for his licence plate number and car model when they were emailing, letting her gate guy know to let Spencer right in so he could keep it a secret. But they knew the house, there was no point in not telling them. Y/N looked a little relieved that he gave her the time to freak out alone and not as soon as they crested the hill.

Her driveway felt never-ending as they got closer and closer, Amoreena was still in disbelief as she squealed in the back seat, hands flailing as she tried to calm the excitement inside her body with her favourite stim.

Then Taylor walked out into the front yard and Y/N was a mess. Crying as she waved her hand in front of her face, not wanting to be a mess in front of Taylor fucking Swift, “I told you nothing crazy! How did you do this?”

“Yes, but I said 'define crazy’ and you didn’t,” he reminds her with a cheeky smile.

She shoves him, “I didn’t think you could do this?!”

Once they’re parked the door automatically unlocked, and as much as spencer hated that non-safety feature, he's glad Amoreena can get out quickly before she's screaming bloody murder. Amoreena is out the door and in Taylor’s arms faster than they’ve ever seen her move, she should be a track star. It almost knocks Taylor to the ground as she takes her in, holding the sweet little girl against her chest with the biggest smile on her face. Amoreena snuggles right into her, with a hand on her cheek and her other arm wrapped behind her neck. She couldn't be any closer to her, it was like she was her favourite relative who she hasn't seen in a while.

Amoreena is talking her ear off already by the time Spencer’s helping Y/N out of the car and walking her to Taylor, she’s holding his hand like she’s going to pass out or something, “and this is my mom Y/N and my dad Spencer but somehow you know him already,” Amoreena introduces her.

“Hi, Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you, Spencer's told me a lot about you.” Taylor’s sweet voice saying her name alone makes her stutter out a bunch of nonsense, not to mention the fact Spencer's been talking to Taylor fucking Swift about her.

Amoreena moves out of the way for Taylor to wrap her up in a hug, and Y/N cries harder than he’s ever seen on her shoulder, “thank you,” is all she can say, it’s frightening to Amoreena at first to see her mom cry like that but she knows her mom just loves Taylor like family.

What she doesn’t know is just how much Taylor saved her life. If she didn’t have someone to listen to, someone to take the pain and replace it with hope, she wouldn’t be here and by default neither would Amoreena. Spencer owed everything to Taylor swift at this point, she was a blessing in his life that he took for granted. Not realizing until that moment just how much she meant to him as well now.

“Sorry,” Y/N finally says as she pulls off her, “I’m pregnant, I can’t help it.”

Taylor’s hands fly right to her stomach, “holy crap, you never told me that she’s pregnant in your emails, oh my god!” She’s genuinely so happy for them, “how far along are you?”

“6 weeks on Sunday,” she smiles, feeling like herself again even though it’s incredibly strange to be telling Taylor before her parents even knew. “No one really knows, it’s all very new but when you know, you know… y’know?”

For a woman with an English language degree, she sure knew how to make a sentence, all of them laughing at the words she chose, but they understood.

“We should have used paper rings!” Amoreena yells, holding her hand over her eyes in disbelief as she shares her head with a sigh, she couldn’t believe she forgot that song existed.

It made Taylor laugh, scooping the little one up in her arms and starting the walk inside.

“Well come on in, I’ve got a big lunch spread ready for us and then we can go to the beach for the ceremony whenever you want this weekend, does that sound good?” Taylor is beyond excited to make new friends, much like Amoreena, they got along famously.

“Where are the cats? Do they live here or in LA or Nashville?” Amoreena changed the topic in the form of a yes and proving just how much she knew about Taylor.

“They’re here, Olivia and Benjamin will probably find us soon, Meredith isn’t very open to new friends now that she’s an old lady,” Taylor explained as she set Amoreena down in the entryway, bending down to be at her level and pointing off into the living room, “oh, see, there one is!”

Amoreena saw one of them laying on the floor under a sunny spot, running to it and petting it gently, “hi Benjamin, I loved you in the ME video,” she whispers as she pets him, making Taylor swoon.

“She’s amazing,” Taylor swooned, “I can’t wait to have one.”

“You should!” Y/N agreed, reaching to take Taylor's hand on impulse, and Taylor held it back with a smile, “oh that would be so wonderful, I can just imagine the beautiful stories you’ll create when you discover what it’s like to love someone how your mom loves you.”

Taylor’s smile was priceless, "that's the best way to think about it," she beamed at Y/N the way Spencer did, she had that effect on people. They followed her into the dining room, taking a seat near each other and digging into all the food Taylor made for them.

“Ah,” Amoreena said as she finally joined them, sitting on her knees on Taylors nice antique chairs. “Shark coochie,” she whispers the words to herself, not able to stop her mind from repeating it, but still not wanting Taylor to hear it in case it was inappropriate. She was incredibly well-mannered for someone who had a hard time reading social queues.

“It’s a hard word to say,” Taylor agreed, making her feel less awkward. Spencer may have told her about her autism in advance, wanting his little girl to be respected by everyone she met, for who she truly was, “my mom called it a coochie spread once, actually, she's going to be over tomorrow for father's day.”

"Yes! Oh, I love Andrea," Amoreena laughed at how cool this day was, smiling at Taylor the way she smiled at him that first morning at breakfast like she just found yet another person to love. “You’re so wonderful, Taylor.”

“Oh, thank you, you're pretty enchanting yourself,” she smiles, “I take it you’ve known about me for your whole life?”

“Yep,” she smiled, reaching for a chocolate-covered strawberry and taking a huge bite, covering her mouth before she continued, “I was born a month after Red came out, November thirteenth, it really is a lucky number now, mom says so at least.”

“It is!” Taylor agreed with a smile, “I have some markers, do you want to wear matching 13’s today?”

“Mom, can I colour on my hand?” She turns so fast Spencer thinks she’ll get whiplash.

“Yeah, go for it!” She agrees, spreading cream cheese on a croissant and layering tomatoes on top, definitely pregnant.

So Taylor gets a marker and both their left hands now have matching numbers. Amoreena asks to take a million photos, eventually just taking Y/N’s phone from her, permanently, to take photos of all her favourite things around the house.

She runs off with the cats at a certain point, giving Y/N a chance to thank Taylor without tiny ears listening in. “Can I get really emotional and tell you how much you mean to me or is that too weird for our first chat?”

“Not weird at all, knowing you’ve used my music to raise that beautiful child makes me love you just as much, I’d love to hear why you picked me, of all musicians, to show her how to love,” Taylor replies, as regal and kindly as humanly possible.

“My first fiancé, Stephen, he was actually like an angel and our first kiss was quite literally in the rain, but he passed away in 2010,” she explained it with a smile so Taylor knew it wasn’t a touchy subject anymore, “I bonded with Fearless in a way I can’t even describe to you, it’s my life, he was my superstar, and white horse, I mean come on, I can’t tell you how many times I cried to that after he died but it helped me not feel alone. I wouldn’t be who I am without Fearless, and then Speak Now was there for me when I needed a good cry, Last Kiss really broke me but it wasn’t until Lover came out that I realized I could find someone again, and it’s always just like you released things as I needed them like you were helping me through all the bad things,” she’s never even told Spencer all this, it was special to him that he got to give her this moment.

“When you re-released it with the vault songs, I met Spencer literally a month later. I cried my eyes out to you all over me, but That’s When makes me think of Spencer and now the whole album has a new memory in my heart that’s better. It's just like why you re-released it, to replace the bad things that happened that took all the happiness out of something you cared so much about." Y/N took a second to breathe, shaky as she got to the end of her rant that she seemed to have prepared in the 20 minutes before she had to talk to her.

"I love you, honestly. You’re my best friend and you didn’t even know me then, but you’ve held my hand through it all, so thank you,” she cried a little, holding her belly with one hand as she tried to hold the tears in.

Taylor was out of her chair and in Y/N’s arms within seconds, crying into her arms as she held her. She rubbed Y/N’s back as she cried too, “I’m so sorry that happened, but I’m glad I could be there.”

“Do you want to be this baby's godmother?” She asks on impulse without even asking Spencer if he’s okay with it, he was, it made him laugh.

“Eleonora Taylor Reid,” Spencer says from across the table, making them both turn to him with wide eyes.

“Yes,” Y/N agrees fast, “that's the name if it’s a girl, if it’s a boy he can be Taylor as well?”

“Holy shit,” Taylor smiled wide, “yes, I want to come to visit the farm and buy them baby gifts and throw you a baby shower! I inadvertently helped make them so it’s only fair.”

“Hopefully she gets your voice too, Y/N,” Spencer adds and Y/N shoots him a panicked glance, “it’s the Taylor legacy to be a good singer.”

“You can sing?” The question Y/N feared coming past Taylor's lovely vocal cords, almost on queue.

Y/N can't help but glare at spencer, he had too many tricks up his sleeve and she was at her limit.

“Yes,” Y/N finally answers, “I was going to go to theatre school, but I switched to become a Librarian, I’m not good with crowds or competition and that's basically what the industry depends on. I like the quiet, telling stories on paper is just as easy as singing it to a crowd.”

“That's fair,” Taylor agreed, “would you and Amoreena like to sing some song with me? I have my guitar or the piano? I’m not used to having new friends over without sharing at least 1 song with them. I’m sure you’ve seen my listening parties?” She was really trying to convince her to sing, Spencer knew why and what she had planned.

Amoreena came running in then, “I can play piano too, can we do the long live new year's day from the tour movie?” She rests her hands on Taylor's arm, looking up at her with the biggest puppy dog eyes.

“Of course, come on,” she says taking Amoreena’s hand and rushing into the piano room. “Here, we’ll record it too,” she offered, setting her phone up on the music stand to capture the moment forever.

They sat side by side on the bench, Amoreena showing her how she could play the opening perfectly and surprising Spencer. He knew they had a piano at home, he’s just never seen her play it before.

“She has perfect pitch,” Y/N bragged, “she can play a song after hearing it once.”

“Really?” Spencer had no idea, unbelievably proud of her as he listened to her play.

She’s quietly playing the intro to Long Live as Taylor watches, joining in with the harmony of New Year's Day, “this one reminds me of my mom and dad.”

“Does it?” Taylor coo’s, smiling at her softly as Y/N tries not to cry beside Spencer.

“They’re the knight and the princess of our kingdom,” she explained before the two of them started singing the words together, like they always have, only Taylor was beside her and not just on the TV.

“I said remember this moment, in the back of my mind, the time we stood with our shaking hands, the crowds in the stands went wild,” Amoreena’s tiny voice lead-in, fearlessly as she played away.

“We were the Kings and the Queens, and they read off our names, the night you danced like you knew our lives would never be the same... You held your head like a hero, on a history book page... It was the end of a decade, but the start of an age,” Spencer couldn’t help but cry as she sang with Taylor.

This was on the concert movie, he showed her after school, this song came on and she was silent, listening to the words as she stared at him and then back at the TV. Her mind was connecting little dots, making a story about her mom and dad being the king and the queen, it all made sense now.

“Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you, I was screaming long live, all the magic we made and bring on all the pretenders, I’m not afraid,

Long live all the mountains we moved, I had the time of my life, fighting dragons with you, I was screaming long live, that look on your face, and bring on all the pretenders, one day, we will be remembered,”

Their fingers moved in sync on the keys as they harmonized almost perfectly, she wasn’t kidding about Amoreena having perfect pitch. She knew all the words and sang them almost louder than Taylor.

“And hold on to spinning around, confetti, falls to the ground. May these memories break our fall…”

The piano changes, the cords softer as they move into a new song, smiling at her mom and dad like she knew something. She had no idea what happened the night of the fake wedding, just that they had a party without her.

“And hold on… To spinning around… Confetti… Falls to the ground…”

Spencer wraps his arms around Y/N then, resting his chin on her shoulder as they sway to the tune, she’s barely whispering the words beside him as she smiles as her baby.

“There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor, you and me from the night before, but… Don’t read the last page, but I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared and you're turning away. I want, your midnights, I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

Y/N’s hands rest on top of Spencer’s, she squeezes them three times, right before the next lyric.

“You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi, I can tell that it's gonna be a long road. I’ll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe, or if you strike out and you're crawling home,

Don't read the last page, but I stay, when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes. I want, your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

“Hold on, to the memories, they will hold on to you,” the two of them chanting along with Taylor in beautiful harmony, Spencer felt like he was in heaven among the angels, but for real this time. “And I will hold on to you…”

The piano is so soft, it’s just Amoreena’s fingers hitting them as Taylor goes silent, letting her take the lead with a soft smile, “Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh, I, could recognize anywhere. Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh, I, could recognize anywhere.”

They stop for just a moment for Amoreena to smile up at Taylor, just like the break in the concert, “I really do love you,” she reminds them all before playing again.

“We love you, too, sweet girl,” Taylor replies for them using the same nickname for her because it was the truth. She was the sweetest girl, that Amoreena.

“There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor. You and me forevermore, don't read the last page, but I stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes and I want, your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

“Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you,” the girls all chant together, swaying back and forth to the rhythm before taking different parts in the song like they’ve planned it before.

“And Long live,” Taylor takes the one song, while Amoreena takes the other.

Please don't ever become a stranger…

The walls we crashed through..

Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere…

I had the time of my life

Please don't ever become a stranger…

With you…

Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere…"

Amoreena plays the rest, smiling wide at the best day of her life. Meaning every single word she’s saying. “And Long live, the walls we crashed through. I had the time of my life… With you…” Amoreena ends with a few extra notes, making Taylor smile as she held her in a side hug.

She turns back to the piano then, starting to play Amoreena by Elton John. “No way..” Y/N gasps, before getting ready to sing along with all the confidence in the world, alongside Taylor Swift of all people.

“It’s just that; Lately, I've been thinking, how much I miss my lady, Amoreena's in the hayfield, brightening the daybreak,” Taylor changes some of the words, much to Y/N surprise.

“Livin’ like a lusty flower, runnin’ through the grass for hours, rollin’ through the hay, oooh, like a puppy child! And when it rains, the rain falls down… washing out the cattle town… and she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown… And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by when we would lean… Laughing, fit to burst, upon each other…”

Y/N turns to Spencer then, singing to him softly as she wraps her arms around him and sways her hips to the song, pressing against him like they were in the movie Dirty Dancing, something she’s always wanted to do, clearly, with the smile on her face as she sings.

“I can see you sittin’, eatin’, apples in the evenin’. Fruit juice, flowing slowly, slowly, slowly down the bronze of your body. Livin’, like a lusty flower, runnin’ through the grass for hours, rollin’ through the hay, oooh, like a puppy child.”

Amoreena’s voice was the loudest in the chorus, this was her song after all. She belted it out like it was made for her.

“And when it rains, the rain falls down! Washing out the cattle town! And she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown! And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by! When we would lean, laughing, fit to burst upon each other…”

Spencer knew the words as well, who didn’t? It was Elton John's best song. He hugged Y/N, snuggling into the crook of her neck as they twirled in Taylor Swift's living room, swaying with her, forgetting they weren’t alone for a moment.

“Oh, if only I could nestle, in the cradle of your cabin. My arm's around your shoulder, oh… The window wide and open, while the swallow and the sycamore, whoa! Are playing in the valley. Oh, I miss you, Amoreena, like the king bee misses honey!”

“And when it rains, the rain falls down! Washing out the cattle town! and she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown! And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by when we would lean! Laughing, fit to burst upon each other, oooh!”

Amoreena and Taylor playing the iconic piano solo together, Y/N can’t help but move in closer to watch over her little girls shoulders.

“Lately, I've been thinking… How much I miss my lady… Amoreena's in a cornfield, brightening the daybreak. Livin’, like a lusty flower! Runnin; through the grass for hours! Rollin’ through the hay, woah! Like a puppy, like a puppy, child…” Y/N’s voice loud enough to be on the recording Taylor was making as the song ended.

Taylor stopped it then, just as Y/N swore, “holy shit, that was the coolest thing that’s ever happened in my whole life.”

“Mom,” Amoreena looked at her like she broke the law or something, “you don’t swear in front of her…” she mumbled.

Taylor laughed, wrapping her up in another hug, “have you heard champagne problems? It’s okay for big kids to swear here,” she teased her.

They laughed like they were family like they’ve been there before and were always meant to return. Something just clicked with them, and without a doubt, they’d be returning. Taylor Swift of all people slipped right into their little life, filling the shoes of big sister, best friend and coolest aunt in the world all in one day.

It was the most perfect afternoon.

—

Just before the sunset, they all changed into their wedding attire. Meeting out on the beach for their small, extremely intimate wedding ceremony with miss Taylor Swift. Getting it out of the way so they could have the whole weekend for whatever Taylor had planned for them. She said she had a few surprises up her sleeve still.

They filled out all the paperwork required on Taylor's kitchen table beforehand, she had all the right documents from when she registered to ordain online. All they had to do was submit it at town hall and they’d be legally married.

But it didn’t matter to them, this was enough.

Taylor and Amoreena stood side by side at a homemade arch on the beachfront that Taylor owned, waiting patiently for Spencer and Y/N to walk down the fake aisle, hand in hand. They couldn’t stop smiling as they saw Amoreena at the end, a big smile on her face as she bounced with excitement.

They reached the end, turning to each other, Amoreena took Y/N’s bouquet, it was her duty as maid of honour and best man.

“Spencer and I have been emailing for 2 weeks about today, he’s been filling me in little by little about you both as he got to know you, I’ve really gotten to see his love for you in the form of letters,” Taylor described with a large smile on her face.

Y/N looks at him with an open mouth, shocked as she shakes her head in disbelief at him. “You’re kidding, is she who emailed you when we had lunch 2 weeks ago?”

Spencer nodded with another cheeky smile, “she emailed me as you told me not to plan anything too crazy.”

Y/N just laughed at the insanity, “sorry Taylor, please continue.”

“It’s okay,” she laughed along, “it’s actually kind of interesting how Amoreena picked long live and New Year’s Day to sing because from what I’ve learned about you both, the intermission poem from that tour really was written for you, somehow. Almost like by design or some violent, exquisite happenstance…”

Y/n’s eyed do that thing they always do when she’s remembering something she’s heard before, finding the exact filing cabinet in her mind and opening it. She finds the words.

“When she fell, she fell apart. Cracked her bones on the pavement she once decorated as a child with sidewalk chalk,” she starts the poem with a small nod, letting Taylor continue the monologue in the form of vows.

“When’s she crashed, her clothes disintegrated. And blew away with the winds that took all of her fair-weather friends, family and lovers. When she looked around her skin was spattered with ink. Forming the words of a thousand voices, echoes she heard even in her sleep: whatever you say, it is not right. Whatever you do, it is not enough. Your kindness is fake. Your pain is manipulative.”

Y/N hasn’t watched the concert recently, unlike Spencer. She didn’t realize how much it sounded like them. Spencer, however, spotted the coincidences the second he heard it that night with Amoreena. Telling Taylor, explaining in detail how Maeve and Stephen were their personal last kiss storylines, but they’ve found a lover in each other. Cheesy, but it was the best way he could describe it.

“When she lay there on the ground she dreamed of time machines and revenge. And a love that was really something. Not just the idea of something.”

She turned her attention to Spencer, replacing the pronouns to fit him for the next part, Y/N looked at him already knowing why, smiling as she made the connection in her mind.

“When he finally rose, he rose slowly. Avoiding old haunts and sidestepping shiny pennies. Wary of phone calls and promises, charmers, dandies and get-love-quick-schemes.

When he stood, he stood with a desolate knowingness, waded out into the dark wild oceans up to his neck. Bathed in his brokenness. Said a prayer of gratitude, for each chink in the armour he never knew he needed.

Standing broad-shouldered next to him, was a love that was really something. Not just the idea of something.

When they turned to go home, they heard echoes of new words: may your heart remain breakable but never by the same hand twice. And even louder: without your past, you could never have arrived so wondrously and brutally, by design or some violent, exquisite happenstance… here.”

“What she said,” Y/N says with a quick giggle, leaning in as she laughs, taking him down in a giggle fit with her.

Amoreena’s lightly tugging on Taylor’s dress then, “you have to say it, please you can’t not say it, I had this planned out before I even knew you’d beee here…” she whispers like Taylor has any clue what she’s talking about.

Y/N just starts to shake her head with a smile, “I think she means the speak now bridge,” she reminds her.

“Ahh,” she smiles, picking Amoreena up to be at eye level with them all, she sings. “I hear the preacher say speak now or forever hold, your, pee-E-eeace,” she sings it exactly like it is on the album, almost as if she’s been practicing to release it again…

“There’s the silence there’s my last chance, I stand up with shaking hands all eyes, on me,” Amoreena lightly signs right back. “Horrified looks from everyone in the room but I’m only looking at you!”

Spencer laughs then too, smiling at his little girl living out the fantasy of a lifetime, seeing her mom dressed like a princess and marrying the broken knight with rusty armour, while Taylor Swift of all people holds her. Nothing about the life they had together felt real, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I think it’s only fair if I get a say in who marries my mom because I’ve known her the longest,” she adds, “and I’m not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on this white veil occasion, but you happen to be the best dad in the whole world, so I think it’s cool that you love my mom.”

Y/N lets out a choked sob, she clearly had no idea that Amoreena was planning to say all that, but of course, she was. She knew all about every single Disney princess wedding, every fairytale ending and happily ever after, Taylor has helped her learn about love and vows and true feelings that cannot be stopped.

She knew what to say and she meant every word.

Spencer reaches out to take Amoreena from Taylor, holding her in his arms instead as Y/N snuggled in close to them, both his girls in his arms.

“I think it’s only fair I give some vows to you as well, I’m committing my whole life to this family, you should know how much that means I love you, too, Amoreena.” She snuggles in closer to his neck as she holds him back, Y/N’s head resting on his other shoulder.

“Till the day I die, I am going to be here for you: with unconditional love, with the best stories and the best morning cuddles. I don’t care if you pull me out of bed at 5 in the morning to feed the goats, or the chickens or just because you think the sun looks pretty and want me to see it too. I love you Amoreena, you’ve completed my life."

"Do you remember that day you asked me to be your dad?” his voice is so soft as he bumps her cheek with his nose.

She wipes her tears as she pulls away from his shoulder, overly emotional at the events of the day and extremely tired from the excitement she let out earlier. She nods softly, “I meant it.”

“I know honey,” he can’t help but start to cry a little as well, dropping his manly facade and being real with her. She deserved to see exactly what she meant to him, “I watched you pouring glitter glue all over that table, making the biggest mess ever, but it made me think… I had a hole in my heart for so many years, there was a part of me missing for so, so, so long, and then I found a little Eden by beautiful little kingdom, and the fairest lady in all the land took me in, and she patched up my broken heart with glitter glue.”

Amoreena tried to smile the tears away, sniffling as she tried to nod, “that's how I felt when you told me I could pick you to be my dad.”

Y/N was a sobbing mess, having to crouch down to her knees as she let it all out, steadying herself by holding onto Spencer’s leg like a child would at that height, “is she okay?” Amoreena worried.

“Your mom loves us so much, and the baby does too, so it’s making her a bit more emotional than normal,” he explains, wishing he could scoop Y/N up and hold her as well.

She wipes the tears from her face as she calms herself down and stands back up with help from Taylor, “thank you,” she manages to whisper to her with a smile.

She’s also been crying, watching the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. A family built on true love coming together, using her songs to form a bond that she’d never understand.

And she didn’t want to, some stories were best kept in families, to be sent down the line, generation after generation, to fall into the lap of someone like her one day and create a whole world with it.

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband, wife and daughter, the royal Reid family,” Taylor’s voice is soft as she plays along with Amoreena’s fantasy land, hushed to match the moment as Spencer leaned in to kiss Y/N.

Amoreena doesn’t cry out in disgust this time, instead, resting her head on her dad's shoulder as she watched them peck each other's lips gently. Watching a fairytale happy ending unfold in front of her very eyes, blessed to be the result of this happy union.

...

A/N: my anon is on now if anyone wants to come talk about the fic with me!! i love to share little hc's and things with you over here (also this was the original planned ending I wasn't going to continue past here but I'm probably going to write this for the next 10 years its too fun not to)

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

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jingabitch · 3 years

Text

Asmodeus

SUMMARY: While trying to summon a demon, you have an encounter with Namjoon.

PAIRING: Namjoon x witch!reader

GENRE: smut

WARNINGS: demons and witches and stuff, dirty sex in a graveyard, oral sex (f receiving), plot twist, kinda dark-ish?

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: banner by @kookspierogis, beta-ed by @hesperantha, inspired by an ask by @wwilloww. Hope you guys enjoy it (and appreciate that I actually managed to get this out well before my scheduled deadline!).

You pulled your jacket more tightly around your body and hitched your backpack up slightly, looking behind your shoulder to make sure you weren’t being followed. This graveyard gave you the creeps, and you really didn’t know why you’d agreed to do this in the middle of the night. Was joining this coven really that important? Couldn’t you have attempted to summon a demon somewhere indoors and, most importantly, warm?

Sighing at your earlier self for making such poor decisions, you watched as your breath fogged up in front of you. “Jesus,” you muttered. Maybe you should just get this done as quickly as possible, so you could go back home and snuggle up under your warm duvet.

Finally reaching the small clearing in the middle of the cemetery, you stared up at the imposing griffin statue for a second before walking up to it and putting your backpack on the ground, leaning it against the base of the statue and kneeling down to take the necessary items out. Your grandmother’s grimoire, the candles, the ceremonial dagger.

It was so cold that your fingers were frozen, making it difficult to get the candles out of their plastic wrapper. Cursing, you blew on your hands and rubbed them together before picking up the package to try again.

Placing the five candles in a circle, you stepped into the middle and opened the book to the right page. “Why are all the summoning spells in ancient Latin?” you wondered to yourself, before kneeling on the ground and placing the book down in front of you.

As you chanted the first line of the spell, you felt the power start flowing through your veins, hot and electric, and placed your palm against the ground. As soon as your hand made contact, you clenched your teeth against the strange feeling of the magic leaving your body, shooting into the ground in the direction of the candles, which lit up immediately.

It was a windy night, but that didn’t matter, because the flames were fueled by your magic. A pentagram with the five points marked out by the candles began to glow on the ground, enclosed within a circle.

Lifting your palm off the ground, you refocused your attention on the spell in the book, picking up the knife by your side for the blood sacrifice. You would have to slice your palm open and drip a few drops of blood into the middle of the pentagram to bind your soul to the demon.

Before you could start chanting again, however, you heard the telltale rustling sound of leaves crunching underfoot, and whipped your head around. As you turned, you caught sight of someone standing behind you, staring down at you.

“What are you doing here?” you snapped, trying to hide your panic and shock.

He shrugged. “I could ask you the same question,” he pointed out, drawing closer.

Your mind kicked into overdrive, trying to find some rational explanation that wouldn’t lead to you being kicked out of the graveyard or arrested or sent to a mental facility.

“Giving a prayer to my grandparents,” you offered. It was a piss-poor excuse, and you knew it, but it was too late to do anything but double down. “They were really spiritual.”

He raised a brow at you.

“Anyway,” you continued defensively, “what are you doing here?” By which, of course, you meant, how had you missed him?

He stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight, and your breath caught in your throat. Holy hell, how had you missed the fact that he was beautiful? Tall and broad, wearing a long black coat over a black turtleneck which contrasted against his ash grey hair. The coat wasn’t buttoned up, and you could see the YSL logo next to the buckle of his belt.

“Paying my respects,” he said vaguely. “I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

You stood up, compelled somehow by his gaze. “Y/n,” you introduced yourself against your better judgement. When it came to creeps in graveyards at midnight, you could never be too careful, you’d always thought, and yet your mouth had betrayed you before you could think it through.

He was just so beautiful it was disconcerting. Growing up around other witches, you’d never really been around men all that much, and you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself

“You shouldn’t be hanging around places like these late at night, you know,” he cautioned. His voice was soft and low, pleasing to the ears. You strained to hear more of it.

He stepped closer still, until he stopped right outside the circle you’d marked out with your candles. “You never know who’s going to be around.”

“Like you?” you shot back breathlessly. The moonlight reflected off his fair skin, making him all but glow in the darkness of the night.

The half-smirk he gave you was sinister, dark and dangerous. It should scare you, but instead you felt arousal coil in your lower belly.

“Exactly like me,” he agreed easily. He smiled at you, showing off his dimples.

“You don’t look very dangerous,” you observed.

“Well, maybe you should take a closer look, then,” he invited with a shrug.

Step out of the pentagram? You hesitated for a moment. One of the first things you’d been taught when you started learning magic was never to do that – the pentagram was the only thing that protected you from the demon you were summoning. Outside of it, the balance of power shifted dramatically.

But Namjoon raised his hand, palm out, for you, and before you knew it, your hand was in his and you let him pull you out of the pentagram. “You mean like this?” you asked as you slung your other arm around his shoulders.

You thought you saw his eyes flash, but dismissed it as a trick of the light in the second before his lips descended on yours. “No, I meant like this,” he growled.

Your eyes snapped shut immediately as you lost yourself in the feeling of his lips moving against yours. It had been so long since you’d been kissed, and never like this. Never with such skill and dexterity. His hands crept up your abdomen under your shirt, and even though they should have been cold, his fingers were deliciously warm, making you want to press yourself against him like a cat.

He backed you up into the base of the statue, crowding close and pressing the hard rod of his erection into your belly as he towered over you. It should have been menacing, but everything was, instead, endlessly titillating.

“You like that?” he said in a low, raspy voice that tied your stomach in knots. “You do, don’t you?”

You didn’t have it in you to answer, but he certainly didn’t need you to reply verbally. Not when the way you mewled as you tried to get closer to him, sliding your hands greedily into his coat, told him everything he needed to know.

Witches were always so easy. These closed communities of all-female witches meant it was difficult for them to have their needs met, and they were consequently easy pickings for any man who happened to set his eyes on them. Really, he thought, you’d think that after so many years, they’d have wised up to the pitfalls of the coven structure, but it appeared not.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he promised darkly, the sound making heat pool in your lower belly as you clenched on yourself, uncomfortably aware of how empty you felt. His fingers trailed down your abdomen now, in the opposite direction from before, headed for the button on your jeans.

You barely registered the fact that he was pushing you back gently until your back hit the base of the statue, knocking the air out of your lungs. He crowded close, pressing you back into it, towering over you with his broad frame. One of his hands pushed your sweater up, bunching the fabric under your arms, while his other undid the button on your jeans, sneaking his fingers into your panties.

He didn’t bother to hide his satisfaction, letting out a small noise and lifting his head to smirk down at you. “You’re so wet,” he purred, running his fingers along your slit. With a precision that seemed almost inhuman, he found your clit, rubbing his slickened fingers across it.

A choked moan forced its way out of you as you threw your head back against the cool marble of the statue’s base, your eyes fluttering shut as you rocked your hips into his fingers.

The feeling of him withdrawing his hand from your panties was so objectionable that you opened your eyes, making a sound of indignation. All fight automatically left you, however, when you saw him sucking on his fingers, staring you down with hooded eyes. “I want to taste it from the source,” he told you, his voice deep.

Holding back a shudder, you nodded. “Yeah, we can definitely do that,” you managed, your voice shaky.

He leaned down to kiss you, then started trailing kisses down your neck, before kneeling. Your eyes wide, you watched him get on his knees as you started pulling your sweater down, back over your body.

“Don’t,” he said, a steely undercurrent in his voice that sent a little shiver down your spine. The glint in his eyes let you know that he meant business. Still, despite being mid-hook up with a random stranger in a graveyard – you stared down the neat rows of tombstones – you hadn’t taken complete leave of your senses.

“It’s cold,” you protested with a pout.

“Don’t worry,” he told you. His voice oozed with confidence. “You won’t get cold.”

You were about to say more, but he silenced you with a stern look. With a sigh, you acquiesced, lifting the shirt back up as you leaned your head back against the statue. You were going to catch your death out here, you thought mournfully, staring up at the full, round, white moon. Hopefully he’d at least get you to the little death first.

He ripped your jeans and panties down your legs, knocking off one of your sneakers carelessly as he did so. Your clothes remained bunched around the other ankle, in what surely was the most undignified position you’d ever been in.

Then his tongue touched your body, and as you stiffened and squeaked in surprise, all of those thoughts flew out of your head. The only thing that mattered to you was how talented he was with the appendage, and you adjusted your stance to give him greater access.

Namjoon lapped at your slit with long, broad strokes, bumping your clit every time. You rocked your hips slightly to get more friction, and he reacted by holding your hips still with his strong, big hands, making the thought that he must be the devil flash across your mind in frustration. Then he shifted closer, using his broad shoulders to open your legs wider, and placed his mouth on your pussy, and that last shred of coherent thought left the chat.

The hand holding your sweater up drifted slightly, your fingers ducking into the cup of your bra to circle your nipple as your thumb stayed hooked under the cozy knit material. Your other hand slid down your bare abdomen before your fingers threaded themselves through his hair just to have something to hold on to as he relentlessly attacked your clit.

“Mmf, fuck,” you mumbled around a lock of hair that had fallen into your mouth with all the thrashing around you were doing. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered but Namjoon and his wonderful, awful tongue. Tears squeezed out of your eyes, which were tightly shut, running down the sides of your face.

“That’s it,” he encouraged you as he detached for a second to catch his breath, using his thumb to rub over your clit as he fucked you with his fingers. “You’re close, aren’t you? Come for me like a good girl,” he said slightly breathlessly before once more ducking his head to your core.

Helplessly, you obeyed, your entire body seizing up as you clenched around his fingers, rocking your hips against him as you rode out your orgasm.

When it was over, you slumped limply against the marble statue, blinking up at him with slightly blurry vision as he rose to his full height. In the pale, weak light of the full moon, his cheeks and chin gleamed. He didn’t bother to wipe it away, instead grinning down at you as he braced his weight on the statue, his hands on either side of your shoulders.

“Good girl,” he purred as he leaned in to kiss you. You tilted your head up automatically to receive his kiss, uncaring of the fact that you could taste yourself on his lips. As he slid his tongue against yours sensuously, you eagerly reached to unbutton his trousers. With a chuckle, he leaned back to give you more space, but didn’t otherwise help you.

You were so distracted trying to get into his pants that you didn’t notice how warm your fingers were. You still had full mobility, contrary to your expectations that you’d be frozen solid by now, after his insistence that you expose yourself to the elements the way he’d ordered you to.

Then your hands were full of dick, and you moaned in unison. You would have been more embarrassed about that had your body not been thrumming with arousal still. It had just been so long since you’d touched a man. Training to become a witch didn’t leave you with much free time or access, after all.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” he continued praising you, his voice gone raspy as you stroked him. You were about to get on your knees to return the favour, but he stopped you, instead hoisting you up and pressing you against the statue. There was a vague sense of being pinned like an insect, but the thought vanished like so many had tonight the moment you felt him pressing, hot and hard, against you.

Then you felt your softness yield to him as he pushed into you, sliding deep into you with a grunt. Your fingers scrabbled for purchase along his shoulders, but the solid wool coat resisted. The cashmere of his sweater brushed against your skin, and although it was the softest, most luxurious sweater you’d ever felt, it was almost abrasive, reminding you that although you were pretty much fully exposed, he was still completely clothed.

Your head tipped back helplessly. You felt so incredibly full, the stretch riding the line between pleasure and pain. Namjoon, in response, bent his head to the exposed skin of your neck, pressing soft, wet kisses to the sensitive flesh that turned into sucking.

“Namjoon,” you gasped, and he lifted his head to look down at you. For a split second, it seemed like his irises were glowing red, but he blinked and then it was gone, and you dismissed it as a trick of the light. Your paranoia and discomfort from earlier must have seeped into your subconscious somehow. Ridiculous, really, since as a witch, you were probably the thing to be feared the most in the graveyard tonight.

His hand came up, long fingers stretching around the column of your neck.

“You’re mine,” he snarled. The unexpectedly possessive statement should have alarmed you. After all, he was a random stranger you’d met in dubious circumstances, even if you were currently getting to know each other on a very intimate level. Instead of uneasiness, however, his declaration only served to egg you on more, the rightness of it all settling deep within your bones.

Simultaneously, he pulled his hips back and then thrust into you again, bumping your clit with his pelvis.

“Yesss,” you groaned, although you weren’t sure if it was in response to his words or his actions. How was it possible for a man to be this good with his hips? The few sexual encounters you’d had before this had been fumbling, awkward and ultimately, you’d thought after, not worth it. Namjoon was like a whole different species.

He seemed to enjoy your enthusiastic approval, if the satisfied smirk he shot you was any indication. His body moved like a lithe, well-oiled machine, his arms hitching you up slightly higher to adjust the angle as he slammed into you. There would definitely be bruises on your hips from where they were hitting the marble, but it would be so worth it.

Helpless moans and yelps filled the air. As wrecked as you were, the only indication you had that he was feeling the same way was the way his breaths puffed against your neck. He seemed completely composed otherwise, keeping up a stream of filth murmured into your ear, so lewd it made even you blush.

There was no way, you thought, hurtling towards your second orgasm of the night, that he was a regular man. This level of prowess… it had to be something else.

As your moans reached a crescendo, Namjoon growled again, a delicious sound to your ears. You felt his mouth open slightly against your neck and felt the press of his teeth, but you were distracted and dismissed it as him taking in a gulp of air.

A second later, he struck. His teeth sank so deeply into your flesh that blunt human teeth couldn’t have done it. You should have been terrified, should have pushed him away and run screaming, but instead – completely bizarrely – the searing pain pushed you over the precipice. You came harder than you ever had in your life, the sensations so strong that they teetered on the fine line between pleasure and pain.

When the wave finally ebbed, you sagged against the marble of the statue, your arms loosening around Namjoon’s neck. He was approaching his own orgasm, you could feel it from the way his hips stuttered against yours. Thankfully, he’d removed his teeth from your neck, although he continued lapping haphazardly at the wound.

Exhausted, you marshalled the last of your strength to straighten up. “Come on,” you urged, stroking the back of his neck. Sweat was dripping down it and into his collar, you noted absently. When he finally released into you, it was a relief for the both of you.

In the wake of everything, you both slumped against the statue. The air felt almost eerily still and quiet after everything that had transpired before, and awkwardness started setting in.

Slightly uncomfortable now, you wriggled to be let down, and he acquiesced, stepping away to give you some room. You immediately began tugging on your clothes, trying to put yourself back to rights and studiously avoiding eye contact with him.

“Well,” you said in a voice that seemed entirely too loud, piercing through the silence that had settled over the graveyard. “That was fun.”

“Yes,” he said in a slightly amused voice. “I hope you don’t make a habit of this, though.”

Frowning, you raised your head to glare at him. “And what if I do?” you asked slightly irritably. You weren’t really in the mood to be judged for a random hookup by the man who’d just been railing you into next week.

He shrugged, raising his hands up placatingly. You turned away from him and bent to pick up your things. There was no way you were summoning a demon tonight, you thought. Your concentration was shot to hell, and your energy was all over the place. You’d have to try again tomorrow night.

Namjoon perched on a gravestone nearby, the disrespect of him sitting so cavalierly on someone’s headstone making you cringe internally. “I’ll see you around, I guess,” he said, watching you pack your things.

“Uh, yeah…” you said, your voice betraying your confusion. Who was in the habit of continuing to meet their random hookups? You knew it was probably one of those polite platitudes people exchanged, but the way he’d said it was different, like he really did mean it.

Namjoon laughed at your tone. “You didn’t think you’d escape me that easily, did you?” he asked, standing up. His hands were in his pockets as he walked towards you, looking completely nonchalant. Leaning in, he raised his hand to your neck, running his thumb over the bite mark he’d left. His face was so close to yours that for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you again, but instead, he looked you directly in the eyes. “You’re mine now, after all,” he purred, as his eyes flashed red again.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart started pounding again, although for an entirely different reason this time. This was definitely not a trick of the light, and now that your brain wasn’t so clouded, all the little warning signs you’d dismissed earlier came back to mind.

“Who are you?” you breathed, trying to stop the tremor in your voice.

He chuckled and stepped away from you.

“My name is Namjoon,” he told you, shrugging. As he turned and started walking away into the darkness, though, he called over his shoulder, “But you might know me better by my title, Asmodeus.”

Shocked, you slapped your hand over the bite mark, staring at him as the fog swallowed his tall, lithe figure up. Asmodeus, the demon of lust. So you had managed to summon a demon after all. And, it seemed, a high-ranking one.

Running your fingers over the bite mark, you couldn’t stop the satisfaction from bleeding through you. As a disciple of Asmodeus, you were sure to rise through the ranks of the coven in no time.

#bts smut #bts fic #bts scenario #kim namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

Play date with the Lans and Nies! Except it's Nie Mingjue training with little Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen painting with Nie Huaisang! Baby brothers getting crushes!!!! Adorable all around!!!!!

Lan Xichen had been told several times not to expect that things would be the same as they’d been the last time he’d visited Qinghe and the Unclean Realm.

It was unusual that he’d visited before at all, in fact; usually, the heirs to the Great Sects were raised very firmly in their own traditions before allowed to venture out to meet any others – often only in their teenage years, when they were wise enough to learn from others without losing the core of their ancestor’s teaching. But his uncle had been friends with old sect leader Nie, personal friends in addition to being allies, and so he’d had the chance to visit once before, a few years back.

He’d enjoyed that visit.

He’d been very young, younger than Lan Wangji was now – sometimes he felt he was still younger than Lan Wangji, who was not quite nine years old but very solemn about it – but Nie Mingjue was very nice to him, showing him around and playing games with him very earnestly as if he hadn’t had any friends at all.

It didn’t feel at all like the older boy had been humoring him. They’d even gotten in trouble with their parents together, having tried to switch their baby brothers around so that old Nie would stop complaining about his child’s low vitality and Lan Xichen’s Uncle could have some peace and quiet from Lan Wangji’s very effective lungs at last.

Things would be different now, of course.

Lan Xichen was nearly thirteen years old, on the verge of adulthood (in the technical sense, anyway), but Nie Mingjue…

Nie Mingjue was already Sect Leader.

(It puzzled Lan Xichen a little, how someone he remembered as being only a few years older than him could have so quickly shot into the ranks of real adulthood – were there really six years between them? It didn’t seem possible, but then again, he had spent his childhood visit looking up at Nie Mingjue from a great distance...)

It was Nie Mingjue, not old Nie, who greeted them at the door, and who sat with Uncle in the study to drink tea and talk politics. And when he was done with that, he had to go and deal with sect business, first a table full of papers that Lan Xichen would never be allowed to look at and then a hall full of people asking questions and after that he had to lead saber training for the Nie sect disciples.

It wasn’t until right before bedtime in Gusu that Lan Xichen was able to find time to talk to his friend.

“You look tired,” he said, and Nie Mingjue smiled a little, nodding in agreement. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Nie Mingjue rubbed his eyes. “Can you spend some time with Huaisang tomorrow? I haven’t had as much time for him as I’d like, these past few days, and he’s only just barely started being able to handle being away from me for a few hours without going into a panic.”

“Certainly,” Lan Xichen said, and a beautiful idea appeared in his brain. “And I’ll send Wangji to you, of course.”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him.

“We did always say they’d make a good trade,” Lan Xichen said, and smiled when Nie Mingjue laughed.

The next morning, Lan Xichen told Lan Wangji that his duty for the day was to go and help Sect Leader Nie with whatever he needed, which Lan Wangji accepted with a deep, solemn nod that suggested he was preparing to go to war.

“It won’t be that bad,” Lan Xichen coaxed. “It’s only Mingjue-xiong. Don’t you remember when he came to visit Gusu a few years back? You sparred with him a few times, and later –”

Lan Wangji’s ears abruptly turned bright red and he shook his head furiously to forestall any further commentary. Lan Xichen pressed his lips together to keep from laughing; Lan Wangji had had the most adorable crush on Nie Mingjue in those days.

“You know,” Lan Xichen said innocently, “given that it’s morning, I think you’ll probably find Mingjue-xiong at the training grounds…”

Lan Wangji was gone faster than the wind.

Still chuckling, Lan Xichen went to go find his own charge. Nie Huaisang had been sick with allergies during part of their visit to Gusu, staying inside so he wouldn’t make them worse, so Lan Xichen hadn’t had much of an impression of him – he remembered a little dumpling, a round face with a vivacious smile and an awful lot of giggling, a sunny contrast to Lan Wangji’s natural seriousness.

The shy, skinny child that flinched away from him and hid his face away behind a fan wasn’t anything like the child he’d remembered.

Nie Mingjue had said something about Nie Huaisang having developed a tendency to have brief attacks of heightened panic, Lan Xichen remembered, which were worsened if he couldn’t lay eyes on his elder brother for any extended period of time. He must be afraid of losing his brother the way he’d lost his father, which Lan Xichen could understand – the painful memory of being told his mother wasn’t there anymore still stung bitterly anytime he let himself think too much about it, and it’d been years, not months.

(Nie Mingjue’s visit had been the only thing that had managed to lift Lan Wangji’s gloom after the death of their mother, and Lan Xichen would be forever indebted to him for that. Even if he’d never tell him the exact reason – Lan Wangji would immediately expire out of sheer embarrassment if he ever did.)

“I’m going to be spending time with you today,” Lan Xichen announced, and Nie Huaisang looked more resigned than anything else, turning his head gloomily to look at where his saber was sitting in its proper place. “How do you feel about painting?”

Nie Huaisang paused and very slowly turned his head back to look at Lan Xichen suspiciously. “…real painting?”

“With ink and colors and everything,” Lan Xichen promised. He knew that Qinghe Nie tended to believe that physical exercise was a good antidote to grief, but he’d personally found that art worked better for him as an escape – maybe the same would be true for Nie Huaisang. “We can go paint some landscapes. Or maybe we can see if we can find any birds?”

There were a lot of birds in Qinghe, and all different types, too. It was as if every time Lan Xichen turned his head, there was a new explosion of feathers in some new configuration.

“I like birds,” Nie Huaisang murmured, his voice very soft.

“We’ll keep an eye out for any we see, then,” Lan Xichen said enthusiastically. “If we can catch one, I’ll convinced your brother to let you keep it.”

Nie Huaisang’s face brightened, and Lan Xichen was sure it wouldn’t be hard to convince Nie Mingjue to let his brother keep a few animals, not if he could see that smile. “Really? I can keep one at home?”

“Really.”

“It’s safe now?” Nie Huaisang asked, hopping off the bed to go put his hand in Lan Xichen’s.

Lan Xichen thought that was an odd question, but nodded again. “We’ll buy a nice bronze cage in the market,” he said, thinking that Nie Huaisang might be worried about cats or something – another notable feature of Qinghe. Stray cats everywhere. “That’ll keep it safe.”

“Steel is better,” Nie Huaisang said as Lan Xichen led him out. “Bronze will bend if a fist hits it hard enough; it won’t protect whatever’s inside.”

“Steel it is, then,” Lan Xichen said. He’d only thought that bronze would match the décor of Nie Huaisang’s bedroom; steel would clash and ruin the feng shui. “Maybe plated in bronze?”

“That works!”

“I’m a Sect Leader now,” Nie Mingjue told Lan Wangji, who was standing at attention better than some of the adult Nie sect disciples. “What I need right now are good lieutenants. Are you capable?”

Lan Wangji nodded firmly.

“It won’t be that interesting,” Nie Mingjue warned him. “If you think you’ll get bored and want to wander off –”

“I won’t,” Lan Wangji said, and there was a note of determination and pride in his voice that made Nie Mingjue want to pick him up with one arm and give him a hug the way he’d done in the past.

He didn’t, of course. For one thing, it’d be beneath his dignity as a Sect Leader to so causally embrace a child from another sect – or anyone, for that matter; for another, Lan Wangji had always had a great deal of pride for a child, and Nie Mingjue had long ago figured out that the best way to deal with pride was to offer respect where it was due.

“Very well then,” Nie Mingjue said. “I will count on you.”

Lan Wangji lifted his head and clenched his fists, his eyes shining, and his expression only became more and more happy (in that barely-noticeable way he had) when he realized Nie Mingjue was giving him tasks that actually needed doing, rather than merely filling the time to entertain him.

Nie Mingjue wouldn’t have done the latter regardless – he’d always disdained the idea of condescending to a child like that – but as a matter of fact he did need the help: someone to write things down as he made decisions, to survey things and report back to him what he saw, to arrange that he would have fresh ink before he noticed he was out, to put signatures on things that needed to be signed once Nie Mingjue had approved the idea, to inconspicuously serve tea during important political discussions while keeping enough of an ear out to be able to remind Nie Mingjue of everything that had been discussed later…

His advisers were right; he really did need a deputy. Possibly several of them, if he couldn’t find one competent enough to serve alone.

“Wangji,” he said towards the end of the day, and Lan Wangji looked up at him from where he was faithfully copying out one of the letters that needed to go out before the end of the day. He was barely tall enough to sit properly at the table, but his calligraphy was perfect. “You helped me a great deal today. Well done.”

Lan Wangji nodded and looked back down to finish off the letter, only the redness of his ears revealing his embarrassment.

They went down to the entrance to meet Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, who were returning from their outing for the day – Nie Huaisang was clutching a giant bird cage covered in a cloth, with a smile that almost looked like the one from last year, from before, and Lan Xichen had paint splattered on his face and white clothing.

“Do I want to know?” he asked Lan Xichen dryly as he gestured for the two children to greet each other, but Lan Xichen only laughed.

“I promised him he could keep whatever we found,” he said with a smile. “Also, Huaisang has some paintings he wants to show you. If you like them, you might consider hanging one up in your office.”

He will hang them all up no matter how ugly they are, Nie Mingjue decides immediately. He doesn’t say that out loud, merely nods and says, “We’ll see, then.”

“How was Wangji?” Lan Xichen asked. “He didn’t bother you, did he?”

“Don’t be absurd, Wangji’s a good boy,” Nie Mingjue said. “And an excellent deputy. If he wasn’t your brother, I’d try to steal him away from you.”

“He might like that,” Lan Xichen said, looking at Lan Wangji fondly. “Maybe when he’s a little older, I can send him here for a season, to improve his cultivation –”

Lan Wangji didn’t do anything as crass as nod furiously, but his expression showed distinct signs of interest; he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to Nie Huaisang, who was rambling into his ear.

“And perhaps I’ll send Huaisang to the Cloud Recesses for your uncle’s teaching,” Nie Mingjue replied, mildly hopeful – it was out of the question right now, with Nie Huaisang only sleeping through the night half the days in the week and never when he was on his own, but it would be nice, in the future. He thought that his younger brother would enjoy the serenity of Gusu.

“– and then we caught a bird, look!” Nie Huaisang concluded, pulling the cover off the birdcage.

Nie Mingjue glanced over, then did a double-take and stared.

“Xichen,” he said, with admirable restraint. “Did you actually promise that my brother would be allowed to keep a vicious flesh-eating hawk?”

“There’s no way a hawk is that small,” Lan Xichen said. After a second of observing Nie Mingjue’s face, he added, a little weakly, “…right?”

#mdzs #lan xichen #lan wangji #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #possibly this is the background to Pastime (With Good Company)#but it can also stand alone #Anonymous

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giuliafc · 3 years

Text

Betrayal

Chapter 1: A Frightening Discovery

Ao3 || FFN

Written by: JuliaFC

Beta: Miraculyfe, Coffeebanana, @lots-of-free-time myimaginationflows

Summary: A quick chat with Nathalie leaves Chat Noir terrified. She needs him to pass on a message to Ladybug. And that message changes everything.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Written for the "Snippet July" challenge of the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server @miraculousfanworks AND for LadyNoir July @ladynoirjuly Day 12 — Betrayal/Blush. Let me know what you think!

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Adrien, wait!"

Chat Noir froze. He had just started the recording on top of his piano, transformed and walked towards his window to jump out and join his Lady for patrol. The very last thing he would have ever expected to hear was Nathalie calling his civilian name, addressing his transformed self.

He slowly turned, feeling his heart pounding in his ears. He looked at Nathalie standing tall, albeit a little pale, in front of the entrance of his room.

"E-excuse me?" he asked, praying that Nathalie would believe that he and Ladybug had just abducted Adrien, but his lie died at the tip of his tongue when he met Nathalie's unimpressed gaze.

"I saw you transforming. Multiple times, Adrien. Save your excuses for someone else. And sit down, I need to talk to you." She adjusted her glasses unnecessarily, a gesture Adrien knew she did when she was nervous or annoyed. He replaced his baton behind his back and sat at his desk chair, his heart still drumming—he was so in trouble. Nathalie began to walk towards him, but staggered badly and held onto the wall next to her.

"Nathalie! Nathalie take a seat, please!" He stood to offer his seat, but Nathalie shook her head and gingerly walked towards his bed, sitting down at the edge of it.

"Some time ago, I came into your room to inform you of a photoshoot schedule change. I found your ipod playing the music you should have been playing, like now." She must've noticed that he'd paled, because she reassured, "I haven't told your father."

Chat Noir breathed a sigh of relief.

"W-what did you want to talk about? I'm meeting Ladybug for patrol in a few minutes." He blushed profusely and looked down, a hand on his nape. "Or m-maybe not…"

Nathalie's smile was stern. "You will. And you'll pass on a message to Ladybug, on my behalf."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Chat Noir was still as pale as a sheet when he sat atop the usual rooftop where he and Ladybug met for patrol. She was late. Why was she late, today of all days?

His heart was beating madly in his chest as he kept looking around: left, right, ahead, behind. In the space of five minutes he stood up to pace the rooftop at least forty times. He kept looking around and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the familiar thump behind him.

"Sorry, Chaton. I didn't want to scare you!" He turned around and the girl was shocked to see the tears streaming down his eyes. "Oh my God, Minou, what happened to you?"

"M-my housekeeper found out my identity," he whimpered, not daring to look Ladybug in the eye, especially after he heard her suck her breath in.

"Oh God, this is a—" started Ladybug, but Chat Noir cut her off:

"My father is Papillombre, M'lady." He inhaled the most painful breath of his life. "My housekeeper was Mayura, but now is sick and my f-father had to unify the Miraculouses." His legs failed him and he crashed on the rooftop, unable to withhold his sobs. "She discovered my identity when she was controlling Optigami." He felt Ladybug's arm wrapping around his shoulders and hugged her back, finally letting out all the pain he had been keeping in.

"Oh, Chat Noir, I'm so sorry," she whispered. She moved a hand to his hair and patted it softly, her fingers found the back of his ears and rubbed a soft spot. Chat Noir started purring; Ladybug's lips curled in a smile.

Finally, after a very long time, the boy's sobs stopped shaking his frame and he removed himself from the hug, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Better?" she whispered, the soft smile still curling her lips.

He nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry for breaking down like this."

"I am sorry, Minou. I didn't expect any of what you said." She stroked his cheek gently, as Chat Noir sniffled once more and looked away. "How do we know we can trust her?"

"She's putting everything that she holds dear to her on the line, M'lady. She… she loves him. My father, I mean."

"Right. Because she loves him, we can't trust her. What does she want? Why did she tell you about all this mess? Could it be part of Papillombre's plan?"

He gave her such an intense look that she thanked the stars she had sat on the rooftop to hug him, because her knees felt like jelly. "She could have told him my identity. She's known for a while. She wants to talk to both of us. She said that she was happy to help him until now, but apparently…" He sniffled again. "Father decided that it was a great idea to akumatise me." He looked up at Ladybug's loud gasp. "Yes, she told me that he'd never wanted to hurt me, so he'd never thought of using my emotions to create a new akuma. But recently he had learned some new information and had changed his mind. She was scared of the implications of him akumatising the wielder of the Black Cat, but she couldn't tell him so she decided to reach out."

"Makes sense," Ladybug muttered. "And she's wise for fearing your akumatisation. Does she want to meet us now?"

Chat Noir nodded. "Yes. She's bed-ridden and can barely walk; she asked us to go to her." Ladybug raised an eyebrow, so he continued, "M'lady, the second I tell you my father's name you'll know who I am. The secret is off."

"Yes but… maybe this… housekeeper…" she started.

"Nathalie," Chat Noir declared. "Nathalie Sancœur."

Ladybug's face blanched, as her bluebell's eyes widened in shock. "Wha…? This m-means that your f-father is…"

Chat nodded and gulped dryly before saying it, "Gabriel Agreste." He blushed crimson under her shocked stare. "And I’m… Adrien."

To be continued… day 13

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

Author's Note

Ok, ok, before you attempt murder here, I need to let you know that I will continue this. Tomorrow. And probably the day after too. Happy? When I saw the prompts, well… I just thought that they were marrying REALLY well together. So there you go, sorry for keeping you on tenterhooks.

I hope you like this idea and will leave me a comment. You know that comments are my bread and butter! I love reading your feedback, and this is a VERY different story from other ones I've done, so your input will be even more appreciated.

Until (hopefully) tomorrow, bug out!

#miraculous ladynoir #miraculous love square #miraculous lb #miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #miraculous adrien #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous nathalie #nathalie sancoeur #nathalie loves adrien #like her child #there are lines she's not ready to cross #ladynoirjuly2021 #miraculous fanworks

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