#he was abusive when he held a position of power over people who weren’t able to fight back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

liitlesunshiine · 3 years

Text

Villainous Taste

(Detective reader x Villain Bakugo)

Warnings: NSFW, smut, mentions of death, degradation, manipulation, very bad bad stuff, dubcon, noncon, assault, sub/dom themes, don’t read if sensitive to violent themes

_________________

You sighed in frustration at your desk that was fully covered with a mountain of papers. It’s been over year now since you’ve been assigned to the notorious Bakugo, Katsuki case; and you’ve made little to no progress on catching the pesky fucking villain. You were losing your patience by the day. Especially since it felt like a personal attack on your ego that you still haven’t managed to pin this guy down. The great detective Y/N, Y/LN getting played and taken a fool by the villain himself. It’s not like you’ve made no progress though. There were times, many instances in fact, when you managed to pin the villain down. The constant face to face encounters only ending with the villain toying with you and taunting you. It’s honesty a surprise that you’re still alive considering all the chances he has had to kill you. Condescending dick, you were sure he was getting off by the chase. This all seemed to be a game to him and it infuriated you even more since you were practically entertaining it. He was thriving off the little interactions with the quirkless detective.

The way he would cockily stride his way to you with that big smirk smeared across his face. Eyes devouring your body that left an unsteady chill run down your spine. His presence held such power and intimidation that you couldn’t help but take steps back with every step he took forward. You always felt like a deer in headlights whenever he swaggered towards you. No amount of experience or expertise will ever get you accustomed to his predatory gaze.

“Go figure they’d send a quirkless bitch my way. They must really hate’ya.” He said with a rather amusing look, never breaking his eye contact with you. He grabbed a piece of your hair twisting it softly between his fingers, as if he were inspecting it. You could’ve sworn he was sniffing it too.

Yea, you were quirkless but you managed to hold your own ground. Having to work ten times as hard, having to prove yourself among your peers and having to earn the respect and position you have worked so tirelessly for years. While being quirkless was a hinderance or handicap as some would say, it was a mountain that you decided needed to be climbed. You reached its peak and planted your flag years ago. This title wasn’t given to you mindlessly. You dedicated tears, sweat, and blood to get to where you are now. Gained recognition from higher up heroes themselves and even managed to get assigned to Bakugo’s case; the most wanted and powerful villain in Japan. Now, you weren’t in denial either, you were well aware you stood no chance against the hero toe to toe. Hell, even the top tier heroes themselves barely made it out alive. You were simply here to pinpoint his locations and set up an area for his arrest. What seemed to be a simple task ended up as a wide scale massacre with Bakugo skimping through all the heroes nonchalantly. It was a complete blood bath. All the pro heroes who were posted for defense that day were to be blown up to pieces; the graphic scene till this day haunts you in your sleep. Sleepless nights and paranoia became a norm, with the image of him dripping with blood casually stalking towards you was something that you have not been able to shake out of your head for months now.

He had forced you into an alley that day. You were trying your best to steady your breathing and figure out an attempt to get the fuck out of this predicament. Your eyes skimmed for any opening, avoiding his intense gaze, looking anywhere but his blooded face.

You felt your back hit against the wall. He was now sickly close to you, you placed your head down in shame looking at his shoes rather than his face. Knowing damn well there was no way out of this situation. Beads of sweat ran down your back and colored your forehead. He slammed both his hands against the wall, causing you to jump, your head now trapped in between his forearms. His body hovered over, the smell of blood forcing its way into your nose. The intense body heat radiating off of him, had your head spinning. You felt frozen in place, every worst case scenario rushing through your mind, trying to stay steady while silently sobbing to yourself.

“My eyes are up here slut.” He gripped your chin roughly forcing your eyes to meet his. You took in the rough image of the villain in front of you. You saw the spiky unruly hair sticking out in every direction, some parts drenched in the blood of his victims. His sharp facial features looked even more intimidating under this light, little scars freckled his skin here and there scattered throughout; and his 5 o'clock shadow appearing in patches. It was his eyes that took you by surprise most. None of the pictures posted online, none of the documents you saw ever matched what appeared in front of you. The dark ruby colored eyes stared curiously back at you, analyzing your every move. The stare felt strangely intimate, and it probably would’ve been considering the circumstance. Y/N wasn’t sure if she was really fully conscious of what was happening, but having him so close was making her feel unnerved. Hell, even as a villain there are many people who admire and drool over the criminal. But seeing him this up close drenched in the blood of your peers was when the fear and guilt washed over you and you quickly snapped out of his trance. You were brought back to your senses and reminded of your current predicament. The images of the heroes fighting and dying at the hands of this animal quickly flooded in. Anger now overwhelming your sense. You reminded yourself that you were quirkless, not helpless. And with that thought, you broke your intense gaze away from him, slapping his hand off your chin and quickly spitting in his face. The action caught him rather off guard and you took this delayed response to knee him in the balls and bolt for it “FUCKING BITCH!” He roared.

Ever since then your encounters with Bakugo have been rather odd to say the least. You didn’t really know how else to describe it. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. There were instances where he would get rather “touchy” and others where he would straight up just physically hurt you. It was a wind whirl of emotions and odd behavior whenever you encountered him. You didn’t know what to make of it either. He could’ve killed you months ago and the fact that he hasn’t, has left you feeling uncomfortable and confused. You felt yourself wanting to avoid him now, you haven’t been prioritizing his case anymore and you’ve lost all the spunk and passion you had in the beginning. Continuously failing to catch him and having countless of pro heroes dying at the hands of his explosions was something you no longer had the heart to bare.

Especially now that whenever you found him he’d just toy with you. It was beginning to seem as if he's looking forward to these little encounters, like he’s waiting for you. You began to notice the issue when he was becoming purposefully sloppy in hiding his tracks, it was if he was screaming to be caught. And after working his case for over a year Y/N knew his actions, how careful and precise he could be when he wanted to. A perfectionist in his own right but now, now he was practically waving a flag yelling at you where he is and to come and get him. This was a total 180 from his usual behavior and tactic and with each encounter becoming more unseemly; Y/N thought it was best to take a break from the scandalous villain. You decided on no longer participating on the missions. You couldn’t shake off the eerie feeling of this situation and where you were once so headstrong stepping into the battlefield, your courage and pride was stripped from you. Now the only thing you prioritize was staying the hell away from him. So with whatever information you did find on the villain was quickly handed over to the hero agency without any hesitation.

After a few months of you steering clear from the villain, his crime scenes were becoming more brutal and graphic by the week. His killing sprees drastically increasing and the victims were piling up. Y/N couldn’t help but to let guilt consume her. Thoughts of Bakugo infiltrated Y/N’s mind. From the moment she woke up, to while she’d desperately attempt to sleep. You felt yourself slowly going insane. As if your movements were being watched at all times. Your mental state began taking a toll on you and was affecting your work. You could no longer focus on anything for a span of time without the mere image of a bloodied Bakugo appearing in your head.

His case was one you guiltily found compassion in. One of the top students in UA Academy showing nothing but absolute potential to become a top ranking hero crumbled and fell to villainy after his long time friend Izuku Midoriya, was killed trying to save him. It appeared the guilt ate him up inside and as a result, Bakugo quickly blamed the heroes for being weak and unable and decided on taking matters to his own hands by killing everyone involved that day in Midoriya’s death. This paired on with him living in an abusive household led to what he is now, at least that’s what Y/N assumed. Y/N’s heart felt torn in two feeling somewhat sympathetic towards him due to his rough upbringing and traumatic past but either way it did not excuse the atrocities he was committing now. You felt yourself falling deeper into the rabbit hole because of this man. You finally decided this couldn’t continue on any longer. You requested a transfer, figure you cut your losses with Bakugo’s case and move on with your life.

It had been two weeks since you’ve transferred departments and moved into the inner city of Tokyo. It was new, it was adventurous, and it was a step forward. A perfect way to start fresh and move on. You felt the withdrawals from Bakugo’s case every now and then, mainly the guilt consuming you at night or whenever you saw the news appear on TV with a new crime he had committed. You did your best to avoid those emotions though. He was no longer your problem and you did everything you could anyways. Regardless, your attempts at catching him always resulted with blood on your hands.

It was a particular long day at work. You decided on staying later than usual setting up the finishing touches in your new office. You figured you’d also catch up on some cases to avoid getting swamped on Monday. By the end of it you came to realize it was a quarter past midnight. “Oh shit, I gotta get the hell outta here,’ you mumbled to yourself while you quickly got your personal things and organized the remaining loose ends in the office. You locked up everything and exited out the building, deciding on taking the metro home since you felt exhausted and couldn’t commit to the 2 mile walk.

You weren’t used to the metro being so empty and silent, but it was rather peaceful you thought. While the doors open you took no notice in the looming figure behind you. Exhausted and empty minded you walked in, to the doors behind you closing. You were instantly snapped out of your daze when you got shoved against the pole and a hand quickly covering your mouth to silence your scream.

“I’m real upset quirkless.” You immediately recognized the voice and a chill ran down your spine. You looked up to see the reflection of Bakugo off the window, he was staring at you dead in the eye. His signature scowl heavily evident on his face.

“Are you trying to hide from me? Made me follow your ass all the way to Tokyo now? Come on quirkless, you know I hate being teased.” He positioned himself to have his crotch lined up with your ass. You felt the pressure only getting bigger with each word he spoke. Your heart was racing by this point, you tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp but he only gripped you harder as a result. He pulled your hair forcing you to look at him once again through the reflection.

“What happened slut, got bored of me? Am I not important enough anymore to catch? I’ve killed hundreds of people ya know, why did you stop trying to arrest me? Don’t tell me another villain got your attention. I don’t mind killing off the competition babe.” He gripped your hair even harder to the point where your skull was becoming numb, your cheeks already salted with tears.

“Fucking slut, I should seriously punish you. You’ve been making me work overtime.”

The train did a gradual stop and the doors open once again with two individuals walking in. Y/N felt a bit of hope wash over her until Bakugo moved to sit down on the opposite direction, forcing you on top and both your backs facing the two people who just walked in. Since he was wearing a hoodie no one would be able to recognize him from this angle. Right now the situation looked like two people who are just foundling on the train. You now sat directly on top of the villain’s lap. His hand still covering your mouth harshly. When you felt the bulge in his pants fully erect is when you began to whimper.

“Awe, did my slut miss me? Don’t worry detective, I’ll give you some nice warranted attention.” His free hand began to stroke your exposed thigh. The action immediately had you squish your thighs together and attempt to get away. But he simply responded with gripping you tighter.

“Try anything and I’ll fucking take you right here, right now. I’ll blow up everyone in this fucking train. Try me bitch.”

He placed a testing hand on your thigh and tapped it softly as if waiting for your reaction. You stayed still not daring to move. “Come on baby, open up for your favorite villain.”

You silently nodded your head no, more tears springing out. He gripped your thigh roughly.

“Y/N, I won’t ask again. Fucking open.” The authority and venom that came from that demand left you having goosebumps. The fear reached you and before you knew it, you had your legs opened and spread for him.

"Atta girl.” He hummed satisfied and began stroking your inner thigh. Absolute shame and guilt overtaking your senses, you felt completely out of control and held prisoner. Your mind trying to disassociate itself with the current reality you’re in right now. But only to being brought back with his rough hands violating you and his threatening tone looming over you. “Now, I’m gonna release my hand from your mouth. If you make any fucking noise, I’ll kill everyone in this metro and make you watch while they beg for their lives, m’kay.” You nodded rather quickly, you wouldn’t be dumb enough to even dare to do such a thing. Too many people have already fallen victim to this animal, you refuse to take part in anymore blame for it. You’d figure you just let him use you and quickly get over the situation and forget it ever happen. Maybe you’ll set up an attempt to try and kill him yourself. Either way, the sooner this is over the sooner you get to go home and ball your eyes out and come up with a plan. He hummed again with your response.

“Good girl.” His hand slowly and hesitantly left your mouth and snaked its way to your thighs. He gripped both of them and forced your legs to open wider.

"Really liking the skirt baby. Makes accessing you so much easier.” He chuckled in your ear, mocking you. Ironic considering this is the first time you’ve worn a skirt in over a year. Your fucking luck. This whole thing was just entertainment for him, bastard.

His hands slowly made themselves lower reaching the inner most part of your thighs. He pulled the skirt up, completely showcasing your thong and pantyhose. You practically heard him salivating behind you. You tried to close your legs feeling painfully embarrassed.

“Tsk. What did I say Y/N” he forced your legs apart once again but with more aggression and speed, that lead you to buckle your hips onto him. You instantly became flushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks at the realization of what you just did. You heard him groan.

“Such a fucking tease.” He ripped your pantyhose apart, giving him full entrance to your underwear. The cold air had a cooling sensation on your inner thighs and you felt yourself softy throb. You let out a silent whine and he quickly shoved two of his fingers in your mouth while the other started doing soft circles on your clit.

“Fuck quirkless. You’re so wet, always knew you were a fucking whore for me.”

Even to your surprise you didn’t expect yourself to be this hot and ready for him. You felt completely betrayed by your body but you couldn’t help in relishing in the sensation. It felt so good to finally be touched by someone even if it was someone as vile as him. Is this what it feels like to have the most dangerous man about finger fuck you on the metro train? Maybe you can just pretend you’re getting touched by Jim- the cute and quirky coworker of yours, but with every flick even that was seeming to be difficult already. You were sucking and licking his fingers shamelessly and subconsciously grinding down on his erection. You were definitely disgusted from yourself. But you’d be lying if the thought of fucking this villain hasn’t crossed your mind. Especially with the constant harassment you faced whenever you crossed paths, how he’d violate you but never to this extent. Always leaving you in an array of emotions. Even now you’re having a hard time understanding what exactly is happening.

Your eyes snapped right open when the fingers in your mouth left to slap your pussy. You glared at him with a concerning look. He only smiled in response, the sadistic kind.

“You seemed distracted baby. Got me doing all this work and you’re not even paying attention.”

His wet fingers hooked your underwear and causally pulled them off. You were now completely exposed and the reality of the situation was settling on you. “Bakugo please don’t.”

“After you were sucking and grinding on me? Don’t act so innocent now bitch, you’re fucking soaked. Pussy is practically begging for my cock.”

He slipped one finger inside slowly, as if he was exploring the inside of your pussy. His fingers were thick and scarred due to years of using his quirk. The sensation alone was enough for you to throw your head back on his shoulder, opening your legs wider for him. You couldn’t grasp the reason for your actions. Here you were shamelessly opening yourself up and enjoying the fingers of a villain who has caused so much destruction and brought about so much pain in your life. How is it that you’re enjoying this? You really are a terrible person.

“Fuck baby, this is quite the sight.”

Any attempt in trying to hide what you and Bakugo were doing was completely thrown out the window by the sloppy and lewd noises from the villain fingering you. You began to bite your bottom lip in attempt to hold back the moans trying to escape you when he added a second finger.

“Don’t hold them noises back, let these people know how good you feel from just by my fingers slut.” By this point you couldn’t control the soft noises coming out of you even though you were trying. He was fingering you with such expertise, you were feeling yourself beginning to melt under him. When was the last time someone had touched you liked this? Are you so touch starved that you’re about to cum from out of all people- Bakugou Katisuki? Your mind was spinning.

The train reached its second stop. You tried to close your legs and compose yourself before the doors had open but Bakugo didn’t stop his assault. “Bakug-“

“Keep them open baby. We’ll put on a show for whoever sees. I don’t give a fuck.”

The only two passengers who were on the train walked out rather quickly and with no one else entering, it was just you and this villain inside. You couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or bad but at least the risk of him hurting someone else isn’t looming over your head. Instead of taking this moment to escape you threw your arms up gripping Bakugo by the neck. Might as well and try to get this over with. Sooner this ends, the sooner you get go home and bleach your skin clean and pray for forgiveness to whichever god decides to listen. This action did indeed catch him slightly by surprise but he stopped fingering you momentarily and ripped your shirt off revealing your bra to him. He quickly gripped both of your breasts massaging them in his hand.

“Turn around.” He huskily said into your ear. Already lost in the sensation of how good he was making you feel, you quickly got off him to then get back on straggling him. You were now back on him facing him with your cunt completely exposed, skirt crumbled up to your waist, and your breasts directly in his face. He was smirking down on you. He gripped the center of your bra and activated his quirk leaving the bra in shreds.

“Any idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck this pretty little body of yours?” He gripped your neck, choking you slightly while his mouth made his way to your nipple. “Way too fucking long. Gonna devour your little cunt. Gonna make you pay for all the trouble you’ve been causing me.” His hand left your throat and began squeezing and pinching your nipple. The action causing a moan to rip out of you. “Fucking bitch, you’ve been such a distraction.” You were gripping and pulling his hair now while grinding furiously against his crouch in a desperate attempt to feel some type of friction. “Bakugo-“

“Katsuki,” he corrected, “we’ve been past the formalities for a while now”

You blushed, you rarely call anyone by their first name but Bakugo could be the exception. Besides it’s not like he wasn’t fingering your pussy like a jackhammer on a public train 5 minutes ago, not like you were grinding on him like a desperate dog in heat right now...

“Suki,” you said hoping the cute pet name would be enough to grab his attention, you attempted to sound as desperate and needy as possible, “please make me cum already.” You pleaded while placing your hands on his shoulders. Makeup smudged from the tears and sweat, lipstick smeared on your chin from him covering it, clothes all ruined and your hair a mess, you already looked so fucked out, Bakugo just ate the sight up. He had his hands gripping the side of your hips caressing them. You leaned in wanting a kiss until he quickly gripped your face squeezing your cheeks together preventing it so. “On your knees baby.”

While still squeezing your face you slowly get off his lap on your knees in between his legs.

“Open your mouth and show me your tongue.” He released his tight grip but kept his hand in place, you opened your mouth and slowly stuck out your tongue. He gave a devious smirk, in which you saw something enlighten in his eyes. The bright red color seeming more mahogany now. He leans in lining his mouth above yours and spits on your tongue. He nods his head allowing you to swallow, which you complied easily to. You now waited patiently for his next orders, your full submissive side completely taking over, not like you have much of a choice anyways. Regardless, the desire to please him and the desperation from under is consuming your every thought and sensation.

“Go on slut, suck daddy’s cock.” He leans into the seat with his legs fully spread to you. You slowly unzip his pants with shaking hands allowing his dick to spring free. You nearly drooled at the sight wanting to taste him badly. He was completely erect, a huge vain running down the base of his cock, the tip already covered in precum looking swollen and red. You lean in his dick using your hands to pump him, you slowly bought the tip towards your mouth giving it small kitten like licks. As you began sucking the villain in front of you, he lets out small grunts and groans throughout. He eventually pulls your hair and shoves his dick entirely in your mouth forcing itself to hit the back of your throat. 10 seconds pass by and he hasn’t removed his hand, 11, 12… your eyes begin watering and you’re desperately attempting to get fresh air. You begin pulling away only for Katsuki to laugh and hold you down tighter. “Aha’ha choking on my dick detective? Such a cock hungry whore… this outa teach you a lesson, maybe I’ll get some hand cuffs late-later on and treat you like you really deserve, yea-yeah. That sounds soo good.”

While Bakugo goes back and forth with himself, you begin getting red faced and losing consciousness he pulls your hair up forcing you off and you while you take this opportunity to weed in gaps of air desperately and choking, he quickly shoves himself back inside your mouth. This time he moved your head in up/down motions, you attempted your best to slurp and suck with minimal oxygen entering your system, but it was proven to be very difficult, luckily enough you notice the villain becoming slower and sloppier with his movements. You brought yourself to deep throat his cock once more until the warm liquid has finally entered your mouth. The taste sour and sticky inside, this is what sin must taste like you thought.

As on cue, the metro did a halt and you instantly recognized the location. You gave a side eye to the villain next to you who also knew this was the stop to your neighborhood. He self confidently got up and immediately zipped his pants. He took off the hoodie he wore only leaving the black tank top underneath and shoved it over your head. The hoodie was long enough to cover your whole body and you were thankful since your current garments were in shreds across the floor. It also smelled strangely sweet, odd, like burnt caramel? Maybe the lack of oxygen is making you slightly delusional? You assumed, well hoped- this is where you would go separate ways with the villain. Have this memory go to the grave with you and forget it ever happened. But to your lovely surprise he picks you up bridal style and carries you out the metro. You looked at him questioningly, the feeling of dread looming over and suddenly becoming overwhelming just waiting for his response. He simply smirked.

“You’re clocking in overtime tonight detective.”

#mha smut #bakugou x reader smut #yandere katsuki #bakugo x reader smut #bnha imagines #mha bakugou #pro hero bakugou #villain bakugou #dark theme #bakugou katsuki #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #alpha katsuki #mha fanfiction

777 notes · View notes

nobodyfamousposts · 3 years

Text

Chloe’s Lament Part 3

She didn’t know how long she spent ruminating. What drew her out of those thoughts was the sudden shouting from behind her and the exclamation of Bustier ordering Ivan to go to the Principal’s.

…wait…

Yes! Yes, this was it! This was the start of Stoneheart, the first akuma!

This was the start of the previous Ladybug’s debut!

And it would be the beginning of her own!

Chloe was almost squirming in her seat as Ivan was ordered to go to the Principal’s office. She watched eagerly as he stormed out of the room.

Soon, she reminded herself.

Soon…

So caught up in her own plans and imagining all the things she would do with the Miraculous, she didn’t even notice when class was over until everyone was leaving.

That’s right! She had to go, too! Her Miraculous awaited!

Sure, she didn’t know where it would be, but it was supposed to show up when Stoneheart appeared, right?

All the more reason to head out now to start looking!

Or she would if it weren’t for Bustier calling her before she could get out the door.

“Chloe. Do you have a minute?”

No, she didn’t! She had a Miraculous to receive and a city to adore her!

But at Bustier’s expectant look, she turned back with a sigh and walked up to her teacher’s desk. This was just a minor and temporary obstacle. Surely her Miraculous would wait! It wasn’t like there was anyone else fit for the hero role.

Her thoughts shifted to Marinette briefly before she waved them off. Certainly not!

“Did you need something?” She asked. As much of a rush as she was to get her Miraculous, Bustier was her favorite teacher and had always been on her side. The least she could do was allow her a bit of her time.

“I wanted to check in with you before school, but it seemed you had gotten here before I did.” Bustier smiled but her expression seemed tense. “I heard there had been an argument before class started?” She asked gently.

Perfect! Just the opening she needed.

Chloe fixed a hurt expression. “It was awful! Marinette was dictating the roles for the work study and she was going to make Adrien work in the kitchen!”

There! Let’s see how that wannabe responds when the school calls her out on this!

Bustier listened to her cries and nodded in sympathy, so Chloe was sure she had this set.

“What did Adrien say?”

…except for that.

“Pardon?”

“Did Adrien say he didn’t want to work the kitchen?” Bustier asked curiously.

Did he?

“Marinette didn’t give him a chance!” She argued, though truthfully she didn’t remember how he responded at the time. She had just been focusing on calling out Marinette and getting back at her for everything.

“Did you ask Adrien what he wanted?” Bustier asked.

A long pause followed.

The teacher looked at Chloe almost pityingly.

What? What was that look for?!

“I already knew!” Chloe defended. Because she did! Of course she did! She didn’t have to ask! He was her best friend! Of course she knew him better than anyone! So of course she knew what he wanted! “I was just looking out for him!”

It was just to help him! It wasn’t about herself! Wasn’t that good? Didn’t that make her the good guy here? Where was the outrage at Marinette?

“Were you looking out for him or against Marinette?”

Silence.

Bustier sighed.

“Chloe, I know it’s difficult coming back after what happened. And I know you want your feelings to be justified.”

Because they were. Chloe’s feelings were justified, but no one could possibly understand why. She was the only one who knew about the previous reality.

“—don’t know what you were doing in her locker, though I’m sure you had a reason, you know that wasn’t the right way to go about it—”

How could she even begin to explain what had happened? Of everything she had suffered while Marinette had gotten to play the hero and deny her what was rightfully hers?

“—though I’m sure it was an accident, but the things you said before and afterwards gave everyone the wrong idea—”

No. There was no point trying to explain. Even Bustier wouldn’t get it. Especially not at a time before magic was shown to be real.

“—really tried to argue on your behalf, but you were caught on camera—”

Though it seems like she at least is still on Chloe’s side. Plus there was that time she believed Marinette cheated on the test and did whatever, so clearly her trust in the girl wasn’t that great.

“—have already talked to Marinette about it and she’s willing to try to forgive—”

Plus Bustier was a bleeding heart. She never punished her for anything. Even looking the other way with some of Chloe’s plans. Getting bi-colored hair out of the way so she could be in the class photo next to her Adrikens. Her methods to win the Class Rep position. She never even made her do anything as the Rep. Surely that meant she was on her side, right?

“—but her parents are still very upset. It took a lot of effort to get them to agree to—”

Whatever this ‘probation’ was, it wasn’t like she’d be held to it.

“—advocated to keep you in my class along with her to prove you can do it. I have faith in you—”

Chloe nodded, not really listening, her mind busy formulating new plans.

It didn’t matter that Chloe was starting at a slight disadvantage. She could work around this.

“—so I hope you can understand—”

It meant that she just had to keep under the radar as Chloe.

And complete her revenge through the mask of Ladybug.

All the better.

After all, what better irony would it be than to ruin Marinette by using her own former hero persona against her?

“—what your counselor has been telling you—”

Chloe shook her head, realizing she had missed out on what Bustier was saying. And one word in particular stuck out to her.

“Counselor?”

Bustier looked surprised at Chloe’s own surprise, then worried. “Please tell me you haven’t been skipping your sessions, Chloe. Those are part of the requirements per the agreement for you to continue coming to school here.”

Chloe blinked in shock.

“What?!”

“I was able to argue for you to stay in my classes, and the administration agreed to keep you on a probationary period, but these are part of the conditions, Chloe.” Bustier explained. She sounded particularly anxious about it, causing it to really hit Chloe just how serious this was. “You need to see your counselor weekly and you need to not antagonize any of the other students, especially Marinette. Her parents were willing to accept the arrangement and not demand a hearing with the school board to have you expelled, but there is only so much the school can accommodate.”

No…no way…

How could she start off with things this bad for her already?

Wait…was this Marinette’s fault, too? Had she framed Chloe somehow?

Bustier rested a hand on Chloe’s shoulder in some attempt at reassurance.

“I want to continue to work with you, Chloe. But please…you need to at least try.” She said more than asked, but was still pleading. “Marinette has been willing to forgive, but if her parents hear anything more about you antagonizing her, this will be your last strike and they may very well demand your expulsion. Maybe even press charges.”

“Press charges?!”

But no one had ever pressed charges against her! She had never even had a detention before! And now she was facing this immediately?

“They aren’t going to!” Bustier assured her. “Believe me, no one wants that!”

Clearly Marinette did, the evil bit—

Bustier crouched, just enough to be eye level with her.

“Chloe, things aren’t over yet. We want you to have the best chance for your future. That’s why I’m working with you this year and why you have a counselor to help you with all these feelings you’re having a hard time with. And that’s why you need to take this as a new chance and do your best with it.”

Bustier looked at her hopefully.

“Do you understand?”

Yes, she understood clearly.

She understood that this world was ridiculous, UTTERLY RIDICULOUS!

This was not at all what she had wished for and she would be having words with that little kwami as soon as she got the Miraculous!

But as she couldn’t exactly explain any of that to Bustier, she simply nodded numbly and returned to her seat. There, she looked over her notebooks. And when Bustier wasn’t focusing on her, she glanced over her phone. Really, she should have done that first thing as soon as she woke up, and she regretted not doing so sooner.

What she found was…illuminating…

Chloe had gotten it completely wrong.

It wasn’t that Marinette was a threat. Or that she was abusing her power to bully Chloe. Or just doing any of the things that Chloe had assumed she would.

It was that Chloe herself was on thin ice for a history of bullying and harassment. And this time around, as a normal girl without her former clout, people were not as inclined to overlook her behavior. Especially when the girl in question being targeted was the daughter of the Mayor and also unexpectedly well regarded (not loved, because surely it had to be the position that made people hate Chloe originally, right?)

Marinette may not have been willing to demand punishment for whatever reason--probably to look good to the peons, but the school administration, being the cronies that they were, would hardly risk the liability of something happening to the child of an official under their care.

She left the class but honestly didn’t know where she was going. She was running on autopilot at this point as everything finally started to sink in about the new reality she was in. Nothing was as she expected. If anything, it was worse!

She just needed her Miraculous! Everything would be fine when—

“Chloe?”

Speak of the devil…

She had nearly bumped into the very girl her thoughts were raging against.

“Chloe?” Marinette asked. “Are you okay?”

No! No, she wasn’t! Everything was wrong and nothing was how it was supposed to be and it was all her fault!

“What do you want?” Chloe demanded sourly.

Marinette held out a hand but hesitated. She drew back but instead pressed on verbally. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed confused earlier, and—

Yeah, cutting that nonsense off right now! If she thought pretending to care would spare her once Chloe became the Ladybug hero, she had another thing coming! And there was no way she was going to let the traitor use her to try and make herself look better by acting nice.

Chloe sharply cut her off. If Marinette hadn’t pulled her own hand back, it would have been slapped away with Chloe’s motion.

“Stop faking! There’s no way a spoiled brat who is given everything by her parents would help others! You’re just as crooked as they are!” She shouted.

Because that’s what Marinette had to be! What she always must have been! Why else would she hoard all the Miraculous to herself and not give Chloe what was hers?!

Marinette looked at Chloe almost…pityingly.

That witch was looking down on her!

“I don’t know what is upsetting you, Chloe. But I’m not responsible for your problems. You can lash out for as little as it actually makes you feel better, but I don’t have to take it.”

Don’t have to—DON’T HAVE TO—!!!

Chloe pointed at her angrily. “It’s because of you that I’m having to see a counselor!”

And Marinette sighed! Sighed! Like she was the one being put upon here! Bad enough she stole Chloe’s life, but now she was trying to act like she was the wronged party, here!

“Chloe, the alternative was a restraining order and another fine. And I’m pretty sure your dad can’t keep paying them. All things considered, I think you got off lucky.”

Chloe broke off sputtering, wanting nothing more than to put the other girl in her place but having no way to do so without revealing anything.

Marinette stared her straight on, unperturbed.

“Whatever you’re facing now is a result of your own actions.”

How dare she?! Like she knows anything!

Who was she to talk?!

“Oooh!” Chloe stomped her foot before storming off.

She’d show her!

Just wait! Once she got her Miraculous, she would tear her down in every way possible and she would enjoy it! And THEN Ladybug would be sorry! She would regret ever denying Chloe!

She just needed—

From a distance, she could hear crashing and the sound of screams echoing through the school. Many people ran past her in terror. And peeking out, she caught sight of what could only be Stoneheart rampaging through the school.

“No doubt looking for what’s-his-name.” She muttered. She hadn’t really cared to know the details of that first akuma attack aside from her involvement in it.

But still, there was an akuma, just as expected! Which signaled the first appearance of the heroes!

She smirked.

This was it! That meant she should be getting her Miraculous at any time now! She just had to wait for whoever to deliver it to her!

So she waited in place, grinning with excitement the entire time.

And waited.

And…waited.

Waiting…

…

…but nobody came.

“WHAT GIVES?!”

How was she supposed to become a hero if her power-granting jewelry didn’t show up? How did Marinette get it originally anyway? She seemed close to that old guy…wasn’t he supposed to show up by now? She hasn’t seen any old guy!

“Where is it already?!”

Well, someone had to deliver it, right? Maybe they just didn’t know where she was and left it somewhere she could find…which meant she had to be the one to search.

“I can’t believe this!”

Nothing in her locker.

“What kind of service is this anyway?”

Her desk was empty.

“Is this how you treat your hero?”

With little other options, she stormed home in a huff—not like classes would happen anyway with a giant stone monster running around. She didn’t even need to bother checking, as it was what happened last time. And if the way everyone was running around was any indication, it would no doubt be the same now.

She couldn’t afford to waste anymore time. Her moment had come! And that meant her Miraculous was here!

She flung open the door to her room.

…somewhere.

“Where is it?”

Not on her desk.

“Where is it?!”

Not on or under her bed.

“Why would they make it so hard to find?!”

Really, she should be handed it on a golden platter as everyone begs her to save them! It shouldn’t be this difficult! And she shouldn’t be having to actually have to search herself!

That’s what the servants were for! Or Sabrina.

She was determined, however! Nothing would stop her, even a messy room! So she continued her search, throwing this or that aside—they weren’t a Miraculous, they didn’t matter.

She didn’t even notice that one of the items she tossed was a remove, which landed in such a way that it turned on the nearby TV.

“Maybe it’s in my closet?” She wondered.

That made sense. After all, once she got all the Miraculous, she’d be able to switch them out as easily as a pair of shoes. She would probably need to leave them in the closet when she’s not using them.

She opened the closet doors, giving a grimace at the small space and her much more limited wardrobe. It was so much smaller than her old one!

She briefly mourned the loss of the space and all of her top-brand designers as she forced herself to dig through the various clothes and accessories.

Not this.

Not that.

Ew! She wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that!

“—stone monster has been defeated!”

Chloe froze.

What?!

But she hadn’t even made her appearance yet!

Chloe spun around, nearly tripping over some shoes in her escape from the closet. All to get a closer look at the screen because clearly it was some cartoon or show or something. It was a mistake! It had to be a mistake!

But no, there was that news anchor—whatever-her-name-was. And behind her was a video of her classmate—Jim? Ryan? Whatever the rock monster had been, now back to normal—or as normal as anyone could be in THAT tacky shirt and getup!

And next to him…

A boy in black—blond but in a distinctly different getup from her Adrikens.

And a girl.

In red.

Red and black.

Ladybug!

It wasn’t the Ladybug she knew. It couldn’t be. She had just seen the now Ex-Ladybug in the halls!

The new hero’s hair was as red as her suit with a black headband—almost like a tiara. Her mask was a mix of red and black. Her suit was a black bodysuit with red accents—with her hands covered in gloves that seemed to be red and red boots that reached just above her shin. And the collar of the suit seemed to expand into a sort of dress that lengthened in the back, which when she turned appeared more like a cape that was red in color. Like a Ladybug’s shell.

And of course, the outfit was sparse with spots of differing colors, with multiple black spots on her red cape and single red dots center on her gloves and the peaks of her boots.

And looking closely—to the point she was literally pressed up against the screen, she could swear that the spots were all…in the shape of hearts, of all things? How juvenile!

But there was no mistaking it!

That was Ladybug. Maybe not the same Ladybug as before, but still the Ladybug Miraculous! It hadn’t been waiting for her like it was supposed to. It had gone to—been stolen by someone else!

They had made her tear up her room for nothing!

“—day has been saved thanks to the combined efforts of Red Queen and Cheshire! Paris’s new heroes!”

Chloe felt something crack. It may have been her TV.

Not only did this upstart steal her place as the city’s hero. And her rightful victory over the Ex-Ladybug by taking her place…

She took her title as Queen!

“How dare she?!”

Bad enough to injure her this way, but to insult her, too?!

At this point, she didn’t even know whether she was more angry with this faker or with Marinette!

She froze at that as the realization hit her…

Chloe didn’t have the Ladybug.

She wouldn’t be able to fix anything.

Her Wish had switched her with Marinette so she could make the other girl experience the burdens of her life while she could become the hero and make her suffer for her past life’s crimes.

But rather than hated, Marinette was actually well liked by their classmates and just in general. A few internet searches had pulled up Marinette using her power over others much as Chloe had in the past, so it wasn’t like they were any different! But apparently cancelling talks to make a new building for a corporate gym chain in order to keep a lame old skating rink open was good somehow! And forcing people to do backbreaking labor to plant trees on a Saturday! And that work study program at her Dad’s hotel! That was just free child labor!

The fact that Chloe had done the same thing in the previous timeline only with putting people in the suckier jobs had no bearing on this!

Chloe growled, clenching her fists and shaking at the injustice of it all.

And while Marinette was getting to live it up, meanwhile, poor Chloe herself was despised and about two steps away from a criminal record for things that weren’t even her fault! She couldn’t even enjoy the one nice thing about Marinette’s original position of becoming a hero and being popular! And any attempts to call out Marinette for her evils only made HER look like the bad guy!

Becoming Ladybug had been her only chance to fix this. She could have used it to promote herself. To tear down Marinette. Even to go back to the previous reality where she could still be Miracle Queen if nothing else! But now she didn’t even have that! Whatever stupid power in charge of this must be broken somehow!

This meant…

Marinette had won before Chloe even had a chance to do anything.

And now there was nothing Chloe could do about it.

She didn’t have the Ladybug. She was going to need a new TV. She didn’t have any of her previous life’s accommodations or riches to replace them. Nobody liked her. Her Daddykins had no influence to help her. Her Mother was still in New York.

There was only one thing she could count on, she realized as she picked up a picture frame.

“At least I always have you.”

The picture of Adrien stared back at her, flat and unblinking.

________________

Once upon a timeline, son of a fashion mogul, Adrien Agreste, was a popular model who was sad and cut off from the world, being isolated except for his only friend: daughter of the Mayor and the Style Queen, Chloe Bourgeois.

But someone didn’t like that story, so they changed it.

So once upon a timeline, son of a fashion mogul, Adrien Agreste, who only sometimes took part in his fathers business had two friends: daughter of the Mayor, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and daughter of the Style Queen, Chloe Bourgeois.

He was sad and cut off from the world for a time, true. But the current Mayor was a big believer of children having normal healthy childhoods and was not as inclined to ignore child labor laws. And her daughter, while happy to be his friend, was similarly a big believer of healthy childhoods and not as inclined to be Adrien’s only friend.

Being on good terms with the family, Sabine and Tom convinced Gabriel and Emilie to cut down on the modeling and activities for their son to let him go to school and spend time around kids his age. And being on good terms with Adrien himself, Marinette convinced him to interact with his various classmates and introduced him to a number of peers.

What followed was the beginning of beautiful—if not headache-inducing friendships.

A couple of years made all the difference. So much so that by the time that particularly Miraculous school year started, Adrien had already been going to school for a good couple of years. Long enough to become settled, join clubs, and make his own friends. Ones outside of Marinette and Chloe and their social circles.

Adrien Agreste was popular. Not the kind of popularity that comes with hundreds of fans chasing him down the street, thankfully, which he would certainly appreciate if he knew about. But rather, his popularity was the general school variety that came with a guy who was good looking and kind to everyone.

Adrien was, to put it simply, quite happy. And not at all alone.

He would play sports with Kim and Alix. Study with Max and Sabrina. Geek out over books and anime with Marc and Jean. Play games with Max and Nino. Blabber on about heroes and comics with Nathaniel and Mirelle.

And of course, there was Marinette.

Adrien would be lying if he said he never had…some feelings for Marinette.

She was the one who had helped to convince his father to let him join public school three years ago. While it may have been possible for the man to argue with an hour long presentation complete with a fifty slide PowerPoint explaining why public school was beneficial for children including statistics and psychological studies, it was substantially more difficult for him to argue with the girl’s mother when she was both the Mayor and a close enough family friend. It couldn’t be sure which of the two had been the final push that had convinced Emilie, but once she was on board, Gabriel couldn’t help but cave soon after.

Either way, Adrien was grateful to his friend.

…and a bit smitten. Not that he could tell her that. Especially the way she would stick her tongue out when she was so focused on a drawing. Or how beautiful she looked when she took charge of a project. Or how cute she was the way she would get annoyed when she’d catch him wearing the worst possible combination from his closet, which was made all the better partly because it made his Father look ready to have a coronary as well. Plus it helped that she’d drag him to her house at the first opportunity to salvage his outfit into something bearable. He didn’t have to, but he let her every time.

She was adorable like that. And at least he wasn’t alone since it seemed many of his other friends had admitted a crush on her at some point that never went anywhere. He doubted he’d be different.

After all, he was admittedly a sucker for the childhood friend to lovers trope in anime—which made him all the more bummed that they hardly ever worked out.

And since he was apparently the equivalent of an anime protagonist now if his new little companion was any indication…

He looked down at his bag, where his new little friend smirked up at him.

…yeah, he didn’t want to risk it.

Especially given some of the things the little cat-god had told him.

“What do you mean we’ve done this before?” Adrien asked, rather confused to say the least.

“Yeah, it didn’t work out last time.” The creature—Plagg, replied. Though not actually answering his question in any way.

He looked up at Adrien with a smirk.

“But things will be different this go around. We’ve made sure of it.” He then turned away, muttering darkly something Adrien couldn’t hear about some “brat” and a “surprise”.

“O…kay?” He didn’t get it, but okay?

Plagg shook his head before turning back and floating up to eye level with him. “Just change up your suit, ditch the bell, and don’t call yourself Chat Noir and things will be fine.” It told him.

“But why?” Admittedly, his first thought had been “Wild Pussycat” due to his current favorite fandom, but Chat Noir actually sounded really cool.

“Trust me, kid. It’ll help.”

And apparently it had, since he’d met his partner and they’d defeated that monster easily enough.

Plus Adrien did rather like the Wonderland theme they agreed on.

He had been excited about the adventure—what teenage boy wouldn’t be? Still, it was a relief to return to the school the next day and find everyone safe and sound.

Mostly.

Ivan admittedly wasn’t having the best time, unfortunately. He was being crowded by everyone and questioned about the incident by the time Adrien had arrived. Everyone was clearly worried and no one knew for sure what had happened. Marinette in particular was being supportive.

Chloe was…not.

“—monster!”

“He’s not a monster!” Marinette countered defensively. “He doesn’t even remember what happened!”

“He could just be saying that!” Chloe yelled, pointing at Ivan. “Once a monster, always a monster!”

“Hey, back off, Chloe.” Alya said, stepping in front of her. “It’d not like Ivan asked to become a stone golem, and besides, any damage was erased and he’s back to normal.”

Adrien sighed. He was going to have to play mediator again, wasn’t he?

“Hey, Chloe?” He asked benignly, stepping up to her. “If you’re worried he’ll transform again, maybe upsetting him isn’t a good idea? We don’t know what caused it or if it was a one time thing.”

Actually, he did know. But given what Plagg had told him about how the akumas worked, he didn’t want to risk Ivan getting reakumatized. And he couldn’t very well come out and say any of that until this Hawk Moth guy revealed himself and the city as a whole had a better idea how his powers worked.

“Of course, it—” She suddenly cut off, as if realizing something. “Whatever!”

With that, she turned and stomped off.

What was her deal?

Still, everyone else was uncertain of what else to do and with class about to start, several other classmates chose to leave as well. Soon, the previously larger crowd had only a couple people left. Adrien, for his part, figured he should step back and give Ivan some space.

Marinette took advantage of the opportunity the lack of crowd gave to push Kim forward. The taller boy began nervously apologizing while Marinette sat by Ivan as support.

Adrien sighed in relief as he walked away.

Marinette was a wonderful friend.

Chloe, on the other hand…

___________________

Speaking of Chloe, the girl in question had realized a few minutes after she had stormed off that in her anger, she hadn’t kept track of where she was going and had apparently gone the complete opposite direction of her next class.

Seriously! She knew more than anyone! They should be flocking to her for answers and instead, everyone was focusing on Kim! Or what’s his-name! Rocker boy! Sure, he was only going to be the first of many akumas, but nobody else knew that! She thought she could use that to boost her status by confronting the “threat”!

Last time, she had led the crowd by calling him out for what he had done. Yet much like many things, that had gone wrong this time as well! Instead of rallying behind her against the clear threat only she knew about, most of the people were giving her the side-eye. And of course Marinette freaking Chang had to be the one to act against her!

Really! She was the victim here and nobody even knew it! Thanks to that new Red Queen stealing her rightful place, Chloe had lost everything! And she couldn’t even TELL anyone! Now what was she supposed to do?

She growled, smacking a wall with her fist.

And now she would have to walk all the way back! And she couldn’t just skip classes for the day to make them suffer without her presence for siding against her; the school wouldn’t allow it. Which meant she would have to face everyone again. And walk in these old shoes that were murder on her poor feet!

Oh, the life of suffering she lived!

She trudged back through the hallway the way she came, taking a slightly different route—just in case the others were still where she left them. She didn’t want it to seem like she was intentionally coming back or anything. That would just be letting them think they were right.

“That was something earlier, huh?”

“Yeah. Poor Ivan.”

She paused. Up ahead was a connecting hallway that led to another path to her classroom. And she could hear voices from around the corner.

One of them was Adrikens!

She almost felt herself floating forward, her feet no longer in pain and her shoes no longer a trouble to her. Adrikens always made things better! And surely he of all people would understand her misery!

She peaked. Sure enough, there he was. Her precious friend! The only one she could count on!

But she didn’t recognize the other boy with him. It wasn’t Nino. She couldn’t not know if it was him due to how his name was engraved upon her psyche with how much Adrikens would talk about him.

The other boy grumbled, though Chloe barely took notice of what he had to say. Not until he started talking about her.

“I can’t believe Chloe. Well, I can, because that’s nothing new for her. What a…”

Gasp! How rude! Who did he think he was? He was luck he cut off or she would have had his parents’ jobs!

She winced, remembering that she couldn’t do that anymore.

…well, she’d cause him some repercussions, anyway.

But unaware of her, he kept going, turning to Adrien.

“Dude, why do you even put up with her?” The loser asked.

How rude! She wasn’t someone he had to ‘put up with’, she was a joy to be around! Of course her Adrikens adored her! And he would no doubt admonish that low class nobody for talking about her in such a way!

‘Because I’m his best friend,’ Chloe thought smugly.

Of course Adrien would be on her side.

Because she was his best friend.

Because they were each other’s only friends for years.

Because they’re the only ones who understand each other.

Because even if everything else changed, that was one thing that would remain true.

He would never abandon her.

Chloe Bourgeois and Adrien Agreste—them against the world!

“Honestly, I don’t even know anymore.”

She froze.

"I mean, we used to be friends, but that was more because her parents were friends with mine. Right now her Mom is my Dad's business associate and I kind of have to be nice to her or she could complain or something."

"Oh yeah. She did threaten to run to 'Daddy' earlier. Stands to reason she'd use 'Mommy' the same. But do you really think her Mom would care that much?"

"I don't want to risk it. Being in school the past three years has been like a dream. The last thing I want is to lose it all because Chloe threw a tantrum."

He sighed.

“Besides, I do feel bad for her. I mean…she’s alienated pretty much everyone she’s ever been in a class with and I’m the only one who will even talk to her.”

“The only one who can, you mean.” The other said snarkily. “She insults anyone else who even looks at her.”

He shook his head. “She doesn’t have any friends. And it’s just…sad.”

“Dude, that’s not your fault.”

“I know that now. She was always a...” He hesitated for a moment before spitting it out, “well...a brat. I’m honestly not sure I ever liked her. I just hung out with her at the time because she was the first kid my age to interact with and I was told to. Back then, I thought that was enough to make us friends. That that was what friendship was supposed to be.”

“Thank God for Mari and her mom.”

“Tell me about it!”

His words were like a blade piercing her heart from behind.

One after another, they stabbed her.

And he—her only friend, completely unaware, he just kept going.

“When we were kids, neither of us knew better. But while I grew up, she…didn’t.”

That…that wasn’t right!

None of that was right!

Adrien sighed. “And I really wish she would.”

Chloe didn’t even realize she had lost all feeling in her legs until she had slumped to the ground.

He…

He really thought that?

About her?

“I try to step in and help her when I can. Partly because I feel obligated to since we were close once, but mostly because I know she would just make things worse if I didn’t. I mean, you know what she did with Mari when she got mad. But honestly…I’m really tired of it. Of having to pacify her, the way she grabs me, her stupid ‘Adrikens’ nickname, and just…dealing with her. All of it.”

He sighed again.

“But who knows how much worse she’d be otherwise?”

“Dude, you’re not some sacrificial lamb here.” The other boy assured him. “And besides, you heard, didn’t you? Chloe’s been reprimanded and she’s only still in school on a trial period. If she does anything and people complain, she’ll be out of here and you won’t have to deal with her anymore.”

A weak chuckle. Her Adrikens—Adrien actually laughed at that.

“I’d feel bad if I said I was looking forward to it.”

The other boy laughed at that. “Y’know, I had a dream last night where she announced she was leaving Paris.”

“Sounds like a good dream.” Adrien replied, not even missing a beat.

“I know! I almost didn’t want to wake up!”

The two left, with Adrien just…continuing to chat and laugh and joke like they were best friends and like they weren’t making fun of Chloe who was supposed to be his best friend whose side he was supposed to be on no matter what…

But…

Where was he just then? Where was his defense of her? Where was his declaration that he was still her friend no matter what? Where was his insistence that she wasn’t as bad as people think? Where was his lecture of that boy for speaking ill of her? Where was his disappointment of the others for being mean and wanting her gone? Where was his promise?

...Where was her Adrien?

That was what finally broke through.

Chloe sobbed.

It wasn’t just Adrien. That was simply the last straw.

Marinette had Chloe’s life and was apparently happier than she ever was in the previous life—happier than Chloe had been even! Someone else was the Ladybug hero and had taken her title as ‘Queen’. She didn’t have a Miraculous. She didn’t have Pollen. Her Father wasn’t the Mayor. Her Mother was still in New York. And everything was…

Everything that had made Chloe Bourgeois who she was was gone.

What was she, after all?

Chloe Bourgeois was rich.

She was the Daughter of the Mayor.

She was the Princess of Paris.

Without that…who was she?

Who was this new Chloe Bourgeois she had become?

She wasn’t feared. She wasn’t respected. She wasn't in any way liked. She was an annoyance at best. An irritant. A bug to them. Someone to be avoided.

And in Adrien’s case…pitied.

That, more than anything, was what hurt the most.

Adrien didn’t love her. He didn’t even like her.

And maybe…

“…I hate you, Chloe.”

…he never had.

…

“You’re the sort of person who is never satisfied with anything.”

…did he ever care about her at all?

“Whatever you do. Whatever world you create. My feelings won’t change.”

Had he…been trying to warn her?

“It won’t be real, Chloe. Whatever we had…whatever you would call it is already gone.”

She slowly pulled herself up. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going at this point, but she didn’t want to be there anymore. She was deaf to everything but the pounding of her own heart and the memory of Adrien’s words.

“Chloe, you don’t know what friends are!”

…

“And I didn’t know better before because I only ever had you. But since I’ve started school, I’ve learned what friendship is!”

…

“I wish I had learned it sooner.”

Well…it looked like he had gotten his wish. Seeing him now, surrounded by people in a way he had never been before. Not even just Nino this time, but others from other classes.

He looked happy.

…had he ever looked that happy when he was with her?

She bit her lip.

That liar.

He…he was a traitor!

Just like Ladybug!

Just like all of them!

She looked up to the sound of cheers.

From the angle she was at, she could see her classmates gathered close to the doorway of the classroom. Apparently rocker boy and rainbow-haired girl were together now? Oh yeah, that had happened around this time like time, hadn’t it? Wasn’t he supposed to have been akumatized a second time first, though?

It didn’t seem to matter. They were holding hands. And the others were going on about how great it was. And Adrien was congratulating them just as much as everyone else. And they were all just so damn happy.

And there was Marinette, in the middle of it all. Smiling.

And not once did she even look at her.

Chloe could only watch on as they ignored her. As Marinette brushed her off like it didn’t matter while she got to carry on with what had been Chloe’s life. Still kind. Still friendly. Still popular. And somehow even more despicably perfect than before now that she had taken Chloe’s place.

All that…having everything that made Chloe who she was, and somehow, she was still so…disgustingly happy.

Not despised. Not unloved. Not a hateful, selfish person. Not…anything like Chloe.

“Marinette is a better Ladybug—a better person than you ever will be. And that’s because she chooses to be kind! Regardless of the circumstances!”

…

“Even if your positions were switched, that wouldn’t change.”

It…

It wasn’t fair.

IT WASN’T FAIR!

_________________________

The Universe is a director. It doesn’t alter the script, merely the parts. When someone demands a different role, the most it will do is swap people around to put them in places that best fulfill the demand. And if the ones who saw fit to make demands didn’t like their new roles...well...

The Universe didn’t particularly like critics.

So the critic wanted the baker girl’s life? That was fine.

After all, the critic’s father had two roles.

One for two. Two in one.

Why not split the difference and see what comes of it?

At least, that was what it figured. And it turned out pretty well in its not so humble opinion.

The city had a steadfast leader. The hotel had a caring manager. The bakery had a decent owner. The heroes were both the same and different. The sad male lead would get to display greater range. The former hero got to take a break after carrying the entire production previously. And the invisible actor would get a chance to step out of a shadow and finally shine.

And if the little critic didn’t like it, maybe she shouldn’t have complained?

Some people just didn’t appreciate what they were given.

The Universe nodded to itself and turned its attention to the new heroic duo, curious as to what would come of this new dynamic.

It was getting bored of the old love square anyway...

#chloe's lament #chloe salt #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #plagg #kwami swap #sabrina raincomprix #sabrina deserves better #marinette gets a break #chloe has a hard time #Be Careful What You Wish For #chloe is not careful #chloe is a horrible person #miracle queen

1K notes · View notes

h34rtizuku · 3 years

Text

𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔶

i hate angst without happy endings, but i’m also self-destructive. therapy is expensive, but ripping your own heart out and bearing your insecurities into a full-fledged story for you and others to read? free.

warnings : angst without a happy ending, insecurities, jealousy, mayhaps toxic behavior?? idk if ur looking for a good time, this isn’t for you bestie <3 also i might misspell uraraka’s name wrong a few times, i’ll fix them later :*

being quirkless had its advantages. with such a small number of us being born without powers, it left a lot of the mundane jobs open.

which is why, as soon as pro-hero deku opened his agency, i came to him with the request to be his assistant.

on the daily, he had people coming up to him asking for internships or to be his sidekick. but he never had anyone ask to be his assistant.

being the number one hero often meant that every day things, things one may take for granted or deem insignificant became just another list of things on the busy man’s to-do list.

therefore the appeal of having someone file his paper work and run to get him coffee in the morning was great enough to hire me.

and i was glad he did.

this is what i have been working for since i was a first year in high school. after watching the freckled boy break limb after limb to defeat his opponent.

yeah, i saw it as irresponsible and stupid that he had to break his own body to save others. but i was willing to overlook it.

my one goal during my remaining years of high school and up to college was that wherever that little green haired boy went, i would follow.

and that reigned true as his assistant. i would shuffle after him like a duckling following it’s mother, wherever he needed me.

if he needed me in a briefing to take notes for him, i was there. if he needed me to put in overtime to help him file the last minute paperwork, i was there. if he wanted a particular pastry from a specific bakery half way across town, i was there.

izuku was never mean, or demanding. always thanking me profusely for anything i ever did for him. leaving me to remind him that this was my job, and any way to make his life easier was good enough for me.

but maybe i should have held onto those blushed cheeks and crinkled eyes as he thanked me for the coffee that he didn’t even know he needed, for a just a little bit longer.

you know how a child will open a new toy on christmas and it quickly becomes their new favorite toy? playing with it non-stop, taking it wherever they go. until one day, they grow bored of it and never touch it again as it grows dusty at the bottom of their toy bin.

i know izuku wasn’t doing it on purpose, he didn’t have an intentionally mean bone in his body. i guess you could say, some other toys came around and took his attention away.

and that toy, was a particularly difficult mission in collaboration with uravity’s agency.

the two spent long hours cooped in his office as they went over notes, plans, intel, etc. until the conversation melted into talk about the old days and the wonderful memories they had together in high school.

i went to work the following days with absolutely no energy to handle whatever would be thrown at me. i hadn’t been able to get much sleep, as when i closed my eyes the only thing i could see was the look in his eyes when he saw her.

my patience was already thin given the events of the most recent week, but when the printer started malfunctioning leaving me unable to fax the papers izuku wanted me send, you could say that was the first domino.

i swatted and kicked and pressed any button on the stupid machine. telling myself i was merely trying to get to stupid thing to work, but deep down i knew that the printer was just my temporary punching bag. an outlet to unleash my anger and emotions onto something instead of letting them fester inside me.

so when one of izuku’s sidekicks came by, giving a snarky comment about my behavior, i was able to brush it off with a roll of my eyes and an equally snippy comment back.

but as the hunk of plastic remained steady in its plan to ruin my day, the lack of sleep and lingering resentment started to bubble within me once more.

i heard footsteps behind me and a joking voice say, “having a bit of trouble are we?”

if it weren’t for the white hot anger buzzing in my ears i may have been able to identify the voice before i lashed out on them. but we already established this was not my day.

so as my hands moved to clutch the machine below me, most likely to restrain my abuse to merely verbal instead of physical. i spit out, “listen i’m fucking trying okay? so how about you get off my ass and do something useful.”

i turned around to face who i thought would be another sidekick sent to push my buttons. but i instead came face-to-face with the green haired man himself.

eyes blown wide, mouth agape in shock, a light blush dusted under his freckles as he fought to handle the situation the best way he could.

but i beat him to it with a deep bow and an endless flow of apologies, opting to only blame my anger on the malfunctioning piece of junk behind me and not the several other reasons i was plotting murder in my head.

with a gentle smile and a soft chuckle he placed his hand to the back of his head, rubbing at the baby jade hairs of his undercut. “i see. bad days happen to the best of us.” he replied, his voice like honey.

i became drunk on the minor interaction he was giving me, bringing me back to the beginning days at this job where we would spend late nights trying to keep each other awake under the only singular yellow light as we finished paperwork. or where sometimes he’d invite me to spend lunch with him as he felt he’d enjoy the company.

i got lost in the intricacies of his face as he tampered with the printer. thin eyebrows furrowed in concentration, bottom lip captured between his thick scarred fingers as he muttered to himself.

i fell in a trance, locked on the slope of his button nose, his gemstone eyes, and chubby caramel cheeks dusted in freckles.

he looked essentially like the same boy i saw on the screen all those years ago, yet matured and hardened by the realities of life.

i wanted nothing more than to reach out and protect him any way my small quirkless body could. to be there for him the same way he was for everyone else.

he eventually got the printer to work with a boyish smile on his face as he told me that despite the good roughing up i gave the machine, he was able to locate and handle the issue. “next time, skip the punching and come find me, yeah? i’ll help with any problems you face.” he joked as he made his way into his office to resume his work.

i didn’t know it was possible to fall harder for that man, but he proved with every day of his existence that the impossible didn’t apply to him.

i was finally able to get some sleep the next few nights as my eyelids filled with the blush on his cheekbones and his gaze of concentration.

but my trip to cloud 9 didn’t last very long as the occasional meeting with uraraka became trips to her agency, and occasional meetings in civilian clothes to civilian places, like coffee shops and corner stores.

to anyone else, those would read as dates. to me, they read as dates. but izuku assured the gossiping sidekicks that it was strictly professional ~ nothing more, nothing less.

i knew that i would end up with more fits of restlessness and sleepless nights as i pictured the two of them laughing over a cup of coffee. so i sought out a replacement.

a moment. a look. a sentence.

anything directed at me that would choke out the ugly thoughts and images my brain would show me of the two of them together.

so that afternoon as i brought him his lunch, i placed the box safely onto the table beside him as he continued skimming through the papers littered across the desk.

he muttered a small ‘thank you’ but it wasn’t enough. as my hand moved to place his drink that i held in my other hand next to his food, a different idea popped in my head.

my hand moved faster than my brain could register what it had just planned to do. squeezing just enough for the lid to pop off and slip from my fingers to tumble into his lap.

as soon as the liquid and ice hit his lap he flew up from his seat and away from his desk.

my hands flew up to my mouth as a string of apologies fell from my lips. eyes watering in guilt as they moved around the room trying to locate something to soak up the mess with.

“i am so sorry, my fingers slipped and before i knew it i had lost control of the cup. i-i can’t tell you how sorry i am.” i rambled as i took my blazer off to wipe at the wet stains starting to form at the bottom of his teal suit.

“hey, hey, hey.” he said softly, taking my tinier hands into his large and battered ones. warmth enveloped my clutched sticky hands as he gently urged me to stand from my crouching position in front of him.

“it was an accident. no harm, no foul.” he said with a soft smile.

i should feel bad, as it wasn’t entirely an accident. but the warm and gentle look in his eyes made what little guilt i felt crumble away.

his thumbs rubbing soft circles to my skin as he worked to get the tears to stop streaming from my eyes was enough to get me to sleep like a baby for a good 2 weeks.

until it became a cycle. he would spend too much time around uraraka, and then i would do something all in the name of garnering his attention back on me.

was it wrong of me to do, to take advantage of his kindness? to take advantage of the fact that he was naive to my true intentions? maybe.

but i felt i deserved it. i felt i deserved to be looked at the same way he looked at her.

i wasn’t any different than she was. with the way she used her big brown eyes to pull him in. or the way her cute behavior made him blush. or the way her sweet way of talking made him laugh.

i can’t be her, or compare to her. so i found my own way around it. and no one could fault me for doing so. they just couldn’t.

at the end of the mission, uravity decided to throw a party in celebration of their win. a nice formal gathering, with everyone she had involved.

when izuku pulled me aside one late night to tell me that he was extending the invitation to me felt akin to a marriage proposal.

i wasn’t involved much in the case, merely being used as the one who provided them their lunch on their long meeting days. or filing and organizing the paperwork and notes that they would compile. i wasn’t out in the field, breaking bones like izuku or saving lives like uraraka.

i didn’t deserve to go, but i didn’t care. izuku had invited me personally and damn it, i was gonna be there.

yet, i shouldn’t have gone.

i shouldn’t have spent the hours on my makeup. i shouldn’t have enlisted the help of my best friend to do my hair as i gushed about how izuku had personally invited me, how he was the most perfect man ever, and how i was undoubtedly in love with him.

i shouldn’t have spent the week leading up to the event going from shop to shop trying to find the prettiest dress that was just the exact color of his eyes. i shouldn’t have spent about half my paycheck on said dress when i found it.

i shouldn’t have decided to face my fears and step out of my comfort zone to join a group of heroes that i knew were old classmates of izuku’s as they whispered about something that clearly was a raving topic.

because then i wouldn’t have heard how izuku was planning on confessing to uraraka. i wouldn’t have heard how this mission caused old high school feelings to rekindle. i should have known my place.

and that was far away from here, from the hero scene. i should have grown up to be an accountant or a chef.

when my father took me to get that checkup when i was 5, to confirm that there truly resides no quirk inside me.

i should have left it at that.

when i was riding my bike that day as a first year and i saw the group of boys huddled around a screen as they tuned into the u-a sports festival, i should have kept riding.

as maybe it would have saved me a lot of pain.

i backed away slowly, heels tapping against the tile floor as i hurried out of the building.

i didn’t realize how suffocated i felt until the chilly autumn hair brushed my face and into my lungs.

my whole body felt hot, i felt numb. i stumbled onto the sidewalk as i looked into the dark azure sky glittered with stars.

the tears finally spilled from my eyes as the stars muddled together into a messy blur. my stomach swirled and tensed as pit of nausea sunk in my stomach.

my chest heaved as it tried to process the crisp cold air into oxygen, but my throat was too tight to let much in.

i gasped and sobbed as my back hit the brick behind me, my legs wobbling unable to carry my weight much longer.

i slid into a crouched position as my tears mixed with the black of my mascara. streaming in pools down my cheeks, neck, and chest.

in the midst of my sobbing and heaving, i called my friend who was still at my apartment awaiting details of that night when i came home.

knowing it was far too early for me to be calling her she picked up the phone with confusion. it didn’t take much words from me, not like i gave her much, to convince her that she needed to come pick me up.

as she hung up the phone, my hand slipped from my ear, falling limp to my side as i placed my head into my other arm resting atop my knees.

this was inevitable and i knew it. no matter how many ways i was able to manipulate a sweet glance from him, it didn’t mean anything.

izuku was nice to everybody. sweet to everyone. kind to anyone.

but with her, it was different. he treated her that way, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

they had years of memories, of laughs. they were perfect for each other, both smart, and kind, and always looking to help others. never acting selfishly or for personal gain.

they shared soft touches like they did old stories. they looked at each other with the same respect and admiration.

i was wrong. uraraka and i are nothing alike. she didn’t have to beg izuku to look at her like she hung the moon, he did so without asking.

unbeknownst to me, as i was manipulating izuku into these fabricated moments of gentle gazes and kind words, i was manipulating myself.

lying to the deepest parts of me that knew that this wasn’t real. that i wasn’t her. that he didn’t think of us the same way.

to him, uraraka is an old friend, who views the world the same way he does, who shares his same passions, who built her quirk to do some good within this world.

to him, i was a coffee-getter, the girl who knew his lunch orders like the back of her hand, the girl who filed his papers. the quirkless little fangirl who practically begged him to give her a job under him.

i heard the metal door open and snap shut announcing that someone was now outside with me. however, i just assumed it was a party-goer stepping outside for a smoke or a phone call so i didn’t bother to look up.

i also wasn’t in the mood for if the person happened to be a drunk girl who was ready to become my therapist as she saw me crouched on the sidewalk wishing to become one with the cement and simply cease to exist.

“there you are, i was wondering where you went?”

i would have taken the amateur therapist over this.

the voice belonged to izuku, dripping with sugar and default kindness.

if i could become one with the bricks just a little bit faster that would be great.

“hey, are you alright?” his tone became worried but i still didn’t dare to look up from my arms.

“do you feel sick? did something happen? do i need to take you home?” there he goes, into hero mode. ready to drop anything to help anyone facing the slightest of inconveniences.

“please just leave me alone.” i mumbled, throat tight and voice wavering as i try to hold the tears that still remain to fall.

“what did you say? i didn’t quite hear you.” he said softly, gently setting his large hands onto my exposed shoulder.

they should feel like welcoming warmth, but instead they felt blistering hot as i shoved them away as quickly as i could.

“i said leave me alone.” i said, slightly louder as i no longer was stuffed in my arms and knees.

he immediately saw the mess my face was in, i could tell by the way he quickly reverted fully into deku.

“hey, what’s wrong? whatever it is, i can help. didn’t i say you could come to me whenever you ne-“

“oh my god just stop! i can’t take it anymore.” i snapped, finally able to look him in the face.

but not for long as i saw the same look on his complexion as the first time i snapped at him.

“you’re too fucking nice. leaving you vulnerable for people to take advantage of you. giving them a reason to be selfish.”

“i dont-“ he tried to start but i cut him off.

“i don’t need a hero, izuku. there are people you just can’t save.”

as he worked to wrap his head around what was happening, my friend pulled up in my getaway car.

i bent down and grabbed my purse, but before i could fully escape this night, izuku grabbed my wrist causing me to stare into his eyes.

now lit aflame with desperation, “please just tell me what’s wrong. let me help you.” he encouraged softly.

but i wasn’t going to fall for it, not again.

i wasn’t gonna be played for the fool as i took the soft look in his eyes for anything but the gaze of a hero hoping to add another save to their statistics.

“god you never know when to quit!” i yelled as i yanked my wrist back. “and i hate that i-“

loved that about you?

no, love that about you.

i shook my head, thankful that for once my brain caught my actions before i spilled and made a mess again.

i walked quickly to the car, opening the passenger door almost as fast in hopes that within its metal sanctuary i could finally escape this hell.

“y/n- i-“

“mr. midoriya.” i just about whispered, my energy long since drained.

he laughed gently and i cursed the way my heart squeezed a little at the sound.

still head over heels for the angelic sound.

“you haven’t called me that in a long-“

“i quit.”

“w-what?” he muttered in disbelief.

i wouldn’t believe it either, not after the way i came to him nearly 4 years ago saying i would even be willing to clean toilets if he asked me to, so long as i got to work for him.

“i quit.” i repeated.

“you don’t mean that.”

he’s right i didn’t, not really.

hot tears started to dribble as my lower lip puckered in a sour quiver.

“no i do, sir.” i shook. “i will send someone to collect my things on monday.”

and with that i closed the door.

“drive.” i whispered to my friend who after a moment of looking at me, trying to read me, silently put the car into drive and started forward.

leaving izuku behind to stumble after the car, mouth muttering, trying to form any sort of sentence or sense.

but i couldn’t see him, knowing not to look at the mirrors situated on the side of the vehicle.

for they too are liars, as objects in the mirror are farther than they appear.

*** my little blue bitch working overtime

🧼 also mayhaps “soap” by melanie martinez fits this story… unintentionally ~ but if i’m wrong it’s cuz i haven’t listened to it in a while

#izuku #izuku midoriya #deku #deku x reader #izuku x reader #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #izuku angst #deku angst #deku headcanons #deku imagine

128 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

monster, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: Mafia boss Min Yoongi and his bodyguard Jeon Jungkook punish you for being a smartass. Oh, I guess there’s some plot too. Maybe.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, threesome, unprotected sex [get tested please], creampie); abuse; non-idol!AU - mafiaaboss!AgustD!Yoongi (black-haired Daechwita AU), longhaired!tattooed!Jungkook; mercenary!reader; Jungkook has a praise kink; you have a pain kink (maybe psycho tbh)

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“And?”

He tapped the air with his black card.

“Order anything you like.”

A beat passed in silence. You shut the leather menu you were holding and placed it on the table. You closed your eyes slowly and blinked at him.

“I don’t think this date is going to work out.”

You turned and were about to get up from your chair, only to have a gun pointed right between your eyes. The smile the guard gave you was almost angelic with his full lips.

“Jimin, get that gun out of her face.”

You gave Park Jimin a venomous glare. The sunglasses meant you couldn’t see his eyes even if you wanted to. The private room at the restaurant meant there were no one was watching.

“Shoot it. I honestly don’t care.”

“We both know that’s what you’re really aiming for.”

After a long moment, you turned back around to face him. Him and his scar over his right eye. A fresh reminder every time that you were the one who did that. His brown eyes seemed dead.

“How long do you plan on acting like a bitch?”

He spun the black card against the table. You hated it when he flexed how much money he had and he knew it. He didn’t do it because he was arrogant. He did it because he knew it pissed you off.

“I don’t know, how long do you plan on keeping me?”

He shrugged casually. The card spun and spun like a tiny black tornado. Then it made a sharp snap as he slammed it to the table. His eyes flickered up to you.

“Forever.”

Min Yoongi.

You were supposed to kill him and you got caught. The only time you had ever been caught. In your defense, it wasn’t because you were bad at your job. You almost had him. The scar proved it. At this point, it didn’t matter if you killed him or not. Your original contact was now dead. Min Yoongi owned everyone who as anyone in the city. Blackmail, money, whatever it took. Maybe mafia boss was too cliché of a title for him. You, on the other hand, didn’t care what he did. It wasn’t as if you were some kind of angel either. Min Yoongi was just supposed to be another number to add to the list of people you killed for money.

And, well, there was no meaning to that money now, considering he basically owned the banks.

You were pretty sure there was something wrong with you. Something was a little off. People didn’t become mercenaries out of the goodness of their hearts, after all. Maybe you caught on to killing a little too easily and felt a little too little. Maybe causing chaos was a little too fun. A little bit of an anarchist, perhaps.

Yoongi cocked his head at you, his black hair covering his eyes a little. He had been trying to convince you to work for him all this time, but you didn’t see a point in it. He had nothing to give you. Money? There was nothing to buy and nowhere to go. Fame? Not quite the title you wanted as a mercenary. Power? Fleeting as far as you were concerned. Freedom?

Oh, no, Yoongi wasn’t going to let you have that.

“You can play along or I can have Jungkook play with you. Take your pick.”

You flinched. The only reason Yoongi wasn’t six feet under was because of that little shit who interrupted you. Knocked your aim off, caused you to slash instead of stab. A single second later and you were trapped in his muscular thighs, passing out from a triangle choke and armbar combination. It wasn’t just that you were bested. It was that you were bested so easily and without even being able to fight back.

Fucking little bastard.

Yoongi smirked.

“I could go for a game of Go Fish right now,” you sneered.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Ah, you really want it to be like this, don’t you?” He tipped his head and Jimin stepped out. Panic shot through you like lightning. Aw, shit. Yoongi watched your emotions change in an instant. He hadn’t meant play in the innocent sense, after all.

“It pains me more than it pains you.”

You made a face at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

The door slid open.

“Hey, hyung, what’s up?”

And in Jeon Jungkook sauntered. Black oxfords snapping against the hardwood floor. Black hair long and messy, wearing black slacks, matching black vest, and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He didn’t even bother to hide all the tattoos on his right arm. He gave you a cocky smile and looked over to Yoongi for instruction. Suddenly the short black dress Yoongi told you to wear was much too small and much too tight.

Yoongi tapped his fingers against the table.

Out of the two, you definitely preferred Yoongi. Mostly because Yoongi could be satiated.

You inhaled deeply. “I’ll behave.”

Yoongi’s lips curved into a sly smirk. “Begging, are you?”

“I was stating a fact. I don’t beg.”

Wrong answer. But, of course, you said it because you had too much pride to not to be a smartass. Yoongi smiled. His hand stopped moving.

“Are you hungry, Jungkook?”

“What about you, hyung? You haven’t eaten yet,” Jungkook asked inquisitively, hands in his pockets. “I couldn’t eat before you.”

Ugh. They all loved Yoongi like he was some sort of soft animal that needed to be protected. Even Jungkook, who Yoongi let do what he wanted because he was the youngest. You were sure Yoongi had to clean up some messes Jungkook made, which was why he wanted to use you. You were clean in conduct, diverse in methods, and apathetic to the cause. The perfect tool.

The problem was, he couldn’t convince you to do jack shit.

Yoongi took his card and calmly filed it into his wallet. Even though all of his guards were elegantly dressed, Yoongi was in an olive-green jacket, dark green shirt, and grey jeans. Silver accessories. No one could even guess how important he was.

And you? Tight, short, black dress with thin straps. Black heels. No jewelry. Smokey eye makeup and dark red lip. Not quite gaudy hooker, not quite rich wife either. A strange in-between.

Yoongi placed his hand flat on the table. Slowly, he turned It around and curled his fingers toward himself in a beckoning motion.

“Come here.”

You knew he was talking to you. He knew it, you knew it, Jungkook knew it. Jungkook’s dark brown eyes followed Yoongi’s hand, up the length of the table, and then to you. His lips curved into an amused smile. Like a predator to prey. You glared at the two of them. You never listened. You weren’t going to start now.

“You should listen to hyung, you know,” Jungkook purred, taking a step towards you.

“I hear every word he says,” you retort, standing up.

Yoongi tilted his head. Just a few steps and Jungkook kicked your chair aside, pressing his body against you. Hard, unrelenting, hot breath down your neck. You didn’t even look at him.

“Don’t even think about it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Yoongi, facing him as you responded to Jungkook’s words.

“I told you I’m no longer interested in murdering him.”

Yoongi gave you an open-mouthed smirk.

“You regret it now, don’t you?” Yoongi drawled slowly.

One second you were simply standing there. The next you were twisting out of the way as Jungkook tried to pin you against the wall, knee up to defend against Jungkook’s inevitable kick. Jungkook growled, grinning as he dove again. You went low, elbowing him in the thigh to throw off his balance and slam him into the floor. Or would have, if Jungkook wasn’t sturdy enough to simply take it and he drove his shoulder into your chest. You hissed at the contact of shoulder to sternum, already bracing your body as you slid across the floor due to your heels.

You felt a hand grab you by the hair and yank hard, making you hiss in pain as you went down hard on your knees. Fighting Jungkook always took all your concentration. It wouldn’t be that way if he wasn’t such a skilled fighter. Yoongi, however, was an impatient and dishonorable man.

Yoongi held on to your hair and pulled up, dragging you to your feet and slamming you against the table. You let him do it because, well, it was going to become a beating if you continued. Also, Yoongi was more lenient when he thought he was the stronger one. But you didn’t give him the satisfaction of you yelping in pain, even if your ribs felt like they were rattling.

“I think I would be worried if you didn’t try to fight for once,” Yoongi grunted, grabbing your upper arms and dragging you up the table. You tried to twist out of his grasp but Jungkook suddenly appeared between your legs and pinned your arms down.

“Ah, hyung, couldn’t you pick someone more… docile?” Jungkook complained with a pout as you panted with exertion.

Yoongi chuckled. “Are you trying to tell me you want her?” There was a dangerous edge in his voice.

“I’m only saying it would be easier for you,” Jungkook muttered, forcing your legs in their spread position as you were perched at the edge of the table. Hs eyes flitted to yours and it was obvious – the second Yoongi released you from his grasp, Jungkook would be ready to pounce.

“Take what you can get,” Yoongi growled. Coldness touched your skin as Yoongi flipped his switchblade out, slicing through the thin straps of the dress. You gritted your teeth as Yoongi’s face appeared in your vision. “I was going to let him eat you out but I’ve decided against it thanks to your antics.”

“Fuck you,” you snarled.

Yoongi shrugged. He pointed to your upper arm, tapping the implant under your skin with his blade.

“You can go in raw, Jungkook. Finally had Hoseok install it.”

Jungkook took his hands off your arms and began to unbutton his pants. “Seokjin-hyung is going to be really mad if we fuck in his restaurant,” he warned.

Yoongi scoffed. “Then I’ll let him have a taste too if he’s feeling upset.”

“This will not make me tame,” you hissed, looking up to him.

Yoongi gave you an almost-bored look. “That’s not what I’m looking for.”

You gasped as Jungkook yanked your dress up, ass hitting the table. Yoongi laid your arms one over the other above your head so he could hold them with one hand. The other laced around your neck, pushing your head up and forcing you to arch your back uncomfortably. Each silver ring cut into your skin painfully and you growled at him, even as Jungkook pulled out his switchblade and tore your panties to ribbons.

Yoongi leaned down, lips against your ear. His tongue slid out, curling around your earlobe. You stiffened, breathing swallow. He knew how to get you wet. He paid attention to detail, gently nibbling at your ear, listening to the change in your breathing as you gave in to him. You were human after all. You had your erogenous zones. You barely registered Jungkook cutting up the length of your dress, exposing your breasts to the cold. Your nipples hardened as Yoongi blew softly against your ear, whispering your name, almost pleadingly. It didn’t matter if he didn’t mean it.

“Don’t you wish it was me between your legs?” he breathed.

You sank your teeth into your lower lip, trying to control yourself. Your hand found his shirt and clutched a fistful of it in response. Yoongi chuckled and straightened, only to see Jungkook watching your pussy in fascination.

“Ah, so disappointing I can’t eat her out,” Jungkook pouted. “Looks so tasty.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Maybe next time, Jungkook.”

You could hear Jungkook’s pants falling to the floor, but you were still staring at Yoongi, holding onto his shirt. Yoongi seemed to notice your gaze and looked down at you with a smirk.

“What’s the matter? Ready to tell me you love me?”

You let go, scowling. “As–fuck!”

Jungkook entered you with one swift thrust, no stretching out, no warning, just hard dick shoved straight in. You gritted your teeth, breaking out of Yoongi’s grip and grabbing Yoongi’s shirt with both hands, struggling to adjust as Jungkook grabbed your hips and began to fuck you without remorse. You had never taken in someone raw before, and certainly not Jungkook’s rough, wild thrusts. Yoongi held you in place calmly by your neck as you struggled to not make a sound, feeling every vein and every thick inch of muscle pumped into you with vigor.

Jungkook, on the other hand, groaned lustfully as he fucked you, eyes closing as he felt your pussy clamp around him, tight and pulsing.

“Oh, fuck, hyung, it feels so good,” Jungkook moaned, throwing his head back, muscles bulging in his dress shirt and vest. His right hand dug into your hip, tattoos flexing with his tanned skin.

“Are you a spoiled boy, Jungkookie?” Yoongi drawled, voice low. He always watched. It didn’t matter who it was. He liked to watch.

“Yes, hyung.” Jungkook liked to be watched. He had a little bit of a praise kink when it came to his hyungs. He loved Yoongi, as they all did. Maybe a little too much. “Thank you, hyung.”

And well, Yoongi was clever. Even through you never told him directly, it was obvious you loved pain in all senses of the word. Delivering it, receiving it, all of it. Giving you the birth control implant was your gift as much as it was his. He could hear it, the strained moans you stubbornly kept in your throat, the wetter and wetter slapping of Jungkook’s hips against your own, watching with interest as Jungkook’s angry red cock thrust into you over and over.

He held your neck, slowly tightening. Your mind was fogging up, forced to feel the painful pleasure of Jungkook repeatedly pounding you into the table, his cock swelling inside you. Black spots danced on the edges of your peripheral vision, clouding your thoughts.

Jungkook bit his lip, digging his nails into your hips as he came with a groan. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling hot strings of cum shooting into you, filling you up as he pulled out with a hiss, cum dripping out of you.

He was still hard.

Yoongi let go of your neck and pulled out of your grasp. Before you had time to collect yourself, Jungkook was pushing you on top of the table, flipping you over so you were on your hands and knees. Your shredded clothes fluttered to the floor, heels still on as Jungkook climbed onto the table, pants at his ankles. You could hear his cum plop onto the table from your dripping pussy. A loud scrape and you looked up to see Yoongi repositioning the chair so he could witness your face.

He caught your eye but before you could lash out, Jungkook grabbed one arm and pinned it behind your back, shoving his cock into you once more. You gasped sharply, biting your tongue as Jungkook began to fuck you again, slowly rolling his hips into your cum-filled pussy. He moaned, feeling the extra slickness of your walls painted in his orgasm. Yoongi observed with interest, not looking away. Jungkook leaned down, hand snaking between your thighs.

“Don’t you dare,” you growled, more to Yoongi than Jungkook, but both ignored you. You felt Jungkook’s nail scrape against your clit and you stiffened despite not wanting to reveal that he found the right spot. Jungkook chuckled, voice dropping several octaves.

“Scream for me.”

He pinched your clit and you clamped down hard on your tongue, squeezing your eyes shut as you slammed your fist onto the table. He thrust into you, hard, making you see stars. Every muscle tensed as you struggled to keep in your noises, furrowing your brow as Jungkook pinched and flicked your clit, abusing it. You could feel your pussy clenching and throbbing around his cock, unable to control yourself as you came with a muffled scream. Liquid gushed down both of your thighs, the squelching sounds becoming louder. It was obscene.

Yoongi’s trademark open mouthed smirk appeared as Jungkook came once again, driven by your orgasm. You were filled up once again by his cum, gasping at the sensation of so much inside you. And Jungkook still didn’t stop, slowly beginning again, moaning at the sensitivity of his cock from the back-to-back orgasms. He let go of your abused clit and grabbed your hips. The first slap made you hiss, nails digging into your palm. He kept going, smacking your ass in between thrusts to feel your walls tighten.

“Such a spoiled boy doing such a good job,” Yoongi purred. Jungkook whimpered at the compliment, looking up to see Yoongi nodding in satisfaction.

“Are you hard, hyung?” Jungkook whined, voice softening when addressing the older man.

“Mm-hmm,” Yoongi hummed, spreading his legs a little to readjust. Jungkook watched him closely, trying to see his erection through Yoongi’s jeans. The thought made him even harder inside you. You squeezed his cock and he groaned, shoving himself all the way inside you.

“Let me see,” Jungkook pleaded, raking his nails down your back. You grunted in pain and glared at Yoongi.

Yoongi chuckled. “You want to see it that bad, Jungkookie?” He dragged out the younger man’s name, low and teasing.

“Please,” Jungkook moaned, gripping your side so tight you gasped. “Oh, please, hyung.”

Yoongi glanced at you, amused at your silent scowl telling him to give the man what he wanted. He unbuttoned his jeans lazily. Slowly pulling down the zipper, lifting his hips a bit to slide it down enough to reveal his black boxer briefs. They could see it now, the growing erection straining against his underwear.

Jungkook groaned, rolling his hips into you and hitting your deepest spot. You almost moaned, eyes fixated on Yoongi’s crotch. Jungkook did it again, mumbling to Yoongi.

“Please…”

Yoongi palmed himself through his underwear, taking his time. He leaned back, exhaling deeply as he ran his large hand over his clothed erection. Jungkook was whimpering, desperate for more.

“Hyung…”

Yoongi cocked an eyebrow and sighed, giving in. He always gave in to the youngest. He pulled down his underwear, letting his hard cock spring free. You felt breathless at the sight. Maybe it was Jungkook’s multiple orgasms getting to your head. But it was always like this. Yoongi always made you wait to see his cock. He knew how to make you blind to your own desperation, growing the hungry desire to see Yoongi’s ringed hand encircle his throbbing, beautiful cock, eyes half-lidded in arousal.

Jungkook moaned again lustfully, his pace increasing again now that he knew that he was the catalyst to making Yoongi hard.

“Harder, Jungkook. Fuck her rougher.”

Jungkook obeyed, slamming his hips into you so hard that the whole table shook despite being solid wood. You choked on air, feeling the cum dripping out of you as Jungkook began to fuck you wildly and with reckless abandon, hitting your most sensitive spots. And Yoongi, in all his audacity, continued to watch, still holding his cock. He noticed your gaze and he stoked himself slowly, making you bite down on your lip to avoid moaning. You shoved your cheek against the cool wood of the table, shuddering as you came, overwhelmed by pain and pleasure.

Jungkook hissed, shooting you full of cum once again. The sensation of being so full intoxicated you and you let out and soft whimper, hoping neither of them heard you. But, of course, Yoongi heard you.

Yoongi purred your name softly. You looked up at him, breathing hard, legs shaking. At this point your makeup was messy and your lips a little smeared, hair messy from fucking. He grinned as you winced, feeling Jungkook pull out of you. Jungkook was still semi-hard, the animal.

“Come here,” Yoongi said once again.

You had snarky comments prepared. You had you retorts all filed away. But the sight of Yoongi holding his hard cock, eyes smokey with lust made you forget all of them. Every muscle hurt from your constant strain of staying silent, refusing to let them hear you cries of pleasure. But your resolve was cracking now, seeing Yoongi’s want. You crawled off the table, ignoring Jungkook who was readjusting himself behind you. There was only Yoongi.

“Hold it in,” Yoongi commanded.

You walked towards him, trying not to hobble in your heels. Even now, you were prideful of how you presented yourself. You clenched your pussy tight, not letting Jungkook’s cum fall as you approached the black-haired man.

Yoongi removed his hand and patted his thigh. Wordlessly, you slid onto his lap, your hand lightly guiding him to your entrance. You placed one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself, spying his smug expression out of the corner of your eye.

“Need me that bad, huh?”

“Shut up,” you said hoarsely. Your throat was dry from breathing so hard.

Yoongi chuckled. “I need you too,” he breathed, lips against your cheek.

You sank down on him, eyes rolling back into your head as he filled you up. He was still mostly clothed, the rough denim rubbing against your thighs as you went down. Yoongi moaned in satisfaction, hands trailing up your sides and pressing his thumbs against your nipples. Against your better judgement, a cry left your lips as his cock shoved Jungkook’s cum deeper inside you. You could feel every contour of his cock, every vein pulsating against your walls.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” Yoongi drawled, pressing your nipples down and moving them in small circles. It wasn’t enough. You wanted his mouth on them and he knew it. He smirked. Yep, he wasn’t going to do it either.

You rolled your hips onto his cock. He grinned, pinching your nipples tightly and twisting them. A soft mewl reached your ears – you. Oh, fuck. Yoongi smirked triumphantly.

“Use my cock and get yourself off,” he purred. “You deserve it.”

It was all a trick. A ruse to feed your ego and yet you still did as you were told because he knew how to manipulate you, especially after wearing you out with Jungkook. It wasn’t fair, but Yoongi never played by the rules.

You lifted yourself up and sank back down, breathing hard. All your muscles were sore and yet you still found the energy to thrust your hips into Yoongi, squeezing him tight as you rode him. Yoongi pinched and pulled your nipples, fueling your arousal. He smelled so good, some kind of sharp pine, and it was driving you crazy. With a start, you realized the moans you were hearing were you, saying his name breathlessly over and over.

“That’s it,” Yoongi murmured, eyes half-lidded and smirk on his lips. “Cum for me.”

Shit. If you were in your right mind, you could refuse him, but you were so full of Jungkook’s cum with Yoongi’s dick so deep inside you that you could barely see straight. He kept pinching your nipples, flicking them hard as you went down, shocking your system every time. You came with a cry, gripping his shoulders hard as waves of pleasure raked though you, your entire body shuddering.

“Jungkook, hold her up.”

Yoongi removed his hands from your breasts, only to be replaced by strong, calloused ones. One tattooed, one bare. Jungkook held you firmly. You were panting, unable to look away from Yoongi’s eyes. His scar was an angry red. Those dark brown eyes looked at you like you were his queen, and yet it could all be a lie because Yoongi was a master manipulator. His black hair was pushed back, damp with sweat. He smirked at you, baring his teeth. You had a strange urge to kiss him, but you held back.

“Time to fill you up with me,” he whispered, hands settling on your hips.

The first thrust was slow, languid. Not enough. You bit your lip, feeling Jungkook roll your nipples slowly in between his fingers. Yoongi didn’t just want to fuck you. He wanted to drive you crazy. He wanted you to lose your mind. He sank in again, hissing with satisfaction. He made his cock throb inside you, your muscles clenching automatically in response. Jungkook ran his nail over your nipple and you could feel yourself becoming wetter with every passing second. Yoongi’s lips parted, a low, guttural growl clawing its way out of his throat. It was gravelly and deep.

“The implant was a good idea, wasn’t it?”

You gasped as he thrust in particularly deep.

“First time my cum will be mixing with Jungkook’s, deep inside you.”

Against your better judgement, you whimpered at his words. Fuck. Yoongi grinned, cocking an eyebrow.

“You like that, hm? Being pumped to the brim with cum?”

Before you could respond, Jungkook moaned behind you, pinching your nipples hard. You winced as Yoongi increased the pace, rolling his hips into you easily.

“Wonder how much you can take,” Yoongi drawled, eyes boring into yours. “Should I tie you up and let them all fuck you one by one? See how much cum you can keep in that pussy of yours before I fuck it all out of you?”

You hissed, feeling Jungkook grip your breasts and flick your nipples hard.

“Hyung, don’t get my hopes up…”

There was no way that the wet squelching noises between your hips were only your juices. You could smell Jungkook’s cum dripping down Yoongi’s cock.

“Or would you rather only have Jungkook?” Yoongi purred. He didn’t miss your eyes flashing at his suggestion. He chuckled deeply. “I’m always curious how far Jungkookie’s stamina goes.”

Jungkook was losing it behind you, groaning, pinching your nipples and ramming his clothed crotch into your back. He was rock hard, desperate for friction. Yoongi continued to fuck you, pace increasing ever so slowly.

“I want to see you on your knees,” Yoongi sneered, “Face into the ground, ass in the air, cum overflowing out of you and falling to the floor.”

You gasped, jerking forward from the force of Jungkook’s movements, your lips against Yoongi’s ear and his against yours. Harder, rougher. His lips touched your ear, tongue tracing your earlobe.

“And then I’m gonna fuck you,” he murmured, voice low and deep. “Fuck you until you can’t walk or see straight, and then wait for you to recover, only to do it again.”

You moaned into his ear, softly, falling apart to his words and his tongue.

“Yoongi, please…”

That wasn’t Jungkook. That was you, breathlessly begging into Yoongi’s ear, so quietly that Yoongi was sure Jungkook couldn’t hear you.

He waited, pumping his cock in and out of you roughly, smacking your hips together.

“Please fill me up with you.”

Yoongi made sure to chuckle right into your ear before he slammed you down hard onto his hips, shooting hot strings of cum inside, cock twitching mercilessly against your walls. You moaned his name, hands tangled in his black hair, whining as he pumped you full. He always had so much. You suspected he let it build up on purpose.

He pressed his lips against your ear. You could feel his infuriating smirk.

“Mine.”

click here for part ii --

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #min yoongi smut

944 notes · View notes

harryspet · 4 years

Text

good girl. bad habits. [1] peter parker

[Warnings] alpha!peter parker x omega!reader, omegaverse, boarding school au, dystopian au, soultmate au, spanking, teacher/student, physical abuse, misogyny, plot now/porn later

A/N: warnings should be explanation enough! this is probably going to have two parts :)

POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

In which you’re forced to attend a school for Omegas and you meet an Alpha that’s destined to shake up your world.

word count: 4.2k

main masterlist

taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @yanderepeterparker @ttqueen05 @belleknows @write-from-the-heart @sad-ed-noise @quaksonhehe

Wanda grabbed your hand, examining your nails with wide eyes, “Where did you get nail polish?” She whisper-shouted, trying not to draw attention to the two of you in the large auditorium. There were rows of girls surrounding you, all of them lacking any sort of individuality because of the stupid dress code.

“I traded for it,” Wanda raised an eyebrow and you sighed, “I’m doing her homework for Mr. Rogers for the next week. Worth it, right? Red looks good on me.”

Wanda gave you a disapproving look but you were quite used to it, “Trading?” Wanda scoffed, “You make it sound like we’re in prison.”

You only frowned, folding your hands in front of you, “That’s the only word I would use to describe it.”

Before Wanda could argue, the deafening sound of a microphone blasted through the auditorium, signalling that the assembly was about to begin. Mistress Romanoff stepped onto the platform, wearing her usual striking red hair and a black pencil skirt that hugged her curves. All the male teachers lusted for the Beta woman but you only felt jealousy. You wished your uniform skirt hugged your curves rather than dropping to your knees.

She carried the mic with her, clipboard in hand that held the contents of the meeting. It was the crack of dawn and you were running on little sleep but that wasn’t anything special for you. If you wanted anytime to yourself, you had to utilize the time after midnight which meant you often forgoed sleep.

“Good morning, ladies,” She addressed you all, her face lacking a smile or compassion, “You’ve already completed two months of the semester. A majority of you are passing your classes with flying colors. I hope you finish the semester just as strong as you started it ….”

That two months felt like a year to you. You’d spent the summer in a detention center and you were apparently “lucky” to be sitting here instead of there. In reality, you preferred the girls at the detention center over this school because they at least had spines. The girls here were mindless followers just hoping to please whatever men they had in their lives.

“As you all know, at the Stark School, our most popular event is the Halloween Ball. You know, a select few girls are chosen to attend based on merit as a reward for a job well done. This year, I have spectacular news concerning the event that I think all of you ladies will be glad to hear,” There were impatient, excited whispers that roamed over the crowd. You witnessed Wanda whispering something into the ear of the girl beside her. You only yawned, waiting for the assembly to be over, “This year, a select few males from the Asgard School for Alphas will be in attendance-”

Mistress Romanoff was interrupted by an overwhelming reaction from the crowd which consisted of loud squealing and gasps, “Ladies, please calm down. I know you’re all excited but don’t be too rash. There are still several weeks until the Ball. I would advise you all to be on your best behavior and to get your grades up if you want to be considered.”

You wanted to vomit in your mouth. The male teachers were worse enough. Being around young, Alpha males sounded like a complete nightmare. Wanda was freaking out beside you but you had tuned her out. With your current grades and disciplinary record, you’d end up at that Ball when hell freezes over.

You should’ve known that the Halloween Ball would consume everyone’s conversation for the rest of the day. It seemed you were the only one in the entire world that didn’t care. Except for Wanda, you didn’t really have any friends here and today was only adding to that isolation you always felt.

“Let’s go off script today and talk about our goals and aspirations. I often get a lot of questions from you all about advice on the plans for your future. This isn’t exactly Omega history but I figured we could use history in order to help guide us …”

As you sat in class, your eyes weren’t on the board in front of the class but out the window. The school consisted of long corridors, tall ceilings and tall windows. The ancient building sat in the middle of a forest in an area that you did not know. After the judge decided where you’d spend your senior year, they drugged you and brought you here.

You were only half listening to Mr. Rogers as he gave today’s lecture. The paint on your nails was far more interesting. Besides that, you hated how people only raised their hands to agree with him. Looking across the room at Wanda, you could see how in love she was with him.

“Throughout history, we see Omegas taking on a softer and more gentle role in our society, especially in females. Omega females are natural nurturers as well as natural followers. Can someone tell me why this is unlikely to change?”

You rolled your eyes as someone raised their hand, “It’s because it’s in our nature. It’s how the Goddess created us.”

“Exactly,” Mr. Rogers agreed with a smile, “There are leaders in our world and then there are followers. Both positions are equally as important. You can’t have one without the other,” You’d heard this type of lecture a million times and most of the girls at your school gobble it up, “There are a lot of options for omega females. After you meet your mates, the possibilities essentially become endless. There are many nurturing and low stress jobs. I know many Omegas who are secretaries, florists, and even preschool teachers. Most become homemakers and motherhood is the absolute most important job an Omega can have.”

You couldn’t hold in your scoff but, as soon as it left your lips, everyone’s head turned towards you, “What?” You asked no one in particular but to show that you didn’t want to be stared at.

“Miss Y/L/N, is there something you would like to add to the discussion?” Mr. Rogers asked and, although he was beginning to make your heart race, you only crossed your arms.

“No, thank you,” You spoke simply.

“I apologize if I’m boring you but this is a pretty important topic. Why don’t you tell the class your aspirations for the future,” You expected for him to move on but the Alpha seemed to focus in on you. You hated the feeling that crawled under your skin when you looked into his eyes. It was a force, a wall between the two of you to remind you that you were not equal.

“I’d like to be mate free, far away from this school, and on a beach somewhere rolling in cash,” Everyone in the room seemed to freeze, eyes widened, and the tension grew thick, “Consider it a five year plan.”

“And you expect to make money how?” Mr. Rogers began to pace in front of his desk, an annoyance in his glare towards you.

“I don’t know but hopefully I’ll make more than a teacher,” You grinned.

Steve stiffened and you saw Wanda look over her shoulder to you. “Stop it,” She mouthed to you.

“I’ll just move somewhere else. Somewhere they don’t treat Omegas like second class citizens.”

The class erupted in gasps and, for a moment, you felt quite powerful, “Stand up, right now,” Mr. Rogers snarled. You did as he said, knowing you wouldn’t be able to disobey a command.

You reached down to grab your backpack, “I know, I know … to the Head Mistress’s office,” You rolled your eyes.

“No, leave your things,” That made you pause and you looked up to see a smirk on his face, “Come up to the front of the class, Miss Y/L/N.”

You let your bag drop to your side with a thud. Everyone around you was still whispering and staring. You felt that power drifting away as you made your way down the aisle and towards the front of the classroom. Skirt too high on your thighs, nail polish on your hands, and an attitude on your face that you were struggling to maintain.

You stopped a few feet in front of your teacher before he said, “Hands on the desk,” He ordered you. You huffed out a sigh, every bone in your body telling you to obey. You walked past him, putting your hands down on his desk which left you slightly bent over with your backside exposed to the room of forty girls. “This, young ladies, is important for all of you to see. There will always be some who resist their true nature and who cause disruption.”

You heard the sound of him removing his belt from the waistband of his pants and your body cringed.

You’d heard that things like this happened often here. You heard the head mistress had a secret closet of tools she used on disobedient omegas. You’d never heard of a Professor disciplining a student in front of an entire class.

You wanted to scream and shout but decided that remaining stoic would save you the most embarrassment. Even as he lifted your skirt, you didn’t say a word, only shut your eyes tightly, “Whatever career path you choose, your mate will have to approve. This is not because you are second class citizens but because your mate will know what’s best for you. Ranks are ingrained within us and, no matter how much we fight it, we still end up in positions like you. If we only stayed in our lanes, others wouldn’t have to enforce their rank.”

The first slap of the belt burned badly. You couldn’t help but cry out as your knees buckled together and you tightly gripped the wood of the desk.

He kept going, forcing the class to count along as he completely bruised your bottom. He stopped at fifteen but, by that time, tears were already streaming and you were silently weeping.

The next few weeks passed in a blur with your usual routine of going through your classes like a zombie and listening to Wanda’s ramblings. Like a lot of girls, Wanda already had an Alpha with his eyes set on her. Bucky Barnes, an older man and well respected Alpha had already staked his claim. Wanda’s current mission was to have as much fun and attention that she could before being forced to settle down.

You started to notice how Wanda’s usual group of friends was dwindling as she continued to sit with you. Although she often disagreed with your mentality, she still stayed which was more than anyone had ever done for you.

“Are you really going to run? Escape?” She asked in a whisper as she discussed the forbidden topic.

“Why would I stay? No Alpha will want me. Not even a Beta would,” You only shrugged, stirring your spoon around your bowl of soup.

“That’s not true,” Wanda insisted, “You just …. you just have to adjust a little more. I think you could be happy eventually if you just played the part for a little while. An Alpha could offer you security.”

You shook your head, “I don’t like the cost. I think I’d rather scrub toilets for the rest of my life.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at your words, “I don’t think you would, Y/N. There’s got to be a part of you, deep down, that wants the stability.”

You didn’t answer the question and you didn’t allow the thought to stay on your mind, “Don’t worry about me, just enjoy your dance. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find another Alpha and you can watch them fight over you.”

Wanda smiled, a dreamy look in her eyes, “That does sound wonderful, doesn’t it?” Not long into your conversation, you felt a tapping on your shoulder and a woman telling you that you’re needed in the head mistress’s office, “What did you do now?”

“Nothing,” You said immediately, grabbing your things, “You can have my pudding cup. I’ll see you after last period.” Wanda only nodded, a look of worry on her face as you were escorted away.

The woman, who you assumed was some type of secretary, advised you to fix your appearance. The Stark School was like an old castle with vast hallways and tall ceilings of stained glass. Mr. Rogers told the class one time that it had been used as a fort in a war hundreds of years ago. People thought it was an interesting fact but the antiqueness of everything left you feeling creeped out most of the time.

You arrived at her office after climbing the winding stairs of the tallest tower. Mrs. Potts was waiting by the window when you entered. You kept your hands folded, hiding the nail polish on your fingers as you waited for her to address you. She stared out of the window, out to wear P.E. classes were being held, and your eyes wandered to the large wardrobe in the corner.

You gulped as you realized that was probably where she kept her weapons of discipline, “How are your studies going, dear?” You turned your head to find her staring intently at you, “Come, sit down.”

You moved forward, obeying the Alpha Females commands, and taking a seat in front of her desk, “Well, I’m not failing anything,” You spoke tersely.

“I heard,” She nodded, taking a seat behind her desk. She straightened the jacket of her black suit as she folded her hands over the desk, “That’s a big improvement, Y/N. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

You raised an eyebrow, “To talk about my improvement?” You put the word “improvement” in quotes.

“Exactly, when you first arrived you started with at least one infraction a day. Now you’re down to one a week. I can tell you’re learning and that you’re adjusting well.”

“Are you letting me out of here earlier then?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

Pepper only chuckled, “Here’s what I’m offering you - a chance to go to the Halloween Ball.”

“Why would I want that?” You asked.

“When the school year is over, you won’t have many options. If you get back on suppressants, you’ll be caught and end up back in the Council’s bad graces. It’s my job to help you and I don’t want to see that happen,” You could tell that she was being sincere but there was still the ulterior motive of simply getting you out of her hair, “You’ll go to the ball, maybe you’ll meet someone willing to take you in and give you something better than what you can give yourself.”

You frowned, “I’m assuming you’re not giving me a choice.”

Pepper sighed, “You have over fifty infractions, Y/N. Any other student would have been kicked out by now. Just take this chance.”

It was quite amusing to you watching the group of boys and girls meet each other. They both seemed to be an inexperienced group of teenagers awkwardly trying to figure things out. The girls stood on one side and the boys stood on the other for the first ten minutes of the dance before a brave boy walked over to ask a girl to dance. Now, the dance was in full swing and you were sitting by the snack table, easing your anxiety with cookies.

Wanda loaned you a long white dress and allowed you to cut it into something off-shouldered with a slit down the side to expose your thigh. You watched Wanda who was dancing happily in a champagne pink, ruffled dress.

The Alphas that passed you only stared, probably wondering why you weren’t bashfully batting your eyelids at them. Another thing that added to your anxiety was the energy they gave off. You could handle class with Mr. Rogers but being in the ballroom was putting you on edge.

You sat through a few more loud pop songs before finally standing up and heading for the exit. As you made it to the door, you heard an out of breath Wanda calling for you. You turned to see her pulling a boy along with her, a look of lust in his eyes as he gazed at her. He wasn’t what made your breath hitch in your throat, it was who was behind him.

“Y/N, this is Brad,” She gestured to the boy whose hand was interlaced with hers, “And this is his friend Peter.”

Peter.

Something made you do a double take. You didn’t recognize him but you felt your world shift at the sight of him. You felt your heart rate increase as she felt something foreign … attraction. A kind face that didn’t match those brown eyes that screamed danger. In those few seconds where your eyes lingered on his, you questioned every feeling you’d ever had.

“I’m going … on a walk,” You told Wanda, not addressing them.

“Take us with you to get some fresh air,” She winked at you, knowing what you were hinting at.

Your shoulders slumped but you nodded, “You’re lucky there’s enough in my stash.”

You turned around and pushed open the gymnasium door and led the three of them into the hallway. The four of you did your best to avoid any chaperones, dipping into a custodian's closet when you heard the tapping of heels coming your way. Like you had planned it, you switched on the light and ran your eyes over the many shelves.

“How did you even get it?” Wanda whispered.

They did bed checks often and a lot of the administrators were fond of combing through your dorm room thoroughly.

“I’m cool with the janitor,” You answered simply, shrugging. As you found the empty container for disinfecting wipes, you reached in to find what you were looking for. You felt the young Alphas eyes burning into you as you presented it to the group.

A flask.

You tilted the silver container back, swallowing quickly in an attempt to not taste the vile liquid. Not meeting his eyes, you held the flask out to the side for him to take. The four of you were making your way to the lake. Wanda and Brad, stuck in their own world, had wandered ahead which left the two of you to awkwardly walk beside each other down the dirt path.

When he didn’t take it, you glanced at him, “I don’t think that’s going to get me drunk,” He said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo. His tie was undone, hanging around his neck and the first few buttons of his white shirt were undone. You couldn’t help that your eyes lingered on the skin of his chest and he seemed to notice. He flashed you a curious look but you turned your head again.

“Suit yourself,” You took another sip, scowling as you pulled it from your lips.

The four of you arrived at the lake and it seemed Brad and Wanda couldn’t keep their hands off of each other any longer. After taking a big swig out of the flask, she told you that she and Brad were going to go “check out” the storage cabin where the school kept lake gear. She giggled as he pulled her away, leaving the two of you along on a picnic bench, staring out onto the eerie, dark water.

“What’s your last name?” He asked and a part of you was frustrated that he was trying to make small talk with you.

“You wouldn’t know my family,” You said simply.

“Try me,” He challenged you like the cocky Alpha you assumed he was.

“They’re dead, it’s not like it matters.”

“How?” He continued, “How did they die?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “Do you always ask girls about traumatic topics when you first meet them?”

“You don’t seem like most girls I’ve met.”

“And I guess that’s an excuse?” You scoffed but his expression didn’t change. He seriously wanted to know, “They were rogues and they died like everyone else who defies the Council. Happy?”

“I’m sorry,” Was his curt response.

An Alpha apologizing? You never thought you’d see the day.

“What’s your last name?”

“Parker,” Your eyes widened as the name left his lips.

“You’re … you’re Tony Stark’s nephew?” He only nodded, “And you’re saying sorry when your uncle is on the council. When he’s the reason they’re dead. That’s rich.”

“I’m not my uncle,” He stated more firmly than you expected. It took you back for a moment and the two of you stared intensely for a long moment.

“I don’t care,” His eyebrows tightened and his lips pressed into a rectangle at your reaction, “Even if you don’t want to end up like him, you probably will. It’s a part of your nature,” You spoke, mocking the words you heard all day long in class.

“It’s not a part of my nature to kill those who disagree with me,” Your eyebrows furrowed at his words.

“How else will you assert your dominance, oh wise Alpha?”

He breathed deeply, sensing how you were toying with him, “A good alpha doesn’t need to kill or rely only on their strength. Alphas who lack the respect of their followers do.”

It deeply confused you that someone like him could think this way. You were quiet for a moment as you thought it over, “Are you saying Tony Stark lacks the respect of his people?”

“They only fear him,” Peter’s eyes seemed to darken even in the moonlight shining down on the two of you.

Pete watched as it clicked within your mind, “And you don’t want to be feared?” As he leaned in closer, you surprised yourself by not pulling away. You felt that same magnetism pulling you towards him, promising you pleasure, but frightening you at the same time.

His fingers brushed against yours and a shiver went down your spine, causing your lips to part and your eyes to widen, “Control feels much better when it’s instinct. When it’s wanted and desired. That’s real control,” His voice was warm, and surprisingly calm. It made you forget for a moment and drop the walls. Your eyes roamed over his every feature, ever line of his jaw, and ever curl of his hair.

His eyes wandered down to your lips and you suddenly snapped out of the spell. You stood up from the bench with a start, realizing how deeply you were just staring at him, “I don’t believe in those bullshit rankings,” You stated firmly and he stood up with you, trying to close the distance between the two of you, “They’re all fucking lies.”

You were about to turn away when he grabbed your upper arm. You gritted your teeth as he pulled you into him, “Believe this then. I want you, Y/N.”

“Let go of me,” Your voice was lower than you expected as you stared into those eyes. Why was your voice so weak? “You don't even know me.”

“It’s instinct,” He said, holding your firmly although his grip was tight, “And I can tell that you feel it too. Deep down, you’re searching for someone to take care of you. You want reassurance like they all do.” You tried to look away from him but you just couldn’t. “Someone hurt you badly, didn’t they?” You shook your head, tears starting to sting your eyes. “A girl like you needs someone gentle. Someone to ease you into submission rather than force it.”

You felt like you were melting into him and as his head dipped down to place his lips on yours, that voice in the back of your head was screaming to kiss him back. Your wrist pinned together between you, Peter stole your first kiss and it was a wonderfully terrifying feeling.

You felt warmth in your core and you tightened your legs together as he began to kiss along your jaw and then your neck, surely leaving marks on your skin, “Peter …”

“Tell me to stop,” He said against your skin.

The words were on your tongue but it was like your body had switched to autopilot. It wanted his touch and that’s all your body wanted to focus on. When he finally did pull his lips from your skin, your body was still craving that foreign touch.

Before his hands could roam over the rest of your body, a bright light blinded the two of you and footsteps approached. Peter let go of your skin but you still felt his touch, as Mr. Rogers appeared. You only crossed your arms, looking down at your feet as the two of you were caught.

“What are you doing out here, son?” Of course, Steve didn’t address you.

“We wanted to look at the Full Moon,” Peter lied, “My apologies, sir.”

“Where’s Maximoff?”

“We haven’t seen her,” Peter shrugged casually.

“I’d stay away from this one if I were you. There’s plenty of good girls worthy of your time,” Steve gestured to you but him disliking you was the least of your worries at the moment, “You can head back to the dance, Mr. Parker. I’ll be escorting this one back to the dorms.”

Peter stepped forward, walking past Steve, but he looked back to mouth something to you.

Clear as day, you could read his lips say, “You’re mine.”

No matter the cost, you decided then that you’d run. Run from this place and from the feeling Peter gave you that made you so weak in the knees.

part two

2K notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

Hello! As a prompt, can I ask for an AU where WWX says "fuck it", gives the seal to the Jins, and disappears from the cultivation world with the Wens. At first ppl are happy, then they realize letting Jin Guangshan having the seal was a huge ass mistake, and now they have to find WWX, swallow their pride and ask for help.

Untamed verse

“In retrospect, Wei Wuxian shouldn’t have given Jin Guangshan the Yin Tiger Seal.”

“What choice did he have? Jin Guangshan had him over a barrel, especially with what he did in defense of the Wen sect…”

“At least he only abused his power to defend people, rather than –”

“Shh! Don’t say it specifically. He might hear.”

Lan Wangji continued walking, his head held high, and didn’t allow any sign of his displeasure to rise to the surface. It was all well and good for the various small cultivators to regret it now that Wei Wuxian was gone, but weren’t they among those who spoke against Wei Wuxian when he was still here? It was partly their disdain and revulsion that cause Wei Wuxian to give up, to give up the seal, to retreat from the world without leaving the slightest trace behind beyond the empty dwellings of the Burial Mound…

It had been a few years now.

At first, the cultivation world had celebrated Wei Wuxian’s disappearance; in fact, the only thing they regretted was that he hadn’t been killed outright. The right way for the end of such a tragedy, they said, was a grandiose battle that would live up to the rest of his legend – but Lan Wangji knew that their real motive was so that they could say to all who listened that they participated in taking him down.

And Jin Guangshan – with the power of the Yin Tiger Seal in his hand – had become Chief Cultivator, showering everyone with the Jin sect’s riches. The Nie sect had protested, but wasn’t interested in starting another war, and all the junior sects were inclined to support it.

It hadn’t been long before that had spoiled.

Jin Guangshan had always enjoyed having things go his own way, after all – and he’d never been good at restraining himself, especially when it came to women. At first it was limited to those who didn’t have the ability to protest, but after the first one did…

The Yin Tiger Seal gave him too much power. Who could resist him?

The first time Jin Guangshan wiped out a clan, he’d come up with an excuse for it. But when he got away with that, it seemed to go to his head, and he stopped even pretending after that. Female cultivators fled Lanling in droves, whether they could afford to do so or not, and the sects who tried to make trouble faced disaster.

The junior sects turned to the three Great Sects, but they had their own troubles. Jiang Cheng’s sister had disappeared, her son with her, and Jiang Cheng was certain that Jin Guangshan was behind it, though Lan Wangji personally suspected that Wei Wuxian might have had something to do with it – assuming he could get news from wherever-he-was, he would never leave his shijie to suffer.

Lan Wangji’s own sect…

A frown surfaced on Lan Wangji’s face, just as it always did when he thought about it. Jin Guangshan had seen the noises the Nie sect and the Lan sect were making about him; he’d sacrificed a pawn to trip them up, and very successfully, too.

The former Jin Guangyao – Jin Guangshan had cast him out of Lanling and told both his sworn brothers about the various things he’d done. Obviously, everyone knew that he’d undoubtedly done it at Jin Guangshan’s instigation, but he’d still done them…and he was the only one clever enough to think of using the Song of Clarity, Lan Xichen’s gift, as a method to poison Nie Mingjue through his family’s hereditary weakness.

The revelation had very nearly destroyed Lan Xichen, and Nie Mingjue wasn’t much better. The former had largely withdrawn into seclusion, while the latter had temporarily removed himself from his role as sect leader in order to try to heal the damage. Nie Huaisang had temporarily assumed the position, nearly red-eyed with rage that reminded everyone that his share of the family inheritance was merely latent rather than absent – Lan Wangji worked closely with Nie Huaisang these days, managing the resistance against Jin Guangshan.

They got along well. Lan Wangji had his own rage to work through, too – for Lan Xichen, of course, but not just that.

For Wei Wuxian, too.

Jiang Cheng was the third member of their group. They weren’t as easy with each other, as Lan Wangji couldn’t quite let off his suspicion that he knew where Wei Wuxian was and just wasn’t telling.

Lan Wangji couldn’t blame him if that were the case, and yet…

Their efforts had borne some fruit, creating a division in the cultivation world between them – they weren’t powerful enough to attack Lanling, but Jin Guangshan was too lazy to do much more than rule his own territory and occasionally lash out at people who disagreed with him, even from a distance. Even with the Yin Tiger Seal, he didn’t have the heart of a conqueror, and that was the only thing keeping them all safe.

It wouldn’t last, though. He lashed out more and more, his temperament affected by the resentful energy, his psyche cracking – one day, he’d attack, and they’d lose hundreds of lives trying to stop him.

At least, they would if they couldn’t find someone to beat Jin Guangshan at his own game.

They needed Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji needed Wei Wuxian.

He was on his way to the Lotus Pier once more to beg Jiang Cheng to share what he knew, if he knew it; perhaps this time, he would be successful.

Perhaps this time, he’d be able to show Wei Wuxian that he’d stand by his side, rather than in his way

#mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #jin guangshan #assorted others #my fic #my fics #Anonymous

892 notes · View notes

kaen-ace-of-diamonds · 3 years

Text

Cinderquil

Word Count: 4900+ (oneshot)

[AO3]

Genre: Fluff/Friendship

Characters: Cinder Fall, Cinder’s Pokemon

Summary: Pokemon AU. Ever since they were young, Cinder's only Pokemon has been her starter, Ella the Houndoom. She is proud of her position as her Trainer's sole companion and sees no reason for anything to change, thank you very much. So when Cinder brings home a new addition to their team, Ella's world is turned abruptly upside down.

Warnings for implied/reference child abuse and animal abuse

Inspired by this art by @astoria00!

~0~

Ella, like her Trainer, had no concept of downplaying her own importance.

She considered herself the paragon of partner Pokemon. Ever since she was a little Houndour, tripping over her own paws and barely able to cough out a flame, she had always done her best to look after Cinder. The girl she had grown up with was whip-smart and strong, as hotblooded as any Fire-type, and Ella would follow her commands without hesitation.

That being said, she didn’t always understand what was going on in Cinder’s head. For instance, coming to this unfriendly and unfamiliar region on the orders of that shadowy organization. Sure, the safe house they’d been provided was comfortable, a small and cozy cabin in the woods, but, Ella wondered, at what cost? She had been alone for hours.

Ella watched the thick forest around her with all the alertness of a hunter, gnawing at the large Grumpig ear she had been given. It was not hard work, guarding the cabin while Cinder was out on her mission, and it was clear that Ella was better suited for the job than Talonflame. The Flying-type had been lent to Cinder by her new leader for easy transportation, and while the supercilious look in his eyes got Ella’s hackles up, she didn’t feel threatened by the new addition. Talonflame was, if not temporary, nothing more than a utility.

Ella was Cinder’s only Pokemon. As for Ella herself, she disdained the company of both humans and other Pokemon alike. None of them had ever done anything for her: all she needed was her Trainer.

It was growing dark, and she could smell impending rain in the air — not unusual, in this awful cold and wet region — and was glad when she caught Cinder’s scent alongside it, growing steadily closer. She did not move from her spot on the front porch, but her ears perked up and her gaze homed in on the speck of red in the distance. Small as it was, it stood out against the dark greens and cloudy greys that surrounded them.

Ella didn’t scramble up and run to her as she would have in the past — she had learned professionalism alongside Cinder as well — but her shoulders relaxed and her barbed tail flopped back and forth against the wood. Finally, her Trainer was home and things were the way they were supposed to—

Wait a blasted minute.

What was that?

“Hello, Ella,” Cinder greeted her as she stepped out of the trees, as if everything were normal. “Did you miss me?”

Ella jumped to her feet with a furious bark, the Grumpig ear clattering down the stairs. Her tail stood straight out and her head reflexively jerked up and down, showing off her horns to the tiny, dirty, squirming thing that Cinder was carrying into their house.

To the Cyndaquil’s credit, she got the picture immediately. She didn’t even try to flare up her back before emitting a loud squeak and attempting to leap out of Cinder’s arms, presumably to scurry back to whatever hole in the ground she had come from.

Unfortunately, instead of coming to her senses and letting it go, Cinder held Cyndaquil tighter, close and protective. After a few seconds, she curled up timidly against her chest.

“Shh, relax, it’s okay. Ella’s not going to hurt you.” She narrowed her eyes warningly at Ella as she walked up the stairs and into the cabin. “Ella is going to be a nice girl and hear me out.”

No, Ella damn well would not. Not without standing her ground and making her case. She followed Cinder inside growling and bristling.

Once the door was shut behind them, the one Pokeball at Cinder’s belt burst open, and Talonflame flapped across the living area to his perch next to the fireplace. His beady black eyes watched them with unusual interest, and Ella resented the sense that she was putting on a show for him.

What’s gotten into you?! she barked at her Trainer, who had begun trying to coax Cyndaquil out of her defensive ball. You said all you needed was me! Why would you do this without even asking me?

True, all Cinder could hear was “Houndoom Houndoom Houndoom Houndoom,” but after all this time, Ella knew she was getting the gist of it.

“I realize that this is sudden,” Cinder began, her tone deliberately calm and even. “But I couldn’t exactly leave her there and run back to check with you. And we can’t just toss her out now that I’ve brought her here.”

Ella snorted. Very convenient for both of them. And how soon can I expect to be replaced? Was I that shameful of a starter?

With her free hand, Cinder reached over to grab a towel from the kitchenette and started rubbing the dirt from Cyndaquil’s damp fur. She let out a muffled squeak at the sudden touch, but didn’t uncurl.

“I expected to run into some people while I was out, that wasn’t the problem. There’s plenty of towns and cave systems around these mountains to look through. I didn’t plan on actually battling anyone, but apparently somebody on the trails had something to prove. One of those rich boys — you know the type, of course.”

Yes, they had met more than enough of those in their time. One of Cinder’s new teammates even seemed like one all grown up, complete with an equally smug Toxitricity by his side. Ella didn’t relax at all — in fact, her shoulders tensed up more — nor did she soften her accusing glare, but she did cease growling.

“So he won’t take no for an answer, won’t even break eye contact, and I decide that if he insists, I might as well teach him a lesson. He had three other Pokemon, and they were high-level but sloppy. I’d bet money that he didn’t catch them himself, that they were gifts or trades that he had no idea how to actually deal with. Talonflame made short work of them, but then — hm?”

Cyndaquil had been starting to lift her nose tentatively out of her defensive ball, and only now that she wasn’t too frightened to think did she notice the running slow cooker and containers of Pokemon food on the counter. The realization made her pick her head up and squeak loudly, and the smile that broke out on Cinder’s face was of the sort that Ella hadn’t seen in years.

“Are you hungry? I know, you’ve had a long day...” She dug around in the box of PokePuffs — not strictly belonging to Ella, but who else’s would they be? — and pulled out a Basic Spice to offer it. “Here, you can have this, can’t you?”

Cyndaquil sniffed the treat, and gnawed at it a little, but didn’t move to take or actually eat it. Cinder sighed.

“Well, I had hoped so, but I guess not.”

She gently pushed the treat into Cyndaquil’s stubby arms until they gripped it, and then knelt to set the tiny Pokemon on the floor. Ella tilted her head as she scowled down at her: what was the matter with her, stumbling around like that? Had she hit her head somehow?

Cinder shot Ella a warning glance that, in Ella’s mind, was completely uncalled for. “Be nice.”

Ella huffed, and stalked deliberately closer. Cyndaquil paused in trying to figure out what the PokePuff she held was, and looked worriedly between the human and Houndoom glaring at each other. Once Cinder was satisfied that Ella would not, in fact, rip the smaller Pokemon’s head off like some kind of feral beast, she turned around and started going through the cabinets and minifridge.

“I did beat his whole team, as far as I’m concerned,” she went on with her story as she retrieved the big saucepan and a carton of milk. “All the ones who were fit for battle. But when I held out my hand for the money he owed me, he went purple in the face and insisted that we weren’t done. He pulled another Pokeball out of his pocket, and sent her out. And of course she had no idea what was going on, did you, dear?”

Cyndaquil blinked, puzzled, and nearly tripped over her own chubby legs. Ella’s anger was very quickly giving way to confusion of her own; she knew that the average starter Pokemon wasn’t wildly powerful, to match its equally inexperienced Trainer, but surely they started at at least level one?

“No, she didn’t. I don’t know what garbage breeder they got her from, but she was definitely not ready to be separated from her mother. Even Talonflame backed off.”

Something finally clicked in Ella’s head, and her eyes went wide. She lunged forward, claws clacking on the hardwood floor, to sniff vigorously at Cyndaquil, who nearly fell over backwards in surprise. Under the rainwater and dirt, the scent of juvenile pheromones was unmistakable.

From up on his perch, Talonflame chirruped, amused. It really took you this long to notice? Do you usually growl at baby humans, too?

Ella was too stunned to even bark back. True, she didn’t spend any time around other Pokemon, but she should still have known...

“Obviously this spoiled brat had no business keeping her in his care,” Cinder said, stirring vanilla and cinnamon into the simmering pan. “But fortunately, it was very simple to set up an exchange.”

Talonflame chirruped, amused. Your Trainer throws a mean Mach Punch, Ella.

Cinder smirked at the fresh memory. With her free hand, she reached into her hip pouch, pulled out the shards of a shattered Pokeball, and tossed them into the trash can. Ella heard muffled clinks, and caught a glimpse of a coin purse that definitely was not theirs. Or, well, it hadn’t been before.

“I think it’s about time we start expanding our team, anyway. We’re in service to a very powerful leader now. We should be meeting a higher standard.” She glanced at Ella while digging back in the cabinet for the Vespiquen honey, and amended, “An even higher standard. I know this was a shock to you, Ella, and I don’t expect you to babysit her. But I couldn’t imagine a better example for her than you.”

Well. Ella couldn’t argue with that. She considered Cyndaquil for a moment more, watched her twitch her nose curiously up at her, and then ducked her head down to take the smaller Pokemon’s scruff in her mouth. As expected, she was still young enough that she went limp in her teeth.

Cinder blinked, but didn’t move to stop her. “Ella? What are you doing?”

Ella didn’t respond; she was already carrying Cyndaquil over to the living area. She laid down on the rug, deposited Cyndaquil between her front legs, and set about licking her short, downy fur. She wasn’t sure how Typhlosion mothers usually groomed their young — she barely remembered how her own mother had done it — but this felt right.

Cinder smiled and returned her attention to the pan on the stove. Cyndaquil, for her part, didn’t seem upset, but she was certainly confused.

Who... She was cut off by Ella’s wide tongue sweeping over the top of her head, but tried again. Who are you?

My name is Ella, she informed her, making sure to get the back of her neck. Cinder’s hasty rub with the towel hadn’t done anywhere near enough to rid her of the residue on her fur, and it certainly hadn’t done anything for the scrapes on the skin underneath. I am your teammate now.

Oh. Cyndaquil squirmed around some more until she could look up at Cinder’s back. That lady’s nice. And warm.

Her name is Cinder. She is your Trainer, and you should do as she tells you.

My Trainer’s sleeping on the ground back there, Cyndaquil said with innocent bluntness. I don’t think he got up yet.

Talonflame let out a deliberate, throaty laugh, and Ella shot a warning glare over her shoulder before returning to her ministrations.

You can forget about him, she insisted to Cyndaquil. All you need now is us.

Perhaps it was only because Cyndaquil was too young to fully grasp the reality of her new situation, but she didn’t question it any further. Instead, she settled down between Ella’s front legs and continued to watch Cinder make her dinner, submitting to a thorough grooming as she did so.

Talonflame tilted his head back and forth as he stared down at them. You’ve changed your tune quickly, haven’t you, Ella?

Shut up, said Ella curtly, in between licks. You’re not staying.

We’ll see about that, Talonflame replied, too lazily to be threatening, as he tucked his head beneath his wing for a brief nap. Wake me when dinner’s ready, will you?

Ella made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. She couldn’t find the room to care about that right now. Not when the cabin was steadily filling with sweet and savory scents, when the room was growing warm in the way it only did when the evening chill was falling outside, when there was a sense of comfort settling into her bones that she hadn’t felt in quite a long time.

Not since...ah.

Ella looked up at Cinder, who gave her a knowing smile back. Of course she remembered too.

~0~

It’s only the adrenaline surging through her veins that’s keeping her moving. She just wants to run, run, run, as far and as fast as she can, because if she stops for an instant they’ll catch her and drag her back, but she can’t feel her paws anymore and it’s very quickly not her decision.

The driving rain is already making it hard to see what’s in front of her, but then her vision blurs out completely, and she’s dropped right into a puddle before she even realizes her legs have buckled from underneath her. She doesn’t have the strength even to struggle back to her feet. All she can do is shuffle on her stomach through the mud, inch by miserable inch, until the sore tips of her toes brush rock, leaving behind smears of blood that are quickly washed away.

Her eyes flick upward: less of a cave than a hole in the ground, but she’ll take it. It’s a painful squeeze through an opening that’s just barely bigger than her own body. When she finally manages it, she collapses, lying like a wet pile of fur on the rough stone. Even here’s not really dry — cold runoff drips steadily right into her ear — but she couldn’t move to a better spot even if she tried.

She closes her eyes, the sound of her own labored breathing filling her head. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever get up again, and right now, she doesn’t much care. All that matters is that she’s not moving, that no one can touch her here.

So it takes her a good minute to register the strange scent wafting into her nostrils, underneath the heavy smells of rain and earth: acrid enough to make her nose twitch and fur raise. With a colossal effort, she lifts her head an inch, and finally notices that she is not alone here.

Barely a few feet away, desperately trying to cram herself into the far corner of the cave, is a human not much bigger than her. A little girl, just as skinny and soaked as she is, her amber eyes huge with terror. She wonders what she’s so afraid of — wonders if there’s anything behind her, if she should be afraid too — before realizing.

Oh. This was your hiding place first.

The girl doesn’t seem to have been here long: she’s out of breath, eyes puffy and red, and none of the mud spattering her once-white shirt and pants has dried. She gapes at her for a long moment, before hesitantly scooting forward and reaching out towards her ears.

What ear she has left pricks straight up. She might have intruded on this human, sure, but that doesn’t mean she gets to touch her.

Her hackles raise, her lips pull back, and she snaps at the offending fingers the second she realizes where they’re going. She misses — the girl gasps and scrambles back again, holding her hand protectively to her chest — and her smooth, flat-topped teeth clack painfully together.

“I-I’m sorry!” the girl yelps. “It’s just...you’re hurt.”

She’s fine. So what if her ears and tail had been cut into this awful shape? So what if she’s been robbed of her fangs, and now her claws? She’s still a Pokemon and not some spoiled brat’s toy. Still strong, strong enough to defend herself against one pathetic human.

She growls, but it’s weak even to her own ears. She is strong, it’s either tell herself that or lose hope completely, but she’s running on fumes. If she can’t fight back...if she can’t make them stop touching her...

The girl is doing something puzzling now, and it almost makes her let down her guard. She’s pawing at her shirt as if looking for something, but it doesn’t seem to have any pockets or other affectations. Then after a moment, to her shock, she grabs the one part of it that isn’t filthy, tears a long strip away, then tears that in half with a soft snap.

“Here...” She edges closer, slowing but not quite stopping at her growls. “I — I get it if you don’t want me touching your face. But your paws are bleeding, and...”

She narrows her eyes and keeps her teeth bared in warning: with the combustion pouch in her throat snipped or punctured or even pulled out entirely, whatever they had done to it, a cigarette lighter could produce a bigger flame than she can right now. But she doesn’t have to act like it.

The girl bites back a whimper, the smell of fear still coming off her in waves. “I’m not trying to hurt you, I promise. I just want to help. Please?”

Growls keep bubbling up from her throat, but they’re half-hearted. Against every instinct, she slides her front paws forward. The wounds on her half-amputated toes sting when the scratchy fabric wraps around them, but it’s a small relief to have the bleeding finally staunched.

The girl smiles. “There. Better?”

This close, she can see in the girl’s sunken cheeks and ashen skin how starved she is, spot the jagged outline of a fresh scar around her neck. The faint smell of human blood, not quite covered up by the muck, reaches her nose. Oh. So they really are in the same boat.

She goes quiet, and tries to relax, and is rewarded with the fear-scent steadily receding.

“My name’s Cinder. Do you have a name?”

She heaves a deep sigh in response; she’s never been called anything but mongrel, dumb mutt, dirty animal, and she’s pretty sure those don’t count as names.

“No? I’ll think of one for you, then. Just give me a little bit, I’ve never named anyone befo—aah!”

Thunder shakes what felt like the whole world around them, and they both jump so badly they hit their heads on the painfully low walls. She lets out a whine despite herself, curling tightly in on herself to keep from shaking. Cinder doesn’t look much happier, but instead of recoiling...

“Here...” Cinder mimics her, getting down and snuggling up next to her back on the floor. “I know I’m not very warm, but I should be better than nothing.”

She makes a soft noise of assent. When Cinder slings an arm over her shoulders, hugging her body close and gently petting her flank, it doesn’t exactly make her feel fuzzy on the inside. But it stirs something deep in her chest that she doesn’t have a name for yet, and it’s a welcome distraction from the cold and wet.

“We can stay here until the storm stops. We could figure out where to go together,” Cinder suggests, in a hesitant murmur. “We could be friends.”

Friends. She’s never heard the word before, and isn’t sure what it means, but she wouldn’t mind finding out. She twists her head around and licks Cinder’s cheek, and the girl giggles like she’s never tried to before.

The rain drives down hard and punishing outside, washing away all traces of them. Freezing droplets fall on them from the roof. They’re hungry, dirty, and shivering, with no idea of what they’re supposed to do next. But tonight they’re huddled together, the world outside this cramped little cave does not exist, and for the first time in their lives, they aren’t alone.

~0~

“Dinnertime,” Cinder said, balancing four dishes as she came into the living area. Talonflame stirred and flapped down from his perch to join them as she served the meal: beef stew from the slow cooker for the three of them and warm spiced milk for Cyndaquil.

The baby Pokemon let out her loudest squeak yet and bounced out of Ella’s legs when the dish was set beside her, but stopped short of actually going for it, looking up at them hesitantly.

“Go on. It’s all for you, dear.”

Cinder, sitting cross-legged on the floor with them, smiled as she watched the tiny Pokemon scramble eagerly towards the milk.

“You like it? There’s plenty more where that came from. We’re going to raise you to be big and strong, and one day nobody will dare mistreat you. Right, Ella?”

Ella loyally thumped her tail on the hardwood floor: she knew better than anyone. She knew that she wasn’t the starter Pokemon that every child dreamed about, nor, she conceded, had Cinder begun as the cool and confident Trainer that any Pokemon would want. But still they had fought every day to survive together, to become strong enough that nobody could ever lay a hand on them again.

She had evolved under Cinder’s command, and with evolution the body parts that had been carved away from her when she was young were restored to her. Most importantly, it had given her her fire back, and she knew in her heart that she would never have been able to reach that point on her own.

It was just like Cinder used to say, in the dead of one of their countless nights huddled up together: It’s all right if nobody else loves us. All we need is each other.

That had held steadfastly true for them, from childhood to adulthood. Ella saw no reason why the same could not apply to Cyndaquil, if she herself were magnanimous enough to allow it.

As she gulped down tender chunks of beef, she watched the tiny Pokemon lapping up the milk so earnestly she seemed in danger of falling headfirst into the dish. It had taken Ella a long time to train herself out of scarfing her food down like that, so fast she didn’t even taste it, to be sure that nobody would snatch it away from her now.

Though Toxitricity and Drapion still acted as if they would sometimes, just to get a rise out of her. While she was still small, Cyndaquil would be free to take refuge behind her legs or in Cinder’s arms, but soon Ella would have to teach her how to stand up for herself, and to not roll over for them or anyone else. There were a lot of things the two of them — three, if Talonflame decided to make himself useful — would be responsible for teaching their newest member. She ought to start making a list.

Not that there was much room in her head for that right now. Cyndaquil polished off the milk before the rest of them were halfway finished with their meal, and after licking the dish clean, she looked up and glanced uncertainly around at the three of them.

Now that there was nothing to distract her, it was starting to sink in that she was all by herself, in a strange place surrounded by strange people, with no idea what was going to happen to her next. Ella knew that feeling: the sudden drop in her stomach, the cold spreading like frost over her skin. She remembered. She expected that Cinder did, too.

Her Trainer was watching Cyndaquil intently, and at the first tiny whimper that might have been the prelude to crying, she set her bowl aside and held out her arms.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Want to come here?”

With only slight reluctance, Cyndaquil allowed Cinder to scoop her into her lap. Smiling, she rubbed the tiny Pokemon’s belly with one hand and scratched the back of her neck, just above the incendiary spots, with the other. Cyndaquil let out a series of high-pitched cheeps and squirmed happily in her lap, clearly unused to such affection.

“There, you see?” Cinder cooed, as Cyndaquil twisted around so she could scratch under her chin. “Nothing to be afraid of. This is your home now, with me and your big sister Ella.”

Ella! Ella! Cyndaquil squeaked, delighted. She says we’re sisters!

Ella swallowed a chunk of potato and tilted her head at them. Sister. Another word she would soon be learning to embody.

~0~

The next morning, Ella found her need to pace militarily when impatient at war with her utter disgust of wetness and mud. They had planned a schedule for Cyndaquil’s first full day with them yesterday evening, and it would not do at all to start slacking so soon.

Last night, Cyndaquil had tried to sleep in the corner of the bedroom at first, clearly too used to being shunted out of the way. She had needed plenty of coaxing from Cinder and a commanding bark from Ella to feel safe climbing up onto the bed and letting herself be tucked in between them.

She had slept restlessly, kicking and yelping in her dreams, needing constant soothing to calm down. In the morning Ella had had to drag her exhausted body out from under her blanket, shaking the sleep out of her head. Even Cinder, who had always been a light sleeper anyway, had been rubbing her eyes as Cyndaquil followed her out of the bedroom, bouncing at her heels. Arceus only knew where the little Pokemon had gotten so much energy from.

Ella lifted a paw and shook excess mud from it, her lip curling. Cinder had said that they would only be a minute, it had now been several, and if they didn’t get out here in the next ten seconds she was going to march in there and drag her Trainer out with her teeth—

“Being patient, Ella?”

Ella turned and fixed Cinder with A Look as she watched her coming down the front steps of the cabin, determined not to return her easy smile just yet. She was supposed to have been introducing Cyndaquil to a new Pokeball, but as it happened...

“Yes, I know,” Cinder said, reaching up to steady Cyndaquil as she sprawled happily on her belly, atop her new Trainer’s head. “She does have a new Pokeball now, but I think she likes it better here with us. Right, dear?”

Cyndaquil chirped assent, grinning and swinging her stubby legs.

“You’ll need a proper name soon, too. But training comes first, so watch your sister carefully, now. Ella, if you would?”

Ella gave a firm nod and stepped back, facing the open space in front of the two of them, so Cyndaquil could get a good view of what she was about to demonstrate. The smaller Pokemon, while still idly playing with Cinder’s bangs, was staring transfixed at her. Ella doubted whether she could even muster up an Ember yet, let alone try Flamethrower. Well, then all the better a show for her.

She would never again take for granted how good it felt to flex the muscles in her throat and get her combustion pouch working. It was like taking a gulp of sweet smoke, sparklers lighting just under her skin, as the heat surged up from within her.

Maybe the need to show off to someone younger, which she had never had the chance to do before, gave her some extra fuel: the flames that burst from her mouth burned hotter and stronger than ever, brightening the overcast morning and sending steam hissing up from the puddles before her.

Cinder gave her an approving smirk and some soft applause, but Cyndaquil couldn’t contain herself.

Wow! She took a flying leap off of Cinder’s head and scurried to Ella’s side, mimicking her battle pose. My turn, my turn!

She opened her mouth, throat straining and tail sticking straight out, only to cough up the measliest crumb of flame that Ella had ever seen. It extinguished itself almost as soon as it had been ignited.

Oh, Cyndaquil said plaintively, tail drooping. I...

Ella gave her a nudge with her snout that she hoped was uplifting. Will try again, that’s what you’ll do. As long as it takes. Don’t look so downcast.

“Whatever Ella’s saying to you, she’s right, dear,” Cinder chimed in. “We’re going to become the strongest, but not overnight.”

You do have an advantage. I had to figure this all out on my own. Ella re-assumed her attack position. She would go slower this time, explain the physical aspects of combustion that were innate to all Fire-types, so the little one could better lean in to what felt most natural. You have me to look after you. And when you’re finally ready to be in a real battle, you’ll be far more prepared than the others. Understand?

Cyndaquil nodded very seriously, then mirrored her once more, sparks flying already from her arched back.

Good. Now, watch closely...

#self indulgent pokemon AU is self indulgent #cinder fall #RWBY #pokemon #houndoom #cyndaquil #kaen's fics

30 notes · View notes

linkspooky · 4 years

Note

Why do you like these morally broken characters so much?

Broken characters are more interesting because they have something to fix - by that I mean there’s an obvious reason why we might get invested in their story, and follow them, because we want to see them get better. Characters with more obvious flaws are usually better written, it’s as simple as that. Let’s go over two basic ideas of storytelling.

Character Arc - we choose to follow a certain character because there is something they’re wrong about, or something wrong about them, they have some conflcit that needs to be resolved by the end of the story, usually centering around a character flaw. Flaws are important because they give the character an impetus, a reason to change. Flaws are what get people invested in characters, because they want to see the character do better by the end.

Show don’t tell - there’s a lot of debate of what this storytelling rule means exactly, so I’m going to simplify it. A story is essentially trying to make an argument. A story is trying to persuade you of an idea. An argument is more persuasive when there is evidence behind it. For example you can tell the audience a character is empathic, but going great lengths to show that character practicing empathy will always be more effective storytelling. If I can point to something that happened in story and say this is the character doing the thing then that character has strong characterization.

Shigaraki is a better written character than Deku. He has a character arc, and everything about Shigaraki is shown instead of just told to us. Whereas the story continually tells us that Deku is special, that Deku is a good person, that Deku is empathic but his actions never really support what the story tells us. I’m going to go more into this under the cut.

1. Character Flaw

What is Deku’s character flaw? What is the thing he needs to work on in order to become a better hero. The problem is Deku never has a clear and consistently written character flaw. We as the audience are never told what exactly is holding him back, and what he needs to improve upon in order to become a hero.

Deku’s only real obstacle has been the fact that OFA is an unstable power. The only thing that’s held him back in sitautions is power incontinence, the fact that he has unstable control of his power and therefore will injure himself.

Deku loses the tournament because he can’t control OFA. Deku can’t rescue bakugo in time because he can’t control OFA. Deku fails to defeat Bakugo in his rival battle because he can’t control OFA.

Deku’s failures come from not being able to control his power, and Deku’s successes, when he defeated Chisaki, when he defeated muscle, always come from him using his power.

Except that’s boring. Why? Because it has absolutely nothing to do with Deku himself as a person. Nothing about Deku changes as a character throughout all of this. The only thing that changes is his workout regimen.

The only real thing that has changed about Deku is the number. Oh, he’s gotten the NUMBER to 45%. People cannot be summarized by numbers. People are usually a little more complex than that.

The problem with this is, Deku is given countless oppurtunites to reflect and change something about himself internally. There are conflicts that Deku constantly interacts with. We just never see Deku even think about these problems. There are conflcits in the story. There are problems in society. Deku just isn’t affected by them. Everyone time Deku is asked to think about these things he goes NO THOUGHTS HEAD EMPTY. And that’s just not very interesting. Characters are interesting because they struggle and change as they learn new things about the world, whereas Deku is just perpetually ignorant.

Deku’s characterization comes across as weak because the story just, tells us a lot of things about him, without providing good in text evidence. We are told Deku is empathic. Except he really isn’t?

It starts with Shinso. Deku hears Shinso say something that is something he could sympathize with. Deku was also told he couldn’t become a hero because he was born quirkless. Deku should sympathize with Shinso in this situation and recognize there is something wrong with quirk society.

Deku just doesn’t say anything and doesn’t respond. Even though he has an obvious chance to empathize, he doesn’t. We see another character actually empathize with Shinso later in the story.

Monoma’s speech acknowledges that it’s harder for them to become heroes, because they weren’t born with the HERO SOCIETY APPROVED TM quirks. Monoma’s speech is sympathetic because it acknowledges the difficulty that Shinso has struggled with all along. Deku isn’t ever allowed to see anything wrong with HERO SOCIETY, so he never really sympathizes with its victims. He never demonstrates any empathy where he has to understand somebody who’s circumstances might be different than his, he never has to understand somebody outside of his own feelings.

Even in story, we’re told that Shinso has some kind of special relationship with Midoriya but why? Midoriya never said anything to him. Midoriya never sympathized with him in any special way. The story even goes out of the way to show us that Midoriya just... didn’t say anything even though he understood what Shinso’s feelings were.

This is what I mean by show don’t tell. Shinso and Midoriya’s relationship is something we are told about being special, but I can’t point to anything in text to show that Midoriya did anything special to Shinso. In fact I can point to examples of Monoma being much more sympathetic and actually addressing what’s unfair about Shinso’s situation, and I can even point to characters like Denki being outright friendlier to him. We are told that Deku makes friends easily, and that he’s an empathic person, but we never see him reaching out that way in the story.

And we’re not even told what Deku’s character flaw is. Why does Deku lose in each arc? Ummm....??? Why does Deku fail??? Ummm. The only reason is because he can’t control his quirk.

2. A Flawed Character

I can just point to the text and show you these things about Shigaraki. The problem with Shigaraki in the first arc is he had no real plan, he had no real motive, and he didn’t care what happened to his allies.

No Plan.

No Motive.

No Allies.

These three things are obviously things that are missing from Shigaraki at the start of the story, and his arc is a quest to gain these things. If you notice, every single character explicitly points out how much Shigaraki sucks, like all the time.

Stain won’t work with Shigaraki because Shigaraki doesn’t have any ideals that can convince Shigaraki to work with him. The attempt for Shigaraki to recruit allies fails. This is a problem. Shigaraki fails twice, not only does he fail to get Stain on his side, but he also fails to make someone sympathize with his cause because he can’t reach out to others.

This is something that Shigaraki learns by the camp raid arc. That he needs to gather allies with sympathetic ideals, and he needs to be about some kind of cause otherwise people won’t listen to him.

Shigaraki’s first two fights are spectacular defeats that are very humbling for him, and the reason he fails has entirely to do with these flaws. It’s after this point he starts learning. The first thing is he learns to take advantage of Stain’s publicity to recruit people with similiar ideals to his cause. However, Shigaraki is still flawed going into the next arc. Camp Raid arc, Shigaraki uses the vanguard action squad essentially as disposable pawns. He manipulates them from a distance not taking any actiong himself.

Shigaraki is not a good enough leader at this point. Not only do the flaws in his plan catch up with him (his inability to get Bakugo to sympathize with him, his helplessness when All Might shows up, his overreliance on AFO to bail him out) but he once again suffers a consequence, loses something, and needs to imrpove by the next arc. The Chisaki arc revolves around the camraderie that Shigaraki was lacking in, in the camp raid arc.

It starts with a very specific and precise callout. You have no plan. You misuse the crimminals you have under your thumb, and let go of them too easily. Then, Shigaraki suffers another consequence. Because he is not a good enough leader at managing his people, Magne dies, and Shigaraki is put into a tight position. This all happens because of failings on Shigaraki’s part, the direct result of them, which challenges him to grow and improve.

Shigaraki is a twisted cycle path. However, unlike Deku I can point to the first moment in story where he began to open up with other people and share his feelings.

Why is Twice so loyal to Shigaraki? Because Shigaraki accepted him and his struggles in this movie. THIS IS EVIDENCE. If the author is making the argument that Shigaraki is an empathic character, he has moments where Shigaraki is SHOWN to be empathizing with others.

Shigaraki tells Twice he knows he’s asking him to do something difficult, and that he knows Twice is suffering, but that they’re in this together and he believes they can overcome it. Deku tells Shinso. Nothing. Literally nothing. Just doesn’t even open his mouth. In this case Shigaraki is written as the more empathic character, because Shigaraki actually empathizes with people.

Deku’s writing is so weak because it’s wishy washy. He has no central beliefs his character is written around. He has no strong emotions. And he especially has no flaw. Deku is so wishy washy he’s not even allowed to hold a simple opinion like child abuse might be bad. He’s so malleable that he just tells Todoroki that Enji should be forgiven now, because the writer is TELLING YOU instead of showing you that Enji has improved in his character arc.

Whereas, by the end of the Chisaki Arc we can see the difference in how Shigaraki has changed. He has opened up to the other people around him and now includes them as essential parts in his plan. He’s gone from “I’ll be the next one” to “We’ll be the next one.” He’s gone from hiding at the bar and plotting far away, to fighting on the front lines with his people and even using himself as a distraction so Dabi and Compress won’t be hurt.

The story is constantly trying to tell me what is so special about Deku, but I don’t see it. Because the story doesn’t have any evidence to back up its argument. Wheras, the story doesn’t need to tell me about Shigaraki. The story never tells us Shigaraki is a special boy. It never tells us he’s a good person. It in fact, tells us how much Shigaraki sucks, and needs to get better. In that way, when Shigaraki makes progression it’s clearer because the story is always clear about what he’s missing, what his flaws are, and what he needs to work on.

The Re-Destro arc once again, points out Shigaraki’s shortcomings. He has no real plan for what is coming next. He has no clear motive. He has no way of gathering resources. Because of that, the League has been failing.

Shigaraki reevaluates his origin story. He wants to destroy the oppressive society, the same way he destroyed his father’s house. Once he does that he’s able to tear down the structures of Deika city, and defeat Re-Destro because he realizes what he wants to accomplish.

Shigaraki listened to his allies that they had no resources, and then made his next priority to acquire those. Then, to skip ahead a little bit we have the latest fight Shigaraki is struggling in. Remember, Shigaraki was missing three things in the UA Raid. 1. No Plan, 2. No Motive, 3. No Allies

At the start of the manga, All Might said that Shigaraki couldn’t accomplish anything because he had hollow ideals. Endeavor repeats that accusation.

However, we know that’s not true now. We have seen Shigaraki gain all three things, an ideal to center himself around, allies, and a plan for what he wants to do and accomplish.

This scene, parallels this scene. Except we know now why Shigaraki does the things that he does, that Shigaraki has motivations, that Shigaraki has learned from his experiences.

Shigaraki’s speech has substance now, because we’ve seen the long journey for how he came to acquire these beliefs. Why does Deku want to be the number one hero? Why does Endeavor want to be the number one hero? Neither of those questions are things you can answer by pointing to events that happened in story.

Shigaraki is the result of everything that has happened to him so far, and all of his struggles have taught him a lesson. When he repeats essentially what he said to All Might at the beginning of the arc, this time we know his words have meaning. Shigaraki believes society doesn’t save people, because he’s lived it. He believes that heroes are violent, and contribute to the system of violence, because he was violently abused all his life. Shigaraki believes that society rejects the victims who needs it’s help the most, because Shigaraki has been collecting people like that in the league all of whom dropped out of society through no fault of their own. When Shigaraki makes his arguments, I can point to things that happened in the story that back up his arguments. There is evidence. I can’t do that for Deku, because everything about Deku we are told rather than shown even though he gets three times the amount of screentime.

Deku may be a better person, but who cares about that? Deku and Shigaraki aren’t real people. I don’t have to interact with them. Deku is not my roommate who I have to talk to on a daily basis. This is a work of fiction that is WRITTEN. Shigaraki is better written. That’s why - Shigaraki is a better character.

#Anonymous #izuku midoriya #shigaraki tomura #spooky speaks #metasks

441 notes · View notes

tsukikento · 3 years

Text

Empathetic Chapter 14

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you’re in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family’s past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: I’m glad I was able to get another chapter out before school starts for me. Anyways, please let me know what you guys think! I love hearing your thoughts and feelings on the story!

(masterlist)

You woke up on Sunday with a small pit in your stomach.

It only grew bigger as the day continued.

However, it started small. Just a little bit of nerves for your training sessions today. Except, you did not have much time to think about these anxieties because you woke up to an email from Kobayashi.

You went in yesterday to try on the costume, it fits quite well. You loved the style he was able to encapsulate as well as the functionality it allowed. Once he pinned it in a few places and adjust some things, he bid you farewell.

He said his intern, who was a student at U.A., would make the adjustments that day and be able to give it to you for one more look over in the morning. Additionally, this student would be the person you would be contacting if you ever needed any adjustments.

The email, which also had this student in it, detailed where you two would meet up to do any final adjustments if there was anything after the adjustments made yesterday.

The meeting time was set for 10:00 in the morning and it was currently 7:00, giving you ample time to go on a quick run, shower, and eat something.

Although your morning run was usually an opportunity for you to relax, you ended up feeling more nervous than anything. It was during this run that you were able to finally think about your fight against Bakugou.

You were sure in your abilities and skill with your quirk, enough so that you knew you would be safe. However, you also knew that Bakugou has been waiting for weeks for this rematch. If he won, he would surely gloat. If he lost, he would look like an angry Pomeranian as he demanded another fight.

Additionally, this anger would surely pour-over and affect the fight in a way that could be unsafe.

You felt the pit in your stomach grow just a bit more as you turned up your music and increased your running speed in an attempt to calm down.

By the time you finished running and took a shower, you barely had an appetite. The nerves in your stomach were making the idea of a meal seem disgusting and vile. Despite this, you knew you needed to eat something and forced yourself to drink a protein shake and a piece of toast with jam.

Hopefully not having an empty stomach will help my nerves, you thought as you munched on the toast.

Once the clock inched close enough to 10:00, you made your way to the support team’s school building.

Even though it was the weekend, the building was loud and bustling. Students were running through the halls and rooms with metal in their hands. Cautiously, walked through the building to find a specific room where your new costume designer would be.

Once there, you noticed only one other person in the room.

“Iwasaki Kou-san?” You asked while taking in their outfit and style. Their hair was straight, with some strands falling in front of their face. The rest was pulled back into a white hair tie. The dark color of his hair had hints of blue throughout when hit by the light correctly. With that in mind, it was difficult to identify the hair as one solid shade. However, the most noticeable things about him were his deep eyes and thick eyebrows that made him stand out despite no one else being there.

He was nowhere near as fit as the heroes you surrounded yourself with. However, the black t-shirt he had on shaped his form in a quite flattering way.

You stopped your eyes from wandering lower and you instead looked at his surroundings. He was currently tinkering with something, but you weren’t quite sure what it was. On a mannequin behind him was your hero costume, laying limply across the much too small body.

“Yeah,” He casually replied, the smile forming on his lips was kind, inviting, and yet held a mysteriousness that you couldn’t decipher. “Are you Y/L/N-san?” His voice was soft.

You gulped down and nodded, stepping further into the room.

“Perfect,” He took off the thick gloves that covered your hands and wiped the soot off them with a white cloth he kept tucked into his pants. He then held out his now clean hand to shake your own.

You gently took his own, his calloused hands sending shivers up your spine.

Why do I feel so calm and yet so nervous? You questioned as you forced yourself to smile.

“Shall we get started?” He asked.

“Sure!” You excitedly agreed.

Iwasaki immediately moved to the mannequin and unzipped your uniform. Gently, he handed you the fabric. “You can go into that room there to change,” He explained, pointing to a door on the other side of the classroom. “I’ll pull out all the extra items while you change.

You entered the small room to see that it looked quite like a typical changing room. A small ledge to sit on or hold items, a body-length mirror, and a few hooks to hold items.

The tight bodysuit was a deep blue that looked almost black. Sort of like Kou’s hair, you thought as you pulled it on. Throughout the suit were detailed of neon yellow. As Kobayashi explained to you before, the details were the only stylist and were a way to incorporate your family’s colors without being too cheesy. The arms of the suit stopped just after your shoulder to allow for mobility. The legs, additionally, stopped quickly. You had a small metal waist set that could hold swords and expand to protect vital organs. Your pants stopped midthigh.

You remember specifically telling Kobayashi-san that you wanted skin exposed so you could use your quirk when people touch you, without having a hard to manage skirt.

Once you zipped up your suit, you made your way back into the main classroom.

Iwasaki smiled at you once he saw you.

He was currently surrounded by a variety of dark blues and neon yellows that stood out at all your support items.

He handed you the boots to your suit first.

“I tinkered with the boots a bit, but you shouldn’t notice much difference,” Iwasaki explained. “I was just trying to make them lighter.”

You nodded and you took your time to attach them. The boots stopped under your calf, but straps ran up your leg to attach to a knee cap.

“I’m sure Kobayashi-sensei told you, but the straps are to help prevent injuries from any awkward movements or excessive running. The boots and straps will help you to run faster, but it won’t be by too much so you can get used to the boost. If you want, you can also attach weights to them while you train so that you move faster in the field with the weights off.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Oh and the blade feature on your other boots is the same with these.”

You silently nodded, much too focused on putting everything on correctly.

You then attached the compact shoulder pads to your costume.

You the attached metal cuffs to your wrist that you also assembled to help prevent injuries on your hands or arms. It would also help add weight and power to any punches you would have to throw.

Last but certainly not least were your ear and eye protectors.

Kobayashi brilliantly designed your ear attachments with three different functions. When needed, you could use the ear attachments like your earbuds and prevent you from hearing thoughts. The second function was to increase your hearing distance. Although he was unable to increase your hearing distance for thoughts, he was able to help even out the differences. Now you could hear people from as far as 100 ft without needing to take out the earbuds that help prevent you from hearing thoughts. You were also able to zero in on certain sounds if needed. The final function was a simple Bluetooth addition in case you needed to communicate with other heroes on the field.

“Your ear attachments are cool, but I’m really excited to make them better for you,” Kou smiled calmly and brightly at you. “I want to make them perfect because half of your quirk is so based around your ears.”

Appreciatively, you smiled at the boy. “That’s very nice, thank you.”

Iwasaki sheepishly waved you off, “It’s my pleasure! I became a support student for a reason. If I’m able to figure anything out, I might even make it my final analysis and creation project.”

“Are you a third-year?” You asked.

“Yeah,” The boy blushed lightly and scratched at the back of his head, “I am.”

You simply nodded before attaching the shield to your earpiece that protected your eyes.

You then moved over to look at yourself in the full-body mirror.

I look amazing.

“You like it?” Iwasaki asked, interrupting yourself from going on an analytical tangent for each piece of the costume.

“I love it,” You explained, smiling brightly at yourself.

“I’m glad,” He paused briefly. “I saw your original sketches and I was worried you would hate it. Kobayashi-sensei didn’t tell me how much you two collaborated together, so I didn’t know.

You nodded as you looked at the dark black dots on your left shoulder pad. It wasn’t too noticeable from far away, but you could see it up close against the dark blue.

“Yeah,” You started, “He basically lectured me in a face call and told me I needed to think more about my quirk and what would be best for me, rather than what I thought was cool.” You thought over your next words carefully, “I’m still glad a have a place for my swords. And I have my own black shoulder strap for my biggest sword.”

“Thanks,” Kou said, “I actually thought of the metal sword holder and shield expansion feature.”

“Really?” You inquired.

“Yeah,” He ensured, a smile brightening up his face. “But you should also show me the shoulder strap. Maybe I can make it better or make a new one that will help with weight and comfort.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“You seem to keep forgetting this is literally my job,” He laughed. It sounded beautiful. “My third year is all about helping students and only asking my professors or intern leader for help when I need it.”

You nodded in understanding before adding. “Maybe I will. I’ll make sure to email you about it.”

“Of course,” Kou agreed. “And do you have any other adjustments you want now?”

“No, not really,” You explained, a bright smile plastered across your face.

“Then I guess you are all set if you want to change back,” Iwasaki spoke while slipping on his gloves again.

“Perfect, I’ll be right back then.” You grabbed your suitcase and went back into the small changing room to take off all your support items and costume. When done, you stepped back out, bid Kou a farewell, and left.

You walked back to the dorm with your suitcase, a little bit happier than you expected. The costume fit perfectly at this point, and you were excited to move forward with OOO in all other possible upgrades you could make. Although it wasn’t what you initially envisioned and sketched out when you first met Kobayashi, all the changes he made, with your approval, made the costume much better and more modern.

You reminisced about your first meeting with the designer, where he asked you what kind of hero you wanted to be, a sentiment that OOO was clearly upholding.

After discovery and debate, the new costume that was drawn up fit you much better than you could expect.

It wasn’t until you got back to the dorm that the pit in your stomach reared its ugly head.

The first thing you saw when you opened the large door was a sleepy Bakugou, clearly just woken up.

He was yawning, a small cup of coffee in his hands, and his hair seemed to be more of a mess than usual.

Once he opened his eyes again, he immediately found your own eyes. Although the living room and dining table were crowded with about five other people, he immediately made his way to you.

“You got your hero costume?” He asked. There wasn’t any malicious tinge to his voice, but the gruff sound of his natural voice mixed with the deepness from just waking up made your stomach queasy.

You had half a mind to just run into the bathroom and make yourself puke. However, you swallowed your nerves and nodded, hoping you didn’t look like too much of a fool.

“Maybe we should wear our costumes for our training today,” He smirked at your before eyeing your suitcase that had the number 21 printed on it. “I have a few support items I would love to try out on you.”

The idea sent a shiver up your spine, something that wouldn’t normally happen. Bakugou makes me way too nervous, you thought as you debated over what to make next. In hope of lightening up to conversation a little bit, you asked, “Oh, did Iwasaki make new support items for you too?”

“Iwasaki?” Bakugou spat back, obviously offended. “Not only would I never let that weirdo touch my equipment, but I’m also offended you didn’t realize I made them myself.”

“Iwasaki isn’t weird,” You countered, practically laughing. “He was so nice!”

Bakugou scoffed and looked away from you. “Whatever, I would just rather tinker with my own shit than have him do it. He seems too perfect, that smile of his is so weird.”

Despite still being nervous about the fight, you found yourself laughing at Bakugou’s explanation. “Too perfect?” You spoke in-between laughs. “You really can be funny sometimes, Bakugou—”

You stopped yourself from using an honorific. Not sure if he would prefer a more formal ‘san’ or a friendlier ‘kun’.

Although he clearly noticed your pause and debate on which one to use, he simply glossed over it and replied with an “I am not funny! I am being serious!” The blond groaned in frustration before adding. “You know what? Let’s wear our costumes, and we will actually see how well Iwa-shitty did.”

“Iwasaki barely did anything to my costume,” You reasoned, “He only adjusted a few things, the work is still mostly Kobayashi-san’s.”

“Whatever,” He gruffly replied, “Just bring your damn suitcase so we can change in the lockers beforehand.”

“Whatever your say, Bakugou,” You replied, quietly laughing to yourself at his small and childish fit.

The blond walked away from you without another word, leaving you by yourself with some free time.

The first thing you did was make your way to the kitchen to prepare yourself something to eat. Since it was approaching lunchtime anyway, Iida and Uraraka we currently preparing themselves some food.

“No internship today?” You asked them, remembering seeing each of them go out to internships before.

“Nope!” Uraraka gingerly explained, “We aren’t allowed to have internships on Saturday and Sunday because they want us to have enough time for school.”

“Today is our day off,” Iida added as you watched him mix something in a small, Styrofoam container.

When you got closer, a rank and vile smelled filled your nose. You immediately knew it was coming from the container and backed up while covering your nose.

You had no intention to insult their food preferences, especially because you weren’t from here, but Uraraka immediately noticed your reaction and laughed.

“You’ve never seen natto?” She asked.

You shook your head, not wanting to speak in fear that you would get a bigger sniff of the food.

Iida looked back to see your face. “Sorry,” He spoke.

“No! Don’t worry!” You replied, wanting to be as nice as you could.

Uraraka laughed again. “Natto is fermented soybeans. It might smell weird and the texture is slimy, but it tastes so good in rice, especially with mustard and fish sauce.”

You nodded while peaking over to get a look at the slimy brown beans.

“Do you want to try it?” Iida asked you, turning so you could see his portion of rice and beans.

“Umm,” You mumbled, not sure what to say. You didn’t want to take his food, and you definitely didn’t know if you would like it.

“You should,” Uraraka encouraged. “We can give you just a bit to taste.” She pulled out a bowl from the cabinet and scooped a little of her portion into the bowl. “Even if you don’t like it, you’ll have to get used to it. It’s a cheap, easy, and healthy meal so everyone here eats it often.”

Hesitantly, you grabbed the small bowl and chopsticks she offered you.

“Don’t smell it, “Iida began “Just eat it.”

Listening to Iida, you stopped yourself from smelling the bowl and shoved it into your mouth. Despite 80% of the dish being rice only, the flavor of the natto was most prevalent. You chewed quickly, not sure if it was the type of dish to savor.

You closed your eyes, swallowed the bite, and looked back to your two classmates.

“It looked like you hated it,” Uraraka laughed while munching on her own bowl.

“No,” You countered, “It’s okay. I’m just not used to it.” You got the rest of the rice and bean in-between your chopsticks and finished your bowl. “Thank you for letting my try.”

“No problem,” Iida and Uraraka replied together before they took their leave from the kitchen to seat at the large dining table.

You then scoured the fridge and cupboards for a suitable lunch and settled on fried rice leftovers from dinner the night before. You heated up a bowl and took it upstairs to eat.

Time passed slowly as you worked on homework and had videos playing in the background. Eventually, then the clock read 10 to 3:00pm, you got up from your seat and changed into comfortable workout clothes. You grabbed your suitcase, a large water container, and two different swords before making your way downstairs.

When you got to the front door, Bakugou was already waiting, dressed in comfortable workout clothes. His own suitcase was in his hand as well as two large looking grenades and water.

You didn’t bother even asking what the grenades were for as Bakugou simply waited for you to slip on other shoes.

You followed Bakugou out the door silently. “We’ll start with stretches and then change into our costumes,” Bakugou explained. “I rented out a fourth of the cityscape so we will have plenty of room to move around.”

“Okay,” You replied, “Although I might need some time to warm up with my hero costume because it just got finished today.”

“It can’t be that different, can it?” Bakugou inquired.

“It’s completely different, “You explained. “My older hero uniform was so ugly; it didn’t help my quirk at all and just matched with my family’s theme.”

“Your family has a theme?” He questioned while barking out a laugh. “That’s so cringy.”

“Yeah,” You mumbled, “But it is important to my mom and common in the United States.”

Bakugou simply hummed in response and he brought you to a small field. It was right next to the building that held changing rooms, making it ideal for your short warm-up.

“Do you want to warm up together?” You asked him.

“It’s up to you,” Bakugou replied before setting down his things and beginning his warm-up. It mainly consisted of basic stretches every person typically does.

Following his lead, you dropped your belongings to the side and moved to take off your earbuds.

“You’re taking them off now,” Bakugou asked.

You turned to see him looking at you and replied, “Yeah, is that a problem?”

“Uhh,” Bakugou fumbled, “No, I guess not.”

Ignoring his weird comment, you simply put away the earbuds. I’ll just hear any weird thoughts he has anyway.

What first filled your mind, however, was Bakugou thinking:

Don’t think weird thoughts, don’t think weird thoughts.

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his thoughts which immediately drew his attention.

“What?” He spat out.

“Nothing,” You replied after your laughter died down. I don’t need to tell him about how weird he is being, you told yourself and you began your own stretch routine.

You also needed to warm up your quirk, something you did by focusing on different thoughts around you. Because Bakugou was so close to you, his thoughts we most noticeable. However, it was important to see how far you could take your quirk, so you focused as best your could on different thoughts from people different distances away.

Eventually, when your body felt nice and stretched, you wanted to move on to a jog. After letting Bakugou know, you jogged a few laps around the field while he sprinted to build up a sweat.

Once ready, you made your way into the changing rooms with all your belongings. Bakugou followed shortly behind you.

The second you put it on, you could feel the differences in your hero costume. You felt lighter despite having more on. You took a small lap around the locker room to test your speed. You then tested your earpieces that covered your ears completely. Once satisfied, you attached a dagger to the metal plate around your waist. You brought your largest and heaviest sword today. First, to test out how it works with your costume so you could bring it to Kou with any needed adjustments, and two, to intimidate Bakugou.

No one in your class yet had seen your work with knives, daggers, and swords, making it a surprising advantage if need be. You took another moment to stretch in your hero uniform before exiting the room and meeting back up with Bakugou who was facing away from you and stretching.

Immediately, your eyes found him and stared at his hero costume. It was mainly black, with touches of orange and green. From the first view, it was scary. However, you noticed intricate pieces that made it seem detailed and well thought out. However, what was most interesting to you was how it fit on him.

You would hit yourself if you weren’t so distracted ogling his free arms. They looked much bigger than you had ever seen on him. And yet, they also seemed like the perfect size. He must do a lot of weightlifting, you thought as your eyes then traveled to his waist. It was covered in black cloth, making it impossible to see his abs, but his thin waist was enough to see.

He looks so hot, your thoughts. You were unable to place every piece of his hero costume that made him this attractive, but his arms and waist were the main ones. You gulped down the lump in your throat as you watched him bend over to touch his toes

“Holy shit,” You accidentally spoke aloud.

Immediately, the blond shot up and turned to look at you. “What did you s—?” He began to question before stopping halfway through.

Holy shit, his thoughts similarly echoed yours.

You looked down, very aware that your cheeks were flaring a deep red. Although it definitely boosted your ego to hear him react to your costume like that, it sent waves of anxiety through you. He knows I can hear his thoughts. Why isn’t he stopping himself, you questioned as he thoughtfully admired the way your leg straps hugged your bare thighs.

“Are you ready?” You asked, breaking the thick silence, and hoping to distract him.

You weren’t sure how to feel. On one hand, it felt amazing to hear his thoughts. It was clear he found you attractive. However, that did not mean he liked you as more than a friend, classmate, or whatever he actually thought. You nervously shuffled from one foot to the other and Bakugou shook his head.

You fucking creep, he thought.

“Yeah,” He mumbled. His voice was raspy, and he immediately grabbed his water from the ground and chugged a good portion. He then picked up all his items and you silently followed him to the cityscape.

Both of you were stuck in your own thoughts. You debated whether or not this situation was a good thing or a bad thing. I’ll definitely have to talk to Ashido and Hagakure later. And Bakugou was currently wondering over if you heard him.

What are those things are her ears? Can she hear me with them? Maybe she can’t… I could ask her what they are. No, that’s too obvious!

“So,” You eventually began after Bakugou signed in on a sheet of paper that hung at the entrance of the cityscape. “Are you wanting to do a ruled match? Or are you wanting to do a bad guy versus good guy things?” You were trying to break the awkward silence, hoping that fighting would distract you both from the nerves you were feeling.

“A match,” He simply replied. His voice wavered more than it typically would, however, it evened out more and more as he continued to talk. “It will end when the other person admits defeat or is too injured to play.”

“Oof, that sounds intense,” You jokingly replied. You needed to give this match your all. Bakugou was a competitor and should be treated as a stepping stone for you to improve your quirk usage. Hopefully, Bakugou's thoughts and actions were slow enough for you to interpret and prevent them. That would be the key factor in who won today.

Bakugou laughed in response. The typical bark of a laugh that you had become too quickly acquainted to. “Yeah, well you better be ready.”

You two took your time making it to your designated area and choosing a spot to store your suitcases and waters. Once done, Bakugou put on the grenades he had been carrying onto his forearms.

“What do those do?” You innocently asked.

“I’m not telling you, they’re a surprise for later.”

Similarly, to how Bakugou would, you scoffed at his reply. “That was so cringy,” You added.

In response, Bakugou rolled his eyes and let out a simple, “Whatever.”

You genuinely smiled while you watch him finish securing the large grenades to his forearms.

I wonder what his first attacks will be, you thought. Those grenades can’t be his first attack. It must be something that builds up energy. Smirking, you thought of a way to make his motives clear.

“What’s your first attack against me going to be?” You asked him.

The blond whipped his head around and looked at you with squinted eyes. “Like I would ever tell you.” Don’t think about how you plan to worsen her hearing, you heard him think.

You tried your best not to react to him revealing his thoughts and simply frowned. “I guess it was worth a try.”

Bakugou didn’t bother replying and simply faced you. “Ready?” He asked as he cracked his knuckles and neck.

You simply shrugged, trying your best to look casual. I need to get away from him before he can explode out my eardrums. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” You nonchalantly responded.

You waited for a beat, just enough time to move before Bakugou. Luckily, the straps on your legs helped greatly to increase your speed. It made you feel lighter and helped smooth out your movements enough to save a decent amount of time. You were out of Bakugou’s eyesight in a flash, leaving him baffled. She’s faster than I remember. By the time he recovered enough to chase after you, you had turn multiple corners and climbed up a fire escape attached to one of the skyscrapers.

Bakugou launched himself into the sky to move faster He was clearly looking to attack quickly instead of surprise you. You used the sharp and retractable blades attached to your shoes to smash a window, timing the shattering glass sounds to the sound of his explosions.

You moved into the building, hoping he would be unable to see the shattered glass with him moving so quickly. Inside the building, you drew your dagger, just in case he found you. I’ll throw it at him if need be, you thought and you began moving higher and higher up the floors.

As Bakugou soared through the sky, he found himself analyzing the ground more than anything else. After searching a decent distance, he realized something must be off. She can’t be on the ground if I can see her from here, you hear him think. He then landed on one of the taller buildings and looked around.

I didn’t see any climbing materials on her costume unless those straps are detachable? Bakugou thought over each piece of your costume, noting whether or not they could be used to climb up buildings. He began jumping from building to building, looking for a signal.

And that’s when he saw it.

Shattered glass on the grated ground of a fire escape, teetering from side to side as if recently moved and threatening to fall a floor below.

Excitedly, Bakugou pounced on the building and peered into the room. She isn’t on this floor anymore, he noted while debating to go down or up. I’ll find you soon, he thought as he searched below first. It took him approximately 10 seconds to realize you didn’t move lower down the building. He quickly moved higher and higher, searching through the windows on each floor in hopes of seeing a flash of dark blue and yellow.

She must be on the staircase, he thought after being unable to find you. That’s the only place without windows, he reasoned before debating whether to move into the staircase himself or go to the roof where he presumed you were going to be.

His thoughts were clear to you and did not affect your plan in the slightest. With ease, you made your way to the roof. You didn’t want to tire yourself out too much. You opened the clunky door only to be hit with a gust of wind. This school must be rich to be able to simulate gusts of wind, you thought as you spotted the large fans that were scattered across the walls of this cityscape.

You perched yourself on the metal box that was warm enough to help against the wind.

Now it is just a waiting game, you thought as you simply listened to Bakugou’s thoughts.

Eventually, and predictably, he showed up through the same door you came into. You had positioned yourself behind where he would show up so he initially didn’t see you.

Quietly, you looked around the small building and watched as he peered across the sky.

There’s no way she could have gotten off from here unless she climbed down.

You put away your dagger and de-sheathed your large sword. It was chunky and sharp with a wide and heavy handle to keep it sturdy. Before Bakugou could turn or hear you, you pushed forward and kicked the blond with the bottom of your heavy boot.

He stumbled but did not fall to the floor. You held up your sword, using it to extend your arm. As soon as Bakugou turned to look at you, his neck was greeted by the sharp sword only inches away. He didn’t move for a moment, but quickly recovered and sent a blast your way. Now within a small distance, he sent off multiple small explosions. Not only did you cower to get away from his explosion, but the small explosions made it difficult to hear his thoughts.

You pushed forward despite your nerves to the boy and used the flat edge of your sword to hit him. Not sharp enough to harm him, but still a force to be reckoned with. Additionally, the thin sharp edge that was intended for use may seep in enough from the pressure to give him a small cut.

He shot back instantly, and a small amount of blood dripped from his arm. He was breathing heavily, as were you. Although he was not attacking in this moment, he still set off explosions to impede upon your quirk. You didn’t know Bakugou’s fighting style well, but you knew enough. From what you were able to pick up, you knew he intended to go for hand-to-hand combat.

Idiot, you thought while widening your stance and bending at the kneed to prepare yourself. The 50-foot distance between the two of you closed quickly as he pounced on you. Smoothly, you were able to dodge and keep a good distance with your sword and sharp blades on your shoes.

“You really should listen to my mom’s defensive lectures,” You commented. “Playing an offensive role will only get you so far.” You mocked him, watching his eyebrows turn down in anger and his thoughts rush with the idea of just fucking hit her.

You moved out of the way for each of his attacks, only feeling the heat of an explosion or the brush of his fingertips.

When the time was right, you held your sword with only one hand and pushed forward to grab onto his arm. You twisted it before he could react to make sure he could not send an explosion your way. Currently, you were positioned so your right hand held onto his left forearm. His body was twisted so his back was to your right shoulder. The blond twisted his head to look at you and continued to send off explosions to hopefully distract you.

With every explosion, you felt a pulse through his veins, and you held tightly. He groaned in pain at the action, making you realize that his wrist was a weak spot for him. “Oh, so do you have these protect your forearms and wrists?” You asked, gesturing to the large grenades.

His emotions and thoughts made his arms clear. Not just that, you idiot.

“I am not an idiot,” You replied, feigning offense.

Bakugou scoffed in reply and you laughed back at him.

“I’m winning right now, you know?” You spat back, “I wouldn’t scoff at me when I could end this battle right here.”

“Oh yeah?” Bakugou encouraged, “How?”

“Like this…sleep.” You immediately put him to sleep, something he wasn’t expected. You could tell from his thoughts that he wasn’t thinking much about this part of your quirk. Once asleep, you thought over what to do next.

You dragged his heavy body to the edge of the building, wondering if he would wake up in time to save himself if you threw him off.

I don’t think I should risk it, you thought.

Sighing, you pulled him away from the roof, pushed him farther into sleep and let go. You sat down on the ledge and waited a few minutes for the blond to wake up. You pat yourself on the back for getting him to sleep for so long and casually waited for the time to end.

It took a total of 15 minutes for the blond to finally beginning rising. Another minute for him to realize where he was. He looked up at you with a quizzical face.

“If this wasn’t training and you were a real villain, I would have thrown you off this building,” You explained. “I think I win.”

“Like hell you do,” Bakugou groggily replied while getting up. He moved into a fighting stance and you stayed put. “Are you going to get up?” He yelled at you.

You hummed, debating what to do next. “I don’t feel like it,” You replied, knowing full well how much it would irritate him.

“Then I’ll send you off the roof with an explosion,” He spat back.

“No,” You calmly replied, “I don’t think you will.”

“And why is that?” He asked.

You smirked at the boy. “Because,” You began while letting go of the ledge with your hands and leaning back, “Of this.” Once you finished those words, your body fell back and off the building. You positioned your body as safely as you could.

Obviously, this was a dangerous tactic. It was something you would never do in the field. However, you needed to have fun every now and then and Bakugou was so easy to tease. You knew he had a fast enough reaction time to get you. That was proved correct when you saw his body shoot off the side of the building.

Explosion after explosion was set off until you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist.

You looked down and saw you were about 10 feet to the ground. Bakugou reached out and grabbed onto a fire escape. “Jump down,” Bakugou spoke, his voice low.

His arm slipped away from you as you prepared yourself to fall to the ground. Your shoes, which could absorb shock, helped to make the jump easy and comfortable. Bakugou followed you, dropping a few feet away.

You stood silently as the blond stared at you before practically running up to you.

“What is wrong with you?” He demanded while holding onto your arms and shaking you.

Because of the large gloves on his hands, you weren’t able to feel his emotions. However, you were fairly certain he was worried.

You felt bad.

You felt really bad.

His eyes held more worry than you had seen from him and his thoughts had been rushing so much during these past thirty seconds that it gave you a headache. You were sure he had one too.

“I’m sorry,” You bashfully replied. “I wanted to shock you.”

“Yeah, well you did that perfectly,” He replied. He groaned while looking over your body, wanting to see if you got hurt.

“I’m not hurt,” You mumbled, pulling away from him because of how nervous his staring made you feel.

He reluctantly let go of you and let you step away.

“I didn’t mean to worry you so much,” You commented, stopping there because you weren’t sure whether or not to say sorry. That might be too far, you thought.

Bakugou stiffened immediately. It was clear those words made him nervous.

Worry? You heard him think. Fuck, I am worried. I shouldn’t be worried. I shouldn’t be worried. But I am.

Bakugou scoffed, “I have to worry for stupid idiots like you.” Why am I so worried about her? I wouldn’t be this worried about anyone else.

You simply nodded, not wanting to remind him that you could hear his thoughts. “So,” You began after a short pause, “Are we done for today?”

“After the heart attack you gave me today?” He rhetorically questioned, “Yeah, we are done for today.”

Once again, you nodded and followed Bakugou as he began walking to where you left your bags.

“Next time,” He began as your items came into sight, “Let’s just rent out part of the gym and work on hand-to-hand combat. That way,” He turned to look at you, “You can’t pull any dumb tricks.” He paused for a moment, “Also so you don’t fucking cut me with your sword again.”

“Oh!” You exclaimed, moving closer to the blond to look at his cut. “I forgot!”

Once you got to your item, you opened your suitcase and pulled out rubbing alcohol, a couple of band aids, and a Japanese brand for Neosporin.

“Here,” You began, showing the small first aid kit, “Let me clean it.”

Bakugou reluctantly sat down and allowed you to scoot close to him. You rinsed your hands off by pouring some of your water onto them before grabbing a cotton ball and also putting water onto it. You used the wet cotton ball to clean the blood around the cut, some of it was already dry. You then took another cotton ball and put a small amount of alcohol onto it.

Carefully, you ran the cotton ball over the small cut on his arm. Bakugou took a sharp breath in because of the stinging but stayed still as you cleaned it. You pulled it away and looked up at the blond. Your hands had been holding your arm still, allowing you to feel just how nervous he was.

Unfortunately, because of your quirk, you felt the exact same feelings as him. You tried your best to resist any obvious reactions and let go of his arm, so you were no longer being bombarded with nervousness.

When you looked up at him, you saw pink on his cheeks, and you weren’t sure if it was from the training or the anxiety he felt as you took care of him. Additionally, you were fairly certain you also had a blush because of your empathetic abilities. He looked into your eyes for a moment before you tore your own away and went to grab the ointment.

Cautiously, you spread a small amount onto the cut. You then took a few band-aids and spread them across his arms to cover the wound.

“Thanks,” Bakugou quietly spoke once you finished and started putting away the items.

“No problem,” You simply replied before grabbing your water and taking a swig.

Silently, the two of you grabbed your things and made your way to the lockers. The school provided showers in the locker room and well as all the necessary toiletries to help prevent kids from easily stinking up their dorms. Considering your run today and all the hard work you did, you decided a shower before going back to the dorms would be best.

“You don’t have to wait up for me,” You spoke as you two arrived at the lockers. “I’m going to shower.”

Bakugou hummed in response and entered his respective room. You casually and efficiently changed, washed your body, and put on your workout clothes again. They weren’t smelly from only stretching so it wasn’t bad to wear them.

You pushed your dry hair back, put in your earbuds, and grabbed all your things to make your way out of the locker room.

When you exited, you immediately saw Bakugou, who was leaning against a rail on his phone. His items were placed next to him and his left hand was shoved into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Took you long enough,” He mumbled while looking at you. “You didn’t even wash your hair, what took you forever?”

“I told you not to wait for me,” You replied, “It is your fault for waiting.”

Bakugou scoffed and grabbed his things. “Whatever,” He mumbled before beginning to walk back to the dorms. “I wanted to talk to you about dinner tomorrow,” He explained, “And I didn’t want to text your later.”

“Wow,” You replied in a dry voice, “You sure do know how to make someone feel special.”

“Shut up idiot,” He spat back. You could once again see pink on his cheeks but chose to ignore it. “Anyways,” He began again, “Meet me in the kitchen at four. Sero will be there at five. I want to see how well you can cook.”

“What are we making?” You asked.

“Rice with umeboshi, miso soup, salad, some other shit,” Bakugou replied. “It’s a lot. I know in America that dishes aren’t broken up as much so I will show you everything tomorrow.”

You nodded, “Thanks. I appreciate you trying to help teach me.”

“Yeah, well I will kick you out just as fast if you suck,” He replied.

You looked to Bakugou and saw the teasing smirk on his face. You laughed at his comment which was soon followed by a few snickers from the blond himself.

By the time you and Bakugou arrived home, the conversation died down. Silently, the two of you filled up your waters and walked upstairs to your respective rooms.

“See ya,” Bakugou lazily spoke before heading into his own room and leaving you to yourself.

125 notes · View notes

giftofwonder · 3 years

Text

The Tomb (Dabi x f!Reader) - Part Two

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all of the love and support! If you’d like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

WARNINGS: Slightly NSFW, Contains mentions of nudity, abuse, and brief foreplay.

TAGLIST: @mikasackrmann @missalicebaskerville @liitlesushi @bonemarroww @jamaisvusbitch @winchescumberholland @mira-mirach

You both left and walked through the city toward the large bath house. You stopped by small stands to grab fruit and fish for breakfast, and then continued on your way. The stares you had gotten yesterday were gone, but they still lingered on Dabi.

You took in the shift in structures. Where Dabi lived, the houses were smaller and plain. Many of them suffered from a bit of damage, the mud bricks crumbling over time. Now you had entered a much different part of the city. The buildings were large, the bricks of the houses were in much better condition and stained white. The homes had wooden doors instead of just hanging reed mats. You knew if you went inside, you would find beautiful pictures painted along the walls and ceiling in a wide array of colors.

Finally, you reached the bathhouse and entered, and it was absolutely beautiful. High ceilings painted in vibrant colors that put you in mind of a stained glass window, tall limestone pillars, and everything was lined with golden trim. When you imagined paradise, this was what came to mind. It came as no surprise that many people were inside to enjoy the bath.

You knew a lot from this era, the history, but it was still a bit of a culture shock to experience it for yourself first hand. Especially, in this specific case. Men and women were considered equals here, which you loved. Nudity was common and sex was not really a taboo. Really, the only prominent known things were they believed in consent and valued loyalty above all else. Beyond that, there wasn’t much information. Many researchers had offered that because the ancients views were so open, they just never thought it important enough to document. The restrictive world you came from was so different. Sure, some people and places had more open views, but overall there were usually unspoken rules of how to conduct yourself. What is deemed “inappropriate” is a long list.

It really was exciting to be in this time, to see the past and be able to live within it, but your mind was a constant reminder that you were not from here. That this was not your home.

You both undressed, and you tried to hide the shaking of your hands as you did, but Dabi noticed your trembling. He took your hand gently and led you toward the bath. He didn’t look at you, and that made you feel a bit more at ease.

The water felt nice, and you relaxed into it immediately. You smiled, wetting your hair.

Dabi handed you soaps to use, which you graciously accepted. You had regretted not being able to bathe last night, wishing you could have rinsed the sand and dirt from your skin before going to bed. You knew bathing was especially important during this time, the ancients believed the cleaner you were, the closer you were to the Gods.

You kept your body low in the water as you washed your hair and skin, humming in joy at the feeling of being clean once more. You felt warm hands on you and looked over your shoulder. Dabi stood behind you, his eyes trailing across the plains of your back. His hands massaging as they rubbed the lathered soap onto you, his fingers working out knots and kinks from around your shoulders. You figured his actions were meant to give you peace of mind in a situation you were obviously uncomfortable in, but for a brief moment, his touch had you more worried about the downfalls of falling in love with a spirit.

This was something that you could definitely get used to. You were sure that you could sit there forever and not be bothered in the slightest. Your eyes fell shut as you relaxed in his hold, all of your previous tension and discomfort now gone. His hands moved from your shoulders to your neck and down your spine. He kneeled as his hands caressed along your ribs and slid under the water to your stomach. Then they slid further, grabbing along your thighs, and pulling back just enough to grip your hips. He tugged you backwards against him, your back flush to his chest.

Your eyes opened at the feeling. The bathhouse had emptied quite a bit since Dabi had entered, no doubt his presence and their evident discomfort from him being the reason, but there were still people bathing here and there.

“Stop, someone could see!” You hissed out while trying to pull forward to put some distance between you, but his hands kept you in place.

He leaned forward, dipping his mouth to your ear.

“Who cares, let them look.” And then his lips latched just below your ear, and his hand moved between your thighs. The breathy moan you let out at the sudden contact only spurred him on.

Your head leaned to the side and your hand braced on his wrist, ready to pull him away at any moment, but you didn’t.

You had dedicated your life to your work, and in doing so, you had missed out on a lot of the romantic opportunities that many of your friends had gotten to experience. You had boyfriends back in school, sure, but relationships were a sore spot for you as you had made your career your top priority.

You traveled often, you were gone for long stretches of time. Anything more than a quick fling was pretty much off of the table. Being held, being touched like this, it was new. It was nice. You couldn’t find it in yourself to turn him away, because truly you were craving the intimacy that he was offering.

Your breathing was ragged and more moans fell from your lips. Dabi’s teeth and lips brushed across your neck, leaving a trail of heat on your flushed skin behind them.

“Touch me.” He whispered against your skin, and slowly your hand reached behind you to grasp him. He let out a low groan against you as your hand moved on its own accord. Your mind was too lost to pleasure to stop yourself.

Dabi pulled your hand away and removed his fingers from you. He lifted you slightly to guide you over him, but you quickly twisted around and put your hand on his chest to stop him, the action of him shifting you had snapped you back into reality.

“Dabi, wait. Please. I can’t.” You begged softly. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Stopping him was incredibly hard for you as you wanted nothing more than to collapse into his hold. You were lonely and touch starved, and it felt so nice to be wanted, but you knew that if you were to give in to him now, your heart would get involved and it was a risk you weren’t sure you should take.

His hand quit pulling and he gave a slight frown, but reluctantly let go of you. You gave him a small smile and cupped his cheek with your hand, trying to convey your thoughts and feelings in a simple gesture. You weren’t trying to reject him, you knew this was much more common in his time, but for you it was too fast, too unfamiliar. You felt yourself let go so easily with him, and that scared you.

His blue eyes held yours, unwavering, before he suddenly turned his head to run his tongue along your palm. You squeaked and pulled your hand away quickly, smacking the water and splashing you both. You turned your back to him and sank back down into the water, trying to hide your blush as you called him a pervert under your breath. He snorted, obviously satisfied by your reaction. You were thankful for the change in atmosphere.

Dabi seemed like someone who took what he wanted regardless of what stood in his way. His tomb had definitely painted that picture. You were glad he didn’t push you or hold a grudge toward you, and that he had reverted back to playful and teasing. You couldn’t stop the small smile that stretched across your face as you thought of him. He was a mystery that you couldn’t wait to solve.

Not much later, you both finished bathing and left the baths together.

———————————————————————

As you walked through the city, he kept his hand on your lower back to guide you beside him. You carried your worn dress in your arms and wore one of the others that Dabi had brought for you.

You saw children running and playing up ahead and smiled. You leaned into Dabi, head resting against his shoulder. He glanced at you as his hand slid further to rest on your waist and keep you beside him.

“What was your childhood like?” You asked without thinking, eyes still focused on the kids playing. Dabi’s brown furrowed and you felt him tense beside you. You opened your mouth to tell him that he didn’t have to talk about it, but he had already started speaking.

“I was born from an arranged marriage. My father was a powerful man, he worked in the palace and was regarded the same as royalty. He was strong, and feared, but well respected. My mother was kind and quiet. She was chosen to balance him, to keep him grounded, and to help give him a strong heir.

I was the first born, the oldest son. I was expected to follow in his footsteps. To take his position in the palace and be just as strong, if not more.” He shifted uncomfortably before continuing.

“He started training me from a young age, but I was never good enough. Always falling short. His obsession with power and greed pushed him harder. My next two younger siblings were born and they were ignored by him, forgotten. All of the pressure was on me. And when I failed I was punished. But I always failed, my body wasn’t able to handle it as well as he felt it should.”

Your hand reached behind him to brush your fingers against his back, trying to provide what little comfort you could offer.

“Finally my youngest brother, Shouto, was born. At a young age, he took to the training well, though he hated it, and I was cast aside.

Over time, mother resented Shouto, he looked too much like father, and so she threw boiling water on him, burning his face. She was taken, kept somewhere in secret.

Father took Shouto to the palace with him to recover and continue training. He was locked away from the rest of us, and we were left to fend for ourselves in a small and empty home.” Dabi’s eyes narrowed at the memory, and he refused to meet your gaze.

“One day, when father visited, we fought. I was taken by palace guards, who had escorted him, and dragged to the dungeon of the palace to be taught my place. There I was locked up, tortured and burned. Eventually, I escaped, but the damage was done, and I looked...like this.” He finished, his tone dark as he stared down at his scarred arms.

Your heart was heavy, and you felt so much pain for him. Life had been so unfair, and you recalled in the tomb, how it spoke of great sadness and anger. Of him being alone. Hurt.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. You didn’t deserve any of it.” You whispered, reaching up to turn his head to face you as his eyes locked with yours.

“It was just what the gods chose for me. My fate. At first I thought they betrayed me, that I was set to fail from the start.” He said nonchalant, his eyes breaking away from yours to stare ahead once more.

“What did you do when you escaped?” You questioned, looking forward again as he lead you further down the road.

“I ran, for a while, I lived in the desert, and would come back to the city and commit petty crimes for food and money. It was like that for a couple of years, just getting scraps. But then I met a group of people, we shared similar views. Similar goals. We wanted the society to crumble and rebuild it.” He said, a glint in his eye that you couldn’t quite place.

“In the time I had spent in the desert, I had prayed for a while. Then I had revolted and rejected the Gods. Blamed and hated them. But one appeared in a dream, and offered me power. They gave me a new fate, and it started with the League.”

#dabi x reader #dabi is touya #dabi #dabi my hero academia #dabi x you #dabi smut #dabi x y/n #dabi bhna #dabi boku no hero academia #dabi fanfic #dabi mha #dabi au #dabi angst #dabi is a todoroki #dabi league of villains #dabi lov #dabi todoroki #The Tomb (Dabi x f!Reader)

121 notes · View notes

walkerwords · 3 years

Text

“The Savior Sessions” Part 16 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC/GENE PAGE

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: When the reader arrives back home, they have to face Negan, but first, they need to tell the others what happened with Alpha. When they find out that Daryl is about to step into the fire what will happen and how will Negan and the reader get past his escape?

Word Count: 2981

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Falling” by Harry Styles

Note: I wanted to make this part focused on conversation and have a breather after all the action. More to come.

-------

The walls of Alexandria greeted you late in the afternoon.

The entire ride home you had been paranoid that any Walker was one of Alpha’s people. The original fears from the start of the Apocalypse were returning. A lone Walker or even a few hadn’t given you the sense of fear like this since those first few months. However, now, the Living threat moved with the Dead and there were new rules to play by.

At least, that is what you felt this was. A cruel game. After Terminus, after the Wolves, and even after the Saviors, you didn’t think people could get worse. How naïve you and the rest of your family had been.

As your horse swayed beneath you, your hands gripped the reins tightly as Alpha’s face remained at the forefront of your mind.

There was something so feral yet powerful about the woman. You could also tell that she was the product of the new world and based on what Lydia had told you, Henry, and Daryl, her mother hadn’t always been this way. You only hoped that whatever Daryl was about to do didn’t unleash even more of the terror that you were sure was hidden beneath her stoic features.

Siddiq was the one that met you as the gate opened. He took the reins of your horse and led him to the stables, not saying a word as you finally relaxed when the gate shut securely behind you.

“Here,” Siddiq said quietly as he reached for your arm to help you down off the horse. You gripped his shoulder as your feet hit the ground and then he was pulling you into him. “I’m so sorry about Jesus,” he said and you gripped him back, trying to keep your emotions in check.

“Thanks, Doc,” you said as you gave him a final squeeze before letting go. Stepping back, you looked up at him and then noticed something else in his eyes. Something that wasn’t just sympathy. “What else happened?” He took a breath and then smiled slightly.

“Rosita’s pregnant,” he said proudly and that was the last thing you had expected to come out of his mouth.

“And it’s….it’s yours?” you asked, carefully.

“Yeah, it is,” he said with a wider smile. You couldn’t help the wave of emotion that overtook you then. Even with all the sorrow, this was something to celebrate.

“I am so happy for you,” you said and you meant it. “Look at you, a dad.” You punched him in the shoulder lightly.

“Thanks,” he said and you could tell he wanted to be even more excited, but after what had happened, nobody was feeling very gleeful. Instead, you focused on the task at hand.

“We need to talk. All of us,” you said with a heavy sigh, “we are not even remotely done with these people.” Siddiq understood immediately.

“I’ll call for a council meeting,” he said. “Did you want to and talk to…” he began, but you shook your head.

“No, just call the meeting. Negan can wait.”

---------

“They’re back,” a quiet voice said in the dark.

Negan slowly opened his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping. He hadn’t been able to since Michonne returned and told him what had happened and asked him if he had ever heard of people walking with the Dead while wearing their skins. He hadn’t, but he wasn’t surprised that they were out there. The new world changed people in the most extreme ways.

Michonne hadn’t stayed long, but he could tell the new threat was getting to her. It was rare when he saw the woman rocked and he didn’t have a good feeling about what was to come.

Turning over on his cot, Negan looked at Judith who had just returned to the cell. Judith folded herself onto the floor as she had hours before. She had been doing so since he got back, only leaving to see her mom and sleep. Whether Michonne knew or not, she never told her to leave.

“Do they look angry?” Negan asked.

“They look tired,” Judith said softly. “I think something else bad happened.” Negan furrowed his brow as he sat up.

“Why do you say that?”

“Siddiq just called a council meeting. They only do that when something bad happened,” Judith said.

“They called a council meeting once because Eugene tried to make a catapult,” Negan reminded her.

“This one feels different,” she said with a slight shake of her head. “Before I came down here, I heard (Y/N) say that Uncle Daryl was afraid. He’s not afraid of anything.” Negan frowned at that. He knew Daryl enough to know that he rarely showed fear in the face of danger.

“Your uncle is strong, kid,” he told her, trying to reassure her. “He’s been through worse.” Judith, however, wasn’t convinced. She leaned in more towards the bars, removing her hat so he could see her better.

“Negan,” she whispered, “I’m scared.” He didn’t hesitate then. Negan moved towards the bars and crouched down to her level. He reached for her hands and she held onto them tight.

“You listen to me, kid,” he said, “no matter what happens, nobody will hurt you. Do you understand me? I won’t let them hurt you. Besides, you are a survivor, and dammit, you’re a Grimes. To these new freaks that may not mean somethin’, but to me and to everyone else in your family, that means a lot.”

“Does it?” she asked in a small voice.

“Hell yeah it does,” he assured her. “You, your mom, and that little boy upstairs are what’s left of this badass family I met seven years ago and you know what I learned after knowin’ your daddy and big brother?”

“What?”

“Nobody goes against a Grimes and wins.”

--------

As soon as you finished explaining what had happened at Hilltop, the meeting hall was silent.

“I don’t know what Henry ended up saying to her, but it got the kid to open up,” you explained. “I think that she could be valuable.”

“For what?” Aaron asked. “You saw those freaks the same night I did, (Y/N). You know how ruthless they are. They aren’t going to back down for one girl.”

“Lydia is Alpha’s child, Aaron,” you said. “Whether the woman is capable of compassion or not, that means something to her. I don’t think she would have openly exposed herself like that if it didn’t.”

“And that’s why Daryl went after her? For leverage?” Rosita asked. You noticed that her hand was placed protectively on her abdomen. You didn’t think she realized she was doing it.

“I think it’s more about protecting her,” you said with a sigh. “The girl’s been abused.”

“She also killed Jesus,” Aaron argued.

“No, her people did. Lydia didn’t kill anyone,” you countered.

“As far as you know…”

“Look all I know is that Daryl is about to declare war and we need to be ready,” you said. Looking around at the faces in the room, you could see that a wave of fear was being passed from person to person. These...Whisperers, as Eugene called them, were something out of a nightmare and that was saying something considering everyone had been living in a horror film for a decade.

“Negan didn’t know them,” Michonne interjected, gaining your attention. You nodded.

“I figured as much,” you sighed. “I don’t think anyone would have known them. I think that this is their first time showing themselves to people that they weren’t immediately going to kill afterward.”

“Looks like we’re all going in blind on this,” Michonne said.

“It’s new territory, that’s for sure,” you said, leaning against the wooden column at your back.

“What’s your take on all of this?” Gabriel asked you.

“I think they are more dangerous than we think,” you said. “We’ve fought villains before, but this is the first time when I can’t see how this is going to go. Guns and armies are one thing, even those freaks at Terminus made some kind of sense in my mind. But this? This is absolute insanity and I’m positive that we haven’t seen the last of Alpha or her people.”

“Why didn’t you go with Daryl?” Aaron asked.

“I was needed back here,” you said.

“For Negan?” Aaron asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes, Aaron, instead of informing my family that there are masked psychos after us, I ran all the way back here to check on escaped convict number one,” you spat, gathering your things and gripping your sword tighter. “Fuck off.”

Nobody said anything as you stormed from the hall.

“Nice,” Michonne said with a smack to the back of Aaron’s head.

You headed for home, still boiling with anger. You knew that Aaron was angry with you about everything with Negan no matter what he said. He blamed Negan for Eric and while you understood, you just wished that he would remember that Negan wasn’t the one to kill his boyfriend. Eric tragically died in the war, but so did a lot of people.

Pausing in the middle of the road, you couldn’t believe that that thought crossed your mind. You were invalidating Aaron’s grief because of your own emotions and feelings and you hated the way it made you feel. “Get yourself together,” you whispered to yourself.

Continuing on towards your house, you passed by the Grimes house when a small voice reached your ears.

“You always tell me to be honest!” Judith’s yell came from the cell beneath her house. She sounded frustrated which had you moving closer.

“You’re the kid, I’m the adult,” Negan said back. Hearing his voice offered you both comfort and stoked that anger in your gut. You wanted to throttle him and hug him at the same time. Your feet were moving before you could even stop them and the next thing you knew you were pushing open the heavy door of the jail. You were met with silence.

“Get out, Judith,” you ordered. The young girl looked up at you from her spot on the ground. Her hat was in her hands and she looked as if she had been there for a while.

“No,” she said, “you’re gonna yell at him.” The girl was too smart for her own good, you thought. You still avoided looking at Negan, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“I’m gonna yell at both of you if you don’t get out,” you said. “Your mom is gonna wanna talk to you.”

“Is this about what happened to Jesus?” she asked, getting to her feet.

“Yes, now go.” Judith hesitated. “Judith, right now.” With a sigh, she placed her hat on her head and sulked as she walked from the room. With one last look at Negan, she stormed out and ran up the steps.

“You shouldn’t be angry with her,” Negan said, finally speaking directly to you. You paused and then let your bag drop from your hands. Dust flew from where it thumped to the cold floor and then you were turning to finally look at him. That light was in his eyes again, the one that was only reserved for you.

Normally, it would give you so much joy, but it only fueled your fire. However, you kept your temper under control. “Are you sure you don’t know anything about these Whisperers?” you asked, your voice low.

“Is that what you seriously want to talk about right now?” he asked, his arms braced on the bars as he gave you an incredulous look.

“I’m not sure I can talk about anything else without screaming.”

“You’re angry,” he said.

“I’m hurt, Negan,” you corrected. “When Scott showed up and told Daryl and me that you had left, yeah, I was pissed. I couldn’t understand why after everything you would just leave and then I realized something.”

“Which was what?” he asked carefully.

“That I was so stupid to believe anything that happened between us was real.” Negan stared at you in shock, not expecting that at all.

“You honestly believe that? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What else am I supposed to believe!” you shouted. “I am so goddamn stupid! I should have known the second you had the chance, you were going to leave. I just don’t know why you even bothered to come back.”

“Don’t bullshit yourself, (Y/N),” he countered, not letting you be the only one on offense.

“Excuse me?”

“You know damn well why I came back! You just won’t admit it to yourself because you’re afraid!”

“Afraid? Of what? Why don’t you tell me Negan since you seem to know me so well,” you said, crossing your arms.

“That’s the thing, though. I do know you. I know you better than anyone has in a long time. And I’m not talking about where you grew up or how many Walkers you’ve killed. I know you. We are the same and I know that I’m not the only one who has felt that way. You can deny it all you want, but I know the truth and so do you.”

“You don’t know anything,” you whispered, but your voice was thick with emotion. “I can’t feel like this, don’t you understand?”

“Like what?”

“Like I am willing to turn my back on my entire family just to keep you safe. Just to make sure that you are still alive when I come home. I shouldn’t be this...this consumed by one person!”

“Why are you acting like the idea of you and me is so fucking terrible?”

“Because everything I touch, I kill and so do you! You say we’re the same, well you’re right, Negan! We are both monsters and all people do is die around us! Rick, Carl, Jesus! If we are the same then I don’t want to be!”

“I’m not going to let you stand there and say that what we feel for each other doesn’t mean anything!”

“Don’t tell me how to feel,” you shot back.

“Then say it, (Y/N),” he said, leaning through the bars. “Say that I mean nothing to you and I’ll stop.” You were silent as you looked at him, fighting the tears behind your eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

“You bastard,” you swore. “You left me. After everything that I’ve lost, that you knew about and you left! How am I supposed to react to hearing that you were gone!”

“I came back,” he said softly.

“And what if you didn’t? Was I just supposed to accept that? Was I just supposed to go on with life not knowing where you were or if you were even alive? What was the plan?” Negan reached for you, but you shook your head, holding your arms tighter against your chest.

“I didn’t think there was a future here if I was locked in a cage.”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you shot back, trying to keep your rage contained.

“Don’t you?” Negan challenged.

“I just lost one of my best friends and my other one is hunting down our new enemy’s kid to save her life so no, Negan, I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he whispered.

“What did I tell you about apologizing?”

“I’m not sorry that I left, I’m sorry that you’re hurting.”

“You hurt me,” you told him, wiping at your face.

“I know and if I could take it back, I would,” he said.

“I don’t want to be the bad guy here,” you told him.

“You could never be the villain of my story,” he whispered. The silence was thick in the room and you didn’t know how to respond to him. You hadn’t intended to go off on him like this, you thought you would give it a few days, but hearing his voice….

“I have to figure out how to help Daryl,” you said suddenly with a sniff. Negan frowned as you changed the subject but went along with it.

“What are you going to do about them?” he asked.

“We’ll figure it out when Daryl finds the girl. He has to be included in the decision. Tara too. Maggie also if we can reach her, but I don’t know where she is right now,” you whispered, not looking at him.

“There’s gonna be a fight, isn’t there?”

“Not if I can help it,” you said, gripping your blade. Negan noticed and he also noticed the steel reserve that seemed to be around you since you walked in.

“You’re gonna kill them.” It wasn’t a question.

“Cut off the head of the snake and the body dies,” you said looking up at him. He could see the tears marks, the tears he had caused. “No more games. If she comes for us, I will kill her.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” you said.

“We both know that’s not true.”

“We don’t know anything anymore.”

“What are you really trying to say, (Y/N)? That you hate me now?”

“I will never hate you,” you said, taking a step back. “I told you that before.”

“So what, then?”

“I just can’t trust you anymore,” you said as you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder.

“How do I win that trust back?” he asked, his tone becoming hoarse.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, turning to go.

“I’ll do anything!” he called to you. Your hand paused on the door handle and as you closed your eyes you let one more tear fall.

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

“(Y/N)!” he yelled as you left the room, letting the door close behind you as you walked away from him.

As you jogged up the steps, you heard his calls for you to return, but you just kept walking.

TAGS: : @amaroho @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland @halszka-potter @yespleasejayhalstead @fmunegan @hoemadegrace @pulplorrd @writingdead0829 @lucillethings

#Negan Imagine #Savior Sessions #Walkerwords #negan x reader #negan #twd imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfics #twd fanfiction #negan x you #negan x y/n #twd

121 notes · View notes

hotchley · 3 years

Text

aaron

summary: “some of us grow up to catch them.”

ssa hotchner. former prosecutor. unit chief of the behavioural analysis unit. best shot in the whole of the quantico building. dad to jack and his entire team.

aaron hotchner. just a boy, trying to make it through the day.

(alternatively known as the backstory, the moments between, and the hotch episode we never got)

read chapter one here!

chapter two: the moments in between

trigger warnings for this chapter : minor character deaths, death of a parent, implied/referenced child abuse, court cases involving a not guilty verdict to a charge of abuse, arson, references to cancer, references to the death of a child, vomit/sickness, references to self-harm and suicide, stabbing, canon-typical violence, blood, implied/reference drug addiction, references to domestic violence (this is between hotch's parents)

Aaron Hotchner was a lawyer full of contradictions.

He had graduated at the top of his class, but he never once referenced his own father’s abilities when he started practicing. And instead of becoming a defence lawyer- a role that would have led to him holding a position of power within weeks- he became a criminal prosecutor.

He claimed it was what called to him.

In reality, it was because he refused to let anything else be tainted by the memory of his father. He remembered the nights where his father would come home and talk about the horrible things his clients had done. He remembered how he had laughed and said he would be able to make all of those things go away with a few words. He remembered how his stomach had tightened at the injustice of it all.

But he wasn’t a scared little boy anymore. He was an adult. He was as close to happy as he could be when he spent his days looking at photos of people who had lives, and hopes, and dreams that were cut short. When an ordinary day at work meant putting some bad people behind bars whilst he was forced to let others go free.

When he was in court, he was amazing. He was cold and emotionless. People genuinely believed he had no emotions, that there was nothing that could faze him. Killers and abusers would hurl insults at him, defence lawyers would pull random laws from nowhere and he would take it. He would think on his feet and come up with something. But then there were sudden moments where he would look so vulnerable. Like when he spoke to a child, a young woman, the family that thought they hadn’t done anything to save their loved one.

The only time he would smile was when the blonde woman in his life would appear. Sometimes it was with lunch, dressed semi-casually, hair slightly messy and pen on her face from whatever it was she was doing. Other times it would be in a pretty dress. Those would be the days where he would look mildly terrified for a moment, before grinning and leading her out the office. On the bad days where they would be forced to come in on a weekend, she would come in with her own work and keep him company.

Haley had gone into teaching. High school history, although she always helped with the various productions held. She was a natural with the kids, always doing her best to be understanding and helpful, instead of confrontational and harsh. Despite this, there were still nights where she would come home, not saying anything. Those nights, Aaron would wrap his arms around her and let her cry about the injustice of the system.

Those were the nights he remembered just how lucky he was that she had taken a chance on him, unlike everyone else, who had left him to suffer. He didn’t want to think about where he would’ve been without her. Or if he would’ve even been anywhere on this earth.

So their lives weren’t perfect, and he woke up screaming some nights, but they were good. They both had stable jobs in the same area, which meant they could eat dinner together and fall asleep in each other’s arms every night. Haley liked linking their hands together so she could look at their wedding rings.

The wedding had been small, more for her parents than anyone else. He still didn’t believe he was worth loving. She had always dreamt of a wedding, but with Aaron none of that seemed to matter. What mattered was him being around. Her parents however, weren’t having any of it and even offered to pay for the wedding if that was the problem.

Haley had very kindly told them to keep their money. If her and Aaron were to get married, they would do it the way they wanted to, with their savings and their budget.

In the end, the wedding had been a compromise. Haley’s entire family, all of her high school friends and sorority sisters were invited, and everyone but Meredith attended. Aaron’s mother and brother came, as well as some of his friends from law school, but the list of people he actually wanted there was even shorter than Haley’s. She refused a seating plan for that exact reason.

After they cut the cake, they managed to sneak away for a few minutes. The wedding had been outdoors. They could see the stars. And when Aaron looked at her, he fell in love all over again. He could hear the music faintly, and so he had offered his hand and they had danced, feeling like they were seventeen all over again. That night, there had been no darkness inside him. Only joy.

And as one of his favourite authors, Joseph Campbell, had written: find a place inside where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.

But when you saw the things he did, it was difficult to find a place where joy could survive. And even when it was there, it was temporary. Because no matter what he, and everyone else in the district attorney’s office did, the evil never stopped. There was always somebody else getting hurt. Another victim not being believed. A lawyer quitting because they couldn’t keep looking at the worst of humanity and surviving.

Aaron’s own last case haunted him years after he joined the FBI.

He had been on edge for a while. Christmas had come and gone. With it, the never-ending questions from various colleagues and family members about when he was next coming home. When was Haley going to have a baby? Were they even trying for a child? Was Aaron having some difficulties? Or worst of all, when was he going to let go of his grand delusions and silly ideas and settle down as a defence lawyer?

Returning to his real home- the apartment him and Haley resided in, that had come to life with their little knick-knacks- had been a relief. She wasn’t fond of going home and seeing everyone that had failed Aaron, but she loved her family and friends. Aaron could never get away fast enough. She respected that. It was why they worked.

The new year came, and with it, new cases.

Aaron wasn’t trying to bring a killer to justice with only the evidence from the crime scenes and the testimony of families. He was trying to save an innocent child and make sure the only monsters in their life were the ones imaginary ones under the bed, instead of the father they said was abusing him and his mother.

It was like looking in a mirror. An innocent child finally snapping and telling the police the truth about their home life. But where Aaron had been mocked and told to stop being a liar, the police had listened. Gathered the evidence. They had done their job. Now it was time for Aaron to do his.

He poured over the files for hours. He found every piece of evidence he could. He would not fail this child. Not the same way he had been. He would find the truth behind every hospital visit, between every tear they had ever shed and he would make sure that the old bastard’s wife and son never had to be scared for their lives ever again.

Aaron was going to do what nobody ever did for him.

It was a week before the trial. New evidence had been located. It was all important, obviously, but there was something they were missing. Something Aaron knew would make all the difference to their case. He just needed to find out.

His phone lit up. Sean was calling him. He rolled his eyes. He couldn’t be dealing with his younger brother’s complaints in that moment. And he certainly couldn’t be lending him any more money. Him and Haley were saving for a mortgage. Then they would have a real home. Somewhere to call their own.

Somewhere to eventually raise their own children.

Sean tried to call him two more times. And Aaron declined two more times. It was a bit strange that he was phoning so consecutively, but it was probably nothing. No, not probably, definitely. It always was.

He turned back to the files, making sure his phone was on silent. When the clock ticked to six, he hurriedly locked majority of the files away in his cabinet and put the ones that had just come through into his briefcase. Haley had planned a nice evening for the two of them. But if- when- he woke up in the early hours of the morning, at least he could do something productive.

There were two more missed calls from Sean. Aaron made a mental note to phone him when he got home.

“Give me fifteen minutes to shower and then I’m yours, I promise,” he said as he entered their living room, shoes already neatly put away on the porch.

There were two packed bags on the couch. Haley was sat, wearing a black dress, hands in her lap, landline next to her. Her head was bent, but her body was shaking as tears slipped down her cheek, dampening the fabric.

Aaron felt bile rising in the back of his throat as he knelt in front of her. “Baby,” he whispered.

She shook her head.

“Baby, what happened? Just tell me, it’s okay.”

“Your mom’s gone,” she said.

“What?” Aaron whispered.

“I’m so sorry Aaron. I am so- that wasn’t the way I wanted to tell you. It’s just- Sean said she was admitted to the hospital earlier, and she passed away about an hour ago. They phoned here because you didn’t answer your cell phone. I tried to explain everything, really, but they wouldn’t let me speak and-”

“She’s really gone,” Aaron said.

Haley embraced him, awkwardly wrapping her arms around his neck as he sobbed, the knowledge still not sinking in, but the emptiness in his heart was threatening to overwhelm him entirely. They sat like that for what may have been hours or minutes as his body shook. Only when his tears turned to hiccups did Haley pull away, gently wiping away his tears with the sleeve of her dress.

“You should shower. There’s nothing else you can do now,” she said.

Aaron shook his head. Haley stood and led him to the bathtub.

“All you need to do is keep your head up for me, okay?”

The shower had no effect on him. Haley helped him dress. He felt like a small child, needing someone’s assistance to button his shirt up. But he couldn’t make his body cooperate with him. He couldn’t do anything, still in shock that she was gone.

Haley put the bags in the boot. Aaron got in the passenger side. He spent the journey staring out the window. When the buildings became more familiar, he closed his eyes, not opening them until they reached Haley’s old home. He turned to her in confusion.

“Sean is staying with a friend tonight. Going back to that house is not something you need to do today. My parents already said we could stay with them.”

Of course they did. Because everyone must’ve already known that his mother died. His mother had died and he hadn’t been there because he’d ignored his brother’s phone calls. What kind of person did that make him?

Haley no longer had the key. She rang the doorbell, one arm still wrapped around him as they awkwardly stood outside. Hotch remembered the first time he had gone to her house for dinner. It had been after his father passed away. He’d spent the entire meal feeling uncomfortable. Like the Brooks’ weren’t going to approve of him.

Her mother had hugged him, cradling the back of his head, whispering her condolences, both for what had been lost and for what the town had failed to do. Roy Brooks had shaken his hand, saying that anyone would be proud to call him their son. Jessica had dragged him to one side and said they’d all known about Haley sneaking him in during the night, but nobody knew what to say.

When he got home, he crawled into bed and sobbed. For the first time, somebody loved him unconditionally.

It was her mother that answered the door. When she saw who it was, she ushered them in. Aaron remembered at the last moment that he was supposed to take his shoes off. Haley led him to the living room.

Roy embraced him. “You’re freezing,” he whispered. “Darling, put some tea on. Aaron, how are you feeling?”

He shook his head. He did not deserve kindness. Not in this moment.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to talk. Just drink some tea and then got some sleep. Haley’s old bedroom has been set up for the two of you. And we’ll both be here if you need anything. The next few days are going to be draining for both of you, so please, don’t hesitate in asking for any kind of support.”

“Thank you Papa,” Haley said, rubbing her husband’s back.

Aaron tried to smile, but it was forced and uncomfortable.

Roy was the one who drove him to the funeral home. Haley had offered, but she had already driven them from their apartment, which had tired her out because she hated driving, so Aaron had declined, having every intention to bear the burden alone. But as he was slipping his shoes on, Roy had emerged, saying nobody should have go alone.

Sean was waiting outside for the two of them, eyes red, biting his nails. When Aaron looked at him, he couldn’t even imagine him as the eighteen-year-old about to go to college that he was. When Aaron looked at his little brother, he just saw the little boy who didn’t understand that their dad wasn’t coming home. Only this time, there were no comforting lies to give him. He understood everything. Including Aaron’s failure.

“How could you?” Sean whispered the moment he saw his brother.

Aaron looked down.

“She was in the hospital, constantly asking where you were. She didn’t care that I was there. She just wanted to know where her precious baby was, and I had to keep lying and say that you were coming when in reality, I had no fucking clue where you were. It was not supposed to be me holding her hand. It was supposed to be you. But you weren’t there, and so you have no right to turn up, now looking all sad and pathetic.”

Michael Hotchner had not been right about much. But he had been right about one thing. Aaron Hotchner was his mirror. Sean Hotchner was his son.

“Sean Hotchner. That is enough. You do not get to disrespect your brother or your mother like that. Go inside, and do not create another scene,” Roy snapped.

When Sean departed, he turned to Aaron, who was shaking.

“Son?”

“He’s right,” Aaron whispered. “I should have been there. He- Sean phoned me and I didn’t answer because I thought it was stupid and I had this case and- I failed her.”

“Look at me. It’s not your fault. It was her time to go, and you cannot spend the rest of your life blaming yourself. Sean is angry and grieving, and he doesn’t mean a single word of what he said. You’re a good man, doing a good job and you make my daughter happy. Don’t ever forget that. Okay?”

Aaron nodded, not truly believing him. He followed Sean into the funeral home, where they spent the next few hours in a tense, uncomfortable silence. Aaron wanted to comfort his brother, but he didn’t know how. Not when Sean stood as far away from him as possible.

The funeral was a day later. Once again, Haley held his hand until the priest called him up to say a few words. Aaron managed to make it through his eulogy with minimal tears, but the moment he was back beside his wife, he turned away from the grave, letting the tears fall.

The people were silently judging him for what he had failed to do. Roy glared at everyone that dared tried to voice these opinions. They were wrong. Aaron hadn’t failed anyone. He’d gotten there the moment he was supposed to, and if those people were even half as religious as they liked to claim they were, they would know that.

“You take as long as you need,” Haley whispered, when everyone else, even Sean had departed.

Aaron nodded, holding the flowers he’d grabbed from the car to his chest like a baby. He watched as Haley left, going to sit in the car to give him the space he needed. He’d told them all to drive home, that the walk would do him some good. He watched on unsteady legs as the car faded from view.

And then he fell to his knees, sobbing, one hand pressed to his mouth to stop too much noise from escaping, the other blindly feeling around for the flowers left by Sean. Their mother had hated roses- somehow, she always managed to prick her finger on the thorns. The only reason they had ever been in the house was because on the days where people would come round, his father would turn up with a bouquet of them, and she would dutifully smile and accept them.

Aaron moved the roses so they were hidden by all the other flowers they had left. And then he put his own small bouquet of carnations right where the headstone would go.

“Mama, I am so sorry,” he whispered.

And then he walked away, unable to stand the sight of the grave anymore.

The defence ripped him and his witnesses to shreds.

The verdict was not guilty.

The child was sent home.

“You promised me,” they sobbed as their father stood with an easy smirk on his face.

He was sick the moment he got home. Haley didn’t say a word. She just showed him an advert for the FBI that had been posted through the letterbox. When he stared at her, she smiled. Said that she had married Aaron Hotchner the man, not Mr Hotchner the prosecutor.

Two weeks later, he was enrolling in the FBI Academy.

Six months later and he was Agent Hotchner. He liked that. It was his own, and nobody would ever associate the title with his father. He could be his own person.

Then David Rossi gave him the nickname of Hotch and he couldn’t be happier. It would’ve made his mother smile. And his father turn in his grave at the utter shame of his good name being reduced down to something so mundane.

But being a profiler was tough. Every case meant dealing with the very worst of humanity. And even among the worst, there was a hierarchy. Some cases were just more disgusting, more scary and more scarring than others. A few cases reminded him that profilers were all just a step away from becoming unsubs themselves. That the line could and would blur before any of them even realised.

Vincent Perrotta left him vulnerable. Physically and emotionally. Jason had told him to loosen his tie and undo his top button, but Aaron needed the reassuring pressure of both things at his neck in order to maintain some kind of illusion of control in spite of the damage done by the wire.

He didn’t open up to unsubs. One of the most important parts of conducting an interrogation was to make them think you understood them without giving away anything about yourself. And most of the time, he was good at doing that. He pretended to understand the hatred of children, pretended to agree with them when they claimed that all women were just manipulative bitches and he pretended to find it amusing when they thought that the person doing the act was right.

The key word was pretend.

He wasn’t pretending when he looked Perrotta in the eye and told him the one thing that only Haley and Dave were aware of. Had it been any other time, it would’ve been funny. His own team didn’t know what his father had done to him, but this serial killer did, and it was all because he’d slipped up and said us instead of them.

Hotch had never been so thankful there was a bathroom on the same floor as his office that nobody ever used. The moment Perrotta turned away, the realisation that his crimes had never been inevitable causing more distress than the murder of the woman had, Hotch had bolted.

He hadn’t eaten since the incident in the night. It hurt to swallow. Which meant despite the minutes he spent retching over the toilet seat, hands trembling because how many times had he looked in the mirror and seen the exact same look that he’d witnessed on Perrotta, nothing came out.

Morgan was stood by the door.

“I know we have a no profiling rule.”

“Then follow it.”

“Reid’s doing your paperwork. He’s surprisingly good at forging your handwriting and I’m not sure I want to know why. That means all you need to do is sign it. Go home.”

“You’re not my superior Morgan,” Hotch snapped.

Morgan didn’t even blink. “I know. But you won’t write me up for insubordination. There’s no reason for you to be here, but there is every reason for you to be at home.”

Their relationship was a strange one. They trusted each other as agents- it was the only way they were able to go out in the field- but not as individuals. But then every once in a while, Derek would do something like this and Hotch would wonder if it was his way of saying that he did indeed care.

He was right though. There was every reason for him to be at home.

The living room light was off, so he immediately headed upstairs. Jack was asleep in his crib. Hotch felt uneasy in the nursery. Both he and Haley knew this was their forever home, which was why they had a nursery- it could be Jack’s bedroom until he moved out- but after Karl Arnold, he wasn’t sure how he felt about not being able to see him in the night.

“He won’t wake up if you hold him,” Haley said from the doorway.

“You should be asleep,” he replied, feeling guilty that he must have woken her.

“No, I shouldn’t. What happened?”

“How do you know something happened?”

She shrugged. “I know you.”

He sighed. “I don’t want to burden you. You already put up with enough from me.”

She crept closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, and he was transported back to the bathroom, only now the scars on his back had healed but not faded and more, both visible and hidden, covered his body because profiling always damaged people.

“You’re not burdening me. I’m asking.”

“Serial killer. His dad abused him and his mom. I accidentally told him that some of us grow up to catch them. But Hales, the look on his face. It was like he finally realised that everything he did had been because of him, not because of his father and I just, I sympathised. What kind of person does that make me?”

“A good one.”

“I saw myself in him. The person I might have become if you hadn’t saved me,” he confessed, still watching his son.

Haley’s grip loosened. He realised what he had said.

“Aaron that wasn’t me. You saved yourself. You got out and you decided you were going to break the cycle. That was you. I just helped you along the way. Hey, look at me.”

He turned, tears in his eyes. Haley smiled, still as bright and good as the day they met. She took his hands and lifted them to her lips, placing a soft kiss to them before leaning past him and lifting Jack up. The baby stirred slightly, but did not wake, even when Haley handed him to Aaron.

“You won’t hurt him. Or me. You will never be like the people that you hunt down. I will die before that ever happens,” she said. There was such raw passion in her voice that the tears finally fell.

Haley would die before he hurt someone. And he had made a vow to her father the day they married that he would keep her safe, and a second the day he joined the FBI that if Haley were to die, it would not be because of his job.

“Thank you,” he whispered, putting Jack down so he could press a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you,” she said, like it was the easiest thing in the world for her to do. Because to her it was. She just wished he could understand that.

He didn’t know how to say the words. Not in the way that she needed. So instead he smiled, took one last look at his baby and walked away. He pretended to be fine because Haley shouldn’t have to worry about her. In reality, the moment she fell asleep, he went and checked the locks. Again.

The darkness shouldn’t have been able to creep in, but it did. It always did.

“I hope Morgan wasn’t too rough with you,” Gideon said, taking the seat opposite him.

Hotch looked at him. Gideon gave him that smile that never seemed to be aimed at him anymore. He sighed, fiddling with the pen he’d placed on the paperwork he hadn’t touched since boarding the jet. Talking to Abby’s son had been more painful than he’d expected, but somebody needed to do it. It was the least they could do for him.

“I’ve handled worse,” he replied.

Gideon hmmed at that. “That doesn’t mean you have to. I made you some tea. Herbal. Apparently it’s calming. You should drink it.”

Hotch stared at the mug like it was going to poison him. Then he carried on staring out the window. It was dark, and there wasn’t really much to see, but he couldn’t keep looking at the sympathy on Jason’s face. It made him feel sick. He wasn’t the one that had lost a father that day. He had just gotten too close, again, despite constantly telling everyone that wasn’t something they could do.

It was impossible to get the image of him burning to death out of his mind. Whilst he wanted to believe Abby’s death had been swift and painless, much like his own father’s heart attack, he knew that was impossible. He’d seen enough burn victims to know it took time for that happen. He wondered if, in those final moments, Abby regretted his decision.

“Hotch there was nothing we could have done to save him,” Gideon said gently. He wished Dave was still there. He would know what to say, what to do. Gideon had never had that relationship with Aaron. He liked to think he had that relationship with Spencer, but Aaron was different. He didn’t understand him.

“I should have stopped him. He should have had more time. If only so he could look at his son and tell him what was going on.”

Gideon tilted his head to the side. “Spencer mentioned that you had gone to see the family. Why didn’t you send JJ? She is our media liaison, that’s her job description, not yours.”

“JJ wouldn’t have understood. I had to go. It had to be me.” Hotch didn’t really know why he was telling Gideon any of this.

“It was your penance, wasn’t it? You think it’s your fault that he died, so you decided to make the fallout your responsibility. Hotch, you’re the Unit Chief now. The team look to you. You can’t tell them to do one thing and then do the exact opposite.”

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to be SSA Hotchner, or even Hotch. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be Aaron, because even though Haley and Dave- the only people that used his first name- had always treated it like something precious, the ghost of his father made him think the only way it could be said was with disdain.

Even with his eyes closed, he knew Jason was watching him. He opened his eyes and turned slightly, watching the other members of the team. JJ and Emily were laughing at something that Morgan was saying. Reid was smiling. Hotch felt relieved. It had been far too long since Reid had smiled, and he knew he was the one to blame.

Jason followed his gaze. “They’ve all come so far, haven’t they? One day, they won’t even need us.”

That startled Hotch. His eyes met Gideon’s and he realised his mistake immediately.

“I see. It wasn’t just Abby you saw yourself in. It was his son. That’s why you went. You were compensating.”

“Please don’t profile me,” he whispered, knowing it was useless.

“I’m not. Now I know I’m no David Rossi or Haley Brooks, but I am here. However much you may not agree, I am.”

It was useless to say that he didn’t think that. Because he did, and it was written in the hesitance of his decisions. Of his constant watching. Of the pile of paperwork in his office that was meant to be Jason’s.

“I wanted- needed- to know who it was that my father had been having an affair because everyone, including my own mother, had known. But then he was diagnosed with cancer and all of that became irrelevant. I never got my answers, and it still hurts, even now.”

Nobody, not even Haley, knew about that. She obviously had her suspicions, and she knew about his lack of closure, but he had never properly told her.

Jason wasn’t saying anything. Hotch looked at him and saw that the other man was looking past him, not at him. He followed his gaze, and realised he was looking at Spencer. He swallowed the lump in his throat and smiled as Derek ruffled his hair.

He turned back, and saw that Jason was watching Spencer with the soft smile he had never managed to evoke. He blinked back tears. He missed Dave. He wanted Dave because Dave would know what to say to stop him feeling like such crap. Jason didn’t. Because Jason loved Spencer more than he loved Aaron, and Aaron couldn’t even fathom resenting either of them for that because it wasn’t either of their faults.

It was just a fact of life. But that didn’t mean it still didn’t sting when instead of replying, Gideon stood and went over to the other members of the team, intently listening to whatever it was Spencer was saying.

Haley would tell him to phone Dave. But he couldn’t disrupt his book tour like that. Instead, he kept staring out the window, trying to forget how beautiful the flames had looked against the darkness of the night or how deep down, he almost wished it had been him in there.

It was too close to the line between profiler and unsub.

He bottled up his emotions and hoped that Jason would stay. If not for him, then for Spencer. Because he couldn’t be that person. He was barely that person for Jack.

Jason did not stay. Neither did Haley. They both reached their breaking points and then Hotch pushed them too far.

Deep down, he knew the moment where they both decided they couldn’t take it anymore, the moment where they finally admitted to themselves that they deserved better and they took the steps to get there.

He just never expected they would happen on the same day. He supposed he’d bought that upon himself though. It was him that had said Jason was okay to return to work, for the purely selfish reason that he couldn’t do it alone even though he knew Gideon needed more time. It was him that had left on the case because Morgan had asked him to, even though Haley had asked him not to.

What kind of marriage was that? He didn’t know who had phoned. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know but there was no guarantee that Haley was having an affair. To suggest that she was would be cruel. It would only be because he didn’t want to have to take accountability for his part in the breakdown of their marriage.

It did take two to tango.

But where Jason took a piece of Spencer’s heart, Haley took the reason Hotch had never been able to stop hunting down monsters.

Morgan told him they would survive without Gideon. Hotch knew they would, but he wasn’t sure he could. Gideon’s departure, as much as he didn’t want to seem narcissistic, would reflect on him. He hadn’t saved him. He hadn’t been able to save his marriage- because Haley had done all she had and it had been his turn- and now the unsub’s last words were haunting his memory.

He had always taken pride in the fact that he was a difficult man to profile. A face schooled into a cautious look of neutrality, suits that hid the fact that he never seemed to have an appetite anymore. The only thing that ever gave away his nerves was the small hand thing he had never been able to stop doing.

For his own profession to be used against him in such a way, so soon after he had failed to save so many people- the six agents in Boston, Elle, Jason, Haley- was disarming. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to do. Normally, he would’ve gone to the home where Haley would have left a light on for him. He would’ve watched his son sleep and just stared at him in awe. He would’ve pressed a kiss to Haley’s forehead before climbing into their bed and seeking her warmth. Maybe, if it had been too late to go home, he would’ve taken Jason to the piano night down at the bar.

But Haley had taken her warmth and the thing that made their house a home with her. All the rooms would be dark when he got back. Jack’s room would be empty. Their bed would be cold.

He hadn’t slept alone since college. It hurt, to wake up in the morning and not see Haley’s hair, messy and knotted.

He just didn’t want to be alone, but who was he supposed to tell?

“Reid. I’ll drop you home. It’s been a long few days,” he said.

Everyone else had left. Reid looked up with wide eyes. He looked so painfully young, and Hotch felt a slight pain in his stomach. What was this job doing to him? Spencer deserved better than sleepless nights and painful memories that would never be forgotten. Hotch guessed that one day, Spencer would be added to the list of people he had failed to save.

In some ways, he already was.

“I can go myself,” Spencer mumbled.

“Reid. Let me do this. Please,” Hotch said.

Spencer nodded. “Okay.”

They left, the car far too silent for either of them to be comfortable. Hotch wanted to debate something intellectual, if only to soothe Spencer’s nerves, but the words classic narcissist still left a bitter taste in his mouth. And his mind had gone completely blank regarding anything else.

“We’ve driven past the turning. The route that you’re now going down would mean that getting to my apartment would take an hour extra.”

Hotch kept his eyes on the road, subtly checking that the car doors were locked. “You’re coming home with me. I don’t think you should go home alone.”

Reid turned to face him properly. “I don’t need you to treat me like a child. I get enough of that from everyone else. Gideon left me with a letter, just like my dad. He’s not going to come back and rationally, I have to accept that, because refusal to do so won’t change anything.”

“Maybe. But you should know better than anyone that we can’t control our brains.”

He realised the moment the words left his mouth that it wasn’t the right thing to say, and he immediately regretted them. What Reid thought he was trying to imply was definitely not what he was, but the words had come out wrong and now Reid was going to hate him too.

“I do. Know that. Don’t need you reminding me.”

He sounded just like Jack. Hotch swallowed. “I know. I’m sorry, that came out badly. What I meant was that you’re allowed to feel like you’re being irrational. Missing Gideon is a valid emotion, regardless of the way he left us. You. I meant you.”

They were stuck at a red light.

“Hotch, why haven’t you transferred?” Reid asked suddenly.

He shifted slightly. “My reason for doing it is no longer a thing.”

Reid frowned, and Hotch hit the gas.

“Oh,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. Is it our fault?”

Hotch shook his head. “Haley and I made our decisions. It was never anyone else’s problem, and it is most certainly not your fault.”

Reid wasn’t convinced.

“I don’t want to be alone right now,” he blurted out. “That’s why I’m taking you to the house. Because I can’t be alone and I need to feel like I’m doing something to help someone otherwise, what is the point in all of this?”

“This is about what the unsub said, isn’t it?”

They hadn’t had a conversation like this in so long. Not since before Hankel, his brain supplied.

“It’s true though, isn’t it? I failed to help Elle. I failed to help you, and Jason and Haley and god knows who else,” he said.

Spencer looked at him, chin tilted “You said: Haley and I made our decisions. It was never anyone else’s problem, and it is most certainly not your fault. How is this any different?”

Hotch sighed. “I had a responsibility to the other members of my team because I am meant to be their leader. You, on the other hand, are still just a kid, who has no connection whatsoever to my marriage.”

“I may be young, but I am in no way a child. And no, I didn’t have any connection to your marriage but I still don’t get your point. Elle and Gideon made their decisions of their own free will and there is nothing anyone could’ve done to stop them because when somebody is that determined to do something, they will always find a way.”

They’d pulled into the driveway. Hotch still hadn’t adjusted to the curtains still being open, for everyone to see and it took a moment to adjust to the darkness. The porch light hadn’t been on for a while, yet it was still a shock to the system. Haley’s light was just another thing he had taken for granted.

“When did you get so smart?” Hotch whispered. In some ways, he felt like he had watched as Spencer had grown from the new agent, doubting his worth and his abilities, to the slightly more confident that he had a family man that was now sat next to him. He hoped Spencer never lost his softness, or the things that made him the person he was, for there was nothing sadder.

“Hotch, I’ve always been smart. When Gideon returned after Boston, you introduced me as your expert on everything and then I told the man we were interviewing that I have an IQ of 187.”

“Never change Spencer.”

“I wouldn’t know how.”

There was a short silence.

“Would you stay the night?” Hotch asked.

“I thought that was what you wanted.”

“It is. But I want this to be your decision. If you’d rather be alone, then I will take you to your apartment and we’ll never speak about it again.”

They sat for a few minutes, and Hotch resisted the urge to tell Spencer to hurry up.

“I think I’ll stay the night,” he finally decided, voice small.

Hotch breathed a sigh of relief, not even caring that the house was still littered with small traces of Haley and the life they had spent together.

The two of them ate in relative silence, and then Hotch set them both up in the living room. He wanted- needed- to keep an eye on Spencer, but he told him that when Haley and him bought their first apartment and started living together, they would camp out in the living room because there was nobody to tell them not to.

He left out the part where it was also because Aaron had never really been allowed to sit wherever he wanted and do whatever he felt like.

There was some old documentary about the Russian Revolution in the background. Spencer had fallen asleep, his head in Hotch’s lap. Without even realising, Hotch had started stroking his hair, much like he used to do for Jack.

The light in the living room was on, and not once did Spencer wake. Hotch made them both breakfast- pancakes, because the look of joy when he said he probably had all the ingredients was not one he wanted to destroy- and Spencer gave him a genuine smile.

Neither of them spoke of it again, but Hotch felt a little lighter. A little bit more like the Aaron Haley had fallen in love with again. Maybe he couldn’t save everyone, but he saved Spencer, and even if it was only a little, and well after he should’ve, at least he had done it.

That would be enough to keep the darkness out, if only for a little bit.

Megan Kane died and Aaron- not Hotch, because Hotch would say that you can’t take cases personally, no matter how much you wanted to, held her hand. He held her hand as she said thank you for staying and not leaving. He didn’t have the words to tell her that he didn’t walk away for selfish reasons. Because he couldn’t have her considering him to be the same as the other men she’d killed.

Not after everything she’d done. The chip was safely tucked away in his pocket, just waiting to be passed on.

Even when her chest stopped rising, he refused to let go, only doing so when the police kicked the already open door to her room in, guns raised. When they stepped onto the balcony, he dropped her hand, watching as it fell limply. He didn’t know how long he had been sat there, but it was long enough for the body to go cold.

“Agent Hotchner. We need you to provide a statement. You were the only person present when she died,” the lead detective said.

Aaron stood, suddenly so angry at everything and everyone. “She took the pills and gave me the card. And then she asked me to stay so I did. Then she died. What more do you need than that?”

He didn’t want to tell them what she’d said. It was stupid, but it felt private.

He stormed out the room before they could respond and stepped into the elevator with a heavy heart.

Both Dave and Emily tried to make him feel better the whole way home. It was all to no avail. Their attempts to comfort him went over like a lead balloon. The only indication he’d even heard them was the slight clench of his jaw and his adamant stare out the window, his report on the table, only the first sentence written. When Dave tried to crack a joke, Hotch glared and he backed off.

Emily sat by him. Whilst her general presence usually never failed to make him feel a little better, it was just irritating him. He didn’t want to talk to any of them. He didn’t want them walking on eggshells. He wanted them to just leave him.

But then he felt bad. Because the one person he wanted had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want anything to do with his job, and the rest were just trying to be there for him and that should’ve been enough for him.

When they got to the office, he did something he’d only done a few times before. He put the files on his desk and then he exited it. He needed to see his son. He needed to go to his real home- because now Haley was living in the house, it felt like a home again.

Haley had responded to his message about coming by with a simple: Ok. He still felt wrong profiling her, so he didn’t.

She had changed the locks. He didn’t have the key. And so he was stood there, awkwardly waiting for her to open the door whilst he rubbed circles with his thumb over the spot where his wedding ring had previously been. The tan line had all but faded. He felt pathetic for still reaching for it sometimes.

She opened the door. “There’s a birthday party that he’s been excited about for- you’re wearing a case suit.”

“I’m- what?”

She frowned. “Why are you wearing a case suit?”

“A case suit?”

“Yes. There are suits that you would only ever wear when you were on a case because they could be washed a lot more easily, and if you got blood on them, well you weren’t attached to them. How were you not aware of this?”

“I guess it was a subconscious thing. Look, we just landed but I-” he saw Jack peeking his head around the door.

On reflex, he crouched down. He remembered how he had felt when he was younger and his father would come storming in, towering over him, terrifying and threatening. He never wanted Jack to feel like that. And so he knelt down, burying his head in Jack’s neck for a moment before letting go.

“Hi buddy. How are you feeling?”

Jack stopped smiling. “I accidentally made mommy annoyed because I drew on the wall. But then she said that sometimes people feel bad emotions and that’s okay, you just need to be good about it. And then once we cleaned it up, she said that I’m not a bad kid, I just did a wrong thing.”

Hotch felt tears prick the back of his eyes. Haley was so good. Too good.

“She’s right. One act doesn’t determine who you are,” he said, voice cracking.

“Jack, mommy and daddy need to go and talk in the kitchen, so just stay in the living room, okay?”

Jack nodded.

Hotch followed Haley, noticing the last photo that was taken of the three of them before the divorce- although at the time nobody knew- was still stuck to the fridge.

“Tell me what happened,” she whispered.

Aaron turned away. “That’s not your job anymore.”

“Baby,” she said.

He closed his eyes. When was the last time somebody had called him that?

“I know what I said then. Trust me, there’s no way I could ever forget. But I was wrong. This is who you are. And I never should’ve asked you to change. I think the divorce was the best thing for both of us, because it was needed. But I still love you. And I know you won’t tell the team. So tell me.”

And he did. He told her everything. “The worst part is, she was right. I should be here every week, but Jack’s lucky if I’m here every fortnight. Haley, I always said I didn’t want to become a father because of how he hurt me. What kind of father am I if Jack is going to say the same thing?”

For a while Haley did not speak. They were just stood, a good six feet between them. And then she threw her arms around him. The force of her touch threw him off balance. When was the last time anyone had actually touched him? If he was struggling to remember, then it must’ve been far too long.

The smell of her shampoo felt like coming home and before he knew what was happening, he could taste the salt of his tears.

She stroked his hair and he relaxed into the touch, despite all the knots. He had always hated brushing his hair but loved when Haley would run her hands through it. She messed it up as he sobbed into her shoulder, and not for the first time, she wondered how many more times he could stare into the depths of depravity and come back whole.

Although, she thought to herself bitterly, he’d never been given the chance to be whole in the first place.

At some point, they’d started sitting on the kitchen floor. She was still playing with his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything.”

“You don’t need to be. And I will spend the rest of my life convincing you of that.”

Aaron looked at her with such love in his eyes that she could not resist the urge to press a soft kiss to his forehead before tugging him closer.

“Sleep here. I’ll take Jack to the party, and you can rest. Do that paperwork that’s in your office. And maybe tomorrow, we can all go for ice cream.”

His eyes widened. They were so soft and warm that Haley had never understood how he managed to glare at anyone. Apart from the people that had offered their sympathies at his father’s funeral, despite fully well knowing the truth.

“Really?”

“Yeah Aaron. Really. Now go upstairs and rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She was, and it was like she had burst into his life in an explosion of light all over again.

Then George Foyet took that light and snuffed it out.

Haley once said she would die before Aaron hurt another person the way his father had hurt him. She said it because her death was so unlikely. It was an event that they knew would one day occur, but they never really thought about it. Though it was morbid, Aaron’s death was the one they had to prepare for. He was the one charging after dangerous criminals on a weekly basis. Haley was teaching.

Nothing bad was ever supposed to happen to her because he had promised, with everything he was, that he would keep her safe and that the horrors of his job would never touch her.

But he hadn’t been quick enough.

And now she was dead.

George Foyet had surrendered. He had surrendered willingly and without coercion, but Hotch hadn’t listened. He had carried on, even though his duty was to stop. To carry out a lawful arrest. But he hadn’t. He had carried on hitting a man that would not have been able to defend himself. Deep down he knew that was unfair to say. Foyet was taunting him by saying he was giving up.

Still, his knuckles ached. Morgan had pulled him off the body and he hadn’t been able to look. He couldn’t do it. So many things had already been destroyed by him. There was already so much blood on his hands, if he looked at Foyet he would never recover.

He was worse than his father. At least his father was a human. At least his father had never touched Sean. His father had never- to his knowledge- even attempted to beat his mother to death. But he had. He had beaten a man to death, and the worst part was, he would do it all again.

He would do it again because at least Jack was alive. Scared and confused, but alive. Hotch knew that if Jack had been the one to die, then he wouldn’t be here. He would’ve let Foyet kill him and vanish, as selfish as it was, because a life without his son was not one he wanted to live. After he found Haley, he knew he needed to consider the worst scenario: that Jack had not understood.

When Foyet told him that he would find Jack and show him his dead parents, something in him found the strength to survive. If Foyet was saying he would find Jack, then that would mean that he hadn’t already done so. Which meant Jack must’ve understood and was just waiting for his dad to come find him.

It was when Jack told him about how he had worked the case that the knowledge that Haley was dead hit him like a tonne of bricks. The first time he had found him, Jack had ran out and told his Mom what him and Daddy were doing together. Haley had smiled fondly before coming into the room, staring out the window instead of the desk.

Hotch had told her it was just a budget report. She looked down and did indeed see the budget sheet. But under that was the profile for a man who had recently lost his wife and was going after blonde mothers that resembled her.

There was blood all over his shirt and hands. Jack didn’t need to see that. The part of his brain not occupied with Haley knew that JJ was the best person for him to be with. She was good with children and had dealt with enough children of victims to know what to say and what to avoid.

Victims. Because that was what Haley had become. A victim of a serial killer and it was all his fault.

If he had just been quicker. If he had taken the deal. If he had transferred when Haley asked him to. They probably would have still ended up divorcing, but she would be alive. Jack would have a real parent. One that could look at him without turning away. Haley’s blood was on his hands, and every time he looked at Jack, he saw her. Because Jack had his mother’s light hair and kind eyes.

The day Aaron died- and god that couldn’t come fast enough- would be the day that the last piece of his father finally left the earth.

Haley’s hair was dark. That was the first thing he noticed when he saw her, lying on the ground. He’d heard people say that when someone died, you could kid yourself into thinking that they were just sleeping because they would look so peaceful.

Haley’s mouth was a thin line. She smiled when she was sleeping. Her clothes were not the ones she would have picked herself. Her eyes were still open. Aaron hated that she died alone and afraid. That should’ve been him. And her hair was dark. He cursed himself for being surprised. Of course it was dark. She’d gone into WitSec.

It just felt like a visual representation of everything he’d taken from her. Her light and innocence had been destroyed and it was all his fault. He hadn’t even told her Sam Kassmeyer was dead, which was such a stupid thing to fixate on, but anything to take away from the fact that she was gone.

When he pulled her limp, unmoving body towards him, needing to feel her against him one more time, she was still a little warm and he almost vomited right there. How close had they been that she wasn’t cold? He didn’t let go till Emily gently touched her shoulder, leading him away from the body.

The team were shielding him from the various people that had responded to the scene and if he had more energy, he would say thank you. But he was tired. And his hands hurt so much. They were still trembling.

Jack leant into his touch like it was nothing and Hotch marvelled at the fact that he seemed to adjust like it was nothing. He knew it was because he didn’t understand, but after everything that had been lost that day- two lives, a piece of Aaron, a place that was once home, the brightest light he’d ever met, Jack’s chance for a normal life- it felt like a win.

Before he knew it, the funeral was being held. He’d planned his eulogy, writing it whilst watching Jack because he couldn’t sleep without seeing the steady rise and fall of his son’s chest. There were a hundred different copies in the bin. How was he supposed to get up in front of everyone that looked to him and expected him to lead, and talk about Haley had made him feel safe?

Attending Haley’s funeral hurt more than either of his parents had. He wasn’t sure if that made him a terrible person. But when his father had died, he’d been relieved. Not happy, but maybe a little grateful. And when his mother had died, Haley had been stood next to him, her grip on his hand grounding him.

This time, she was the one in the ground. And the only person grounding him was a little boy, so much like Sean- not quite understanding, but aware enough to know the person they loved wasn’t coming home.

He held it together through his speech. Jessica gave him a soft smile before she took his place, reciting her own eulogy. Haley’s mother wasn’t able to attend because she was too unwell so her father recited both their speeches, voice cracking and tears streaming down his face.

It showed just how broken he was. No self-respecting Southern man would ever be able to shed tears that freely.

“Thank you for saying something,” Jessica said to him when they were all sat down. The team were far away enough to not hear, and he suspected that was why she had finally spoken to him.

“Jessie, this is all my fault. It was the least I could do. And I promise, I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you. To all of you.”

She let out a watery laugh. “Jessie. It’s been so long since you’ve called me that. Aar, I don’t blame you. I can’t. Because you did everything you could. I know that. And I heard you up there. You loved her. But you didn’t kill her. In fact, she’d kill me if I suggested such a thing. So forgive yourself. The rest of us have.”

“Jessica, why would you say something like that?” Roy shouted.

Jess flinched, unaware that her father had overheard everything.

Aaron shrunk down in his seat, unable to meet Roy’s eyes.

“You got my daughter killed. I trusted you. Even when nobody else did, when everybody said only bad things happened where Aaron Hotchner got involved, I trusted you. And when those people blamed you for what happened to your mother, I defended you. Because I knew you were a good man that would keep my daughter safe.”

“Dad, now is not the time,” Jessica said quietly.

“Yes it is! Yes. It is. My baby is dead, and it is all your fault. You promised me this would never happen. You swore. When your marriage died, I thought to myself: these things happen. They were young when they fell in love, perhaps they just grew up. But this- everything that has happened today? That’s on you. This is your fault. I wish it was you in the ground!”

Hotch flinched. “Roy, I-”

“It’s Mr Brooks to you now Hotchner. I treated you like a son. I- Haley did everything for you. Why weren’t you fast enough?”

And wasn’t that the million dollar question? Why had he not been fast enough?

“Dad, I know you are angry, but Aaron is not the person to be taking it out on! Just because he’s here and it is convenient does not make it right. Haley loved him until the very last moment. Shouldn’t that be enough to be good to him?”

Aaron just wanted everyone to stop shouting.

“She didn’t love him at the very last moment! How could she, after everything he put her through?”

“It is Hotchner going on the gravestone, not Brooks,” Jessica snapped.

Both Roy and Aaron stared at her. Neither of them had known about that, and she immediately paled, as though she’d revealed something she wasn’t meant to.

“What?” Roy spat.

“Haley called mom in the middle of the night in a panic. Said that if, somehow, this Foyet managed to find them, or if something happened, she wanted Hotchner to be on her gravestone because she loved Aaron.”

Roy’s hands were clenched at his sides and Aaron swallowed, subconsciously bracing himself for the blow that never came.

“I won’t do that to you. Ever. You may not be my son anymore, but I still would not harm you.”

Hotch exhaled, but Roy walked away before he could say anything. And the team got called away on a case.

“Did she really say that?” he asked Jessica, when it was just the two of them and their mugs of coffee. Jack had gone to sleep.

Jessica tore her gaze away from the carpet. Derek had done an incredible job of making it seem like nothing happened, but she now knew better and the thought of what had gone down made her sick. She wished she could convince Aaron to move, but she knew it would never work.

“Jess?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. She did. I was going to say something to you earlier but it completely slipped my mind. I hope that’s okay with you.”

He nodded. Of course it would be okay with him. Whatever Haley had wanted from him, he would give her. It would be too little too late, but it would still be something. Maybe it would lead to Roy’s forgiveness.

It was that line of reasoning that led to him almost accepting retirement, because what else was he meant to do? But then Jessica had offered to take Jack, saying it was the least she could do and that it wouldn’t be any trouble and he had been confused.

The gravestone hadn’t been placed yet, but he still knew where she was buried. That surprised him, because now that he thought about it, he couldn’t really remember the actual funeral. He just remembered Roy’s words. Aaron found himself talking to the air in a way he never had before, and by the time Dave found him, he’d made his decision.

Jack needed a father that could teach him how to move on and be happy. Aaron needed the team to be happy. Jessica had given her blessing, and maybe it was psychological, but everything felt a little warmer after he told his best friend that Haley already knew.

It didn’t mean he was confident that he was making the right choice. It was ridiculous, but he was terrified of how the team would respond. What if they thought he was making the wrong choice?

But on his first day in the office, they all treated him normally. Like nothing had changed. And for that, he was grateful. Emily was- as always- the only one aside from Dave with the self-destructive streak to make a comment.

Although it wasn’t the one he’d been expecting.

“I’m glad you came back,” she told him as he packed up his things to go.

There was a look in her eyes that told him she was being genuine. Her approval, deep down, meant more to him than everyone else’s, including Dave. For her to come in and say that she was happy he was there and leading the team meant more to him than he would ever be able to say. It also showed how far they had come. She had gone from insulting him every other sentence to wanting him around. He had gone from not trusting her to only being able to tell her the truth about what had really happened in his apartment.

“Thank you for letting me,” he said. If she had wanted it, she could have taken his job, no question. She wouldn’t- Derek was obviously the next Unit Chief- but she could have.

She smiled. “You keep us all safe, Aaron. How could I not?”

Emily’s hair was dark. As were her eyes. And there was a darkness that surrounded her in a similar way to him. He wasn’t sure where it came from. But she had learnt to live with hers. She had turned it into something beautiful that made people love her.

Perhaps he could do the same. Perhaps the darkness was something to welcome, not fear.

Emily Prentiss died, alone and cold, three times in one night. She died once when she told Derek Morgan to let her go because she genuinely believed Ian Doyle was still there, just waiting to hurt the people that had become her family. She flatlined in the ambulance, and Aaron had to watch as they frantically tried to revive her.

They succeeded in doing so, but at what cost?

She died a third time when Hotch had to make the decision as to whether or not she stayed. He wanted to scream at the bureau and say that it couldn’t be left to him because it was Emily’s life and if she wanted to stay and fight then she should.

But they would interpret his screaming and pleading as weakness. They would use it to deem him incapable of impartiality and then he would never know what happened. So instead of crying the way he wanted to, he kept his face neutral and argued all the reasons that Agent Prentiss- not Emily, not now- needed to be sent away and saved.

They went for it, and the prosecutor within him should have been proud. But it wasn’t. He was just tired.

Emily did not know that he had been in the ambulance and seen her die. She didn’t know that she had told him, whilst she was fading in and out of consciousness, about the darkness that she had seen and the chill that had come over her when she realised that she was dying or that he knew she wanted to believe in a better ending.

But Aaron did. It was why he found it so difficult to tell her what was happening. But he was already asking too much of JJ. JJ who was supposed to be a liaison for the state department and nothing more. But there was a haunted look in her eyes, and he so desperately wanted to comfort her, but there just wasn’t time.

He needed to save Emily before it was too late. Or maybe it already was too late. Maybe she would have survived if his own darkness hadn’t joined hers. Maybe if he’d been quicker in getting JJ or working out what had happened.

The moment he saw his own smiling face staring up at him, he should have known what was happening. But he hadn’t. And now yet another person’s blood was on his hands. When would it end? When would the people he loved stop being hurt by a darkness that should have only ever destroyed him?

His father once said the only thing he was good at was destroying beautiful things. Aaron had so desperately wanted to prove him wrong that he only succeeded in proving him right. Emily Prentiss had once been beautiful and good. One of the strongest and most resilient women he knew.

Hotch wasn’t stupid. He saw the way JJ looked at her. That was the other reason he had to be the one to tell her. Because he had seen Jason in the aftermath of the Boston bombing and Elle after she shot the rapist. He knew what Spencer’s anger and Derek’s fear looked like. He had seen the worst of each of his team members and never faltered because their darkness was nothing compared to his.

The Emily laying on that bed, broken and damaged beyond what any normal person should have been able to survive, was not the Emily they knew and Hotch was not going to let it be the Emily that JJ would remember. He would let JJ go with her to Paris because she would be stronger then.

That would be the Emily she would remember.

“Emily? Can you hear me?” he asked as quietly as he could.

She turned slightly, but even that small movement seemed to cause her pain. She opened her mouth to speak and winced.

“Don’t talk. You’re still too weak to do that. I just, I need to tell you what’s going to happen, okay? Because a lot of things are going to change and I want you to know exactly how this is going to play out.”

His hands were shoved in his pockets. One of them needed to be strong and pretend that everything was going to be okay, and it sure as hell couldn’t be her. But she saw and tried to motion to him. He shook his head. Soon she would be leaving him, and he did not want to remember her touch as being cold and almost lifeless. He wanted to remember her touch as being warm and comforting.

Without looking at her, he told her how they were sending her to Paris. His voice did not tremble and he did not break but he couldn’t face her when he was done talking. Instead, he stared at the floor and focused on the white tiles.

“I hate you,” she whispered. “How can you do this to me? I do not want to be sent to Paris whilst everyone else tries to deal with this.”

“Em. I’m trying to do the right thing,” he pleaded. He couldn’t have her hating him. Not after everything that had happened between them, and certainly not everything they had both done to gain the others trust.

“The right thing would have been to let me die,” she hissed.

He closed his eyes and it was only a few days earlier. He had told Clyde Easter that if anything happened to her, he would destroy him. The knowledge that he could do it without even flinching should have terrified him, but it didn’t. In some morbid way, it relaxed him.

When he turned his back, the knowledge that he had disarmed the other man bought him more joy than it should have, and again he was reminded of how thin the line between profiler and unsub really was.

“Mr Hotchner,” Clyde had called out.

Hotch had frozen, hands clenched at his side. How many years had it been since someone last called him that? And yet he still couldn’t hear the title without thinking of his father. He was an adult now, the man shouldn’t have held that influence over him but he was still terrified and he hated himself for it.

He’d turned, just enough so he could see Clyde’s face.

“I did my part. If she dies, that’s on you.”

And it was. It was all his fault. She had trusted him to keep them safe, but he had failed. Again. He had destroyed her, just like he had destroyed so many other good people. He didn’t deserve to be a coward anymore, so he looked up and met her eyes.

Weak and damaged as she was, she still managed to glare with a hatred he had only ever seen once. When she had been a college student, arguing with her mother. And he’d been both terrified and relieved to see that she could be so ruthless. Terrified because to him, she was just a girl and she shouldn’t have known how to hate like that, but relieved because he wasn’t the only one with such potential for darkness inside.

He left without another word. JJ had comforted Reid and Garcia because he had been too busy throwing up the single bite of sandwich he’d managed to choke down. And he knew something had happened to her whilst she was working for the Pentagon. He knew she wouldn’t be able to stay.

It was why he let her take Emily to Paris. He didn’t tell her what Emily had said to him. He just told her to ask if she could remember anything from the hospital. He spent the entire time waiting for her to respond. He was talking to Dave when there was a text from JJ. All it said was she doesn’t remember anything she said.

And it became slightly easier to breathe.

The funeral was difficult.

First thing in the morning, he had dropped Jack off with Jessica. Jack did not know it was a funeral that his father was attending, and so he was quite content to just sit in the living room and play with his toys whilst Aaron and Jessica stood in the hallway, talking in hushed whispers.

“Don’t you think he should go?” she had asked.

Hotch shook his head. “No. He already went to Haley’s. I can’t take him to Emily’s.”

“But he should be able to say goodbye to her.”

“Jessie, please. I can’t tell you why, but he can’t go to the funeral and I swear, as soon as I can, I will tell you everything but he just- I need him to not be there.”

She stared at him. “Aaron, you never need to beg for anything from me. I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is, you’ll be fine. I promise.”

Jessica didn’t understand that him and JJ were the only one that knew the coffin was empty. It was the second coffin in a year that Aaron was forced to stand beside. When did it end? When would the members of his team stop losing the people they loved?

Ashley Seaver was a child and he never should have let her stay on the team after that first case. She was meant to be a training agent, who was supposed to believe that her job would make a difference and protect people from a life like the one she had been forced to live. And yet here she was, stood at the grave of a team member whilst the rest fell apart. Hotch wanted her to remain good and hopeful, but he just didn’t know how to do that.

In some ways, he resented JJ. She was able to go back to the Pentagon and get away from the looks of her coworkers. She didn’t have to look out of her office and see the empty table that had once been Emily’s, nor did she have to go through the drawers of her desk and decide what would be kept and what would be thrown.

Aaron ended up keeping everything in a box at his apartment because he didn’t have the heart to throw anything away. Not when Emily wasn’t really dead, even though her photo was still hung up outside.

He needed to talk to someone, but there was nobody. So, he ran off to Afghanistan for three months working on a project he didn’t fully understand or see the point in. The guilt at leaving his team and Jack only slightly overshadowed the relief he had that nobody looked at him and seeked comfort. They just needed him to do a job.

Everybody else had grieved losing Emily. JJ had her closure for making sure she was settled in Paris, and from what Hotch could understand, she had been pushing the boundary as much as she could regarding the no communication rule. The team had each other, but he had nobody.

Then Ian Doyle died, and Emily Prentiss came back to them, but he didn’t come back to the team. Not really. For Derek was able to forgive Emily for what she did because the relief he felt at her return was enough to overpower his anger at her. Dave had suspected the whole time. Spencer was just glad that he hadn’t lost someone else, and that JJ had also been returned to them.

They could forgive JJ because it had never been her decision to leave them. They could forgive Emily because of everything she had been through and because she had no say in what was done to her.

It was Hotch that had failed to stop the move from happening. It was him that had made the decision to fake Emily’s death and not tell the team. He had chosen to leave them, and his son, for the summer. Yes, it was unfair to blame him, and it was likely his hands had been tied, but they were angry. They needed someone to direct that anger towards.

Every time they snapped at JJ or Emily, it felt like kicking a puppy for they would just look so hurt and upset that they immediately wanted to apologise. But if they shouted at Aaron, he would just take it. He wouldn’t argue or defend himself. He just took it, the ghosts behind his eyes not ones they could acknowledge in the moment.

He maintained his façade and pretended everything was okay because if he wasn’t okay, the team would have no use for him and he would become dispensable and there would be nothing left for him. Except for Jack. But he wasn’t sure how much he wanted Jack to see him. Since Emily’s return, his nightmares had gotten worse and he woke up screaming more times than he cared to admit.

And then one night, when Jack was staying with his cousins and grandfather, the nightmares got so bad that he barely managed to make it to the bathroom before he was vomiting up the meagre dinner he’d eaten.

When there was nothing left, he leant against the bathtub and sobbed. His own team hated him and there was nothing he could do because they were right. He didn’t trust them and he had fucked up so badly there was no redemption for him.

Jessica hadn’t been able to sleep. She had let herself into the apartment to see how Aaron was because there was a pit in her stomach, like something was terribly wrong.

“Aaron?” she called out.

There was no response, which on the one hand could have been a good thing because it would mean he was sleeping, but it could also mean he was refusing to speak to anyone. She wasn’t an idiot. When Emily had come to see Jack after that hearing thing because she needed something good, Aaron told her the truth. And then lied by saying he was fine after carrying that burden around himself.

The bedroom was empty. She told herself it didn’t mean anything, that he could just be in the shower or getting a glass of water. She crept along to the bathroom. Inside, he was vomiting and she knew it would eventually turn into sobs.

Without considering what she was doing, she dialled Derek Morgan’s number. He’d given it to her at the funeral and asked her to keep him safe. She had done her job as his sister, and now it was time for his team to their job as his family.

“Jessica?”

“Aaron’s sick and I think it’s your fault,” she said without thinking.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh god, no, not like that. I just- he’s being sick and I know that it’s because he’s been bottling everything up since the funeral which wasn’t really a funeral but oh, you know what I mean. I just- nothing I do will make him feel better. He needs you. All of you.”

On the other side of the line, Derek scoffed. “Jessica, Hotch is strong. Are you sure he’s not just got food poisoning or something?”

“I don’t think he’s eaten enough for that to happen.”

“Look Jessica, I’ll get the team together but I don’t know what you want us to do. Hotch made his decisions, and we can’t forgive him at the drop of a hat. We all need time to process.”

“Derek! He lost his wife to this job, are you really going to stand by as he loses himself trying to save all of you? I have never asked for anything from any of you, but Aaron needs you now. He’s just too scared of rejection to admit it.”

“We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Morgan hung up and Jessica sighed.

“Jessie?” Aaron called out.

“Hey Aaron. What happened?” she asked, acting like nothing had happened.

“I don’t feel good,” he whispered.

She pressed a hand to his stomach. Damn him and his emotional constipation that meant all of his pain manifested physically.

“I know. I know. But it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. I’ll get you cleaned up and then you’re going to eat something.”

He nodded and let her move him around as she pleased. The weight he had lost made her cringe. The last time he had looked so weak, he was seventeen and his father was dying of lung cancer.

The team all arrived at the same time, all in their pyjamas.

Aaron saw them and turned away. “Jessie, what are they doing here?”

“You need them Aaron. Whether you want to admit it or not, you need them.”

He shook his head as the medication Jessica had made him take after weeks of avoidance caused his filter to vanish and fuzziness as to what he was doing. “Don’t deserve them.”

“Yeah you do man. I’m sorry for how I was acting. I know you trust us and I never thought about how everything must have made you feel because I was angry,” Derek said.

Hotch shook his head, tears running down his cheeks.

“Can I hug you?” Derek asked.

Hotch didn’t respond, so Derek sat in front of him instead. “You’re forgiven Hotch. I promise.”

Hotch just stared but relaxed ever so slightly and didn’t protest when the other members of the team gave him small smiles or hugged him.

And the next day, they spoke to him, not as a boss, but as their friend. For the first time in a while, he felt like he was back where he belonged. Things weren’t perfect- they never were- but he no longer felt like the villain in his own story.

He felt like he was worthy of a small amount of love, which meant the darkness had not won. Not completely.

There were cases that were difficult. There were cases that made him want to quit, or curl into a ball and forget about how the outside world existed and was constantly hurt innocent people that didn’t deserve it. And there were cases that he knew would haunt him until the day he died.

Watching Jimmy lose his fight, the one thing that kept him going, just so he would be able to see his son one last time was something he would keep seeing every time he closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about how he was the first one to realise that was what he wanted.

The team had all been waiting in various places, and he knew it wasn’t really what he was supposed to be doing, but when he looked into the man’s eyes, he saw a desperate father. And he thought of Jack. If it were Jack, he would do whatever it took to see him one last time. He deserved to see his son. And his son deserved a father.

Because when he looked at Jimmy he did not see the unsub his team had been after. He saw a broken and damaged man that was doing what it took to survive. Under normal circumstances, he’d been frightened by that but so much had happened that he almost felt desensitised when it came to relating to unsubs. His hands still went cold at the sight of every crime scene he visited. The bureau therapist would say the fact that he clung to that feeling both at home and in the field was unhealthy, but the bureau therapist had also deemed Jason, Elle, Spencer, himself and Emily fit for work after their respective ordeals.

“This isn’t a trick is it? Because you’re a federal agent, this isn’t your job,” he said.

“I’m a father first. And your son is holding on so he can say goodbye to you. I’m not so heartless that I would deprive you of a goodbye.”

He pressed a hand to his mouth. “He’s really going to- I can’t even bring myself to say the word. Am I a horrible person for not being here sooner?”

Hotch still blamed himself for not being there when his mother died. “No. No you did your best and you cannot think like that. I promise, when it came to your son, you have done nothing wrong. I’ll give you some privacy.” He hated to add the second part but he had to. “And I don’t want to, but you must understand-”

“I broke the law and you need to arrest me. I know. That’s fine. Everything will be fine because you have let me say goodbye to my baby.”

Aaron watched them through the window, a single tear coursing down his cheek as that was all he would allow himself until he made it home.

Sometimes, it was not the cases that made him question the reason behind doing any of this, but these moments where there was nothing that anyone could have done. They spent so much time putting bad guys away, and for what? The universe to just throw other tragedies in people’s faces.

Ryan closed his eyes at the same time that Aaron looked away. The raw grief both parents were feeling was something personal. He already felt like an intruder. He saw the man comfort his wife, who’s sobs had died down to silent tears as she placed a final kiss to her boy’s forehead.

They comforted each other.

Aaron wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t saved Jack from George Foyet. If he would still be alive now, or if he would have just let Foyet kill him because a life without Jack was not one he was capable of surviving. He wondered if Haley had survived instead, would they have been able to comfort each other, or would she blame him for the loss of her son? If Jack hadn’t survived, Hotch did not want to think of what his response would have been because the darkness of it scared him.

No parent should ever have to bury their child, and no child should ever have to be that strong for their parent. He admired Ryan for holding on for as long as he did, but he shouldn’t have had to. He should have been playing games with the other children and worrying about his favourite cartoon characters, not how many breaths he had left.

He stood outside for longer than he should have and he was gentler with the handcuffs than he ever remembered being. The last words he whispered were an apology that Jimmy did not want. Before he returned to the hotel, he stopped to see his wife.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “And if I knew what to say, I would. But I don’t so please, just, find a reason to hold on. Anything.”

“Agent Hotchner, you gave my son the one thing he wanted. A chance to say goodbye to both his parents. That has to be enough for now.” She hugged him and was polite enough to not comment on how his own body shook with the tears he was unable to repress.

He gave her his card, and then he left her, alone, to process her losses.

On board the jet, he sat slightly apart from the rest of them, which they all took as their cue to leave him alone. Emily Prentiss had never liked listening to him, and so she took the seat opposite him. Hotch had to smile. That was the woman he knew. Not the one that was overcompensating for everything.

“I made you a cup of tea,” she said to him.

Hotch looked down at the mug and grimaced slightly.

“Jason did the same thing after the case with the serial arsonist. Do you remember? He was trying to get me to open up about how I related to the unsub.”

“Did you?”

Hotch shook his head, then hesitated. “Well, I suppose I did a little. He wasn’t really paying attention.”

Emily made a non-committal sound at that. “Look I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

He shook his head. “No. I can’t. Ryan just- he didn’t even look like Jack, but when I saw him, I just- they were a normal couple. They didn’t deserve to lose him like that.”

“Nobody deserves to lose someone they love that much like that. But they do. And we can’t stop that. What we can do is stop the bad guys who hurt other people and we do, whenever we can. Please don’t beat yourself up over this.”

He understood what she was saying, but he couldn’t accept it. Haley had been too good for him, and he deserved to have everything good taken from him because he hadn’t been able to save her when it had been his fault that she was forced into that situation.

She smirked. “And Rossi may have mentioned a woman making her way into your life. Beth is it?”

Hotch rolled his eyes. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. And it is just a bike ride.”

“You should go. Even if nothing happens, training is better with a partner. And you won’t be betraying Haley. Or Jack. If this thing works out, it will be because Beth understands that Jack doesn’t want or need another mom.”

Hotch looked at her with soft eyes. “Yeah. Maybe I should go.”

He did, and it was such a success that they ended up going on more than one date. She was excited to meet Jack, and they both loved each other. Even the team, who were always weary of potential partners, seemed to accept her as one of their own.

It momentarily convinced him that love could survive the horrors of their job.

The sound of the gun that Diane Turner shot herself and Maeve Donovan with sounded louder than even the three shots he had heard over the phone when George Foyet took Haley from him. His ear started ringing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alex close hers and lower her gun.

What had been thinking? Alex had already lost a son, and every case put the one she had just found at risk. Even now, she had the sense to look away. He was still holding his gun like there was something he could do.

Before he was aware of his actions, he had dropped it. Something that he always told people not to do, especially if the safety was off because you just couldn’t guarantee anything. The sound it made as it hit the ground was still nothing compared to Spencer’s sobbing.

Reid was on his knees, eyes closed as though that would stop him from seeing Maeve’s dead body, both her and Diane’s forming a pool around them. It would be another funeral for him to attend. It wasn’t fair. Reid was still just a kid compared to the rest of them, he didn’t deserve to see all the things he had been subjected to.

Hotch knelt beside him. “Reid?” he whispered, keeping his voice as soft as quiet as he could.

Reid shook his head. “It’s my fault. I should’ve done something. There were so many different endings to this series of events and at least half of them involved Maeve living and me dying, which is something everyone could have learnt to live with.”

“Spencer. That isn’t true,” he said, a lot more firmly.

Spencer’s sobs had calmed to hiccups. “It wasn’t supposed to be her.”

“I know,” he said, and he wrapped his arms around him. He felt Reid go limp against him as more sobs wracked his body. Reid was resting his head on Hotch’s shoulder and on instinct, he felt himself stroke the younger one’s hair, the same way he did to Jack when the little one couldn’t sleep.

He knew that grief caused people to go numb. When Reid pulled away, he kept one hand on his arm to stop him from being an idiot. Only Alex was still there, hovering by the side lines. The others had gone to stop the police from coming in too soon. They were giving Spencer the space to process.

Hotch wished they hadn’t. Jason and Emily were the ones that Reid turned to when he needed something. And if not them, then Derek and maybe JJ. But Jason and Emily were gone and Derek and JJ were dealing with other things.

And he was the only one who’s partner had ever been murdered by an unsub. He just didn’t know how to provide comfort. He didn’t know how he was supposed to tell Spencer that everything was going to be fun and he would recover because the truth was that he would never be the same. Aaron still wasn’t the same. It wasn’t possible, but sometimes his lower torso still ached the same way it had when Foyet first pushed the knife in. He wouldn’t lie to Spencer, but he couldn’t tell him the truth.

“I need- I never got to hold her. I need to hold her. Hotch let me go! I need to hold her, just once. Just once so I can remember her.”

The last time Hotch touched Haley, she was barely warm, but still lifeless. It overshadowed every single casual touch they’d shared since they were seventeen and it was all he could ever think of when he remembered her. He would give anything to forget the last time he held her.

Perhaps one day he would. But Spencer had an eidetic memory.

“I can’t let you do that,” he said.

Spencer shoved him. He wasn’t strong enough to knock him over, but Hotch hadn’t been expecting it and he lost his balance slightly. They both looked down at Reid’s hands. Reid looked at them like he couldn’t believe they were part of his body. Hotch looked down at how pure they were.

Reid had killed unsubs when it was the only way to save other people, but he was still innocent in so many other ways. He’d never hit the table to intimidate a suspect because that was Hotch’s job. He was the one that played bad cop, whilst they trusted Reid to successfully empathise.

Reid had never killed a man with their bare hands.

Hotch momentarily let go of Reid, and Reid tried to use that opportunity to grab Maeve’s hand. But Hotch was quicker, and before Spencer knew what was going on, Hotch had grabbed both his wrists and was holding them in front of his chest.

Both their eyes shone with tears.

“Let me go,” Spencer begged.

“No. Spencer listen to me. You don’t want your one and only memory of her touch to be when she couldn’t respond. You know better than me that she is going to be unresponsive. You won’t be able to kid yourself into thinking that she did indeed clasp your hand. Her perfume will be tinged with the stench of blood and she will be cold. Remember Maeve as the woman that made you smile. That was warm and bright. Not like this.”

Spencer relaxed against him, the tears falling. Hotch pulled him closer, holding him tight. At some point, Alex crept forward and gave the two of them a hug. She told them they needed to go. Reid shook his head. Between the two of them, they managed to get him down the stairs.

“I want to go to my apartment,” Reid stated after they took his statement. Hotch had sat with him the whole time. Reid’s monotony scared him and he wondered if the look on the officer’s face was the same as the one that been on Strauss’ after he spoke about Foyet.

“Spence,” JJ said, reaching for him.

“My apartment. Please. Hotch?”

Hotch knew why Reid had asked for it to be him. Because if he declined, Reid could come after him. Say that when Haley died, leaving behind a young son whose memories of his father were patchy and disrupted, Hotch had refused to stay with anyone. Instead, he had sat in the darkness of his apartment in case the monsters from Jack’s dreams came to life once more.

“If you need anything,” he said with a sigh, because he was the only one that understood.

Spencer nodded. But Hotch knew he wouldn’t.

They drove in silence. Hotch itched to say something but what? He understood what it was like to lose the one person that made your life better, but at the end of the day, he hadn’t been there. He had heard it over the phone. Spencer would see the images every time he closed his eyes.

“Would you like me to come up with you?” he asked.

Reid shook his head, exited the car but did not close the door.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t quick enough,” Hotch mumbled.

Reid’s pause meant he heard him. His lack of response meant he didn’t have any words of comfort that would not be lies. Perhaps that hurt more than Jessica’s sad smile when he got him and distractedly ruffled Jack’s hair, unable to focus on what he was saying properly.

He’d made the right decision in not letting Spencer touch the body. He knew he had. It didn’t stop him from wrapping Jack up in the coat Haley had picked and going to her grave. He knew Jack was missing his mom, so the trip served a dual purpose.

Jack liked to lay flowers at the graves that didn’t have any because- in his words- it would mean everyone would be as happy as his mommy was. As he did that, Hotch spoke.

“I didn’t let him touch her. I need to convince myself that was the right thing, but what if it wasn’t? I have years of touches to hold onto. He had never met her before then. What if one day, he wakes up and resents me because he can’t even imagine what she feels like?”

If Haley were alive, she would rub his shoulder and tell him he was a good man that needed to stop doubting every decision he made because he knew his team better than they knew themselves and that Reid would never hate him.

Be annoyed at him for specific things he did and lash out because he was in the wrong, yes. But hate him? Never.

Only Haley wasn’t alive. Hotch sighed, called Jack over and hesitated slightly when Jack held his hand out. Hours before, he had been holding a gun, ready to fire. He hadn’t been fast enough, and now another piece of Spencer had been lost to the abyss.

When Spencer didn’t return to work immediately, he was relieved. At least he was taking the time he needed to grieve and recover instead of rushing back and never dealing with the pain until it got so bad he could hardly breathe without holding back a sob.

He turned up on their case. Everyone else was excited to see him, because it meant he was alive. Hotch wasn’t so sure. Reid had never known anything other than the BAU, and that was partially his fault for not putting his foot down and telling Gideon the kid needed more experience before working as a profiler.

But there were people that needed saving, so he let it go.

And then he heard Spencer tell Dave how he wasn’t sleeping because he kept seeing Maeve asking him to dance but he had never been able to touch her. It was like a punch to the gut. Spencer had never touched Maeve because Hotch had told him not to, and now he was paying the price.

He didn’t hear Dave’s response. He used that moment to tell Alex he needed the bathroom. She seemed slightly taken aback but shifted out the way for him.

When Spencer came in after that, he seemed peaceful. He had danced with Maeve. Now, even though it wasn’t real, he had his closure because he’d been able to touch her, which was all he had wanted. Maybe it had something to do with being touch-starved.

Hotch thought of Haley. What would he give to see her one last time? Just to say he was sorry?

He was telling the team about a missing girl, but it was getting harder to breathe, and he couldn’t make out what the screen in front of him was displaying.

Before he knew what was happening, the world around him was going black and the frantic shouts of his team were not enough to bring him back.

When he opened his eyes, he saw her.

“Haley?” he whispered.

She looked beautiful. Her dress shone, and her hair was the same blonde it had been the day she’d gone into witness protection. She looked like the girl that had exploded into his life and taught him how to say I love you. That had taught him the meaning of light and who had changed his life forever.

“Hi baby,” she said with a grin.

He smiled. His light had come back to him.

70 notes · View notes

ververa · 4 years

Text

Twist In The Sobriety

Request: something sweet and fluff with mina about her insecurity and reader being understanding and saying that she loves her, you can take it wherever you want, smutt or not, I would just love something sweet.

A/N:@honeysorwell I hope this can do! Sorry if this is shit. Also I’m deeply sorry it took me so long. I’m just really discouraged and I’m kind of struggling rn. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

Wilhemina Venable x reader

Word count: 5 500

Wilhemina Venable was a professor of literature, who held the position of pro-rector for over two years. Wilhemina was known as a very strict, demanding and cynical woman. Some even considered her mean. She was respected by other professors and hated by students, as she was the one ‘ruining’ their plans. She came off as an unapproachable woman, who had a heart of stone and no mercy. She always wore dark purple or black suits, had her dark hair pulled back in a bun and she never smiled. Most people felt intimidated by her, but you were fascinated. For you she was the most perfect woman you had ever seen. You really wanted to get to know her, but it wasn’t possible. Wilhemina spent most of the time in her office and you only saw her passing by from time to time. Though you were very observant, so you obviously made some assumptions.

You hoped that one day you would be able to meet her. You were fantasizing about how your first meeting could go, though none of those scenarios came true. The reality totally surprised you as you met her when you least expected it.

Wilhemina rarely had classes, she almost completely gave up on teaching after she became a pro-rector. She did lectures for a small group of students, who displayed advanced level of required subjects. Other than that Wilhemina barely left her office and if she did - it was only to inspect the condition of the university and to check if certain rules were followed by students and professors.

It was one of those days, when she actually got bored. She decided it was a good time to inspect one of her colleagues. In fact, Wilhemina didn’t care about what was going on in the classrooms as long as no rules were broken. She usually went there only to make herself feel better or eventually meet those students who were noticeably superior to the group.

She had heard quite a lot about you from other professors. They were always praising you and she got a bit curious. It had been a long time since anyone managed to make any impression on her. It was really hard to do it, and she started believing that no one and nothing could ever impress her again. Yet then she met you.

You had a lecture with one of the professors that you truly despised. The man was over 50 years old. He was arrogant and overconfident, but what you hated the most about him was that he had no respect for women. He kept insulting and abusing female students for years, though none of them was brave enough to stand up to him. That was until you. You had been brought up in a family of lawyers, so holding various kinds of discussion was something that you had been taught for years. You had no trouble objecting him and then finding arguments to prove your point. Normally you tried to control yourself and be respectful, but that time was different. That time you got too angry to hold yourself back.

Wilhemina didn’t like to rush. She took her time getting to the right classroom and used the back door, so as not to interrupt. She had expected yet another boring lecture, but to her surprise she found you arguing with her colleague.

“I fail to understand how some of you, men, can be so narrow-minded. You classify women only in two categories - fuckable and non-fuckable. But let me tell you, there is more than that”

Venable scanned the room trying to understand what was going on. She decided not to interfere, because your speech sounded pretty interesting and promiscuous.

“Let’s take Miss Venable for example. You are all sure that you know her, but the truth is you only get to see the surface layer. And you are too oblivious and unintelligent to even consider that there is something more. In result you totally misunderstand her and perceive her in a wrong way”

“That’s enough. Sit down Y/N”

“No”

“Sit down!”

“I’ll sit when I’m done”

“You’ll regret it. You’ll get punish for your insubordination”

“It’s not insubordination. We’re just having a discussion and you’re calling it an ‘insubordination’, because I’m right and you don’t have any arguments. But of course, I understand it’s hard to admit that you’re just a fool with a low self-esteem, who tries to compensate for it by using young students and turning their life into hell if they refuse to have sex with you”

“Miss Y/L/N as a future lawyer you should know how to keep your head right, but apparently you’re not able to. I’ll not tolerate such behaviour in my classes. That’s why I think you can’t continue the course”

“Oh, I’m very calm. It’s you who takes it personal and reacts emotionally, because you can’t stand the fact that women can be more powerful. What hurts you the most is that you’re intimidated by us, by Miss Venable. And if that wasn’t enough she also took the position that you aspired to hold. And now I beat you, using the right arguments - the same as she beat you thanks to her qualifications. But of course, it’s our fault, because as women we’re supposed to serve you. I’m sorry to inform you, but the medieval times are over”

Wilhemina stood there shocked. She finally understood why everyone was talking about you. She hadn’t heard such kind of argument in a while. And you talking about her in such a way truly impressed her. Of course Wilhemina wasn’t the type of person who would admit that you made her speechless, so she composed herself and slowly approached you.

“Oh, and one more thing” you continued not realizing Wilhemina was there “Next time I find out you tried to abuse any woman, I’ll report you to Miss Venable. You’ll have a chance to ask how she's doing...”

“I’m good. Thank you” Wilhemina said as calm as possible - trying to hide her amusement

You slowly turned round only to see her looking at you.

“Miss Venable…”

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you”

“That’s… umm… that’s my pleasure” you said a bit dumbfounded

“Wilhemina… I can explain” your professor began

Venable said nothing, but you could notice how her hand clenched on her cane. She slowly approached the man and looked into his eyes.

“It’s Miss Venable” she emphasized her name hitting her cane on the floor “I'll make it clear, so there will be no misunderstandings. I’m truly disgusted. Your explanations do not interest me at all. And you can be sure I’ll raise this issue during the meeting of the school board”

You didn’t expect her to be there. You didn't necessarily want her to hear what you said and you obviously didn’t know how to act after that. Normally you would come up with something, but Wilhemina gave you no time.

“Miss Y/L/N” she moved closer to you

Venable looked at you, but you didn't lower your eyes like your professor. It felt weird - almost as if her big brown eyes could look right through your soul, but you held her stare anyway.

That was unexpected. Her stare was like a weapon. It made everyone feel intimidated and thereby proved that Wilhemina was in power. Everyone always averted their eyes, except for you.

“Miss Y/N would you care to follow me to my office?” she asked, but by the tone she used you could tell it was an order not a question or request

“O-of course”

You followed Venable - counting all the tiles on the floor on your way, trying to compose yourself. Being alone with her had been something you wanted, but you weren’t really sure where that could go at that point.

“Sit down” she demanded and you did it immediately - this time not needed to be told twice. Wilhemina sat down as well and looked at you carelessly swiveling her cane.

“So…” you started after a moment of silence that for you seemed to be a bit too long

“So” she repeated doing her best to contain her amusement with your nervousness

You were looking everywhere, but her face. Yet even though you weren't looking at her, you could feel her eyes on you. You shifted feeling slightly insecure under her stern gaze.

“You are quite a unique specimen, aren’t you Miss Y/N?”

“I… I guess I am...” you said scratching the back of your head

“I must say, I’m pretty impressed with your gift of the gab”

“Well… I must say, I wasn’t quite expecting you to hear all that?”

“Why is that? I’m glad I did. Though, I really felt quite distressed learning some of those things”

“Umm… Does that mean I won’t be expelled or suspended?”

“Oh, of course not. We can’t let ourselves lose such precious students as you”

Your eyes widened. That definitely was the last thing you had expected to hear.

“Of course, it’s understandable if you won’t want to attend Mr Smith’s classes. And if that’s the case, I’d help you to prepare for the exam instead”

“Yes. That’d be great!” you exclaimed probably a bit too enthusiastically “I mean I’d really appreciate it, Miss Venable”

Wilhemina nodded. She didn’t show any kind of emotion, but she seemed pretty pleased with your response.

“Alright then. We shall start on Monday. Meet me at the library. 8 a.m. and don’t be late”

Going to the university wasn’t a dream come true for you - at least not at that time. You wanted to take a gap year and travel. You wanted to see the world, meet people, party, fall in love. Though your parents were against your idea. They basically made you go to the university and study law. They had already had everything planned for you. You were supposed to become a lawyer, just like your father and then work in his office. That for sure was a good plan, but nobody asked you if that was what you wanted. It obviously wasn’t and you hated it. All the lectures were boring and most of your professors were assholes. That’s why spending time at the university was like a torture for you. Though after you started your lessons with Wilhemina it became more bearable.

You weren’t wrong saying that there was more than Venable let people see. And whether she liked it or not, you noticed everything. Every little detail about her. From the way she moved or shift her cane to the changes in her voice tone when she spoke. You could see beyond the thick walls she had been building her whole life and you absolutely loved every second of getting to know her better. She was an incredibly intelligent, independent and strong woman. She always talked so passionately about all the things related to the subject she was teaching. And even though law wasn’t really her thing, she was doing a really good job teaching you and helping with all the stuff. In fact she was better than your other professor. You loved listening to her calm voice and it didn’t really matter what she was talking about. Just the fact it was no other than Wilhemina Venable made even the most boring thing interesting.

Wilhemina couldn’t deny that you were full of surprises. After everything she had been through in her life she didn’t think there was anything more that could make her feel astonished, but there you were. You were an eloquent and ambitious person. She knew that at once, but she had no idea how hot-tempered and sassy you could be. She got to see that side of you after some time, when you got more comfortable around her. But she didn’t mind. In fact your dry sense of humour, which perfectly matched hers, made her like you even more. You might have been sarcastic or even arrogant at times, though you never disrespected her in front of others. It’s not that other people did. They wouldn’t dare to disrespect her, because they were all afraid of the consequences. Though it was different with you. You were the one who truly respected her and you did that not because of fear, but because in your eyes she deserved that respect. And much to her dismay, it made Wilhemina feel different about you. There was just something in the way you rolled your eyes or made some snarky comment. Something that made her unable to get you out of her head. Wilhemina wasn’t sure whether she liked it or not or whether it was something good or not. The only thing she knew was that you, with no doubt, were the one who could push all her buttons down.

As you got to know her better - teasing Wilhemina became your new favourite hobby. She always knew what to say, except for those moments when she was with you. And you loved seeing her being frustrated or rolling her eyes or when she unsuccessfully tried to tell you off. She may try to seem mad, but you knew that deep inside she liked it as much as you did.

“Do you want me to be honest, Miss Venable?” you started one time when you were in the library

“No” Wilhemina said not averting her eyes from the book she was reading

“Well, I’ll say it anyway”

“I had no doubt you’d do that” she sighed

“Oh c’mon. You love listening to me and my theories, Willy” you used the nickname knowing it would draw her attention

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” she asked closing the book

“I’m sorry, I don’t take orders” you shrugged “In fact I barely take suggestions”

Wilhemina shook her head.

“You should have been born with a warning sign”

“Shit happens” you laughed at her comment

“Apparently”

“Anyways…”

“Y/N” she cut you off

“Yes?”

“From the bottom of my heart - I don’t care”

“Well, I respectfully don’t care that you don’t care”

It wasn’t possible to tame you and Wilhemina knew that, but she couldn’t let you see how much she actually liked it.

“I was wondering what kind of music you like” you started

Wilhemina looked at you with anticipation. You rarely dared to make any assumptions about her or if you did you didn’t share them with her. You were usually making fun of other people, so she was curious where your conversation was about to go.

“And?”

“Well, Miss Venable, you seem so calm on the outside, but I bet that behind closed door it’s all loud music, leather and BDSM”

Wilhemina stared at you in silence. Her brown eyes did not blink even once as she examined you. Her serious face expression caused a shiver run through your body. Did you cross some line?

“I… I mean you... just give that kind of vibes… I mean no offense…"

"No harm done"

"Okay. Good" you said looking at your hands instead of looking at Wilhemina as you’d normally do.

It didn’t happen often that you shy away or get insecure. Your silence was always very suspicious and it usually led to more snarky comments. But it was different that time and Wilhemina knew it. She knew that you got shy and she couldn’t help, but used it against you.

“You are right in fact”

“I am…?” your eyes widened

“Yes, except for the part with leather… I’m not a huge fan of latex you know”

You blinked completely dumbfounded. You couldn’t quite process her words and so you just stared at her.

“Oh my, did the great orator lose the ability to speak? Did I make a counselor-to-be speechless?”

“Yes, Miss Venable. You kind of did" you admitted not looking at her, feeling your cheeks slowly turning light pink. You rarely felt embarrassed or confused, so in that very moment Wilhemina felt kind of bad for you. A part of her was satisfied with succeeding and making you shut up, but there was also that bit of her that found you adorable. She hated seeing a frown of concern on your face, so she decided to act.

“Well” she stood up “You are fine Y/N. I’m just messing”

“So, it’s not true?”

Venable was about to say something, but she closed her mouth without making any sound. She was hesitant or couldn’t find the right words - you weren't sure which one. You kept looking at her as she was moving around the table, that the two of you were sitting at. She walked slowly, her heels and cane clicking on the floor making your knees feel weak.

“To some extent it is, I think” she said finally

“W-what do you mean?” you asked turning round to look at her

“Well” she placed her hand on your shoulder “I do like loud music” she continued playing with the strand of your hair “I listen to classical music mostly, but I like rock too...” she said, but stopped as she looked at your face.

Wilhemina didn’t know why she was telling you all that, but it felt right. And the smile on your face definitely was worth the effort.

“It’s actually a long story” she said after a long moment of silence

“Now, that you started you have to tell me. Please, please Miss Venable” you looked at her pleadingly

"I…Would you like a cup of tea, Miss Y/L/N?"

"With you Miss Venable I could drink anything" you joked, but you actually meant that. And you just kind of wished Wilhemina knew how happy you felt whenever you were with her.

Wilhemina had been through all of that before. At some point she realized that her heart beating faster every so often whenever you appeared wasn’t just a coincidence. Such kind of tune was known to everyone, including Venable. She was well aware that she wasn’t able to win that war, no matter how hard she tried. That’s why she hoped that particular tune would never play again - at least not in her heart. Yet you appeared in her life. The battle had begun the moment she met you. You were like a hurricane that rearranged her molecules. You were the twist in her sobriety that she wasn’t ready for. And there she was - fighting with herself. It was her and no one else burning in her own hell. She knew that fighting it was a lost cause, yet she still tried to play that game. And she was doing her best, so as not to get too carried away.

“Which part of following the rules you don’t get Y/N?” Wilhemina asked as you appeared in her office with the same enquiry for what felt like a hundredth time

“I understand everything. I’m not asking you to break the rules” you said innocently “I’m only asking to bend them a little” you added smiling

Wilhemina sighed shaking her head.

“Rules are rules” she stated not looking at you, knowing that if she did, she wouldn’t be able to remain cold anymore

“Oh, c’mon dude!” you said out of habit

That’s when she looked at you. Her eyes narrowed into a glare and as they met yours, you immediately realized your mistake. It wasn’t the first time that something like that slipped and you knew for a fact that Wilhemina hated it. She kept trying to cure you of using such kind of sentences, though apparently it didn’t go as well as she thought.

“I… I mean Miss Venable” you corrected yourself

She really wanted to play it cool and remain indifferent, but that pleading look on your face was too much to take. How she hated you for it.

“Why would I agree?” she shifted, sitting more comfortably in her chair

“Because… deep inside you have a heart of gold?”

Wilhemina raised her eyebrows.

“I’m not convinced” she was about to go back to whatever she was doing before you interrupted her

“Ugh… You’re so stubborn” you rolled your eyes

“I told you to stop doing that”

“Doing what?”

“Rolling your eyes at me, Miss Y/N”

“What? I… You never told me that?”

“Well, I’m telling you now”

“T-that’s… Ugh… Fine! I have better arguments”

“I’m all ears”

“First of all, our library needs renovation, but school obviously doesn’t have enough money. So, the plan is…”

Wilhemina kept listening to you, as you were explaining all your ideas to her. She tried hard not to show any kind of emotion, but since you appeared hiding and avoiding her feelings became rather difficult.

“Are you always such a smartass?” she asked unexpectedly

“No…” you answered a bit dumbfounded “Only when I want to impress you” you added shrugging

Your answer took her by surprise. She really wanted to hold it back, but couldn’t and chuckled. Her cute, genuine laugh made you smile.

“OH.MY.GOD. So, you do smile and laugh” you teased

It was the first time ever that Wilhemina expressed a kind of emotion other than anger, dissatisfaction or boredom. It was new, it was different and it was all because of you. Being around you she couldn’t suppress her emotion, but she was enjoying it more than she would ever admit. In fact, she liked herself better when she was with you. And she obviously couldn’t say ‘no’ to whatever you asked her for - no matter how ridiculous it was for her.

“Wow… Miss Venable smiled at me” you kept teasing “I’m flattered”

“I didn’t ask for your insight” she said not looking at you

"Don't worry. It hurts a little less each time" you smiled at how flustered she got

"Keep teasing and there will be no film night or whatever other shit you come up with" she said crossing her arms

"So you agree?" you beamed

"You wouldn't leave me alone if I said 'no'" she answered playing with her pen, trying her best to focus on it instead of you

"Thank you!" you moved quickly and before Wilhemina had a chance to comprehend what was actually going on, you kissed her on her cheek. Her eyes widened. That unexpected move made her feel a thousand of butterflies in her stomach and much to her dismay she didn't know how to get rid of that weird feeling.

"I swear to God, Y/N, I'll strangle you"

"Is that a promise?" you bit your lip

It took everything in Wilhemina to remain unimpressed and didn't let her feelings show.

"You're walking on thin ice, Miss Y/N" her voice was calm and the usual grave expression was back, but you could notice how the corner of her mouth twitched a little as she spoke

"I'm aware of it. That's professional risk, Miss Venable" you said with pretended dignity at which Wilhemina rolled her eyes

"Don't you have somewhere else to go?"

"Perhaps, I do"

"Then perhaps you should go"

"Perhaps I should" you said, but kept standing there and looking at her

"Out! Now! Before I lose my patience and decide to throw one of the books at you"

"Umm..." You tilted your head to one side "You wouldn't do that. You like those books too much"

You were right - she wouldn't do that, but not because of her love to the literature. She wouldn't do that, because she liked you. She liked you more than her books, in fact, and hurting you was the last thing on her mind.

"Okay, I'm leaving" you said finally

"Good" she nodded

"Oooh, one more thing" you stopped at the door and turned round to look at her one more time

"Yes?"

"You have a beautiful smile, Willy" you said and left not waiting for her response

As you closed the door Wilhemina sighed. She stopped holding herself back. She touched her cheek and a wide smile appeared on her face at the thought of your kiss.

"You'll be the death of me, Y/N" she said to herself

Wilhemina was used to being on her own. She devoted herself to her career and didn’t feel like anything in her life was wrong or missing. In fact she was convinced that everything was in place. She never wanted to need someone ever again, but that changed when she met you. Wilhemina knew it. She could feel it, though she still couldn’t accept it.

You were everything she had been avoiding. You were loud, you were talking almost constantly, you couldn’t sit still even for a minute, you were annoying, stubborn, arrogant, sarcastic and funny and charming… She tried to hate you, but it wasn’t possible. You had awaken something inside her. Something that caused her walls to tumble down. You were the only one, who had such effect on her and she truly wanted you in all possible ways. Yet at the same time Wilhemina was scared. She had had her heart broken before, because she had let herself be led astray. She was afraid of getting burnt again.

Besides that she believed that being with you wasn’t possible. Why would you even like her? She was a horrible person. She could be really mean at times and was capable of truly anything. Ever since she had got her heart broken she treated people more like punching bags. She could cut them into pieces with her words alone and that was exactly why she was on her own.

Wilhemina never truly gave a damn about her bad reputation. She didn’t care what people thought or said about her. But since you appeared in her life she was, in fact, constantly worrying about what you may think when and if you found out about certain things she had done. She often wondered how she had became so obnoxious. Or what was it with you that made her act different. She didn’t mean to care so much. She didn’t mean to be lenient with you. She didn’t mean to enjoy your company. And she definitely didn’t mean to fall for you. But she couldn’t help it and so she hated herself for loving you.

A film night at the university was one of your many ideas that Wilhemina agreed to. She didn’t like it, but for the sake of you, she couldn’t say ‘no’. Though she made it clear, that it was just a one-off deal and you wouldn’t be allowed to do something like that ever again. Her statement didn’t really bother you. Wilhemina always said things like that, but then changed her mind because of you. You knew she had a soft spot for you and you often wondered how it would be to be with her. Yet you didn’t dare to do anything, afraid of scaring her off or losing her trust.

Wilhemina, of course, couldn’t and didn’t want to show how much she enjoyed seeing you so excited or listening to you talking about that one particular film you chose, so she made much of an effort to hide it and kept complaining. Though you were way too happy to care about it. You completely focused on organizing everything, so that everyone, including you and Wilhemina could enjoy it. You put a lot of effort into that, that’s why you were a bit upset when Wilhemina said nothing and kept ignoring you for almost whole evening. She seemed pretty wired, so you didn’t push. You tried your best to give her space, though you failed miserable as the movie that you had chosen ended and another one, picked by one of your friend, turned out to be a horror.

You hated horror movies and you never watched them on your own. But there you were forced to watch. It wasn’t even the middle of the film and you already couldn’t take it. Wilhemina, on the other hand, seemed completely unmoved. She just sat there and kept watching without any particular expression on her face. Though she did show some emotion, as unexpectedly, you hid your face in her arm - gripping her hand and clinging to her like a child. You were close. Very close. And Wilhemina wasn’t ready for it. She didn’t like when people were that close to her. She knew you didn’t do it on purpose, but couldn’t help and got tensed or maybe even a bit mad.

“Y/N, could you move out of my space?”

“I… Sorry” you moved immediately

You internally cursed yourself for acting like that, especially around Venable. You didn’t want to make her feel bad, but you knew you did. You tried to focus on the movie or rather on not freaking out because of it. Though it turned out to be too much for you. You couldn’t keep watching it and you definitely couldn’t hide in Wilhemina’s arms, so you decided it’d be better for you to leave.

Wilhemina watched as you grabbed your things and left without any explanation. At first she was sure you went to the toilet or somewhere, but more and more time passed and you didn’t come back. She began to worry and felt a bit guilty. Without thinking much she stood up and went after you. She slowly wandered through the corridors, wondering what she should do when she finds you. Was it her fault that you left? Should she have not acted the way she did? And why did she even do that? She was longing for your touch. She wanted you close, but then she pushed you away. Wilhemina carried on scolding herself for her behaviour until she found you in the library. You were sitting on the desk and looking out of the window.

“Y/N?” she called your name closing the door

You jumped at the sudden sound.

“Oh my God” you placed your hand on your heart

“I didn’t mean to scare” she said worriedly

“It’s fine”

“Are you alright?” Wilhemina asked approaching you

“Yeah… I just don’t like horror movies” you shrugged

Venable nodded stopping right next to you. There was a moment of silence, that Wilhemina needed to think through her next move.

“So…” she started

“So” you repeated, remembering that your very first conversation was almost the same. The only difference was that then you were the one who were nervous back then.

“Would you mind if I stay here with you?”

“No, Miss Venable”

“Okay”

You could say something was bothering her, but you knew Wilhemina wasn’t the one to talk about her feelings, so you let it be. You said nothing, just kept looking at her trying to figure out what was going on inside her head.

Wilhemina stared at an old bookcase in front of her. She was lost in her thoughts - recalling her past, wondering how she always ended up making bad decisions, making the people, who cared about her sad or how they always left her. She knew that she was mostly bad and kept pretending, because she didn’t want people to know her. Yet, somehow, you managed to break through her defense and you made her someone new. You took her self control and made her forget to play her role. She loved that feeling, but still she was worried, afraid of making yet another bad decision.

Venable could feel your eyes on her. You were staring all the time, so she turned to face you.

“What?” she asked coldly

“Nothing” you smiled to yourself and averted your eyes

“It’s not nothing. Tell me”

“I… You are just… so perfect”

Wilhemina looked at you. There was some kind of fear mixed with shock in her eyes.

“Trust me Y/N, I am not”

“Why would you say such stupid thing about yourself?”

“Just look at me...”

“I’m looking at you”

“And what do you see? For people I’m just a horrible, heartless woman… And my disability…”

“For God’s sake, if someone is truly disabled in our university, it’s professor Smith, who suffers from the lack of working brain cells. You’re fine Willy. You’re so very fine that it hurts when you say such things about yourself”

“You’re too precious to know what I’ve done in my lifetime… and, selfishly, I’ve grown to enjoy your company so much that it would tear me apart if I lose you over my past”

“Stop it. You are amazing. You are the most powerful, clever and beautiful woman I’ve ever known. You’re the best thing I’ve seen in quite some time, Willy…” you said biting your lip

“I swear to God, if you call me that one more time…”

“Then what, Willy?” you asked arching your eyebrow playfully

“Then I can’t be held responsible for my actions” she said and kissed you

You smiled against her lips. She was about pulling back, but you held her in place to kiss her back. And for a moment she forgot to worry.

Tag list: @midnight-lestrange, @natasha-danvers, @stopkillinglilyrabe

#wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #AHS #ahs imagine #ahs apocalypse #sarah paulson imagine

251 notes · View notes

royallyjoon · 4 years

Text

cursed stars

cred for the gif goes to whoever made it! 🤍

fairy au, royalty au

yandere! jung hoseok x f! reader (wind chimes: part II of II)

warnings: yandere themes, delusions of grandeur, violent behavior, and manipulation

once hoseok “successfully” claimed you as his queen, you are introduced to a tedious life as the princess of Wysteria: etiquette lessons in the morning with a testy crone of a duchess and tea at noon with His Highness himself. a new guest comes to the palace, introducing himself as an old friend of the prince’s. despite all your thoughts of returning home, your beloved knows there’s no force on Earth strong enough to rival his love for possessing you.

(a/n): hello everyone~~ all i can say is: wow!! thanks again for all the love, and for being patient with me and waiting for the next and final installment of this series haha. i have a lot more works in the drafts; please look forward to them as well** this one’s a bit of a long one; hope you enjoy! may we all bow in the final presence of the prince and princess~ :) love, ati

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

“The Fae of Wysteria are a majestic race, coming in all shapes, sizes, and colors. However, a distinct aspect of our people stems from our heritage—we are pure-blooded, descending from the Heavenly Crowned King and Queen, Rostel and Elisia. The information we have about their descending to Earth is mostly written in memoirs from scribes who happened to be alive at the time. The records vary in terms of what they were doing that day and where they were in Wysteria but two significant details remain consistent: One, the heavens opened and through the clouds, one could see a vast sky of night alit with stars. Two, the Heavenly Royalty flew through the clouds to descend upon our humble abode and bless us with their presence.”

You placed your elbow on the mahogany desk before which you sat, planting your head in your hands. Usually, you did not mind history lessons but the way the Duchess droned on you felt your head nodding back and forth, almost dropping on the desk multiple times.

“Our Heavenly Crowned rulers blessed certain fairies with their powers and decreed that every eight centuries, a new fairy be born with iridescent wings, for that child was to be our new ruler. Those meant to serve in that child’s palace would be born the same year with silver wings and would reside by their side until the end of the eight hundred years. We have carried on with this tradition for--(Y/N)!”

There was a harsh smack on the table in front of you and you jumped up to witness the Duchess with her pale hand on the desk. She glared at you and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “Yes, Duchess Roxia, I was listening. Iridescent wings for the next ruler, silver wings for the servants, they rule and live in the palace for a century.”

The crone sneered. “Eight centuries, (Y/N). Eight. Never will I understand why His Highness is wasting his time with the likes of you.” She slid her hand from the desk, nails itching to scratch the polished surface.

“In the past, I was hired to teach only the proudest of fae this generation has seen. When His Highness summoned me, I thought to myself, ‘This! This is what I’ve been waiting centuries for! To be welcomed back into the palace, to teach only the highest of fae kind! To bring honor to my family’s disgraced legacy!’ Only to find out he brought me here to educate his human plaything.”

You suffered this kind of verbal abuse on a daily basis. She would belittle and insult you to her heart’s content, then mercilessly quiz you on the material she’s taught during the hour and fifteen-minute lecture. Most of the time, you barely passed.

“Of course, I could be out in the world doing better things with my life, but who am I to refuse a request from His Highness?” She sighs, the noise heavy and more similar to a grunt than a dispel of air.

“That is why it is my personal goal to make you the best crown princess Wysteria has seen. Politics, history, etiquette--you will know it all in three months’ time for the coronation. His Highness will be so enamored with my skill, perhaps he’ll keep me in the palace to teach the next Crown Prince or Princess! Oh, the honor!” She gazed out the window, the nicest expression you’ve ever seen written all over her face.

And it was excitement at the thought of her selfish opportunity.

You glanced at the clock and shut your dusty textbooks. “Yes, well, thanks so much for the lesson, Duchess. But class is over and I have to meet with His Highness in about fifteen minutes. Have a good day.” You bowed to her and scrambled out the classroom with your head ducked down.

“Lift your head, (Y/N)! Walk like royalty!” She snapped as the grand doors of the library shut.

~~~~~~

You strolled through the corridor with Olivia in tow, taking your time to smell the flowers and feel the breeze. It was almost always sunny here now that Hoseok had you where he wanted you.

You had the finest jewels, the prettiest gowns, and the most handsome man in the kingdom laid down in front of you, yet all you wanted to do was get away from here.

He hadn’t harmed you since that awful night on the balcony, but he was in no way hesitant to do it again. You could sense it in every icy gaze he sent your way when he felt you were “misbehaving”.

The heels of your sandals clacked against the floors and you turned into the palace’s garden. Alit with soft, colored lanterns the smells from the flower petals hit you all at once. It took you back to the day you sat in that field and performed the summoning Etha so desperately wanted.

Etha...you had had no way to contact the mortal world since your capture. Hoseok had provided no comforting thought towards your friend. He simply assured you that she would be fine but she had no place here, as she was “but a mortal, and you are so much more.”

A likely story.

His wings were the first thing to catch your eye, gleaming and reflecting their multitude of colors when they met the sun. At the sound of your footsteps, he rose and approached you with a smile.

“Good morning, my dear. How were your classes?” He took your arm, leading you to the chair opposite his at the table. Olivia gently pulled your books from your arms and bowed, exiting without a word.

He pulled the chair out as you smoothed your dress out and sat. “They went as they always do...Duchess Roxia talked about the characteristics of a ruler and their servants and the length of their reign.”

Hoseok took his place and clapped his hands. Immediately, two fairies were setting tea, cups, and delicacies onto the table.

“Ah, our Regal Doctrine. She’s already managed to teach you that much, eh? Perhaps she is worth keeping around.”

You internally rolled your eyes. Had Hoseok known how Duchess Roxia was treating you, she would probably be halfway home by now.

As awful as the crone was, she was your only excuse for spending less time with the Prince. You would pick classes over emotional and psychological torture every day.

The table had grown eerily silent. You looked up to find Hoseok looking at you, seemingly waiting for something.

“Duchess Roxia informed me she taught you table etiquette during last Friday’s lesson.”

“Oh.” You shifted uncomfortably, trying to recall the exact steps.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Hoseok leaned forwards on the table, resting his head on his palm, “it begins with how you pour the tea.”

You nodded and slowly stood up, walking over to the teapot. The Duchess had said to grasp it so that when you pour, the top would not come out of place.

“A princess must always pour the tea for her prince and any visiting guests. It is crucial in demonstrating good table manners to all.”

You picked up the teapot gently, feeling Hoseok watch your every move. “The right hand to hold, the left to stop,” you murmured to yourself.

Once you felt your hands were in the correct position you held the pot an adequate height over the teacup—not too high, not too low—and began to pour. The tea did not splash around in the cup, rather it settled very gently and you waited until it rose to just a little before the rim. Then you placed the pot down, somewhat proud of yourself. “Sugar?”

Hoseok leaned back in his seat, a grin breaking out on his face. He clapped. “Wonderful! You did it perfectly, darling. I’ll take two lumps of sugar, please.”

You grabbed the lumps with a spoon and dropped them in his cup.

“You’re doing an excellent job so far, darling. You’ll be the perfect Princess of Wysteria in no time.” He continued smiling, despite the growing chill in the air.

“When I see you doing so well in your classes, it reinforces my hopes for you.” Your wrist froze, the lumps only partly dissolved. Hoseok pried the spoon from your fingers, taking your hand in his. “To think you thought you’d be anything but mine.”

The wind chimes sounding from the city hadn’t been so loud a moment before, but now they were deafening. The wind whipped your hair and dress around as you gazed down angrily, yet terrified at Hoseok. He met your gaze, doing nothing but pressing his soft lips against your hand.

And all at once, there was silence once more.

“You must forgive me, (Y/N). Every time I think back to that night, I get a little...angry.” His brown eyes were practically glowing once more, switching back and forth between dark and purple irises.

You pulled your hand from his grasp and promptly sat away from him. Hoseok continued spinning the spoon in the tea, dissolving the rest of the sugar.

“I have exciting news.” he continued. “A dear friend of mine is coming to visit in time for our coronation.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Friend?” You weren’t aware that Hoseok communed with people outside of the palace that often.

“Yes, an older friend from my childhood. He and I are extremely close and he wished to visit to see me become King before he commences travel once more.”

“Oh.” You sat, sampling the delicacies at the table. “...If you’re inviting a friend, would I be able to invite Etha for the corona-”

The wind picked up again. You heard the sound of metal slicing through the air and a knife from Hoseok’s side of the table landed inches, no, centimeters, away from your hand.

You stopped short. “Never mind,” you whispered.

Hoseok glared at the table, purple eyes fierce and gleaming. “Perhaps it is time for you to go back to your lessons, (Y/N).”

Olivia appeared at the doorway and you raced towards her, forgetting proper table manners to bow towards the prince once you exit.

For some reason, you felt the need to burst into tears.

~~~~~~

“He can bring whatever friends he wishes to, of course, yet I ask him to bring the only friend I’ve ever mentioned to him, who he knows of, and all of a sudden it’s a problem.” Soon after you left the garden, your fear and sadness dissipated into growing anger. You practically stomped down the hallway towards the room you occupied since your arrival. “He’s being hypocritical, again.”

“He may do whatever he wishes, Your Highness. He is the Prince.” Olivia mutters back to you. “If he feels as though he does not want any human presence tainting the purity of his coronation, he may ban their presence altogether.”

“Then why am I allowed there, Olivia?” You held your anger at bay, yet your lips twitched into a perceptible sneer. “Unless you have forgotten, I’m human. I don’t belong here as much as Etha-”

You doubled back in surprise as Olivia’s eyes widened and she threw herself at your feet. “Forgive me, Your Highness!” She cried out, head bowed to the floor.

“What are you doing?” You knelt beside her and tried to pull her up but her hands stuck to your ankles with a deadly grasp.

“Please forgive me!”

“For what?” You were exasperated at this point, but more worried. Olivia never did anything wrong; of all your handmaidens she was the strictest.

“I have wronged her Highness by insinuating an impurity with her birth! I beg of you, please!”

You kneeled in silence for a moment. With a heavy sigh, you stood. “You’re the last person to say something cruel on purpose, Olivia. You only spoke the truth. You’re forgiven; will you please stand up now?”

She pulled herself to her feet, her blue dress crumpled from the floors. To your shock, tears streamed down her face.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, gripping her by the arms.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing of importance, Your Highness. I thank you for your grace and mercy.” She curtsied, knees almost touching the floor.

You looked around, trying to see if there were any onlookers. When your eyes found nothing, you hurriedly walked towards your room, pulling Olivia along with you.

Hoseok frowned from his column perch. The maid was a good one--too good to let go.

But he couldn’t let her go unpunished for insulting his future Queen.

The prince smirked, flying away silently.

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

Olivia’s curious behavior quit after that day. It was the biggest display of emotion you had ever witnessed from her. Rattling, to say the least.

Two weeks went by uneventfully. All too soon, you were sitting in the library as Duchess Roxia went over the history of fae and human relations.

“Humans have attempted to contact the fae realm for centuries now, and only a few have succeeded. None to your extent, of course,” she sneered sarcastically.

“They blunder about in the forest searching for fields and lakes, trying to find a place with the right amount of ‘energy’,” the Duchess laughed and it sparked annoyance in you. “The pitiful things actually believe they have control over who they summon and where.”

Her mockery of the ritual that made you end up here, that currently has you trapped under the thumb of a purple and black-haired prince, made a new level of anger arise within you. You slammed your book on the desk and began putting away your “notes”.

“Any fairy who attempted to make contact first spelled destruction for Wys- (Y/N), where do you think you are going?”

“I’m leaving,” you snapped. “Perhaps I’ll return when I feel as though I’m being taught useful information and not racist sentiments from some bigot.”

You tucked the books into the corner of your arm and marched towards the door. Duchess Roxia’s heels clacked on the floor quickly behind you and before you could say another word, she wrapped her wrinkly fingers around your wrist, spinning you around.

The sound of your books crashing to the floor echoed in the library, but not as loudly as the crack of her hand against your cheek.

“You insufferable little bug,” she seethed. “I am not finished with my lesson, therefore you will be going nowhere. Pick up your books and take your seat, unless I must spell you to remain seated from now on.”

The flush of anger sat deep within your chest now and you threw her hands off of you. “Try me, bitch.” You resisted the urge to spit on her face and continued to head out of the library.

There was the sound of the Duchess sighing behind you but you paid no mind. Until, that is, you felt little sparks running through your hands and feet.

“I’m sure His Highness would not be pleased to hear of your insubordination...no worries. I will punish you in his place.” You felt yourself turn around, once again not of your own volition, to face the witch. She had both arms outstretched, wrinkly hands controlling your every movement.

The next moment, you felt like there was electricity convulsing through every inch of your being. It was painful, yes, but you were not allowed to scream or call out for help.

She had you at her whim.

About five minutes later, Duchess Roxia released her hold on you. Your body dropped to the floor, fingers still twitching unknowingly.

“Need I repeat myself, (Y/N)?” She cackled. “Books. Seat. Now.”

There was nothing you could do. You picked the textbooks up off the floor, stumbling a bit, and then slammed them back on the table. She scoffed at your helplessness, lecture continuing without a hiccup.

Your cheek burned. Your entire body ached.

When the lesson did end some thirty minutes later, you waited for her to leave the library first. Olivia passed by her as she exited before gasping at your condition.

“Your Highness!” She collected your books and tried to make you rise, but you were glued to the seat. Not by spelling, as if you’d let that witch’s magic get anywhere near you twice, but by your own indignation.

The handmaiden finally managed to make you rise and helped you to your room.

Upon entering, Raina, Eliza, and Kyla gasped, leaving their cleaning to crowd around you and ask what happened.

“Duchess Roxia slapped me,” you revealed as you placed enough foundation on your face to cover the mark. “Then she used her powers on me. I felt like I was being shocked in every part of my body.”

“How dare she lay her hands on the future queen!” Raina growled, her eyes glowing a bright hazel. “It’s high treason!”

Kyla nodded, cracking her knuckles. “We should go incapacitate her and drag her before the prince and princess to answer for her crimes.”

Those dear, four handmaidens. Your jailers who happened to be the people you have closest to friends.

You managed to earn their trust, and they managed to earn yours. They were only cruel to you when you decided to go against the prince’s wishes...which was in their best interest as they would be the ones he punished if you acted out.

“There’s no need,” you sighed, finishing up with the foundation. “In her mind, she was completely in the right. There’s no fae law that prohibits the use of magic on humans.”

Olivia sighed. “His Highness would be most displeased to find you like this,” She muttered.

“It’s none of his business,” you said. “I don’t need him to fight my battles for me. Especially not the ones he placed me in himself.”

“As you wish, Your Highness,” Eliza said, having a conversation through her eyes with Olivia that you couldn’t bear to translate at that moment.

As off-putting as your handmaidens were, they were the only ones you could freely talk to. At times, you found their presence and protectiveness comforting.

But it wasn’t as comforting as your home.

When you were finished, Olivia quickly led you back to the garden. The aftereffects of the shock were thankfully gone now; there would be nothing suspicious for the prince to question you about later on.

This time, Hoseok sat at the table with another man. He had a pale complexion for his skin tone, which was not too dark or too light. His hair was straight, hanging into his eyes. He, too, carried silver wings on his back, similar to those of your handmaiden’s, but slightly larger.

“(Y/N), my dear!” Hoseok gushed as you approached the table. Olivia took her place behind your chair as you curtsied to the prince and the guest.

“Greetings, Your Highness.” You muttered.

Hoseok could sense something off with his love, but he knew wouldn’t be able to confront it at that moment, not with his guest here.

“This is Lord Yoongi, the friend I spoke to you about.”

The man, Yoongi, stood and bowed to you as you curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. Hoseok has told me much about you.”

You rose, eyebrows shooting up a little when you heard him address the prince by his first name. “All good things, I hope.” you smiled.

“Of course.” He flashed a closed-lip smile at you and Hoseok stood, pulling out your chair. You poured the tea for Hoseok and Yoongi just as you had the day before.

“Do you take sugar with your tea?” You asked, placing two lumps in Hoseok’s cup. As much as he tried to hide it, for whatever reason, he was beaming with pride.

“Three, please.” The answer surprised you again, but you hid with a smile.

Who exactly was this man?

You gently placed the cup before him and took your seat. Hoseok moved his chair so that he sat in between you and Yoongi, forming a triangle at the round table.

“I can’t quite explain how amazing it is to have two of my absolute favorite people meet,” Hoseok grinned. You couldn’t help but feel a little disgruntled: he was never this smiley around you.

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re a bundle of emotions,” Yoongi snorted, sipping at his drink. “How are the preparations going for the coronation?”

Hoseok grabbed your hand in his and placed it on his lap. “I’ve been covering most of the duties, as (Y/N) here catches up with her studies. How was your class today, darling?”

You could feel Olivia’s glare on the back of your head and your body shook in reminder of your lessons. “It’s difficult, but what is education if not a challenge? I'm just really excited to be learning more about Wysteria’s history and culture.”

Yoongi nodded. “It isn’t easy at all, I commend you for your dedication. I know it may take a while to get used to, but I’m sure Wysteria can become a home for you just as much as it is for any other citizen.”

“That’s very kind of you to say...thank you.” You were taken aback by his kindness. All of your other encounters were racist or harmful, but Yoongi seemed to genuinely accept your presence here.

An attendant stepped closer and whispered something in Hoseok’s ear. His grip on your hand tightened but he let go to stand up. “I’m afraid there are some manners in the ballroom I must attend to. Please, feel free to chat amongst one another.”

Hoseok leaned down and you held your breath, praying he wouldn’t comment on the makeup.

His lips went to your ear all of a sudden, and he whispered: “Every day could be like today, you know.”

Then his lips were on your cheek, and he was walking out with all the servants.

You stared after him curiously. What could that have possibly meant?

After Hoseok left, you shifted in your chair uncomfortably. Yoongi crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat.

“So...how long ago did he take you?”

Your eyes shot up. “Did he tell yo-I mean...” your voice faltered, unsure if you should even be asking the question. Were you supposed to refute the claim?

“I know him like the back of my hand; he’s the only fairy powerful enough to bring a human into this realm. And as smiley as you are around him, I can tell you’re not here of your own accord. So when did you get taken?”

You paused. “A month ago,” you murmured.

Yoongi hummed, looking at the lanterns and vines behind you.

“He’s not a bad person,” he commented. “He’s always been a bit...off, but it didn’t show as much in his youth because he had so much energy and familial support.”

“How long have you known him?” You asked.

“Since childhood,” Yoongi said. “My parents used to attend his in the palace. When he, the new set of servant fairies, and I were born, my parents took to training them and I was a sort of babysitter. I must admit, I can understand what you’re going through. He was quite possessive of me in his youth shortly after he lost his parents. He clung to me all the time, really.”

A gummy smile broke out upon Yoongi’s face, and you felt your lips twitch in response. “Really? That’s...interesting.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent listening to Yoongi dispel stories about the young prince and their escapades in the palace.

“The old king and queen always told me that they hoped I’d be a friend of Hoseok’s for life.” He mused, eyes clouding a bit.

You paused at the sudden mention of his parents. “...Is it alright for me to ask what happened to them?”

Yoongi was quiet for a long while, and you were afraid you had overstepped your boundaries. Yet he began speaking a few moments later.

“It was an ambush,” he muttered.

Your head snapped up.

“On his birthday, Hoseok’s parents were holding a score of festivities to celebrate their seventieth reign together. I was still fairly young in fairy years, and Hoseok was even younger.” He continued.

“There was an insurrection in the palace...a group of commoners’ used the party as their opportunity to annihilate the royal family despite their divine right to hold the throne.” Yoongi held his teacup so firmly, the ceramic began to shake in his grasp. “Hoseok only survived because he and I immediately ran to hide with the servants. So many servants sacrificed themselves for us that night...

“They never discovered the person who let them into the palace. Commoners in Wysteria don’t have wings, you see. Only servants meant to be with the royals and the royals themselves possess the ability to fly.” Yoongi drifted off, lost in his thoughts. “I have my own suspicion about who it was, but I fear starting an investigation would cost Hoseok his current mental state.”

Never would you have guessed what the prince had gone through. “I could never imagine...thank you for telling me.” Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but wonder: did his response to the loss of his parents truly excuse his actions?

Yoongi sighed. “They were truly great parents to him but taken too soon.” He lifted himself from the chair and walked over to you. “Shall we go find him in the ballroom?”

You stood. “Sounds like a great plan.”

Olivia's eyes widened in glee at the sight of Yoongi. “Greetings, Lord Min. It’s wonderful to see you around the palace again.”

“As it is to see you, Olivia. I remember when you were still a toddler in the palace...time goes by all too soon.”

You smiled a little at the thought of Olivia as a toddler, learning etiquette.

The three of you walked out of the garden only to bump into none other than Duchess Roxia, lurking down the corridor.

Your breath hitched in your throat as her eyes passed right over you to land on Yoongi. “Why, if it isn’t the Lord of Tierny himself! A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Duchess Roxia, royal teacher of the future que-”

Yoongi pushed right by her and kept walking without a blink. “Come, (Y/N), we have to go find the prince.”

You stood behind in shock, watching as the Duchess whipped around in surprise. Olivia gave you a little shove forward and you walked briskly lest you be caught in the aftermath of her fury, again.

When you rounded the corner, there was nothing to stop you from cackling as loudly as possible.

~~~~~~

Hoseok had expected a lot of things from your arrival. The anger and the confusion were a given, but your desperation to leave was the one thing he could not wrap his head around.

He saw you as his queen from the moment you shook those wind chimes on the lakeside. How regal you looked, skin draped in moonlight and eyes alight with the stars. There was nothing left that the Earth could gift you with, thus he took it as his responsibility to give you all the niceties in life. Never again would he allow another creature to pollute your natural grace and kindness.

The night he caught you on the balcony, oh how the strength of your sobs tore at his very core. He didn’t want his love to be unhappy; he brought you here because the two of you belonged together. Couldn’t you tell?

Of course, he never questioned your love for him. Why else would you have wished for him to take you on an adventure so sweetly, so openly?

Sure, he may have lost his temper quite a few times but it was well within reason.

The first time you two had met, when he saw you donned in his royal garments in the library that day, he thought you couldn’t be any more beautiful.

So when he saw you walking in with Yoongi, eyes scrunched up and mouth split open by a wide grin, he knew he’d been proven wrong.

Your silk dress slid along the floor as you leaned back in laughter, arms wrapped around your soft frame. The light entered the room at just the perfect angle and Hoseok was able to witness the star greet your skin and light it up, like a parent with arms open to welcome their child home. He grinned softly.

“My lord! That was--that was amazing!” The older man could not understand for the life of him what you found so funny. Little did he know that dismissal of Duchess Roxia made your entire week.

“Hoseok-ah, come get your fiance.” The man groaned but chuckled, taken aback by the force of your laughter.

You calmed yourself as you neared the center of the ballroom and the prince approached you “Care to tell me what’s so funny?” He asked amusedly.

You shook your head, smiling at the floor. “Duchess Roxia attempted to greet Lord Yoongi but in our haste to see you, he paid her no mind...she was left ever so crestfallen in the hallway,” snorts attempted to take over your words once more but suppressed the giggling.

Hoseok looked at his oldest friend in shock. “Hyung!”

Yoongi widened his eyes and spread his arms innocently. “I had places to go!”

As the two bickered, you took in Hoseok’s work, admiring the way the ballroom gleamed. There was no doubt about it, the event would be beautiful but you still were not positive that you wanted to be a part of it.

“Every day could be like today.”

Is that what he’d meant? No cowering in fear from the anger of your supposed fiance, no disgusting teachers or challenging examinations? Just sunlight and laughter and friendship?

Don’t be ridiculous, you chastised yourself. You’re never going to stop longing for home, and Hoseok is never going to get over that. When Yoongi leaves, you’ll be transported from one tormentor to the next.

There would be no end. There is no method to his madness.

But...perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad place to stay...

“(Y/N)?” Hoseok waved a hand in front of your face and you violently flinched away. The action caused both men to pause, gazing at you seriously.

“Are you alright?” Yoongi asked. His face showed no great emotion, but you could see the question that lay in his eyes.

You shook your head pointedly as if to say, No.

At least, not him.

“Yes, sorry. I was lost in my thoughts for a moment there.” You smiled assuredly at Hoseok, hands twisting the fabric of the silk dress you wore.

“I thank you both for your company today. I’m afraid I don’t feel well and will have to retire to my room for the rest of the afternoon. It’s been a pleasure, really.” You curtsied to both men.

Olivia, never far behind you, curtsied even lower to the prince and his lordship and followed you quietly out the ballroom.

The sky darkened a bit as you left and Yoongi sighed.

Clouds formed in the previously blue skies, a storm quickly changing the atmosphere of the room.

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

Later that evening, you lay in bed chatting with Raina and Kyla recounting the day’s events as Olivia sat by the window, listening. You didn’t have the energy to change out of the dress but all of that socializing exhausted you.

Eliza slipped into the room. “Your Highness, the prince is calling for you. He wishes for you to meet him on the balcony.”

You stopped mid-sentence. “What balcony?” You asked dumbly.

“The same balcony you found on your first night here,” Eliza replied calmly.

You stared at her for a few moments before flopping back onto your bed. “I’ll be out shortly,” you muttered, slipping on a simple pair of flats.

Olivia made herself ready to stand up but Eliza waved her down. “He wishes to see Her Highness alone,” she said as she rearranged the sheets you were just laying on.

Raina and Kyla pouted, disappointed that they wouldn’t hear the rest of the story. They acted as if they were even younger than you despite being considerably older. They understood, however, that the wishes of the prince came first in every situation.

Eliza chastised them for sitting around all day rather than completing their tasks. Olivia smiled, watching them all bicker from the windowsill.

You smiled at the chaotic scene before quietly closing the door, mentally preparing yourself to go back to the balcony.

~~~~~~

You saw the prince before he heard you. Hoseok had his head laid in his arms, peering out at the city of Wysteria. You appeared beside him and he turned, smiling at you.

You found it hard to return.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed today, (Y/N). And your time here in general.” Hoseok began, straightening.

You raised your eyebrows. “You make it sound as if you’re letting me go,”

His eyes flashed purple and he grinned. “Never. No, I said that because I have been reflecting upon my decisions as your prince, and I admit my actions may have been a bit...hasty.”

You snorted quietly and leaned on the railing. “That’s a bit of an understatement, Your Highness.”

He stayed quiet.

You walked to the end of the balcony and placed your arms along the wire rim, turning your head to his. “Yoongi told me about your parents...I’m sorry for your loss.”

He inhaled sharply, turning away from you for a moment. His dangling black coattails whipped around in the wind. “I didn’t want you to know about that,” he said.

You hummed. “Why not?”

“I want you to fear for nothing here,” he said, back still turned to you. “I simply wish to fulfill your dream, our dream of being together...I want you to be happy here. With me, and me alone.”

You stared at the back of his head, wishing you could read his mind. “You hurt me here,” you stated. “All I want to do is go home, but you keep me trapped-”

“That is for your own protection,” he cut you off. “You were behaving rashly by running around the palace. I know you’re a bit of a free spirit, love, but you shouldn’t act as though you want to leave me behind. I know you care for me as much as I care for you.”

You suppressed a groan of frustration. “Hoseok, I barely knew you when you brought me here. I still hardly know you.”

He took your hands, cupping them in his. “(Y/N), you’re the only one that knows the real me.”

Your expression twisted in confusion, but Hoseok was already changing the topic.

“Nevertheless, I invited you here because I want to apologize for any of my behavior that may have been...off-putting.” He started, leaning his back against the rail.

Ah, yes. Because nearly stabbing my hand with telekinetic powers was simply off-putting.

“Our love is not meant to be like any other, yet we have stood the test of time. I cannot wait to place a crown on your head myself, to watch you become a great ruler to my people.”

You tore your arms off the iron gate of the balcony and stood before him, locking eyes.

“You’re delusional,” you emphasized.

His eyes flashed purple but you were determined to stand your ground. “I have never seen nor spoken to you before that night on the riverbank.”

“But couldn’t you feel our connection?” He murmured. “I know you felt how powerful my presence was, how strong we were together. What else could it have been but a sign? Who else could have had the strength to summon me to your mortal realm and interact with me?”

“Somebody!” You cried. “Literally anybody!”

“But it was you, wasn’t it?” His voice got softer and softer, like a parent talking their toddler down from a tantrum. “You were the one to speak to me first. You were the one to make contact first, and you were the one to shake the chimes. No one forced you to participate in the ritual...you must have been searching for something to come out of it.”

“I only did it for Etha!” you protested.

Hoseok hummed and reached a hand up to pat your head. “I think you did it for yourself,” he concluded. “And I think the only option you have left is to accept your fate.”

His other arm crept around your back until he was hugging you. You tried to push him away, but your arms were trapped between the two of you.

“Our meeting, our love, our fates, they’re all written in the stars.” He rocked you gently side to side as he gazed up into the night sky. Where clouds once dominated, stars took their place and lit the balcony.

He let you go and stepped away, walking back inside the palace. Without looking back, he said, ““We’re going to have a beautiful life here, (Y/N). I suggest you get used to it very quickly. As I said before, I have no intention of letting you leave.”

You were left on the balcony with those cursed stars, regretting every decision you’d made in the past.

With the news of that cruel reality, you trudged down the palace corridor back to your room, slipped under the sheets, and promptly fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~

Olivia prided herself on her good work for the future King and Queen of Wysteria. Ever since she was little, she dreamed of working for Lord Min and His Highness to help preserve their beautiful land and beautiful country.

She was consistently the highest ranking fairy in her lessons; perfect posture, perfect demeanor. Everything about her was groomed to perfection.

When His Highness assigned her and her friends to the princess, she’d been ecstatic. Sure, she was a bit of a challenge in the beginning, but (Y/N) has improved from her initial hysterical behavior.

Olivia is proud to work for such a determined, self-aware mistress. If only she would put all of that anger and energy to escape towards her lessons and the kingdom’s future.

She knew her insult to Her Highnesses’ birth would not go unnoticed. Sooner or later, the prince would drag her before him and demand answers.

Olivia closed the door to your room with one hand, the other arm occupied by a basket of clothes. She had changed you out of your day gown, as she was sure you’d complain about it in the morning. As her sandals quietly clacked down the corridor, she saw shadows approaching her.

Two royal guards stepped out of the darkness directly into her path. “Miss Olivia, His Highness requests your presence at his personal library immediately.”

Olivia’s breathing began to increase just slightly. She nodded and clung to the basket a little harder.

They led her to the dreaded library and she gulped, seeing only a sliver of moonlight from underneath the door. One of the guards checked her for weapons and the other took the basket, gently placing it on the floor. With a deep breath, she knocked twice and turned the handle.

“I have arrived at your request, Your Highness.” She curtsied, keeping her eyes glued to the carpet.

The library was dark but moving. In a moment, he appeared.

“My dear, you know I value your service. You are of the most competent in your generation...I remember how my mother simply adored you and your friends...”

The prince placed his hand around Olivia’s throat.

“...yet, you have insulted my queen. Your mistress.” He pressed a little tighter and Olivia gasped. “This cannot go unpunished. Do you have anything you wish to say for yourself?”

Olivia could barely get anything out. "Yes, Your Highness. I just want to thank you for your benevolence and generosity.”

He hummed. “Anything else?”

She felt that she shouldn’t, as her mistress felt sure she could handle it, but this was her life at stake. She broke. “Before Your Highness ends my pitiful life, I have something extremely important to tell you.”

The prince continued staring at her, pressing a little harder. “It’s..about..the princess...” Olivia tried to speak, but he had managed to squeeze all the oxygen out of her throat.

Hoseok’s eyes narrowed the slightest and he released her. Olivia coughed, dropping to her knees.

“Go on.”

Olivia rubbed her neck. “Duchess Roxia is well-known for her knowledge on fae history, and although she has been teaching my mistress everything she needs to know, she has been expressing a variety of anti-human sentiments. She ridicules my mistress nearly every lesson, and for the past couple of weeks, has even ventured so far as to...”

She faltered.

“May I remind you that if you obstruct the truth, I will not hesitate to hang you from the gallows.” The prince’s words were as sharp as the knife slowly rising from his desk.

“Duchess Roxia has been physically abusing the princess. She slapped her when she tried to leave a lesson and subdued her with magic. She almost electrocuted my mistress.”

The prince’s eyes danced purple in fury. Olivia knew he was going to erupt, but before he did, she wanted to make sure she was in the clear.

“I’m afraid that’s not all about the Duchess, Your Highness...”

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

The next morning, you were shaken awake by your handmaidens. You tried to insist that you didn’t have classes and didn’t need to get up, but the grim look on their faces told you otherwise.

Kyla and Raina did their best to keep appearances sunny, giving you breakfast while Olivia and Eliza chose your outfit. They bathed you and dressed you in a silk, royal purple gown. It wasn’t until the dress was on you that you realized it was the exact same shade Hoseok’s eyes turned when he was infuriated.

And for whatever reason, Olivia kept wincing and touching her neck. You tried to ask her if she was okay, or if she wanted a massage, but she turned you down, joking that she was supposed to be the one to offer you such services.

Once you were dressed, your handmaidens led you to the balcony. To your surprise, there was a palanquin resting there, adorned with swirls of black, gold, and silver, with multiple royal guardsmen outside.

Not a chime could be heard from below the palace. The city of Wysteria was silent, and it made you shiver.

“What’s going on?” You asked Raina, hoping she would spill.

She shook her head and gestured towards the palanquin. “Please get in, Your Highness.”

You gasped. “That thing? It’s tiny!”

After that comment, the expression you saw on Eliza’s face couldn’t have had you rushing to the palanquin sooner. You picked up your skirts and stuffed yourself inside, trying not to feel cramped. The guardsmen pulled the door down and you could feel them lift the palanquin up.

You gasped, hand scrabbling against the wall. Your knuckle hit something sharp, and you pressed your fingers against a tiny knob. You slid the knob across the wall and it opened a window.

To your shock, you were being carried in midair. You could see Olivia and Eliza flying next to your side of the box, the swirls on their silver wings glistening in the sunlight.

If you peeked your head out a little further, you could see the borders of the city getting closer and closer.

So this is how people have to leave the palace, you noted.

You closed the window and stayed deathly still in the palanquin, afraid that the slightest motion would make you tip over.

About fifteen minutes later, the palanquin landed and the door opened. You hiked up your skirts, hoping the silk was not wrinkled.

“My first time in the city...is this a gift from the prince or something?” You asked Olivia. Before she could respond, Eliza intervened once more.

“This way, Your Highness. We are meant to go to the Wysterian Amphitheater.”

The handmaiden’s voice was even chillier than normal. You walked the streets of the city, head craning around the guards to get a view.

The city was gorgeous, filled with apartment buildings and shops. The blocks were lined with trees whose leaves had varying colors; some had red and orange, others had pink and purple, or silver.

Every tree had a wind chime tied to its branch. They would have been tinkling wonderfully had there been a sort of breeze.

Yet there was no breeze. In fact, there were hardly any citizens, either. The shops were closed, and doors were shut everywhere. The city was empty.

Everything remained deathly still.

You had so many questions, but you knew that you would get no answers, so you continued to keep quiet.

Your party had been walking for quite a while when you all approached a large building in the center of the city. It reminded you of the government buildings in the capitol back home; all marble columns and golden plaques with sprawling greenery surrounding the entrance. The main difference is that, behind those doors, you could hear people cheering and yelling. Thus, you were heading into the belly of the amphitheater.

The handmaidens paused before the doors. Eliza gracefully spread her wings and flew upwards, disappearing over the walls of the building.

“This is the first time the citizens of Wysteria shall see you, Your Highness.” Kyla whispered. “We know how amazing you are, but they do not yet.”

“Just hold your head high!” Raina added.

“Things are about to get ugly,” Olivia muttered.

Eliza returned, landing with both feet on the floor. She turned to you, brushing out your dress and fixing any stray hairs. When she felt satisfied with your appearance, she nodded at the guards.

Two of them stepped forward to open the doors of the amphitheater. You kept Kyla and Raina’s advice in mind, raising your head and squaring back your shoulders.

On the outside, you looked like someone important. Someone composed and dignified. Someone royal.

On the inside, however, you were resisting the urge to scream from nervousness.

As you passed through the doorway, you made yourself acquainted with the citizens of Wysteria. They were, quite literally, every shape, size, and color, just as the Duchess had told you only a few weeks ago.

They were beautiful.

You found yourself forgetting your instructions, looking around in wonder at the fae community. The cries you heard exploding from the arena silenced as your visage became clearer and clearer to the citizens.

While the outside has resembled a sort of official government building, the inside was most similar to a sports arena back on Earth. There were seats, which the citizens filled, and then there was a separate section.

In the silence, you searched for Hoseok. Your eyes took their time, drinking in every sense they could interpret, before landing on the prince in a sort of skybox, set in the middle of the spectator’s part of the theater.

The prince stood, and you could see his outfit was meant to match yours in that he wore an all black suit with a purple tie. His coattails still dragged on behind him and his highlights were shimmering in the light of day.

Hoseok unfurled his wings and you had to squint when they caught the light, blasting every color of the rainbow out at the audience.

Even with your eyes partly closed, they were probably the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

He didn’t land before you, no. He extended a hand to you as he floated above ground, waiting for you to take it.

“I’m afraid of heights,” you whispered.

Hoseok grinned and placed his hand in yours. In one fell spin, he had you wrapped in his arms, bridal style, as you let out a shriek.

The cheers erupted from the citizens, even louder than before, as Hoseok flew you to the Royals’ seating station. The guards disbanded and went to stand at their respective part of the stadium while Olivia, Eliza, Kyla, and Raina followed you and the prince.

You clung to Hoseok as the two of you flew. “So this is your idea of a first impression? Me cowering in front of the citizens?”

Hoseok smiled, but for some reason, the moment felt sinister. The earlier unease you sensed in front of the amphitheater returned full force.

It wasn’t until the prince set you down in the skybox that you realized why.

In the center of the stadium, Duchess Roxia stood on a raised wooden podium. Her usually stoic and professional appearance was in tatters, as she had nothing but a ripped nightgown on to face the crowd. Her dark hair curled down her shoulders.

You gasped, looking to Hoseok and Yoongi for an explanation. “What’s happening...?”

Yoongi, already a man of few words, said nothing, as he gazed forward with no emotion.

Hoseok held you like he did in the library that first day, arms around your waist with his chin tucked into your neck. “She’s receiving due punishment, my love. Long overdue, but just.”

You were sure he meant for his words to be warm but his voice made you freeze out of fear, and you hadn’t even done anything wrong.

The prince held you like that for a few moments more before gently leading you to your seat. As you were placed between him and Yoongi, the situation dawned upon you.

When the prince sat down, a screen appeared, broadcasting the skybox to the citizens. It only showed Hoseok’s face, thank everything, as he motioned for them to quiet down. Then, he began to speak.

“Centuries ago, my parents ruled Wysteria with generosity, clarity, and grace in a manner which I am currently preparing to do so for you, my beloved subjects.” Hoseok spoke, the epitome of cool and composed.

“Nevertheless, as we all know, a rebellion that had been forming in the city chose to execute their diabolical plan to rid the land of its royalty.”

“This insurrection was carried out with the assistance of an insider from the palace...thus it was at the tender age of seventy years that I lost my parents, and so many children here in the city lost theirs as well.”

“While we as a nation have moved on from this horrid tragedy, I, as your prince, kept this traitorous act in mind for years. And along my journey...I fell in love.”

The fae cheered once more, and your face was broadcasted alongside Hoseok’s. You smiled a little, hoping it didn’t look too much like a cringe.

You sat as he spun your abduction into a fantastic tale of love, danger, and triumph. He claimed you were in a precarious situation back on Earth; surrounded by people who posed physical and emotional threats to your safety.

You had just managed to steal a wind chime, as well as directions for communication with other beings, and pledged yourself to Hoseok, who appeared underneath the moonlight on the riverbank, grabbed your hand, and saved you.

As you watched him spout utter lies, you found it harder and harder to smile, the false expression of joy slipping off your face.

This must have been what he told himself in order to justify his actions.

What a pretty tale he’d woven.

And the fae were eating it out of his hand.

“I introduce to you, citizens of Wysteria, your future queen, (Y/N) (L/N)!”

The crowds clapped for you, shouting and chanting your name. Your face was being broadcasted all over the stadium, but you couldn’t even pretend to smile.

“I fear my princess has not has it easy,” Hoseok continued and the audience hushed themselves, placing all of their attention on him once more.

“Ever since her arrival, I hired our dear Duchess Roxia to instruct the princess on our history. (Y/N), completely unfamiliar with our ways, jumped into her lessons wholeheartedly and retained a lot of knowledge.”

“But while under my roof, in my kingdom, in my palace, Duchess Roxia had the gall to mistreat the princess.” The smile was completely gone from the prince’s face now. Warm, brown orbs turned purple and hardened, like gems.

“She abused her by constantly expressing anti-human sentiments and using illegal spells on her!”

The crowd roared in disapproval. Your stomach dropped and you whipped around to face Olivia. The handmaiden shrunk in shame.

“I had no choice,” she mouthed.

“I brought my beloved into my home with the intentions of keeping her safe,” Hoseok growled, glaring at the pathetic figure of Duchess Roxia on the podium, “and someone thought she could harm my princess and get away with it.”

“Someone thought she would be above the law for the second time.”

Silence.

“It was she, the very traitor I scoured the kingdom for, disrupting the peace once again. Threatening the safety and well-being of those that I care for, again.”

You looked at Yoongi, recalling his suspicions from the day before. The dismissal that had brought you so much joy...was because he suspected the Duchess of allowing the insurrection into the palace.

“When His Highness summoned me, I thought to myself, ‘This! This is what I’ve been waiting centuries for! To be welcomed back into the palace-’”

“Thus, it is today, for my parents’ honor, that I bring this criminal before you all to witness the capitol punishment she deserves.” He sat down once more, practically breathing in the violent energy the crowd was emitting.

“Execution.” Yoongi muttered.

You sat back in your seat, gazing at Hoseok’s side profile in shock. You had no idea whether she was guilty or not, but who were you to advocate for your abuser?

Stubborn. Clearly.

“Hoseok,” you murmured, barely audible beneath the crowd’s chanting, “I understand that she killed your parents, but murder? ...Why not imprisonment?”

The prince turned to you, purple irises glowing brightly in the shade of the skybox. “And let the maggot live thinking she can get away with her crimes? For not only touching what’s mine, but punishing you? Not in this century, my love. Nor the next.”

He leaned closer to whisper in your ear, “As a matter of fact, we will be having a very serious discussion about how you kept this from me once we return to the palace.”

You gulped, glaring at Olivia. She looked down in shame.

“The stars have spoken for us all, (Y/N).” He said. “You will not be leaving. They have decreed your fate.”

A manic grin spread across his face. He rose, unfurling his wings to fly out to the center of the arena.

“The citizens have decided!” He yelled above their clamor. “And so have I.”

Hoseok didn’t even spare Duchess Roxia a glance as he lifted his little finger and flicked it, causing the duchess’ head to roll off her shoulders.

You screamed, volume matching that of the faes, and buried your head into Yoongi’s shoulder as the citizens grew louder and louder. He and Olivia gently pat your back while your eyes were pried together, replaying the horrid image.

The Wysterian prince, eyes mad in victory, drunk off of the power that rolled in waves from the crowd’s cheers, bowed before his citizens.

“My queen and I, after our coronation, will rule this country anew. Any threat against us shall meet the same fate as the duchess. I hope you will all walk forwards with us into an era of great prosperity, wealth, and glory!”

The duchess’ body collapsed to the floor of the wooden podium.

Shouts rang in your ears. You lifted your head from Yoongi’s shoulder. He, Eliza, and Olivia were nodding along with Hoseok’s energetic cries of rage.

The audience stamped their feet in carnal joy.

Kyla and Raina had stars in their eyes, glued to Hoseok’s visage.

And you knew all at once, without a doubt, that he had won.

And why wouldn’t he? After all, your fate was written in the stars.

#yandere jung hoseok #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #possessive jung hoseok #min yoongi #yandere #yandere jhope #yandere jhope x reader #dark bts #fairy au #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic #fae #fantasy #royalty #royalty au #dark jhope

568 notes · View notes