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#honestly the story behind why there are two is far more boring and far less funny than this reaction image
frodo-with-glasses · 2 years
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@heckin-music-dork
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apples-of-apples · 5 months
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No, go ahead. talk about digimon games. I need more research 👁👄👁
*Heavy breathing* Someone asked about digimon...
*AHEM*
anyway, I'll tell you about the ds games! yes the world games and ds games are separate even through two of the games are known as digimon world ds (dawn/dusk) I'll explain.
The digimon ds games are a bit confusing for new players as the English translation made them be named after the digimon world franchise instead of existing as their own thing, but the original name they carry are the Digimon Story games! Story because they are the jrpg part of digimon lol
There are also a few universal mechanics like farm islands, devolution + evolution, SPECIES EXP, etc. the game will teach you about these, but feel free to ask about them!
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DIGIMON STORY (digimon world ds)
Pros:
Game is pretty short for a Jrpg!
Digimon selection isn't too shabby with there being many classic ones in the bunch, So there's a lot of variety!
Post games quests are really fun!
Digimon can enter the farm and give quests (I like how it gives the digimon some personality without needing to be full characters all right)
Cons:
This game is extremely easy. Until that boss.
Like this game is so easy that it almost leaps into mind-numbing
The mind-numbing comes from the grind being really bad...
Some of the best designed and most iconic digimon are locked behind online battles, you might see why this is a problem.
maps are mazes. this is not good. (They aren't hard, but they can be a bit confusing)
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A quick summary for this game is that it's definitely made with the idea that kids are going to want to try and get every digimon and that they'll spend A LOT of time grinding for that. Otherwise this game is actually pretty fun!
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DIGIMON STORY SUNBURST AND MOONLIGHT (digimon world dawn and dusk)
Pros:
Game is a bit harder than the original digimon story!
Almost the same amount of digimon as the original digimon story!
Cool fusion digimon are no longer locked behind online battles!!!
extremely quick if you use the resources at your disposal! I've beaten it in like 18~ hours.
Cons:
Grind is much, much worse (It can become much easier, but it requires planning)
Cool fusion digimon are locked behind post game quest that is the second to last fight in the game :/
Side quests are mandatory throughout the story(Not a personal problem, but a warning)
You cannot get 100% in one game, because these games have ✨Version exclusives✨ plus optional side-quests are locked behind certain digimon, with certain personalities, with certain farm islands, and ✨✨multiple✨✨ ✨version exclusives also have quests✨
Maps are ripped from the original digimon story! with some changes!
Final post game quest needs to be unlocked through cheats because it was locked behind online battles as well...
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Quick summary! I literally love these games, it's Stockholm syndrome 💖💖💖. also despite the negatives these games aren't that bad! just a bit boring sometimes! Planning is a bit more important in this game as a lot of things depend on how much mechanics you can figure out... honestly I'd say to give it a try! Btw here's a digivolution guide for the game! you can thank me later lol
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DIGIMON STORY LOST EVOLUTION (No official translation)
Pros:
best ds game by far!
More digimon than ever with a built in evolution tree checker to plan out parties much easier!
less grind due to the game giving out more experience per battle, and a longer overall playtime so levels will not suddenly jump for any bosses!
a decent story with fun locations!
optional bosses throughout the game that reference other digimon media!
a reason to grind past levels! (tree of evolution plates, with expand if you want!)
side quests now have a list to see what digimon you need! and actually good rewards for completing them!
NO MORE LOCKED FUSION DIGIMON!!!!
Farms are finally helpful! They give plenty of exp once you unlock the upgrdaes for them!
Cons:
mandatory quests are still here!
you might need to look for a guide to see what digimon have what evolution plates for your personal team!
Ancient beasts and sovereigns are basically post-game digimon...
Post game quest is locked behind 100,000 tamer points... (for reference main game is completed with only 50,000 points necessary)
there is another That boss you will need to grind for.
Only official translation is an English translation made by fans :/ (game isn't hard to follow without a translation, plus there are Eng guides with digimon evolution info sooooo it's more a personal preference :p)
Has pokemon HM system but the digimon have traits that allow them to do specific things on the map... (you get three digimon with traits to help progress, but you do not need to stick with them, just keep this system in mind.)
30 digimon limit :(
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Quick summary! This is unironically one of my favorite games ever! It's game play improves greatly from dawn and dusk, and are very easy to get into without much knowledge of anything! There are a few problems outside of nitpicks, but if you choose one game to play out of all of these, I would 100% recommend this one!
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thesolferino · 3 years
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Power(less)
⤷ smp!dream x gn!reader.
⤷ genre: angst, soulmate au
⤷ word count: 3.7k
⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!
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— summary: you pay a visit to the man you hate most when he exiles your brother/best friend, tommy
If there’s one thing you were sure of in this pathetic, despicable life of yours, it was that you hated Dream.
Honestly, how couldn’t you? He ruined everything you stood for, stomped over all of your plans for a hopeful future before you even started, never let you and your brothers build your life the way you wanted, because he had always been, and always will be, a selfish, narcissistic bastard. No matter how much you tried to negotiate, how many times you cried behind those walls because you knew you’d never be left alone, how many times you begged and pleaded Wilbur to let it go, let it all go, let Dream win because he’ll win every single time, no matter how many times the three of you try to stop him, he never gave up on making your life a living hell.
Despite the fact that you’d spent countless nights up, tossing and turning in your bed, wondering if life like this was really worth it if you’ll forever live in fear, if you can’t leave your window open at night without fear crawling up your spine that maybe, just maybe, he’d throw a bomb inside and kill you in your sleep - despite the fact that you always wondered if maybe you should flee, and never look back - you were one of L’Manburg’s proudest and strongest soldiers, at least for the time when the country was exactly what you built it to be. 
You waved your country’s flag and sung the anthem with equal pride, and you always stood right by Wilbur and Tommy’s side, chin high in the air, stance unwavering in the presence of Dream and those who stood by his side, always ready to show him what L’Manburg citizens were really made of. You shot best with your special crossbow - Wilbur had always complimented you on your eagle’s eye, and while you were built for a battle like the one Dream and Tommy fought for the prize of L’Manburg’s independence, Tommy was far too loud, confident, and forever blinded by his own vanity to have you fight it instead. 
Of course you’d let Tommy have it, despite being aware that he’s far too cocky, beyond his abilities, and that you’d handle it much more swiftly, because he felt the obligation to; because he wouldn’t give in and let you do it. Two sides of you chewed you away to insanity, because Tommy was your favorite - both you, and Wilbur’s - and while you wanted to let him have it, wanted to let him have the title of #1 soldier and have it his way, you also didn’t want him to get beaten by Dream, because you were sure it was going to happen. As much as you despised the man and everything he stood for, you had to admit that he was one hell of a warrior, and quite good with a crossbow.
That’s why, when Tommy got impaled by the arrow, you were the first to run up to him amidst all of Dream Team’s cheers, nursing supplies already out, (Dream had asked if you were so insecure in Tommy’s skills that you brought those along in preparation or if you were so confident that you had brought them to nurse him, instead; Wilbur had to physically hold you back from pouncing on him with the sword strapped to your back) slowly plunging the arrow out of his stomach and assuring him he’d be fine, that his well being meant more than a thousand L’Manburgs did. Dream missed none of your soothing murmurs and the worrying glances you shot to a boy no less than your brother, whether by blood or not, and he chose to turn his back, celebrating another victory. 
He couldn’t look away, though. No matter how hard he tried, his gaze always flew to the two of you.
What did it feel like - to be cared for? He’d have to ask Tommy, or Wilbur - what does it feel like, to have a chunk of your heart? What does it feel like to have you stare at him with flames in your eyes, but flames lit by adoration, and not by resentment? What does it feel like, to have you on his side?
Truth be told - he tried. He tried, he really did. When you first walked into his land, a traveller, somebody from beyond his sight, a fresh pair of eyes with a fresh perspective, he tried to befriend you, because even if he didn’t want to, it seemed like everything in this world brought the two of you together. He always ended up close to you, next to you, observing how you laughed, how your eyes crinkled, how your brows furrowed, how you tapped your fingers when you were bored and swung your legs back and forth when you sat on a wall too high for you. 
One thing you didn’t seem to care for, however, was Dream’s best attribute, and that was power. You didn’t care that he held all land on the palm of his hand, you didn’t care that he appointed and laid off whoever and whenever he pleased, you didn’t care that all looked up to him - you didn’t care that he was most powerful. 
He wasn’t the only one with the power, though. Power comes in different shapes and sizes, and a bold man is a powerful man. A man who stands out holds power, and the two who always stuck out like a sore thumb were Wilbur and Tommy. Because physical strength or resources aren’t always what make a man powerful - an entertainer is a powerful man, an intelligent man is a powerful man, a witty man is a powerful man, but above all, a courageous man is a powerful man. And Wilbur and Tommy were all of the above.
He envied Tommy, because Tommy knew how to get the attention on himself without the use of power. He envied Wilbur, because he had somebody to fight, he had something to stand for, he had a purpose, something in which he could put equal part bravery and intelligence in, both of which he had plenty. He envied the two, because they could be heroes, because he was there to witness their story getting built, while Dream was there from the beginning, and the only witness he had was himself. 
You grew close to the two of them before he even had the chance to try - his chance got wasted before he could even try, because the more Wilbur whispered into your ear and crafted plans, and the more Tommy encouraged you to go with the two of them, the less he saw of you and your shiny smiles. At first, it bothered him to no end, because he saw so much potential in you, both as a friend and as a warrior, and Wilbur just kept on stealing you away from him, over and over again. But then, when he saw you helping build those giant walls, and heard Tommy proudly announce that: “We’ve got Tubbo, Eret and Y/N on our side, too!” shiny smiles became dull, menacing even, to the point he didn’t want to look at them anymore.
And when the war had started and you proudly defended Tommy, no matter what, with an insane glint in your eye that he only recognised from reflections, he realised that the chance had fully, entirely slipped out of his fingers, and you’re nothing more than an enemy anymore. The opportunity to get you on his side was long gone, if it ever existed in the first place.
You were with them through everything, thick and thin - you were there when Tommy turned over the discs, cheering on Wilbur during the election, even retaliating against Schlatt once he revoked the citizenship of your two best friends, nothing short of brothers, and leaving with them, spitting on his shoes before running amongst a sea of arrows that were being thrown your way, escaping out of the country you built of your own blood, sweat and tears like a criminal, like a foreigner, like an outsider and not the very founder of the land they stood on.
You were always by their side, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you always agreed - you had gotten into way too many passive aggressive fights with Technoblade, told Tommy and Wilbur far too many times that he was nothing but trouble, told them that there is no more dangerous man than a man with power, and you thought they’d learned that lesson with Dream, long, long ago. But nonetheless, you stayed through it all - you stayed through the makings of Pogtopia, Henry’s unfortunate death, and the festival, at which you didn’t fail to shout “I TOLD YOU SO”s at Wilbur and Tommy despite being in a near-death situation. Technoblade suffered a kick in the groin, because you just couldn’t help yourself, which led you into a sword fight that was way more than you bargained for, and was ultimately stopped by Tommy who forgave Techno just to stop the two of you fighting, not looking forward to having your head cut off in front of him. 
You were there to see Wilbur spiral, breaking apart in the prison of his own mind, you were there to see the glint of heroism in his eye get bent into one of a villain, you saw him become the man he had once swore to you he’d never become. And perhaps, when you fought for L’Manburg again, deep down, you knew what would happen; but you still fought tooth and nail, desperate to get back what you once had. You fought next to Technoblade, even though both of you knew you hadn’t forgiven him, and you never will - you fought next to Wilbur, even though you knew he’s not the same Wilbur you once knew, even though you knew L’Manburg would never truly be L’Manburg again, because its founders aren’t the same as they once were, when their heart was full of foolish hope and love. 
You were there to see Wilbur mouth an apology to you, and even though you didn’t know what he would do, you knew that the apology wasn’t an apology, but a goodbye; at least a late goodbye to the Wilbur you once knew. You were there to see the betrayal in Tommy’s eyes when Technoblade turned against you, summoning monsters with his own hands, forcing the rest of you to kill them while he watched. You were close, so close, too close to putting an arrow through his heart, ready to get rid of him, tired of the tears and the blood you shed over getting back what was always rightfully yours; but you didn’t, because Tommy’s hand laid on top of yours, telling you not to do it. So you didn’t, and instead you aimed for the porcelain mask that haunted you in your dreams, the cause of all destruction. Unfortunately, you missed, with his foot jumping back right before the arrow was supposed to plunge straight through his chest, and you fell to the floor, defeated.
You were there when L’Manburg’s government formed again - you were there when Tommy burnt down George’s house on accident, and, unfortunately for you, you were there when your younger brother got exiled. You were there, watching him get escorted. You watched him leave. You watched that monster of a man escort him out, kick him out, away from you, from everyone he loved. You watched him, and gripped your crossbow with tears in your eyes, swearing to yourself that you’d never let him get away with this. 
That’s why you stomped into the Community House the next day, knife strapped to the inside of your thigh, sword fastened on your back, crossbow slinged over your shoulder, fire in your eyes, demanding to see him. And sure enough, as soon as you spoke his name, he was in front of you, cracked mask covering his face, dirty blonde hair combed, as if nothing had happened in the first place, as if he hadn’t made life a living hell for all of you.
“Hel-”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you cut him off, speaking through gritted teeth as you took a step towards him, heavy boots creating even heavier footsteps on the wooden floor. The mask remained expressionless as always, and his body language gave away nothing. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Dream? Is this funny to you? Are we some kind of sick joke to you? Is that what this is? Are you having fun, Dream?” you continued, almost spitting at him. “Take off that mask, talk to me like a fucking man.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said, hand shooting to grip the porcelain at the mention of his mask, although he simply adjusted it slightly, still leaving it on.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. How could you kick him out?! He’s a fucking child, Dream! A child!” you yelled, hand clenching into a fist.
“Is this about Tommy? I’m sorry, Y/N, but it was not my decision. The people, and Tubbo, decided that he should be exiled- I just did my job.” he claimed, still stiff, expressionless, and you fired back almost before he even finished the sentence, rage lighting your whole body ablaze.
“Right, because you only have power over other people when it fucking fits you! You only have power when you want to! You’re only the most powerful person in this whole fucking land when you want to terrorise other people! What are you, Technoblade? Poor baby got succumbed by peer pressure? Miss me with that bullshit, Dream. You and I both know that if you stood up for Tommy, and refused to exile him, nobody would’ve done shit! But no, you chose to exile him, and you know that. So at least admit to your actions and don’t shift blame, asshole.” you spat, fury getting the best of you, and apparently him, too, because he pulled his mask off so quickly that the strings almost broke, menacing green eyes boring into yours.
“He shouldn’t have burned down George’s house, he shouldn’t have tried robbing George, he shouldn’t have been a criminal when he’s vice president of a country! All actions have consequences, and he has to suffer those consequences to learn!” he borderline shouted, defending himself.
“He’s supposed to learn by being exiled and ripped away from everyone he loves? That’s how he’s supposed to learn not to fucking rob people? He’s sixteen, Dream! Sixteen! He’s a fucking kid- yes, he makes mistakes, but so do we! And we’re adults! Full, grown, fucking adults. What has he done to you to deserve this, you fucking psycho?!” you yelled, and you briefly saw him grit his teeth, jaw clenching.
“I’m not a psycho and you won’t be calling me that. He can’t go unpunished for the crimes he committed. Tommy is not as innocent as you make him out to be. And, once again, this was not my decision, it was made by Tubbo. If you have any issues, take it up with him, not me.” his eyes go darker than they were before, mirroring a brewing storm with no glints of the sun anymore.
“Right, because you’re so innocent. You never committed any crimes! You’ve never done anything bad! Our favorite good guy, Dream. Never tried to kill any minors. Bless his heart.” you mocked.
“I don’t fight anybody unless they provoke me first. Every time I fought Tommy, I wished I didn’t have to.” 
“I really expected more from you, Dream, I really did. I expected you to at least fucking admit to your actions, at least give me a proper excuse as to why you haven’t left me and my brothers alone from the start even though we wanted nothing but to live in peace and independence, why you do so much of the fucked up shit you do, but I guess I expected too much from you. You’re nothing - even Technoblade is more of a man than you, you know that?” you asked, leaning on one foot lazily. You see his hand clench - someone’s getting mad. “Technoblade admits to his fucking actions. Technoblade has had his goals set from the start, he’s always made them clear, and even though he’s a dirty traitor, at the end of the day, it’s still your fault for siding with him. But you - you’re a liar. You’re a liar, and a manipulator, and you never play fair - you always play dirty and play with people’s emotions and that’s how you win.”
You continue: “That’s because you can’t win fairly. That’s because you lose when you play fair. You think you have power, but you don’t. You just play by a different set of rules than everybody else, and we let you. Power will turn a man evil, Dream, but you’ve been evil from the start. People will always fear you because you trick everyone into believing you’re far more powerful than you really are - but you know what people will do with me, Wilbur, and Tommy, that they’ll never do with you?”
Silence.
“They’ll respect us. And you are a man worthy of no respect.”
You unleash your sword, pressing the blade to his throat in a matter of seconds, ready to push it through with no preparation but he grips your hand before you can do it, and he’s about to speak, when your eyes dart to his, and suddenly, your vision blurs, a movie playing behind your eyelids without you closing your eyes at all. 
It’s almost like you see the events play out in the depths of his gaze - you see him, the real him, who stands before you, and you see his face mirrored in the scenes that play out, you see him staring right at you through some kind of screen, a smile plastered on his face. His features look softer, and his eyes don’t glint the same way they do now, but it’s not a bad thing; they look warm, homely. Something bursts in your chest the more you look at him, and it all goes by so fast, but you manage to somehow catch all of it. 
You manage to catch his warm smile just as the days pass in flying colors right before your eyes, you manage to feel heat spread through your chest when you look at the man before you, you manage to see him cooking, and laughing, and running, and driving, and crying, and sleeping, and kissing you and it all feels so odd but so perfect at the same time. You’re looking at Dream, but it’s not him - you call him a different name. You can make out the silhouette of the actual Dream, who still grips your wrist, behind the scenes of you and the man with a striking resemblance to him, and you wonder if this is happening to him, too.
You see him on one knee, at a beach, and you feel yourself crying even though you don’t know what’s going on. You see him in a field, and you can make out a man who looks awfully like Sapnap sitting on a plastic chair in the front row among many, wiping tears before your gaze turns back to Dream, who grins at you, dressed in a tuxedo. You see a young boy with blonde hair running around the house, laughing, while you try to catch him, and then Dream appears in front of you, picking the boy up before you could. You see his face wrinkle as the days pass, and you finally see him close his eyes one last time while tears run down your face uncontrollably, and the whole thing stops. The scenes disappear and you’re snapped back into reality, Dream’s teary eyes boring into yours. 
And that’s when you realise.
You harshly pull away from his grip, eyes wide in shock, putting your sword back in place as you shake your head in disbelief. The tears don’t stop flowing, and you can’t tell if it’s shock, horror, disappointment or betrayal - betrayal in who? Fate, you suppose. 
“N-No way. No way. No.” You keep shaking your head, voice trembling as you back away from him. He can barely collect himself, too, staring at you as if you’re not real, as if he’s seeing a ghost.
“We’re- no. Fuck no. Fuck this shit, dude.” You laugh dryly, no humor in it whatsoever, a mix of disbelief and fear still weighing down on your voice as he tries to step towards you, wiping the tears off his face.
“We’re- we’re soulmates.” He stutters, but manages to ground himself way before you do, gripping your wrist again, and you feel almost electrocuted when a spark shoots through your whole body at his touch. You pull away, again, stepping backwards, praying there’s no wall behind you.
“No.” you repeat like a broken record, not even bothering to wipe the tears. “No- I- there must be a m-mistake, this can’t be-”
“There’s no mistake, Y/N. You’re my soulmate.” He takes both of your hands into his, holding your fingers gently, and it takes all the power in your body not to burst out crying again. 
“Y-You’re no soulmate of mine.” you gulp, pulling your hands away once again, finally managing to somehow collect your thoughts. “Fuck you. I don’t care what- what we fucking are. I’ll never love you.” 
You see him visibly stiffen at your words, mouth parting, and you almost feel bad. Almost.
“You can’t- you can’t go against fate like that. We’re soulmates, Y/N.” He sounds hurt. You manage to convince yourself that you don’t care.
“Watch me do it.” You spit, anger recollecting in your gut once again. “Fucking watch me. Find yourself somebody else. I’ll never forgive you.” 
“Listen, I’ll bring Tommy back, just listen-”
“So now you can suddenly go against Tubbo’s orders? When it fits you? Fuck you. You don’t need to bring Tommy back, because I’m leaving with him. Him and Wilbur were more soulmates to me than you ever, ever will be.” 
And with one last glare in his direction, you turn on your heel, stomping out of the Community House, rage burning your whole body as he watches you leave. 
A powerful man needs those who will give him power. Watching you walk away, Dream realised that one day, he’ll have no one.
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Meant To Be (iii)
Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader
Summary: After meeting Garcia you make quick work of helping with the case, desperate to prove yourself to Hotch. Once the two of you help the team wrap everything up it’s time for them to return home. Which also means it’s time for you and Hotch to talk. One on one.
Warnings: Nothing in this chapter.
Word Count: 5,288
A/N: I wanna say I’m super happy you guys are enjoying this series cause honestly I’m having a lot of fun writing it! I love you all dearly. (If you’re just now finding this series, that’s perfectly alright! I’m glad you’re here! Feel free to catch up and enjoy the rest of the story. Here’s a link to Part 1 and Part 2 of Meant To Be.)
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The elevator ride to the bottom floor of the building was quick, allowing you to make your way to Garcia’s office in a matter of minutes. There was a plaque up next to the door, indicating that you were in the right place. Taking a moment to steady yourself you exhale before knocking on the door. A voice on the other side tells you to come in so you do. Around you are dozens of impressive looking monitors, all of which are doing something different. On top of the long L-shaped desk there were several small trinkets and toys, bringing a sort of life into the dark room. The woman sitting in front of you spins around in her chair to look at you, a quick flash of confusion on her face. She looks extremely kind and everything about her appearance makes you want to smile. 
“Hello. My name is Y/N L/N. Are you Penelope Garcia?” 
“Yes, I am. What can I do for you?” Once you’re sure you’re in the right place you step forward to shake her hand. She stands so that you are both on the same level now, shifting awkwardly. 
“Sorry to barge in like this. Everything has gone pretty fast this morning. I’m a new agent for the BAU. Today is my first day. The rest of the team just left on a case and SSA Hotchner asked me to stay behind and help from here.” Her face lights up with a bright smile.
“Oh, that’s awesome! It’s really nice to meet you! Please come in, sit down. Make yourself comfortable.” With this, she pulls another chair up to the desk and then sits back down in her own. “I didn’t actually know we had any new agents joining us. That being said, welcome! I’m almost always here by myself so the company will be nice. You and I can get to know each other.” You nod with a smile, watching her as she continues what she was doing. There are several different tabs open across the screens with loads of information that she seems to be compiling. When she sees your incredulous face she laughs.
“I know, it’s a lot. I’m just trying to get as much preliminary information as I can to send to the team. That’s what you’ll be helping me with. We collect research, data, important records. Anything they need to find out, we provide. Kind of cool, right?” Remaining silent, you nod. Upon seeing this, Garcia stops typing for a moment. “I know it may not seem as exciting as field work but it’s still very important. Don’t worry, I’ll make it fun. I promise you won’t be bored.” Patting your knee, she continues typing and you watch carefully now. This is where you will be until the case is over so you intend to make the absolute best of it. Everyone on the team has their own special skills and now is the time to learn from Garcia. 
“So what exactly are you looking for right now?” 
“I am compiling a list of the victim’s friends and family, plus witnesses from the robberies who might be able to give us any information. This will give the others a clear list of where to go first. I’m also seeing what I can find about the people who were at the banks on the days of the robberies in case there’s anything useful they need to know. Financial troubles, criminal records, anything to possibly link the witnesses to one another.” Scooting your chair forward so you can see better, you lean an elbow on the desk. 
“What can I help with?” You ask hopefully. 
“Oh, I think that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t even count on one hand how many times I’ve had someone down here and all they do is sit and look over my shoulder. Sorry, rambling. I can get you logged into a monitor here and it looks like the next thing on my list was looking into the victim’s workplace. Sound good?” 
“Yes, absolutely.” She moves over quickly and gets a separate monitor opened so you can begin researching. 
“We’ll probably do what research we can in the next twenty to thirty minutes and then we’ll call the team to tell them what we’ve found out.” With that, you make quick work of doing everything you can in the time you have. Even if it is the last thing you ever do, you will prove to Aaron Hotchner just how valuable a team member you are. 
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The jet takes off fairly soon once the team is onboard. They all stow their go-bags and begin settling in for the flight. It is going to be a longer one today so they are all preparing themselves for the journey. Aaron finds a seat near a far window where he sets the case file down in front of himself and begins reading. His mind is swimming with thoughts and he will do anything to quiet them. The scene plays out over and over in his head, the memory still painfully fresh. Why had he said those things? He was unnecessarily harsh and he is fully aware of this. Now the first memory you’ll have of starting your dream job will be your new boss treating you appallingly. What had even compelled him to speak to you that way? Seeing you had overwhelmed him. The way you looked when you came into his office for the first time. The way your hair framed your face, the light hopefulness in your eyes, the way you captivated him with your movements. Standing there, just feet away from him, you had looked just as beautiful as the first day he met you. God, why did he lie like that? How could he have said he didn’t recognize you when you had stayed in his thoughts more times than he would like to admit over the past year? All the emotions he felt at the mere thought of you made him nauseous and he had no way of understanding them. As badly as he felt for it, he knew that for the time being it would be best to let you work from the BAU headquarters. 
“Hotch, are you okay?” JJ’s voice brings him quickly back to reality. The fact that she could see how deeply in thought he was makes him feel an odd sense of shame and he straightens in his seat. 
“Of course, I’m fine.” With this, she goes back to her own seat. With a huff of exhaustion, Hotch continues reading. The cabin is silent for a time as the other team members sit reading their case files. 
“So,” Morgan’s voice breaks the quiet. “What do we think of Y/N?” The mention of your name causes Hotch to perk up against his will. 
“Well, I like her.” Emily is the first to chime in. “I know you guys all got to meet her before me but there’s just something about her. An inherent sweetness. I’m really excited to work with her.” 
“Me, too,” JJ says next. “I thought she was kind and open. In this job, that kind of personality is hard to find. I just hope the things she sees doesn’t cause her to lose that. The world needs more kind people, not less. She seems tough though. I think she can handle it.” 
“I totally agree,” Morgan adds, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “She’s got a little bit of fierceness in her but I like that. You’ve gotta be tough to do this job but she’s also sweet. That’s important too. Plus, that kid’s got the cutest smile. Kind of reminds me of my sisters.” At the mention of your smile, Hotch closes his eyes briefly trying to picture that smile directed at him. He quickly catches himself and looks back down at the file. 
“Well, I can’t say I know her that well yet but she seems intelligent. She certainly has eagerness to learn. I think that will help her be successful. It’s very ... refreshing.” Spencer says with a small smile.
“I agree. Right off the bat she’s got a very likable energy,” Rossi begins letting himself trail off for a moment. “Although, I have to say there is something about her that is so familiar. I can’t quite place how I might know her though. Her name too, I recognize it. For a second I thought she recognized me too but I can’t be sure.” The rest of the team watches him for a moment as he tries to recollect how he knows you but he quickly comes up blank. “I’m sure I’ll think of it eventually. Nevertheless she seems like a good kid. I’m excited to see her at work. Just a shame we’ll all have to wait.” 
Hearing this Aaron shifts in his seat, knowing that the comment is directed at him since he was the one that made you stay behind. He is suddenly very aware of the other team members looking at him. 
“Yeah, Hotch. Why isn’t she here? I thought for sure you’d wanna see what she can do.” Derek locks eyes with Aaron, causing him to debate how to answer the question. All his life Hotch has worked to control his feelings and the way that they manifest so his face remains expressionless as he thinks for a short second.
“I think that for right now her time would be better spent helping Garcia and getting used to her new environment. I agree that she does seem very intelligent and more than capable. I would just like to speak with her one on one first before thrusting her into the high intensity atmosphere that comes with our line of work.” However, this answer doesn’t seem to satisfy Morgan’s curiosity. 
“She told me when she came out of your office that you said you didn’t remember her. Is that true?” This continued line of questioning makes his blood begin to boil. Aaron Hotchner of all people knows that lies are what cause the foundations of trust to crumble. If he can’t be honest with himself, how can he expect to be honest with his team? And yet, he finds himself unable to expose his own misdeed. 
“Yes, that is correct. We’ve had a lot of cases come and go in the last few years and no one should be expected to remember every interaction they have in that length of time. According to her it was only one day and it was a long time ago at that. I apologized to her and she understood. That is the end of it.” 
“Look, I’m not passing judgement Hotch. I’m just saying I can understand why she was so hurt,” Hearing this causes his heart to clench. “She looks up to you. She didn’t even have to tell me that, I could just see it. You mentored her in a time that was very uncertain, when she had a lot to prove. She still has a lot to prove and I’m sure she thought that you would have her back and the first thing you tell her is that you don’t even remember who she is? I get it man, you’re under a lot of stress right now but she’s a part of your team. I just thought you of all people would be a little more sensitive than that.” 
His words cut right through Aaron’s heart like a knife but before he has a chance to say anything the laptop screen in the center of the cabin lights up, revealing you and Garcia. Glad for a break from the tension the rest of the team members look toward the screen. With one last glance at Morgan, Hotch leans towards him. “We will discuss this later.” His voice is firm and dangerous but he pulls away to look at the laptop. “What did you find?” He directs at the two of you.
Seeing him causes you to straighten in your seat as you ready yourself to put on your most professional face. Garcia begins telling everyone what she was able to find out about the victim. She has significantly more information than you do but once she’s done she allows you to share what you found. The victim worked at a local grocery store but he had been previously employed at the bank where the robbery took place. The team begin building a rough profile based on the information. You listen closely to their analysis of the unsubs, making mental notes on what you might add to the profile. Before you have a chance to add anything, Hotch thanks the two of you for your work and hangs up. For a moment, you could swear you saw a hint of sadness when he looked at you but you were sure it was just a glitch on the screen. 
“Sorry sweetpea. I could totally tell you wanted to add something. They can be pretty abrupt like that sometimes.” You simply give a small shrug. “Well, why don’t you tell me what it was? It’ll give you a little practice for building profiles.” She scoots to the edge of her chair, looking at you intently to which you give a small laugh.
“Well, as we know all of the unsubs are large burly men. The five of them could easily subdue the few weaker people that were present at each of the robberies and yet they chose to bring guns. I believe this shows that they feel a certain sense of inadequacy in their everyday lives. Despite their masculine appearance I would suspect they all have mediocre jobs where they are looked down upon or treated poorly. It’s possible that they all work at the same place but I would imagine they probably met somewhere else. Maybe a support group of some sort. The use of weapons gives them a sense of power over the victims that helps them live out their mass fantasy. The victim of the last crime scene was shot in the head which indicates some personal relationship between him and the unsub who pulled the trigger. That could be a good place to start.” 
“Well, it definitely makes sense to me. Maybe we can start looking in to possible support groups for these type of men. Oh, and anyone that might possibly have had reason to kill our victim.” Garcia immediately begins typing and you scoot closer to her side. 
“Shouldn’t we wait for the order from Hotch?” She laughs at this. 
“Trust me, sweetheart. At the end of the day he’s gonna thank us for the head start. One thing to know about the boss man. He likes to see initiative but he also wants you to follow his exact orders. It’s a fine balance but once you figure out how to work the line, he’s gonna love you for it.” The thought of Hotch loving you for anything at all in the world makes your heart flutter. Almost instantly you stop that train of thought and berate yourself for even entertaining it. 
“Well, I guess we better get started then.” The rest of the day goes smoothly. You and Garcia coordinate everything beautifully, finding a good amount of information that you save to send to Hotch at the most convenient time. The day seems to be over almost as quickly as it began and you thank Garcia before heading out to your car. The drive home seems to be much more monotonous than before. It seems like you’re back inside your apartment and stretched out on the couch before you can hardly blink. Rolling over, you reach for your phone which you had thrown on the coffee table. With a groan, you begin dialing your sister’s number. As much as today sucked there was no one in the world you’d rather vent to than your sister. 
“Well hey there babe. I’ve been patiently awaiting your call. Give me just a minute to get sat down. I want to hear every last detail.” There are sounds of shuffling on the other side of the phone as she finds a seat. “Okay, I’m all good. Now, tell me about your first day at the BAU! Was it everything you dreamed it would be?” 
“Yeah, not exactly,” You laugh. “It was kind of rough to be honest.” There is a moment of silence as you think how to begin.
“Okay. Start at the beginning, walk me through it.” 
“Alright. Well, I got inside and I was honestly just in awe of being there, just getting to stand in that room. It felt like I was invincible. Derek Morgan was the first one to talk to me. He was just as charming as I remembered. Anyway, he introduced me to the rest of the team and we got to talk for a bit which was really nice, you know? From the get go I really felt like part of the team.” 
“Now you know I hate to interrupt but all of this sounds great!” 
“Yeah, well, that was the best part of the day and it didn’t last very long. After I met everyone I went up to Aaron Hotchner’s office to give him my paperwork. I’m sure you know by now that I was pretty excited to see him again, right? Well, when I told him how excited I was to be working with him again he told me that he didn’t actually know who I was. He completely forgot about me. I mean, I guess I get it. It’s been a year and a half and he meets a lot of people. Why would he remember me specifically?”
“Y/N, don’t invalidate your own feelings. What he said upset you and it’s okay to be hurt. That would have hurt my feelings too. You’re a really great person and he sucks for not thinking about you ever since he met you.” Hearing this, you can’t help but laugh a bit. Her ability to defend you no matter what always cheers you up. 
“Thank you. I appreciate that. I just wish he thought the same. Anyway, I gave him my paperwork so I could travel with the team. They got a case this morning and I was planning to go with them but for some reason Hotch made me stay behind even though I am cleared to be in the field. It just really bummed me out because I was super ready to get out there and start working but I got benched for my very first case. He had me stay with this girl named Garcia, she’s the team’s technical analyst. I mean, she’s really sweet and we worked super well together but I just wish I could have been out there doing the things that I spent seven years of my life training for.” 
“I am so sorry. That sucks. I know how excited you were. Look at the bright side, this is only your first case. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to get out there and prove yourself. It’s all gonna work out.” Unable to keep from smiling, you roll over on your side. 
“Thanks. I really hope you’re right.” Sensing the fact that you’re still upset she decides to help by changing the subject. 
“So, who all did you meet today? I know you already knew a few of the team members but was there anybody new?” 
“Yeah, Elle and Gideon are no longer there. I’m really sad I missed getting to work with them but the people I met seem really amazing. The first girl I met was named Emily Prentiss. She was really nice. The other was a guy named David Rossi.” When you finish your sentence there is nothing but silence on the other end of the phone. You wait a minute for your sister’s response but there is nothing. Before you can ask what’s wrong she chimes in again. 
“Did you say David Rossi?” There is a tone in her voice that you don’t recognize and it causes concern to stir in your stomach. 
“Yeah, why? What’s up?” There is another moment of silence. 
“It’s -- it’s nothing. I shouldn’t bring it up. You’ve already had a rough day.” As if she can sense your anxiety she continues. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I promise I’ll tell you later, okay? I just don’t think we should talk about it right now, that’s all.” As much as you want to pry you can tell that no matter how much you ask, you’re not getting the answer out of her. With a sense of unease you agree and try changing the conversation again. Once you’ve changed the topic to something other than work you can feel her ease again and the two of you talk for nearly 45 minutes. After a while you decide to call it a night and shortly afterwards you find yourself in bed. You hadn’t even realized how exhausted you were until your head hit the pillow. Your sleep is dreamless which you decide in the morning is probably a good thing. 
++++++++++
The remainder of the case is spent hunkered down in Garcia’s office either doing frantic research or simply getting to know one another. In just a short while the two of you become very fast friends. You realize quickly that you share a lot of common interests and all of your conversations are endlessly fascinating. It also doesn’t take you very long to realize that you actually enjoy the work that you do with her. There is quite a bit of skill required to dig as deeply and accurately as the two of you do. It is a race against the clock to find everything you need in order to help the team and there is a certain level of excitement that comes with that. Of course you still wish you were out in the field but in the end you learn a lot and make a good friend along the way. The case ends rather succinctly with all five unsubs found and arrested with no more casualties along the way. It’s a good feeling, knowing that you helped to catch the bad guys and no one had to die for you to do so. The day the team is set to return you and Garcia head out for coffee before they show up, figuring that you deserve a little treat after all of your hard work. You make light conversation as you make your way back into the building just in time for the team to arrive. You watch them each make their way to their desks, setting down their bags and taking a moment to rest. Of course the last one to walk in is Hotch who heads straight up to his office, shutting the door behind him. 
When you feel like it’s an appropriate time you make your way over to Morgan’s desk. Upon seeing you his lips crack into a wide smile. 
“Well hey sweetheart! I have to say, you did awesome work on this case.” As he says this, he extends his hand for a high five which you quickly grant him. “I know it wasn’t easy having to sit out but you did great. I’m proud of you.” It takes everything in you not to blush. 
“Thanks. I learned a lot and I made a good friend along the way.”
“Yeah, Garcia’s pretty great isn’t she?” He says with a knowing smile.
“She definitely is. She talks about you a lot, you know.” 
“Oh, I know. Baby girl just can’t stop thinking about me. Not that I blame her, of course.” At this you lightly punch his arm. 
“You are both such teases.” This makes Morgan laugh. 
“We gotta keep things interesting.” He leans forward as though he’s about to start his paperwork but he quickly leans back to look at you. “Hey, now that I’m back we gotta go out for drinks tonight. Everyone else is already game so long as you are.” 
“Yeah, I’d like that.” You confirm with a grin.
“Great. You know, I’d say I’m buying but I kind of feel like you owe me.” Your brow furrows in confusion.
“What do you mean by that?” 
“Well, I was trying to get some answers for you so I asked Hotch why he wouldn’t let you on the case and he royally chewed me out for it. In his defense I probably shouldn’t have asked in front of the rest of the team but that decision still just doesn’t sit right with me.” Morgan’s words mingle in your head. It doesn’t sit right with you either but it isn’t really your place to question your boss’ orders. 
“I’m sorry he got upset with you. I do appreciate you defending me though. You’re my knight in shining denim.”
“Anytime kid. I’m happy to help.” Getting to talk to Morgan has almost instantly lifted your spirits. However, it doesn’t take long for your heart to drop into your stomach. 
“Agent L/N. May I speak to you in my office please?” You hadn’t even noticed that Hotch had come out of his office until his voice drew your attention to him. With a quick look at Morgan, who gives you a reassuring glance, you push yourself off his desk and make your way over to where Hotch is standing. Once you’re at his side he extends a hand, allowing you to step inside first. He follows quickly, shutting the door behind him. “Please, have a seat.” He says, gesturing towards a leather couch on the far wall. As you begin to sit on one end he takes up residence on the other, his knee just inches away from yours. Once you’re both settled he focuses all of his attention on you. He doesn’t seem angry but you aren’t holding your breath. It’s best to just stay professional and speak with him earnestly. 
“I’m glad to see you all back safely sir.” You begin. After the stress of the case, you want to make sure he knows that as hurt as you were by his previous decision you harbor no ill will towards him. 
“Thank you. It’s not very often that cases end as well as this one did. You understand that, don’t you? This was a special circumstance.” 
“Yes, I realize that. I’m just grateful that it did end happily even if it was just this once.” There is an intensity in the way he watches you.
“Good. I just want to make sure you fully know what to expect.” 
“I do sir. I did the day that I applied for school. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Staying silent for a moment he nods as if in thought. 
“I know before I left I said we would be able to talk. I’d like to learn a little bit more about you and from there I’ll be able to evaluate your abilities before taking you into the field. I know it wasn’t the decision you were hoping for but I hope you understand it nonetheless.”
“Of course. It’s not my place to question you and in the end I learned a lot from Garcia. Plus she was nice to work with.” 
“Good. I’m very glad to hear that you were able to make the most of the situation.” He stops for a moment, his gaze relaxing. “I wanted to tell you how well you did on this case. A challenge was presented to you and you handled it with grace. The information you provided was incredibly helpful and your suggestions were very well thought out. I was very impressed.” The softness in his eyes as he praises you leaves a fluttering sensation in your stomach. Throughout the entirety of the case you had been so hell bent on proving yourself to him and hearing him say that you had done well made every hour of hard work worth it. As much as your heart is singing you have to remind yourself to be calm. Even though he is being kind to you now, he had made his feelings known to you during your first meeting. There is no reason to read into things. Clearly he doesn’t feel what you feel. 
“Thank you sir. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed when I was left behind but I realized that I’m grateful to be here no matter what. I worked really hard to get here, to be doing this kind of work, and not everyone gets the chance to do what they’re truly meant to be doing. As heartbreaking as the outcome of this job usually is, I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.” With every word the two of you are locked into one another’s eyes. For a moment you can almost swear he is holding his breath. 
“I appreciate that sense of purpose. I will always support my team but it makes it easier with members who are invested.” 
“I am. Completely. I’m here. I know you haven’t gotten a real chance to see me work but please know that my heart is in this.” 
“That was never in question,” Hotch pauses, letting his eyes fall to his lap as he considers his next sentence. “I believe now that I made a rash decision in asking you to stay behind. I can see that you are mentally prepared to be in the field. I apologize for my harsh words. I of course can’t say anything for your physical performance yet but I won’t be able to evaluate the full extent of your abilities until I am able to watch you in the field. On the next case I would like you to join the rest of the team.” A breath of relief leaves your lips.
“Of course. I’m ready to get to work.”
“I know. You’ll have the chance soon enough. In the meantime, if you have any questions or concerns feel free to come speak with me.” 
“Thank you sir.” Hotch simply nods in response, beginning to stand. You follow his actions, gathering that he is done with the conversation. As you make your way to the door, feeling much lighter than when you came in, he stops you.
“Agent L/N,” The sound of his voice causes you to turn back. “I just wanted to say again that I’m sorry for not remembering you. I never meant to hurt you. It isn’t that you were forgettable. It’s just that a lot has happened in the last year.” This apology seems much more heartfelt than before and you try to hide a smile. 
“I forgive you, sir.” With that you take your leave, making your way right back to Morgan’s desk. The shift in your mood must be palpable because he looks up at you with a smile.
“That’s not the face of someone that just got yelled at by Hotch.” 
“No, no he didn’t yell at me. He was just telling me I did a good job and he cleared me to work in the field on the next case.” 
“Good for you, kid. I’m glad we’re finally gonna get a chance to see what you can really do,” Nodding you rest against the edge of his desk again. “Now, see? That wasn’t too bad was it?” Looking back towards Hotch’s office you can see him bent over his desk, filling out paperwork. Being able to watch him for a moment without fear of falling apart allows you to crack a small smile.
“No. I guess it wasn’t.” 
Tags:  @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut @ohpedromypedro @ssahotchie @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711​ @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester  @hotch-stufff @annadorothxa @canadailluminate @yoshigguk @gothicxbarbie @romanogersendgame​​
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basically a Striker x male imp with powerful regeneration powers, the two knew each other before Striker worked as a noble assassin, y/n by having these powers was almost always in extreme danger situations (like fighting a noble without a head and still somehow win), the two constantly bickered and usually ended up with broken bones. Now these days they meet again after years without seeing each other and with repressed feelings they finally have time to talk... after fighting a little more
Striker x Male Imp with a healing factor.
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You and Striker first met each other years ago.
The two of you ran into each other during a job. You both had been hired to kill some petty mob boss.
Striker was seconds away from killing the target, when you jumped through the guy's skylight splatting onto the ground.
Jumping up you effortlessly killed the mob boss and all his bodyguards.
Striker confronted you outside the building, surprised at how good you look after falling through a plate glass windows.
He told you that was good work, if sloppy, but that was his kill. And he just couldn't tolerate theives.
He was surprised by just how nonchalant you were, as though he were telling you something you'd heard a hundred times.
You told him a job is a job, and you wouldn't hold it against him if it were the other way around. And much to Strikers surprise, you turned, and began walking away from him.
Striker, froze, processing what was happening, before he raised his rifle and blew your brains out.
Usually didn't like shooting people in the back, especially a fellow assassin like you. But hey, you practically asked him to do it.
He began to leave, only for you to suddenly jump him from behind, scratching up his shoulders and back, almost managing to cut his throat.
He threw you off, before spinning around and fired three more shots into your chest. That seemed to keep you down this time.
Dragging himself away, he looked back to find you weren't there.
He found himself on edge for weeks after that, never sure If you were gonna go coming looking for pay back.
He only calmed down after running into you at a bar.
And much to his surprise you didn't seem to hold any animosity towards him, in fact, you actually offered to buy him a drink.
Not wanting to offend you, he said yes.
He ended up actually enjoying the night, the two of you having a lively conversation over a few drinks
He couldnt help but ask about the whole, "I shot you in the head, why aren't you dead" thing.
So over a few glasses of whiskey, you explained that you had a serious healing factor, so serious, you were borderline immortal.
Needless to say Striker was amazed and honestly found it kinda hard to believe.
Although what happened next put it all into perspective.
A large demon walked up to you, saying a few words he sunk a large blade into your chest.
Before he could draw his pistol you placed your hand on his shoulder.
Taking a large gulp of your drink, you pulled the blade from your chest and plunged it into the demons stomach. And like nothing had happened, you went back to the conversation.
After that Striker finished his drink, thanking you before he got the fuck out of there.
That was not the last time you and Striker crossed paths. The two of you often ending up taking the same job.
You always having an advantage as you could just recklessly run into a fight, absorbing every attack before killing the target, and walking away unscathed. Where as Striker had to more carefully think his strikes through.
And much to your surprise and joy, you found that through the many jobs you and Striker fought over, you developed something of a frienemy complex.
As annoying as you stealing his jobs was, he couldn't deny, he was having the most fun of his life.
Striker was an extraordinary Imp and it was exceedingly rare he found anyone on his level. So getting to test his skills against you was great.
The two of you were constantly fighting.
Most of the fights were picked by you, usually finding something petty to fight over.
You found the fights good fun, since you weren't really in any danger and Striker always gave his all in a fight.
Your fights got more common, Striker randomly attacking you on the street. The two of you fighting for hours, both refusing to submit.
Bloody knuckles, bruised bodies and broken noses, the two of you were relentless.
And oddly enough, between the brutal smackdowns and all night benders, you found you began enjoying each other's company.
It was an odd dynamic.
The way you could go from brutal fighting, to casually enjoying a meal together, back to a brutal melee.
Though despite your questionable relationship, the teo of you ended up seeing less and less of each other.
Striker began taking much higher risk jobs, often taking on nobility, and as such becoming harder to find.
While you on the other hand, with the pile of cash you made through your killing work you decided to take up several hobbies.
Painting, music, craft, but you would quickly grow bored of them, they were all too easy.
So you decided to travel, taking up any job that caught your fancy.
You tried to let Striker know, you know, for old times sake. But just couldn't get in contact wirh him.
A by-product of being known as a royal killer, you suppose.
You travelled for a few years, traveling the seven rings, taking up various jobs and drastically expanding your resume.
Eventually you'd find yourself in the wrath ring, finding work on a very quaint little ranch.
Usually you'd spend a couple months on the job before moving on to the next one. You'd done this for years, never sticking around for more than six months.
But you found yourself sticking around.
Life on the ranch was good. It was lots of hard work, but you were never bored. And the annual blood moon festival was always something to look forward too.
And over time, you found yourself genuinely enjoying your work. finally finding some sort of purpose in your life, finding yourself being treated like a member of the family. Eventually you worked your way up to foreman.
It wasn't long after a tornado tore through the ranch, you and another worker getting caught up in it.
Only managing to survive because of your healing factor.
You limped back to the ranch, you had to at least act like you were injured. The whole family was overjoyed to see you alive.
But it wasn't long after that a familiar face showed up.
Striker. In all his cowboy glory.
Initially you were overjoyed, tackling the Imp to the ground. Striker effortlessly throwing you off, before he recognised you.
He seemed just as happy to see you, the two of two sharing a hug.
You couldn't explain it, but it felt amazing to hug the Imp. The two of you sharing an long moment together. Staring into each other's eyes.
Apparently he was in town and looking for work.
You didn't buy it for a second, of course. Striker was a cold blooded killer, not some field hand.
But when the boss asked, you still backed his story, telling the boss he was the hardest working guy you knew.
Which wasn't Untrue.
So Striker began working under you, which was great, since he had to do everything you told him to.
But eventually you confronted him about it, telling him you knew he wasn't there for a field hand job.
Striker tried to keep the facade going, but he quickly gave in and told you he was there for a target.
You figured as much, striker telling you he actually planned on taking the position of foreman, as his cover and after hearing that you knew you couldn't let this opportunity go to waste.
So you didn't.
For the first few weeks he was there, you made sure he got all the grunt work, the two of you often getting into fights like the old times.
Though you did take emense pleasure in watching Striker struggle to do basic field work.
But if striker was one thing, it was adaptable.
And soon enough he was working as hard as anyone.
The two of you became close again, alot like last time, but there seemed to be something new between the two of you.
Like a longing that had grown between the two of you, after spending years apart.
Your feeling would grow come to a head after a trip into town.
Striker would use his first pay check to buy a bottle of local brew. Which in wrath, was essentially moonshine. You'd find a hill not to far from the ranch, before popping the bottle.
The two of you would go through the bottle fairly quickly, reminiscing about the good old days.
Both of you getting more and more inebriated as you dug deeper and deeper into your past.
Telling him you had tried to sat goodbye, but couldn't find him. Striker would admit that he had missed you desperately. Hed tell you how it was only his work that kept his mind off of you.
You would lean in close, inches from each other, leaning in, you'd share a much over due kiss.
You weren't sure how Striker would react. You half expected him to knock your lights out.
But instead, Striker pulled you deeper into the kiss, his hands beginning to roam your body.
The kiss would only grow in intensity, the two of you shedding layer after layer of clothing.
You would embrace each other in that field.
You couldn't remember who was on top, and who was bottom, but you woke up the next morning feeling very satisfied.
The next morning was... interesting.
Youd woken up in lots of interesting situations. But hungover, buck naked in the middle of a field besides your long time friend, was a first.
The weird part though, was that It wasn't awkward.
You woke up about the same time. The two of you just laying there, Basking in the early morning sun.
You would just curl up together for a while, quietly discussing what should happen next.
You were shocked when Striker said he wanted to be with you.
Not really sure how to answer, you just kissed him. The two of you ending up having some early morning sex.
So after hundreds of fights, years apart and a pretty severe hangover, you and Striker were finally together.
Thanks for the request y'all. Usually I like don't write for Striker as I just felt there was a bit too much content surrounding him. My headcanon is a little more intimate than the prompt suggested, but none the less, this was still fun to write. Thanks for reading I hope you liked it.
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dandelion-turtle · 3 years
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Hyakinthos
Hyakinthos was a Spartan prince, most prominently known in Amyclae with a decent cult following. there are a couple of different people listed as being his parents, but the most popular is King Amyclus and Diomedes. if Amyclus was his father, that would also make Daphne, another of Apollo’s lovers, Hyakinthos’s sister. it seems like he would be quite simple, he has a relatively small story with one of the earliest written records from Hesiod. in this version there is no love rival, just an accident. written in the 7th century BC, it was merely one, albeit long, sentence.
”. . ((lacuna)) rich-tressed Diomede; and she bare Hyakinthos (Hyacinthus), the blameless one and strong . . ((lacuna)) whom, on a time Phoibos (Phoebus) [Apollon] himself slew unwittingly with a ruthless disk.”
however, the most famous version, and one that most will know, comes from Ovid’s Metamorphosis. written somewhere between the 1st century BC and 1st century AD, this sentence long story grew to be paragraphs long. in which Ovid describes the love Apollo and Hyakinthos have for each other — which was the ultimate demise for the young prince. with parts of it coming from the perspective of a mourning Apollo, Ovid writes how Hyakinthos was turned into a flower with “ai, ai” written on the petals to express Apollo’s sadness. and the version that we all have come to know including betrayal and jealous rage from Zephyros (the West Wind), is hinted at in Pausanias’ “Description of Greece”.
”[In the temple of Apollon at Amyklai (Amyclae) Nikias (Nicias) [painter fl. c. 320 B.C.], son of Nikomedes, has painted him [Hyakinthos (Hyacinthus)] in the very prime of youthful beauty, hinting at the love of Apollon for Hyakinthos of which legend tells . . . As for Zephyros (the West Wind), how Apollon unintentionally killed Hyakinthos, and the story of the flower, we must be content with the legends, although perhaps they are not true history.”
despite this seemingly clear-cut story, there’s a lot more than meets the eye with Hyakinthos. according to many historians the -nth part of his name is pre-Hellenic and comes from the Mycenaean era. another word like that would be Corinth — a pre-Greek polis that was destroyed and rebuilt. this leads many to believe that Hyakinthos was around BEFORE Apollo. he would have been a chthonic vegetation god — almost like the male equivalent to Persephone. this leads to a few different theories, but before I get to that, let me tell you the story of Hyakinthos as told by Ovid and Lucian’s “Dialogues of the Gods”. ═══════════════════════════
⊰ The Myth ⊱
Hyakinthos was a beautiful Spartan prince. he had many lovers, but the one that had eventually won his heart was Apollo. the god taught beautiful long-haired Hyakinthos how to play the lyre, how to use a bow and arrows, a little bit on prophecies, and gave him a swan chariot. the two were incredibly in love, but sadly, there was someone who didn’t like that. Zephyros, the west wind, was jealous for he too loved Hyakinthos. he had tried to woo him but it really was no match for Apollo. he watched the two men play again and again until he had eventually had enough of it. he ultimately created one of the most tragic love stories. like most days, Apollo and Hyakinthos were together, playing around and having mild competitions throwing a discus. Apollo wanted to show off for Hyakinthos so he could see just what a god could do. he threw a discus high into the air, clearing the clouds away and it disappeared into the sky. Hyakinthos wanted to impress his lover as well, so he chased after the discus laughing. Zephyros in a fit of rage at the two men enjoying themselves changed the course of the discus. as it came to land, the force was so strong that it bounced off the ground and smashed into Hyakinthos’s face. Apollo ran to his lover and tried every kind of medicine and healing he could think of. he even placed ambrosia on his lover’s lips but blood flowed freely from the wound. there was no way for him to stop a wound of Fate. in his despair, he turned Hyakinthos into a flower, but seeing that wasn’t good enough, he wrote his grief upon the petals. ═══════════════════════════
⊰ Symbolism From The Myth ⊱
Taking A Temple as mentioned before, it’s very likely that Hyakinthos was an older deity from the pre-hellenic period. something that many Greek writers did, was create a myth of how a deity began their worship in a specific place. we know the temple that Apollo was worshipped at in Amyclae was older than when his worship would have started. one theory behind this myth then, is how Apollo came to be worshipped over Hyakinthos at the temple and area; by killing the previous deity. it sounds sad, but it’s actually happened several times, and even with Apollo specifically. the most famous example I can think of would be at Delphi. originally the temple was in honor of the titan Gaia. Apollo came in valiantly and killed the Python (which is what gives Apollo’s priestesses their name) and inevitably took the temple over with his worship. what this doesn’t account for, is the fact Hyakinthos is still worshipped at the temple heavily, his and Apollo’s worship having mingled and being near inseparable. it is even said that upon his death and burial, Apollo said to give him (Hyakinthos) all offerings first. now, if you know a thing or two about Greek worship, the first portion of the offering was incredibly important, especially considering hero worship was probably closer to chthonic sacrifices in practice; though they were not considered to be ‘dead’. within my research so far, I have yet to find this happening somewhere else, but I will update this if I ever do. now all of this is unusual with the theory that this myth symbolizes one deity taking over. if that were the case, why continue to worship Hyakinthos? Duality some of you may not know this about me, but I am a sucker when it comes to duality, specifically with lovers. this myth may be a symbol for the growing season and harvest of the crops. while it may be a common motif, especially among the Greeks, I think it’s a sweet and somber story giving personification to an important aspect of Greek life. I also believe the duality is less about the exacts of what they rule over, but the way they were worshipped. the closest example I can think of also comes from Delphi with the duality between Apollo and Dionysos (who, shockingly enough, was the only other god historians believe was present during the Hyakinthia festival besides Apollo and Hyakinthos). as a hero, or simply for his chthonic aspect, the ritual and practice would have been far different than that for Apollo. while this isn’t exactly backed by anything I can find specific to duality, I personally feel a reason both Apollo and Hyakinthos were worshipped together in Amyclae is due to that duality between them. Hyakinthos would have been a chthonic deity probably for vegetation or agriculture, whereas Apollo here is a god of light (not the sun) representing life, health, and the ultimate grief. their worship in Amyclae was always together once Apollo was introduced (to some this hinted that they were possibly the same person representing a cycle, but most disagree with this theory). the duality is clearly a theme already for Apollo, and I think what happened at Delphi with Dionysos is the same for Amyclae and Hyakinthos. together they represent loss and mourning but also happiness and life — love. ═══════════════════════════
⊰ Hyakinthos Associations ⊱
okay, now that I have bored you all to death, let’s talk about some less heavy things. due to their worship being completely together, I would say that nearly anything related to Apollo can also be associated with Hyakinthos and vice versa. however, we love individuality in this house, so let’s talk about the things either associated with him through the various, limited texts we have and some UPG. Associations ➳ larkspurs/hyacinths ➳ swans ➳ bow and arrow ➳ summer! ➳ new spring growth ➳ chiton’s (they were offered to him by the women of Sparta) ➳ death ➳ rebirth/cycles ➳ chariot’s ➳ blood ➳ blue/purple/red colors ➳ discus (sorry) ➳ lavender ➳ lyre ➳ lapis lazuli ➳ amethyst ➳ black tourmaline ═══════════════════════════ Devotional Activities ➳ keeping a garden ➳ maybe even an indoor garden ➳ go to parks and feed the swans/birds ➳ archery ➳ sports ➳ making a chiton ➳ writing poems ➳ taking care of those around you ➳ growing larkspurs/hyacinths ➳ get a devotional journal ➳ create a playlist (sad songs for the most part) ➳ fall in love deeply ═══════════════════════════
⊰ Deity Or Divine Hero? ⊱
I don’t know if this question can be answered for a fact honestly. what we do know is that he was at least worshipped as a hero, that much can be said. anything further than that comes at a later time and from the outside perspective. a lot of ancient Greek writers didn’t write down certain things because they saw them as common knowledge. this doesn’t help us looking back now. what we can say, is that some of the offerings given to him were not common with hero worship and would have been reserved for the gods. this is according to Angeliki Petropoulou, a professor in ancient greek studies/religion, and the author of “Hyakinthos and Apollo of Amyklai: Identities and Cults. A Reconsideration of the Written Evidence” pages 153-161. Within this, she makes the argument that Hyakinthos has gone through ‘apotheosis’. this is the action of a mortal, usually a hero, becoming a god. note: ‘βουθυσία’ is a traditional oxen sacrifice.
“The βουθυσία for Hyakinthos, which is indicative of his new immortal status, should be placed on the third day too. Oxen are costly victims, the bull being the most “noble” sacrificial animal. After mourning for Hyakinthos’s death and making a propitiatory sacrifice at his tomb, they honoured him with a bull sacrificed as if to a god. Yet the geographical range in which he was regarded as god was rather circumscribed and did not spread beyond the borders of Lakedaimonia. The βουθυσία for Hyakinthos would have been instituted after the construction of the altar on which Apollo received sacrifices; for the only altar excavated, in an area filled with remnants of burnt sacrifices, is attributed to Apollo.”
so there you have it. most places will probably call him a hero, and that wouldn’t be wrong. others may call him a deity, which also isn’t wrong. I’ll tell you what I’m personally going to go with, and everyone can make their own decision based on the information listed through this post and the readings I’ll link at the bottom. no matter your conclusion, the relationship you have will be completely yours, and it’s ok! if anything, I encourage that over taking my word for it. ══════════════════════════ for me, I think I consider him a deity. I know that I heavily romanticize the story, and with Apollo being so near to my heart, him having a terrible love life hurts my soul. while I don’t exactly want to rewrite any myths, I won’t claim that they are married, I will say that I believe them to be happy. their worship in Amyclae was so intertwined and based completely around each other from the history we know, that, for me, it makes sense to also honor them together. I’ll leave you all on one more incredibly sad quote from Lucien’s “Dialogue of the Gods” (that I referenced from earlier).
”Apollon : Well, my loves never prosper; Daphne and Hyakinthos (Hyacinthus) were my great passions; she so detested me that being turned to a tree was more attractive than I; and him I killed with a quoit. Nothing is left me of them but wreaths of their leaves and flowers.”
it’s ok to cry, I do nearly every time I read that.
⊰ For Further Reading ⊱
➳Hyakinthos theoi ➳Apollo theoi ➳Hyakinthos Wiki ➳My Hellenic Research Google Drive this also contains the Sparta book I reference and a few others worth a read.
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potter-imagines · 3 years
Text
Being Thor and Loki's Little Sister and Dating Peter Parker Would Include...
Notes: wow I haven't written a marvel one in a long time pls don't read too much into the timeline lol I know things overlap but just go with it (:
Warnings: none... I think ??
Word Count: 3.6k (sorry its a bit long for a write like this but I couldn't help myself)
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You managed to do a decent job at keeping your relationship under wraps from your brothers for quite some time
Of course every other member on the team knew before the two of you even begun officially dating
Peter had spent three months ranting and raving to Tony Stark about how cute he thought you were and how much he liked you
Tony insisted time and time again he should tell you but Peter’s fear of rejection was much too large for him to find the courage for that
Unbeknownst to him,
You had spilled about your crush on Peter to Wanda and Nat almost a week after living in the compound
Being the only other girls there besides Pepper, it was easy to confide in them
Day after day you would wander to Wanda’s room and lay on her bed and gush about how handsome Peter was and how kind of a heart he had
Wanda found it adorable
And Bucky, Steve and Sam had placed the pieces together after days on end of watching Peter and yourself flirt like school kids in the gym during training
Even after being frozen for years, Steve recognized the look of smitten on Peter’s face when he talked to you
Bruce on the other hand had to sit through most of the kids talks with Tony in the lab so he figured it out fast
So when the two of you finally confessed your feelings for one another and Peter asked you out, there was only one road block holding the moment back from perfection
Your brothers
You and Peter shared the news with all the other team members expect the two, possibly most important in your case, members
You’ve been close to your brothers since you were brought into this world so it wasn’t like you didn’t want to tell them
It was more or less how overprotective they could be that made you bite your tongue
And as nervous as you are, Peter is 1,000% more worried about your brother’s finding out
Like honestly can you imagine how petrified Peter would be to tell Thor and Loki you two were dating
He’d purposely walk in the opposite direction every time he saw either of the two for the first week
Couldn’t stop fumbling with his words when he spoke to either of them
Like he was terrified
It’s sort of a cliché to have protective older brothers but older brothers who were also both Gods ????
Peter felt like a deadman walking
When the day finally came that you did tell your brothers about your relationship with Peter, it was absolutely cringe worthy
Peter had been coming home to the tower after a long day at Midtown High School when he spotted you the second he stepped foot out of the elevator
His excitement had clouded his judgement as he failed to check and see if the coast was clear
“Y/n! Hey!”
He nearly tumbled over his own feet as he rushed over to you
His face was gleaming with happiness and for a brief moment you felt a smile creep to your face until you were pulled back to reality by his hand reaching out to grasp yours
Your eyes widened in shock as you stared at Peter and before you could warn him to stop, he had planted a soft kiss on your cheek
That adorable smile was glowing from his face as he reached down for your hand only to fall once you pulled your hand away
He gave you a look of confusion, clearly surprised by your lack of response
But when an awkward cough sounded from behind him, he suddenly knew why
Peter didn’t have enough time to make any sort of a move when a husky, all too familiar voice spoke up,
“Hello, man of spiders. May I ask why you just kissed our little sister?” “Oh shit- I uh, well you see I…um...she had something on her face so I uh…”
Loki would snicker in amusement at seeing the boy squirm and prolong his torture “So you kissed her?” “Yeah…” “Hm, there something you’d like to share, little one?”
It wasn’t exactly the way you were hoping to break the news to your brothers
But it was certainly one way of doing it
The rest of the night was filled with awkward tension as you and Peter had to confess the truth to your brothers, who then made you share the news with the rest of the team
Thankfully, the rest of the team pretended they were just hearing about your new relationship for the first time, seeing as no one wanted to deal with an angry Thor
Now let’s get into your relationship with Peter
Peter Parker is the most caring person in the universe
Honestly
And dating him certainly came with it’s perks
You can expect to wake up every morning with a fresh coffee and a pastry on your nightstand, courtesy of Peter
He’ll also write you a sweet little ‘good morning’ note with a sketch of spider-man hanging from a web
(( he’s actually pretty talented in the doodling department ))
Makes cute sketches of him as spiderman and you as a princess ( vv fitting)
But also draws you as a total badass saving the galaxy bc… well you are
Count on him to be the first person to greet you when the sunrises and the last person to wish you a goodnight when it falls
Gets Mr. Stark to buy you an iphone so he can teach you how to use it
Has your name as “goddess” in his phone
The first thing he does is teach you about texting so he can pay you in imessage games
Refuses to play you in battleship since you somehow have crushed him every single time
Gets slightly annoyed with the overwhelming amount of random photos you snap of him
But he knows its all new to you and finds it irritatingly adorable
Loves it when you walk home with him from school
Will also keep reminding you that you shouldn’t have walked alone all the way to Midtown High School alone
Peter often forgets that you’re Asgardian and can protect yourself just fine
But it’s so cute how protective he is
He’s very observant and notices nearly everything
Like when you’re feeling a bit homesick
He picks up on it right away and will ask Thor and/or Loki for advice
Or when you start to become bored and tired at one of Star’s parties
Peter made his way over you before you even had the chance to turn and search for him
He’d escort you back to your room and lay with you until he was positive you had fallen asleep
Kisses to the top of your head
Is the boyfriend that will take your makeup off for you if you wear any
(( and sets yours lashes on the nightstand so neatly and labels which eye they were on cause the poor boy doesn’t understand ))
Spends weeks learning how to master the intricate braids that adorn your head
It’s so cute cause he’ll sit and look up Youtube videos and try to learn how to make the different braids and is just so confused but so determined
Taking Peter to visit Asgard
“Woah- this place looks like something from Lord of the Rings! It’s awesome!” “Lord of the Rings? I’ve never met that God.” “Uh, no, it’s a movie from Earth. We can watch it when we go back.” “To Midgard?” “Midgard? No, to New York.”
Loves it when your people refer to you as “Princess Y/n”
For some reason it makes him blush
Will tell everyone back on Earth that he’s dating a princess
I could def see Peter getting annoyed and frustrated with the Asgardian men trying to flirt and win your heart
Although that’s something that already belong to Peter
And even though Peter trusts you entirely
He’s still insecure from time to time
Especially when he sees how much taller and stronger Asgardian men look in comparison to him
But he finds reassurance in the feeling of your hand in his and the gleeful smile adorning your face as you show him around your homeland
Attempting to help Peter study
Although you’re not much help to Midgardian school work “Peter, darling, I don’t have a clue what a watergate is and I haven’t an idea how that could be scandalous.”
Maths however you excelled in
And Peter was thoroughly surprised to find you had the sequence of PI memorized to the one hundredth number- and in song form
Holding your hand 24/7
Endless cuddles on the couch
And when you’re walking around together, he does that thing where he swings your hands and back forth
Movie theater dates… at the tower b/c your brothers feel the need to be in close proximity the you guys at all times
Trying ice cream for the first time with Peter at two in the morning
One of Peter’s favorite things to do with you is take you through a walk in his world
At least three times a week Peter and you will walk around the city and find new things your Asgardian self has yet to experience
Like pizza
New York pizza to be exact
And hot chocolate
Ice skating at Rockefeller Center once the weather got cold
Loves to take you for drives in the more woodsy land of New York once fall set in and the leaves began to change
But by far his favorite thing is showing you Midgardian films and movies of all sorts
He loves that you don’t judge him for nerding out over his love for films
Not to mention you actually sit and watch Star Wars with him
(( maybe it was the whole space element but Peter was just thrilled you liked it ))
But then he shows you ‘Alien’
And it was an instant regret
It took him the rest of the night to convince you that the movie was fake
You made him sleep in your room just for reassurance
Your favorite out of the films Peter played was called ‘Toy Story’
Buzz Lightyear reminded you of Thor
In terms of TV shows
F.R.I.E.N.D.S. which quickly became your guys comfort show
Parks & Rec too “That Andy fellow looks an awful lot like Starlord, don’t you think?”
Peter refuses to let you watch Black Mirror
After the whole incident with Alien
Black Mirror didn’t seem like a good idea
Constantly teasing from the rest of the Avengers
Tony just can’t help it
He loves tormenting the two of you
Especially when Thor and/or Loki are around
“Hey Peter, I thought I saw you go into Y/n’s room last night but I didn’t see you leave until the morning. Heard a lot of noise too- thought Y/n was getting attacked. What was that about?”
Or
“Kid, I got you those condoms you asked for. How’d you manage to run out of that last box so quick? I just bought it for you a week ago!” “Messing with you, they’re just sugar packets- Thor put Peter down right now!”
Aunt May absolutely adores you
Always tells Peter how sweet you are and is constantly inviting you over for dinner
Lets you two have sleepovers in his room at her place
As long as the door stays open
Peter can’t stop laughing when you compliment May on her ability to make an amazing bowl of cereal
She thought it was a joke seeing as she burned dinner the night before to a crisp and laughs until she’s in tears
And you’re literally sitting there so confused, clearly not understanding the joke
Peter then takes you on a trip to a grocery store for the first time to show you a whole aisle full of cereal
It is then that you realize Aunt May didn’t hand make the fruity pebbles
She still laughs about it to this day
Befriending Ned and listening enthusiastically while he gives you a full speech on the franchise Star Wars
And his rant on how terrible Star Trek is in comparison
Is shocked when you ask questions out of genuine interest
Ned immediately takes a liking to you after that and asks Peter daily to invite you to hangout
Whenever Stark adds an upgrade to his suit, you’re the first person Peter shows it to
He shares quite literally everything with you
As do you to him
The rest of the Avengers love gossiping about you guys
Nat and Wanda have already started planning the wedding and Pepper has the perfect venue in mind, much to your brothers dismay
For some reason
Thor and Loki are always within reasonable distance, enough so they can keep an eye on you but also give some sense of privancy
Thor is def always the first one to step in
“Peter, please remove your hand from my sister’s behind.” “Oh uh, ye-yeah… sorry, Mr.Thor.”
Loki would find Peter amusing
He loves to mess with him whenever given the chance
“Ah, Peter. Good to see you. I’m sure Y/n informed you of our task today. Very impressed that you offered yourself as the sacrifice to the aliens-” “Wait, what? Y/n?!” “He’s kidding, Peter.”
Everyone in the Avenger’s tower knew Peter was lactose intolerant and knew the repercussions of the boy consuming any sort of dairy
(( he physically cannot leave the bathroom for a full day ))
Yet Loki regularly will swap Peter’s specially labeled almond milk with a jug of skim milk just for the hell of it
There’s something so hilarious to him about the look of panic and alarm that smacks abruptly across Peter’s face as he quickly stumbles out of the kitchen to his room
It keeps him laughing for days
You’ll just shoot your brother a look of disapproval, clearly certain it was his doing
“Loki, why did Peter run off?” “Not sure, darling sister, maybe he’s got one of those stomach bugs. I’ve heard Midgardians are prone to them…weak bodies and such.” "You switched out his milk again didn’t you.” “I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re accusing me of, little one.”
Thor is a bit more hesitant on accepting your relationship with his fellow Avenger
He trusts that Peter would never harm you
Although he did not trust that you would never be harmed because of Peter
It was risky enough that both your brothers were big names in space, as well on Earth, however
Thor knew Loki and himself were capable of protecting you but Peter?
He was just a kid, in Thor’s eyes
However the one thing that kept him from telling you this was seeing how happy Peter made you
As your older brother, Thor trusted your judgement and tried his best to be accepting of his little sister dating
And as much as he wanted to deny it, he saw crystal clear the care and love Peter gave to you and he wasn’t willing to break that for you
Still
Thor is the type of brother to barge into a room and shove himself between Peter and yourself without warning
This man does not care at all
At least Loki has the decency to give you two space as a couple
Thor does not
He is constantly third wheeling on your dates and will ‘accidentally’ walk into rooms he knows you two are in claiming he forgot something
Not that he ever grabs anything,
He’ll usually just stand and stare at the two of you until you either leave the room or ask him to leave
To which he always answers,
“No.”
But with a smile
A smug smile
PDA is something he will never be okay with
Thor will yank Peter back by the collar every time he sees his lips on yours and glare at him, “Man of spiders, I know you’re in love with my little sister but kissing her infront of me is too far.”
And Loki will physically gag just to piss you off
For the most part, your relationship with Peter is nearly perfect
It would be entirely perfect if you weren’t constantly worrying about him dying on a mission or getting hurt
But still, just like any couple, you had your moments
And when you did fight, it was typically over Peter’s safety or him not wanting you to tag along for a mission
Your common way of dealing with conflict was the silent treatment
Which is pure torture for Peter
Not only does he miss the sound of your voice
He misses having you around
Seeing your smile
Hearing you laugh from something he said
He felt terrible everytime
He’d go to Tony for advice and spend hours rambling on to him about how sorry he was for yelling at you and for adding to the fight
Tony would half listen while he worked away on a new system and suit, offering a ‘yeah’ and ‘hmm’ every few seconds which pleased Peter who thought his mentor was fully listening
And after almost two hours of his non-stop talking, Tony Stark had reached his limit
Setting his wrench down on the metal table with a thud he turned around to face the young boy
“Kid, why’re you saying all this to me and not her? I mean, I’m all ears but I’m also not Y/n. I know we’re both good looking so I can see why you mixed us up, but you should be talking to her right now.”
Similar to Peter you also had someone to confide in when the road got rocky
Loki had always been the one you shared all your secrets with
As children you were attached at the hip to both your brothers but Loki a smidgen more than Thor
Your father, Odin, had Thor at his side 24/7 growing up
While he was busy learning the ropes to ruling Asgard, Loki and yourself run amuck causing trouble left and right through the royal palace
Through the years of bonding Loki become your best friend, and you his
So when trouble struck in paradise, your older brother was the one you ran to
He’d welcome you with open arms and a questioning gaze
Loki is by far the best listener in your family
Instead of telling you what to do, he asks what you want, which is a refreshing change
After a long talk with Loki you’d search the tower high and low for Peter while ironically Peter was doing the same thing
When you did finally make-up, it felt like coming home
The apologies were so sincere and genuine
You’d end up having a sleepover in your room watching 80’s films that Peter claimed were ‘iconic’ and laying in his arms
And that’s where you felt complete
Fights never occurred often but bickering ???
DAILY
You two bickered playfully over everything under the sun
Like who’s the better superhero; Ironman or Captain American
Or
Debates between living in New York and living in Asgard
Loves to pull up Midgardian inventions and ask you to guess what it is “Princess, what do you think this is?” “Oh! Oh! I’ve seen this one! Tony has one in his kitchen!” “Okay, so what is it?” “Yes, it’s a chicken nugget maker!” “It’s actually an air fryer but we only ever make chicken nuggets in them so I’ll give you a half point.”
Peter sneaking out of your room at the crack of dawn and sprinting to his
As much as Thor and Loki liked him and supported the relationship
He was sure they’d both team up to murder him if they caught him sleeping in your bed
Steve and Tony, who seem to be incapable of sleep, have watched him tiptoe out of your room numerous times but they only share a look of amusement then go back to their previous discussion
Playing hide-n-go-seek and tag on rainy days at the tower
Cuddling in Peter’s bed while he asks you to tell him stories about Asgard
Loves hearing about your childhood and what it’s like to grow up with siblings
Is fascinated when you tell him about Heimdall
Stealing Peter’s hoodies
Especially his Midtown High School ones
They’re insanely soft
Sweet little kisses throughout the day
He's just so sweet and gentle
Loves getting to hold you and snuggle in his bed
Most weekends you spend lounging on the couch with Peter’s head in your lap while you play with his hair
Other times you’re sitting next to Peter on his bed watching him play some video game and asking a million questions “Who is that man, Peter?” “That’s me, he’s the main character of the game. That’s Mario, babe.” “You’re not Mario- you’re Peter.” “No, the main character of this game is Mario, I’m just playing him.” “Oh… and what is that green dinosaur creature?” “That’s Yoshi!” “Adorable.”
Making out between games
In terms of... y'know... sex
Neither of you were keen on rushing the process
You had tip toed on the line multiple times yet never fully crossed it
Until you had decided to make the first real move after being together for about five months
You trusted him with all your heart so it wasn't exactly scary, but rather exciting
He had a way of making you feel safe, comfortable, and loved all at once
Lets be honest, Peter nearly fainted the first time he saw you naked
And still, no matter how many times the two of you have sex,
He worships every inch of you like it was your first time all over again
You couldn't have asked for a better lover
Dating Peter means a new adventure everyday
You’re constantly learning new things about each other and from each other
Despite coming from two very different worlds
You’ve never felt more connected to a soul until Peter came along
392 notes · View notes
golden-pickaxe · 3 years
Text
Coffee (Part 5)
Fandom: Vikings
Paring: Ivar x Reader
Type: Modern AU, Office AU
Wordcount: 3619
Warnings: reader drinks wine casually
[Coffee - All Parts Here]
A/N: Here is part 5!
Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius​ @punkrocknpearls @mootiemoose​ @istorkyou @dini73​ @heavenly1927​ @hashimily​ @peakywitch​
Summary: You are a graduate student at the University of Oslo, and have applied for a job as a personal assistant at the Lothbrok Corporation, without really knowing much of the position advertised. When it turns out you are going to work for the (in)famous Ivar Lothbrok, your whole life is turned up-side-down.
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With Ivar just wearing a t-shirt, instead of his usual well-cut suits, you could very clearly see the strong muscles in his arms, as you watched him pushing his wheelchair out of the pedestrian zone, towards the street. You had to swallow at the sight, hating yourself for the effect this man had on you.
 You walked along side him, finally realising what you had done. Just like a year ago, when the coin had dropped that you had really applied at the Lothbrok Corporation, it now dropped that you had just accepted his invitation to come to his home and let him cook for you. Him, one of the most influential businessmen of Norway. With his own fucking Wikipedia site.
Your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest at the thought, and you bit your lower lip, not quite knowing what this whole thing would mean now. And if it would change anything between you. You hoped not, but in the same way, you did hope.
 Getting your private life mixed up with your job probably was not a good idea. On the other hand, this whole situation kind of freaked you out, but in a good way. It was exciting.
 You and Ivar had reached the street, next to the national gallery, where a few minutes later the taxi arrived. Personally, you would never get a taxi in Oslo, as it was just insanely expensive, but with a lot of public transport, such as the tram you had taken to get here, not entirely being accessible to someone in a wheelchair, you could understand why Ivar had called it.
 Ivar maneuverered himself into one of the back seats, while the driver put his chair into the trunk of the car. You felt Ivar’s blue eyes watching you, as you rounded the vehicle to get into at the other side.
Even though he always successfully overplayed it, you saw that he was a bit self-conscious about his legs, often cursing them underneath his breath when they once again got into his way. He could move them a little bit, and also seemed to have some feeling in them, was even able to stand up for a few moments, if he could support himself with his arms. But in general, they did not really seem to be working.
In the office, Ivar hated to use his wheelchair, often just dragging himself from his desk to his sofa, his immense upper body strength enabling him to pull himself up with not much of an issue.
 Now, sitting next to you in the taxi on the way to his apartment, he readjusted his legs a bit with tight lips, appearing a bit nervous once more. You still could not quite wrap your head around what was happening right now, it all felt a bit like a dream to you. Just so, you managed to resist the urge to pinch yourself.
 Your boss, your grumpy boss, the infamous Ivar Lothbrok had just casually invited you to go out for coffee with him, had questioned you about almost every aspect of your life, paid for your drink, and now took you to his home to cook for you. It almost sounded like a very bad rom-com, like a romance story some bored, lonely woman would think up. Not that you expected it to end that way, of course. Even if you honestly wished it would.
 Until now, even if you sometimes chatted on business trips, your relationship had been purely professional, and you had only been over to his flat once, when you had brought him a set of suits to his home, when there had been issues with his dry cleaner. It had not really surprised you, finding out that he also lived in Majorstuen, actually not very far from you, although it had been a stress factor for you. Of course, he did not live in one of the old buildings, like you did, with paper thin walls, no elevator and wonky doors, no. He lived on the top floor of one of those new, fancy apartment buildings, costing a few ten-million krona, overlooking Frognerparken.
 When you had brought the suits up to his apartment, you had also met a famous Norwegian actor in the lift, so it was clear what kind of people occupied the other flats of the building. You had never been inside his home, had only delivered his suits to his door, but even the entrance and the lift had been very fancy and expensive looking. Admittedly, you had taken a stupid selfie in the mirror of the lift and posted it to Instagram.
 As Aker Brygge was, as stated, not far from Majorstuen, the drive was quite short, and the few minutes of silence were only broken by far too relaxing music coming out of the car radio. The taxi stopped in front of the apartment building Ivar lived in, and he paid the driver, while you got out, retrieving Ivar’s wheelchair from the trunk. You set it up and positioned it next to the car, for him to climb into.
 Ivar clenched his jaw a bit, obviously annoyed at something, even though you were not quite sure what exactly it was that he was annoyed by now, only hoping that it was not you. Well, at least you would have not far home now.
Ivar climbed out of the car, moving himself over to sit in his chair, before unlocking the breaks and rolling towards the door of the building, while the taxi behind you departed.
 Just as you remembered, the entry hall of the apartment complex was very posh, and you were reminded that this was a completely different world from yours. A different world from your shitty apartment, where you could hear almost every conversation your neighbours were having, and where you had push your full body against the bathroom door to get it to close properly.
 Following Ivar to the lift, the two of you got in, and Ivar pressed the button of the top floor. As soon as the doors had closed, Ivar’s eyes were on you, mustering you intently. His gaze was a tad intimidating, you had to admit, once again looking like a predator looking at his prey. Still, you managed to look back with a smile.
 “Are there any things you don’t eat, before I work my magic?” he asked, a smirk on his handsome face. You had to laugh at his choice of words, but told him about any dietary restrictions or things you didn’t like, and Ivar nodded.
 “Alright. I think I know what to make, then.” He leaned back in his chair a bit, biting how lower lip, a move that made your knees feel very weak.
 “Thank you.” It came out of your mouth, earning a very surprised expression from Ivar.
 “What for?” he asked honestly a bit confused, tilting his head at you.
 “For the coffee. And for inviting me over, and for cooking.” You studied his face, hoping to find something there, something that would give up his intentions, something revealing why he was doing this. You just needed to know, needed to know if you could get your hopes up or not. Was this really just a social call because you had been working for him for a year now, or was it something else?
 “Thank me after you’ve tasted my glorious food! Then I will gladly accept your thanks.” Ivar winked, and the elevator doors opened. Ivar left the lift, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he stopped at his front door.
 His flat was the only flat up here, and you guessed it had to be gigantic, covering the whole top floor. You were sure, his flat probably also had a roof terrace.
 You had to admit, this was another thing you found kind of intimidating about this man. The sheer amount of wealth he had, the wealth his family had. While you lived in a flat share with an old kitchen and horrible, tiny bathroom, with just a wet room and not even a proper shower, he lived in this extremely modern, borderline futuristic building, overlooking Oslo.
 Ivar opened the door, and pushed himself into the flat, with you following close behind, walking past him before he closed the door again behind you.
 Obviously you had imagined this place to be huge and expensive, but what you were seeing in front of your eyes was just.. something else.
It was less of a normal flat, and more of a large loft, most of the rooms merged into one big space. There was, similar to his office, a gigantic glass front overlooking the famous park, and West Oslo. The sun was still in the sky, the sunset not being for another one and a half hours or so.
 In the centre of the room was a big, beautiful white sofa, the kind where one could just stretch out like a starfish and not fall down. In front of it was a coffee table made out of driftwood and glass, the dark wood in stark contrast with the sofa. On the right of it were large, metal, urban looking bookshelves, filled with many thick books, some leather bound and old looking, dividing the living area from the ‘bedroom’, and there were a few doors opposite of the windows, that seemed to lead into extra rooms, probably the bathroom and other rooms.
 Behind the bookshelf you could see a large bed at the wall, so large in fact that you were sure that it could comfortably fit three to four fully grown people. It was covered and surrounded in white and grey furs, sheep and reindeer as far as you could tell from the distance. Furs also covered parts of the marble floor of the flat.
 There were many more furs on and in front of the sofa, and in general it seemed that grey, white and black, together with different shades of brown were the only colours in the whole apartment, making it look very sophisticated.
 On the left-hand side was a giant, very modern kitchen, seemingly equipped with everything a cook could wish for, with a large kitchen isle and a big table in front of it, a rustic looking piece of furniture, made of wood and carved with beautiful knot patterns, probably hand made by a very skilled Scandinavian carpenter knowing a lot about medieval woodcarving.
 The kitchen itself, you noticed, was lower than what you were used to, and while it confused you for a moment, you quickly realised that it was built so that Ivar could easily reach everything from his wheelchair, without having to get any help.
 “Welcome to my humble home.” You heard Ivar’s voice behind you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You swallowed and turned to him, looking at him as he watched you with a knowing smile on his lips.
 You could not hold back a laugh.
“Humble?” you simply asked, slipping out of your shoes and walking further into the big room, looking around.
 The whole flat was modern and elegant, yet had such a rustic and clearly Scandinavian aesthetic, it was truly impressive. Whoever was the interior designer, was truly a genius, and showed an amazing appreciation for medieval Scandinavian design. Similar works you had only seen in the Folksmuseet in Bygdøy.
 The walls that were not made out of glass were covered in picture frames, displaying either old Viking artwork or photographs of Norway and Iceland, of runestones and old temples. Somehow, it fitted in perfectly with the rest of the decoration.
 There was a door in the glass front of the flat, leading out, just as you had assumed, onto a large roof top terrace, furnished with even more rustic, wooden, and probably handmade tables and chairs, and, as cliché as it sounded, a beautiful hot tub. It was built into a frame, reminding you of a Viking ship, with a set of carved stairs leading up to it, probably so that Ivar had an easier time to get in and out of it, without requiring any help.
 “Alright, I admit, not so humble.” Ivar chuckled. “It was a present from my father when I started to officially work in the company. He had his friend Floki and his wife Helga design and build this whole thing.”
 That made you turn around to him once more. You knew these names.
“The Floki and Helga?” you swallowed.
 Floki and Helga were very, very famous, highly awarded architects and designers, often hired to design important landmarks and museums. Houses planned by them costing up to a hundred million kronas. They were famous for being able to combine the traditional aesthetics of their ancestors with the modern designs of this century, creating masterpieces that were rewarded all over the world. Now, looking around Ivar’s loft once more, it seemed obvious that this was their handy work.
 “Yes, The Floki and Helga.” Ivar chuckled. “The two of them almost raised me when I was a kid. With my parents busy all the time and me being bound to.. this.” He gestured at is chair. “Floki made all the wooden furniture himself. I am very lucky.”
 “Indeed you are.” You shook your head, unable to believe what you had just heard.
 Obviously, he had been raised by the two of them. Obviously, they had made his home for him, being like family to him, and being friends of his father, the most powerful businessman in Norway, and probably even all of Europe.
By now, you wouldn’t even question, if Ivar casually told you that he was descended from Odin.
 Ivar just shrugged at your words, although the expression on his face was a mixture of amused and pride. He bent down to slip out of his shoes, before moving his wheelchair over to a spot next to the door, where another wheelchair was waiting for him, this one looking a bit different, similar to the ones used by disabled athletes. Easier to navigate and probably a bit more comfortable. Ivar heaved himself up from his chair, navigating himself into the other one, a sigh leaving his lips.
 “I don’t fancy the dirt from the streets in my home.” He explained at your confused face, before he pushed himself towards you.
Oh yes, that made sense. Just as both of you had taken off your shoes, it would only be logical for him to also ‘change wheels’.
 A faint smile was on his lips, as he looked up and into your face, his expression soft and open, something you were not quite used to from him. His body language was relaxed too, his arms simply resting in his lap, as his head was once again tilted slightly.
He was truly a beautiful man, you had to admit. It was difficult to ignore, and sometimes you caught yourself staring in meetings, hoping that no one had noticed how your eyes had been practically glued to your boss. Solveig had made fun of you even more, when you had told her about it.
 “I think I’m going to start to cook now, before we starve to death. So, sit down, get comfortable.” He winked at you, before moving his chair towards the kitchen, in the process letting the wheelchair roll a bit, while he pulled his long hair into a tight bun at the back of his head. “Or would you like to help?” he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow, looking at you from underneath his long eyelashes. You had to swallow.
 “Well, I am still your personal assistant. So, I will assist you.” You smiled, following him into the kitchen. You hoped that reminding yourself that you were still his employee would calm your nerves.
 “I had hoped you’d say that, dove.” There it was again, that nickname. Your nerves were certainly not calm now.
 Ivar started to pull out pans and a cutting board, gesturing at the fridge for you to take out certain ingredients and washing them in the sink.
 You were not entirely sure what he was going to make, but you were positively surprised that his fridge and his whole pantry was stocked very well. You had to admit, you had taken him for one of those bachelors who had never touched their kitchen in their lives, and with all the money they had always ate out.
 But, as Ivar casually explained while you were preparing food, he enjoyed cooking for himself, and did so almost every evening.
While you were washing some vegetables, and he was skilfully cutting up an onion, he casually told you about the cooking schools he had visited when he was younger, and about the occasional dinner parties he threw for his close friends and family, where he cooked up five course meals for them all by himself. He moved around his kitchen as if he knew every millimetre of it, knowing the layout like the back of his hand.
 You enjoyed this far too much. You rarely saw Ivar this casual, only on business trips when he was not in the mood to talk about work anymore. And though you did not like to admit it, you were keen to know more about his personal life, to know more about the man behind the name Lothbrok.
 It was nice to see him here, in his home. He seemed so at ease, so open, the usual anger and annoyance he often seemed to carry around with himself in day-to-day life completely absent in this moment. This was his space, where he did not have to worry, to think about what upset him.
 This flat truly seemed to be his place, and his place alone. His kingdom far from the influence of other people. Here he was himself, independent of everyone else, everything built in a way that he did not need help from other people.
 Whatever else would come of tonight, you were just happy that you could witness this. You would see Ivar differently now, you knew. And would probably fall even more for him.
 You noticed it getting a bit darker out, and a quick look at your phone told you that it was already half past nine PM. It had not seemed that long, getting to Ivar’s home and starting to cook, as you had not even finished the preparation for cooking yet, but frankly, you didn’t even mind. The setting sun tinted the whole apartment in a magical, golden light, making it look even more beautiful and magical. Ivar’s face turned away from his work for a moment, his blue eyes wandering over the horizon, where the sky was slowly tinted in orange, pink and purple. A faint smile appeared on his face, before he returned his attention to the food.
 Absently minded you put your phone on the kitchen isle, before you grabbed a jar of mixed spices, which Ivar had instructed you to get for him while he was still cutting up vegetables. You read the label, not surprised that he had not purchased them in Norway, but in Spain, turning around, eyes still on the jar. Thus, you only noticed too late that Ivar was right behind you, his chair almost inaudible on the marble floor.
 With a slightly embarrassing yelp escaping your throat, you lost balance, tripping over Ivar’s wheelchair, falling over and landing straight in his lap. His strong arms were suddenly around you to keep you from completely falling to the floor, and your face probably had taken on a crimson shade.
 “Careful there, dove. I’m usually not that hard to miss.” He smirked, to your surprise not even remotely angry with you.
 You had once, in your third month at the Lothbrok Corporation, seen a small clerk run into him in the office, who had been a bit late and had not really paid attention. After Ivar had yelled at him for good twenty minutes, he had never been heard of again.
 “Gods, I’m so sorry, I..” but you stopped, swallowing, not knowing what to say. You tried to get up, the jar of spices still in your hand, but Ivar’s strong grip around you firmly held you in place.
 The man tilted his head, eye flickering to the glass container you were holding. He let go of you with one of his arms, while the other one was still around you, taking the jar from your hands and placing it on the counter next to him. His blue eyes mustered you once more. Your heart was pounding. In the light of the setting sun he looked even more handsome than he had already.
 “I have told you, that you look good today, right?” he asked, his voice low. His hand had returned to hold you again, and you noticed his fingers carefully caressing your back, which sent a shiver up your spine.
 Your mind was racing, as was your heart.
You could not but stare into his piercing blue eyes, not sure what to say, how to respond to him right now, or if you should say anything at all. You were unable to think even one coherent thought, as you felt his strong arms around you, his firm body below you, and his hot breath against you skin.. wait. When had he gotten this close to you?
 Before you could really comprehend what was happening, you suddenly felt Ivar’s lips against yours, not firm, but soft, almost shily moving against yours. In that moment, it was as if your mind just gave up, and turned itself off.
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sabraeal · 3 years
Note
Consider: Obi is green-red color blind
A Color by Any Other Name
Written for @aeroplaneblues for a surprise birthday gift! Many months ago she mentioned wanted to see a colorblind Obi, and I said, WELL WHAT A GOOD EXCUSE TO WRITE THIS PROMPT JOANNA GAVE ME. I hope your birthday is a good one, filled with a lot more nice surprises!
“Are you ever going to introduce me to your guard friends?” Suzu asks around a mouthful of dumpling. “Or are you embarrassed?”
To say Obi is unprepared, would be an understatement; there’s a pork bun lodged between his teeth, his gloves not only coated in pig grease but also far less effective against steam than he’d thought they’d be back when he’d just grabbed a plump little blob off the stall. He’d laughed off Suzu’s concerns about protective equipment; after all, if smiths use leather gloves, they’ve got to be just as good as an oven mitt.
They aren’t. Not to mention the roof of his mouth starting to have a real good think about peeling off and having a vacation. Maybe even with someone who doesn’t eat entire dumplings straight from the basket.
“Wha?” he manages eloquently, nearly drooling spicy meat drippings onto the street.
“I know I’m not cool like they are,” Suzu continues, warming to his new thesis. If his sudden flush of confidence is any measure, he’s spent more of time composing his arguments for this than Obi’s ever seen him work on his actual defense. “And I’m no good with a sword. Or fists. Or really any implement that isn’t a scalpel, and any opponent that isn’t already anesthetized. But I am very smart.”
There’s a thoughtful pause before Suzu adds, “Some people do enjoy that, you know.”
What Obi knows is that this kid tried this conversation on for size in front of Yuzuri, and she didn’t even bother to warn him as a courtesy. See if he buys her any more meat-on-sticks when she’s ‘left her purse in the lab’ now.
“That’s not--” he takes a hurried minute to swallow-- “not what’s happening. I didn’t...”
Even know you knew I didn’t work for the pharmacy. His teeth clamp shut around that winner, and its friend, I didn’t think you lot would want to hang out with a bunch of men without degrees. Not only would that encourage Suzu to make a scene right here, right now, but if it got back to Jirou-- well, if he thought Suzu could turn any day into a disaster, the lieutenant would make that seem like a vacation.
“I didn’t think you wanted to,” he settles on instead. Similar enough in feel, if...creatively edited. “You scholar types tend to flock together.”
“Well, sure,” Suzu murmurs, stymied, “but we’re friends too, aren’t we? If all my friends are your friends, then all your friends should be my friends.”
Only an academic could talk about arithmetic with that amount of confidence, especially the kind that involved transitive properties and letters, and all sorts of things that made Obi’s head spin.
“Well,” he hums, one boot scratching his calf. “You would know.”
Suzu whirls on him, staring down his long fox-snout of a nose. “You mean it? You’ll really...?”
“Sure. If that’s what you want.” He twitches his shoulders, more casual than he feels. “It’s fine if it’s you.”
There’s always been a lazy lilt to Suzu’s eyes, but it disappears now, all the sleepiness gone to surprise. “Me? You wouldn’t want to bring anyone else?”
“Well, definitely not Kazaha.” The glares he’d get bringing that twiggy pedant into the guardhouse might be enough to drop him dead on the spot. “And Yuzuri would be too popular.”
Suzu grimaces. “The number of admirers she’d get from a wink alone...she’d be unlivable.”
He can see it now, her ponytail bobbing with a buoyant glee, giggling through every painstaking penned line from her fan club-- “Think of all the bad poetry.”
“Honestly, that might make it worth it. At least I’ll feel better about not knowing the difference between a quartet and a quatrain.” Suzu takes a thoughtful bite of him bun. “And you couldn’t bring Shirayuki, of course.”
“Right.” Not a one of them could be trusted to keep their lips sealed; she’d hardly have to take a breath and someone would call her Obi’s lady, or ask how they met, or whether she’s still Mistress behind closed doors--
But Suzu wouldn’t know any of that. “Wait, why?”
“Well...” He has the grace to look chagrined about it, whatever it is. “You know. Her hair...?”
“Oh.” Obi shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”
“You guess?” Suzu stares. “Shirayuki has a non-zero amount of stories about being kidnapped for looking like a candied apple, and you guess there might be a fuss about bringing her ‘round to the guardhouse?”
“Well, none of you acted weird about it,” he snips, hiding his annoyance behind a bite of dumpling. “There’s no reason they will.”
“Of course no one at Lilias acted weird, Obi!” he squawks, arms flailing as he talks. “You couldn’t pay them to look at anything but their own project. But when a bunch of normal men with eyes and, uh, other working appendages see a cute girl with red hair and a soft voice, they’re gonna go crazy!”
His palm hooks around his shoulder, thumb digging into the hard knot at his collarbone. “Aw, come on. It’s not that special.”
“Not that--?” Suzu whips around, eyes round as dumplings. “Obi, she’s the only person I’ve ever seen with red hair.”
“You don’t get out much,” Obi deadpans. “No offense.”
“That’s not--” Suzu grunts, throwing up his hands-- “She’s the only person anyone’s ever seen with red hair!”
“Her dad’s is kind of red.” That observation wins him an unimpressed look, one that says you’re missing the point. “And Yuzuri had blue hair when I met her. That’s way more interesting--”
“It was dyed!” Suzu wobbles over to a wall, sitting with his head in his hands. “Shirayuki has a hair color so rare that the birth records in Clarines haven’t noted it in more than fifty years! And you think Yuzuri dying her hair with woad is more impressive.”
“Well, even her natural color is brighter than Miss’s. Not--” he waves a hand between them, quelling-- “that Miss’s hair isn’t nice enough. But I’d think that people would pay more attention to that.”
“...Brighter?” Suzu murmurs after a long moment, stilted. “Obi, could you tell me what color that sign is, right over there?”
“The one for the tea shop?” He wrinkles his nose. “Why--?”
“Just...indulge me for a moment.”
“All right.” He squints up at the moon cresting over a wolf’s head. “Blue.”
“Right, and, um, that coat over there.”
“Yellow.”
“Right.” Suzu’s voice is tight, stressed. “And what I’m wearing?”
Obi squints. This one’s a little harder, but he’s confident when he says, “Green.”
“Ah, right.” Suzu stands, a unsteady on his feet. “That would explain that, then.”
Obi blinks. “Explain what?”
“Obi,” Suzu begins, with all the gravitas of both a grim prognosis and a terrible joke. “You can’t see colors.”
*
It’s not the first time Obi’s played hound to his prey’s fox, but there’s something distinctly unsettling about it being Suzu that leaves him lagging behind, unsure of himself. Especially with the way he scurries through the concourse, bounding toward the mess hall with this idea caught between his teeth like chicken feathers.
“I can see colors just fine,” Obi informs him with far less confidence than he’d like. “Some of them are just hard to tell apart. Weren’t you and Yuzuri arguing yesterday about whether salmon is orange or pink?”
Suzu waves a hand at him, dismissive. “That’s different. Salmon’s both orange and pink, and what color it looks most like has to do with the composition of your eye-- and it’s pink by the way, with orange undertones--”
Between the two of them, Obi knows who he’d trust to know their colors. “Uh-huh.”
“You can’t make out red and green, which is different entirely, and--” the doors to the mess burst open beneath his hands, a noise lost in the din of a hundred scholars trying to share the same table-- “YOU GUYS WON’T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST FOUND.”
The whole of Shidan’s lab-- minus the man himself-- have taken up right by the door, bags and coats piled to save them their places on the bench. Suzu makes short work of the pile on his seat, haphazardly shoving them to the floor as he sits.
Kazaha peers at him and ventures mildly, “A new way to avoid finishing your thesis?”
“No,” Suzu hums between his grit teeth, “but I have found out--”
“I don’t think we need to do this,” Obi murmurs, handing Miss her muffler. “It’s not--”
“Obi,” he intones with far more gravitas than his name has ever strictly deserved, “can’t see colors.”
“Not at all?” Kazaha turns those sharp eyes to him, like he’s a specimen under glass. “Just black and white?”
“I can see just fine,” Obi huffs, tossing Yuzuri her coat before he slides onto the bench, knee knocking into Miss’s in a way that puts his heart through its paces. “Suzu is just making a mountain out of a molehill.”
“Is that so?” he hums with a grin. “Then what color is Shirayuki’s hair?”
He stifles a sigh. It’s best to put all this to bed now, before he’s stuck playing what’s this color for the next two years. “Red.”
“What’s the point of this?” Yuzuri yawns, already bored. Obi shoots her a grateful look, glad that at least one of them isn’t going to play Suzu’s game.
It’s too bad he’s already puffed up with unearned confidence, like an evolutionist at a botany lecture. “And what’s the color of Ryuu’s cloak?”
He knows it by heart-- how could he not, when the two most important people in this city wear matching ones-- but still Obi glances up, anticipating a trick. Ryuu stares back, confused and guileless. “Blue.”
“Great, good.” Suzu’s grin stretches from ear to ear. “Now what color is your scarf?”
Obi’s fingers knot in the fabric, the weft tickling the pads of his fingers. “Well, it’s...sort of reddish, isn’t it?”
This is the wrong answer.
“It makes so much sense,” Yuzuri murmurs in wonder. “You really don’t know how ugly Suzu’s outfits are. That’s why you still hang out with him.”
“Hey!” Suzu pouts. “That’s not very nice.”
“No, that has nothing to do with color, it’s the cut.” Anxiety spikes through him. “But wait, it is red isn’t it? My scarf?”
“No,” Miss murmurs at his side, cheeks flushes. “Obi, it’s...it’s green.”
He stares down at it, trying to imagine what that might look like. “Green.”
“It looks very nice on you!” Her small fingers wrapping in the fur at his elbow. “It’s your color, really.”
“Oh, sure,” he murmurs, faint. “I guess it matches my eyes.”
“Hey, what do you mean ‘it has nothing to do with the color?’“ Suzu’s hands fly to his hips, brows drawn tight over the long line of his nose. “My clothes are just fine.”
“They aren’t.” Obi leans in next to him, grin feeling thinner than it should. “But I hang out with you anyway, which means you know we’re really friends.”
Kazaha rubs at his chin, where his ode to Shidan’s goatee is failing to thrive. “You know what this also explains?”
Obi blinks. “What?”
“All the black.”
It’s not Kazaha that says it, oh no. That would be too merciful for a mortifying moment out of his life. Instead it’s low and feminine, and when Miss Kiki leans out from the other side of Miss, it’s like a siren emerging from the depths, teeth bared to tear a man to shreds. “What an interesting thing I’ve learned today.”
“Miss Kiki! How--?” He gulps. “Why--?”
“I came to deliver a message from Wirant,” she drawls, too pleased. “And it seems I’ve earned myself a fine tip.”
“No,” he breathes. “You can’t-- you’re not going to tell Master, are you? Or Sir?”
“Oh,” she hums, looking particularly hungry for manflesh. “I certainly will.”
*
“Oh, there there.” Miss pats his back, the sensation lost among the dozen layers of clothing between them. “I’m sure Kiki won’t tell them, not until you’re ready! You asked her not to.”
“I think that just means,” Obi mutters, voice muffled by his arms and the wall he’s throwing himself over, “that she’ll just enjoy telling them more.”
“Ah...” He doesn’t need to see her to know her grimace. “Yes, that’s...probably right.”
He lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh. It helps a little. So does a bit of flailing.
“They won’t make a big deal out of it,” Miss says, changing tack. “It hardly changes anything! I’m sure they’ll just forget as soon as she tells them.”
He peeps one eye over his elbow. “That’s easy for you to say, you haven’t spent the last half an hour playing What’s That Color.”
“Well,” she wheedles, “they are scholars.”
Obi groans, loud and long, which doesn’t help; but it echoes out over the rooftops, returning back to him, which does.
“How...?”
Miss hesitates, a gloved finger pressed to her lips. He sighs, already braced for the onslaught-- how didn’t you know? how did you go so long without knowing your colors? how do you find people if you can’t even tell what hair color they have--?
“How did you notice?”
Obi lifts his head, unblinking. “What?”
“How did you notice?” Miss repeats, more firmly this time. “You’ve spent your whole life this way, haven’t you? It must have taken something really special to realize there was more than what you see.”
“Uh.” It’s nice that it’s darker here, that it’s cold. He has perfect legitimate reasons to be flushed. “Well, it was Suzu really. He mentioned that--” his teeth clamp down around his words, not letting them out without a hasty edit-- “that people think your hair’s pretty special, and I said I didn’t get why...”
Miss stiffens beside him, a statue that breathes, and he hastily adds, “Not that you aren’t special, Miss. It’s just, the red...”
“Right.” The words comes out stilted, strange. “You can’t see it. You actually...haven’t ever seen it.”
A silence settles on them like a wool blanket; not one of those nice ones at the castle, or the fleecy ones Miss stockpiles like one day the North might run out of sheep, but the itchy, coarse-woven ones of his childhood. Uncomfortable and smelling faintly of animal.
“So,” he coughs, fixing his gaze out over the city. “What did Kiki want?”
“Oh...” Miss shifts, mouth pulling into a guilty grimace. “She came to tell me that the Queen Dowager has invited me to dinner. Tomorrow night.”
His brows raise. “Well, well.”
“Don’t,” she murmurs, head giving the barest shake. “It’s not like that.”
“Are you sure?” He shouldn’t press, but if he doesn’t, no one else will. “After you told Master--”
“I told him a list of reasons why I thought I would be a better ally as a friend, and not as a...” Miss loses steam, letting her words sigh into the air. “I’d like to believe this has to do with my work with Phostyrias.”
He watches her, careful. “But do you?”
“I don’t know,” she says, which is as good as any no.
*
Obi’s barely stepped into the Protector’s solar when Master asks, “What color is my jacket?”
His head swivels, delivering a glare so flat carpets would be jealous. Miss Kiki only hums, shoulder lifting in a disinterested shrug. “I said I was going to tell them.”
Fair enough.
“It’s blue,” he deadpans, flopping onto the cushiest divan. He’s too long for it, his boots spilling off one arm a idling over the floor. “Apparently I can see that one just fine.”
According to Miss, at least; she’d unearthed a slip of a book from the university’s library, outlining the limits of his sight. Little Ryuu had pored over it for a day before showing up at his door, flushed faced and nervous.
Garrack always told me I had nice eyes, he’d admitted, lingering at the threshold. I was hoping you could see them.
Cross as he is about the whole thing, Obi can’t regret that. He might not have Miss’s hair, or Suzu’s coat-- thankfully-- but Ryuu’s eyes would always look true to him.
“But not red.” Master’s mouth twitches, far too entertained. “Or green.”
“I do see them,” he protests. “They just...don’t look very different to me.”
Just another shade of yellow and brown, if those books are right. Which they are, since he’d always thought so. Subtly different, like the way Suzu and Yuzuri fought over salmon, or Master and Miss Kiki would dither over chartreuse. Just enough that he’d been able to eke by on keeping his mouth shut and a fondness for black.
Still, there’s nothing worse than finding out something new about yourself this late in the game. Especially when--
“What about the curtains?” Master inquires. “Can you see those?”
--Especially when it’s so endlessly entertaining to everyone else. “I can see them,” he grumbles, sinking further into the cushions. “Just because I can’t see some colors doesn’t mean I’m blind.”
“Then what about the note?”
Obi rolls his gaze to where Sir perches at his desk. “Huh?”
“To our red-haired guest.” Sir coughs, a flush working its way up his neck. “It’s just-- you wrote that.”
“Oh, His Grace told me that one.” A lifetime ago, it seemed. “‘The red-haired girl, you’ll know her when you see her, I’m sure.’“
Master winces. Obi can admit his talent doesn’t lie with impressions, especially ones of dour old men.
“Right,” Sir presses, voice oddly tight. “But you don’t see-- I mean, how could you find a girl that looks just like everyone else?”
“Ah...” He grimaces, scrubbing at the top of his head. “Well, I just looked for the girl who didn’t belong. It--” he hesitates, suddenly aware of Master’s eyes on him-- “didn’t take very long.”
Master’s frown belongs above one of those prie-dieu, to remind penitents that forgiveness isn’t absolute. “What is that supposed to--?”
“So what does she look like?” No one could say that after a decade of dedication, Miss Kiki doesn’t know how to do her job; she deflects Master’s brewing sour mood with the ease of a professional. “What does her hair look like to you?”
“Uh.” He clears his throat, tugging at his collar. “I wasn’t lying when I said I bought my scarf to match...”
There is a stillness to the room that is too much, too pitiful. Much as he hated it, Obi would much rather be a joke than a charity case.
“Huh,” Sir grunts, gaze still fixed to his neck. “Now I wonder what we all look like to you.”
“Well, I sort of wonder what you all look like to yourselves.” Obi let a sigh float wistfully through his lips. “At least I know that me and Miss still have the same eyes.”
There’s silence again, but this one buzzes, filled with words no one dares to say.
“What?” he laughs, nervous, pulling himself upright. “Don’t we?”
Sir grimaces. “Ah, Obi...”
*
Miss is quiet when they walk the walls home that night, the winter stillness making the silence and heavy as any drift. Her mouth is pursed, not with anything like anger, but something closer to consideration. As if there’s words back there she’s sorting through, trying to compose a thought that just won’t come.
Well, she should know: she won’t get anywhere if she doesn’t air a few of them out to look at. “Something wrong, Miss?”
She blinks, shaken out from wherever she gone away. Her mind palace, maybe. Suzu’d told him about those once, with busts and painting and curtained alcoves. What she’d do with a place like that, he couldn’t imagine, but if anyone asked, he’d put his money on hers having apothecary drawers instead, and gardens too. The kind with half crumbled walls, ivies curled around every stone. Cluttered desks piled high with books, and one of them with curtain drawn to let its owner nap the afternoon away.
“Oh,” she breathes, finally. “No, no. Nothing’s, um, wrong. I was just...thinking.”
He lifts a knowing brow. “So something is wrong.”
“That’s not what I said,” she informs him, primly. “I was going over my meeting with Haruto, and...”
Her lips snap shut around the words, distress narrowing her eyes. “And...?”
“She didn’t know about my work,” Miss huffs, arms wrapping tight around her chest. “Or, she did, but only what Zen had told her. Which...”
Was far less than the whole of it. He’d heard that part of her argument that night, try as he might not to. “So she invited you as Zen’s ally?”
“No.” The word is colder than any he’s ever heard fall from her lips. “That I wouldn’t mind-- I’m still trying to be his ally, after all, and if she saw me as an asset...” She shook her head. “No, she wanted to meet his...paramour, even if she didn’t say as much.”
Obi grimaces.
“And even that wouldn’t be so bad if...” Miss took a deep, steeling breath. “When I came in, after all the curtsies and pleasantries, she said, your hair is just as red as he said it was.” Her knuckles are white where they wrap around her elbows. “All those years, all those letters, and the only thing he thinks to tell his mother is that my hair...”
The rest is lost in a sigh, a cloud of mist swirling off the wall.
“It must really be something,” Obi deadpans, gaze following it off the edge. “Since it makes all these people forget how smart you are.”
She’s watching him; he can feel it as she sidles up to where he stands, hands unclenching from her arms and splaying on the crenellations instead. “Obi, you really can’t...?”
Miss hesitates, falls silent. He lets her; she’s put enough words in the air to sort through, and now all she needs is time. Obi’s happy to give it to her.
Especially since there’s a rabbit down there in the dark. A small one, moving slow, hind legs churning like clockwork winding up. It’s nose digs into the snow, snuffling around, searching--
“Can you really see better?” Miss asks, startling him back to the wall. “In the dark, I mean. That book said you could.”
“Well, after the past couple days, I’m a little shaky on what’s normal.” He jerks his chin over the edge. “Can you see the rabbit down there? Right by that sapling?”
She blinks, pressing in close. “The what? It’s just...dark out there.”
“Well,” he says, grin tight on his lips. “There’s your answer.”
Miss settles back on her heels, one hand already cupping her chin. “It makes sense. Without the distraction of color, your movement tracking must be much more acute...”
Obi only half-manages to stifle a laugh. “Seems like it definitely distracts everyone else.”
Miss goes quiet; almost too quiet, enough to make his teeth sit on edge. The seconds tick by, and Obi might play at patience, but it’s not in his nature. He glances down, just from the corners of his eyes, but Miss is already watching him, eyes strangely shuttered.
“Obi,” she says, so clear his name rings in his ears. “You don’t...? My hair, it’s not...” Her mouth works, quiet, before she manages, “It’s not anything to you?”
Anything special, she means. Because that’s what he said so stupidly last night, nothing special.
She’d tied it up tonight, finagling the strange looping knots that were partial to the queen’s court, but already some of it’s worn loose, slipping from its pins. “It is,” he murmurs. “I like it.”
She huffs, unimpressed. “But you can’t see it, not really.”
“Of course I can see it,” he laughs, weary. “Maybe not the color, but that’s fine. I like it because it’s yours.”
She ducks her head, and Obi might not be good at colors, but he can see her cheeks flush in the lamplight.
“Miss.” Her gaze lifts to his, no longer shuttered, just full. “Can I ask you something?”
Her breath catches. “Anything.”
“Be straight with me,” he pleads. “We do have the same eye color right?”
*
“Obi!” Miss‘s laughter bubbles bright with betrayal as she hops down the stairs after him. “Obi, please--”
“Let me grieve, Miss,” he grumbles, hands shoved in his pockets. “I’ve been a real champ about the rest, but let me have this.”
“Obi!” She catches him round the wrist, mouth twitching as she turns to him. “Is it really so bad that they’re gold?”
“No,” he mutters sullenly, shoulders slumped enough that with two stairs between them, they’re nearly the same height. “It’s just...”
Her eyes flutter wide with curiosity. “Just...?”
“It’s fine enough that they’re unique.” He spits the word with more venom than it deserves. “I just I wanted this one thing in common.”
“In common?” Miss blinks. “You mean, me and...?”
Obi would lay down his life for his mistress, but even she can’t ask him to do this, to lay down his pride for her to walk on.
“Oh!” She flusters, limbs fluttering in the air between them. He’s half-tempted to turn away again, but she grabs his face and holds him steady, her cold, slender fingers caught behind his jaw. “Just-- just one moment...”
“Miss?” he wheezes. This is entirely too close, too much--
“Yes!” He breath flutters over his lips, her own parting in a celebration of teeth. “That’s it. I see it. There’s a little, right there.”
He blinks. “A little what, Miss?”
Her teeth flash around the word, “Green.”
It’s cruel to throw a starving dog a bone, but he snaps it up anyway, heart nearly clogging up his throat with hope. “D’you mean it? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Really,” she promises, her nod serious and officious as any she might give Little Ryuu. “There’s a thread, right around the middle. Green. Just like mine.”
“Oh.” His own hands raise, leather muting the feel of her skin, but-- Master always told him about the red thread that bound him and Miss together, that drew them toward their fated meeting, but this-- Obi will take this too. “Thank you, Miss.”
She smiles, eyes shining bright in the lamplight. “No, Obi, it’s my pleasure.”
Not much different between green and red to him, anyway.
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Text
The crew with their soulmate headcannons
Ok, to make it up to y'all for the angst yesterday, here's a response to the death by broken heart post 😌
This one goes out to @smokeywhalee since I've had her crying for the past like three posts 💀💀😂 I also snuck in a little something to the Weaver one for @direwolfspostsrandomshit and I specifically 😌💅🏻
No warnings, just a very long post and lots of fluff lol
Adler
You two met when he was still young, before he even joined the CIA
Back when he was a goofy, carefree kid who didn't know better
You've been with him through so much by now, that he knows he can always count on you when something's bothering him
There's no one he trusts more in the whole world
Adler knew you were the one around the time he got his scars
He thought for sure you'd leave him, thinking he looked like some kind of monster with half his face bandaged and bloodied like it is
But when he came home from the hospital, you were so overjoyed to see him again, it's like the bandages weren't even there
You kissed his face and helped him clean and dress the stitches and cuts everyday until they healed
With you there to give him all that affection, he's never let his scars make him feel any less then handsome
Of course, it doesn't hurt that you remind him often
Even now, he never tires of you kissing his scars
Hudson
You and Hudson met in college, back when he was a shy, nerdy outcast
It's not like you were exactly popular, but you at least had some social circles to run in
He never thought someone like you would even look twice at someone like him, but...
He's been wrong before
One day you decided to give him a chance, maybe just see what his story is, and you've never looked back since
Hudson's life path calls for the utmost secrecy for nearly everything, and you've lost contact with a handful of people because of it
But you've never complained
If anything, you consider it their loss for losing you
That's how Hudson knew you were the one
You have an undefeatable, never give up attitude and can find the silver lining in just about everything you put your mind to
And of course... You indulge him in his love of head rubs
It's you and his best kept secret of all
Lazar
You've known each other since you were just kids
For him, it was puppy love at first sight, and he was crushing hard before he knew it
But... He was always insecure about his weight, being a bit chunky as a kid and all
He was afraid of rejection because of it
A shame really, since you would've loved him no matter what
But as fate would have it, you stayed friends all the way up until highschool where sports had him shedding weight like crazy
All the fluctuation has left him with stretch marks, some loose skin, and a belly pouch, but luckily growing up gave him enough confidence to make up for it
He asked you to the senior dance your last year of highschool, and later that night you shared your first kiss behind the bleachers outside
You were his first kiss ever
Lazar always knew you were the one
You've been his closest friend and biggest supporter since you were kids on a playground
He just wanted to make himself feel worthy of you first
No one else makes him feel as comfortable in his skin as you do, and only you are allowed the special honor of touching his body
A gift you exercise frequently when you cuddle him at night
Mason
Alex didn't meet you until after Vietnam and the whole... brainwashing business
After trying and trying for years only to end up with an ever growing list of failed relationships, he just assumed he was too damaged to love
Besides, he's getting a bit older now... Maybe he's just not meant to find someone
Or so he thinks
He meets you randomly in public, on an ordinary day in an ordinary place
You two happen to hit a conversation and it just keeps going and going...
Until finally you exchange numbers and begin seeing each other more frequently
And that's when Alex knows you're the one, he can just... feel it deep down
But it isn't until one, vulnerable night, when he tells you about his past and the war and.... Well, everything, that he knows for sure
With so much fear being pushed about the Russian threat and all that, he thought for sure the knowledge that he's been a brainwashed sleeper agent once would scare you away
It was a shock for sure, but... You aren't afraid of him, in fact, you feel sympathetic for his plight of anything
Alex doesn't need your sympathy, mind, but he is thankful for the empathy
That's all he wants, really
That, and someone who'll hold him through the nightmares at night
Looks like he lucked out there too :)
Park
She met you as a fellow agent through MI6
Things were purely professional for a looooong time
But she must admit though, you're quite charismatic, cunning, and frankly?
Adorable
Helen's not quite sure when the joking, friendly flirting turned serious but...
She's glad for it
You ask her out on a date first and things go well
More then well
She doesn't kiss and tell, but let's just say... She knows you're the one
You always have her back on the field and off
You're her closest friend and confident
She's breaking the rules by cluing you in on the goings on with the hunt for perseus and all, but there's no one here she trusts more for feedback and brainstorming
But it's probably a good thing you're not in the safehouse, considering you almost killed someone after the skyhook debacle
She rolls her eyes at your fussing, but you swear to never let her go again
And you know what? Park may not show it, but she loves how much you care for her
Perseus
He met you back in the ussr, when he still looked like his picture
You two grew close in your service to the government, and you were one of the first people he trusted to try and recruit for his operation
When you didn't even hesitate to say yes, that's when he knew you were the one
You've already proven yourself and impressed him with your wit and integrity in your service to the ussr
In fact, few have ever stood out to him in such a way as you have
All he needed to know was if you trusted him and truly believed in a better future
Many are jelous to see you running around with the exceptionally handsome man, but perseus was never one to get hung up on looks
However, he's glad you enjoy his appearance as much as you do his mind
Together, you raise hell for the capitalists, bringing a true biting edge to the cold war threat
In return for your loyalty, he does all he can to keep you a secret, both as his lover and his accomplice
If anything happened to you like what happened to Bell...
He would take the fight to your captors himself
And they wouldn't stand a chance...
Weaver
He met you through working in Requiem
You're one of the strike team operators, but you spend a fair amount of time talking with the consultants and himself back at base
Weaver finds you a little intimidating, but in a good kind of way
Sort of how he use to be back in the day
When he realizes he may or may not have a little thing for you, he suddenly becomes very shy
He's afraid to try and make a move on you because surely rejection would be the only outcome?
After all, he's way too far past his prime by now, missing an eye and slowly letting himself fall out of shape
It's a mess
So why haven't you just moved on from him yet...?
Doctor Grey seems strangely invested in this little one sided romance, so with a bit of help, he manages to ask you out for coffee
The last thing he expected was for you to say yes
It's not until the day that you almost don't make it back to base that he realizes how very much you mean to him
Weaver stays with you as frequently as he can while you recover and can often be found cuddling you in your med bay bed (bc why the hell not?) or at home
He has to pull back a little on visiting you in the med bay however
He's starting to get teased for how much he loves all the head pets, jaw scratches, and tummy rubs you give him while you're bored and resting
Carver has now begun addressing him as "Fido" with no end in sight
Woods
He meets you out at the marine base he spends all his time at
It was one of the many occasions that he was doing target practice at the range, and he today he's caught you watching him
At first he honestly didn't think much of it, but of course he took the opportunity to show off a little
He succeeded in managing to lure you over with his skills, where you came to stroke his ego a bit
For that, he offers to show you some pointers and before either of you know it, target practice together becomes a regular occurance
From there, anything more social is up to you to initiate
He's a bit taken aback when you invite him out to do something off base sometime, but... He accepts
Once out of his element, he's like a whole other person
You're surprised to find that he's a lot more shy and little more warm towards you
You find it adorable
That starts the slippery path to how he knows you're the one
You're the only person he truly feels like he can be himself with
Everyone else expects the hardened sargent, and while that is still him...
He never feels like he has an opportunity to share his softer side
You can never complain about being cold or lonely with him around
Frank loves nothing more then cuddling with you whenever and wherever he can
Not only is it just, well, nice, to have the human contact, but it makes him feel like he gets to protect you
And nothing makes him happier then to see you safe :)
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floating-mid-air · 3 years
Text
The Princess of all Saiyans
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 Masterlist
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Hey Everyone! It's been a while. My life's been kind of hectic the past couple of months. Long story short: I Graduated from Highschool this year, so I was busy with everything having to do with that. Then my summer job sadly prevented me from writing as well. And then I started College, which was a big change for me. For now, there are no more chapters in my life opening or closing. Now I'm finally in a place where I feel comfortable continuing this book again. I could've honestly been writing during all of this chaos. But I wouldn't have been pleased with the quality of my writing. I'm really excited to get back into the swing of things. I don't think this chapter panned out the way I originally planned, but I'm still happy with it. As always, I hope you enjoy it. And if you have any comments or concerns, feel free to let me know. My inbox is always open!
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Chapter 11
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You've been walking for quite some time now, and the experience has been excruciating. You haven't been in this much pain since you and Raditz were on planet Telia, ten-something years ago. Those damn underlings were able to get a good sneak attack on you. Though you can't say, you let them get away scot-free. You made sure to make their entire dreadful race pay for that injury. You and Raditz had covered up that incident, much like you're doing with your current injury.
"So---" You can hear Goku talking to Krillin from just slightly left of you. "Did you guys find the senzu beans?" Wow, Kakarot may be the least subtle creature you've ever encountered.
"Ya." Krillin chuckles. "All four of us were in pretty rough shape." Goku glances at you with a worried look on his face. You glare at him as Raditz eyes the two of you skeptically. He knows something's off between the two of you. Maybe something serious did happen while you and his brother were trapped together. 
A bit more time has passed, and you've been trying your best to keep up with the others. But it isn't as easy as you thought. You're now trailing behind the rest of them, with Raditz turning back to look at you every so often. The largest Saiyan slows down to catch up with your slower pace, now walking beside you.
He turns to you, whispering in a low tone. "Something's off." Raditz can no longer stay silent about his concerns. First, it was the strange vibes between you and Kakarot. And now it's your out-of-character demeanor making him uneasy.
"About what?"
"You. Typically you walk beside your brother, and when he doesn't let you, you make sure you're always only a few paces behind. But right now, you couldn't be more content to trail everyone. Plus, you're far too confident to not be in the very front." Raditz has been around far too long for your liking. Damn him. He knows you far too well, and you hate him for it.
You roll your eyes at him. "So this conclusion of yours is based on the way I'm walking? I'm tired. When I fought, Burter, that physically drained me. And then I got trapped in a ditch with your moronic brother, that mentally drained me. I'm exhausted, Raditz." 
"It's not just the way you're walking. It's your mannerisms as well." He points at your side. "Your hand hasn't moved from your side from the moment I first saw you."
"God, Raditz." You scoff. "Stop overanalyzing everything."
"Getting defensive now? That's your M.O whenever you're hiding something." He looks back and forth between your face and your hand that has remained glued to your side. The gears in the older Saiyan's head slowly but surely turning. " Y/N, are you hurt?" 
"No." You snap your eyes shut, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt to suppress a wince of pain. "I'm fine."
He tilts his head at you. "Y/N, I know you claim otherwise, but I'm not stupid. I know you're in pain."
You chuckle softly in a self-pitying way. "Am I that easy to read?"
Raditz shakes his head, smiling to himself. "No, I've just known you for a long time now." He returns to his serious demeanor, his gaze returning to the area of your wound. "How bad is it?"
"I barely feel it at all. Though, climbing out of that ditch must have reopened the cut."
Raditz snickers. "You're a bad liar."
"That's strange. I've been told in the past that I'm quite good at lying."
A smirk spreads across Raditz's lips. "Well, you apparently aren't when I'm involved."
The larger Saiyan glances at the back of your brother's head. You respond with a glare, firmly pulling on a large chunk of his hair. You know what Raditz wants to do, and it's not happening. "Don't even think about it."
"I-I think we should tell him Y/N."
"No." You let go of his hair, tapping his chest with extreme force. "You're going to keep your big mouth shut. Vegeta will freak out. You know how irrational he gets."
Raditz decides to let you have your way--- for now. The man can't help but wonder why you're so stubborn, but then again, his nature isn't much different from yours.
With every minute that passes, your condition only seems to worsen. Your eyes even start to droop. "Y/N?" Raditz turns to you, his features beginning to fill with worry. He places one of his large hands on your forehead. You're burning up. "You have a fever. Your wound must be infected."
"No." You shake your head in disagreement, almost like a child. As your mental state becomes more and more delirious. 
"Vegeta!" Raditz shouts, gaining your brother's attention.
"Fuck you, Raditz! You're such a blabbermouth!" You shout at the larger Saiyan in front of you.
"What's wrong this time? Is my sister trying to pull you into another one of her elaborate schemes?"
"Y/N's hurt--- bad." Vegeta's eyes widen, and not even a millisecond later, he rushes to your side. "She has a fever. I think her cut is infected."
"Where is it?" He crosses his arms at you, noticing your hand placed firmly on your side. He moves your hand out of the way with ease, lifting your armor. "How did this happen?"
"Burter nicked me during our fight. It's no big deal."
"No big deal? It's infected, you stupid woman!" He turns his attention to Kakarot. "Did you know about this?"
You snicker. "Oh ya, Vegeta. I get hurt, and the first person I run to tell is Kakarot." Vegeta's fists clench at your sarcastic remark, turning his fit of rage back at you.
"You know, in certain situations, you're more prone to infections. And a planet like Namek checks all of the boxes! You know you need to be more careful. Damn our mother and her faulty genetics!" Sadly that's a trait you had inherited from your mother. On most planets, you'd be fine, and injuring yourself would be no big deal. But Namek has specific conditions that result in you being more vulnerable. 
"Raditz, pick her up." Raditz picks you up, giving you a piggyback ride. You wrap your arms around his neck, giving yourself better balance. Vegeta glances up at you. He looks even madder than usual. "With the condition, you're in, you will not be fighting. You will stay away from Jeice, and you won't even enter the same proximity as Ginyu. Do you understand me?"
"But--"
"No!" His voice booms, gaining the attention of every creature for miles. "I'm not kidding around. Do you understand me?"
You bite your lip, tilting your head downwards, avoiding your brother's gaze like the plague. "Yes, Vegeta." Vegeta returns to the front of the group, his mood sourer than ever.
As Raditz begins to walk, he starts talking to you again. "Are you mad at me?" You don't verbally respond. Instead, you claw into his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. "Fuck. I'll take that as a yes."
"You're a tattletale."
Raditz chuckles. "No wonder why Vegeta babies you. You'll thank me for this later, you stubborn woman. And I've kept your secrets before, handfuls of them, actually. Like what happened on planet Telia----" Raditz realized the grave mistake he had just made, mentioning that incident in the presence of the very being you worked so hard to hide it from.
You slap the older Saiyan upside the head as Vegeta turns backward, a scowl plastered on his face. "What happened on plant Telia?" It was a rhetorical question, mocking both you and Raditz. "Oh, the three of us will be discussing this in length later. Because it sounds to me like you both lied to me on that initial report." You and Raditz gulp, you've heard that tone from your brother millions of times now, and it has never once become any less terrifying. 
"Oh, lighten up, Geta." You groan. "That was like, what? Around thirteen years ago?"
"The amount of time that has passed matters very little to me. As I said before, this is a discussion for later."
A few more hours have passed, which honestly feels like days at this point. And considering Namek's strange day cycle, it very well could've been. "How much farther?" Your question was clearly directed at Vegeta. And at this point, you're not even sure he has any idea where you're headed either.
"I don't know why you're the one complaining." Raditz huffs.  "You're not the one doing all of the walking! And if you ask him that one more time, I'm going to drop you." Ok so maybe, that wasn't the first time you've asked that question today. Or the second, or third, you're very bored. 
"Man Raditz." You roll your eyes, which are barely open at this point. "You sure complain--- a lot."
"You were just complaining." The long-haired Saiyan grumbles. 
"No, I simply asked Vegeta a question. There's a difference Raditz. I know it's hard for your feeble mind to understand." When you're sick, you tend to act, oh what's the word? Bitcher than normal. And that's saying a lot.
Raditz clenches his jaw. "Vegeta. I need a break from your sister."
"That's how I felt ninety percent of the time I was stuck in a room with you, Nappa, and Cado. And you didn't see me running to wine to Frieza about it."
Before Raditz can retort, your brother interjects. "That's enough! From both of you!"
Krillin, Gohan, and Goku have identical bewildered expressions on their faces. Krillin turns to Vegeta, lowering his voice to a whisper. He doesn't want to be the next victim of your wrath. "Do they always fight like this?" The human finds this perplexing. Back on Earth, the pair seemed inseparable. They appeared to be the Saiyan equivalent of what on Earth would be considered best friends.
Vegeta lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, but typically it's more playful in nature. When my sister is sick, she becomes even brattier than usual."
Vegeta's warning to both of you seems to have fallen on dead ears. Because your quarrel has not ceased, in fact, it has only elevated. "I will drop you, you royal brat!"
"I dare you to you second-class runt. I could still kick your ass even in my delirious state. I wouldn't even have to try very hard."
"I'm considering----"
Before Raditz can even get three words out, your bickering is once again interrupted, and not by the person you may think. "Enough!" Gohan shouts. You honestly forgot the others were here for a moment."If you two keep fighting like this, you're going to get all of us killed!" You and Raditz stare at the boy in shock. It's been a long time since the two of you have been yelled at by a child. The last time being when you were children yourselves. Vegeta hasn't changed much since childhood. He's been bossing you around and shouting at you since you were children, but I'm sure that's not very surprising. 
"Ya, and I can take Y/N---- if you need a break." Goku rubs the back of his neck, chuckling sheepishly. "Not that I want to hold Y/N or anything."
"No." You rapidly shake your head. "Raditz, I'm sorry. I'll be good now--- I promise."
A wicked grin spreads across Raditz's lips right before he grabs your hands with his larger ones. He loosens your grip around his neck, moving your body with ease, scooping you up into his arms. Every step Raditz takes toward Goku seems even more antagonizing slower than the last. Until he's standing directly in front of his younger brother. He elevates his arms slightly, dropping you right in front of an unsuspecting Goku.
Lucky for you, Goku has sharp reflexes. That allows the Saiyan to catch you easily. Raditz look's his brother dead in the eyes, his typical arrogant grin still on his lips. "She's your problem now, Kakarot." Raditz gazes downward to look at you. "Stop pouting. Maybe next time, you'll be nicer to good old Raditz."
A low growl echoes in the back of your throat as you glare daggers at the Saiyan standing before you. "Ya, or maybe next time, I'll rip out your tail and strangle you with it!" The only thing that's stopping you from lunging at Raditz is Goku's firm grip holding you in place.
Rather than arguing that the entire group has become accustomed to, the whole area has become dead silent. You're no longer pouting. Instead, you are glaring at the man who continues to carry you bridal style. You've never liked being held like this. It makes you feel weak like you have no control over your own body.
What makes you even more irritated, Is how Goku reacts to your death stare. He just grins at you. Does he just never get angry? What kind of Saiyan is he? It fills you with so much anger that someone as dopey as Kakarot has Saiyan blood flowing through his veins. 
You clench your fists. You just wanna punch Kakarot so badly. He just has such a punchable face. If you could take away his cheery personality, he'd actually be quite attractive. Wait--- what the hell are you thinking? Kakarot is stupid and way too friendly for you to ever think of him in that way.
 You move your fist up, finally giving in to your urges, attempting to punch the man holding you. Probably not your wisest moment, but your brain isn't functioning normally right now. Goku catches your hand with ease. His reflexes are unreal, or maybe this fever has you more sluggish than you believed. You'd prefer to think that it's the second option. He chuckles to himself. He's still not upset. What the hell is wrong with him? "Come on, Y/N. You gotta be quicker than that." He's challenging you. How Saiyan like of him. You seem to always be able to find specks of Saiyan nature in the cheerful man. And those are the aspects you actually like about him. 
Your eyes begin to once again feel heavy as your eyes droop shut, just before you fall asleep in the arms of your enemy. 
Twenty-Something Years Ago:
You're sitting on your bed, sitting crisscrossed, a book laying open on your lap. Since your father is currently off-planet, you can read all you want. You're enamored with your newest book. It's all about a topic referred to as diplomacy. It's fascinating and has many concepts that are entirely foreign to you, yet at the same time, some of these ideas are also familiar. 
As you read, your door slams open, but you pay the interruption almost no attention, not even bothering to look up from your book. Honestly, the unwelcome intrusion has you more angered than anything else. "God, Vegeta." You roll your eyes. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Something's not right. When Vegeta usually bursts into your room, he's automatically shouting at you.
Out of pure curiosity, you look up from your book. However, standing at your door, you don't find Vegeta. A boy with a very similar appearance but with a much smaller stature stands in your door frame. He's out of breath, desperately huffing for air. "Tarble?" You furrow your brows at your brother, launching off your bed to get closer to him. "What's wrong?" You have this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your twin has never behaved in such a manner before. 
"Captain--- Captain Ginyu is here." Tarble is shaking, his eyes watering slightly.
You scowl ever so slightly. "But Ginyu's not scheduled to be on planet Vegeta any time soon." 
"It's--- It's a surprise visit. What do we do, Y/N?"
You contemplate for a moment before your features fill with alarm. "Tarble? Where's Vegeta?"
His lip quivers as he looks down at the floor. "He's with Captain Ginyu."
"Damn it." You mutter under your breath. Diplomacy is a skill you need right now. And Vegeta doesn't have a single quality that a diplomat possesses. Your elder brother is more likely to unnecessarily provoke the Captain, putting your entire race in hot water with the Frieza Force. 
You rush over to your bedside table, rummaging through the drawer. Once you have your scouter in your hand, you run back over to your brother. "Stay in here, and use this to channel our father. Let him know what's going on." You push past your twin, about to leave, before Tarble's voice calls out to you.
"Wait, Y/N!" You turn back to look at him. "Where are you going?"
"I have to go stop our older brother from doing something stupid. Everything will be fine, I promise. Just calm down and do as I said." And with that, you take off, praying that Vegeta hasn't already done something rash.
As you sprint down the halls of the palace, you run face-first into the torso of a large body. "Princess?"
You look up at the bald Saiyan, the one who's supposed to be at your brother's side at all times. Since the future king of planet Vegeta needs to be protected. "Nappa, Where is my brother?"
The imbecile scratches the back of his neck, contemplating much longer for your liking. "I'm not sure. I haven't seen the runt in quite some time. You should probably ask Vegeta." 
You scowl at the Saiyan. "Not Tarble, you fool! I'm asking you where Vegeta is!"
"Oh, Why didn't you just say so?" It's taking every ounce of restraint you have in your body to not viciously attack Nappa. "He's just outside of the palace." 
You run through Nappa, intentionally knocking the large Saiayn onto the floor. His stupidity lost you precious time. It was quite an amusing sight, though. A mere child, being able to take down one of your father's best warriors. 
You arrive outside of the palace, your eyes landing on your target. This is the first time you've ever seen Captain Ginyu. Sure, you've heard stories of the purple man. And much like your people, Ginyu is just as bloodthirsty and just as ruthless. Much to your surprise, the Captain doesn't have an army behind him. This was just before the Ginyu Force had formed. All Ginyu was at this point in time was a captain of one of Frieza's many armies. 
You walk over to them, now standing at your brother's side. "Captain Ginyu." You speak with your hands, an exaggerated smile appearing on your lips. "To what do we owe the honor?"
The man looks down at you, clearly analyzing you with his scouter. "Well, if this isn't a surprise. I think this is the first time I've had the pleasure of meeting you, Y/N." Ginyu extends his large hand out to you, causing Vegeta to feel a great deal of alarm. Your brother's body has gone tense with an apprehensive look on his face. But when your older brother looks over to you, there isn't even a glint of fear in your eyes. You're calm, almost as if one of Lord Frieza's deadliest warriors was not standing before you. You accept the Captain's hand, presenting him with a short but polite handshake. "Your father doesn't like showing you off much, does he?" 
You chuckle softly. "My father likes to hold his cards close to his chest. I'm sure a man like yourself is quite similar." Sucking up to Ginyu is not your favorite pastime, but it needs to be done. And every Saiyan on this planet knows your big brother is far too prideful to do it himself.
Ginyu looks between you and Vegeta carefully. For someone so highly regarded by Frieza, he sure isn't subtle. He's trying to read your facial expressions. Unfortunately for him, your father has raised you both much better than that. A poker face to you feels more natural than a genuine expression. "Speaking of your father, where is he right now?"
"He's of---"
You quickly cut Vegeta off. "He's in a meeting. That's why our father sent me out. He wanted you to know he sends his regards, but his hands are tied at the moment. He will be here at soon as possible. I hope my brother and I can suffice your needs in the meantime."
Captain Ginyu eyes you skeptically, tilting his head at you ever so slightly. "That sounds serious. I hope it's nothing too pressing."
"Of course not. It's nothing my father can't handle."
You're about to continue your schmoozing, but you're stopped by Vegeta aggressively yanking on your arm. "We need to talk-- in private."
You grimace at your brother's words. He just always has to make everything that much more difficult for you. You turn back to Ginyu, offering the man a cheerful smile. "Will you excuse us for a moment? We'll be right back."
Vegeta drags you around a corner, concealing you both from Ginyu's prying eyes. "What do you think you're doing?" He huffs at you in a whisper. "I had everything under control."
You snicker, crossing your arms. "You were just about to tell Ginyu that our father was off-planet. It sounds to me like I got here just in time to prevent you from making a grave mistake."
"I don't see why that matters."
"And that's the issue, Vegeta. Now we don't have time for this. Let's go." You turn back around, walking back over to Ginyu, Vegeta trailing not far behind. "I'd like to apologize for my brother's rudeness, Captain Ginyu." You shake your head but with a slight smirk across your lips. "All Saiyan men are the same, and my brother is no exception. They're incredibly thickheaded and quite savage. I'm convinced they don't even realize what brutes they are." You watch your brother ball his hands up into fists from beside you. It fills you with an immense feeling of joy knowing you're getting under Vegeta's skin for once. You turn back to Ginyu, plastering that disingenuous grin on your face. "Now, how about we give you a tour of our wonderful planet?"  
You and Vegeta have shown Ginyu around almost the entirety of your planet, and you must admit you're beginning to grow worried. Luckily you've managed to hold off any more questions about your father's whereabouts by charming him with various facts about planet Vegeta. But to be honest, you're not sure how much longer you can hold up this charade for. You've exhausted pretty much every idea that you've been able to come up with.
"Captain Ginyu!" Your father's brash voice invades your ears as you turn around to finally see the man you've been anxiously waiting for. You've never seen your father walk in such an urgent manner, and it's pretty funny watching your twin struggling to keep up with your father's pace. 
Your father places himself between you and Vegeta, ruffling your hair affectionately. You look up at him. "How'd your meeting go?"
Your father meets your gaze, catching onto your deception almost immediately. "It went very well. Thank you both for keeping Captain Ginyu company in my absence, but I think I can handle it from here." He directs his attention back onto Captain Ginyu. "Now, how about we discuss you're abrupt arrival somewhere more private."
The two men exit your field of view, leaving the three of you alone. Tarble, in his typical fashion, glues himself to your side. "What the hell was that?" Vegeta spits out with venom. "Where was your pride? You were basically groveling at his feet."
You furrow your brows at him. "I was doing what needed to be done. And if you think our father isn't currently doing the same thing, you're a bigger fool than I thought."
"I know our father is being more agreeable with him, but not at the cost of his pride."
"It's always about pride with you." You step closer to Vegeta, closing the distance between you. "Your pride today would have cost the loss of countless lives today, Vegeta."
"Then so be it. If there are Saiayn's that inadequate on our planet, we should probably just exterminate them now. It'll save us the hassle later on."
You snicker, shaking your head at Vegeta. "Some King you'll be." You turn to your twin. "Let's go, Tarble. I have no desire to be near our foolish brother right now."
The conversation between Captain Ginyu and your father was brief. It was a very anticlimactic ending to the naked eye. The briefness of this encounter only set off more alarm bells in King Vegeta's head. It was clear to the man that Ginyu's excuse for being on his planet was bullshit. He's just not quite sure what the captain's intentions were, but he sure as hell is going to find out.
As soon as Ginyu left planet Vegeta, he promptly set course for his next destination. He's headed straight to Lord Frieza to report his findings, and he's eager to do so.
 Ginyu arrives on the planet in record time, heading straight for the throne room. Ginyu kneels before Frieza, waiting for his boss to speak. "Captain Ginyu. You're sure back early. I trust you were able to gather enough information on the young prince."
Captain Ginyu nods enthusiastically. "Of course, Lord Frieza. The Price was exactly the same as the previous data we collected on him. He's powerful and quite intelligent for a Saiyan. Though, he did inherit that nasty temper from his father."
Frieza sighs. "How disappointing."
"But I did discover something that you may find interesting, Lord Frieza."
Frieza tilts his head at the man. He can't help but feel intrigued. "Go on." It's not that easy for him to find an advantage over those monkeys, so he'll take any information Ginyu can give him, no matter how minuscule. 
"Y/N--- King Vegeta's daughter piqued my interest greatly. She's not even close to as strong as her brother, but she's remarkably clever. She's very good with words, she knows how to manipulate people. I'd say she might even be better than King Vegeta himself."
"Now, that is fascinating. Good work, Ginyu. I'll look into the Princess's abilities more in-depth later. You're excused."
-
This is just something I felt the need to clarify: So in this chapter's flashback, Vegeta is around three, and Y/N and Tarble are about two. In my head, I picture children on planet Vegeta behaving like miniature adults. My idea is once they leave their chambers (the tanks they are raised in to get their basic Saiyan instincts under control), their minds are fully grown, but their physical growth is quite delayed. That's why they curse and stuff. I have a minuscule window of time to squash in all of my plot ideas. So this was the best way to do so.
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hcs for poly! tlb with a fem! s/o who’s style is dark academia and is really blunt/logical and smart. she basically gives off a ‘mysterious, quiet, dark, critical’ vibe (she also doesn’t really know how to handle people who are extremely emotional and she doesn’t know how to soothe someone. she’s just really oblivious/clueless when it comes to others feelings). i’m so sorry if what i requested doesn’t make sense or if it was too much. i am seriously incapable of writing anything without making it look like an essay lmao. love your work btw 💕✨
Dark Academia Fem! S/O 
Poly Lost Boys x Fem reader
I had so much fun writing this! I love the dark academia aesthetic! And it made perfect sense and it wasn’t too much! Having a lot actually helps me expand and write more so thank you. And I’m the same, once I have an idea, I write a lot, so you’re all good! And awww!!! Thank you!!! 💗💗✨✨ I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy!
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Okay, so you are very different compared to the large number of characters on the boardwalk. Your style consisted of button shirts, sweaters or turtle necks, dress pants or a plaid pleated skirts, cardigans or waistcoats, oxford shoes or even wire framed glasses if you wore them for seeing or just for the look. 
To say that you caught the boys attention would be an understatement. You seemed to stand out amongst the crowd and they became curious. You were a mystery to them and they love the challenge. 
Somehow, someway, after days or weeks later, you became good friends which soon lead to you dating four trouble making punks. It was tough on both parts, but it happened, and hey, you weren’t complaining. 
You were very blunt when you first met them, not really interested in them and more or less interested in the book in your hands. It took a lot of “accidental” run ins to even get you to hang out with them. 
You slowly opened up when they offered to take you out for dinner at a local diner. They’re constant joking soon had you letting out small, almost whisper-like giggles and tiny smiles that sent them into a frenzy. 
When you would start talking about yourself, your ideas of fun were different from theirs. You liked museums, opera houses, bookstores and going to theaters to see plays. The games you played were chess and cards, and the music you listened to was old. You were pretty sure they thought you were boring but you actually peaked their interest. 
After a while of being friends with them, they asked you out. You liked them and the only logical step was to see if you liked them the same way they liked you was to date them, so you said yes. 
In general, them having a girlfriend with a 1940s/1950s dark prep look was fun. David and Dwayne like it the most. Paul next, then Marko. 
David actually really likes picking out your clothing on most days. You have an extensive collection of clothing with material from cashmere to linen, all the colors consisting of browns, black, cream and even a little dark green. 
His favorite thing to put you in is trench coats. Doesn’t matter what color it is, he just likes seeing you in them. Also, there are a handful of times that he has MADE you wear his trench coat. Yeah it almost swimmed on you, but he thought it made you look cute and it fit in perfectly with your look. 
Dark academia isn’t only your style, but it’s your way of life. David is the one that plays chess with you. You had to reteach it to him and pretty soon, the two of you had your own little set up in the cave that was always ready for a game of chess. 
David is sort of like you… in a way when it comes to others feelings. But deep down he knows that he really likes you and tries to show it the best he can. He took you to a theater to see a play that you were constantly talking about and so he took you on a date. You being you, didn’t realize that’s what it was until he told it straight to your face. Let’s just say you were speechless for the next hour. 
Also, when it’s just the two of you, deep inside the cave where your nest is, classical music is playing from your record player. It could be Beethoven, Tchaikovsky or Mozart. Whoever it is, David is the one that will listen to it with you the most. I think he really enjoys classical music and he enjoys it even more if the two of you are cuddling in your bed. 
Occasionally Dwayne would join the two of you. You would be sitting in between David’s legs as Dwayne sat in between yours, his head leaning back against your chest. It was like a cuddle pile… cuddle train?? Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cuddling while the three of you relaxed listening to classical music. And it was darn cute. 
Dwayne loves listening to you go on and on about any books you were reading at the moment. Whether or not it was nonfiction or even about any type of history. He was down. He lived through a lot and he knew about half of the stuff you gushed on about, but for some odd reason, it never bored him when you talked about it. 
He would be the one to get you new books, leaving you sweet little notes tied to them. Of course you thought it was just him being nice and thanked him for it without thinking there was any romantic meaning behind it. Yeah he was one of your boyfriends but it never really crossed your mind that way. He would just shake his head at your obliviousness and give you a small peck on the lips. 
Don’t ask him why, but his favorite look on you is a light cream colored blouse with a plaid skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Dwayne is a leg man so… he’s very happy when decide to show off some skin if you decide not to wear knee-socks or stockings with it. Even if you did wear them, he would still be attached to your side the entire night. 
Like David, Dwayne would bring you out to a lot of places that were opened late at night. If there was an art exhibition in town or even a museum that was open late, just say the word and he will happily drive you on his bike. Heck, David might even tag along. 
Also, late night bookstore dates… oh my heart, it’s too sweet it hurts. There are times that he does have to throw you over his shoulder when the bookstore is closing and you're pretty much refusing to leave. When he does that, you just stay frozen over his shoulder, not knowing if you should be blushing or cursing at him for carrying you like a sack of potatoes. 
If anything, you and Dwayne connect very well. You’re naturally very quiet and so is he. Not much is said between you two but there's a mutual understanding that can’t be explained. While the others are out causing trouble, you and him are on the sidelines watching hand in hand or your reading and he's just staring at you as you do so. 
Paul and Marko kind of give you whiplash. They’re loud and rowdy and definitely 100% opposite from you. But they interested you. They had a very chaotic outlook on life which made you ask many questions. 
Paul found your look sexy. He’s horny and you give off preppy school vibes, he’s living for it 24/7. Constant teasing of you giving him ‘private lessons’ which results with you whacking a book against the back of his head. But it doesn’t stop the reddening of your ears which doesn’t make him stop.  
This man is also your designated jewelry expert. You only wear some accessories and they're very simple. So you are very surprised when Paul finds you jewelry that is your style and collects it for you. You like leather watches, guess what, he’s got it for you. You want some fancy victorian looking brooches, he’s got that too. Simple rings with a single jewel in the middle, expect constant ‘will you marry me’ jokes, but he gets you the best.
Also, he’s not overly big into your music selection. He does try to get you into his type of music, which you only like very few and far between. But when you do get him to listen to your type of music, it’s only if you agree to listen to his music the next night. You guys come up with a system and decide to switch every few nights. 
Each of the boys have their favorite look on you and Paul's is when you wear a button-up of any color with a simple black tie, a pencil skirt and a pair of Dr.Marten boots. He especially likes the tie… for reasons. God damn it, you know the reasons, get out of here. 
He’s a very affectionate boy and he finds your looks over confusion some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen. Probably the first one to tell you that he loves you and you honestly like glitched out. Did you feel the same way? Yes, but poor little thing you doesn’t say it right away, but Paul knows that you aren’t really used to saying things like that without warming up to it. Which is okay. He knows even if you don’t say it. 
He definitely steals one of your blazers to put pins on it. Marko helps, putting a few patches on it that they both know you would like. It’s the one item that stands out in all of your clothing and you will wear it if they ask you to. 
Marko definitely thinks the look is cute and it suits you very well, but why no color?! You wear dark colors but nothing bright like the colors that are on his jacket. He tries to slip in some colorful clothing into your everyday look, it never goes as planned but you give him an A for effort. 
He loves how dark you can be at times though. You want to go to a local graveyard just because? Sure! Let’s go! He’s your designated graveyard buddy. You have many date nights there, looking at all the different gravestones and finding it interesting when you jot down some names in one of your notebooks. 
Speaking of notebooks, you have many of them. They were filled with notes from books you’ve read, real life observations or even just some random poetry and short stories that you wrote. Marko would go through them a lot and even sometimes draw little doodles or rough sketches that were thought up from your writings. 
When you spend nights down at the Boardwalk, your go to drink isn’t a slushie or a milkshake or even a soda. It’s coffee or tea. Yeah, and only Marko knows your drink orders by heart. None of the others seem to remember them correctly which you thank them for trying but Marko has got them all beat. 
Marko likes seeing you in sweaters and in your trousers or linen shorts with chelsea boots. If anything, when the two of you are alone, just wearing a knit sweater and shorts were perfect for him. He likes how cozy and warm you look. He’s very happy when he cuddles you and you are warm. 
Now when they tell you that they’re vampires, you think that they’re joking. Vampires aren’t real, they’re a work of fiction. Yes there was a real man named Dracula, but there was no way that they were actual vampires. 
Then they showed you hard proof and then there was no denying it at that point. Instead of running away, you were fascinated. You wanted to understand your boyfriends vampire ways that lead to you conducting extensive research and a notebook dedicated to them. 
They showed you everything about them, how they feed, to which you didn’t bat an eyelash of watching them feed one night. You were one morbid chick but they saw that as a plus that you didn’t react. You had graveyard dates for crying out loud, nothing really surprised them at that point.
Flying came next and they had a lot of fun showing you just how high they could go with you in their arms. You never screamed at the height, you were too caught up in seeing the overhead view of the town. You could get used to seeing a view like that every night.  
Then came the other things; how they slept before you came along, what actually hurt them and what didn’t. There was one time that you stared at their vampire faces for hours because you were taking notes on how their facial features changed. 
Soon you had to stock up on more turtlenecks because of the many bite marks they would leave behind from feeding on you if the weather was bad one night. It wasn’t tough adapting to their occasional feeding. A lot of your clothing already covered up your skin so it was easy to hide from people on your nights out. 
Not too long after, they popped the question. Would you want to be a vampire? Live forever, never grow up? Be with them for all eternity? You didn’t really need to think about it for too long, you knew what your answer was and so did they even if you didn’t say it out loud. You loved your boys and not much would change.
When you did change, it was entertaining for them to watch. You soon started taking down notes about your progress, comparing and contrasting your experience to their own. 
To the eyes of many, you became even more dark and mysterious. You had an aura around you that drew people in, it’s what got you your four vampire boyfriends, only now, it brought in your meal for the night.
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bbugyu · 3 years
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of all the views you had seen, there was little that could compare to him.
6.2k | cavalry captain!jeonghan x gn pyro!reader, genshin impact au, fluff, adventure, drinking, so much flirting, mentions of trauma, honestly this is the sweetest i'm ever gonna write jeonghan
happy inazuma release day!!! it's your local kaeya trash, because i predictably fall for gay bastards that lie straight to my face (example: jeonghan), and i'm here to give you a fic i wrote AGES ago and just polished up a bit to celebrate the release of what is likely going to be my FAVORITE region in genshin impact. i'm japanese so 😅 i have a soft spot. if there's any other gaymer carats out there, enjoy this one. if not, sorry! you can actually probably still read this and understand it for the most part, though you might miss a bit of context of the landscape and the lore.
ps. go tell @babiemingoo that wonwoo xinqiu 🤭
~
your work with the adventurer's guild was always efficient. you received your commissions, you carried them out, then returned for your reward, usually before the sun had even peaked. the rest of your day was generally spent either basking in the eternal sun of mondstadt, feeding cats in inazuma, or enjoying a hard earned meal in liyue, depending on where you decided to stay that week, finding board and paying for it with the commission you had earned that day. your tendency to wander came less from choice and more from nature - you could call yourself a nomad, but generally, you just got bored, and preferred seeing everything teyvat had to offer rather than settling in one place. adventuring was simply what you were meant to do, your mother had told you at a young age.
she, too, had wandered for most of her youth, and didn't stop just because you had come into her life. you remembered getting scooped up because you had wandered off a bit too close to the railing at wangshu inn as a toddler, playing with dogs at the docks of liyue harbor. you remembered the ludi harpastum and the first time you had ever had a sweet honey roast, and the way it made your eyes grow ten times in size before you dug in for more.
when your vision was bestowed upon you, you already knew how to use a sword. it was important, your mother told you, that you knew how to protect yourself. she had a vision as well, younger even than you had, and you had come to recognize the static in the air as a sign that she was angry - whether it was because of an altercation with someone on your journey or because you had secretly eaten the last hashbrown without consulting her first.
she used her vision and a sturdy blade she had owned since before you were born to protect the two of you on the road, but when she felt you were old enough, she taught you how to weild. a two handed weapon that was far too big for you when you were only fourteen, but when your reckless abandon got paired with a spark, you suddenly became far more dangerous than even your own mother. she scolded you for nearly starting a forest fire when you tried to pair the two skills for the first time after receiving your vision, and you both agreed that training was a beach activity from then on.
your mother settled eventually, after you were old and skilled enough to take on the road alone, pulling the many favors she had gathered in her travels to build a home in a small neighborhood south of liyue harbor, nestled in the foothills of mount tianheng, where you visited as often as your wandering allowed.
you had become much better with your vision. more careful but just as hot. quick to scan situations and strategize in the moment, hardly taking a second before jumping into action, slaying hilichurls like you were getting paid. well, you were, you supposed, but you had been doing this long before you had discovered the benefit of joining the guild. you were good at it. you were built for adventure, but revelled in leisure. there was good reason you were able to take afternoons off, and you milked every last second of it.
"you're back in town?"
you grinned, leaning your sword against the wall and dropping your bag off your shoulders before settling at the bar. "for now."
rubin often served you alcohol - when you were in mondstadt, at least, however often that may be - but never questioned you deeply. he would ask how your travels were, and listen to your stories from regions beyond his knowledge, of the cultures that he had only heard of from people like you. he enjoyed them just about as much as any, if not a little more, purely because your tenacious personality brought something more to the table. he wondered, though, how long you intended to keep living day by day, sleeping in different beds every week.
"what's wrong with sleeping in different beds?" you teased, laughing into your wine glass. "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were shaming me, rube."
rubin simply laughed, knowing your tone by now. "i just wonder if you ever intend on digging in your roots, or if you'll continue travelling forever."
"if i dig roots, you may never see me again. is that what you want?"
"what," he said. "you don't like mondstadt?"
"i love monstadt," you assured him. "but i also love inazuma. and my mother is in liyue, though she might be upset with me if i try to settle too close to her. perhaps natlan would suit me more?" you shrugged finally, the door behind you opening as you finished with "i suppose i'll settle when i've found a reason to love one place more than the rest."
rubin shook his head, a chuckle falling from his lips. "a wanderer through and through." his attention was quickly drawn to the man entering the bar. "ah, captain! the usual?"
"please," the decorated man said, quickly taking a seat beside you despite the rest of the bar being available. "would you like another, wanderer?"
you eyed him cautiously, studying what you could see if his face around the black eyepatch, gaze skimming down his elaborate clothing before looking down at your emptied drink. "sure."
"another for your wandering friend, rubin, on my tab, please." your brain swirled, considering the brief information you had been given and wondered how you had never managed to meet this regular during your past visits. "are you just drinking dandelion wine, or something more fun?"
"more fun?" you asked. "what are you drinking, then?"
"well, a death after noon, of course," he stated. "don't tell me you haven't had one."
you blinked at him. "i haven't."
you turned towards rubin when he laughed at the back and forth. "shall i make two, then?"
"definitely," your new drinking buddy said, then gestured to you. "you trust my taste, right?"
you said nothing, but he accepted your silent smile as an agreeance. "captain," you said finally, thinking of how rubin had addressed him. "of?"
the man turned towards you, his elbow planted on the bar and his cheek on a fist. despite his get up, he had a playful smirk across his lips. "you mean, my reputation doesn't precede me? you really are a wanderer. everyone in mondstadt knows my name."
"everyone but me," you corrected. "as i'm currently in mondstadt."
his teeth shone behind his smirking lips before he sat up straight. "well, allow me to introduce myself." he saluted, his arm extending from his side at an angle - a salute you recognized from the guards around the city. "i am jeonghan, the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius."
"ah, the knights," you smiled briefly, before letting your eyes wander as you thought, crossing your arms over the bar. "i don't see much of a cavalry in the city, though."
he let out an amused exhale. "so i have a bit more free time these days."
"i'm sure the acting grand master is jealous of all your free time," you teased. "poor guy, looks like he's staving off a panic attack every time i see him. you should probably help him more."
"so," he sighed, leaning against the bar again. "you know of the acting grand master but not me?"
"jihoon?" you asked. "of course i know of him. he's all anyone ever talks about around here."
jeonghan nodded once, thanking rubin when he placed two drinks before you. "people talk about me, also, you know."
your lips stuck out in a pout. "jeonghan, you said? doesn't ring a bell."
he rolled his eyes and picked up his drink, holding it out for you to cheers against. you giggled, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. the golden liquid was sweet, but not like the dandelion wine you had grown to love in this region. it had more depth, a subtle bitterness to it, and a refreshing bubble. you stared after the glass when it left your lips, then looked over to find jeonghan grinning at you.
"i see why it's your usual," you said, taking another sip before placing the glass on the bar. "i could drink too many."
"will you?" he asked.
"not tonight," you replied coolly. "i haven't asked sana to put me up at the guild yet, and if i get there too late, i'll get a cot instead of a bed. unless rubin finally wants to come clean about something?"
the bartender laughed. "how many times do i have to tell you? we don't even have rooms to board."
you squinted at him. "i know there's something upstairs. i'll learn your secrets one day, rube."
"i wouldn't be a very good bartender if i didn't know how to keep them."
"so you're in the guild?" jeonghan asked as rubin attended to another patron. "an adventuring wanderer."
you smiled vaguely at him. "i am. i have to pay for my travels somehow."
he shrugged. "there's other ways to make money. probably more profitable, too."
you eyed his teasing smirk. "i'm not sure i know what you're implying."
"as a captain of the knights of favonius, i assure you, i'm implying nothing at all," he said, exhaling sharply and adjusting on his stool. he leaned over towards you before speaking in a quieter tone. "but as jeonghan, i think you know exactly what i'm implying."
you only laughed, recognizing the thinly veiled attempt to worm a secret out of you. "i outgrew those means a long time ago. besides, when mora gets tight, i can always board up with my mother. i like liyue enough."
jeonghan studied you as you drank again. "liyue's home, is it?'
"for her, yes," you said, looking over to him, but you found yourself looking away again when his steely blue gaze met yours. you thought carefully about how much of yourself you were willing to reveal to this stranger, especially considering how important he was in the rule of the city. "she was a wanderer, too, and ended up falling in love with liyue harbor."
jeonghan made note of the way your face softened as you spoke about your mother. "and what about you?"
you met his intent look again, thinking about how his covered eye somehow made him even more intimidating. perhaps that was its purpose. "what about me?"
"what have you fallen in love with?"
a smile crept onto your lips as you processed his question. "oh, archons, what have i not fallen in love with? the smell of the open ocean in inazuma, the breathtaking temples in sumeru - have you ever been to waterfall city?"
jeonghan merely shook his head at you, the corners of his mouth turning upwards as he put his cheek on a fist again, leaning against the bar. "beautiful?"
you exhaled, eyes wide as you thought of the towering falls and the light mist that covered the city, trying to come up with an apt description. "humbling. there's nothing like it."
he watched your expression, head tilting further. "what a wonderful way to describe a place. tell me more."
your gaze went to him, then away briefly, feeling suddenly shy as you noticed his look. "about waterfall city?"
he shrugged a fur covered shoulder, shaking his head lightly. "about anywhere. describe your world, wanderer. i'd like to hear whatever you have to say."
you wondered if the heat that ran through you was because of the alcohol or the man, but you just took another drink and cleared your throat lightly, thinking of more places you had discovered in your travels. you thought of qingce village, one of your favorite places to visit, because the people are kind and welcoming and the fields are so beautiful. you told him about a tea shop owned by an old man - he insisted you call him pops so fiercely that you weren't even sure you had caught his given name - and it was probably the most relaxing cup of tea you ever had.
"it's been a while since i've gone," you sighed. "i think i'm overdue for a chat with pops and his tea."
jeonghan was smiling when you looked at him again. "the tea in liyue is unmatched," he said, reaching for his drink. before taking another sip, he gestured for you to continue.
so you did. you told him about sakura pond, about celestia city, about the volcanic black beaches. you told him liyue had your favorite people, but inazuma had your favorite food. he clicked his tongue at you.
"what about mondstadt? do we have one of your favorites?"
you smiled, genuinely. "sunsets. the night sky is different here than it is anywhere else. i think mondstadt is the closest we can get to the stars without joining the archons."
jeonghan studied you briefly, his blue eye flicking over your face as you finished your drink. "i think that's an apt observation. it seems your eyes are always wide."
"i travel for the views," you exhaled. "i don't plan on missing any."
he thought a second. "have you been to starsnatch cliff?"
your eyes lit up. "not in years," you said, in complete shock that you could have forgotten such a place. you pushed from the bar slightly, turning towards him, and he noticed the flash of a red gem strapped to your right thigh for the first time. "my mother took me there when i was a kid, but i haven't gone since."
"it never gets old," he said, sipping at the end of his drink. "i've yet to see that view and not be in awe."
"i'll go before i leave mondstadt again," you decided.
he looked to you. "when will that be?"
you sighed. "not sure, yet."
he just chuckled. "would you like another drink?"
"oh, no," you said, standing and stretching your spine. "i should make my leave. i don't like sleeping on cots. i just came by to let my ol' pal rube know i was in town again."
jeonghan watched you pull your pack onto your back, grabbing the handle of your sheathed claymore from where it was leaning against the wall next to the bar. "perhaps i'll see you again tomorrow?"
you looked at him, a vague smile on your lips as you strapped your sword back on. "perhaps you will, captain."
"jeonghan," he corrected. "but i don't believe you ever shared your name?"
"that was by design, captain," you said, and he swore he caught a glint in your eye as you bid rubin a farewell and stepped out of the angel's share.
jeonghan spun back around on his stool, immediately looking to rubin. "do you know their name?"
"no, sir," he said, looking at the closed door. "they've never said."
jeonghan's gaze went to the empty glass you had left behind, thinking about your stories, your sword, and the signifier of your vision on your thigh. "fascinating."
you got lucky - sana had a private room for you, and said you were welcome to rent it for your stay. she said not many people were travelling to mondstadt these days, and that more often than not, the adventurer's barracks in headquarters went unused. ever since the fatui had holed up in the grand goth hotel, it had been harder for you to make extended stays in mondstadt, but it seemed that something was telling you to stick around longer than usual. you laid on the hard mattress - a feeling that was more comforting than most, thanks to your continuous travels - and thought of the charming captain that had made a night of questioning you. you wondered if he really had any interest in anything you had to say, or if he had been hoping for details about something pertinent to an investigation.
you packed a lighter bag in the morning, only bringing along the essentials as you set out for your commissions for the day. that afternoon, you wandered around mondstadt and asked questions. questions about the simultaneously well-discussed and mysterious cavalry captain that had listened to your tales of travel, and answers came easier than expected, though they didn't contain all the details you were looking for. that night, you waited up at the angel's share to brag about your newfound knowledge to the captain that never showed, and you did your best to not let that hurt your ego.
the next day, you made a detour on your way back to the city after completing your commissions, stopping by springvale to enjoy a well deserved lunch and catch up with some locals. you sat in the grass with a skewer of grilled meat, watching the windmills of mondstadt steadily spin in the distance as time passed, thinking about how rubin had asked you if you didn't like it here.
you did, you decided. mondstadt felt different than anywhere else you had been. untouched, almost. wilder. freer. despite being born in inazuma, your first memories being in celestia, or your mother being in liyue, mondstadt felt comfortable. felt like a home. you wondered to yourself what that might mean.
sana greeted you happily when you returned much later than you normally did. she told you to go ahead to the guild and come back, filing away your reports and retrieving your rewards. you dropped off your things in your rented room, quickly, practically galloping back down the steps towards the entrance of the city to continue your conversation with the adventurer guilds' mighty receptionist without your sword weighing you down. you crossed your arms on the counter, comfortably lounging as you chatted with her, having always enjoyed her conversations more than most. like rubin, she was a reason mondstadt always felt comfortable.
"fancy meeting you here," an all too familiar voice said, and you pulled your eyes from sana to find jeonghan leaning his side against the counter next to you.
"good evening, cavalry captain!" sana chirped, placing your reward - your room free already removed - on the counter and bowing politely. "can i help you with anything today?"
his icy gaze flickered from your lightly curved lips towards sana. "oh, no, my dear. i'm just coming back from an investigation near springvale"
"interesting," you said, eyeing him. "i was just there and didn't see you."
"i wouldn't be very good at my job if you did, wanderer," he grinned. "knight business, you wouldn't understand. got the assignment yesterday."
"ah," you shifted to your side to face him, making him eye the vision on your thigh. "is that why you never showed? rubin was worried."
he looked you up and down. "rubin was, huh?"
you rolled your eyes and adjusted your posture to face away from his smirk. sana looked between the two of you twice before clearing her throat as quietly as possible, making jeonghan let out a chuckle before he directed his attention to the guild's receptionist.
"how goes holding the post, sana?"
she looked almost frightened when the attention was directed back to her. "good, captain! in fact, one of our most capable adventurers-" she gestured to you, "-just returned from taking care of some of our more difficult commissions - no one else would take them."
jeonghan looked at you. "why did sana have to tell your secret?"
your eyebrows quirked upwards. "what secret?"
"that you're good at this. shouldn't you be bragging?"
a chuckle spilled from your lips, and jeonghan watched you as you looked away. "i'm not the bragging type."
he studied you a moment. "what type are you, then?"
you considered the question, wondering exactly how to answer. what type were you? if not a teller, than surely you must be a shower, but that didn't seem right either. you exhaled. "the quiet type. see you later, sana."
he laughed, pushing off the counter as you tucked your mora into your waist bag, wishing sana a good evening and following you towards the fountain. "you sure talk a lot for being the quiet type."
a smirk landed itself on your lips as he fell into step beside you. "maybe private is a better description."
"that one i can see," jeonghan said, looking over to you. he thought of how you had spent nearly an hour telling him about the best views in teyvat, yet he still didn't know the most basic information about you. "do you share your name with anyone?"
you thought. "my mother."
he scoffed. "anyone else?"
you looked to the sky. "rubin."
"wrong," he retorted. "he doesn't know your name, either."
you laughed, looking over to him as you came up to the fountain, spinning and sitting back on the ledge. "you asked?"
"of course i asked," he said, planting one foot on the ledge beside you and placing his arms on his knee. "i asked other people, too. almost everyone knows you, but they don't know anything about you. bits and pieces, but never the full picture."
you just smiled up at him from your relaxed posture on the concrete. "what's wrong with a little intrigue?"
he just smiled back at you. "nothing. i tend to keep a bit myself. did you know there's a large number of people in this city that were shocked when i said you wield a claymore?"
you hummed, dipping the tips of your fingers into the fountain. "did you know there's a large number of people in this city that consider you the most eligible bachelor in not only mondstadt, but in all of teyvat?"
his lips parted slightly as you spoke. "so you snooped, too."
"i was bored yesterday. it wasn't hard," you exhaled. you flicked a drop of water towards his foot. "jeonghan yoon, the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius since he was only nineteen. who loves wine and whose adopted brother runs the biggest winery in teyvat, yet they're hardly ever seen speaking. who comes from a far off land on a different continent, but has come to love mondstadt like it was his home. who wears an eyepatch but has never told anyone why."
he chuckled at the assessment and pulled his foot off the ledge to sit beside you. "so when do i get to learn about you?"
"i told you about me yesterday," you said.
"you told me about teyvat," he corrected. "and while i was able to infer some things about your character, i still know close to nothing about you."
you thought for a moment, realizing no one had ever noticed how little you truly shared despite always being willing to tell stories. "sometimes it feels like i am teyvat. it's hard to think of things that are just about me."
"you could start with that vision," he said, nodding at the strap across your thigh. you looked down at it, exhaling.
"what's there to tell? you know what it means, and that's more teyvat than me, too."
he leaned back on a hand, looking you up and down in curiosity. "how old were you."
you chewed your cheek. "fourteen. you?"
his lip quirked upwards. "sixteen."
you bumped his shoulder with yours playfully. "beat you."
he laughed. "how'd it happen?"
you paused. "you go first."
he just chuckled and looked away, watching a dog wander past the general store. "another day, then."
"no fun," you sighed, brushing your hands together as you leaned forward. "what about the eyepatch?"
he met your eyes, mouth slanted in a smirk. "another day."
you clicked your tongue. "if you wanna learn about me, you have to be willing to give up some details, too. i value a fair trade."
"then stop asking questions that you know i won't share the answer to." jeonghan noticed the color of the sky, then suddenly pulled a pocket watch out, checking it quickly to confirm that there was enough time and stood. "come with me?"
you stared up at him. "where?"
he grinned, extending a hand to help you to your feet. "you said mondstadt's sunsets were your favorite, correct?"
you generally weren't prone to following mysterious men into back corridors, but jeonghan easily convinced you with no words at all that sneaking around the sight line of the acting grand master was completely normal behavior, sushing you with a grin as you giggled, taking refuge around a corner after the two of you made it up to the second floor of the favonius headquarters. he tugged your hand with his, pulling you into a steep maintenance staircase behind a door.
"this feels like it's against some rules," you said, climbing the stairs behind him.
"nonsense," he said, looking back at you and grinning. "are you suggesting that a knight of favonius would break rules just to impress a mysterious traveler?"
you laughed quietly, wondering if he really meant that he wanted to impress you. "not most, but maybe this one."
he only thought for a split second. "if anyone asks, we're on official knight business."
he opened the door and you found the sky again, beginning to glow orange as the edge of the sun began to hide behind the cliffs. you stared in awe at the way the few fluffy clouds reflected pink and gold, then readjusted your focus when jeonghan spoke again.
"i hope you aren't afraid of heights," he said, walking over to the parapets that surrounded you. "the best view requires a bit of a climb."
you looked up at the tower, and while it wasn't much higher than where you stood, you also recognized that you were well above most of mondstadt already. "you climb up there?"
he paused, studying you. "we don't have to, we can just sit on a merlon-"
"no, we can climb," you said, walking over to where he was and eyeing the small gap between the parapet and the adjacent roof. "hop over?"
he laughed, stepping over the gap and holding a hand out for you. "watch your step."
and though you didn't need it, you accepted the hand anyways, and it stayed on yours as you walked over the roof to the tower, as if making sure you didn't misstep several stories in the air.
"would you like to go first?" he asked. "i'll catch you if you fall."
you rolled your eyes at him, dropping your hand from his grip. "you go first. i want to see where the handholds are."
he just grinned at you. "very well," he said, tugging on the wrists of his fingerless gloves to make sure they were taught against his skin before taking hold of a brick. you watched him as he took foothold after foothold, and he resisted the urge to show off by speedily scaling the wall in favor of making sure you had the chance to see where he gripped. when he reached the opening in the tower, he pulled himself up and spun around, exhaling with a grin as he seated himself at the ledge with his legs dangling above you.
"your turn."
you adjusted your waist bag as you sighed in amused annoyance, spinning it to be behind you and out of your hips' way to climb the wall. it wasn't much - a couple meters, maybe - and you had definitely climbed further, but jeonghan's presence made you slightly nervous. that nervousness, however, just fueled you to prove yourself.
you scaled the wall easily, making jeonghan whistle and jokingly call you some kind of adventurer, and your only hesitation came when his hand was in your face. despite your initial inclination to ignore it, you put your left hand in his, allowing him to help you pull yourself up on the ledge and sit beside him.
"impressive," he commented.
you laughed, brushing off your hands. "you, too."
"c'mon," he said, gesturing his head over his shoulder before making moves to stand. "the view's on the other side."
you sighed, looking over the view of mondstadt shrouded in golden light as he stood and walked to the other ledge. "never a moment of rest with you."
"if you want to miss the sunset, be my guest."
you leaned back on your hands and laughed, pulling your gaze away from the city to look at where jeonghan had seated himself on the other end of the tower, and subsequently the view of the rolling hills beyond him that were glowing golden in the evening sun. you blinked for a second, realizing you hadn't seen the sunset the night before, and quickly got to your feet to join him before you missed this one, too.
he gave you a soft smile when you sat beside him, and you briefly wondered how many he had in his repertoire. the wind was stronger higher, whipping gently through his hair and alleviating any uncomfortable warmth you may have had from exerting yourself on the way up. you watched the dregs of sunlight skip across the grassy hills and the sky turn deep orange and bright pink, feet swinging lightly over the edge of the tower.
"i was fighting with my brother," he said suddenly, causing you to look at him with a start before you realized he was telling you about his vision. there was a slight smile on his face as he looked out on the fields. "hyungwon. it was bad. he already had his - he's a pyro, like you - and we were both young and stupid and just lost our dad. we were sword fighting and it came to me when i needed it. it probably saved my life, honestly."
you blinked at him. "you think he would have killed you?'
he exhaled, leaning back on his hands. "i think if the roles had been reversed, i would have tried to kill him, too. i'm grateful it didn't go that way, though." he coughed abruptly, clearing his throat. "we're on speaking terms, and i do love him as a brother, but i generally avoid him."
you let that thought ruminate as you watched the sun sink, halfway beyond the horizon. "my father was in a gang in inazuma, but my mom ran away when she found out she was pregnant. didn't want to raise a kid in that world, i guess? we ran into him when i got older and he wasn't very understanding." you paused, remembering the detail too well. "they were going to take her vision. that's what they did to traitors. probably take me, too. they weren't expecting me to start setting fires."
jeonghan's gaze was on you as yours was on the horizon. "just a couple of survivors."
you looked over at him, a smirk on your lips. "a couple?"
he laughed waving at your implication, thinking he would have said the same thing in an attempt to fluster you just as you were to him. "like, more than one and less than four."
you only laughed back. "fortune favors the weak, i suppose. the archons saw we needed help and extended a fig branch."
"is that what it was?" he asked, a laugh on his lips. "we were both fighting people. that's hardly an offer of peace."
"look for the deeper meaning, jeonghan. we were fighting for our lives," you pointed out, and he realized it was the first time you had addressed him by his name rather than his title. "i was fighting for family. for freedom. is that not the greatest pursuit of peace?"
he watched you as you pulled your knees to your chest, putting your feet on the edge of the stonework surface you sat on. he studied the way the golden rays lit your skin and made your eyes sparkle. "i suppose so."
you paused in that moment for a long while, and jeonghan allowed the comfortable silence as the two of you watched the sun disappear beyond the cliffs of mondstadt. the sky was turning a deep shade of purple when you told him your name, and jeonghan thought that it was quite possibly the best news he had ever received, but he kept that joy to himself as he confirmed your name, and you rolled your eyes.
"are you gonna answer my other question now?"
he scoffed. "about the eyepatch? is it really that interesting?"
"not any more interesting than my name," you retorted.
"completely untrue," jeonghan insisted. "i've never been so excited to be told a secret, and i get told a lot of secrets."
you eyed his smile warily. "my name may be unknown, but it's no secret."
he sighed and shook his head lightly. "you really wanna know the reason i wear it? it's probably not as dramatic as you're hoping."
"yet you hide it?"
he laughed. "what's wrong with a little intrigue?"
you looked away, recognizing the parrot of your own words. "whatever you say, captain."
"no!" he whined and grabbed your arm, making you start and look at him with big eyes. "you just started calling me jeonghan, don't go back to captain."
you stared at him, only breaking to laugh, dropping your legs over the edge again. "you won't show me what's under the eyepatch, so i thought we weren't on first name basis."
his hand on your bicep was warm and gentle, but his gaze was piercing as he thought it over for a bit longer. you did your best to hold it, but you felt yourself shrinking when he quietly muttered, "go on, then."
it took you a second to register what he meant, and you reached out slowly, fingers hesitating before they brushed upon his cheekbone. jeonghan closed his eyes, resigning to your touch as you gently lifted the eyepatch. his eyes opened again, slowly, and you thought your heart might have skipped a beat.
"like chocolate," you commented, and a smile spread across his lips.
"that's the kindest reaction i've gotten."
your fingers fell upon his temple, brushing down gently as you inspected his singular brown eye. "since birth?"
he nodded, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly before he spoke. "heterochromia. it's a characteristic of my family."
you studied his face. "not the one here?"
he sighed. "not the one here."
the icy blue of jeonghan's eye had always struck something in you. it made him mysterious. commanding. it felt like he saw more than you despite having one eye covered. but now, you felt warm. you felt his gentleness. there was comfort hidden away behind that black patch, and you told him that you understood why the cavalry captain had chosen to hide the eye he did.
but to you, he was willing to show anything that would keep you around longer, he said.
"why me?" you asked, studying his expression when he looked away. the sun had retreated behind the hills, leaving the sky a deep blue.
jeonghan didn't respond right away, and you wondered if he himself even knew the answer. "we're birds of a feather, you and i."
you looked out to the view again, watching the subtle movements of the wild hills. "did you travel much before you came here?"
"it was all i knew," he told you. "i was thirteen when my father left me here."
your neck snapped, your eyes on his profile when he leaned back on his hands. "left you?"
he almost laughed, a smile on his lips when his eyes met yours. "i was slowing him down, i suppose. hyungwon's father found me and took me in."
"so you stayed?"
"i didn't always want to," he assured you. "i had the itch to leave for years. as soon as i was able, i always told myself." he paused, eyes dropping. "then father died. then hyungwon turned down his position with the knights. and i was their second choice."
you pursed your lips. "you stayed for a job."
he laughed. "it's not that simple."
you smiled at him, enjoying the warmth of his eyes on yours as the sky cooled. "are you sure we're birds of a feather?"
"listen," he said, getting off his hands and brushing them off on his thighs. "i accepted the job so that i could set the story straight. i didn't want to run from the people that believed that hyungwon tried to kill me to avenge our father."
you studied him. "i'm sorry."
"don't be," he said, nudging your shoulder. "i was still planning on leaving, but then i fell in love."
you looked away, trying to sort out the way your stomach flipped. "are they still around?"
"not with a person," he laughed, then nodded towards the now dark hills. "with the views. besides, i get free reign whenever i leave for missions. i have fun adventuring, and come home to the best sunsets in teyvat. there are worse places to call home."
your eyes scanned the horizon, remembering the brilliant rays of sun you had just seen skip across it. "that is tempting."
"how tempting?" he asked.
you thought on that for a moment. "almost as much as a death after noon right now."
jeonghan laughed, slightly proud that he had hooked you on his favorite drink. "shall we go see rubin, then?"
you hummed, smiling at the captain. "as long as i don't have to sit alone again."
"that's a promise," he told you as he stood, holding out a hand that you took without hesitation, though he withheld his intention to make sure you were never alone again.
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takahero · 3 years
Text
some descriptions of Basta in Inkheart if you’re interested!! spoiler warning just to be on the safe side, in case u haven’t read it. and my unsolicited commentary here and there
“‘Naturally I recognised them at once. Capricorn had sent his best men. Even Basta was with them.’” — pg.99
“Rasping cat’s-tongue voice” pg.125
“(Basta’s face) was thin, sharply angular, with close-set eyes…Basta was not a tall man, and his shoulders were almost as narrow as a boy’s, but Meggie held her breath when he took a step towards her…He had an aura of fury about him, or something keen and biting—” pg.126
“Only Basta wore a snow-white shirt, just as Dustfinger had said, with a red flower in the buttonhole of his jacket, a red flower like a warning.” pg.131
“He caught her eye, and with a twisted smile kissed the blade of his knife.” — pg.173 (I JUST HAD TO ADD THIS)
“‘Oh, Basta can’t write,’ replied Capricorn calmly. ‘None of my men can either read or write. I’ve forbidden them to learn.’” — pg.176 (literacy rights for Basta 2k21)
“She could see the trepidation even on Basta’s face, although he was doing his best to hide it by assuming a particularly bored expression.” — pg.185
“‘Abduction!’ Basta savoured the word. ‘Sounds good to me. Really good.’” — pg.192 (ok but if u read it a certain way. unofficial evidence that basta would enjoy reading if he could LMAO)
“‘Where’s our luggage?’ she asked.
“Dustfinger looked at her with amusement. ‘I expect Basta’s divided it out among Capricorn’s maids. He likes to ingratiate himself with them.’” — pg.213 LMAOOOOOOO OH MY GOD
“Basta was still standing in the road. His face was sharply outlined when he lit a cigarette with a lighter.” — pg.215
“And he bent down to cut through the leather thong that Basta wore around his neck. It had a little bag tied with a red drawstring hanging from it.” — pg. 231
“‘Ah, Basta!’ Fenoglio smiled. Each of his separate wrinkles expressed self-satisfaction. ‘One of the best villains I ever thought up. A rabid dog, but not half as bad as my other dark hero, Capricorn. Basta would let his heart be torn out for Capricorn, but his master is a stranger to such loyalty.’” — pg.264
“‘You know, if you were to ask me which of those two I was prouder of, Basta or Capricorn, I couldn’t tell you! Even though some critics said they were just too nasty!’” — pg.265
“Basta emphasised the word, putting his foxy face so close to Meggie’s she could see herself reflected in his eyes.” — pg.301
“‘You’ll do no such thing!’ he spat at Flatnose, as the grey cat disappeared under the wardrobe. ‘Killing cats is unlucky. How often do I have to tell you?’” — pg.303 (friendly reminder that the last time he appeared, he kicked a dog in the ribs 😐)
“Basta was walking just behind her, and she heard him quietly cursing the rain.” — pg.304 (irrelevant but i kind of hc basta to like the rain, since it would dampen dustfinger’s showbiz LMAO)
“Basta’s eyes always narrowed when he smiled.” — pg.305
“‘You wear long sleeves,’ Fenoglio continued very slowly, as if giving Basta time to take in every single word, ‘because your master likes playing with fire. You burned both arms right up to the shoulders when you obeyed his orders and set fire to the house of a man who had dared to refuse his daughter to Capricorn. Ever since then, someone else has laid the fire, and you confine yourself to playing games with knives.’” — pg.308
“‘Oh, I know all about you, Basta,’ he said. ‘I know you’d give your life for Capricorn any day, and you’re always hungry for his praise. I know you were younger than Meggie when his men picked you up, and ever since you’ve loved him like a father. But shall I tell you something? Capricorn thinks you’re stupid, and despises you for it. He despises you all, his devoted black-clad sons, although it’s his own doing that you’re still so ignorant. And he wouldn’t hesitate to set the police on to any one of you if it was to his advantage. Are you quite clear about that?’” — pg.308 (FENOGLIO…..RUTHLESS)
“Basta winked at Meggie.” — pg.310 (wink 1)
“Every cruel deed with which he had ever credited Basta was probably going through his head. Basta relished the fear on his face for a few delicious minutes.” — pg.312
“Basta’s car had not been in the car park at all since they’d come here. It was unusual for it to be gone so long, because Basta didn’t like to be away from the village for any length of time.” — pg.318 basta is a homebody guys
“‘Save your tongue for later, scribbler!” Basta interrupted. ‘I don’t like whispering.’” — pg.324
“Almost all the women in the village kept away from Basta, but he didn’t keep away from them.” — pg.337
“‘Take him, for instance,’ he said, pointing to Basta. ‘I always knew he was a very unhappy boy before you picked him up. As it says in another very fine book, it’s terribly easy to persuade children that they are worthless. Basta was convinced of it. Not that you taught him any better, oh no! Why would you? But suddenly here was someone to whom he could devote himself, someone who told him what to do — he’d found a god, Capricorn, and if you treated him badly, well, who says that all gods are kindly? Most of them are stern and cruel, wouldn’t you agree? I didn’t write all this in the book. I knew it, that was enough.’” — pg.345 (this is really the part that made my stance toward basta change. like PHEW. that’s a lot to unpack)
“Basta was notorious for his silent tread.” — pg.363
“Basta’s breath smelled of mint, fresh and sharp. Apparently a girl he’d once wanted to kiss had told him he had bad breath. The girl had regretted it, but ever since then Basta chewed peppermint leaves from morning to night.” — pg.364
“He whistled softly through his teeth, then held the book close to Meggie’s face.”— pg.374 (i was rendered speechless)
“Basta’s lips quivered with annoyance, but he bit back his reply and, without a word, put his hand under the black cloth.” — pg.377 (ugh I loved this. like we know he worships capricorn like a dog, but earlier fenoglio flat out told him capricorn couldn’t care less about what happened to him. more than that, capricorn asked basta to bring meggie and fenoglio — prisoners — into his home. later dustfinger says that basta would’ve slept on the threshold of capricorn’s room if he could but none of the men sleep there. so with all of this fresh in his mind, you can imagine him feeling quite hurt and betrayed. UGH I wish he had a greater arc surrounding capricorn…like even if we saw a few hints that his loyalty was starting to show cracks…idk what his arc is in inkspell so maybe I’ll sit tight for that)
“He was in a hurry to get back to the light of day, away from the dead and their ghosts. His hand shook as he hung his lantern on a book and opened the grating over the first cell.” — pg.409
“Dustfinger was always surprised to find how easily you could scare the man with a few words.” — pg.409 LMAOOOOO
“‘That notion of burning us isn’t a very new idea, Basta, but then you were never fond of new ideas.’” — pg.422
“His teeth were almost as white as his shirt.” — pg.442
“Meggie saw from his face that everything in him felt revulsion, but he came closer and took the creature. He held the scaly body well away from him as it wound and twisted in the air.
“‘As you see, Basta doesn’t care for my snakes!’ said the Magpie, with a smile. ‘He never did, not that that means much. As far as I know Basta doesn’t like anything but his knife. He also believed that snakes bring bad luck, which of course is pure nonsense.’ Mortola handed Basta the second snake. Meggie saw the viper’s tiny poison fangs when it opened its mouth. For a moment, she almost felt sorry for Basta.” — pg.446
“‘Basta likes to use snakes to scare women who reject his advances. It didn’t work with Resa. How did it go exactly — didn’t she finally put the snake outside your door, Basta?’” — pg.446 (10/10 resa & snake well-deserved)
“Basta did not want neighbours. Indeed, he wanted no other company but Capricorn’s. Dustfinger knew Basta would have slept on the threshold of Capricorn’s room if he had been allowed to, but none of the men lived in the main house.” — pg.478
“Basta was probably the only man in Capricorn’s village who locked his front door.” — pg.480
“They said in the village that whenever Capricorn had a house set on fire Basta took away a brick or stone, even though he feared fire at other times, and clearly that story was true.” — pg.480
“(Everything in Basta’s house was scrubbed clean, as spotless as his snow-white shirt.)” — pg.481
“Once or twice, footsteps approached, but each time they passed by the house. What a good thing Basta had no friends.” — pg.482
“Basta was not in a good way. Whenever they looked at him they saw his hands clinging to the bars, knuckles white under his sun-tanned skin.” — pg.503 (BASTA’S SUNTANNED?!?!)
“Basta in particular was the object of enough scorn and derision for ten men, and from his failure to react at all one could only guess at the depths of his despair.” — pg.503
“For the fraction of a second life came back into Basta as his former lord and master stopped by the bars; he raised his head, his eyes pleading silently, like a dog begging for forgiveness…Basta only bowed his head and stared at the floor. Elinor thought he looked like an oyster with the flesh and life sucked out of it.” — pg.504 (i honestly still can’t wrap my head around his behaviour in this chap. i mean yes, the gladiator-style death sentence looming over his head can’t be understated. but i think for me it was how rapidly his spirits deteriorated from screaming for help in the cell to becoming a husk of a man before he even saw capricorn again? how?? was it all because of dustfinger spooking him so bad in the crypt?? 🤔🤔)
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bokunosimpfiction · 3 years
Text
Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3
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A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ
Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)
Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire​  so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)
             You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.
             Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.
             Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.
             And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.
             The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.
             The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.
             Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”
             You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).
             Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.
             And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.
             You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.
             This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.
             She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.
             The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.
             Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.
             “Karl.”
             “Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.
             “Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”
             He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.
             Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!
             “You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.
             “Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”
             “You sure about that?” You quip back.
             “You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”
             “Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”
             “It’s Karl Heisenberg!”
             “Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.
             He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.
             He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”
             “No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.
             “You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”
             You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.
             He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”
             You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.
             “Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“
             You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.
             “Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”
             “Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”
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ackerslut · 3 years
Text
of all i am made of (perhaps you are too)
ao3
Hugo does not believe in soulmates.
To be fair, he doesn’t much believe in anything but the feeling of coin in his pocket and the clever bite of his dagger. What use has he for god and destiny when he carves his own path of lies through time, with a sharp tongue and a cocky smile.
Why should Hugo believe the universe would gift him a soulmate when it already has made it perfectly clear that nothing is free?
Besides soulmates are rarities of the past--legends and folktales on the lips of elders and religious fanatics; the former clinging to superstition from the od era, the latter feeding false promises and hope to the instupid masses.
Soulmates are for hopeless romantics and tiny children. Not for Hugo.
“That does not surprise me,” Nuru says, the beginnings of a smile forming on her face.
She’s lying down in the golden field where they’ve set camp for the night. The contrast of the bright yellow against her dark skin is stunning-particularly in the moonlight, with her dark hair fanning out about her head.
Hugo, who is sitting upright a few paces away and playing with his daggers, frowns.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, unsure if he should be feeling defensive or not.
Nuru folds her arms beneath her head, propping herself up enough to make eye contact with him. “Even if you had a soulmate, you wouldn’t know what to do with them,” she scoffs.
He snorts. “ You believe in soulmates?”
“Is that so surprising?”
“Yes, actually. I thought you were the rational one in this party.”
Nuru gives him an expression that indicates how stupid she thinks he is. “I might be the only person who can keep their head in a crisis, but that doesn’t mean I can’t believe in a higher power, Hugo.”
She rolls over, so that she’s laying on her stomach, facing him. “Burning stars fall in my homeland every year. There are stories of a sun princess who’s tears heal the dead. Varian somehow hasn’t strangled you yet. I think you’d better start believing in a god.”
“Or soulmates apparently,” Hugo mutters.
“Or soulmates,” Nuru says. “Would it really be that far-fetched?”
“Do I believe there’s someone out there who shares my dreams? Or has my name written above their heart? Hard pass, Princess.”
“Alright then, how about sharing the same soul?” Nuru asks, folding her hands together and resting her chin on them. “You’re telling me that doesn’t sound at least a little romantic?”
“I don’t have a soul.”
“Now that,” she says, a grin stretching across her face, “that I can believe.”
___
“I think Anya’s my soulmate,” Yong says dreamily, staring at Varian’s redheaded cousin like she hung the fucking moon.
Hugo, despite secretly adoring the round child, rolls his eyes. Hard. “Do you even know what that means?”
“It means we share the same time threads,” Yong replies distractedly.
Varian and Anya are nerding out over something-something Hugo would find interesting or fun to mock them over, but right now, for some reason, he’s more interested in Yong’s adorable-if not misguided-crush on Varian’s little cousin.
“Time threads,” Hugo laughs, cracking his knuckles. Yong winces at the noise, momentarily taking his eyes off the two babbling alchemists. “Alright, color me curious. What are time threads?”
Yong frowns. “You’ve never heard of time threads? Every child in Koto learns about them.”
Ah, must be some religious poppycock only spread in the fire kingdom.
“Well, I’m not a child living in Koto, am I?” Hugo replies lightly. “Spill, little pyro.” He pokes the kid in the shoulder repeatedly until he gets swatted.
“Her lady, Odiyesi, spins a thread for each person,” Yong recites in a sing-song voice. “This thread contains the beginning, the middle, and the end of our lives. If she so chooses, two threads will be intertwined-maybe even beyond the Snip, if she wills it.”
“The Snip?”
“Oh yeah, that’s when you die,” Yong says, side eyeing Hugo.
Hugo ruffles Yong’s hair. “And you think Anya is your thread partner. That’s so cute .”
Yong ducks out from under his hand, scowling. “Why did you ask if you don’t even believe it?” he mumbles, face pink.
“You know what I think?” Hugo asks, pretending like he doesn’t hear Yong. “I think you should go right up to here and tell her all that. Give her a heads up about your eternally bound souls.”
“Your soul is eternally bound to the underworld,” Yong shoots back, with a surprising amount of fire.
Hugo bursts into laughter. “That,” he says, “is the first thing you’ve said all day that makes sense.”
___
“What do you think about soulmates?” Hugo asks mildly. He has a glass of wine in one hand, but he’s barely tasted it. Instead, he stands, staring out the stained glass window and into the courtyard.
Donella, sitting behind her desk, looks up from Varian’s Ulla’s journal-recently procured by Hugo.
The amount of deception and sneaking around he’d gone through to actually get it out of Varian’s line of sight had been painstakingly difficult. And it had been even harder coming up with an excuse to Nuru why he needed to spend the night somewhere other than their current lodgings.
He doesn’t really remember the lie. Just the trust in the Princess’s face when she’d briefly patted him on the shoulder, telling him to be back by sunrise.
Donella closes the journal with a snap, leaning back in her chair. “What a curious question. And from you, no less.”
When Hugo turns around, she’s smiling that sharp smile-the one that makes his stomach plummet with discomfort. Something in him churns at that dangerous expression now, unsure of what he’s suddenly gotten himself into.
He gives a casual shrug, raising his glass to his lips. “Just making idle conversation, I suppose.” The wine tastes terrible. Still, he takes another sip before setting it down on an end table.
“Hmm.” His mentor eyes him skeptically. “What do I think about soulmates?” she muses, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I suppose the proper answer would be that I hate them.”
He frowns. “So you don’t believe in them?”
“You can’t hate something you don’t believe in, Hugo. Of course I believe in soulmates.” Donella must see the surprise in his expression because she laughs after a brief pause. “I would be hard pressed not to believe in them after seeing it with my own two eyes.”
Hugo blinks, startled. “You met someone with a soulmate?” he asks, disbelieving.
“You could say that.”
“How do-how did you know they were-”
She opens the stolen journal again, long scared fingers deftly flipping back to her reading place. “Because I could feel when she was in pain. Now shut up, Waif, I still have three quarters of this tedious reading to get through and only five more hours to do it.”
___
Even though Eugene has decided to make the conscious effort not to kill Hugo, the guy still shows mild animosity. And by mild, Hugo-of course-means that he drags him around, making him do tedious tasks and scowls whenever he gets close to Varian.
Whatever. It’s not as if Hugo’s going to complain, considering that it’s mostly his fault there was a demon monster briefly unleashed onto Corona that destroyed most of her capital city. As long as Varian isn’t blaming himself, Hugo calls it a win.
So he lets the Prince Consort drag him around the city and put his alchemy to work.
“You don’t have to stay,” Hugo says, at one point, when it becomes apparent that even though Eugene has no idea how alchemy works , he was still going to hover. “I’m not going to cut and run.”
The man had snorted. “Yeah, I already figured that one out for myself,” he’d muttered and then proceeded to not explain what that meant.
So here Hugo is, with an ever present shadow, hovering like he’s a fucking five year old. Hugo honestly doesn’t see what Varian sees in the guy-or Queen Rapunzel for that matter. She looks at the ex-thief like he hung the moon and all the damn stars in the sky.
“It’s because they’re soulmates,” Eugene’s buddy-Lance, Hugo thinks-had said when he caught him staring.
Hugo had scoffed.
Now, bored and overheated after a long day’s work, Hugo watches Eugene frown over some blueprints in the Queen’s study. Hugo’s not exactly sure why he has to be present for this particular part of the renovation project, but he’s too tired to protest.
“Are you and the queen soulmates?” he hears himself asking.
Eugene lifts his head, eyes alight with surprise. He glances back down at the blueprints once, before leaving the table to join Hugo by the open doors leading to the balcony.
“Weird question, coming from you,” he snorts, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. “But yes. We are.”
Hugo doesn’t know what to make of that. “How do you know?”
The older man hesitates, something like understanding dawning on the man’s face. A small smile crosses lips. “Have you ever met someone that no matter how many times you tried to walk away, you couldn’t?”
Hugo swallows.
“That’s how I know. Now,” he claps Hugo on the shoulder. “If you’ll stop messing around, I need your opinion on whether Yong’s demolition idea or Varian’s solvent solution is going to work best for the lower district’s avalanche problem.”
___
At the end of all things-or perhaps the beginning-Hugo finds Varian on a rooftop.
It’s not hard to find him, as when Varian is brooding, he likes to perch. It’s a habit that the alchemist has either picked up from spending most of his time in a castle with high roofs or perhaps it’s born of chasing his dumb racoon into precarious positions.
Either way, Hugo learns early into his friendship with the darkhaired boy, that when he’s being introspective, he likes to pick a high roof and perch like a fucking woodland creature.
So when Varian goes missing in the middle of Corona’s lantern festival, it takes precious few minutes to find him.
“You are so predictable,” Hugo says, dropping down next to him. Heights don’t usually bother him, but the castle is impressively tall.
The other alchemist doesn’t really seem to mind, however. He lets his legs dangle over the edge, occasionally swinging in the air.
“Or maybe I wanted you to find me,” Varian replies easily. His head--tilted up, toward the stars that are mirrored in the constellations of freckles on his face-is wearing a peaceful expression.
Something in Hugo’s chest clenches tightly at the sight of it. There was a time, not too long ago, where he was convinced he’d never see Varian happy again.
But now, Varian turns his face toward Hugo and offers him a smile. “Or maybe I’m just predictable to you.”
The tightness in Hugo’s chest dissipates. What is left aches for something he can’t have.
“Or that,” Hugo says, instead of doing something stupid like trying to hold Varian’s hand or kiss the stupid expression off his face.
Varian turns back to the stars.
“You know, they say shooting stars fall in the direction of your soulmate.”
Hugo rolls his eyes. “Not you too,” he groans, eliciting laughter from his friend. “I thought out of everyone, you would be on my side here.”
“Aw, don’t believe in soulmates?” Varian teases, grinning boyishly. “Sun and moon, I should have expected that.”
“Yeah?” Hugo raises his eyebrows. “How so?”
“You’re so cynical. And not in the way Cass is-she’s like realistically -cynical. You’re just oh poor me I could never have a soulmate because my soul is made of garbage -”
Hugo clamps a hand over Varian’s mouth, shrieking when he tries to lick him. “I- stop -I don’t have to listen to this slander -”
“-and if you ever did find your soulmate you would be insufferable about it,” Varian goes on, catching Hugo’s wrist when he tries to silence him again. “You would spend the entire time trying to prove to yourself and everyone else that there was no possible way they could be your soulmate and when you couldn’t you would-”
He stops. Blinks at Hugo with realization dawning across his face.
Hugo’s wonders if Varian can feel his pulse racing where the smaller boy’s fingers wrap around his wrist.
“Yeah? What would I do?”
Varian’s lips purse. “I don’t know what you would do. I’d hope you would be smart about it.”
He lets go of Hugo.
Hugo immediately misses his warmth.
“And what would be the smart thing.”
“Well,” Varian draws out the word thoughtfully. He scoots close enough to Hugo that if the taller boy wanted he could wrap and arm around his shoulder. “Well, an excellent start would be telling them.”
“And how would you tell them? If it were you,” Hugo adds quickly, when Varian shoots him a questioning look.
Varian leans back on his hands, head tipped back, exposing his throat to the sky. “I would tell them my heart started beating at the same time as theirs when we touched. That there’s a silver dagger inked on my shoulder that burns when they’re angry and sings when they’re sad-”
“Varian.” Hugo’s heart clenches so hard he briefly wonders if he’s having a heart attack.
“-I would tell them that I dreamed in color the first night we lay side by side in the forest,” Varian goes on, ignoring him. “I would tell them that when we touch I see every color-even the ones that don’t belong here.”
“Varian.”
Hugo’s hand finds his soulmate's.
Varian turns his head to the side slightly, finally meeting Hugo’s eye. With his free hand, he cups the side of Hugo’s neck, tentatively.
“I would tell him that our souls are made of the same thing.” He smiles gently. “It’s just science, Hugo.”
Hugo laughs, pressing his forehead into Varian’s. “How is that the most romantic thing you’ve said yet?”
“Because you’re a closet nerd,” Varian says, right before he leans in.
Underneath a starlit sky, Hugo kisses the boy made of the same stuff as him.
___
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