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herb10 · 5 months

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Justin as a Dad... (Part I)

Summary: headcanon list of Justin as a new father from pregnancy to birth Pairing(s): Justin Herbert x fem!reader Warning(s): mentions of pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, mentions of sex, swearing, etc.

Disclaimer: the following written work comprises "real person fanfiction" (RPF); any characters mentioned are entirely fictional or fictionalised versions of real people. Any dialogue, circumstance, and/or any other trait of this work that bears semblance to reality is coincidence.

[masterlist]

- Justin would be so excited to hear you're pregnant

- "are you serious?" "you're joking with me, right?"

- when you hand him the pregnancy test, he just stares at it with a soft little smile

- his smile would grow until he was beaming with joy as the realisation sinks in that, no, you're not joking, you really are pregnant

- he'd wrap you in his massive arms and give you the biggest bear hug

- he'd definitely get emotional and maybe even tear up, but would try to hide it by burying his face in your hair

- his voice would be all choked up when he tells you that he's so happy and that he loves you, clearing his throat to try and compose himself

- he would be so excited to tell all of your family and friends, but would definitely wait until you were both ready to make the news known however

- he would get so emotional when telling his mum and dad that they were going to be grandparents omg

- big hugs from his parents as they congratulate both of you on the happy news

- he would be so protective of you and your baby's privacy and wellbeing

- everyone would be under strict instructions not to advertise the pregnancy unless both of you were ready to make the news public

- he'd legit be furious if the news somehow broke on social media or in some article without his or your consent

- would probably speak in code to not reveal the news to anyone outside your trusted circle

- "taking our cat to the vet" = going to the doctor's with you lmao

- would sometimes forget that you're pregnant in the very stages until something reminds him that he's going to be a dad

- seeing a baby in a stroller in the supermarket? "Oh yeah, I'm gonna be a dad". Cute baby shoes at the Nike store? "I'm gonna be a dad!"

- would feel awful for you during the morning sickness phase

- he'd get up no matter the time to comfort you, hold your hair back, get you a glass of water, or whatever else you needed in that moment

- grabbing you food at the store on his way back from the facility or getting food delivered randomly when you have a sudden craving for taco bell

- he'd understand that being pregnant isn't a disability and that you could still do things for yourself, but he'd still kinda treat you like you were made of glass lol

- "I got it" would become his catchphrase and he'd use it whenever he saw you trying to do anything that involved bending, reaching...or moving lol

- Justin: "I got it!" You: "Justin, I can get myself a glass of water just fine 😅"

- he'd be in his Acts of Service element, taking care of you as best as he could

- he'd know that pregnancy is a big change for you, so would be as patient and as understanding as possible if you were experiencing mood swings

- however...don't expect him to be a pushover and bend to every whim or allow unreasonable behaviour just bc of pregnancy-induced hormones

- Justin: "babe, I get that you're pregnant and that you're going through a lot right now, but I'm doing my best"

- he'd still expect you to be his partner and that you could face the challenges of pregnancy together

- on a more happy note, this man would have his hands all over the bump when you start to show

- tbh he'd have his hands all over you fullstop

- he'd let you know every opportunity he got how sexy he thought you were, even if you didn't feel that way about yourself

- You: "I look like a beached whale...". Justin: "You look so fucking good..."

- back hugs with his arms around you, his hands on the bump, to show you the changes to your body don't detract from your beauty, only add to it

- the pregnancy sex would be so fire omfg

- he'd be so gentle and let you command the pace until you were crying out for him to pound you and oh boy would he oblige

- probably some of the best sex you ever had tbh bc he'd be trying so fucking hard to make you feel good

- he'd love any hormonal feral horniness from you too and would be practically running home to you after practice lmfao

- would be so fucking excited when you felt the first little kick

- would probably make kicker or punter jokes about the baby

- would probably come up with cute little nicknames for the baby, like "peanut" or "shrimp"

- would sneak daddy-and-bump time in the early morning before leaving for practice whilst you were asleep

- speaking to the bump, gently laying a warm hand on your belly to feel the baby kick in response

- he'd really treasure those quiet moments where he could connect with his child before the birth

- would be proactive in preparations for the baby

- helping you buy and build furniture for the baby's nursery, no matter how tired and bruised he was from football

- he'd help you organise and make an inventory of everything you could ever possibly need

- he'd have a birthing bag packed and by the door very early on (and probably a spare in the car, y'know, just in case)

- big gender reveals aren't his thing but he'd be ok with a small gathering and a more tame reveal idea, like a cake with a coloured filling, etc.

- kinda think he'd like the surprise and wouldn't mind not knowing the gender before the baby was born

- he'd be more than happy for you to have a baby shower if it was something you wanted tho

- he'd be a bit wary of any social media attention and probably would prefer if photos of the occasion were kept off social media however...

- as long as you had both talked and agreed on if/when you would go public with the news, he'd be fine with it

- would desperately want to be at all of your scans and antenatal classes and would make as much effort as possible to be there

- he'd work late some days so he could take time off to attend "baby stuff" with you; this man would not want to miss a single milestone

- he'd especially love going to scans bc he'd get to see his child, hear their strong heartbeat, and it would all feel a bit more real to him

- this nerd would be paying so much attention in antenatal classes omfg he'd practically be a TA again

- ...being real, football would definitely factor into the birth plan; you and Justin would have to decide on a plan of action for every possible outcome

- if you were due during the season, you'd have to be prepared to be induced during a bye week or between games

- he'd also arrange for someone you trust to be with you in his absence if something happened and you went into labour when he wasn't there

- if you did go into labour whilst he was at a game, I don't think he'd leave until the game was over ngl

- but he'd be stressed as balls not to be at your side

- you can bet your ass he would be running out of the stadium the moment the game ended (still in his cleats and uniform probably) to a waiting car or a private jet on standby so he could hightail it back to you

- anxious facetiming with you the entire way home, checking to make sure you were ok

- Justin's all about being prepared so he'd plan for every situation imaginable to avoid that tho

- he would absolutely want to be there to support you and welcome your baby into the world

- he'd want to be there to rub your back, hold you up when you needed to stand or lean on something, get you hot or cold compresses...

- whatever you needed he'd want to be the one doing it for you

- during labour, he'd truly hate to see you in pain and would probably feel a little impotent

- for a man so used to being prepared and being in control, seeing you in pain and not really being able to help would absolutely cut him to his core

- the one thing he would be able to do was be the ultimate hype man when it came time to deliver your baby

- he'd speak words of encouragement to you like he was cheering on teammates from the sideline

- "you got this!" "you're almost there!" "you're doing awesome, babe, keep pushing!"

- he'd let you grip his hand so hard, he'd hold up your legs to help you push, he'd kiss your sweaty forehead and stroke your damp hair back from your face...

- literally anything to comfort you as you worked to bring your baby into the world

- would absolutely cry with joy when your baby was finally born and bundled up against your naked chest

- he'd be so damn proud of you and amazed by what you just accomplished

- would kiss you full on the lips and would put every ounce of love that he was feeling at that moment into it

- he'd just be so fixated on the blissful serenity of you and the baby, kissing you sweetly and placing his hand and yours on your baby's damp little head

- the chaos, pain, and anxiety of the moment, the buzz of the medical team working around you would be nonexistent to him in that moment

- he'd be so eager to hold your little baby boy or baby girl, but also slightly terrified by how tiny and vulnerable they seemed

- would spend forever just staring at them, marvelling at how you had both created something so utterly perfect

- he'd run a finger down their little button nose and count their tiny toes over and over, just to make sure they were all still there

- pure elation the moment those teeny fingers, with fingernails as small as a grain of rice, wrapped around one of his fingers

- this man is sentimental, so if your baby were a boy, I honestly think that he would love to honour his late Papa Schwab by naming his son for him

- and he would melt with love for you if you were the one to suggest the idea

- post-birth acts of service would include helping you up out of the bed, helping you wash yourself, changing the baby when you need rest, helping you with breastfeeding, etc.

- he'd encourage you to sleep for two reasons: 1) bc he loves you and you need the rest 2) bc it means time with the baby for himself

- would hold them, rock them, speak to them about literally anything and everything, maybe sing quietly (and badly probably lol) to them

- he'd especially love to do skin-to-skin with them and just have his baby bundled up against his bare chest, feeling their warmth and listening to their little grunts and squeaks

- would facetime family and probably get a bit emotional again but would do his best to keep it together lol

- watching him dress the baby for leaving the hospital would honestly be so cute and hilarious

- he'd be so damn gentle and cautious like he was defusing a bomb or something lmfao

- "just gonna move your arm over here, buddy" "sorry princess, daddy's gotta put your socks on" "jeez, when did clothes become so complicated?!"

- defensive driving the entire way home from the hospital bc he's got the most precious cargo in the back seat rn

- Justin: "doesn't anyone know how to drive anymore?!" You: "Justin, it's LA, no one knows how to drive"

- he'd be so excited to have friends and family to visit and introduce them to your baby bc he'd be so damn proud to show everyone what you ✨ made ✨

- but he'd want to make sure you were both settled first and adjusting to being new parents

- he'd have so much fun telling visiting family and friends about how amazing you were and teasing you affectionately

- Justin: "she was awesome, you should've seen her..." "could use her on my o-line!"

- as tired and as nervous as he'd be at times being a new dad, he'd be so happy to be home with you and your baby, both happy and healthy

- as someone who seems to be pretty family-oriented, he'd just love to be together with you as a newly expanded family of three, ready to face whatever parenthood threw your way...

༝༚༝༚

#elle writes #justin herbert #nfl fanfic #nfl imagines #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert fanfic #justin herbert imagines #nfl fanfiction #nfl imagine #justin herbert imagine #nfl headcanon #justin herbert headcanon

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paulsbrokenaglass-beatles · 4 months

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"In early 1962, I was approached in the shop by a couple and their very young-looking daughter who nervously asked to see Mr Epstein. Brian was in London for the whole week so I ushered them through to Brian’s office. The girl was called Jennifer and she was a pretty little thing of about 16 or 17. The father spoke first. 'Well, it’s like this. We don’t want to bother anyone.’ The mother cut in, 'Our Jennifer is five months pregnant and the father is one of your Beatles - John,’ she said emphatically. The girl winced and I began to feel desperately sorry for her. The mother continued, 'It’s not right. She was only young when she went with him and I know it takes two but we reckon she were taken advantage of. She’s going to miss out on her exams and we’ve no money to take care of someone else’s baby. We want to see this John pays up in full for this baby’s upkeep. Our Jennifer says she is determined to keep the baby and we will give it a home of course.’ […] Brian rang in every day, and when he called that afternoon I broke the sorry story to him. He sounded very upset for the girl but he asked me, 'Do you believe them?’ I said that I did. There was an awful, lonely sadness in the girl’s eyes that said more than any of the mother’s angry accusations. Two days later, he was back and we discussed the matter in detail. The Beatles were at a crucial stage in their development and Brian was clearly concerned about the threat of a scandal and the effect it might have on their budding careers. The early '60s were very different days from the liberated times that so quickly followed. Brian arranged for the family to come back in and see him personally. He sent a car for them and we met them together. This time the mother was more subdued. Brian was very charming and he expressed enormous concern for the girl’s wellbeing. He apologised on John’s behalf and tried to let Jennifer down gently about the chances of renewing their relationship. Then he said, 'As the Beatles’ manager, I am responsible and I have no intention of shirking my responsibilities. I think it is in everyone’s interests for us to strike an agreement that takes care of the situation.’ Brian agreed to pay £250 and so much a week maintenance for the baby until it was 16. […] Afterwards, Brian was quite upset. 'That poor young girl,’ he said. 'Isn’t it sad that sex always seems to have such an ugly side to it? That family could have been smashed apart by this. Do you think we have put them back together again?’ 'You’re sure they were telling the truth, then, Brian?’ I asked. He looked shocked. He had taken every word they had said at face value and believed them completely. 'Alistair,’ he said imperiously, 'I can’t believe you can even think a family would put themselves through that sort of ordeal unless they were being completely honest. And not a word about all of this to John. He has enough to concentrate on. This whole affair is between you and I. The subject is now closed.’ But Brian said afterwards that what had perturbed him the most was the young girl, Jennifer. She looked a real little waif in her school uniform. Brian wondered what on earth she would have done if her parents and he had not taken charge of the situation. I said, 'Brian, some parents would have kicked her straight out of the door.’ He put his hand to his head in surprise. 'How awful!’ he said, and I could see that he meant it.

Alistair Taylor, With the Beatles

#alistair taylor #beatles #john lennon #brian epstein

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weneeya · 2 months

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hiya <3 how are you? I hope you're fine 🫶

I was just wondering, if I could request some Kazuha fluff/comfort? I don't know really have a plot idea, so you can choose anything you want. I'm just feeling quite stressed lately as I've got a new guitar teacher who makes me very very uncomfortable and whose actions trigger some of my earlier childhood trauma but it seems like none of my family and friends understand my situation. The only thing I'm craving right now is some understanding and care from my fav fictional character as I'm afraid of seeing that teacher even three days beforehand :(

I hope you're comfortable with it and it's not too specific. If you don't want to do this kind of content, it's totally fine, please don't feel pressured to write something you don't like/feel like writing!

Anyways, I hope you're safe and have an amazing day <3

Safe place

Comfort with Kazuha

hiii! I'm doing great, ty! I'm so sorry to hear about this, and I hope you're doing okay right now :( it's not easy, especially when you feel alone in this, but everything's gonna be fine I can promise <3 take care of yourself, it's important, and stay safe ; I hope my work would help you at least a little bit <3

You were feeling awful. It was like the world was against you, not giving you even a second to breathe peacefully. Everything was too much, and you were so tired of this. You felt like nothing could be better, and you were even maybe thinking about the worst.

You were sitting on the edge of a hill, your eyes looking into the void, alone with the silence and the wind. Or at least, until Kazuha arrived. He was doing a small walk in the landscapes of Inazuma when he saw you. This is why he decided to come closer to you.

He sat right next to you, looking in the same direction as you. He stayed silent, not wanting to ruin the moment. You seemed like you needed this, and it didn’t want to bother you. But leaving you alone felt like this worst idea.

You sighed slowly, before you let yourself fall slightly against his body, your head resting on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and Kazuha’s hand found its way to yours so he could grab it softly and stroke it with the same softness.

You didn’t need to talk with Kazuha, and you knew it. He would never force you to say anything, but you knew that he would also be there if you needed to say anything. He was probably the person you felt the most comfortable with, and you were glad that he was here today : you couldn’t do this alone.

As his fingers were drawing small circles on the back of your hand, he started to hummed softly, looking through the horizon. Your heart felt so much lighter suddenly, and your mind started to get completely blank. All the thoughts you had previously were disappearing and it was all thanks to Kazuha’s presence.

“You don’t have to stay alone,” he said finally, not looking at you. You opened your eyes, raising your gaze to his face ; he was still looking in front of him. “Call me, and I’ll always come.” He finally met your gaze, and a soft smile could be seen on his lips.

You felt like you were about to cry. The simple idea of having someone finally understanding you, no matter what, and being here for you was putting you on the verge of tears. You would never be thankful to Kazuha enough, but you knew that he didn’t care. All he cared about was your wellbeing.

You closed your eyes again, your head still against his shoulder. You both stayed silent, taking a moment to finally breathe. You need this, and maybe that he needed it too. Nothing else existed except you two right now, and it was all that mattered.

take care of yourselves, it's really the most important thing ; and be safe, protect yourselves, you are important, you are loved <3

#kazuha #kaedahara kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha headcanons #kazuha hcs #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs #genshin fluff

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touchoflaughter · 1 year

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Vikings Headcanons

So this is my first attempt in the Tk-Headcanon game and probably no-one will care about it anyways but I had to live out my obsession about the Lothbroks once again! (Because they're everything!!) I'll get started with Ivar and Björn on this one. Hehe have fun!

The ✨ Ragnarssons ✨ everyone!

First off my all time favourite:

Ivar Lothbrok / The Boneless

being the youngest would make him the most popular victim already but the reason he constantly gets tormented by his brothers is more due to his sarcasm, lack of respect and ruthlessness that's in stark contrast with being super ticklish

Ivar would never identify as a Lee, yet he get's tickled the most

He's a solid 12 on a tickle scale from 1 to 10. Probably since he has no sense left in his lower body, his upper body's sensitivity got doubled?

His worst spots are hard to determine since his whole torso is one big weak spot. It depends on the day which area is most sensitive.

A fun fact is, that even his tree trunk shaped arms are extremely sensitive- I'll leave it to your imagination what happens when you get to his pits...

The sadistic viking leader hates when one of his brothers takes advantage of his ticklishness. He doesn't want to be taken down by something as childish as tickling.

Also public tickles are his worst nightmare. He chases the image of a fierce and feared Leader- what's quite the contrary to the ticklish mess he get's as soon someone strokes along his side.

No matter how bad you get him- due to his stubbornness he would NEVER cave in.

As a Ler he's better not underestimated. Even though his legs are a disadvantage, once he managed to get his hands on his victim, there's no escape. Ivar's incredible arm and torso strength easily makes up for his useless legs.

He'd definitely be a sadistic Ler (if he'd be interested in something as childish and embarrassing as tickling). Mercy does not pertain to his vocabulary so you better hold him down really good, cause it's over once he get's up...

Ivar is the most cunning Ragnarsson with not only glorious war-plans but also the most effective tickling strategies. He loves to make fun of his victim what often is even more horrific than the actual tickling. Again- you'll pay an awful price for messing with him.

Björn Lothbrok / Ironside

Björn being called Ironside is no coincidence. The oldest of the Ragnarssons might not be the greatest thinker evil tongues (such as Ivars) would say -but- he's without a doubt the strongest and most skilled fighter. This makes him the Ler most of the time. No brother is able to keep up with him physically. That's why they sometimes decide to team up against him.

He's a kind-hearted Viking who'd never hurt a loved one on purpose. That's why he's using tickling quite a lot to assert dominance towards his little brothers but also for playful bonding.

As the big brother, Björn often sees himself in a leading position what makes him clash with his stubborn brother Ivar quite often. Good thing he can easily put the youngest in place with just one finger.

Unexpectedly his bear paw-shaped hands are pretty versatile tickle tools. Also there's a lot of strength in them so he can easily pin and tickle his victim for a long time without getting tired. Afraid yet? Good.

All in all, Björn is a merciless but playful Ler who laughs along with the Lee. He loves to tease but always looks after the wellbeing of his victim- except we're talking about Ivar. In this case he shows no mercy at all and his sympathetic giggling turns into a wolfish grin and gleeful laughter.

In the rare case he get's overpowered, he makes a pretty happy Lee. Björn doesn't feel embarrassed being tickled as long as it stays within the family.

He's a little ticklish everywhere but only his knees, thighs and armpits bring him to his knees.

The oldest is pretty tough when it comes to begging for mercy. Probably it's also because he secretly enjoys having a good laugh with his siblings.

One thing he really tries to avoid is being wrecked by his brother Ivar. Not only his tickling is working best on Björn, also his teasing affects him way too much. Ivar rarely tickles for bonding but mostly to see his victim suffer and pure self-entertainment. Naturally that's something Björn can't let pass.

#tickle headcanons #vikings headcanons #vikings fic #vikings tickle fic #tickle community #sfw tickles #ivar the boneless #björn ironside

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walker-extended-universe · 1 year

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Stella "Fucked Up" Rawlins

Every second of Stella and Hoyt Rawlins made my skin crawl and I want to dive into that a little bit.

First of all, we have Augustus' narration going into their story: "Sometimes the path we're on is clouded by the ones who brought us into this world." Definitely setting up for some awful parenting.

This plays over Stella and Hoyt standing outside of the bank.

I just want to go over their interaction because it's sooooo wrong

Hoyt: Mama, why are we back here?

Stella: Thought we'd swing by where you were born while we pass through.

Hoyt: Why didn't we stay?

Stella, derisively: 'Cause it was nothin' back then. And it's not much better now.

Then Hoyt makes this face:

Tell me this is not the face of a child who wants an actual home to live in but doesn't get a say

Which leads us to this:

"You tired of seeing the world with me? You want to put down roots and quit living?"

WITHOUT HESITATION, she puts words in Hoyt's mouth and turns his thoughts, however true they may be, into a slight against her. And the way she paints settling down in a bad light sure is something. Now, we know that she's an outlaw and settling down would be very bad for her since the law could catch her but we don't know how long that's been the case or how long she's been dragging Hoyt around.

Anyway

Hoyt's reaction is to say "Never!", an apology of sorts, which earns Stella's approval. "That's my Hoyt!"

Then we get to the meat of the matter: Stella frames them robbing a bank as "taking money from people who don't need it" and them having fun. Hoyt can't be much older than 10 so framing this as a game makes some sort of sense if she wants him to go along with it. It's still terrible.

As for the bank robbery itself, I don't have much to say except that Hoyt acts a lot younger than he looks. Asking the banker how high he can count and talking about eating too many lollipops.... idk he just sounds younger than he is. Makes me thing this is a script he's been running for literal years.

Now to the arrest:

Stella does get some positive points for immediately thinking of where to send Hoyt since she can't use him look after him anymore. Not many, but some.

Anyway-

"I'll find you. Bust you out, Mama."

It interests me that Hoyt's first reaction is to assure his mother that everything's gooing to be okay. He'll find her again, get her out of trouble. These are normally words that a parent would say to a child.

Stella's reaction is also interesting. She's praising him for keeping the family business going. She then promises to come back for him once she's "settled" everything.

That is the face of a woman who's just made a promise she knows she can't keep.

Then she gives Hoyt her hat and they part ways, likely for good.

I don't doubt that Stella cared for Hoyt. If she didn't, she would've left him with the Reyes' in the first place, or left him somewhere else along the way. But there is clear evidence that she's used him not only as an accomplice in her crimes but also placed the burden of her emotional and mental wellbeing on him. She treats his very normal desire for a stable home as a terrible insult to her and paints their criminal activity in a much brighter light than it deserves. No matter how you put it, she used and abused him and definitely gave him commitment and abandonment issues. Even as an adult, he can't commit to having a criminal partner, let alone a romantic one.

#walker: independence #walker: independence spoilers #walker: independence meta #stella rawlins #stella r crit #WIndy hoyt rawlins

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lemonhemlock · 1 year

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People act like parent-child relationships are super simple when Alicent is involved.

1) Otto:

Bit of a tangent but in my country (Spith Africa) when you're in grade 9 you u choose your subjects for grade 10 and maths is a must however you can choose which maths uore doing maths literacy or maths core. People who arent the best at maths should do maths literacy but you come across do many who choose maths core and other subjects they hate/have extreme difficulty with/zero interest in because of parental influence. They don't want to disappoint their parents and go against their wishes.

Now back to the show Otto tells Alicent to endear herself to Viserys in order to become queen. Otto is her father, ultimately he has a say in who she marries. She lives with him. We also see she struggles with anxiety. How exactly will she stand up to him in an epic girl boss move, in a medieval setting, when people these days struggle to do so with their own parents. It's not easy to go against your parents wishes and its especially not easy to disappoint them. What would Otto have done if she refused? If he was willing to pimp her out yo a man old enough to be her father, who basically killed his first wife would he sell her to a Ramsay Bolton type if it benefited him? Better the devil you know right?

2) her children.

Alicent was a child herself when she was forced to have them. She had to grow up fast and we see her struggle with anxiety and PPD, she has little to no support system around. The servants are there to assist but its their job. She has no one to looking out for her mental wellbeing. She is isolated and trapped in a golden cage by a dragon.

With Aegon she struggles with him because he shirks his duties and doesn't take anything seriously when his situation is a matter of life and death. She is scared for him and the others but he doesn't get it. People were calling Ned an idiot for nor securing his family's safety before working against Cersei but when Alicent does exactly that she's an awful mom.

When she tells Aegon he is not her son she is struggling to reconcile the image of her little that she raised on her own, the boy she tried to impart wisdom on with someone who would commit a monstrous act, something his (absent) father did to her. But she still loves him. She might not always like him but she was willing to stand between him and a literal dragon. Everything she has done has been for him and his siblings.

Helaena

One thing I find interesting and tragic about this relationship is that Alicent's main love languagea are acts of service and physical touch.(acts of service is her trying to keep the family together and securing peoples positions and safety. Physical touch in moments where words have failed her) She used it Rhaenrya alot when they were younger and she tries to use it on her children. Helaena has a touch aversion so we see her pulling away from her touch. (Which is why thstvone scene they actually hug is so beautiful)

Alicent nevertheless tries a different method, whole spending time together she asks Helaena about bugs. Yes she looks bored because the topic doesn't interest her but she is trying to engage with her(as someone who hyperfixtates then infodumps, this is enough. "Thank you for letting me vent about this even if you don't care about it" cause it shows that you at the care about me)

Aemond is her dutiful son who does his absolute best. She was distraught when he lost an eye and we see him return her physical gestures when she needs comfort.

Her love for her children is unconditional. She would do anything for them no matter what. She's not a perfect mom, but what parent is 100% perfect, but for a single teen mother of three, whose children's lives are constantly at stake she has done a damn good job.

Thank for furthering the Alicent agenda, chaotic coffee queen. We need brave soldiers out there fighting on the frontlines!

I agree with everything you said above. People have so much energy for hating Alicent as a mother, yet so very little for hating Viserys as a father. He is a footnote in his own family, yet viewers act as if his negligence couldn't possibly amount to behavioural issues in his own children or that Alicent should have somehow made up for it. As if anyone could erase parental abandonment.

^^^ This. Alicent is bone-weary and has trouble expressing her emotions, especially in a way that gets through to her children. Each of them is so different from the other and what works for one doesn't necessarily work for the other. It's hard for her to calibrate her strategies to perfectly tailor every member of her family, as she doesn't have access to the kind of resources we now have for child development.

#ask #anon #alicent hightower #alicent & her children #viserys literally called rhaenyra his only child & ppl believe alicent could have ever healed that gaping wound on her own #pls try and practice some empathy ppl

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lumine-no-hikari · 4 months

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #6

Dear Sephiroth,

It's Christmas today. It's one of the days upon which people in my world like to celebrate your birthday, so Happy Birthday!

Days like these usually aren't especially happy for me though, for a variety of reasons. I guess it's about time I got into 'em… I'll warn you now, if abuse (all forms) and trauma are triggers for you, this is probably something you should avoid reading.

The short version is that I am estranged from all of my biological family. It sucks and I wish it didn't have to be that way; my family is full of good and beautiful people, even though they've made some really weird choices in the throes of their pain and fear, even though some of those choices have permanently affected me in ways that are very much not ideal, and even though, no matter how hard I try, they do not hear me calling them back into the light. My voice just… isn't the kind of voice that most people find credible, I guess. There are a lot of societal reasons for that, but I won't get into that just now; maybe some other time. In any case, my hand is outstretched to them always if they want to try, but… well… they don't seem to want to, and I can't afford to bend myself into pretzels and sacrifice my peace of mind for them anymore - not while people who are willing to respect me are counting on me to be emotionally stable and meaningfully present in their lives.

The long version is that my birth in this place was accidental. I didn't come into being because I was wanted; I came into being because the condom broke. I was kept around most likely because things like aborting your kid and giving your kid up for adoption come with a lot of stigma - my parents would have had to face the fury of their family and social group, and that would have been very bad for them. From there, a lot of really weird and objectively awful stuff happened. In those days, I wasn't really a person; I was treated more like an appliance or a piece of furniture. I was a physical and emotional punching bag for others, both in and out of the various houses and schools I grew up in. I was tapped as a resource with little regard for my wellbeing (outside of that which was strictly obligatory; in my world, it's illegal to starve your kid, for example). I was parentified, objectified, beaten, and broken, and a lot of terrifying, horrifying stuff happened in between (I'll not get into it; it's too much, and I don't want you to be sad). I've been altered forever because of it all.

As it was taught to me as a child, I needed to make up for my existence by serving my master - in this case, "master" is defined as either a parental-type caretaker, a teacher or a professor, or a romantic partner, or even a friend who didn't seem to mind that I am a thing that breathes. In my case, "serving my master" looked like bringing home excellent grades, making sure the house is spotless at all times, taking care of my siblings, and doing literally whatever was asked of me, no matter how uncomfortable I felt about it or what it cost me. Again, I won't get into it; it's really not pretty.

There were PUNISHMENTS (some subtle, others very much not subtle) for failing to jump through these hoops. There were different and less severe punishments for jumping through the hoops I was meant to fail at. I did everything I could to avoid these punishments (imagine my shock at the fact that they couldn't really be avoided, despite my best efforts), bending myself up like a pretzel into whoever those in my vicinity wanted me to be. It was like the most hellish game of Twister - I couldn't fathom at the time that the conditions of this "game" were unfair, and I tore myself to pieces every single time I fell down, because at the time, tearing myself apart hurt less than having others do it for me.

But still, that's not to say it was all bad. It's not as though there was never smiles or laughter or wholesome things then. And I do know that those who were in charge of my care did love me, even if their upbringings left them unable to show it in non-violent ways. It's just that all the other stuff, all the other ways that the world seemed to be telling me that I was hated, unwanted, didn't belong, and should disappear were overwhelmingly heavy, and I almost didn't make it.

Against all odds though, I did make it. With your help, and with the help of a few very important others, I made it. I was 22 when I made it to safety, and from there, things were really weird at first. At the time, it had been ground into my skull that empathy is weakness, mercilessness is strength, cunning and ruthlessness were lauded as virtues, and emotions and expressions of wants and needs are for other people, not for me, because when I do it, it's just evidence that I'm nothing but a selfish, manipulative attention-seeker who likes to trick people into doing things for me when they shouldn't have to. When they do it, it meant that I didn't do a good enough job of anticipating their wants and needs before they had to express them, and that, too, was a punishable offense.

I can't say that I was a very kind or even a very good person then. Others try to convince me sometimes that the goodness was in me, but I think that's probably not true; I know the judgment and scorn with which I viewed others when they did not live their lives through the same harsh lens that I was brought up with. I remember how angry I used to get internally whenever I'd see children speak without permission at the grocery store. I remember the contempt I felt at schoolchildren who were allowed to stay home when they were sick. I remember all the manipulative ways I got my siblings to comply with my caretakers' rules, because if I failed to keep them in line, I was going to be the one who was punished for it, not them. I remember just how mistrustful I was towards anyone who was different from me, and how very little empathy I had for other people at the time; after all, it was taught to me over and over again that there is only one correct way to be a human (that's just "common sense", right?? this is sarcasm - insert a sigh and an eye roll here), and compassion is how you either get screwed over by other people, or end up making it so they can't survive on their own. In those days, either way, if something bad happens to me, or if something bad happens to someone else, it's my fault for having cared too much in the first place.

I was accustomed to other people using me as though I am something that is disposable. I was, with only a few exceptions (you know who you are; thank you!), accustomed to receiving verbal, physical, and even sexual violence whenever I wasn't "perfect" as defined by those within my vicinity. This was my "normal" for a very long time, and my "normal" blinded me to a variety of things, including, joy, love, care… and perhaps counterintuitively, the suffering of other people. There was so much that I simply couldn't see.

So the whole "safety, compassion, and empathy" thing was all very new and foreign to me. It took me a long time to get used to. And in the process, I lashed out often at the very same people who were trying so hard to help me, not unlike a dirty, mangy, rot-afflicted cat being captured and taken to the vet - all growls, claws, and teeth that mean BUSINESS - incidentally, did you know that cats have flesh-eating bacteria in their mouths that can make you lose an arm if they bite you, even if you get treatment promptly?

But through my kicking and screaming and resistance, I was gently held accountable for all my bullshit. What was most shocking, I think, was the fact that the people who were with me were able to hold me accountable without judging me, even when I was behaving in ways that were objectively not very lovable. But I learned. I learned, and I'm different now. I'm not the same bitter, angry, spiteful, hard-hearted person I used to be. I'm always learning new and better ways to listen to and relate to other people. I'm always learning more and more about lives and stories that look very different from my own. I am always learning to increase my self-awareness and communication skills. I'm always trying harder to learn how not to react harshly, with judgment or violence, when I feel hurt, angry, or afraid. It's not to say that I never make mistakes anymore; I can still be harsh and judgmental sometimes, and that's not great when it happens. But I can see clearly now that the true definition of strength is in choosing to be soft, loving, and kind, even in a world as fucked-up as this one, and even when you know you're gonna get hurt for it.

But it took a lot of help and a lot of courage for me to get to this point. I can say with absolute certainty that pulling back the veil on all the crap I lived through (instead of burying my head in the sand and pretending that it was all normal and okay) is, in some ways, more painful than the events themselves. Finding and rooting out all the shitty coping mechanisms I developed, staring at my own ugliness in the face, choosing to love and care for that ugliness anyway until it becomes something beautiful, breaking myself down piece by piece, and stitching myself back together from scratch… all of it without any kind of anesthesia, haha… doing this took unimaginable strength, and it's not something that people can do without help, I think; I've been lucky enough to have received a lot of hands, outstretched to me, trying to lift me up, even while I was trying to bite them; living life without chains, outside of the dark hole that I knew, seemed terrifying then, and I couldn't understand at the time that they were trying to help me to be free. I'm glad that I understand a lot more things now. But I still have so very much left to learn, and so much lost time to make up for…

You can do this, too. You have the necessary intelligence, courage, and strength of heart for it. And you have lots of people who would be willing to help you. I am one of them. So please try, because refusing to try is tantamount to saying that I am stronger than you.

And don't you DARE try tell me that some derpy, feeble, traumatized, autistic nerd like me is stronger than you. That's impossible, and you'll never, ever get me to believe that kind of nonsense. I know for a fact that you're better than me in every possible way, so if I can crawl my way back into the light with a bit of help, then so can you. That "bit of help" is right here in front of you; all you have to do is take the hand that is outstretched to you. Even if there wasn't already a lot of hands outstretched to you, mine will always be here, waiting; that much is a constant. You don't get to say that there is no one who is willing to try for your sake. You don't get to say that there isn't someone who cares. I am literally right here, and I always will be, even long after my ephemeral, unremarkable life fades unnoticed into obscurity.

I don't want to leave this on a melancholy note though, so I'll leave you with this picture, done by a person named Kate:

You are loved. You are needed. You are irreplaceable. Whatever it is that you're doing over at The Edge of Creation, make good, kind, and loving choices. And please come back to us safe and sound.

Your friend, Lumine

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yunalai · 8 months

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what do you think qiyana's greatest flaw is ? what does she think her greatest flaw is ?

I've let this ask age and ferment for a good while because it really made me think deeply about what I consider a flaw, what others might consider a flaw, and what Qiyana considers a flaw.

Though I am a die-hard enjoyer of Qiyana and I understand why she does what she does, I cannot ignore the fact she attributes no value to human life unless they are useful to her. Worse yet, the only usefulness she saw for the villagers in Trikas was to die to prove her point. She is someone who doesn't have people she cares for (going by base lore, not my interactions here), so she cannot feel connected to other people, and in turn is more than willing to dispose of them.

I don't think she feels bad for having blood on her hands. Even if she was brought before Piltover's council for her massacre of the miners, told they had families and a life to come back to, I doubt she would show a smidge of empathy. They were harming her land. And the people of Trikas let outdated tradition dictate their fate. In her head, all of these people committed a crime, no matter how little their role in it is, and if the outcome is death, then be it.

I feel like, as much as I've proved Qiyana can soften in the right circumstances, we cannot ignore that as of current lore she is an extremely cruel, merciless, and cunning individual. Though these characteristics are what help her win territory in her attempt to conquer the throne through lies and deceit, we can't ignore the fact they're awful flaws for someone to have. The worst of them all being disregarding human life.

As for what she believes is her worst flaw — Qiyana does not think of herself as flawed. It is very obvious that deep down she is incredibly insecure, but we never see her acknowledge this side of her, so for her it might as well not even exist. It is plastered all over her lore how much better she is over everyone else, almost to a godly level. And it isn't a delusion either — she is extremely talented, strong, intelligent, and manipulative.

To her, someone as deserving of the throne as her cannot have a flaw. That would defeat the whole purpose of labeling herself perfect. Though perfection is impossible to achieve, Qiyana is deeply convinced she holds no flaws. What she does is for the wellbeing of Ixtal in the long run. Isn't that kindness? Goodness?

At the most, the only thing she mentions others criticize her for is for being cold, but as someone who writes her I doubt she even considers that a negative characteristic — emotion gets in the way of decision making, or so she believes.

#windchaser #⍙ — [ answered ]#⍙ — [ about ]#[ this got a little long but i needed a long time to think about it LMAO hi marssss <3 ]

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asktheheirofslytherin · 2 years

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tw minor childhood abuse

hi!! ik i shouldn't be talking to the literal dark lord to help with all my problems, but i am at my wit's end. this is a tad dark, and i respect your decision if you decide not to answer this.

so, let me start this off by saying that i am a minor, living part-time with my parents (i am not even in high school). ill be moving in with them soon, but the problem is..

they are...abusive.

my mom likes hitting me, to say the least. and my dad berates me for every little thing. they neglected me during my childhood, which made me resent them as a child. when i got older, they sent me to live with my aunt n uncle at the age of 10. it traumatized me.

i know they love me, and sometimes they're really kind and caring, but then i wonder..

do loving parents threaten to send you away every day? do they threaten to break your leg? do they beat you daily?

and the answer is no. i know i'm making them out as monsters, they really aren't (i think they're not?), but i need advice on what i should do. to survive school while dealing with crippling mental health issues caused by my family. to deal with everything.

school, for me, is not a problem. i get fantastic grades, but my mental health is usually awful. i'm so sorry that this is so long. thank you!

Ah. Let me first acknowledge that this is an unfortunate situation, and that I commend you for maintaining excellent marks throughout this ordeal. You have a strength inside you.

Parents...are human. They are messy, flawed beings who like any other can become overwhelmed, lose control, and make poor decisions. Usually,this is alright, and even a good model of reasonable expectations. However it becomes an issue when the wellbeing of their children becomes effected.

No one is perfect, and no one is a pure monster, either, but...what you describe is not normal, and not a healthy way to behave. Your parents are not modeling a proper healthy loving relationship to you - love is not supposed to look like what you describe. Perhaps this is how they were treated as children. Perhaps it is all they know. Such treatment was all I knew, as well, in the orphanage. When Delphini was born, I did not know how to act. I was avoidant in part because I had no idea what to do. But I knew how I did not want to act, and eventually went from there. I also had the privilege of wealth, connections, and Bella to help me.

It sounds as though living with your aunt and uncle may have been th best thing under the circumstances. The trauma of the perceived rejection is still there, of course, but perhaps it was ultimately the best choice for your physical safety at the time.

I am uncertain why now you are returning to your parents, if some social services authority deems it appropriate to attempt reunion, for example, but it is happening. I do hope everyone involved is in some degree of therapy.

I advise you to continue to advocate for yourself to the adults who are supposed to be monitoring this situation, be it therapists, your aunt and uncle, other relatives, teachers, a social worker. I know you may want to protect your parents and may not want to be removed from them again, but if your physical safety and mental well-being is in jeopardy, it may end up being for the best.

If you are able, find something you enjoy, merely for yourself. Time in a club or a sport or choir, time at the library, time making art. Remember to rest. Go easy on yourself. And document everything - all of the abuse. This is for two reasons: advocacy and proof, and also... years from now, you may question your reality and wonder was it really all that bad? Was I just too sensitive? You can have the validation if you so wish.

Remember, child. None of this is your fault. You have intrinsic value, you are worthy, and protecting yourself, that classic Slytherin self preservation that all of us should embody, is paramount. Protect your greatest asset. Your life.

Best of luck,

Lord Voldemort

#Voldemort #tw abuse #child abuse tw #advice #mental health #abusive parents #foster system #and other things #emotional abuse #physical abuse #i genuinely hope eveything works out ok #and that you are safe #and happy #check in if you are able #im worried about u #good luck #you sound like a great kid and im sorry this is happening to you

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badmusejail · 5 months

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so... i was doing pretty well today, but then on the way home from my aunt's i just... got really upset.

and y'know? maybe that's expected.

on jan 13-14, it'll be two years since my parents died. and... it hurts. i mean... yeah. it hurts knowing that no one will be home when i get there. it hurts knowing that christmas will be missing two people.

but honestly, the worst part is that it was completely fucking preventable.

of course my parents would inevitably die. we all do, and hopefully, they would have died before me, because that's how it's supposed to be. so it was expected. and it's understandable.

but the fact that we had some massive fuckwad leading this country. who fucking encouraged the spread of misinformation and actively worked against the people's wellbeing.

that. that pisses me off. that ultimately? my parents didn't die from illness. they died because this country was fucking brainwashed to believe that it's no worse than the flu and that the vaccine was a hoax or even that the whole fucking thing was a hoax because some fucking idiot was either that fucking incompetent or just didn't fucking care. that somehow this fucking country came to believe that some fucking asshole politician knows better about illnesses than the fucking people that study them for a lifetime.

and it's fucking bullshit and it gets even worse because my family still roots for him. that these people in my own fucking family have lost an uncle and aunt, or a brother/sister because of this bullshit and they still believe this bastard is right.

that my own fucking uncle said to me that the hospital only put the disease on my mom's death certificate because they get a kickback from it when the hospital wasn't fucking involved in the damn autopsy you fucking idiot.

and it's awful. it's horrifying that nearly half of this country still believes this bullshit.

it was awful to hear my dad, on what turned out to be his deathbed, tell me that he regretted not getting the vaccine. that he'd do so if he had the chance.

and there's so much fucking else wrong with this world and there's nothing i can fucking do about it.

what the fuck am i supposed to do?

what the fuck is the point?

how am i supposed to thrive and be happy in a world that's on fucking fire? when there's just something fucking shitty around every corner? when it feels like every god damn time you manage to climb a little bit, the world just fucking throws you back down.

when this fucking shit is happening everywhere.

i am depressed. and i am angry.

#|| ooc | out of character #politics cw #covid cw

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demonslayedher · 3 years

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Some Obamitsu Fix-it Headcanons

It is what the title says. I'm adjusting timelines to be extra indulgent. No one can stop me. I gave them a baby.

I've analyzed the Breath of Love as not fully bloomed and expressed some frustration with Iguro Obanai for letting his own feelings of self-hatred impede on how much Kanroji Mitsuri, as a Demon Slayer, could have benefitted from his getting over himself and accepting that she wouldn't find him "dirty" at all and that she'd love to accept him. Tl;dr: Mitsuri was still very inexperienced and requires self-confidence to use her Breath well, and being married would have been the burst of self-assuredness that would had made this Breath into even more of a powerhouse than her innate anatomy already did.

To be honest, my thoughts on Obamitsu as a pairing started with "I love Mitsuri, I want to see Mitsuri happy, dang it Obanai, just make her happy." But since I've spent more time warming up to him as a character, I've gained more appreciation for them as a pairing. They were both born anomalies, hardly anyone in the world quite like them. They both struggle with feelings of inadequacy, and they're both pretty sensitive in their own ways. It's this sensitivity to each other that makes them care about each other's wellbeing so much, and makes them pick up on so many little things that they appreciate about one another.

The things each one finds regrettable about themself, the other isn't bothered by at all. It's part of what makes them who they are. I doubt Mitsuri knew the details of Obanai's past, though. While we know from Fanbook 2 that he and Tengen have gotten on the topic of their pasts and, oh, you know, killing a handful or more of their family members, Obanai probably would never want to burden Mitsuri's ears with such a dark topic. Who even knows if Mitsuri has seen Obanai's scars, he doesn't eat in front of her and in the images we're seen, he doesn't seem inclined to even touch his tea when they're dining together. If Mitsuri knew, she'd probably be surprised and feel awful about how that must had happened, but Mitsuri isn't grossed out by scars at all.

So let's play pretend and say that Mitsuri, through whatever means, has found out about Obanai's past and how he feels tainted and guilty because of it (be it through a passing comment from Kyojuro, Tengen's meddling, or Mitsuri openly asking and Obanai openly explaining). She'd of course flip out with affirmation for him, and being so weak to her sunshine, Obanai's complex melts away and he not long after asks for her hand in marriage, and she is overjoyed to accept.

And, for the sake of Fix-it AU fun, let's say this happened five years before Tanjiro & Co join the Corp, so they are past the thrilled newlywed stage in which they both have their heads in the clouds with joy, and have settled into a well-established partnership.

With those perimeters set, on to the headcanons:

- The Breath of Love, with all the extra experience Mitsuri has as well as the extra confidence she gets from having a soulmate, is highkey a force to be reckoned with, now with more finesse. Mitsuri's battle senses have grown much keener, there is far, far less fretting. She hardly ever falls back into relying on brute strength. Obanai, likewise with more experience and now with a new taste for life (and food), had continued to polish Snake Breathing and has made it pack more force.

- They do a lot of solo missions, but team up for the ones that seems they'll be especially dangerous. Their flexible sword styles have grown very, very compatible, they've developed a form or two that they perform together.

- Mitsuri's cats stay with her family, but the rabbit stays in their home. They visit the cats often.

- Mitsuri's only recently back to work due to maternity leave. Tee hee! They know having a family will be hard and that they do dangerous work, but they wanted children anyway and trust that there will be people to love and care for their children if the worst happens. They have help caring for the baby while they're both away on missions, but have otherwise tried to manage splitting parenting and Pillar time, as well as spend time together. Oyakata-sama understands the split demands but has no doubts about their commitment to the Corp, so he gives them his support. Obanai low-key wants more kids, Mitsuri high-key wants more.

- They are a legendary power couple. Everyone in the Corp knows who they are. Mitsuri is like a mom to everyone, Obanai is a little nicer now but not by much. He isn't bothered by his scars anymore and keeps his face exposed, and he smiles when he's in the company of people he cares about. He still goes into scary, strict, easily annoyed mode whenever Mitsuri isn't around.

- When they first got married, Obanai bashfully admitted he didn't like his wife being so exposed. With his feelings being the ones in question instead of her own, Mitsuri went overboard in standing up to Maeda-san. Maeda-san was chilled to the bone by how much justice she tore into him with and it took a while before he slyly started hemming skirts shorter and shorter again. Mitsuri now wears a uniform she finds more fitting for a demure wife, but the green socks are still plainly visible. She continued to use the white haori from Kyojuro but it got ripped badly in battle one day. As part of the repairs, thin black lines spaced the same as Obanai's stripes were stitched in. Her hair is braided into an up-do, she rather likes these little changes as a triumphant sign that her maiden days are behind her.

- Obanai liked the idea of giving her an engagement ring (which was already well in fashion by that time), but hestitated a lot about how much money to spend. He didn't want to be too cheap, but he still had complex feelings about luxury items. Mitsuri was surprised and thrilled to receive it at all and never cared a bit about it being on the modest side.

- Mitsuri noticed him straining his eyes while reading a book, so she took him shopping for spectacles. He's shy about wearing them, especially because it feels like it draws attention to his dichromatic eyes, so he only wears them at home. Mitsuri went wild having him try on all the different styles at the shop, and she goes into silent squealy fangirl mode when she catches him wearing them.

- The baby breaks the spectacles. Obanai is kind of annoyed, those were a gift.

- Tanjiro has met the baby. On a day when Tanjiro runs into them and the baby is fussy, Tanjiro offers to take him and settles him right to sleep. Mitsuri is exceedingly appreciative and impressed and showers Tanjiro in compliments, which doesn't earn Tanjiro any favors in Obanai's book.

- The baby doesn't have any especially striking features, but mostly takes after Obanai. He's got a couple moles. Yet to be seen if he's picked up any of his mother's muscular condition, he can't even sit up yet when Tanjiro meets him, but he's got a strong grip.

- Mitsuri's heard about this one concept she really likes, and has asked Kyojuro to be her baby's "godfather." He doesn't totally get it at first but wholeheartedly accepts. He initially made a snap judgement that Mitsuri should either quit and be a full-time mother or not hinder her Corp work by having children, but like reassessing Nezuko, he comes around pretty easily. Because this is a fix-it AU and a handful of other Pillars also got +5 years of experience, Kyojuro survives the fight with Akaza.

- And, with +5 years of experience, the Iguro Couple survives the final battle with Muzan and lives happily ever after as full-time parents. Mitsuri opens a modest restaurant (but absent-mindedly eating her own inventory is a problem, Obanai has to help her manage the accounting), and Obanai is a stay-at-home dad, sometimes he sells poems. Despite the reputation he gains for being such a mild-mannered, sensitive, strict when necessary out of love dad, old habits are hard to break and he still isn't very nice to old Corp members.

- Kaburamaru reaches a very ripe old age, nearly an incredible 30 years.

#yes this is also because of shipping Ask #and I haven't written up anything Obamitsu-related for a while #still just a preliminary answer #kny fix it AU #kanroji mitsuri #iguro obanai #obamitsu #obanai x mitsuri

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

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Anything for You

So, I got this idea in my head and I wrote it. This is not the first thing I’ve written, but the first that I finished. And the first that I’m posting. Sorry if it sucks. I hope someone out there likes it. Italics indicate past memories.

Summary: This takes place after Maeve. It sort of starts a month before Spencer goes back to work but then skips a year. Reader is the newest member of the BAU. Spencer lashes out when she tries to help him, but he doesn’t realize how much she can relate to his trauma.

warnings: angst but also a little fluff, typical CM violence (kidnapping, torture, death etc.), dark thoughts about dying, I think that’s it

Word Count: 6218

It is moments like this that make you rethink every decision that lead you here. You are on the jet on the way back to Quantico after a particularly rough case. The team managed to save the most recent victim, but only to discover three more hidden on the unsubs property. And to make it worse, they were children. Everyone on the team keeps shooting you concerned glances, worried that you might break. It’s only fair. You are still the newbie.

You started at the BAU one month ago to the day. Your previous position was a desk job, but you were ready to get back into field after two years of endless paperwork. Not that the entire team knows you had been in the field before. Only Hotch knows. You don’t like to talk about it. You had gone so far as to cut Hotch off to prevent him from bringing it up on your first day.

You are counting down the floors with each beep as the elevator rises to bring you to the floor that houses the Behavioral Analysis Unit. To say you aren’t nervous would be a lie, but that comes with the territory of starting a new job. Especially a job with one of the most elite units of the FBI. It’s hard not to be intimidated.

The elevator doors slide open, revealing the all too familiar glass doors that lead to the BAU. When you were trying to decide if switching career paths was the right decision, you found yourself staring at these doors far more than you’d care to admit.

You walk through the doors, immediately heading for Hotch’s office. He told you to meet him there first thing this morning. You knock on the open door to draw his attention.

“Agent L/N, please come in.” He looks up from the file he has open on his desk.

“Agent Hotchner, I would just like to thank you again for the position.” You have to stop yourself before you ramble on about how grateful you are for his taking a chance on you.

“Please, call me Hotch. You’re new ID was just dropped off.” He says, handing you the plastic card to put in your credentials. You take a moment to admire the way your name looks just above the words “Behavioral Analysis Unit” before sliding it into the wallet.

“I wish we had time for a more thorough welcoming, but we just got a case. I’ll introduce you to the team in the conference room.” He rises from his desk, you following behind him to a room already full of profilers. Of course, you already know of them all, but the introductions are nice nonetheless.

“L/N, these are SSAs Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, and Jennifer Jureau and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You shake hands with each member of the team as there name is called. “Team, this is SSA Y/N L/N. She transferred from violent crimes-” You know he is going to bring up your previous field work, so you cut him off.

“It’s an honor to meet you all.” You smiled at Hotch, trying your best to get him to move on. Thankfully, you can see in his eye that he understands why you don’t want to relieve your past field experience.

“Actually, that’s not all. Dr. Reid is on leave at the moment, but you’ll meet him when he returns.” You nod, taking a seat next to Derek. “Garcia, you can start now.”

The memory fades and you try to ignore the concerned glances from everyone on the jet. Yes, you were the one to find the children in the back shed, but you have techniques to handle this. You’ve always been good at compartmentalizing. It comes with the territory of undercover work.

You are more concerned with the wellbeing of one Dr. Reid. This is the first case you’ve worked with him, but it still feels like something’s off. Granted, you don’t know why he was on leave or how long it lasted.

After everyone else is asleep, barring Hotch who is too focused on his reports to pay you any attention, you slide down into the seat across from Spencer. He doesn’t even glance up from his book.

“Dr. Reid?” You can tell he’s stopped reading at the sound of your voice, but it takes him a moment to actually look up at you. When he does, you can see the sadness in his eyes.

“L/N. Are you okay?” Of course he would ask you that. You’ve known him for all of 72 hours, but he’s still concerned about you’re wellbeing. The way your heart flutters at the sentiment catches you off guard.

“Oh, um, I’m fine. I actually wanted to check on you.” He looks startled at that, but you just push forward. “I know we only just met, and I have no idea what you’re going through, but I just thought maybe I could help.” You can see the instant you finished talking that it was a mistake. He is clearly not ready to talk about his demons, especially with a near stranger.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ “No, you shouldn’t have.” His words are defensive more than anything. The words of someone who just went through unbelievable pain “You couldn’t possibly help me. Unless, of course, you’ve been kidnapped, tortured, and drugged, shot multiple times, and witnessed the love of your life being murdered in front of you just to name a few. I’m sure you have plenty of experience with that given your work in violent crimes.” The sarcasm is obvious, with violent crimes being a desk job. He mistakes the tears that spring to your eyes as pity rather than understanding. He scoffs, going back to his book while you wander back to your previous seat, trying to control your emotions.

Spencer doesn’t know about your time undercover. He doesn’t know you experienced all of those things. He doesn’t know about the scars that line your torso or the more prevalent scars on your heart. You try not to take it personally. You’ve had years to deal with your trauma. His is clearly newer. You tell yourself over and over that he’s not angry with you, but with the world. You just happened to be the first available outlet.

When the others wake up, they assume your red eyes are due to the case. That you are finally breaking down after a month on the job. They offer words of encouragement and promises to be there if you need to talk. They stress how you aren’t alone. They all know how you feel. You simply nod, gathering your things before heading home. You can’t help but think there is one of them who knows exactly what is going through your head. It’s the first time you’ve cried over Cameron in three months, the last time being the anniversary of his death.

-------

The next year at the BAU flies by. You actually feel like part of the family, knowing you could talk to any member of the team when you need a friend. Well, almost any member of the team. You and Spencer didn’t click the way everyone thought you would. Ever since the conversation on the plane, you hold back when you’re with him. It’s not that you two avoid each other. You’re just more like coworkers than family. You converse when you need to, but don’t seek each other out.

Nobody understands why. Hotch especially thought the two of you would become close. You can see why he would think so. From your brief encounters with Spencer, you can tell he’s been through hell. Hotch was probably hopeful the two of you might bond over shared trauma, act as an anchor for each other to know you aren’t alone. Of course that required you to share your trauma with the team, which definitely has not happened.

It’s not that you don’t trust them. It’s just that the moment hasn’t provided itself yet. First of all, you can’t just casually bring up being kidnapped and tortured for government secrets with your fiancé who was then murdered in front of you. Second of all, something in you says it would crush Spencer. You can tell he clearly still feels bad about what he said to you that day.

You two hadn’t talked about it. It was a year later, and you still hadn’t talked about it. You would think he forgot, but he does have a rather prolific memory. Everything was fine though. Mostly. He still seemed nervous around you. Or maybe you were projecting. There is something about Dr. Reid…

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” You were honestly surprised to hear Spencer’s voice saying those six words. Everyone else had already gone home, even Hotch. You just wanted to finish one more file.

“Of course, what’s up?” You try desperately to sound casual, to pretend like you weren’t just thinking about him. Despite not talking to Spencer all that often, you still have a massive amount of respect for him. Watching him work is incredible. You would expect most people with his intelligence to come off as cocky, but he is somehow still so humble.

“I just wanted to apologize. For what I said on the jet. I was in a bad place, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have said those things, you were just trying to help me, and I threw it back in your face. Also, I’m sorry it took me so long to actually apologize. I just felt so awful, I didn’t know how to bring it up and the longer I waited the more nervous I became and” “Spencer,” he looked startled at the sound of his name. Granted, you normally call him Dr. Reid or Reid when you’re feeling more casual, but still. It’s his name, why is he so surprised you’re using it? “You didn’t do anything wrong. Trust me. You were dealing with an amount of grief nobody should have to go through. I shouldn’t have tried to step in without knowing more about the situation. I’m sorry.” This is your chance. Tell him what happened to you. Come clean about it all.

He just looks so… relieved. As if you had lifted a weight off his shoulder just by telling him you understood he didn’t mean it. Seeing the hope in his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to put any of that weight back on him. He had just freed himself, he doesn’t need your problems weighing him back down.

You can tell he still feels bad, but maybe now the two of you can try to move on. Maybe you’ll actually become friends. Telling him that you have indeed been through all of those things would just bring all that guilt back. For some reason, there is nothing you would rather do than protect Spencer Reid from pain.

So, you’ve resigned yourself to never telling anyone unless you absolutely had to. You convinced yourself it was a secret you could take to the grave. Nobody needed to know.

Until one day, they do. And that day happens to be tomorrow.

“Hello, crime fighters. This one is a doozey.” Penelope walked into the round table room and immediately jumped into the case. “Three heterosexual couples in Plano, Texas have been killed. The details are on your tablets. Be warned, it is not a pretty sight. All the victims were tortured. The men all died of blood loss. The women were drowned after multiple non fatal gunshot wounds and other various forms of torture.” You tensed ever so slightly at the description of the crimes. Hotch shot you a concerned glance, but you waved him off with a slight shake of your head. You zoned out for the rest of Garcia’s description, deciding instead to focus on every detail you could learn from the case files on your tablet.

“Wheels up in 20.” Hotch’s voice drew you from your focus on the files. “Y/N?” You looked at him from your seat at the table, realizing everyone else had already left. “If this is too much for you, everyone would understand.” You stand, plastering the fakest smile Hotch has ever seen on your face.

“I appreciate the concern, but there is a job to do. And I intend to do it.” There is no malice behind your words. Only a fierce determination to catch this unsub before he can hurt anyone else.

“Alright, but Y/N, please. Let me know if you need to talk about it. The whole team is here for you.” You features soften into a genuine smile before you respond.

“Thank you, Hotch.” And with that, you exit the room. You grab your go bag, meeting the other agents by the elevator.

The flight to Texas is long enough that the team’s discussion doesn’t prevent everyone from catching up on sleep. While everyone else is resting, preparing to start up again on the ground with fresh eyes, you are pouring over every detail again and again. You just need to know if it’s the same people. The same people who killed your fiancé. The same people who tortured you.

It was a day like any other. You had just gotten to the bar you were working at as a cover. Cameron was working security, you as a bartender. The mission was supposed to be simple.

There was a domestic terrorist cell operating just outside of Plano in Addison, TX. The leader was believed to own the very bar you had gotten a job in. You were supposed to gather intelligence, and report back. You weren’t supposed to engage with the terrorist cell. It was a simple mission.

That day, the day you could never forget, started exactly how you expected it to. The leader was supposed to be meeting with his right hand. You were supposed to learn who or what they were planning to target. You still can’t pinpoint the moment you knew something was wrong.

Everything was normal when you clocked in. Everything was normal when you served you first few customers. Everything as normal when you walked up to the table hosting the meeting and asked if you could get them anything. Everything was normal until it wasn’t.

You remember waking up in a warehouse. Cameron was tied to a chair across from you. He was injured, bleeding from a cut in his side. It didn’t look that bad, but there was so much blood. How could such a small cut produce so much blood?

You had a million questions, but couldn’t form the words to ask them. You’re mouth felt like it was full of cotton. Cameron looked at you as if he knew something you didn’t. You suppose he did, given that he was awake before you. But that’s not what concerned you the most. No, it was the look of pure terror in his eyes. Pure terror, mixed with… resignation? That doesn’t make sense. Why would he be giving up?

Finally gathering enough strength to speak, you mumble “What happened?”

“Y/N… they know who we are. I don’t know how they figured it out, but they did. They are going to hurt me to get to you. You can’t let them, okay? Stay strong. Everything will be fine.” His words are rushed. You have a hard time following them, as if the words drift into the air, only to enter your head in a different order.

Before you have a chance to ask any more questions, you hear a door swing open behind you. You can hear the footsteps, but can’t turn around enough to see who they belong to.

“Do it.” You know that voice. You know you know it, but you can’t place it.

A man appears from your left. He stands in front of you, a mask covering his face so you can only see his eyes. “Let’s have some fun.” You’re ready for him to hit you. Or cut you. Or hurt you in any way. What you’re not ready for is him pulling a knife only to walk over to Cameron.

“No” The word is barely there. You aren’t even sure you said it out loud.

“Y/N, don’t tell them anything. Okay? I’ll be fine.” Cameron is looking at you with pleading eyes. You both know he’s lying.

“Your fiancé here is a liar.” The man sneers, dragging his knife down Cameron’s arm. “He will most certainly not be fine.” With that, the man plunges the knife into Cameron’s stomach. A gut wrenching scream leaves his mouth as the man moves the knife around inside his body. You try to control your reaction, but tears instantly spring to your eyes.

“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll leave your man alone.” There’s no point. Cameron would never forgive you if you gave up information to the enemy. He’s always been a loyal soldier. Either way, deep down you know he won’t live much longer. He’s lost too much blood. You are going to have to watch the man you love die. He’s going to bleed out in front of you. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

You are shaken back to reality after the jet has landed. You slowly come to, realizing you must have fallen asleep while you were looking at the files. You can’t get the eyes out of your head now. The last time you had a nightmare was 6 months ago. Although, this was more of a memory than the usual nightmares you have.

“Y/N/N? You good?” Morgan is looking at you with concern that hasn’t been there since your first month on the job.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just groggy.” You try to laugh it off, walking past him and jumping into an SUV. You’re supposed to go with Hotch to the precinct to set up, so you can avoid the rest of the team’s questions for now.

You bury your head in the files again, trying to discern if anything feels off or if it is all too similar to be a coincidence.

“Just answer the question. This will all be over.” Cameron is dead. You are staring at his lifeless body as the man tries to torture you to get the answers he wants.

With all the strength you can muster up, you spit at him. “I didn’t break before and I won’t break now. Do what you want to me. You’ll never get your answers.” “Oh everyone’s got a breaking point. I’ll find yours.” With that, he storms passed you and out of the room.

You try to inventory the damage he’s done, but it’s hard because he typically drugs you when he leaves. You’re too disoriented to remember everything. You haven’t heard anything else from the first voice, but you finally realized it was the owner of the bar.

You are just about to drift back into unconsciousness when you hear a loud crash from somewhere in the building. You expect the masked man to come running back into the room, but instead you’re greeted with the face of the terrorist cell leader. He pulls you to your feet, mumbling about how this wasn’t part of the deal.

You don’t have the energy to protest as he pulls you down hallways and through doors. He bursts into a large open room. It smells like chlorine, but your eyes are too fuzzy to figure out why. The lights just got so much brighter, and you can’t see. You keep slipping on the floor. The third time, you fall to the ground. Everything is wet. He’s kicking you now. No, rolling you. It all feels distant. As if it’s not happening to you, but rather you are watching it happen to someone. Like a movie.

You hear the splash before you register the water surrounding you. You’re sinking. It’s actually quite warm. Like a comforting blanket tucking you into bed. The sounds of people yelling fade out as the water covers your head. You feel at peace as everything fades to black.

Suddenly, the peace is gone. You can hear voices. They sound loud, but still distant. Like you are swimming and someone is trying to talk to you from above the water. But the ground is hard now. There’s loud bangs too, but you can’t figure out what they are. There’s no pattern to them, but suddenly they stop. Maybe you’ll never know what they were, oh well. You just want to get back to the peaceful darkness.

Instead, you feel burning in your lungs and a pounding in your head. It feels like someone is punching you in the ribs. No. No. No. Where’s the peace?

All at once, the burning liquid is expelled from your lungs and your eyes fly open. You try to spin around, to see what’s happening, but everything hurts. Your lungs are trying to fill with air. Your eyes are trying to adjust to the lights. You head is begging everything to just stop making noise. Then, darkness. It’s not a peaceful transition this time. It’s sudden, as if someone turned everything off.

“Y/N?” The sound of your name draws you out of the memory again. You turn to see Hotch’s concerned expression. He’s parked the car outside of the station.

You take a few deep breaths before speaking, trying to prepare yourself for what you never wanted to have to do. “I have to tell them.” Hotch nods with a grim expression on his face.

“The team won’t judge you for keeping it a secret. We’ll all be there for you.” He tries to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. He’s too worried about you.

“I know. It’s not me I’m worried about.” For the first time since you met him, Aaron Hotchner looks confused. It’s actually kind of funny. Although, your laughing sounds more delirious than amused.

“Hotch, my first case with Spencer, do you remember it?” You shudder at the memory.

“Of course. It was hard on both of you.” Your smile feels weak, even to you.

“Well, I tried to check on him. I had only just met him, but he looked so sad. I wanted to take his pain away.” You can feel the tears coming, but you can’t figure out why. “He said unless I had been kidnapped, tortured, and drugged, shot multiple times, and witnessed the murder of the love of my life there was nothing I could do to help him.”

You can’t bring yourself to look at Hotch. His worrisome expression will just make you feel worse.

“You didn’t tell him.” The realization is evident in the lilt of his voice. Turning toward him, you try to explain, but he cuts you off. “He was listing trauma you’ve both experienced, and you didn’t tell him.”

“Of course not, he would’ve felt so guilty! He already feels so guilty and he has no idea. We talked it out, you know. We were actually becoming friends, although it was hard to see from an outside perspective.”

“You had me fooled. The two of you barely talk.” Hotch looks incredulous. You’ve never seen so many emotions on his face in one day, let alone one conversation.

“I know. It’s still new. Honestly, it happened yesterday.” Hotch actually chuckles at that. “I think he still feels bad that my first impression was him yelling at me. He’s going to feel so guilty, and I just wanted to keep that pain away from him. He doesn’t need my emotional baggage on top of his own.” You can’t read the expression on his face anymore. You can tell he’s thinking something, though he doesn’t intend to share.

“It’ll all work out in the end, Y/N. Reid is stronger than he looks. He’s been through a lot, but so have you. Let’s go catch this son of a bitch.” And the two of you exit the car as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

Your nerves build waiting for the rest of the team at the station. Spencer and Derek are last to arrive. You were hoping to have a few more minutes to figure out how to tell them all about the worst moments of your life, but alas the time has come.

Hotch clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. The conversations about theories die out as all eyes turn to him. “Y/N has a theory to share.”

That’s one way to put it. Before you can back out, you jump right in.

“The unsub was a for-hire torturer. I think he left the business and started killing for fun. A sadist. He enjoys the psychological torture of killing the one person you love more than anyone.” You can’t bring yourself to say another word. Spencer looks grief stricken. Everyone else is looking at you in confusion, except Hotch who is looking at you with sorrow. You can’t decide which is worse.

“What makes you say that?” Derek is the first one to speak. He clearly doesn’t understand why you came to that conclusion. Plus, he’s probably confused that Hotch had to introduce your theory rather than just include it in the brainstorming.

“Before I worked in violent crimes, I worked in the National Security division. I focused on domestic terrorism. We had a mission go wrong. It was supposed to be a simple, just gathering intel. Something went wrong and two agents were abducted.” You unconsciously decided to depersonalize the story. It’s something Hotch quickly caught on to, but what can he do about it? You just need to get the words out.

“They were a couple. Engaged. The man, he died from three precise wounds to the abdomen. He bled out while his fiancé was forced to watch.” You’re grateful when Emily interrupts.

“Did the woman drown?” The woman. You.

“No. Well, yes. She was dead for 3 minutes when they found her. The cell leader dumped her into a pool in the building she was being held in. They caught him trying to flee the building. When they questioned him about a partner, he said he hired someone to torture the couple to get information. He didn’t know where he went. I think that’s the unsub.”

Instantly, the team is theorizing. You stay quiet, listening. Where could he have hidden for this long? Were there more crimes in other states? Can Garcia look through unsolved double homicides that fit the signature? Before long, Derek asks the question you’ve been dreading.

“Can we interview the agent who survived?” You’re grateful that he’s looking at Hotch when he asks. Spencer, though, his eyes haven’t left you since you started speaking. He knows. You know he knows because you can see the weight bearing down on him. You tear your eyes away from him when Hotch clears his throat to get your attention.

“Y/N, can we interview the agent?” His tone is gentle. Hotch knows what he’s asking. Are you ready to tell them the truth? To share this pain with all of us?

“Yes. You can interview her.” You are visibly tense, but Morgan is just confused about the interaction. Why would Hotch need to ask you for permission? Why does he sound like someone just kicked his puppy?

“Great, when can she get here?” Of course, Morgan would ask the next logical question.

“She’s already here.” Your voice is quiet. He almost doesn’t hear you.

“What? Where?” He knows he’s missing something. It’ll only take him a few more seconds to put it together, but you save him the trouble.

“Right here.” You gesture to yourself, eyes flitting between Spencer’s and the ground. The rest of the team didn’t hear you. They were still working out theories as you, Morgan, Hotch, and Spencer converse in cryptic sentences and brief eye contact. Spencer is frozen in place. Hotch was stressed for you. It’s never easy to share past trauma, let alone when you feel like you don’t have a choice.

The realization hits Morgan so fast he almost falls to the ground. He rushes to you, pulling you into the tightest bear hug you have ever experienced. Morgan has become like an older brother to you. He always jokes about how he would beat up anyone who hurt you. You always joke right back about doing the same for him. He told you about Carl Buford a few months ago. It was also on a case. You would’ve told him everything then, but you didn’t want him to feel like you thought the two were comparable or that his trauma was somehow less important just because you’d been through some bad shit too.

His actions drew the attention of Rossi, JJ, and Emily though. You weren’t an overly emotional person usually. Undercover work made you good at compartmentalizing, so you never really sought out someone to comfort you. The sight of you in tears, wrapped in Morgan’s arms threw them for a loop. You normally waited until you got home to go through your routine to decompress. It was easier that way. But right now, the thought of even looking at Spencer was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You just couldn’t stop thinking about him. It felt weird, to be sharing such an intimate part of your life with everyone and still be thinking about him. You had moved on from it all though. You knew how to deal with it. Of course, you still love Cameron, but you talk about everything in therapy once a week so you won’t break down like this.

You see JJ look to Spencer for an explanation, but he’s too busy looking at you with more pain in his eyes than should be possible. He knows how it feels to see someone you love die right in front of you. He knows how it feels to try and move on from being drugged and tortured. He knows how it feels to be alone in it all. What he doesn’t know is how it feels to try and help someone through that grief only to have your own thrown back in your face. That’s what he did to you. Albeit, unintentionally but he did that. And it is so clear that he feels awful. You wish you could talk to him, but Morgan is pulling you into a different conference room for a cognitive interview that you somehow agreed to in your state of shock.

Hotch explains the situation to Rossi, Emily, and JJ. Spencer’s guilt only pushes further down on him when he hears it all again.

He stares at the room you’re in through the class doors of the conference room. He hasn’t moved in the ten minutes you’ve been gone. He expected JJ to talk to him first, but he was surprised to find Hotch instead.

“Y/N told me in the car that she was scared to share that story.” Hotch starts slow, trying to ease Spencer out of his own head.

“I would be too. It’s a painful memory to relive.” Spencer responds with a familiar tightness in his chest.

“She wasn’t worried about herself though.” Spencer’s head jerks up to meet Hotch’s stare.

“What do you mean? Who else would she be worried for?”

“You.” Hotch says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. You being worried about him when you share your darkest memories.

“Me?” Spencer practically falls out of his chair in an effort to sit up straighter. “Why would she worry about me?” Despite his genius IQ, he can’t fathom why you would worry about him in this scenario. If roles were reversed and he had to tell the story of watching Maeve die, he wouldn’t be worried about you. He slowly comes to the conclusion that he would be worried about you though. Now that he knows you’ve been through something similar, he would worry about you anytime it was brought up. Anytime anything remotely similar was brought up.

“She told me what you said to her on the jet after your first case together.” Spencer falls into himself at the memory, his guilt pushing his shoulders down. “She said you still feel guilty about it. That hearing the things she has been through would push all that guilt back to the surface. More than anything, she wanted to protect you from more pain.” Hotch seems to know more than he’s saying, but Spencer is too shocked to profile him.

“But, I, how would, but…” Spencer is muttering the beginning of every thought running through his head, but he can’t seem to form a complete sentence. “Why?”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

Between your cognitive interview and Garcia’s sleuthing, the team find the unsub rather quickly. You stay at the station when the team goes to catch him. You try to protest, but Hotch, Morgan, and Emily stare you down until you concede. Really though, it was the concerned look from Spencer that convinced you to sit down and wait. The case wraps up quickly after that. The masked man ended up being Kyle Beckett. A classic sadist.

It brings you more closure than you would have imagined to know he will be locked up for the rest of his life. You spent a lot of time in therapy trying to cope with the fact that he was never caught. And now, it’s over. You’re also extremely grateful you didn’t have to face him, although you would never admit that you were actually glad to stay behind. They can all tell though. They are profilers after all.

You can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu at all the stares you’re getting on the jet. It’s as if time itself was rewound to a year ago. You feel like the newbie again. Getting ready to have a heart to heart with Spencer. You’d be blind not to notice the parallels of the two situations when Spencer slides into the seat next to you on the jet after everyone else falls asleep.

The silence is comforting at first, but quickly becomes unbearable.

“Hi” You have a sleepy smile on your face when you say it. You are unbelievably exhausted after everything that happened. Too tired to fully conceal the emotions you know you have been denying. You’re always happy when you talk to him, even if the occurrences are a bit far and few between compared to other members of the team. “You look sad.”

His mouth actually twitches upward at that statement, which you count as a win in your book. “You’ve been through hell on this case, and you’re still worried about me.” You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s too good at hiding his thoughts inside that big beautiful brain.

“I’ve always worried about you. Ever since I met you. You just looked so sad and I wanted to make it stop.” You aren’t thinking before you speak anymore. Probably why Spencer suddenly looks so surprised.

“Is that why you didn’t want to tell me?” Now it’s your turn to look confused. How did he know that? “I may have talked to Hotch earlier…” It takes longer than you’d care to admit for you to understand what exactly Hotch told him. But still, you’re too tired to be bothered.

“I’m sorry if that was weird for you. It’s just, after we talked about it I thought maybe we could eventually be friends or something. I didn’t want you to be sad again. I know what it feels like to be sad. I also know what it feels like to be sad again when you realize someone else is sad for that same reason.” You must actually be exhausted because it feels like you’re talking in riddles. “Sorry, that doesn’t make sense. I just mean, I didn’t want you to feel bad about it again. I didn’t want you to feel more pain” You’ve started leaning toward him, about ready to pass out.

“You’re incredible. You truly are amazing. I don’t think a day will go by where I don’t feel awful for what I said to you, but maybe with enough time I can make it up to you.”

“I would like that.” You smile brightly as you look into his eyes. They seem sad still, but there is a brightness there that wasn’t there before.

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he lets you lay down in his lap as you drift off, the soothing feeling of his hands in your hair lulling you to sleep.

You wake up as the jet touches down. The memories of your conversation with Spencer bring a smile to your face. He looks down smiling when you shift in his lap.

“Thank you” You’re not surprised he still feels like he needs to thank you.

“I would do anything for you Spencer Reid.” You get up to collect your belongings, turning back only when you realize he hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

“Spence, let’s go.” Spence. He likes the sound of that. Maybe, just maybe the two of you will be okay.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #spencer #spencer reid one shot #mgg

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xxtoothachexx · 2 years

Note

I saw the emergency request you wrote for a trans reader comforted by Inosuke and Kyojuro. I’m going through something very similar, spending christmas with my family who I’m not out to yet and say some transphobic things sometimes. Can I request something with Sanemi and Tengen where they comfort a trans demi-boy reader? Thank you so much for accepting requests like these, they are very comforting :) <3 (also apologies if you get two of these requests! the first time it said it didn’t submit!)

Sanemi & Tengen comforting a demiboy reader on the holidays

a/n: I'm so sorry this is late for the holidays!! I hope they weren't too awful but if it was here this is for some possible comfort. you completely valid and loved as a demiboy, i am one too!! love you lots hun

warnings: gender talk and transphobia

Sanemi is a struggle to convince into going to the family gathering. He doesn’t even want to give it a try, he has no intentions of calling you by a name you dislike or listening to your relatives comments

He holds a lot in common with Inosuke with his way of dealing with things, he snappy and will always be telling you that you’re valid the way you are. He doesn't care what others may say you still are who you are

But he’ll be much nicer where it counts, he’ll let his guard down to be softer with you and give you compliments that make you feel much more comfortable. Whatever you say makes you feel better he’ll repeat back in kind little comments

If you need to go early he’ll be grabbing your coat and escorting you out the door right then and there, he cares more for your wellbeing than anything else. He doesn’t care if your family is annoyed, as long as it makes you feel better he’s okay with it

Tengen is a bit annoyed at the explanation of your family, he speaks his mind and is quick to say what his feelings are. He already knows that he probably isn;t going to like them but goes with it

When the both of you are getting ready, he gives you full access to his closet to pick out whatever you may be more comfortable wearing. If you’re smaller than him they may not fit but Tengen is alright with buying you something early as a gift

He’s affirmative to your gender no matter what, even if you feel like you look more “girly” or doubting yourself he just pushes it away. “You’re just looking fantastic, absolutely nothing less than that.” He grins at you and ruffles your head

Tengen has no shame and will absolutely call your family out for their transphobic remarks, he doesn’t care if he starts an argument he’s not letting them get away with it. It’s very validating to know how driven he is to defend your identity

#demon slayer #kimestu no yaiba #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer x reader #shinaguzawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #tengen uzui #tengen x reader

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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 3 years

Text

The Princess who became a swan pt2

You had a look of displeasure as you were forced to sit on Kars lap as he stroked your hair while reading a book. Occasionally you would shift your leg only to hear the chains rattle.

“Dear swan, are you so eager to leave the nest?” Kars asked in his usual condescending tone. You merely huffed as you sat on the cold marble floor.

“Are you mad about the cage? I can assure you that it’s for your safety, I can’t have you nearly killed again” he cooed as he reached for your shoulder only to have you slap it.

“Sometimes in hindsight I think to myself that maybe I should have let him kill me, I’d have rather that than have you degrade me further like this…” you spoke with venom in your words.

“I promise you I’ll leave someday… and I’ll never come back to this hell” you continued which he responded with a smirk.

“You really are such a brat, I offer you protection and heal your wound and you repay me by spitting it right back in my face” he spoke as he normally did, however the sudden tense atmosphere made you regret what you said.

“Even if you were to leave I know you’ll come back, where else do you have to go?” he chuckled as his crimson eyes pierced your soul.

“You have the stupidity to speak so venomously to me, yet you cower when I acknowledge your words” he continued before grabbing you from the back of your head.

“You really shouldn't keep trying to push me away, because if you do… then you’ll have no one”

🦢🦢🦢

For days and days Joseph couldn’t help but think about the maiden in the forest. He talked and talked about her refined features to his rivaling knight. As more days passed he heard talks between his Mother and various officials from kingdoms near and far in arrangement of a soiree and the mentioning of finding someone to marry him off to.

He knew in his heart that he had to find her again as he couldn’t bare the thought of another woman, so for many days and nights he searched the land in hopes to find her but with no luck of seeing the maiden in white he’d seen on that fateful night, perhaps she was a woman of the wind only to vanish and never return.

As the soiree approached his hopes grew less but he was too stubborn to give up anything he started.

🦢🦢🦢

You waited inside of a golden cage, shaking it as you flapped your wings in anger as you saw Kars return. If he had been a moment later your human form would have been mangled inside of it but he had no care for your wellbeing as you were merely a pet or at worst an object in his eyes.

“Oh I’m dearly sorry my swan, you must have been so restless for my return” he spoke as if he was making his words sound like some vague attempt at an apology. He finally opened the lock and let you free from your small cell into the bigger one you had been confined in for so long.

You looked back up at the moon through the window with a heavy heart as you returned to your human form. Then a bright idea sparked in your mind before you ran up to Kars and wrapped your arms around him, he was surprised but enjoyed the sudden affection.

“Oh yes I have my love... for I have realized how harsh I’ve treated you, my one and only” you spoke with crocodile tears in your eyes. He looked down on you and smiled but did not let his guard down as he was cautious of what malice intentions were hidden behind your teary eyes.

For days you held up your act as much as it sickened you deep down like a bitter poison. letting his hands touch you in a way that made your skin crawl as he wished and returning such words of affection that made you want to gag on them.

As you sat beside him letting his fingers brush through your hair while reading one of the many books in his collections you finally decided to fulfill your plans now that you were no longer in chains.

“I’m parched, do you want a cup of tea made while I make some for myself” you asked knowing that he hadn’t had a drink for quite some time.

“Yes my swan, I’d enjoy that” he replied, still paying attention to his book. You looked to the window and saw that it was not long to sunrise before heading to the kitchen and heating some water over a fire. You grabbed a pair of fine porcelain tea cups and placing them on a tray, you fiddled you hand in the pocket of your dress before grabbing a vial filled with a white powder and pouring it’s contents into one of the cups and in the other you added a teaspoon of dried petals from various flowers.

As the water had finished boiling you added the tea leaves to his cup. Adding the water you carefully stirred the sleeping powder into his drink, making sure the powder fully dissolved into the tea before adding the rest of the water into your cup. You returned to him with the tray in hand and placed it on the coffee table beside him. You picked up your cup and sat beside him.

As you let your tea cool in your hands you tried not to look at him, the anticipation was too much. You kept looking in the corner of your eye to take a sip.

“Why do you keep glancing at me like that?” he asked as he noticed your strange behaviour.

“I’m just a little anxious… It’ll be morning soon and you’ll probably throw me in that cage again…” you muttered before finally taking a sip of your tea.

“Perhaps I’ve been too harsh on you my swan, you’ve been so well behaved that I think it is only fair that you have the privilege to sleep beside me” he spoke as his fingers twirled the strands of your hair before taking a sip of tea. He noticed a bitterness on his palette as he drank it, he gave you a glance but spoke no more words.

Eventually he finished the cup and continued to read for a few minutes before he was overcome by sleep. You sat up and took a few soft steps before running as fast as you could to escape from his domain into the darkness of the last hours of night. Where heavy clouds passed through the tall, old trees. Thunder roared in the distance, warning those of it's fast journey forward towards them.

🦢🦢🦢

As morning arrived the rain pelted down against your wings unforgivingly as you tried to fly below the blackened clouds. You grew tired as you had flown for hours, yet your stomach ached knowing that you were still within Kars reach. By now he would have woken up and caught on to what you had pulled on him.

You found yourself succumbing to exhaustion, your body dipping lower as your eyelids grew heavy. You finally decided to take cover in the forest below. You found an old, hollowed tree and nested yourself inside it to take shelter while you regained your strength.

As you slept you dreamt of many fantasies both good and bad, your wishes of reuniting with your family came to fruition only to be snatched away by the nightmares of Kars tormenting you through your existence. The lines between dream and nightmare overlapped so many times that it became disorientating.

You heard an incoherent voice that aroused you from your deep slumber. You rubbed your eyes before opening them even then your vision was still a blur.

The first thing you noticed was the bright moon that made the figure in front of you a mere silhouette before your vision cleared enough to reveal the man who had shot you with the arrow.

You cowered back a bit in fear of the male, unintentionally letting out a squeak.

"Aww are you a scared little mouse" he snarky commented with a slight chuckle, loosely reminiscent of how Kars mocked you. Your expression turned sour as you looked at him, which made him avoid direct eye contact.

"Ok ok, I'm sorry… don't take it like that" he responded before holding out his hand to help you up.

"I was wondering what happened to you that other night, you were in a real hurry with that arrow in your arm" he said as he waited for you to take his hand, which you reluctantly did.

"You should at least say something, it's rude to not respond when a prince is talking to you" he commented as he didn't like it when others ignored him.

"At least give me your name" he continued as he pinched your cheek. You pulled away before you finally spoke.

"I don't want to tell you my name" you hissed in response. Sure it seemed harsh but if word were to spread about your emergence it would break your heart. You couldn't bring yourself to show yourself to your parents and explain what happened since your Disappearance, or the consequences that Kars would condemn you to.

In your thoughts Joseph could see your expression soften and reveal the sadness in your dazzling eyes. He pitied you for that, how such a beauty could wear such a morbid look was criminal.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the male tapped the tip of your nose while exclaiming bop in a goofy manner.

You were taken back by his action, maybe just because you've been starved of touch from the others in the world. He laughed at your confused reaction.

“What’s so funny?” you asked him as you frowned. He chuckled as he ruffled your head.

“You’re really uptight for someone who hides out in the woods at night” he commented.

"Well I have my reasons" you sternly replied as you folded your arms.

"What, are you an escaped convict or something? Have you got a bunch of bandits hiding in the trees ready to strike me down" he mocked as he rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"I wish, all you need to know is that I'm a fugitive and I don't have a lot of time to waste dilly dallying with an egocentric jerk like you, now if you excuse me I have to get back on my journey" you explained through a clenched jaw as you tried to storm of only for him to grab your wrist.

"Aw come on, I didn't mean for you to get the wrong idea… if you need help I can give it to you, how about I take you back to my castle? I can make sure whatever you're trying to get away from doesn't find you" he offered but you shook your head profusely as you pulled your hand away from him.

"No, I can't… it's impossible" you replied abruptly.

"Why-" he was going to ask before you cut him off.

"Because I can't…" you said bluntly as you put your hands on your hips.

"Well whatever is going on with you I can Help… I promise you, just tell me what you want?" He said as looked at you with such a needy attitude.

"Perhaps you could bring me some food, it's rather hard forging in the woods" you said, when you offered an inch he took a mile.

"Of course I'll bring you some food, I'll bring you some every night" he offered before realising how late he'd been out.

"I should probably head back home now my swan, tomorrow I'll return" he said as he kissed you on the cheek before leaving you alone once more. He thought calling you his swan was endearing but it only made you since as it reminded you of who you had escaped.

He seemed absolutely infatuated with you. It clicked in your mind that maybe if you loosened up to him, maybe he would vow his love to you.

As written in Kars notes the victim must have another that is unaware of the curse proclaim their love to them and keep their promise til they wed. All you needed was to keep up the loving act until you married him and hide the curse.

#yandere jjba #yandere x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere #fairy tale au #yandere kars #yandere joseph joestar

69 notes · View notes

alaskasmonsters · 3 years

Text

No Strings to Hold us Down | Takami Keigo

(spoilers for chapter 299 ahead!)

requested by @waffleareniceandfluffy: can I request a hawks x reader where yk how ehe in the car with best jeanist faked his death all that yeah and he says he’s free of his shackles can you do where they’re both free and they discuss his backstory (reader is childhood friend she knows about his abuse) and can you include any other thing chapter 299 with him as like can u make it hella angsty but with a little fluff and definitely a fluff ending.

part two

pairing: takami keigo x fem!reader

w.c: 4.269

warnings: spoilers for ch. 299, some amount of angst (with happy ending), mentions of neglectful parents

a.n: so this took me a hot minute and i’m so sorry you had to wait for so long! it’s also like 4 k words and i don’t know how or when that happened i-... i hope it’s angsty enough and i hope you like it! please enjoy :) <3

The silence hung thickly in the air of the freshly washed car, weighing heavily on you. A glance to the side told you that Keigo was still asleep, head propped up against the window.

He’d fallen asleep as soon as you’d taken off from the hospital, the only sign he was still alive was the even lifting and lowering of his chest.

You knew he was fine, Keigo was the most stubborn person you knew and as long as he hadn’t given up yet, there was nothing that could keep him from going on. Still, there was this little voice at the back of your head, barely an itch, that urged you to make sure just once more, if he was still alive, still breathing, still going.

He’d taken a lot of damage during his battle with Dabi. The villain hadn’t held back, hadn’t even hesitated when he’d burned his wings off, almost ruining the cells in his shoulder blades they were sprouting from beyond fixing, before he had moved on to his face and neck, leaving nasty burn marks behind wherever his hands had reached.

You remembered when you had stormed into his room, ignoring everyone who told you to take care of your own injured first, to take it slow, saying Keigo needed rest now, and you had first laid eyes on his battered form. The bandages covering his body, the absence of his wings, the peaceful look on his burned face as he was still sleeping soundly.

For a moment, a never ending moment, you had thought he was dead. You wouldn’t have known what to do then, when Keigo had actually left you behind, all alone in a big cold world, a world even colder without his silly jokes and genuine smiles. It had been awful, that feeling of dread, heavy and suffocating, that had taken a grip on your throat and squeezed.

Then the beeping of the vital signs monitor had reached your eyes, barely audible through the ringing of your ears and the loud beating of your eyes and you’d been able to breathe again.

Since then you hadn’t left Keigo’s side, even denied Best Jeanists help when he’d suggested to accompany the two of you. He’d wanted to drive, since you were still heavily injured, but you’d denied.

It felt too personal, visiting the house of Keigo’s mother, a woman you’d only met once before but had heard too many stories about, to not be by Keigo’s side when he had to face her after years of separation.

Luckily, Best Jeanist had realized this and instead agreed to meet you back at the hospital later, leaving Keigo and you alone on your ride to your destination.

Out of the corner of your eyes you saw your friend’s body stirring, straightening out of his hunched over position, his eyes blinking open tiredly before he seemed to recognize where he was.

“I’m sorry. I fell asleep,” the robotic voice of the translation app he was using, chimed through the car.

Another reminder of how close Dabi had gotten to him, you thought.

You glanced at him, your eyes falling on the muzzle he was wearing that prevented him from using his voice.

You smiled at him, hands tightening their grip on the steering wheel as you stopped at a red light.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re alright.”

You seemed to repeat yourself around him a lot since he’d woken up. “It’s okay.”, “I’m glad you’re alright.”, “How are you feeling?”. At this point you felt like a broken record. If he noticed, Keigo didn’t mention it.

“I’m glad that everything with Best Jeanist went smooth,” the voice chimed back.

You remembered when Keigo told you about it. The plan involved Best Jeanist. Before he’d even asked the man himself about it. He probably hadn’t been allowed, the commission usually forbade any exchange of important information between the two of you, but Keigo never cared.

He had always told you anything, it’s been like that since forever.

The rest of the 40 minute ride was endured in silence. Keigo was looking out of the window, eyes unfocused, and you tried to focus your attention back on the street. The concerned voice was pushed to the back again.

You arrived soon after, parking the car in an empty spot and exiting the vehicle together with Keigo. The mansion at the end of the street caught your eyes immediately and you were once again impressed how much money the commission was willing to spend to keep their little pet obedient.

“Is that it?” you asked, covering your eyes against the blinding winter sun.

“Inside that house,” Keigo assured, passing you without giving you a second glance.

You let out a sigh, sensing his nervousness, maybe even fear to see his mother again. Locking the car, you followed after him, stomach churning with something you could only identify as dread.

When you arrived at the door Keigo rummaged around in his pockets before he pulled out a key card. He hesitated, grip tight around the little piece of plastic, before turning to you and typing a few words into his translation app.

“Before I fully recover and show my face again...you know there is something I need to be sure of.”

Maybe he felt like he had to explain himself, as if you didn’t already know exactly why he came all the way here to see his mom again after he hadn’t even bothered to keep in touch with her the last few years. His eyes were searching your face, hand on the handle and you gave him a soft nod.

“I know,” you replied quietly.

He opened the door wide and you entered the house.

It looked just as spacey and clean as the outside let suspect. The interior was beautifully put together, the furniture was expensive looking and excessive. It looked all very tidy and you knew that the way everything was decorated has probably been the work of interior designers.

Something about the fact that the place reminded you strangely of where Keigo was living stuck with you. His apartment was just as clean, just as nicely decorated by the hands of strangers, just as well put together.

How ironic.

The similarity of it. Mother and son both separated and still connected through the hands of the commission, the organisation the woman sold her son to.

It made you feel sick, no matter how much Keigo acted like it didn’t bother him, it just seemed to anger you twice as much.

How these people working for the Hero Public Safety Commission managed to make it appear all nice and clean from the outside, sweeping all the unpleasant details under the rug. They made Keigo the perfect hero, paid off his mother and ensured their comfort, ensured your comfort to him. Only to have the man in their debt.

The commission loved how close you and Keigo were, if only to use your friendship against you and use it to their advantage. Although it had only been him they had taken in, fixed up and trained for years, you were just as much controlled by them as he was. Due to your friendship.

They didn’t think of you as talented or as perfect as him. Hawks was charming, impressive, loved by the public, the number two hero! You weren’t even in the Top Twenty, your quirk wasn’t as flashy as most of Japan’s Top Heroes’ and you weren’t as loved by the public either.

You were only useful to them when it came to the dirty work, keeping Keigo in line that was (and you hated it hated it hated it), being the one responsible when he had to get punished after a mistake he made because it was on you when you didn’t pay enough attention, wasn’t it?

And only because the two of you had been childhood friends. Because you knew Keigo better than anybody else in this world, even himself. Keigo did have no issue sacrificing himself, burning himself out in the process if that meant he did a good job. You were the one who had to ensure he was at peak performance at all times.

Of course, being the commission, they had also used their sources (you didn’t believe it was Keigo who had told them, he would have never done as much) to uncover your awful past and find out about your family home just to use those things against you. As leverage. As if Keigo’s safety and wellbeing wasn’t motivation enough.

Your past was filled with pain and regrets.

Your mom, who’d left you with your dad after you were born and your dad who’d turned to alcohol and drugs to numb the pain.

The man had neglected everything. His health, his job, his life...you. So it had been your responsibility to keep the both of you afloat. You had started shoplifting when you were merely old enough to tell the difference between left and right. Everything you’d stolen, you’d taken to keep your dad and you alive.

The commission knew about this and liked to use it against you. It didn’t matter that you’d only been a child, old enough to know better for sure but too young to see any other possibilities for your hopeless situation.

You had met Keigo back then, too, when you’d been 7 and he’d been 8, after you had stolen from a small shop and accidentally caused havoc when you were caught and ran away, causing two cars to crash into each other when you’d crossed the street without looking, which forced one of them to swerve the other way so it wouldn’t hit you.

Keigo had found you hiding behind a group of trash cans in an alleyway crying, saying his feathers had tingled and that’s how he knew something had happened in the city. He had wanted you to return what you’ve stolen but when you had told him in tears about your situation and begged him not to tell anyone he had taken pity on you. Making a promise to not snitch on you if you were being more careful.

That’s how you’d become friends.

Although he’d gotten in trouble for leaving his house, beaten and screamed at by his paranoid piece of garbage of a father, who believed he’d tried to rat him out or something...That didn’t stop Keigo from seeing you again.

You would both sneak out in the middle of the night to see each other, meeting in forests and on playgrounds all around the town. He’d share food with you or bring you little things he’d managed to sneak from his dad’s newest gig.

Since that day in the dirty alleyway, Keigo had never stopped taking care of you. The both of you felt connected through your abusive fathers and (in Keigo's case emotionally) absent mothers. You both had scars you'd rather hide with everyone but never each other and you both felt lost, unable to be yourself in a home you didn't belong in.

You had realized, even at your young age, that you could never let him leave because you’d never find a person like him ever again.

So when the commission got involved, when they took him away, isolated him from his old environment, which involved you as well, your heart broke.

Although Keigo, sweet caring Keigo (who now had to go by Hawks. Commission’s orders.) still never entirely left you. He’d asked the commission for one more favor beside taking care of his mother and him. They had to ensure your safety, get you away from your father and into a better household.

You were the very first person he’s saved and although he tried to downplay it you knew he was proud of the fact that it held him together on days he didn’t feel much like a hero.

These days, it was rather often...

The house remained silent, the calls of the robotic voice for Keigo’s mother echoing through the big room.

No answer followed.

You looked around the room, noticing that what you had called clean before was really just the absence of everything that was supposed to tell someone that this mansion was inhabited. No dirty dishes, no books or newspapers lying around, not even a glass of water on the sink.

“Do you think she left overnight?” you asked, strolling around.

Keigo didn’t answer your question so you turned around to see him standing with his back to you, something clutched into his hand. Curious of what he had found you stepped up from behind him to look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of what looked like a letter addressed to Keigo.

From his mother.

“Did Dabi use people for this...? How did he even get this far...?”

You hummed softly, reaching up to grasp his shoulder tightly. Keigo had already suspected that it must have been his mother to tell Dabi or people Dabi sent about his real name and family background. Still you knew there was a little part of him that had hoped this not to be true.

Now, though, with the letter that his mom left behind in her abandoned home, there was no doubt about it.

His shoulders sacked and his body hunched over as he let out a deep sigh, barely audible through the muzzle.

“Guess it really was my mother that leaked it then,” for some reason even the robotic voice sounded heartbroken about the fact.

You reached up to card your fingers through the hair at the back of his head, or rather the part that wasn’t covered by bandages.

“I’m sorry, Kei,” you mumbled lowly.

He leaned into your touch and let out another deep sigh, the tiredness that had been edged into his features ever since he had woken up in the hospital bed seemed even more prominent now under the cold lights of the living room.

“When the name “Takami” had been taken from me, the relationship between my mother and i had finally disappeared. I had always thought i was fine with that,” he explained, the robotic voice breaking the silence again.

“What i thought of as being saved was just me turning my back on everything. Even on you, y/n.”

You looked up in surprise at his words, staring at the back of his bandaged head with furrowed brows.

“You’ve never turned your back on me, Keigo,” you assured him, giving his shoulder another squeeze.

How he could even think that he’d ever done as much was beyond confusing to you.

Keigo reached to put his hand on your hand, the skin warm against yours and the touch comforting. He tightened his grip ever so slightly.

“Yes I did,” the speech assistant continued, “After we’ve met again a few years back, I’ve run from you, kept my distance, because you represented what i wanted to be but couldn’t.”

After we met again a few years back.

You’d seen him in the news one day, when you were still training in hero school, and recognized him immediately as your childhood friend, even after all the years you’d been separated.

The huge red wings were a distinct tell.

You had run out of the Starbucks, leaving behind your freshly ordered drink to where you’d heard the incident had occurred. Out of breath and disheveled from all the running you’d gotten there just in time to reunite with Keigo for the first time in years.

Since then you’d never left him out of your sight again, too scared you’d end up losing him again.

Hearing Keigo say that he’d tried the complete opposite, keeping a distance to you because of what you’d represented, something he wanted to be but couldn’t...what did that even mean?

“A guy who helps people...”

Your hand felt cold when Keigo dropped his own again, letting it hang off to his side.

“That’s the only thing that’s returned. Actually it’s refreshing,” he continued.

The air around you felt heavy, suffocating, just like earlier in the car, just like when you’d stepped into his hospital room. Although now the reason for it was a completely different one.

“What do you mean?” you asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper.

“The commission is currently at a stand still, y/n, in total dysfunction.”

You swallowed thickly at the reminder. The commission, the one thing haunting the both of you whenever you were with each other, the organization holding Keigo in an iron clasp and ensuring his obedience with your help...since the Jaku Hospital Raid, since Dabi exposed Endeavor and Hawks, the number 1 and number 2 heroes of Japan, they’d been silent.

Scarily so.

“There is no one to give me orders anymore. And they won’t be able to control you anymore either. I won’t let them.”

You took a step back away from the man when you noticed how violently he smashed the screen, his shoulders tense and the recovering wings under his jacket bulking.

“Keigo...” you tried weakly.

“They won’t get to abuse your kindness anymore, have you chained to me..”

You didn’t have to see the look in his face to know what emotion was displayed on it, neither did you have to hear his voice.

Your heart dropped at the words, at the bitterness he so desperately wanted to put into them but couldn’t because of his injured throat.

“Keigo,” you repeated, this time with more insistence.

“I know why you did it. You wanted to return the favor. I saved you, you save me,” the electronic voice sounded awfully smug all out of the sudden.

Your stomach twisted, a horrible hot sensation built in your chest and you had to clench your jaw to stop yourself from saying the first thing to come to mind.

Which would have been an insult.

You clenched your fists, pinned them to your side as you stared at Keigo’s back, your face twisted into an ugly expression.

“No, fuck that,” you spit, “how dare you?”

His face came into view when he turned half to look at you over his shoulder, eyebrows lifted in surprise at your outbreak.

You snarled, unable to contain the hurt as tears started to build behind your eyes.

You’d always been an emotional crier and you really hated it.

“It’s not about a favor. Don’t say shit like that.”

Hawks cocked his head, eyeing you for a moment before he fully turned towards you. His posture was more relaxed than before but there was a question behind his eyes.

He lowered his glance only to type in the next words...

“What? You care about me so much, sweetheart?”

You scoffed, wiping at your eyes in frustration.

“You know i do, stupid bird brain,” you said, still angry.

How could he even believe for a second that you endured the commission’s whining and yammering out of guilt. How could he not know how much you cared for him after all the years you’d been by his side now, after all the times you’d been there for him.

Keigo grasped your wrist, stopping your frantic wiping to push them away and make place for his own hands, thumbs softly brushing the wetness from your cheeks.

He found your eyes, his own wrinkling at the edges.

“No chains left,” the phone chimed.

You watched in anticipation as Keigo reached behind him, hands moving to his neck, and removed loosened the clasp, pulling the muzzle off.

Now you could see the smile, too.

“To shackle us down,” he told you with a hoarse voice.

“Kei,” you scolded him, looking down at the muzzle between his fingers.

You took a step towards him, closing the distance between you. Then you reached forward to gently run your fingers down his throat. The fabric of the bandages was rough against your fingers.

Hopefully he hadn’t started talking too soon.

“Y/n.”

You looked up at him and caught his eyes that were staring down at you with a determination you’d seen directed at you so often before, but couldn’t deny they had still the same effect on you as if it were the first time. Making your head all dizzy, that was.

“When we’re driven into corners, we find liberation. That’s when a true person’s nature rears its head. That’s why Bubaigawara was such a great guy,” he explained, gripping your wandering fingers into his hand, holding them close.

“At heart, he was desperate to be a help to others. I also want to be like that.”

You smiled up at him, squeezing his skin between yours.

“You’re already like that, Kei. You’ve always taken care of me, haven’t you?” you teased, hoping to ease the tension between the two of you a little.

“I think it was more the other way around, y/n.”

“I don’t-“

“Without you...i would have never known what it is like to have someone care for you. To have someone by your side no matter what. To understand...i think i would have never understood what it meant to love.”

You froze, staring up at Keigo with wide eyes. He tightened his grip around your hand, feeling that you wanted to draw back, instead keeping you close, thumb softly stroking the back of your hand as a way of calming you down.

“I think i love my mother, but that’s more out of obligation than anything,” he explained, searching your eyes but you couldn’t tell what he was looking for, “I never feel like i have to be anything than me when i’m with you. Nothing about being with you feels forced, or like it’s an obligation. It’s just...us.”

The room was spinning suddenly as you felt something cold wash over you. Your chest tightened, your heart daring jump out with every harsh beat against your ribcage.

He couldn’t be saying what he was saying...right?

He didn’t mean that. He couldn’t mean that.

“Keigo...are you saying you love me? As in...in love with me?” you wanted to laugh, just a little, to lighten the mood, but it got stuck in your throat on its way out.

Unlike you the man in front of you looked calm, not at all deterred by your panicked state.

“Yeah, I do. I think I have for a while now, but i didn’t fully realize until recently.”

Still gripping your hand in his left one he raised the other to your face, gently cupping your cheek. You leaned into the touch instinctively.

A faint smile tugged at his lips at your action.

“It’s alright if you don’t return my feelings, but I think you do.”

You frowned in thought.

You’ve never thought of the man in front of you as anything else than just Keigo, the kind hearted boy whom you met in a dirty alleyway, the one that brought a little girl food and presents every now and then. The teenager who wrote letters once in a while to keep you up-to-date. The man who you spend your free days with, eating chicken and watching movies.

You meant it when you’d said you wouldn’t leave his side, not if you had any say in the matter. Now, you weren’t entirely sure what you meant with that.

Stay with him? Forever?

Maybe Keigo was right.

He was always able to read you better than anybody else, just like you were the one to know him best as well. That’s also why he noticed your inner turmoil just by looking at your screwed up face.

“May i kiss you?”

Your breath hitched, warmth spreading through your chest as your heart fluttered in your ribcage.

“Yeah.”

His lips were warm against yours, the touch soft and delicate. Like he was testing the waters, giving you the opportunity to pull away if you wanted to.

The feeling was foreign to you. You had kissed other people before, quick pecks, sloppy kisses, passionate making out...But this, this felt different to all of them.

He kissed you gently, carefully, holding you with a delicacy you weren’t used to.

Your heart pounded in your chest as your knees suddenly grew weak, hand reaching out to curl around the back of Keigo’s head, urging him even closer.

He pulled you in, accepting the closeness happily as he deepened the kiss. The taste of toothpaste invaded your mouth.

Your mind went blank, the only coherent thought you were able to grasp was that you were making out with Keigo...in his mom’s house.

How ironic.

Your lips tingled when the two of you parted again, the aftertaste of peppermint lingering on your tongue. The warmth in your chest had spread to your face and you weren’t sure if you were blushing out of embarrassment or glowing because wow...that was something.

Keigo was staring down at you with an undefinable look in his eyes, but he looked happy, content like this and it made something in your chest flutter softly.

You did that.

“I-“ you started but the wide grin spreading on your face against your will, growing despite your attempts to suppress it with a bite to your tongue, made your voice die with a squeak.

The man chuckled, the outline of his wings moving under the fabric of his jacket and the thought of Keigo ruffling his wings joyfully in response to your obvious happiness...you wanted to kiss him silly.

“I think i love you, too, Keigo.”

He might have been the happiest bird man in the whole entire world when you said those words and for a moment...just one small moment, you really felt like the two of you could be free.

Taglist: @crystal-lilac

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