#i think about You Would Die Before Your Stroke Fell um. often

[sweeethinny]

Second son

Summary: ‘You ran away from home?’

‘When I was about sixteen,’ said Sirius. ‘I’d had enough.’

‘Where did you go?’ said Harry, staring at him.

‘Your dad’s place,’ said Sirius. ‘Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son.’

or

Sirius runs away from home, and we see it through Euphemia Potter's eyes.

kind of inspired by @questions-forthe-marauders perfect art! HERE

AO3

-------

December 23, 1976 - 5:25PM

Euphemia did her best not to cry when Minerva's letter arrived at her house.

‘’Mia,

I know what I'm going to ask of you is totally irrational and you have every right to ignore my request and yell at me, but I don't see any other way out.

I've been noticing for a few weeks that Sirius has been acting weird and seems to be distant from everyone. A few days ago I noticed a bruise on the corner of his mouth, but I can't tell if it was a fight with his brother or someone else, you know how boys are at that age.

Anyway, I've noticed that it's been a few months since his detention has been signed by his parents anymore, and I've tried contacting them but Dumbledore keeps saying there's nothing to worry about - you know him, he's terrible at times.

I think there's something wrong with him, and I know Sirius comes to your house during the holidays because I always hear James talking about it, so I came through this letter asking that if you notice anything strange, please tell me. Or talk to Sirius to see if you can find anything.

I'm very worried.

Love, and I'm sorry to bother you with this,

Minerva.''

It hurt her heart more than she thought it would, noticing that the signs Minnie had said were all right there under her nose. James hadn't said anything about Sirius coming for Christmas, and he'd been there for two years now, even though she felt a little bad that he wasn't with his parents on that date. And James looked weird too; he was angrier than usual, and reluctant to talk to them and getting locked in his room.

When they were at the station, Mia noticed that Sirius had got off the train alone and looked guilty, not even looking in their direction as he walked over to where his parents were - who didn't look at all happy with his presence there.

He had already told Monty a few times that his parents didn't like him going to Gryffindor, and James had once told her that Sirius didn't get along with Regulus. But Euphemia always thought it was silly things that teenagers took too seriously, but now, she felt she should have given more importance to the signs.

“Sirius isn't coming?” she asked when she saw James coming down the stairs, an unusually sulky look.

"I don't know," was all he said, walking into the kitchen and leaving her alone in the living room. Her heart clenched, a bad feeling burning in her chest.

"Didn't he tell you anything?" James always liked to talk about everything with Euphemia, Monty said he was a big mama's boy, but she didn't mind at all. As long as he was going to look for her to get her opinion, Euphemia would be only too happy to help him.

"He just said he didn't know if he was coming." James walked out of the kitchen, a glass of milk and a cookie jar under his arm, but when he threatened to go back up to the bedroom, she stopped him.

"Come here." James didn't like being confronted, he'd inherited it from her, and he used to frown when someone demanded answers from him. But Euphemia had no choice but to do that, so he was going to need to spit it out. ‘’Is something going on? Did you guys fight?” she asked, folding the letter and placing it on the coffee table with Minnie's name down, not wanting James to know she already knew. This made it difficult for him to speak.

"No." He sat up, sullen as he always was when she did that. James didn't meet her eyes however, and that was a red light for her. He was one of those people who didn't mind looking anyone in the eye unless he was lying.

‘’You know you can talk to me, don't you? I care about you two.”

"We don't…" He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the sofa cushions, the glass of milk and cookies forgotten on the coffee table. ''He was being an idiot the last few days, I don't know what got into him, but I was ignoring it because I don't know, he gets like that sometimes when he and Regulus fight, but then the christmas thing came up and I said if he continued in that mood he wouldn't be welcome here,'' James denied, pulling his hair angrily. ''I thought he'd know I was joking, of course he's welcome here, but then he got mad and told me he wasn't coming to bother me this year, and I yelled that it would be great so… I got mad, I wasn't thinking… so he got out of our wagon and went to Merlin knows where. I only saw him when we got off the train, and he was already going with his parents.'’

‘’Oh, son…’’

''I know I shouldn't have said that, but he was being an idiot, and now... I hope he doesn't hate me.'' Euphemia wanted to go to that hideous Black house to drag Sirius under her wing, force him and James to talk and make up, and bring him in with them. But Monty had already told her that this was illegal.

"He doesn't hate you, son." She opened her arms for James to hug her, stroking his hair and thinking about what she could do with the situation. "Did you say he and Regulus had a fight?"

"They...um," Of course James was too faithful to tell her about that. Too noble to betray his best friend. ‘’Kind of a fight.’’

“Does Sirius often fight with him a lot?” She remembered when they had once met Walburga and Orion at an event, and only Regulus was with them.

"Where's Sirius?" she had asked, because it didn't make sense to take just one child. And Sirius was what, twelve or thirteen at the time?

"He preferred to stay with my sister," Walburga said, smiling bitterly at Euphemia as if silently telling her not to meddle where she wasn't called.

She swallowed, thinking maybe she was seeing trouble where it didn't exist. Maybe he really wanted to stay with his aunt, she couldn't prove otherwise.

‘’Send him a letter later inviting him to our Christmas, okay? If you want,” she said, looking once more at Minnie's letter on the table.

"Fine."

December 24, 1976 - 10:54PM

It was snowing like never before outside, probably the coldest night this year so far, and the house was silent when she woke up to noises outside.

Monty jumped out of bed, wand in hand, just as she had, heart pounding in her chest and a motherly fear of protecting James at all costs from whatever was out there.

Ever since they declared support for muggleborns and as she and Fleamont began to increasingly advocate for minorities and help organizations of students who couldn't afford to buy supplies and clothing for the Hogwarts school years, they were marked as a target for the other traditional families, carrying a huge red flag where ''traitors'' was written in bold letters.

Euphemia couldn't care less about that, she was more than happy to be considered a traitor if it meant she was doing good.

“What was that?” James muttered, haunted brown eyes staring like he was going to war.

Her son didn't go to war, though, not when he couldn't even drink yet.

‘’Stay in the room, and get the portkey. Anything, use it!” She instructed him, but James seemed too stubborn to accept that. "James, enter your room now, and stay there."

“Three is better than two.” He continued to follow them, Monty further along and having already made a protective barrier between him and her and James.

‘’Not when one of them is fifteen. Now come in and stay there, me and your dad let's see what's going on.'

''Mom-''

"Don't make me need to use magic to get you to do what I want." She said authoritatively, and that caused James to fall back a few steps, looking at her startled. Euphemia mentally thanked him for that and walked downstairs, thinking that later she would apologize for talking to him like that, but that's because she wasn't risking her boy in that situation.

Monty raised his wand and opened the door, ready to attack whoever was there on the other side, but before he could, Sirius raised his arms and closed his eyes as if he too was waiting to be attacked. ‘’Sirius?!’’

‘’I'm sorry, I-’’

''What did we do on our last trip?'' Fleamont asked, and as much as Euphemia thought it was unnecessary - please just bring the boy inside he'll freeze! - she knew they were in the middle of a war.

''You tried to learn to surf with me and James, but you nearly broke your ankle when you fell.'' Sirius kept his arms raised, and she noticed that his lips were purple from the cold, and that jacket didn't seem to warm him. She didn't even wait for Monty to lower his wand and went over to him, pulling Sirius into their house and hugging him tightly, wanting more than anything to take away whatever inner pain seemed to haunt him.

He looked too terrified for a sixteen-year-old boy.

"What happened, Pads?" James ran up to them, looking worried about him too. ‘’You didn't even answer my letter and-’’

''I...I ran away from home.'' He shrugged and avoided looking her or Monty in the eye, Euphemia realized he had a backpack on his back. Her heart ached so much that she couldn't stop the tears. She pulled Sirius even tighter against her. "Mia, if I can't stay here, it's okay, it's just that I came walking-"

‘’Did you walk all the way here?! It's almost an hour and a half of walking, boy!” Monty yelled. "Someone could have tried something against you."

''It was okay, I,'' Sirius looked at James, and she knew he wasn't telling her all the details and he'd probably done something against the law to not die in the snow, but she didn't care about that now. "It was the first place I thought of coming."

‘’Of course, dear, of course. James, make him a hot bath, and Monty heat up dinner… are you hungry, Sirius?” He nodded, cheeks burning with embarrassment. ''Here, come sit in front of the fireplace… And of course you can stay here, please, I don't even want to think that you thought I wouldn't accept you.'' She sighed, walking with him to the sofa and taking off the wet jacket he wore, waving her wand so that the nearly extinguished fire began to crackle again, warming the room. "You can live with us Sirius, don't worry, you don't have to go back to those horrible people anymore." His gray eyes blinked with tears, and it was probably the first time she'd seen Sirius cry. ‘’Don't worry honey, you're fine now…’’

----

‘’Minnie,

I'm so glad you warned me about this, and I understand your concern.

Sirius ran away from home last night, he didn't want to tell us what happened and I think at some point I'll know, but the boy looks terrified now.

He's not okay, but he's going to be. And I've already sent a letter to Dumbledore telling him that now anything that happens to him is to call us.

I don't think Walburga or Orion will complain, they let their son run away in the middle of a blizzard and so far they haven't looked for him. But it's better this way, Monty would probably kill them if they showed up at our door.

You know that we always wanted to have one more child anyway.

With love,

Euphemia.’’

#james potter #marauders headcanon #marauders era #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #sirius black #my fic #the marauders era

[buckysgoldenheart]

Unexpectedly Bitten

Vampire!Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Your ex gets into some trouble with Vampires, and his mistakes lead the bloodsuckers back to you. After seeing you, one vampire gets a little attached and he’s taking his time deciding what he plans to do with you, but whatever it is, you’re not afraid. In fact, you might just be a little attached to him too.

Warnings: cursing, smut, violence. (Count on spelling mistakes or repeating words too often. it’s very likely.)

Notes: Folks I did my very very best. I am so bad at chaptered fics, it’s insane. But I tried. As always,  Let me emphasize this: there is little rhyme or reason to the way this story is broken into parts. 

This is a Vampire!Henry x Reader story where each chapter, while chronological, is a different conversation or event during the course of their evolving relationship. 

Words: 1606

Part 7: Change

You were breathing. That’s what Henry kept repeating in his head when he relived that horrible night in his sleep. His body would shoot out of bed, drenched in sweat, and he would have the agonizing thought that he failed. But then he would look to his left, and there you were. You were breathing.

His days were filled with watching you to constantly reassure himself that he hadn’t lost you forever. Every time your breath hitched in your sleep, his did as well. Every time he nearly dozed off in his chair, he shook himself awake for fear that the change hadn’t fully taken hold; that maybe he was too late after all.

“She doing any better?” Henry nearly leapt from his seat at Chris’s voice. His friend walked over after shutting the door quietly behind him.

Henry ran a hand down his face. He needed to relax. He was getting jumpy. “Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Chris pulled another chair up to Henry’s side and joined in monitoring the rise and fall of your chest. “Are you alright? It’s been a while.”

“This is my fault,” Henry rubbed at his brow with a groan. “I cut it too close. It’s taking too long for her to heal.”

“Do not hate yourself for this, Hen,” Chris said, lightly slapping his friend on the back. “She’s alright. I would’ve done the same if I still had a pretty little human I was so desperately in love with.”

“She’s not human anymore.”

“You didn’t have a choice.”

Henry shook his head, denying his friend’s answer to feel the full weight of disappointment in himself. “Elias seemed to think the same, but…not from the same perspective.” He took a deep breath as he remembered the look in the Lord’s eyes right before he broke your neck. There was pity there; acknowledgment of a loss he knew Henry would not get over for centuries, if at all. “He didn’t think I would turn her. He left her body there, knowing I could turn her before it was too late, but he was so sure I wouldn’t. Why, do you think?”

“Henry,” Chris whined with irritation. “Don’t start—”

“Because we don’t subject the ones we love to this life,” Henry said as he stared at you, then he looked to Chris. “You never turned Amara. You loved her as a human until she died because you knew she would be miserable if she were like us.”

Chris swallowed the pain; the discomfort in his gut at the reminder of the woman he would’ve crushed mountains into rubble for. “I agree, this is not an ideal life, but…take it from me. When you’re in love with a human, there is nothing more painful than seeing them age without you.” The blond cleared his throat, and his voice shook slightly as he continued. “I couldn’t give Amara a normal life. I couldn’t marry her or give her children untainted by vampire blood like she wanted. So, I honored her wishes and let her go on to find that human she married. But don’t think for a second that if someone killed her when she was mine, that I wouldn’t have bitten her to save her too. It’s not wrong to save the ones we love, Henry.”

Henry grunted like the stubborn mule both you and his friend knew he was.

“Look, Amara is not Y/N,” Chris said, pushing his friend to see the best in the choices made the day you died. “Y/N was the first human to love a vampire in centuries. She saw you as more than what you are. Do not take advantage of that gift. She is now like us. You can have her forever. There was a time when I would’ve given anything to have the same.”

Henry rose an eyebrow. “So, I’m being an unappreciative prick, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes,” Chris smirked, taking a drink from his glass, and standing. “But I won’t hold it against you.”

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

You woke with a massive arm draped over your abdomen. It felt like a heavy brick and you couldn’t get enough air, so you blindly shoved at it until lifted. The bed shook as you deeply inhaled, swallowing oxygen the way you would if your head just broke the surface of the ocean and you could finally feel the air on your skin.

“Oh, thank fuck,” You heard whispered from your left as two massive hands cupped your cheeks and turned your head. “Open your eyes, baby.”

You tried and winced when the tiniest bit of light seeped in, slamming them shut again to avoid the headache.

“It’s ok,” The voice said. “It’s ok. Try again, just take it slow.”

You did as asked, bracing yourself for the pain of it but powered on, blinking a few times until your view came into focus. “Henry?”

Your voice was gravelly and felt itchy in your throat, but by the way Henry’s face lit up, it might as well have been the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Hey,” He smiled, running a hand over the top of your head. Tears welled in his eyes; the blue orbs darting all over your face as he stroked your hair. One of the droplets fell on your cheek and Henry quickly kissed it away.

His lips were warm, and you sighed into the feeling, suddenly sinking into the curve of his body as it lay against yours. “I feel like I died and rose again,” You groaned as you stretched your limbs the best you could, testing their limits to alleviate the stiffness.

“You’ll feel better soon.” Henry kissed your forehead. “It just takes a little time.”

You tilted your face back from where it was pressed against his hard chest to look up at him with pinched eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

He grew uneasy, averting his gaze and shifting his body awkwardly without removing his arms from around you. “The, uh…transformation takes—”

“Transformation?” Your torso rose, surprisingly not aching the slightest.

Henry leaned up as well and cupped your cheek, savoring the feel of your skin in case you tried to kill him. You would have the strength for it now if you planned your attacks strategically. And if you hated him, he would accept your decision. He was selfish, after all, but he couldn’t let you go.

“Baby, you…you did die.” Your eyes widened and Henry internally cringed. “Elias killed you, and I bit you on, um…” He grabbed your wrist and brought it up to your face. “I bit your wrist. I changed you”

And sure enough, there were two faint dots on the inner side of your wrist; the marks shimmering to perfectly match the small cut on your finger.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

You looked at him. “Why?”

Henry moved to lay on his back. You could tell he was avoiding your eyes; that he was scared of your reaction to his next words. Crawling on top of him with unexpected ease, you straddled his waist and planted your hands firmly on his chest. You pressed down lightly, giving him a little jolt, when he had still hadn’t answered.

His eyes locked with yours and he wrapped his fingers around your forearms to keep your steady above him. “I just didn’t want to lose you. I’ve never been that scared in my life, and it made me—"

“No.” You shook your head. “Not why did you do it. I meant, why are you sorry you did? You want me, don’t you?” You didn’t ask for reassurance. You knew how he felt, but you wanted him to see that changing you was the only option if he wanted to be with you; and him wanting to have you would never be something you could punish him for. Being like him did not terrify you. It didn’t shock you into silence. Honestly, you didn’t feel all the different.

He sat up until you were face to face and wrapped his arms around your waist. One hands fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine. “More than anything.”

“Henry, I had nothing for me in that life,” You said as your hands settled on his shoulders. “Nothing.” Tipping your head down, you connected your lips and he moaned so deep his chest vibrated against yours.

“You’re really ok?” He asked when you pulled apart.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” You said.

A small laugh came out in the form of a puff of air, then he tucked his head down until his cheek was resting against your left breast. He sighed, but it came out more like a moan. “I love that sound.”

“You can still hear it?”

“Only when I’m this close,” He said, nipping at the skin and nuzzling into your chest. “You’ll just have to tell me how you feel about me from now on.”

You smiled, but then your face fell serious. “Henry?”

“Hmm?”

“What now?”

He pulled back as he took in a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. “Now the change fully takes hold. Your eyesight will increase, you’ll get stronger every day, your fangs will come in soon, and you’ll hate it because you’re going to be biting your tongue fifteen times a day for about a week.”

You grimaced, but chuckled.

“There are a few other things, but we’ll deal with them as they come, not now. Other than that, not much else,” He said, framing your face with his hands. “You’re mine now, baby. And I’m yours.”

“Just like that, huh?”

“Just like that.” He grinned and pressed his lips to yours.

---

Tags:  @agniavateira​ @tumblenewby @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @summersong69​ @starlite13​ @mstgsmy​ @purplelove75​ @defffcc​ @the-soot-sprite​ @kissthatlifeaway @atomicpaperhairdouniversity​ @aquariuslavenderhoney​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @the-problem-of-leisure​ @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair​ @readermia​ @angelofthorr​ @itmejado​ @caro-jean​ @raven-black102​ @itty-bitty-dancer​ @grungeisntmything​ @wolfiepirate​ @scuzmonkie @heartfullofl @wanderlustkitkat @maan24​ @furievonalexandria​ @posiemax​ @sweetybuzz25​ @iamthetwickster

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill angst #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fics #henry cavill fanfics #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill oneshot #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill au #henry cavill vampire #vampire henry #vampire!henry

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 11 - Zombies and Vampires and Werewolves, Oh My

Chapter 1     Chapter 10

“Are we ready?” Dick asked, looking to Marinette instead of looking around because ultimately, it was more a matter of whether she was comfortable and felt prepared than what they had.  He really didn’t care about the movie or the snacks. He was just ecstatic to have Marinette in his arms and without worrying about making her feel like throwing up if he touched her wrong, or at all, or even looked at her.

Marinette looked around, taking stock of their supplies in the dark room.  They had their huge bowl of popcorn, some chips, cookies she had made for them to snack on, disgusting looking cheap candy that Dick liked pushed as far away from her as it could be, she mentally thanked God she was almost completely over her morning sickness, otherwise she’d already be throwing up due to the smell alone, water, sodas, and ginger ale in the refrigerator.  They had enough supplies to feed an entire group and she recognized that, but she couldn’t stop herself from going overboard for Dick.

“I think we’re ready.” She nodded firmly. “We’re ready for an entire movie marathon if we wanted,” she chuckled self-consciously.  

Dick smiled and pulled her closer against himself. “I’m okay with that.  As long as you’re cuddled up against me and I can sneak kisses from time to time, I’ll be happy.”

She grinned up at him.  “Who says you have to sneak them?”

Dick grinned at the invitation and leaned down to give her a slow, sweet kiss.  He pulled away, gazing into her eyes affectionately and rubbing her cheek gently with his thumb.  “Are you comfortable?  Do you need another pillow?”

Marinette giggled and looked around them.  “Dick, I think we’re good.  I think if we stacked up the pillows, they’d be taller than me.”

Dick pouted.  “I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

She cupped his face and pulled him down for a sweet, chaste kiss.  “I know. Thank you.  It means a lot.  Now, what did you choose for the movie?”

Dick looked back to the television and started navigating to the show he wanted to watch.  “I thought we could maybe watch that zombie show everyone is talking about. I keep hearing how amazing it is. They just released the entire series so we could binge on it.”  Marinette tensed in his arms.  He looked back at her apprehensively.  “Or… we could watch something else.”

She looked up at him guiltily, a frown pulling the corner of her lips down.  She started fidgeting with her fingers.  “I’m sorry. I just… zombie stories… it just brings back some… um… flashbacks?”

Dick raised an eyebrow at her. “Flashbacks?  Flashbacks to what?”

“Paris.  Akuma. One of the most effective ones we had. She turned almost everyone in Paris into one of her zombies.”  She shuddered at the memory.

He nodded and ran his hands over her arms. “Millions of zombies wandering around wanting to get you… yeah, I can see how that would be terrifying,” he soothed in an understanding voice.

She shook her head.  “It wasn’t really the zombies that were so scary, it was… have you ever seen your friends give themselves up in order to give you a few extra seconds to get away?  That’s what I see.  Not the monster coming.  My friends falling.  The look in their eyes.  The blood. The…”  She stared at her hands for a few moments before glancing back up at him with a humorless smile.  “Sorry. I just brought down the tone of the night.”

He shook his head.  “No, not at all.  We’re supposed to be getting to know each other better, right?  This is a part of you I never knew about.  I want to know.  And, I have. Seen people give themselves up to save me, I mean.  Not a mindless monster, but… yeah, I’ve had friends and family put themselves in the path of a rogue or a henchman in order to give me time to escape.  It… it makes you feel unworthy.”

She nodded along with his words.  “Undeserving.”

He nodded in agreement.  “Even knowing I would make the same choice.  I’m sorry you had to go through that.”  He pulled her in for a hug and nuzzled into her hair to comfort her.  “Any other horror movie tropes we should stay away from?”  He tried to lighten the mood.

Marinette pulled away to think about it.  “Growing up in Paris is kind of like a double edged sword when it comes to horror movies.  They aren’t really scary anymore because we’ve seen them all in real life and the movies could never match how terrifying it is in real life, when your or your friends’ or family’s lives are actually at stake.  But on the other hand, it triggers flashbacks.  

“I mean we had zombies, obviously, werewolves, vampires, chainsaw wielders, ghosts, gremlins, invisible terrors, baby killers, like, babies that killed, literal nightmares come to life, apocalypses, firestarter, that one was particularly gruesome.  I couldn’t go near any kind of flames for months.  Mermaids, not the like, kid’s movie version.  The drag you under the water to drown you kind.  We’ve had shapeshifters, water monsters, dragons, dinosaurs… I think the only horror story creature we didn’t have is Frankenstein. But evil, deranged monster only concerned about his own desires, creating amalgamated creatures to enact his psychopathic will… yeah, almost daily.”

Dick stared at her blankly for a few moments, trying to process everything she just said. “… No horror movies, ever.  Got it.”  Dick nodded absentmindedly.  “I never knew it was that bad there.  Were you ever… did you ever… I mean… I don’t know what I mean.”  There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he didn’t know if he was ready to hear any of the answers.  He wasn’t ready to hear the suffering Marinette had gone through. She shouldn’t have had to have gone through any.

“There are so many questions that could be.  I’m going to need a bit more direction,” she chuckled mirthlessly.  “Did I ever get hurt?  Yes. Did I ever become an akuma? No.  Did I ever kill someone as an akuma?  Also no.  What did it feel like?  I don’t know. Was I the mermaid?  I wasn’t.  Did I get eaten by the dinosaur?  Eh.” She made a more or less motion with her hand.  “Did I ever date any of the heroes?  Pass.  Did I ever date any of the akumas?  Once, to distract him so Chat could get him.  Didn’t work.  Did I ever have to watch my family get hurt or killed?  So much.  Did I have to watch my friends get hurt or killed?  So often.  Did I ever die?”  She paused for a few seconds before shrugging in what she hoped was a nonchalant way. “Which one?”

Dick froze.  His chest stopped rising and falling.  He slowly licked his lips as he prepared them to form the words he didn’t want to say.  “Let’s start with have you ever died?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d miss that.  I wasn’t thinking when I said it and then couldn’t take it back.”  She looked away and took a deep breath.  “Depends on the timeline.  I don’t remember dying.  I’m pretty sure that was a different me?  Oh,” her face fell as if just remembering something.  “I guess this me died a few times too.  But I’m still here so that doesn’t count, right?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to formulate his reaction.  She had died. She was gone.  Why did everyone in his life die?  He would have never gotten the chance to meet her, to imagine their life together, their baby.  “… I’m pretty sure it does.  How… um… but…”  

“One of the ladybug miraculous’ powers is reversing the damage done by miraculous users, including deaths,” she explained calmly. “The Eifel Tower was destroyed and brought back sooo many times.”

Dick nodded at her words, not really registering them.  She had died and she was so calm about it.  He studied her more intently.  She was looking away, her body tense but trying to appear relaxed.  No, she wasn’t calm about it, she just wanted him to be calm. She didn’t want to scare him.  He took a deep breath and smiled for her, but still didn’t know what to say.  He hugged her closer instead.

She stared at the popcorn bowl for a moment and grabbed a handful, popping one of the kernels into her mouth.  “We even had a popcorn monster once.  That one was amazing though.  Like… have you ever seen the episode of Scooby Doo where the monster trapped them in a giant vat of Scooby Snacks or where the monster was a giant Cotton Candy glob?  It was like that.  Hilariously ineffective.  Everyone kind of enjoyed that one.  Alix set up a projector and put on an impromptu outside movie experience.”

She was making a joke.  She was trying to lighten the mood.  He could work with that.  “Well that,” he reached over and stole some popcorn from her, “sounds fun.  And that cure thing would be helpful.  It would certainly be useful to have here.”  She chuckled at his attempt.  “Okay, how about a comedy, or a romance, or a Disney movie?  Something happy.”

Marinette nodded.  “That sounds good.” She watched as he scrolled through the movie options. “Oooh, how about that one?  I love the Princess Bride.”

Dick smiled, “As you wish.”

She looked up at him with a curious expression, unsure if he understood the significance of the phrase.  She turned to the movie and snuggled further into his chest deciding he didn’t and that was okay.  It was still really early in their relationship.  There were things she loved about Dick and she loved being with him, but she didn’t know if she loved him.  She imagined he felt the same.  They were getting closer and she was positive they were going to get there.  Until then, she enjoyed all the time she got to spend with him.

He ran languid fingers over her arm as the movie started, enjoying the way her skin felt under his fingers, relishing that he could feel her.  That she was there warm in his arms, not laying cold and dead in a box.  He slowly moved his fingers to stroke her side and circle her hip, down along her thigh and back up, dipping across her lower back. She ran her fingers up and down his chest in response.  They slowly became firmer strokes, getting bolder and running along the hem of his shirt.

His touches slowly became more caressing and lingering, lengthening the path and getting brasher.  He grazed along her breast as his hand passed.  She swallowed heavily, pushing further into his chest and moved her leg over his, rubbing it up and down along his leg.  Their eyes were still focused on the movie, but neither was watching anymore.  They both waited for the other to be the first to break and move their supposedly innocent movie night into something more.

Dick was the first one to break when Marinette dipped her pinky just below the waistband of his pants as she traced his abs.  Not far enough to touch anything sensitive, but enough to send his mind racing and let him know she was interested in doing more than watching the movie.  He cupped her face, staring intently at her for a few seconds before diving in to kiss her. She melted into his kiss.  He moaned as her tongue slipped in to meet his. She pushed up to deepen the kiss and grant him more access to explore her body with his hands.

He pushed their stockpile of pillows out of the way and twisted them to lay her down on the couch.  Her hair splayed out on the remaining pillow and she looked up at him with half lidded eyes.  He traced the lines of her cheek and jaw, looking at her in amazement.  The light from the movie was reflecting off her hair and eyes.  She had pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she gazed up at him lustfully.  Her shirt was pulled down just enough to get a good view of her breasts and the top of her lacy bra.  Her hands were running up and down his sides and back causing shock waves of pleasure through him.  “God, you are so sexy,” he murmured almost subconsciously.  

Her lips formed a sultry smile as her hands found their way to his neck and brought him back down to her lips.  She whimpered as his lips caressed hers and his hands massaged her.  She reached down and started pulling on his shirt.  He caught her intention and ripped it off, throwing it away to the side. It landed over the television, obscuring their view of the movie neither had any intention of watching.

Chapter 12

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123

#maribat #Dickinette February #dickinette #Hope on Board #Knocked Up AU #platonic jasonette #platonic adrienette #prompt - pillows

[obwjam]

Ooo how about - 2. “It’s like you’re trying to get hurt at this point.” - maybe with obi wan? xx

“It’s like you’re trying to get hurt at this point.”

oh yes anon this is the STUFF. local sassy man is exhausted, sources say

from this post

———————————————————————-

“It’s like you’re trying to get hurt at this point.”

“Obi-Wan...” you sighed, looking down at your legs dangling in the air. You weren’t too fond of being grabbed, so Obi-Wan’s solution was to use the Force when you fell — and you fell often. “Do you have to do this every time?”

Obi-Wan didn’t even look up from the book he was reading. “Yes.”

“Please,” you rolled your eyes. “I was totally gonna make that jump!”

“It certainly didn’t look like it.”

“You always say that!” you protested, now crossing your arms as you jerked your body to face your Jedi friend. The light of the Coruscant sunset was bathing you in a pink and orange glow. “And you weren’t even looking this time!”

“Even you’d have to admit your track record is less than stellar,” Obi-Wan ignored your comment and smirked, hand barely outstretched as he kept you hovering a few feet from the ground. “Wasn’t it just last week that you tried to swing from the bookcase to the table and ended up on the ground instead?”

You huffed a breath. “That was a miscalculation.”

“And how many more miscalculations until you seriously injure yourself?”

“Come on, you know as well as I do that borrowers don’t get hurt as easily as humans.”

Obi-Wan finally looked up from his book. His expression wasn’t irked like you thought it might be — it was concerned. “(Y/n). That isn’t an excuse to do dangerous things.”

You shut your eyes as Obi-Wan stood up from his chair and kneeled down in front of you, pulling you from midair into his open palm. In all the time you had known Obi-Wan, you still could barely look up at him. The sheer size difference was something you figured you’d never get used to.

You refused to look up at Obi-Wan as he took a seat.

“Your stunts get more and more wild by the day,” he said quietly. “Is something the matter?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you grumbled. “Why would something be wrong?”

“You know I can tell when you’re lying,” Obi-Wan chuckled. “You’re not the first one to try getting one’s attention by acting out.”

You grimaced as you wrung your hands together.

“It’s not easy, you know. Being around you all the time.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head, trying to get a read on your expression. “(Y/n), what are you talking about?”

“You know! You’re—you’re this great, powerful Jedi master, who—who can move things with his mind and do incredible things. You think just because I’m small that I’m helpless and can’t do anything!”

“Missions are far too dangerous for you, and you know that!” Obi-Wan said sternly, rolling his eyes. It was another one of these conversations. He didn’t even notice your flinch when he raised his voice.

“But I could help!” you cried, standing up and balling your fists at your side. “I could—I could be a spy, or—or I could crawl into places you normally wouldn’t be able to reach!”

“(Y/n), people die on these missions! All the time! The clones who are bred for battle don’t often make it back. I can’t let you take that risk!”

“You don’t let me do anything! Sure, I’ve gotten hurt before, but you get hurt too! Everybody does!”

Obi-Wan groaned. This had to have been the fifth time this week you begged him to take you on a mission. He wasn’t in the mood to keep rehashing his decision, and guilt-tripping wasn’t going to work. “It’s different for you and you know it.”

“Oh really? How come? Because I’m so small, I can’t be trusted? Because I’m just a pathetic little thing you took pity on?!”

It was like all the air disappeared from the room in an instant. Obi-Wan gasped softly while you covered your mouth, utterly horrified that you has let that slip. In an instant, he had gone from annoyed to embarrassed. In the months that had passed since Obi-Wan found you, he had mostly kept you confined to his quarters. He had left you alone when he went on missions, but he figured that was for the best — the fewer giants you had to encounter, the better. He failed to consider the possibility that sheltering you would just make you more afraid.

“(Y/n),” he started, lifting his hands up to his eye level. He could barely see the makings of a tear track on your cheek. “Is that really how you feel?”

You crossed your arms and turned your head down, giving it a small shake.

“No? Then why would you say that?”

Your stomach felt like there was a lead weight resting inside. “People say things.”

“What people? Other Jedi?” Obi-Wan had to suppress the rage that was bubbling up.

“I dunno!” your quavering voice shouted in defense. It was times like these that you hated being confined to his hand. “I just... I hear it sometimes, okay? When you’re not around.”

“It’s not Anakin, is it?”

“No, not him,” you scoffed. “Though he does seem to look at me like some sort of helpless pet.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “He needs to learn some manners.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Sometimes it just feels like you’d be better off without me here.”

Obi-Wan almost screamed. If he ever found out who was saying those things to you...

“(Y/n), what are you trying to say?”

You finally looked up at Obi-Wan and felt a pang of guilt at his hurt expression. You didn’t think he would be so... offended by your words.

“I’m just... I don’t understand why you keep me around. I just get in your way, don’t I? You’re always worrying about me, even when I don’t need to be worried about. I’ve fallen from treetops to the forest floor. This is the safest place I’ve ever been — you —you won’t even show me around the temple! — but you still feel the need to—”

“—to protect you?” Obi-Wan finished. Embarrassed, you nodded.

“Yeah. To protect me. When I never even leave this room. I can’t be the only person you ever saved from danger. You... you have far more important things to do than save me when I fall.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment as he steadied his breathing. It was never lost on him how small and vulnerable you were compared to the environment around you. Even in the safety of his hands, his curled fingers loomed overhead. How could he not worry when even he was an inherent danger to you? You were his responsibility now — just as Anakin and Ahsoka are. When he rescued you from your old planet, you were injured and afraid. The temporary shelter he promised had turned into a permanent solution because he enjoyed having you around. You were a friend.

“It seems I have failed to properly convey my feelings,” Obi-Wan said softly, almost sounding disappointed in himself. You looked at him, confused.

“You matter to me a great deal. I wouldn’t have let you stay if you didn’t. You’re a wonderful companion and an even greater friend. You’re right, you’re not the first person I’ve saved from this horrible war. It’s... not often that Jedi get the opportunity to let themselves care so deeply for someone. I want to protect you because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you get hurt.”

You gawked up at him, almost not believing what you were hearing.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, or think any lesser of you.” You could have sworn Obi-Wan’a cheeks flushed red for a moment. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“You... you really mean that?” you blushed, gently resting your hands on his thumb. His hand didn’t seem so imposing anymore.

Obi-Wan didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, I do.”

“It’s just... I dunno,” you frowned. “You travel all across the galaxy. You meet so many amazing and powerful people. Why me? Why do you care about me so much?”

Obi-Wan stroked his beard for a moment. He had never thought about it concretely, but it didn’t take long for the words to come to him.

“Well, for starters, you’re far more observant than I am. And quite good at understanding people and their feelings.” He smiled to himself. “And I must admit, you are very agile. If you were my height, you certainly would have no problem holding your own.”

You rubbed your eyes, foolishly hoping you could conceal how red your face was. No such luck.

“Look, I know I can’t do everything I wish I can. Or act like I can. But I spent my entire life living by myself in a forest. I got by just fine until the war came. I’m—I’m not used to just sitting around all day doing nothing. I... I can help. I want to help! I owe it to you. You saved me, and I should be doing more to show my thanks. Nothing crazy, or-or anything, but maybe I could—”

“Tenacious.”

“What?”

“You’re tenacious, too. I like that about you. It reminds me of...” he trailed off. He didn’t need to say for you to know. “You don’t like to accept the circumstances given to you. You’d rather be the one setting the terms.”

You shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Perhaps I am a bit overbearing at times. But it’s because I care, not because I don’t think you’re capable. But even I can admit when I’m in the wrong.”

You sniffed a laugh. “Can’t imagine that happens all too often.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “No, not really.”

There was a comfortable silence as Obi-Wan thought over what he was about to say. He could only imagine how you felt — ripped away from your home, forced to sit inside all day as you recover from everything you saw and went through. Nobody in their right mind would want to return to the war after being rescued from it, but Obi-Wan supposed he underestimated how you were just his kind of crazy.

“How did you like being in space when I brought you to Coruscant?”

You cocked your head. “Um, I liked it just fine. I was kinda scared, but I thought it went well for my first time on a ship. Why?”

“Well, as you know I’m due to leave for a relief mission to Corvo tomorrow. I don’t suppose you’d like to join me?”

Your eyes lit up. “Really? Yes! I mean—yeah, if—if you’re offering, I’d really — I’d love to.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “Good. The people of Corvo are allies of the Republic, and very kind. If you’re to make Coruscant your new home, it might be nice for you to meet the Corvoian Prime Minister.”

It took a great deal of discipline to contain your excitement, and Obi-Wan knew it. You leaned into his thumb in sort of a makeshift hug, and he flexed his fingers to reciprocate the action as best he could. For a few minutes, neither of you said anything. The moment didn’t need any words.

“Obi-Wan?” you said finally.

“Hmm?”

“How come you changed your mind so quickly?”

He shrugged. “I know when I make a mistake. And I like to fix it as soon as possible so people don’t realize it happened.”

You laughed. “How very humble of you.”

“Oh, you know me.”

“Yeah,” you said, resting your head on his thumb as Obi-Wan leaned back. The sun had just about set and the hundreds of brilliant lights were beginning to pop up along the horizon. You would never get tired of its beauty.

“I do.”

#wow this got REALLY sappy #fiercely protective obi-wan >>>> #he thinks he knows best but sometimes he’s wrong! #only sometimes tho #me just projecting my desire to be obi-wan’s friend #his funky little friend #obwrites #star wars g/t

[magioftheseas]

I don’t actually have a specific bingo square in mind, but what I’ve always wanted to see in komahina (or, like, any komaeda ship) would be komaeda dealing with trauma involving planes. It’s just an easy to exploit thing that I feel is underutilized. I guess an easy one would be Survivors Guilt?

Alright another one for the @badthingshappenbingo and cross-posted to Ao3 here.

It’s as short as the last one but I like to think it’s much sweeter.

Warnings: trauma and mental instability. Self-explanatory.

“...mae...da...! Komaeda!”

“Mm...?”

It was still dark out save for the bedside lamp they had, which was now illuminating Hinata’s stricken face.

“Hinata...kun?” Heavy with sleep and confusion, Komaeda squirmed and struggled to push himself up. With a yawn, he gently touched the other’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? Aha, don’t tell me I kicked you.” He smiles easily, head lolling to the side in a tilt. “I’m sorry. You’re a kind person, so you’ll forgive me, right?”

“Komaeda.” Hinata’s expression remained grim, his tone urgent. Komaeda’s smile widens, yet he still flinched when Hinata grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly. “You were having a nightmare.”

“So I did wake you?” He can’t help but laugh softly even as bile threatened to rise up his throat. “That’s really embarrassing.”

“You started crying.”

And to Komaeda’s dawning horror, Hinata’s fingers brushed against his cheek and came back damp.

“You were crying for your parents,” he clarified solemnly. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” The words came before he even needed to think. Even someone as useless and wretched as him could get this right. “Oh, no, Hinata-kun. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bother you about something so insignificant as...”

Hinata covers his mouth. He cuts himself off immediately in response. Hinata grumbles at him, no surprise there, especially when he pulled his hand away as if burned.

He’s disgusted. From someone like mine, he’s definitely—

“Stop.” Hinata’s firm reprimand does get him to pause. Grimacing, Hinata added, “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not like that. It’s... It’s just urgh.” He trails off into an inelegant sputter. “Urgh.”

“Urgh,” Komaeda repeated with slight amusement. He watched with growing amusement as Hinata’s cheeks burned red and Hinata himself got so much more flustered, burying his face in his hands as he let out a beleaguered groan. Komaeda chuckled at this. “You don’t like it when I talk badly about myself, but you still react like this around me. You’re so funny, Hinata-kun.”

One might call it hypocritical, but... In reality, it’s because Hinata-kun’s so kind.

Hinata even flinches. How he wanted to soothe those worry lines on the other’s face.

He remembers how fearful his parents had been, too—

“Ah.” Komaeda swallowed, hearing his heart thump erratically in his ears. Had it been like this since he woke up? How troublesome. “I, um. I’m kind of thirsty. I think... I’m gonna go get a glass of water.”

“Yeah?” Hinata does turn to look at him, and he has a serious look of concentration. Honestly, under normal circumstances, Komaeda would’ve fawned over him but right now—he just wanted to get away.

He’s fortunate enough not to trip. Though, his stomach sinks when he hears Hinata rustling and padding after him.

“Me, too,” Hinata offered pretty lamely. “I’m thirsty, too.”

He pats Komaeda’s shoulder as he passes by, taking the initiative and fetching two glasses. Notably, he gets ice for one and forgoes it for the other. Knowing that Komaeda always preferred his drinks ice cold while Hinata preferred it a little lukewarm. Done without a word, because catering to him had just become routine to Hinata at this point.

I don’t...

“You’re white as a sheet,” Hinata said, setting the iced glass in front of him and feeling his forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What even is there to talk about...” The words slip before he can think. Komaeda just twists away, stricken. “I’ve become enough of a burden already.”

“You were dreaming about your parents,” Hinata said, making him stiffen. Hinata sipped at his own water coolly. “When I asked you out, I did consider the fact that you’ve been through a lot. It wasn’t a burden so much as a responsibility I took... Hell, I wanted you to rely on me long before that, too.” He takes another sip, and his cheeks are tinted red again. “When you asked to be friends, I wanted...that.”

Hahaha. He’s so cute. So cute it hurts.

“It’s silly,” Komaeda murmured, tracing the rim of the glass. The chill comforts him, because it had been so warm in the wreckage. Too warm. Actually, it had been so hot he thought he was scorching. When he was discovered, he almost died of dehydration...how funny was that? “I accepted my parents’ death years ago. To still have nightmares about it is... Ridiculous.”

I even have nightmares about my dog. Pathetic. And...

He dare not even think about what happened in despair.

“I shouldn’t have survived,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have survived that. I shouldn’t have survived the riots. I shouldn’t have survived the simulation. But I did. Because I have Ultimate Luck.”

“I shouldn’t have survived the Kamukura Project,” Hinata pointed out bluntly. “But I did. And you did. We both did, even when others didn’t. We’re alive and that’s...”

“A burden,” Komaeda said.

“Not a bad thing,” Hinata corrected, albeit awkwardly. “I’m...glad you’re still here.”

Haha. Hahahaha. Ahhh.

“I’m glad that you’re here, Hinata-kun.” How utterly ridiculous. Why was he now—? “D...Did you know? While in despair I... I would... I would sometimes watch videos. Videos upon videos of...aircraft vehicles...”

“Oh.” Hinata sighed, setting his cup aside. “Oh, Nagito.”

“Sometimes there’d be survivors,” he whispered, snuffling as he rubbed at his eyes. God, they stung. “But survivors usually got mauled soon after. At least Naegi-san’s sister...” He laughed weakly and pitifully before his breath caught. “I... I asked for those videos to be made... Those videos were...gifts...”

Hinata embraced him tightly and fiercely, squeezing him as he fell apart.

“I was so lonely. So, so, lonely. I never got to see Mama and Papa very often. I saw so many ads for island resorts. I thought, for my birthday, wouldn’t it be nice if we all...?” He wheezed, choking on a sob. “It was nice... It was such a beautiful, beautiful place that when it came time, I didn’t want to leave...”

“It’s okay,” Hinata murmured into his ear, stroking his hair. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Nagito.”

Hinata holds him, doesn’t even complain when his shoulder gets soaked through. Just keeps petting him and whispering gentle reassurances. What a wonderful idiot he is.

Komaeda hiccups when trying to laugh.

“I... If you die, too...”

“It’ll be hard,” is Hinata’s response, and it’s sardonic as it is kind. “One of Kamukura’s talents is Ultimate Survivor.”

Survivor...

Sniffling, Komaeda does peer over Hinata’s shoulder. Their shadows stretch out, entangled into one entity.

“Survive with me, then,” he found himself saying, gripping Hinata’s back. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Hinata Hajime didn’t hesitate for a second.

#Magi answers #anonymous #Magi fics #KomaHina #bad things happen bingo #bad things bingo

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 2: Fuck-ups and Textbooks

... I know I said I’d update weekly, but here we are. From now on I’ll post every Friday, if not more often. Than you for such a positive response to Chapter 1, it warms my heart! Enjoy :)

Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Summary:  You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 2, Fuck-ups and Textbooks

Chapter Summary:  You narrow in on the pool of suspects while desperately trying to convince yourself that dream psychology is a pseudoscience.

Words: 2225

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

A man stood above you, backlit, so you couldn’t see his face. You were laid supine, staring up at him - vulnerable, but unafraid. He spoke to you, but his voice and words were indistinct, muffled, as if you were underwater.

He knelt over you, placing one hand to the side of your head. It was silent, still, unmoving except for the dim lights shifting behind him. You felt your breath quicken as the figure shifted almost imperceptibly closer. His tie fell forward, dangling over your chest. It was a beautiful cerulean blue, silky and expensive looking. You reached up to touch it, and the man caught your wrist in a firm grip.

“No,” he said, his words clearer but his voice still indistinct. Low, deep, familiar… but you couldn’t place it.

He released your hand and moved his to your waist, lightly caressing, stroking downward until he caught your hipbone. Your pulse quickened and you gasped and arched upward into his touch, feeling his fingers dig in tighter in response.

“I thought so,” he murmured, swinging one leg over to cage your body with his. The hand that wasn’t gripping your hip wove into your hair and came to rest at the base of your skull, pulling your head up as he leaned down to catch your mouth with his…

Your phone alarm blared, waking you with a start. The dream slipped away, leaving you alone in your hotel bed, a noticeable wetness between your legs.

“God fucking damn it; I can’t have anything,” you muttered, throwing off your blanket and hopping into the shower. You hadn’t dreamed about sex in a while, hadn’t thought about sex in a while, too preoccupied with proving yourself at work. The dream left a longing in its wake, one that would unfortunately have to be addressed at a later time, because you stayed in the shower far too long and needed to meet Hotch and Morgan downstairs.

____________

You bustled into the lobby, clutching your case files and coffee. The others stood by the front entrance, facing away, seemingly discussing something amongst themselves. Hotch turned at the sound of your heels clicking towards them. You smiled, nodding your head in greeting, and-

Oh my god.

You froze in your tracks, face feeling suddenly numb. You registered Hotch frowning in confusion, but you couldn’t say anything to reassure him, not yet.

His tie.

It was the same one, the one that draped over your bare chest in the dream last night, the one attached to the man who you’d been thinking about all morning despite never seeing his face. The same one that hung loosely around Hotch’s neck last night on the balcony, the one that made you feel so voyeuristic that you couldn’t make conversation with him knowing its unknotting exposed his throat, making him appear stripped bare in comparison to the tailored suits he practically lived in.

“You alright, kiddo?” Morgan asked. “I mean, I know I’m a stop-you-in-your-tracks kinda guy, but I woulda thought you’d be used to that by now, huh?”

Morgan’s lighthearted cockiness gave you the boost you needed to shake your head and keep walking forward. “Sorry, thought I forgot my phone. I’m good. Let’s go, what’s the plan?”

Hotch seemingly accepted your answer, but kept his eyes on you as you got into the car. “Local police have rounded up friends and family of the California victim at the station. I’d like you to take the lead on interviews today. Morgan and I will be available should you have any questions, but we’re going to search our victim’s apartment first. Is that alright?”

It wasn’t actually a question, of course, but you gave verbal confirmation just the same. After the incident last week, you wanted a chance to prove yourself in an interview setting with a slightly less hostile subject.

They dropped you off at the station with instructions to compare notes with Prentiss, JJ, Reid, and Rossi after each interview. After setting up the room and conducting a tearful conversation with the victim’s mother, your first interview of the day, a conference call with the others in Arizona and Nevada revealed that the team had missed something big in the initial review of victims: they had all attended the same small, liberal arts college in San Diego.

“So, uh, who wants to tell Hotch?” asked Emily over the phone. Silence on the line, but you could tell what the others were thinking - no one wanted to be the one to deliver the news that you had overlooked such a clear commonality in the victim profiles - one that could have led you to an obvious suspect pool hours ago.

“The most fair way to decide this would be a random selection tool, here, I can pull one up on my phone,” replied Reid, accompanied by tapping sounds as he typed something in.

“No, she can do it, she’s with Hotch already,” said Rossi. “Let’s not waste time on this. Let us know what he says.” The others murmured their sympathies, but ended the call just the same, satisfied with avoiding Hotch’s quiet brand of wrath for the time being.

Sighing, you slumped in your chair in the interview room. Best to just get it over with. You dialed and held your breath, but not for long, as he picked up on the first ring.

“What did you find?” he asked, expectant.

“I just got off the phone with the others, and, it… it looks like they all attended the same college. PLNU, here in San Diego.”

A few beats of complete silence on the other end. You cringed, holding the phone away from your head like it was a bomb about to go off.

After what felt like ages, he responded. His voice was low, stern as always, but it had a clipped quality that you recognized as the closest you’d ever seen Agent Hotchner get to rage. “How did we not find this out during preliminary research?” he asked.

“Well, um, two of them didn’t actually graduate from there, so it wasn’t immediately obvious,” you offered.

More silence.

“I’m sorry, sir, you’re right though, we should have figured this out earlier. I’m sorry, I’ll -”

He interrupted you. “Thank you, I’ll tell Garcia to get a suspect pool together.” Line dead.

You sighed and laid your head in your hands. As far as tough conversations go, that was easy on the surface - hell, you’d had bosses scream at you when you worked retail for something much less consequential. But Hotch was different - he commanded respect without demanding it, and he had a way of making you feel like the only true measure of success was his praise, and by that same vein, his disappointment made you feel like an utter failure. For a man so cold and closed off, he drew the attention and admiration of everyone around him. When you started your internship, JJ had filled you in on what happened to his family - both wife and child murdered by one of their subjects. You weren’t sure how a man who had gone through that was still standing, much less working in the field that exposed them to that danger in the first place. But that was Aaron Hotchner, right? There was a reason that any member of his team would take a bullet for him without a second thought.

You’d only known him for a month, but you thought you probably would too.

____________

The rest of the interviews progressed smoothly, and you found out through conversation with your fellow team members that all three victims had taken a class with the same TA. One of them had mentioned a creepy teaching assistant to her friends at one point or another, shaping this up to hopefully be a pretty clear case of unhinged stalkerdom. Why the grandiosity in transporting and hiding the bodies no one was quite sure, but you, Morgan, and Hotch were on your way to his house along with a SWAT team to figure that out.

When you pulled up outside his address, a little yellow bungalow in La Jolla, you felt your upper lip start to sweat. Morgan and Hotch were pulling on their vests, checking their guns, and you, an intern without weapons privileges (or training, for that matter) were hiding behind the corner of the SUV.

“Remember, we don’t know if this is our guy!” Morgan yelled to the other officers. “We need him alive, don’t go shooting for no reason, got it?”

Hotch turned to you hurriedly before they moved across the street to enter the home. “You okay?” he asked, placing his hand on your upper arm.

You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip.

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured you, looking into your face intently. "There’s several officers waiting with you out here, this will take less than two minutes.”

You nodded again, unsure how to tell him that you weren’t afraid for yourself, but for them. For him. He was indestructible, fearless, more than twice your age with more than 20 times the experience in the field. But you still felt an innate urge to be there, to protect him in case something went wrong.

His potential as a cult leader is really being wasted at the BAU. Hell, I’d die for him.

Therapy, you decided. You needed therapy.

Hotch nodded, oblivious to your internal conflict, dropped his hand from your arm, and headed towards the house with the others. You heard Morgan yell, a loud bang as he presumably kicked the door in, and more shouting. Your breath hitched in your throat as you counted the seconds, dreading the sound of gunshots.

Luckily, it didn’t come. They exited the house, striding towards you. Hotch’s hair had been disheveled in the commotion, falling onto his forehead. He raked it back with one hand, sighing.

“Nothing. Doesn’t look like he fled, but Garcia didn’t mention anything about him being at work during this time. Morgan’s gonna call her and see if she can find a location; let’s search the house.”

You nodded and followed him, feeling guilty for your overwhelming sense of relief that the suspect hadn’t been home. Morgan stood in the front yard, charming Garcia on the phone. You smiled. It was only a matter of time before those two stopped being idiots and admitted their love for each other; you couldn’t imagine being one of the more seasoned team members that has dealt with their antics for years.

Trailing Hotch through the front door, you noticed immediately how… bare the home was. The furniture was all standard IKEA gray (you recognized it, having furnished your apartment on a budget), the walls were absent of any decoration, and there wasn’t a single knick-knack or distinguishing piece that made it appear as if someone actually lived there. The obvious plainness stood in stark contrast to the sunny exterior and palm trees and other greenery surrounding the home.

Morgan strode in behind you, apparently having concluded his flirting session. “Cozy, huh?”

You nodded. You didn’t have much experience profiling suspects’ living quarters, but you didn’t need to be an expert to know that something was off here.

“Split up. Take the bedroom,” Hotch directed, nodding in your direction. “Tell me if you find anything.”

The bedroom was just as unremarkable as the rest of the house. You tore through drawers of neatly folded clothing, pulled out mounds of blank notebooks from the desk, dug through a trashcan filled to the brim with just tissues (you truly didn’t want to know), and just when you were sure there was absolutely nothing of import to discover about this guy, you pulled up the corner of the mattress to find what must have been dozens of books on criminal psychology stacked within the bedframe.

The suspect was very notably not a TA for a criminal psychology class.

“Uh, Agent Hotchner? Sir? I think I found something,” you called out.

Hotch appeared in the doorway. “Show me.”

You pulled up the corner of the mattress, gesturing for him to look underneath. Moving closer, he placed his hand on your lower back, and looked over your shoulder.

“Criminal psychology?” he asked, unmoving.

You nodded, glued to your position, breathing shallowly, wanting to move to examine the books but effectively pinned between Hotch and the foot of the bed. Your gaze shifted to the left slightly, and you were met with an eye level view of-

That fucking tie. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

He moved away to pull the stack of books out of its hiding place, and the muscles in your lower back where his hand was resting suddenly relaxed. You berated yourself internally for being so weird around him - it was a tie, for fuck’s sake, something that your mind had picked up on yesterday and inserted purposelessly into your dream.

Dream psychology is bullshit, you reassured yourself for probably the hundredth time today.

Hotch began to leaf through the books, and you saw that certain passages had been intensely highlighted and circled, with notes scribbled in the margins. He paused to read a few of them before snapping the textbook he was holding shut and standing up.

“Let’s get these packed up and go through them back at the hotel. It’s getting late.”

#hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner #hotch smut #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #hotchner fanfic #agent hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #spencer reid #mgg #hotch headcanon #criminal minds headcanons #thomas gibson #ao3 #fanfiction #writing #dom!hotch #sub!reader #d/s dynamic #slow burn #slow building romance #daddy!hotch

[starvonnie]

Do You Remember?

Day 1 of Megarod week! Prompt: Faction Rating: Explicit Fandoms: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types Relationship: Megatron/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime Characters: Megatron (Transformers),Hot Rod (Transformers),Rodimus | Rodimus Prime,Impactor (Transformers) Additional Tags: Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Drinking, Shower Sex, Size Difference, Stomach Bulge, One Night Stands, kind of Also on AO3

“You’ve got an admirer,” Impactor said with a smile, gesturing with his helm over Megatron’s shoulder.

He turned, curiously, to meet bright blue optics for just a moment before the fiery little mech whipped his helm around.  He tried to look fascinated with a stain on the wall.  He wasn’t a very good actor.  Good thing he was cute.

Impactor chuckled.  “Go buy him a drink.  He’s totally your type.”

“I don’t have a type.”  

“Then all the more reason to go buy him a drink.”

“You’re not gonna drop this are you?”

“Nope.”

Megatron sighed.

“C’mon, mech, when was the last time you got some action?”

Megatron rolled his optics.  “I don’t care about that.”

“So you’re telling me if that hot piece of aft came over here and said ‘take me home and frag me’ you’d say ‘no?’”

Megatron sighed again.  “He’s not going to do that, though.”

“Well, no, probably not.  You’ve gotta pretend to be interested in their personality for a while and subtly ask them to frag you.  Either way, if you don’t go buy him a drink I will.”

Megatron looked back his way again, and again the mech quickly turned his helm the other way.  If only so Impactor wouldn’t get to him…  “Alright. Wish me luck.”

His spark was in his throat as he made his way across the bar.  His usually steady hands shook.  He felt like at any second, he might keel over from nervousness alone. He was worried that his voicebox wouldn’t work when he tried it, but when Matrix-blue optics found him once more, holding his gaze this time, he felt his fears melting away.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Megatron asked.

The flame-coloured mech smirked.  “Only if you let me buy you one, too.”

Megatron found himself smiling.  “I suppose I could allow that.”

He patted the stool next to him, and when Megatron sat, he offered him his hand to shake.  “Hot Rod.”

“Megatron.”  He shook his hand—and his dwarfed Hot Rod’s.  He was so tiny.

“It suits you.”

Megatron glanced down at the flame decal on Hot Rod’s chest.  “As does yours.”

Hot Rod waved the bartender over, and they each put their orders in on the others’ tab.  The bartender looked a little confused at that, but smiled at them and got to making their drinks.

“You like sweet things then?” Megatron asked, gesturing to the fizzy, hot pink drink presented to Hot Rod in a flourish.

“Listen, I’m not here to taste the engex.”  He made a face.  “This,” he lifted the drink, “is just an excuse to make bad decisions.”

“Am I the first one of those bad decisions?” Megatron asked with a mischievous glint in his optic.  He took a sip while Hot Rod laughed.  He had a laugh that made Megatron want to make a fool of himself if it meant he could hear it again.

Hot Rod shrugged.  “I’m not sure yet.  I suppose whether or not it’s good or bad is up to you.  Seems like a pretty good idea so far.”  He smiled, cocksure, but beneath that there was an endearing shyness. “So… you come here often?”

Megatron chuckled.  “Maybe not ‘often,’ but whenever Impactor and I have some time off together this is usually where we go.”

“I’m guessing Impactor is the one currently making out with a minibot?”  He gestured amusedly back to their booth, and sure enough, Impactor had a lapful of a little purple bot.  They seemed oblivious to the rest of the world.

Megatron sighed.  “Yeah, that would be him.  I think he told me to come over here just to get rid of me.  He said there was a little speedster over here staring at me.”

Hot Rod scoffed.  “Hey, I’m not small you’re huge!”

“But you were staring at me.”

Hot Rod’s face turned nearly the same colour as his drink.  “Sorry, you just… have a really pretty smile.”

It was Megatron’s turn to blush.  

“Sorry, I… don’t really do this much,” Hot Rod admitted.  “Well… more like ever.  It’s not really my scene.”

“Nor do I.  Like I said, Impactor was the one to get me to come over.”

Hot Rod’s spoiler dipped a little.

“Not that I wouldn’t have, I just don’t really flirt much, but you are cute so I, I probably would have come over.  If I were. Like that.”

Hot Rod giggled.  “Don’t blow a gasket.  I get it.” He smirked.  “You think I’m cute, though, hm?”  He scooted a little closer on his barstool, leaning in, “Because I think you’re—”  Hot Rod flailed as he slipped off his stool, spilling his drink and falling forward onto Megatron.  His whole face and the tips of his spoiler turned a bright red.  “Sorry!’

“Careful.”  Megatron helped right him.  “I think that’s the fastest anyone’s ever fallen for me.”

“I think I’m going to go crawl into a hole and die now.”

Megatron laughed.  “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“I’m a bit dramatic.”  He managed a shy smile, but it fell when he glanced around him, seeing other bots looking at him.  

“Everyone’s too drunk to care,” Megatron said quietly, trying to reassure him. “Half of them probably can’t remember the last five seconds.”

Hot Rod laughed, still ducking his helm in embarrassment.  “Maybe we… get a booth?  Something not so open?”

“If privacy is what you want… we could take this back to my place.”

“Oh! I, uh, I…”

“Or not.  No pressure.”

“No, I, I want to.  Yeah, let’s… let’s do it!”

Hot Rod paid his tab and apologized for the spill, and in his excitement Megatron nearly forgot to pay his own tab.  Once they were both settled up, they made their way outside.  The cool air quickly chilled their frames and Hot Rod started to shiver.

“Cold?”

Hot Rod nodded, denta chattering.

“May I?”  Megatron held his arm out, hovering, until Hot Rod snuggled up to him and he wrapped his arm around his shoulders.  “It’s not a long walk.”

Hot Rod put his arm around Megatron’s waist.  “Good.  I think I’m gonna need a real workout to warm up.”

Despite the chill in the air, Megatron’s cooling fans came roaring on.  Hot Rod giggled and gave him a half-amused, half-sultry look.

A few blocks of mild embarrassment and comfortable silence later, and they were at his building and riding up the elevator.

“It’s nothing fancy,” Megatron said.

Hot Rod shrugged.  “You got a berth?”

Megatron nodded.

“Then I think it’ll do just fine.”

In every movie Megatron had ever seen, when they brought someone home, it was a fast, steamy frag.  But once inside, he just held Hot Rod’s hand while the little speedster gave him a soft look.  

“We don’t have to interface if you don’t want to,” Megatron said.  “I just wanted to be alone with you.”

Hot Rod blushed.  “I mean… I want to, if you’re down.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Geez, don’t sound so excited,” Hot Rod teased.  He beckoned Megatron down.  Megatron obliged him, turning his helm slightly since he assumed he wanted to whisper something to him, but he had assumed wrong.  Happily, mind you, since he’d pressed soft lips to his.  

Once they’d touched, he understood.  He wanted to pull Hot Rod close.  He wanted their heated plating flush.  He wanted to hear Hot Rod moan his name and beg him for more.  And his new friend got right to it.  His hand slid right down over Megatron’s modesty panel, revving his engine.

Megatron deepened their kiss, focusing on how Hot Rod’s glossa slid against his own. But all the focus in the world couldn’t have kept his spike from springing out into the waiting hands of Hot Rod.

Hot Rod smiled as he pulled away slightly.  “Look at you.  Hard for me already?”  His hand was almost comically small, stroking his shaft.  

“Who wouldn’t be?”  Megatron kissed him again.  He caressed down Hot Rod’s frame, pausing just above his heated panels.  He stifled a chuckle when Hot Rod made a quiet, impatient noise.  He teased the edge just a little longer, before sliding two fingers between legs spreading for him.  He’d barely felt the steaming metal before his finger was sliding through wet folds.

Hot Rod gasped and then ground against his hand.  He mouthed at Megatron in an almost-kiss, but it was clear his processor had dropped to his array.  

Megatron just barely pressed in, hearing Hot Rod hold his ventilations, then right back out.  He circled his anterior node a few times and whispered right in his audial.  “The berth awaits us.”

“Tease,” Hot Rod said.  But he smiled and took hold of Megatron’s hand—the one that wasn’t wet with his lubricants—and pulled him along.  He backed himself up against the berth, letting himself fall back onto it as Megatron came up over him.

Hot Rod stopped him, and when Megatron looked at his face there was a little fear in his optics.  “Um… I’m gonna need you to, uh… work me up to… that.”  He nodded towards his twitching spike.

“Of course,” Megatron said, his voice deep and rumbling.

“Not that I can’t take that size, because I can.”

Megatron chuckled.  “Even if you could take me right away, it’s much more fun to tease you until you beg me for it.”

“Do your worst, Megatron.”  Hot Rod smirked up at him; a challenge.  “Well, maybe not your worst.  Your restrained worst.  Just to start.  After that you can get as rough with me as you want.”

In an act that was anything but rough, Megatron kissed up his jawline.  “I’m not so sure I want to be rough with you.”

Hot Rod shrugged.  “I’m down for literally anything.  I’ve agreed to a lot of stuff tonight that I’ve never done before, and so far, it’s been amazing.”

Megatron smiled.  “It has.”

He kissed him before he finally pushed a finger into that warm, welcoming valve. He captured Hot Rod’s first moan in their kiss, and then the second as he pushed deeper.  The third he let escape, as his fingertip brushed his ceiling nodes.  It was surprisingly quiet.  Given the flames blazing across his chest, he assumed everything he did was quick, brash, and loud.  Just like fire.

In one way, he was fire.  Every sound, movement, and every glazed-over glance he gave Megatron had crackling heat racing through his veins.  He wouldn’t have been surprised to find soot coating his plating.  And he wouldn’t have cared one bit.

Hot Rod moaned and clawed at Megatron’s back.  He crooked his finger and pulled more of those sweet sounds from his small frame.  He was dripping everywhere and it took a great deal of restraint to not slip his spike in that wet heat and rut into him.

“I can take more,” Hot Rod whispered.  

“You’re sure?”

He nodded emphatically.  “I’m not as breakable as I look.”

Megatron couldn’t help the rev of his engine as he pushed a second finger in. It was a snug fit, but Hot Rod shuddered with pleasure and rocked his hips forward.  Each press in made a wet sound as his fingertips met with ceiling nodes and a gasp from Hot Rod.

All the while, he kissed and nipped at his neck.  Each bite would have Hot Rod holding his ventilations, until fanged denta released him, relatively unscathed.  Tomorrow it would be easy to guess what Hot Rod had been up to the night before.  Same with Megatron, if you looked at his back.  His bright hands left golden trails where his fingers dug in.  

Megatron scissored his fingers, testing his valve.  It opened easily.  Hot Rod groaned and his optics rolled back into his helm.  His biolights pulsed with his arousal, and their position made it seem like they were pointing down to where Megatron’s hand was splitting him open.

“You’re sure you don’t do this often?”  Megatron kept his voice sultry as he asked this.  He quirked up a brow and kept kissing at his neck, jaw, and collarbone.

“Well, I… it’s not like I haven’t with y’know… big bots but—ah…”  He took a few deep, shuddering ventilations.  “On my own, I like to—nhh!... push myself.”  He smiled and bit his lip.

“Is that so?”  Megatron didn’t wait for an answer before capturing his lips in a kiss and biting his lower lips himself.  He got bitten back as he pulled away.  

Hot Rod smiled up at him mischievously.  He easily stole that expression with the crook of his fingers.  He gave him a little pout and then said, “I’m ready. Get on your back.”

“Oh?”

Hot Rod guided him to where he wanted him, straddling him with lubricant-soaked thighs.  The red biolights ringing his valve were a pretty invitation for his spike.  He was a little jealous, but only a little.  If he couldn’t have his own, he’d enjoy Hot Rod’s as that light swallowed him.

“Think you can handle me?” Hot Rod taunted when he caught Megatron staring.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

He smirked.  “Oh, I know I can take this.  But I dunno about you.”  He ran his wet folds along the underside of Megatron’s spike.  It twitched involuntarily.  

“Then let’s find out, shall we?”

Hot Rod let just the tip slip in.  “Oh… we shall.”  He sank down on Megatron’s spike with a soft moan.  He took a few deep ventilations with a hand on his abdomen.  He stroked the bulge Megatron’s spike made.  “Primus, you’re huge.”

“Am I hurting you?”

Hot Rod shook his helm, smiling wide.  “Quite the opposite.”

He lifted up a bit then sunk back down a few times, watching his armour flex. His field flared with lust as he picked up the pace, smiling clumsily at Megatron all the while.

Megatron gripped his calves and gave little thrusts up to meet him.  He let his helm come to rest and shut his optics, sighing with pleasure.  He had to focus a bit on not overloading too soon because, well… it had been a while. It didn’t help that every erotic noise Hot Rod made just added to his arousal.

Hot Rod bit his lip and picked up the pace a bit, leaning forward.  Every time he took Megatron’s spike to the hilt, he would grind his anterior node against Megatron’s plating.  It arced and had Hot Rod chasing that feeling.  Faster, harder.  His warm, snug valve swallowed his spike again and again until Hot Rod could do nothing but pant and hold on.  Megatron kept pace with him, feeling his overload building all too-quickly, when Hot Rod suddenly cried out and threw his helm back.  His optics flashed white and his cooling fans roared as he slumped forward.

Ventilating deeply, Hot Rod said, “Frag… I needed that.”  With shaking arms, he lifted himself just enough to see Megatron’s face. “Sorry.  It’s, uh… been a while.”

Megatron chuckled.  “It’s fine. I was getting close, myself.”

“Don’t worry.”  Hot Rod smiled sloppily.  “I’ll getcha there, too.  Just need a minute to rest.”

“Take your time.  I have nowhere to be.”  He stroked up Hot Rod’s waist, delighting in the shiver of his frame.  He even got a few gasps as he kept his lust alive, but it turned into a flinch when his fingertips brushed his spoiler.

“Not there right now,” Hot Rod said.  “Normally I like having my spoiler touched.  It feels real good.  But right after an overload its really sensitive.”

Megatron let his hands slide back down to his waist and then he hugged him.  “Remind me of that in a few minutes.”

“Heh. Will do.”  Hot Rod nuzzled against his chest.  

Megatron twitched his spike, getting a deserved glare from Hot Rod.

He smiled.  “Sorry, honest mistake.”

“Uh huh.”  Hot Rod rolled his optics.  “You’re just mad that you’re still horny.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yeah, yeah.”  Hot Rod blew a raspberry.  “If you wanna go again so badly you gotta take over.”

Megatron shrugged.  “Alright. Hold on, then.”

With a smile and a bite to his lower lip, Hot Rod wrapped his arms around him. As soon as he was secure, Megatron flipped them.  He took a moment to admire the pretty package beneath him.  Staring up at him with eager, lustful optics.  That sight alone would be enough to make him overload.

“You’re beautiful,” Megatron said a little too honestly.

Somehow, Hot Rod’s face managed to turn a deeper shade of red.  He hid behind his hands, but Megatron could still see his beaming smile.

“Shut up.”

Megatron chuckled.  “But you are. And right now, you’re being adorable.”

Hot Rod peeked out from his hiding place, and that only served to make him look cuter.  In a meek voice, he said, “You’re beautiful, too.”

Megatron rolled his optics and shook his helm with a small smile.  “You don’t need to lie to me, Hot Rod.  I don’t expect a compliment back.

“But you are,” Hot Rod insisted.  “Your smile, your optics… not to mention you’re just… rugged.  Like, in a really hot way.”  His spoiler flapped against the berth, trying to dispel heat. “I’m not good with words.”

Megatron kissed him to spare him further embarrassment.  But also because he just wanted to kiss him.  There was something about this little speedster.  He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew that he wanted to be close to him.

The smell of ozone and wafting steam surrounded them.  He tasted the remnants of Hot Rod’s overly sweet drink on his lips, and what would have been too much to drink himself, made him kiss him deeper. Really savouring it.  He savoured the feel of Hot Rod’s hands, too.  All over him.  They dragged electricity along his plating and coaxed him into a gentle rhythm that had Hot Rod sighing happily.

His ventilations a little laboured, Megatron said, “It’s been a while for me, too.”

Hot Rod laughed.  “You gonna blow your load already?”

Megatron chuckled.  “Not right away, but soon, yes.”

“Take it slow, then.”  Hot Rod pulled him down for a kiss.  “You feel really good… I wanna savour it.”

“Says the mech who came after two minutes.”

“It was like four.”

Megatron laughed and kissed him one more time.  “I’m fine with taking my time.  The night’s still young.”

Hot Rod relaxed into his berth with a sigh.  He looked up at Megatron with big, round, sparkling optics, his arms splayed out on either side.  Open, and vulnerable.  There was this air of trust in his field that made him glad he’d been the one to pick him up from that seedy bar.  Most of them would have taken him in and then tossed him out, but Megatron, well… he really hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he got to see him.

It had been a long time since he’d interfaced at all, but even longer since he’d done something so… slow.  Gentle. Watching Hot Rod’s face, soft and languid with pleasure, he wanted to call it love.  

It wasn’t, obviously.  Love at first sight, or even first frag, didn’t exist.  Lust?  Infatuation? Of course.  But this felt like more.  He saw what could easily become love.  Like a new, exciting path had opened up in his life.  And he knew it was foolish to even dream of anything beyond this night, but hope so rarely found his spark.

So, he enjoyed the moment.  He slowly fragged him, drawing out all these soft sounds.  He wanted to kiss him, but then he wouldn’t hear them.  Or see his optics flutter closed.  Or see him shift just a little bit closer.  

And there was his spoiler.

This time, when his hands met the sensitive metal, Hot Rod moaned and squirmed. He gripped the sheets and arched off of the berth, moaning Megatron’s name.

“Good?” Megatron checked in, just in case.

“So good.”  Hot Rod met his gaze briefly before another caress of his spoiler had his optics closing with a long, low moan.

Megatron quickened his pace just a little.  He leaned down to use his mouth, instead, and when his glossa swirled around the pointed tip of his spoiler, Hot Rod rolled his hips to match Megatron’s rhythm. He left more scratches on Megatron’s back as another overload suddenly hit him, arching further and gasping.

His calipers cycled down on Megatron’s girth.  He moaned and thrust erratically.  Hot Rod’s calipers rippled around his spike, pulling him deeper and deeper until he bottomed out, transfluid gushing out around his spike.  He thrust a few more times until Hot Rod had milked him of all that he had.

Being careful not to crush Hot Rod, Megatron rolled off of him.  

Hot Rod was left gaping and dripping.  Out of breath, he said, “I think you’re gonna make me walk funny tomorrow.”  He gave Megatron a wobbly smile.  “Not complaining.”

Megatron chuckled.  He rubbed Hot Rod’s belly, still marvelling how he’d managed to take his spike without that much difficulty.

“I didn’t hurt you, right?”

Hot Rod shook his helm.  “That was one of the best frags of my life.”

Megatron couldn’t help but smirk.  “I try.”

“Can we try again?”

Megatron chuckled again.  “How about we get cleaned up, instead?  It’s a small shower, so you can use it first.”

“What? After fragging me into the berth you’re too shy to share a shower with me?”  Hot Rod shook his helm.  “Nah. We’re showering together. Because I wouldn’t mind getting a little dirtier before we get clean.”

“In that case…”  Megatron got out of berth and swept a surprised Hot Rod up into his arms. He let out an endearing little squeak, and he hoped he didn’t mind when he nuzzled against him.  He assumed not, since he nuzzled him back.

Why did this all feel so right?  

The shower really was cramped.  Even when Megatron was alone he found himself hitting his elbows against the wall.  But with Hot Rod there, wanting to be close to him, it felt like the perfect amount of space.  

Unfortunately, with the difference in their height, it made kissing next to impossible, but they found a way.  Though after a few, Megatron had to be the responsible one and actually clean the fluids from their frames.  It didn’t help that Hot Rod curved his frame in just the right way to get his hands where he wanted them.  And that he stuck his aft out so it rubbed up against his array.  All that paired with the sultry looks over his shoulder, and it took all of Megatron’s willpower not to succumb to him.

The willpower that was cracking away.

“Insatiable, aren’t you?” Megatron purred in his audial.

“Just another quick frag,” Hot Rod temped him. His aft swayed in a figure eight. “You know you want to.”

When his valve cover snapped open and newer, warmer lubricants dripped down his panels, all his resolve vanished.  Megatron easily picked Hot Rod up and impaled him on his length.  He thrust into him, pressed Hot Rod into the tiled wall.  His moans echoed around them and spurred him on.  

He felt the bulge his spike made beneath his fingers, tight around Hot Rod’s waist.  Nearly too much spike for his little frame.  And yet, Hot Rod kept begging for more, more.  Harder. Faster.

Oral lubricants dripped from Hot Rod’s open mouth. He tried to speak, but it was incoherent.  Megatron couldn’t find the words either.  He just pounded away at that welcoming valve.

The water made everything that much more slippery. The only secure hold he could find was wrapping his arms around Hot Rod’s waist, giving him everything he had.  It was the complete opposite of their first time, but just as pleasurable.  It wasn’t long before Megatron was spilling more fluids into Hot Rod’s tank, and hearing him moan his name.

A satiated Hot Rod was much easier to clean.  He seemed too tired to do much of anything, so Megatron gently lathered and rinsed him, giving him a few pecks here and there.

Hot Rod’s smile was wobbly as he leaned much of his weight onto Megatron.  He attempted to return the favour, but after a few clumsy tries Megatron kissed him and whispered, “Just relax.  I’ll finish up soon and then we’ll settle down into berth.  That is, if you wanted to stay the night?”

Hot Rod nodded.  “If that’s alright with you.”

“As long as you’re alright with some cuddling.”

“I’m always down to cuddle.”

Megatron kissed him on his forehelm and got himself mostly clean.  It was enough to be able to cuddle without grossing Hot Rod out, anyways.  Though it seemed like he wouldn’t care either way.  But he wanted to impress him.  Or at least not be gross.  

What a strange night.

Finishing up, Megatron shut the water off and dried the both of them off.  Hot Rod once again made it a challenge by stopping him to kiss and just generally being quite handsy.  It was hard to get annoyed, though.  Hot Rod’s interruptions were hardly a nuisance.  He’d let him distract him all day if that distraction was a hand stroking up his chest or a kiss to his chin when he stooped down.

Eventually, he managed to dry them both off, and then he picked Hot Rod up once more, laying him down in berth.  He was barely in before Hot Rod was snuggled up to him. He cutely nuzzled against him, resting his helm on his chest.  

They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the silence and closeness.  Megatron thought Hot Rod had fallen asleep when he spoke up.

“Do you believe in fate?” Hot Rod asked quietly.

Megatron sighed thoughtfully.  “Well… I’m not one to believe that everything happens for a reason.  I think, most of the time, what we think of as fate is just one of an infinite number of possibilities.  Coincidences are bound to happen.”

“Oh…”

“Oh?”

Hot Rod shrugged.  “I dunno if I believe-believe in fate, but something drew me to you.  Beyond just your smile.”

Megatron gently stroked his spoiler.

“I think…”  Hot Rod traced a crack in Megatron’s chest plating.  “Some sparks are just drawn too each other and we don’t know why.  I dunno.  I’ve heard some bots say that maybe it’s because our atoms or whatever were close to each other when the universe was created.”  When shy blue optics rose to meet steady red, he flushed pink.  “Uh… not that I’m like saying we’re soulmates or anything like that—I barely know you—but… and maybe it’s just me, but something about you feels… special.  Like I’m supposed to be here.”

“I don’t know about all that,” Megatron said, “but I can say that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed your company.  And I want to see you again.  Perhaps for an actual date?”

“Oh, well, I… I’m not gonna be in Tarn for long,” he admitted meekly.

The room felt noticeably heavier when both of their fields turned somber.

“Sorry, I… I live in Nyon.  I just came here for a visit.”

That new path he’d imagined faded into shadows.  He saw Hot Rod walk off without him, and it hurt more than it should.

Pushing past these new, dumb emotions that he shouldn’t even be having, he said “In that case… if you’re ever in Tarn, you know where to find me.”

Hot Rod gave him a bittersweet smile.  “You can call me if you’re ever around Nyon, too.  I wouldn’t exactly call it a great vacation spot, but I could show you around.”

“It’s not like I get much vacation.”

“Oh. Right.  Is it?  As bad as they say it is down there?”

Megatron’s optics dimmed.  

“Sorry.  You don’t have to answer that, it was rude of me to ask.”

“Let’s just say that I greatly prefer being above ground, here, with you.”

Hot Rod smiled.  “Me, too.”

 These two sparks would meet again, millions of years later.  One hidden behind red and one behind violet.  There was no rosy glow.  No easy conversation.  Not even a pleasantry passed between them.  There was only a fusion cannon, levelled at the red that protected Hot Rod’s spark.

Should he say something?  Did he even remember him?  Had everything he said been a lie?

Hot Rod wasn’t given much time to think before a photon round ripped through his frame and left him floating, near-death, in the void of space.  The Megatron he had met had long since died. That sweet smile was gone.

And Hot Rod was going to die. "You remember that night, don't you?"

Megatron sighed.  He figured this would happen, eventually, but it had been so long he’d assumed Rodimus wanted to forget all about it.  "That was a long time ago, Rodimus."

"But you remember it. Which means you've thought about it."

“We’re around each other enough.  It’s hard not to think about it.”

“Okay, then, what are your thoughts on it?”

“I think it happened millions of years ago.”

“And? A ton of shit happened millions of years ago that I still remember clearly.  That night is one of them.  I had a good time and I thought you did, too.  I would’ve gone for you if we lived in the same city, and now we’re here together, so…”  Rodimus fidgeted.

“… So?”

“So… I dunno.  It felt like fate that night and now that you’re here it really feels like fate.  I just want to know where your head’s at on all of this.  I’m kinda confused and feelings are stupid but they’re there.”

Megatron sighed.  “How I feel doesn’t matter.  I can’t give you what you want.”

“What do you think I want?”

“I can only assume you want what we both wanted back then, if you’re bringing it up.”

Rodimus didn’t say anything for a long time.  When he did speak again, it was a question.

"Where do you think we'd be? If I stayed in Tarn?"

"Was that even an option for you?"

Rodimus shrugged. "If there were streets, I could live on them."

Megatron gave him a sympathetic look.

"I can't say your apartment wasn't... tempting. But I figured you wouldn’t want someone you just met trying to crash at your place every night." Rodimus chuckled awkwardly.  “Plus, I… I didn’t want you looking down on me or taking pity on me.”

“You thought I’d look down upon you?  I was a miner.”

“Yeah, but at least you had a job.  At least you were useful.”

“Your existence is not defined by your usefulness.”

“I know.  I do.  But that’s what I thought at the time.”  

An uncomfortable silence befell them.  Eventually it proved to be too awkward for Rodimus.

"And, y’know, the fragging was pretty good, too." The smirk he gave Megatron was cocksure, but his reddening face betrayed him.

"You remember how good it was all these millions of years later?" Megatron teased.

"You don’t?"

Megatron looked wistful for a moment.  “No.  I remember. I don’t think I could ever forget.”

"I felt something special that night," Rodimus confessed. "If I'm honest, I've spent a lot of nights wondering how things might have been if I’d stayed.  If I would have been a Decepticon, if the war would have even happened…”  After a glance Megatron’s way, finding him staring, he chuckled nervously.  “Uh, but, y’know, it’s nothing.  We didn’t know each other.”

“I wanted to know you,” Megatron said.

“Well… you can now, if you want.”  Rodimus took a half step towards him.

Megatron stifled every urge.  To kiss him or hug him or do any number of things that required closeness.  He couldn’t just take what he wanted, anymore. “Tell me what you want, Rodimus. If I’m on this ship I need you to be perfectly clear with me.”

Rodimus bit his lip.  Then, in a rush, he said, “I want you to kiss me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Just do it.”

Megatron still hesitated, but his blue optics were his weakness.  He couldn’t deny him.  Not with him looking at him so softly.  It was that same not-love look.  Of almost-love.  Of maybe-love.  It was a look so full of potential and all Megatron had to do to unlock that potential was to take that step and kiss him.

Everything would change.  That path opened up again, but it was harder to see far down it.  It was still there, but obscured.  A dangerous path.  He couldn’t plan ahead for what lay beyond.

Megatron took that step, but it felt more like a leap.

Rodimus hadn’t expected much from the kiss, but sparks flew.  His knees went weak when Megatron’s hand came up to cup his cheek.  He could have so easily lost himself in everything this kiss was and let his frame lead the way, but their second meeting came rushing back with all of their baggage.

He pulled away.

Rodimus looked down, but didn’t step out of Megatron’s reach.  “Sorry, I… just, after everything, it’s… it’s not as simple, now.”

“I know.”  Megatron reluctantly released him.  “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay.  Really.” Rodimus smiled at him and took a hold of both of his hands.  “For us, or me, I guess, it’s easy.  It’s ‘yes.’  It’s ‘I want to try this.’  But for everyone else, it’s…”

“None of their business.”

“I know, but, it kind of is.  ‘Cause you’re… you.”

“Mm…”

“But… if you want to try being together, I think it’s worth the scrutiny.”

“Are you okay with this?”  Megatron rested a hand over Rodimus’ racing spark.  

Rodimus kept that hand there.  “Who hasn’t tried to kill their partner, right?”  He bit his lip.  “It’s… we were at war.”

“It was still wrong.”

“Yeah…”

Rodimus shook his helm, as if he was shaking those thoughts from his processor. “Okay.  Since you’re trying to get a new start here or whatever, let’s just… start fresh.  You and me. Like I’d stayed in Tarn and we got to see where this was going.  Okay?”

“Alright.”  

“I know it can’t be exactly like that, but… I just don’t want us carrying all this scrap around with us.  We’re just two mechs in a relationship.  ‘Mkay?”

“If that’s what you want, Rodimus.”

“I just wanna be with you.  Because it really does just… feel right.  I dunno why.”

Megatron lifted one of Rodimus’s hands to his mouth and left a gentle kiss.  “Some sparks are just drawn to each other,” he whispered, “and we don’t know why.”

Rodimus smiled.  “Poetic bastard.”

After sharing an amused and quiet moment, Megatron asked, “Are you still as insatiable as Hot Rod was?”

Rodimus grinned and pressed himself to Megatron.  “Wanna find out?”

#megarod #rodimegs #megatron #rodimus #mtmte #valveplug #hannah dont look at this #starvonnie writes #megarodweek

[crookswithbooks]

Let’s Play A Game

Day Nine - Eddie has a cold and Richie assures him that he’s not going to die in typical Tozier fashion.        ��       

Eddie was going to die of hypothermia.

He was certain of it. He had checked his pulse and his temperature only about a million times that day and he had spent the last half hour researching symptoms. He had a runny nose, a fever, and he couldn’t stop shaking. When he called up Richie to say his goodbyes, he found not sympathy but instead amusement.

“You’re not going to die,” Richie assured him. A couple of minutes ago he had been lounging on his bed in preparation for reading some dirty magazines he had garnered from the convenience store, but this was much more interesting. “You probably just have a cold or something.”

“A cold is only the first step to hypothermia,” Eddie warned him gravely. He paced up and down his bedroom, wrapped in about a million layers. In the background, hot water was running for a bath. “First it’s a cold then you start to feel a slight tingle in your body and then your limbs have all fallen off. It’s a slippery slope, Richie! A slippery slope!”

“Fine, fine,” Richie said, rolling his eyes on the other end. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll come over there and together we’ll figure this out. This, which will probably be nothing. Because you’re not dying and you don’t have hypothermia.”

“Actually, denying hypothermia is a very common symptom of hypo—”

Richie hung up the line before he had to listen to another rant on the subject. He kicked the dirty magazines off his bed, going over to grab his shoes and coat. “Maybe another time, Jennifer’s boobs. Maybe another time.”

He slid off the bed and went to go assure his boyfriend that he was not going to die at the humble age of fifteen.

Richie’s hands were warm and Eddie reluctantly fell back into the embrace. There had been a solid five minutes in the beginning where he wouldn’t even let Richie get near him, but after the other boy had assured him that hypothermia was not contagious he suspiciously relented. Eddie let out a gentle sigh as Richie cuddled into the back of his neck, his arms clamped tightly around his middle.

“Okay,” he said, smiling softly. “I will admit, this is helping.”

“I told you.” Richie grinned triumphantly. “Tozier hugs make everything better.”

Eddie didn’t respond, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that said something was bothering him. Richie sighed, waiting for the inevitable. “I’m still pretty sure I have hypothermia though.”

“For the last time, if you had hypothermia, you would be dead right now,” Richie grumbled. “Though I could speed the process up if you don’t shut about it.” He playfully bit the other boy’s earlobe and Eddie shrieked, reaching back a hand to smack him.

“Not funny.”

“Eds, do you actually believe you have hypothermia?”

Eddie was silent for a moment. “No, I guess not. That doesn’t mean I can’t worry about it though.”

Richie pulled away, much to the disappointment of Eddie, and kneeled on the bed so that he was facing him. “Alright, I’ll prove it to you. Sit up.”

Eddie slowly uncurled from his roly-poly position and sat opposite him. “What are you going to do?”

Richie reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. “Give me your hand.”

Eddie raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Um, how about no? What are you going to do?”

“Do you trust me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Eddie. Edward. Eds. C’mon.”

Eddie rolled his eyes back to the ceiling, but eventually held out his hand. Richie grabbed it, turning it so that just his index finger was pointing out. He took a penny and carefully balanced it on top. Then he sat back and waited.

Eddie let a couple seconds go by before he asked, “Okay, so? I can balance a penny on my finger. What does this prove?”

“You’re not shivering,” Richie pointed out. Eddie paused as he realized this was true. “ It’s the first symptom of hypothermia. If you were shivering, the penny would have fallen.”

“So I’m not shivering,” Eddie scoffed. “That doesn’t prove anything. Maybe I’m in stage three.”

“I wasn’t finished. I’m going to ask you a couple of questions and I need you to answer me rapid fire, okay? How long have we been dating?”

“What are you talking about—”

“Rapid fire, remember?”

Eddie fixed him with a look. “Approximately one year now.”

“Specifically?”

“I don’t know…” Eddie racked his brain. “I guess nine months? Like, nine and a half maybe?”

“Good. What was the first nickname I was assigned when we started school?”

“Bucky Beaver? Because of your—”

“Big front teeth, whatever,” Richie cut him off, flushing. “Bad Question, okay. What is two times seven.”

“Fourteen.”

“What is the capitol of Argentina?”

“What—I don’t know!”

“Fair point,” Richie agreed. “I don’t know that either. That was a test though, and you passed!”

Eddie crossed his arms. Often he found himself annoyed with Richie’s antics but it was even worse now that he didn’t know what was going on. “What was the test? How fast can you piss off Eddie Kaspbrak?”

“You love me,” Richie said cheekily, booping his nose. Eddie smacked his hand away, flushing violently. “And no, that was not in fact the purpose of the test. You just evaded two more symptoms, confusion and memory loss.”

“Oh.” Despite himself, Eddie found that Richie’s game was working. He was calmer now, and though he still felt like crap he was starting to agree that the symptoms were far different from hypothermia. “What’s the next test?”

Richie beamed, happy that Eddie was on board now. He never minded helping his boyfriend out of a funk, but if he was going to do so he liked to do it in typical Trashmouth style. “It’s simple. I want you to say, ‘I love Richie Tozier.’”

Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes. “Right. How exactly is that relevant? I thought we already covered memory loss.”

“Just do it,” Richie demanded, waving a hand expectantly.

Eddie took a deep breath, leaning his head back. “I love Richie Tozier. There.” He was trying to glare at him, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. It was impossible sometimes to resist Richie’s ridiculousness. “Are you happy?”

Richie was. No matter how many times Eddie said it, he never got tired of hearing those words. “Yes. Almost.”

Richie clambered off the bed and grabbed a notebook and pen off the dresser. He threw them at Eddie, pushing up his glasses. “Now write it.”

“God Richie, how much self-validation do you need?”

Richie blushed, but kept his tone cocky as he said, “More than you could possibly know. Just write it, will you?”

Eddie sighed and made a show of dramatically flourishing the pen and setting them to paper, each stroke deliberate and elaborate. And Eddie said he was extra. When he was finished, he showed the paper to Richie, where in neat legible letters it read, I love Richie Tozier. “Does this do it for you? Do you want me to put a little kiss next to it as well?”

“Shut it. You’re just lashing out because you know it’s true.” Richie took the paper, shoving it in his pocket for later. Okay yeah, so maybe Richie was going to stare at the words for hours that evening, but could you really blame him? “The next two symptoms were slurred speech and fumbling hands. You just disproved both. Now there’s just one more test.”

“Just one?”

“Just the one. I need you to close your eyes for it, though.”

Instantly nerves flooded Eddie’s body and he crossed his arms protectively. “No way. How do I know you won’t do something weird?”

Richie held up one of his hands in mock salute. “I won’t do anything, I promise—Scout’s honor.”

Eddie bit his lip, thinking it over. Finally he relented, squeezing his eyes shut. For a couple minutes nothing happened and Eddie was almost worried that Richie had left him alone and this whole thing was some kind of stupid prank. “Are you going to do anything or—”

His next sentence broke off as hands slid under his shirt suddenly, sliding up the stretched skin of his back. He tensed, a deer frozen in headlights. He could feel the heat of Richie’s body as he slowly wrapped him in a hug, the form very familiar to him by now. Richie softly peppered kisses up his neck and paused inches away from his ear. A pleasant shudder ran down Eddie’s spine when Richie spoke, his breath sending miniature vibrations over his skin.

“How do you feel?”

Eddie was frozen. “Huh?”

“Wide awake? Like you’re never gonna sleep again?”

He did. In fact, Eddie had never felt more awake in his life. “Y-Yeah? I suppose. Why?”

“Then you just beat the last symptom—drowsiness.” Richie leaned down suddenly, blowing a raspberry against his neck and causing Eddie to shriek, shoving him off of him.

“Oh you asshole,” he growled, grabbing a pillow and beating the taller boy with it. Richie ducked, holding up a hand weakly to protect himself. “That was unfair and you know it. What happened to Scout’s honor?”

“I forgot to mention,” Richie said, seizing the pillow and launching his own attack. “I was never a Scout.”

“You dick—”

Richie only laughed and the night slowly devolved into pillow fights and madness.

Not that Eddie minded.

#it #it 2017 #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #reddie #twelve days of ficmas

[ranposlittle]

um pleeeease dazai scenario with s/o having a panic attack 🥺🥺🥺

A/N: ((TW: Panic attack, mentions of violence)) Another lengthy scenario! My gosh ahaha but its bcos I really wanted to depict what it feels to have a panic attack accurately so I tried my best to describe it. I also find it fascinating how panic attacks can happen out of the blue. The plot is kinda inspired from my own experience and I tried to make it as fluffy as I can. I hope you enjoy this~ (ㆁωㆁ) I also took some lines from “Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You” by Cigarettes After Sex ehehe

***

You plopped down on one of the pillows laying on the floor while the bowl of warm popcorn is snugged tightly in the crook of your arm. It’s movie night and you can finally spend a quiet night together with your boyfriend after you survived one of the most distressful time to occur in Yokohama, your final exams.

“Don’t you mean the war between the ability users that turned people into savages and could’ve destroyed the whole city before your heroic of a boyfriend came swooping in and saved the day?” Dazai asked ever so smugly. He obviously had his hands full as of lately too, that’s why you nearly haven’t seen each other for almost a month.

“Yes, that was stressful too but that still wouldn’t have excused me for not taking the exams. Trust me, our math teacher would’ve killed us twice if he finds out we skipped the tests and we’re still breathing. College is just as deadly, you know?” You retorted and shove a handful of popcorn in your mouth.

Dazai just chuckled and snatched the bowl out of your arm before giving you a quick peck on the lips as if to console you, “Alright, don’t eat it all. The movie hasn’t even started yet.”

You let out a small whine and slumped on your position. You decided to find a comfortable spot as Dazai reached over to feed the CD into the player. He rented a movie before coming over and you set up your entire room to be the coziest it can ever be.

The lights are all turned off and the only light source is the one coming from your TV. There are pillows everywhere and you whipped out your oversized wool blanket for the both of you to share. You snuggled close to him and rested your head on his chest. The movie of the night is a horror-thriller type. You’ve always enjoyed these kind of movies ever since you’re little and Dazai purposely chose this because of that reason. You’ve watched countless of movies like this before so you’re not worried about getting spooked in one bit. Dazai wrapped his arms around you and relaxed his body against yours.

The movie started as one usually does, introducing characters and setting up the plot. This one is about a mysterious serial killer roaming around an otherwise peaceful town. A cliche plot, you thought. Although, its predictability is perfect to rest your mind from all that thinking and just mindlessly enjoy it. Both you and Dazai just sat in silence, watching the TV blankly until it’s time for the first kill.

It’s pretty obvious that that’s what going to happen next but for some reason, you feel a light clutch on your chest. You ignored it. It’s been a while since you’ve watched any movies so maybe you’re just getting anxious with the suspense of it all. You shift on your position as you feel your heart starts to rapidly pulsate against your ribcages almost in sync with the climatic background music from the scene playing in front of you. As a result, your breath started to become shallower and quicker. You don’t understand. The movie isn’t even scaring you one bit, but why is your body reacting this way?

You pulled the blanket closer to your chest and you squeezed it tightly. You kept your eyes on the screen in hopes that the feeling will just go away once the scene is over. You can already tell what’s about to happen and you just have watch it unfold in front of you.

One guy decided to check out the weird noises coming from the dark basement; he didn’t even try to turn on any of the lights thinking that it’s probably just a cat making a fuss. He slowly descended down the stairs as the music picks up its pace even more and it’s starting to flood your head with each grating note. He shrugged his shoulders and started to head back upstairs. The knife-wielding killer emerged from the dark and slowly moved towards him, the music notched a note higher to accompany the suspenseful scene and the pressure on your chest progressively tightened.

Your head started to feel light and heavy at the same time and your surroundings began to warp into a blur. All you can think about is the shrill noise from the TV and the undeniable fact that you can’t breathe. And almost at the same time that the killer plunged his knife into the guy’s stomach, the seams of your mind seemingly broke.

You gasped loudly as your body started to shiver uncontrollably. The sounds emitting from the TV has now reached it’s highest peak as the movie continued and you feel like your head is about to burst from the screeching noises. You wanted to scream but your throat closed up, your lungs are burning and all that you can do is gasp for air erratically as tears runs from your eyes like a waterfall.

Dazai sprung from his position to hold on to your shoulders as you begin to shrivel on the floor. You can feel him shaking you while he calls your name over and over again.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong, huh? What’s wrong?” He palmed the hairs that have fallen on your face to check on your state, “C'mon, baby. Please tell me.”

You can hear the panic over his voice but you can’t stop shaking. You can’t stop the sobs and the flowing of your tears. You feel like your heart is about to stop at any given moment with the speed it’s going right now and your mind is just completely absorbed in the thought that you’re about to die, in which just resulted into more frantic breathing and trembling.

Dazai is, to say the least, shocked to see how this instantaneously took over your whole being. His mind raced as to what might’ve caused this but more importantly, how can he save you from this.

He has seen this before. His line of work made it possible for him to see people in different state of minds. He has witnessed people getting a panic attack even if a few hours have already passed since the actual trauma had happened and even if your attack was unprovoked and there’s no real danger around, he knows that the best course of action is to let you ride this out.

He calmed himself with a sigh and pulled you closer. Hugging you tight enough for you to feel his comforting warmth while still offering you space to breathe. You grabbed the back of his shirt harshly as you continue to violently gulp for air like a fish out of water. He started to stroke your hair gently, letting his shirt get soaked from your tears in the process.

“Shhh,” he cooed at you, “I’m here, baby. It’s okay. You’re perfectly safe in my arms. I got you. Just let it all out.”

Dazai’s gentle reassurance gave you a grasp of safety somehow and you shut your eyes tightly, letting yourself sob loudly on his chest; tears pouring down like never before. With every heave of your breath, you push out the heavy weight pressuring down on your chest.

“That’s it. You’re going to be okay. Just let it go. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, okay, baby? As long as I’m here, you’ll be just fine. Nothing’s going to take you from my side, okay? You’re safe here with me.” Dazai pressed a kiss on the top of your head and rubbed your back. Ever so often, he would squeeze your arm lightly as if to remind you that your reality is here; the one where you’re protected between his arms.

Dazai kept on repeating these assuring words and shushing your quiet cries until the contraction on your chest seems to have been unknotted. Your breathing has now returned to a deeper and calmer one with just the a few instances of quivering sobs. Your eyes are swollen and tired, your throat stings with all the cries ripped from it, and your mind blanked from the sudden trauma.

Dazai pulled up the blanket up to your shoulders that fell off of you when the attack happened. He carefully cupped your face and lifted it, making sure he won’t shock you if you’re still in the state of panic. He sweetly smiled at you when your eyes met his and he rubbed the stain of your tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. Dazai proceeded to pepper your face with small loving kisses and placed a longer one on your swollen lips.

“You’re okay. You did good,” he once again affirmed you and tucked in a loose hair behind your ear.

“Dazai, I… I’m sorry. I don’t know why it happened. This hasn’t happened before and I-”

He kissed you again before you can finish blabbing out an unnecessary apology, “Hey, don’t worry about it, okay? It’s alright.”

“The movie wasn’t scary or anything. I seriously don’t know why it affected me this way,” you explained as you don’t want him to think he can’t bring horror movies anymore in your next movie nights.

Dazai chuckled, “I know. Panic attacks can happen to anyone, in any give time, without an actual trigger or real danger present. Your stress might’ve just increased your risk of having one but that’s about it. I’m just glad I’m here to take care of you when it did hit.”

You’re speechless as you revel on Dazai’s affection. You just smiled at him warmly and hope that it would somehow let him know that you are truly thankful for him. He truly is the heroic boyfriend he boasts to be. You lay your head on that comfortable spot between his neck and shoulder and closed your eyes. You wanted to know what you did to win this jackpot in life but you’ve decided that maybe every once in a while, you just get really lucky.

The movie is still playing faintly on the TV and you peeped on one eye to see that the killer’s been killed by the only character that survived.

“Such a cliche,” you mumbled which made Dazai laughed. He better start looking for a more exciting movie to impress you on your next date. On second thought though, he might just bring over some family friendly comedies for a while.

The credits rolled as you drifted off to sleep. Your body and mind very much exhausted from the whole ordeal, you feel like you can sleep for a whole day. You can softly feel Dazai’s fingers running through your hair and another tender kiss on the crown of your head.

“I love you.”

Those words danced around your fleeting consciousness and you’re not quite sure if you’ve really heard it or you’re already dreaming. Either way, you answered.

“I love you, too.”

#bsd hcs #bungou stray dogs imagines #bsd headcanons #bungo stray dogs #bsd dazai #bsd x reader #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs scenarios #bungou stray dogs imagine #bungou stray dogs #bsd scenarios #dazaimw

[flightfoot]

Ladycat Ch. 8

AO3

Chat Noir and Master Fu stared at the record player on the floor, secret compartment empty.

“Well, this isn’t good,” Chat Noir stated.

Master Fu nodded mutely.

----

Nino examined the video, trying to figure out exactly where to make his edit. 

Let’s see… need to try and cover most of its body without concealing its feet and…

There!

He adjusted the size of the pink poptart, dragging it over to the gray kitten’s body. 

A few splices later and a new nyan cat video graced the internet, courtesy of the bouncy kitten who’d sprung all over the city a few hours earlier.

Sighing, Nino checked his phone. He frowned. “This isn’t like her,” he muttered, worried.

It was FAR from the first time he’d texted his girlfriend and not gotten a response for awhile. But usually just checking the news would tell him why she hadn’t messaged him.

This time several hours had gone by without a response, and with no clear reason behind the delay.

He didn’t like it.

And with Ladybug’s disappearing act added onto that? 

He was seriously considering biking over to the Cesaires, uninvited or not. If something bad was going down he wanted to be there at Alya’s side. 

Especially with what happened on Heroes Day…

He shuddered. Seeing her take that arrow for him, seeing her twisted, her love turned to hate, and her subsequent akumatization was one of the worst experiences of his life. He’d had nightmares about it every night since, and he doubted it was going away any time soon.

A news alert popped up on his phone.

Ah! So there was an akuma after… all…

He blinked.

HAWKMOTH was active?! Again?!

Was this going to become a regular thing?!

And the cat by his side… was that an akuma? Or one of those new creatures, like that purple moth that blew them all away last time they faced him?

*knock knock*

“GAH ah ah- oh,” Nino startled, only calming down once he saw the culprit. “Dude, don’t scare me like that!” 

He opened the window for Chat Noir, expecting the cat-themed hero to simply jump through.

Instead he deposited some random old man in Nino’s room first.

“Um… dude, who’s this?” Nino asked, pointing to the stranger.

Chat rubbed the back of his neck. “This is gonna be a long story…”

Nino stared.

And blinked.

And stared some more.

Chat Noir - wait he’s ADRIEN, what the hell?! - waved his hand in front of Nino’s face. “Nino?”

Nino shook his head. “Sorry, dude. That was just… a lot.”

Adrien laughed bitterly. “Tell me about it.”

Nino winced. 

“Don’t worry about me, I already had my freak out over Father’s actions,” Adrien hastened to add, noticing Nino’s expression. 

He really thought that was enough? “I don’t think this is the kind of thing you can just get over in a few hours.”

“We came here for a specific reason,” the old man spoke up, taking off his bracelet.

A bracelet that suddenly looked very familiar.

“Nino Lahiffe, will you bear the Miraculous of the Turtle once more?”

-----

A few minutes later, Chat Noir and Carapace bounded towards the Agreste Mansion.

Fu was currently staying with Nino’s parents. Turns out “Chat Noir’s dropped by and needs to leave this elderly man somewhere safe for awhile while I help him with something” was all the explanation they needed before sitting him down and piling food onto his plate. 

Chat Noir’s baton beeped. He stopped, opening it up and expanding the screen so Carapace could see.

“RENA!”

The heroine blinked, then smiled. “Miss me?”

“I was worried! You’re never silent for this long!”

She chuckled. “I’ve seen too many movies to risk leaving my phone on while I’m sneaking around.”

Her smile fell, resuming a serious expression. “You two need to get over to the Agreste Mansion right away, I’m on the second floor. I found Nathalie… and the Peacock Miraculous.”

-----

Looking at her resting on so many pillows, Adrien would’ve thought Nathalie looked peaceful.

After seeing his mother in her own magically-induced coma though? He couldn’t quite make himself see it that way. Especially after learning that she’d used the same broken miraculous that had evidently put his mother to sleep.

An arm came around his shoulder. 

“How’re you holding up?” Nino asked him softly.

“I…”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nathalie. 

Intellectually, he knew that she would probably be fine if she stayed here.

But part of him was still scared.

Scared that she’d vanish or die or… or just leave him in some way.

“Do you need a hug?” 

Adrien nodded mutely, still not taking his eyes off his unofficial caretaker. Off of the woman he suspected (and had been hoping) would become his stepmother.

Nino embraced him, squeezing him tightly, but being conscious of Adrien’s line-of-sight, careful not to get between him and Nathalie.

The pressure broke something within Adrien. 

He sniffled once.

Then twice.

And finally broke down.

It took a few more minutes to get through it this time, Nino gently stroking his hair all the while.

At last he looked up, eyes still rimmed red. He took a shaky breath. “We- we need to get the Peacock Miraculous back to Fu. And- and I want to get Nathalie to a hospital - to somewhere safe.”

Nino’s eyebrows drew together. “What about-?”

Adrien shook his head. “I can’t move Mom. I don’t know what’s going on with her, it might not be safe. I HATE leaving her there, but- but I’d hate accidentally hurting her even more.”

“I can take the Miraculous to Fu,” Rena chimed in. “It’s not like I don’t know where Nino lives, and I can hide myself better than you two can.”

Chat nodded. “Th-thanks. We’ll head back afterwards, so just be on the look out.”

------

Rena Rouge slipped through Nino’s bedroom window.

Hm… you know, if she got to keep her Miraculous, she had the feeling this wouldn’t be the only time she got to do that…

She shook her head. Focus Alya! You can think about sneaking over to see your boyfriend later!

Besides, it’s not like she actually NEEDED to sneak over. She was more than welcome at the Lahiffes, just as Nino was treated as one of the family over at her own house.

Still… sneaking over held a certain allure to it. It just felt exciting to get together in secret, even if it was something they could do normally.

“Rena Rouge? Where are the others?”

She jumped about two feet.

So the whole “don’t get distracted by your own thoughts” plan had failed.

“They’re fine, just taking Nathalie to a hospital before heading over here.” She fiddled with her flute, opening up a hidden storage compartment within it. These weapons were absurdly versatile. “I was assigned with bringing this back to you right away.”

Fu leaned in, getting a closer look at what she had in her hand.

“The Peacock Miraculous-!” he gasped, looking shocked… and a bit scared?

Maybe because it was broken? It’d already put one person in a coma and may have hurt a second one after all.

Gingerly he took it, as if afraid it would leap over and bite him. 

“Are… you okay?” she asked.

He sighed. “Miraculous should never be misused. This one especially. I learned that the hard way.”

Wait, what? “You’ve used it before? What happened? Does it have anything to do with how Hawkmoth got ahold of it? How-?”

She stopped, noticing Fu’s pained expression. “I- I would prefer not to talk about it. Please. Not unless I have to. I made a big mistake when I was young, one I cannot take back. One that I’ve had to live with every day since then. I do not wish to relive it while I’m awake, when I already cannot escape it while I sleep.”

Her stomach curdled with guilt. “...Sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

This wasn’t the first time this had happened though. Sometimes she got started talking, asking questions, investigating, and it took a little while for her to realize that the other people around her were getting uncomfortable or bored, or that something else was going on with them that she needed to pay attention to instead.

Luckily everyone in class was pretty understanding. Most people had had the experience of getting really excited or concentrated on one thing, to the exclusion of everything else. It was just a little more pronounced with her than with most of the others - though Max could give her a run for her money, with how utterly engrossed he ended up being in whatever project or activity he decided to work on.

Fu examined the brooch. His eyes lit up. “I think I can repair this.”

Alya blinked. “Wait, seriously?!”

He nodded. “So long as I have the right tools and potions at least.”

“...Would these happen to be materials the Lahiffes have on hand?”

“How do you feel about retrieving some things from my shop while I start?”

------

Chat Noir and Carapace climbed back through Nino’s window, having dropped Nathalie off successfully.

Luckily people didn’t usually question two superheroes when told to keep an eye on a woman in an enchanted sleep.

Adrien thought about telling them that she had been working with Hawkmoth, but couldn’t quite make himself do it. Not when she’d apparently objected to his latest plan, with his father even knocking her out to ensure she couldn’t turn on him.

She still shouldn’t have covered up for him all this time, nor helped him near the end of Heroes Day, but… but he just couldn’t make himself turn her in. 

Laughter thundered from the direction of the living room.

He and Nino looked at each other questioningly. “Do your parents like watching comedies?”

Nino shook his head. “Haven’t found a lot of good ones.”

They entered the living room.

“Have there always been this many bottles and…” Adrien picked up a round flat object that had fallen on the ground. “Gongs in here?”

“Oh, you’re just in time!” Fu greeted them, looking happier than Adrien had ever seen him. 

Not that he’d seen him very often.

“In time…?” Adrien asked, confused.

“We’ve been working on fixing the Peacock Miraculous for the last few hours,” an exhausted-looking Alya told them, leaning against a nearby doorway. “Repairing Miraculous takes some weird things.”

“Does this have anything to do with the laughter we heard earlier?” Adrien asked.

Fu nodded. “A tear of joy! Ladybug helped me discover that secret ingredient.”

The mood instantly dimmed.

“Any word on her?” Adrien asked.

Alya grimaced. “A few sightings, but no havoc just yet. I think they’re trying to find us first instead of baiting us out. Hawkmoth doesn’t have a lair to retreat to this time, no safety net if he fails. I can see why he’d be more cautious.”

“At least it buys us some time,” Adrien noted.

“Speaking of that…” Alya turned to Fu. “Is it ready?”

He nodded, carefully unwrapping a small cloth bundle.

“The Peacock Miraculous…?” Adrien said.

It looked a little different from before, the colors more dark blue and purple rather than the traditional peacock coloring from before.

“This is hardly the first time a Miraculous has been damaged,” Fu said. “Luckily the Grimoire contained detailed repair instructions.”

“So then…?”

“It can be used safely now.”

Adrien grinned, moving to put it on. Fu stopped him, holding up his hand. “Just because it can be used without harming the wielder does not mean it should be used carelessly. The consequences of creating a sentimonster without firmly understanding what you put into it can be disastrous.”

“What do you mean?” Adrien asked. “Doesn’t a sentimonster just do what you want?”

Fu shook his head. “Sentimonsters are created based off of emotions. The Peacock Miraculous wielder’s explicit intentions play a large role in determining what kind of creature is formed, what it’s like, but their hidden emotions can distort those intentions. 

Fu fiddled with his hands, making motions to turn something on his wrist, stopping when he realized he no longer had the Turtle Miraculous. “If you are say, hungry when you make the sentimonster, and… and angry at the Miraculous, at what they’ve done to your life, you can create a creature that- that will stop at nothing to devour all the Miraculous and anyone who gets in the way of that goal.”

Judging by the way Fu’s voice was shaking, Adrien doubted this was purely a hypothetical.

He may not be the only one coping with losing people.

Gently he reached out, putting his hand on Fu’s shoulder. “Thank you for telling me. Do you have any advice?”

Fu took a moment to compose himself. “Do not concentrate on hate or destruction. Try to set your mind to something else instead. Something that’s less likely to go out of control.”

That… may be difficult. Whenever he thought of his father, betrayal and fear roiled in his gut. 

If he was going to create a sentimonster, he needed something to counteract his feelings towards his father, even if the sentimonster was meant to help him defeat Hawkmoth.

What calmed him? Made him feel safe?

Ah!

“Claws in!”

Plagg spiralled out of the ring. Adrien threw him a piece of cheese, then rummaged through a different pocket.

Nino blinked. “You really weren’t kidding about carrying Marinette’s Lucky Charm with you everywhere, huh?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Marinette made it, how could I not?” 

Nino gave him an exasperated look. Adrien couldn’t understand why, the logic seemed obvious to him.

Alya just smirked.

His friends had weird reactions whenever he talked about Marinette.

“I don’t think we can do this alone,” Adrien said, putting on the brooch. “It took the three of us, PLUS Ladybug and Queen Bee to have a shot last time, and Hawkmoth still has Panther with him. We’re gonna need some help.

Duusu, spread my feathers!”

Adrien transformed, his skin turning blue, a blue tuxedo tail coat replacing his usual clothing.

Holding up Marinette’s Lucky Charm, he concentrated.

We need help.

The three of us can’t do this by ourselves.

We need something strong, something that can turn the tides of battle, even when things seem hopeless, like Ladybug does.

His eyes locked on the four-leaf clover on the bracelet.

Marinette gave him this bracelet when he kept on losing to her. Truthfully he knew that the bracelet had nothing to do with her wins, but the kind smile she gave him as she handed it to him, her soft voice as she told him to just try playing with it…

Whenever he saw the charm, he remembered that moment.

How she’d just earnestly wanted him to feel better, even if it was just over losing a match.

She was so smart and brave too. How could he forget the way she helped with Evillustrator, volunteering to go on a date with an akuma? Heck, she was even the one who figured out how to escape Evillustrator’s trap!

If the sentimonster could be just a little like her, they might have a chance.

He infused the feather with his emotions, touching it to the lucky charm.

A purple mass began to form in front of him, lengthening out, forming five off-shoots that began to resemble…

...Was that a human shape?

#ladycat #Miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe

[writersrealmbts]

Beary Scary

Description: Hybrid!Namjoon x reader: Namjoon is out party hopping for halloween with his friends when he meets his mate, and she’s dressed like his hybrid species. 

Angst/Fluff

Posted: 10/28/2019

Tags: Hybrid au, Hybrid Namjoon, 

Wordcount: 4,105

A/N: So, I did something a little different with this one, but I really hope you like it!

Namjoon laughed as he followed his friends into the next party, wondering how they somehow knew everyone around here. They were dressed as zombies because it was "easiest" and because Taehyung had wanted to practice the stage makeup he'd been learning. He didn't even mind his friends pointing out that he was a zombie-bear. He was a hybrid, the bad jokes were normal, especially among his friends.

The exceptions to their group of zombies were Yoongi and Seokjin. Yoongi was a ghoul, his pale complexion usefully emphasizing the darker areas of his face. And Jin was a werewolf, which wasn't actually that far off since he was a wolf-hybrid.

This new party was a little more mellow and jolly than the last one, less grinding and more goofy antics. There was one couple, dressed in forties attire, swing dancing to Monster Mash and immediately capturing the interest of the drunk dancers in Namjoon’s friend group.

He went to the snack table, grabbing a couple "caterpillars" and popping one in his mouth. This place was one of Jin's friends, and the one Jin had been most excited about. In the next room, Halloween themed Disney cartoons were playing, and others were playing some homemade Halloween game and seeming to have fun.

He laughed to himself as someone dressed in a cute bear costume came backing out of the cartoon room, tripping slightly but laughing.

Then he smelled her.

He swallowed hard, his feet taking him to her side before he could really think it through.

She shrieked a bit when she finally noticed him, then was crouched on the floor with a hand over her heart. “Dear God, sorry, shit. You scared me.”

“S-sorry, um, sorry,” He offered her his hand.

She took it, and he felt his whole body tingling at her touch. She looked his costume over with a smile. “Cute! A zombie bear!”

He was pretty sure Tae would die if he heard his work called cute, but he smiled a little. “I, uh, I really like your costume.”

She glanced down at it, as if unsure of what she was wearing, then looked up with wide eyes. “This isn’t offensive, is it?!”

He laughed a little. “No, it’s cute! Really, really cute.” He looked at his feet shyly.

She giggled a little, and he thought he might die. Did she really just get cuter? “You’re Jin’s friend, right?”

“Oh, yeah, you know hyung?” He was a little surprised. He’d thought he’d met almost all of Jin’s limited friend circle. Usually strangers were Tae’s, Jimin’s, or Hoseok’s friends.

“Uh, yeah, this is my place. We’re both in the play that’s coming up,” She explained, smiling the whole time.

“Y/n!” Jin came over, throwing an arm around her shoulders, obviously a little past tipsy. “That punch is a work of art.”

“Thanks, you made it,” She said grinning.

“I did?” He looked truly surprised. “When?”

“Earlier today, you came over, mixed all of the liquids and told me what to add and when. I only deviated once from your very detailed instructions.”

“Oh yeah,” He breathed, then noticed Namjoon. “Namjoonie! You’ve met Y/n! She’s the romantic lead in the play I’m starring in!”

“I’m preparing to be the most hated girl on campus,” She laughed out, shoving Jin off. “He’s already got a huge fanclub and guys are never as fanatical about theater as girls are.”

“Doesn’t Namjoon’s makeup look good? Taehyung did all of us! Isn’t he scary?!”

She rolled her eyes, meeting Namjoon’s afterward with a smirk. “Yes, Jin-oppa, beary scary.”

Namjoon choked on his cup of punch.

Jin cracked up. “That was a beary good pun!”

“Thank you beary much,” She replied without missing a beat. Definitely sober.

“You’re beary welcome,” He giggled out, petting her head. “Cute.”

Namjoon really hoped his hyung would pass out or leave or something before he had to threaten murder for all the bear puns.

Thankfully, Jimin came to drag him off because of something or other that Jin needed to see or experience or something.

She was shaking her head, meeting Namjoon’s gaze again. “Sorry, I just had to see how punny he gets when he’s drunk.”

“It’s okay,” He said, finding that he was grinning still. “Um, so…uh….”

“You’re majoring in music production and philosophy, right?” She asked, smoothing over his stutters like they never happened.

He needed a stronger drink if he was going to continue looking at how cute she was. She was a bear, for pete’s sake. A cute bear, with cute ears, and a cute tail, and her makeup was just so…cute! “Yeah, yes, yes.”

She nodded slowly, seeming a little more amused. “So, do you not talk to women often?”

“I do, really, um,” He cleared his throat and glanced around, “It’s just….”

“Just?” She prompted, cutely confused.

God, he needed a different descriptor. But his mind seemed stuck on how adorable she was. Oh.

“Just…that…um…do you…know anything about…hybrid’s mates?” He finally ventured to ask, nervous about how she would react.

She looked thoughtful. “Yeah, they can tell by scent alone most of the time. Jin talks about it. Why? Is yours here?!” She looked excited for him.

He found himself nodding, despite knowing that he actually needed to verbalize his answer and tell her it was her.

“That’s awesome! Who?!” She was grinning, hands tucked into the adorable bear paws at the ends of her sleeves. Her eyes sparkled in the lights all around the party. Her eyeliner was different on each eye, just slightly, but still different.

Namjoon swallowed hard, looking over the face of his…maybe-mate. “Um…well…it’s kind of….”

Her smile faded with concern, head tilting adorably. “Namjoon-ssi? What’s wrong?”

He looked away, toward his friends, who were drunkenly dancing with each other, then back to her.

She looked worried about him. “Do you need some water? I’ll go get you some water.” She hurried toward the kitchen and he didn’t have it in him to object.

He groaned softly to himself, a little growl to the groan as well. He turned and waved down Seokjin, who hurried over looking worried.

“What’s wrong?” Jin asked, looking more sober now.

“Hyung, I can’t tell her! We need to leave!”

“Whoa, tell who what? Y/n?”

“Yes, y/n,” Namjoon replied partially, dropping his head to the elder’s shoulder. “She’s my mate, hyung. I knew it the moment I smelled her, but it isn’t the same for humans. And she’s so damn adorable that I can’t even get a complete sentence out! Please can we leave?”

The wolf-hybrid sighed, carefully petting Namjoon’s head. “If that’s what you really want,” He finally replied quietly.

“Hey, here’s that water,” Y/n said as she came back with a cup of water.

Namjoon forced a smile, taking it and sipping. “Uh, we’re gonna go. I’m…I’m not feeling too well.”

“Oh, okay. Feel better,” She said, her gaze drifting to the food table in worry. “Oh god, I hope it wasn’t the food.”

“No! It wasn’t your food, at least,” Namjoon quickly said, unable to handle seeing her somewhat distressed.

She seemed somewhat relieved. “Alright, well, I hope you feel better, Namjoon-ssi. Seokjin-oppa, do you want me to round up your friends?”

Jin nodded. “I’m going to take Joonie outside.”

She nodded again, waving to Namjoon before heading toward the dance floor and pulling aside Taehyung.

Namjoon couldn’t tear his gaze away until she was out of sight and he was outside, gulping in the crisp night air.

Jin was stroking his hair comfortingly. “It’s okay, Joon-ah. At least now that you know, you can slowly introduce yourself into her life. It’ll be okay.”

Namjoon just let out a distressed sound, letting the older wrap him in a hug.

Yoongi was the first to come out. “What happened? That was the least stressful party yet?” He muttered, obviously drunk.

“Namjoon isn’t feeling well. Where are the others?”

“They’re coming. Jungkook was trying to get someone’s number. Why didn’t you tell us that your friend was so cute, hyung? And how come we haven’t met her before today?” Hoseok asked, grinning as he leaned on Yoongi.

Namjoon heard his teeth clacking before he could register that he was going to do it, and intermittently letting out low moans of distress.

Seokjin quickly pulled Namjoon back to him, rubbing his head. “Shush, Hope-ah. Namjoon’s not well.”

“Sorry, hyung, we tried to rush Jungkook, but you know how he is,” Taehyung chirped as he skipped out.

Jimin was behind Jungkook, making sure the youngest didn’t turn back.

Namjoon squeezed his eyes shut.

“Fine. Let’s get Joon back to the house before he has a meltdown,” Jin said, looking to Yoongi for support.

Yoongi nodded. “Come on, brats. All or none, right? You can watch a movie and stuff yourselves on the Halloween candy I got.”

“Yay!” Taehyung cheered, hopping and then skipping along.

Namjoon felt worse. Making his friends leave the party just because he was a coward.

Jin didn’t leave his side for long. It was sort of a pact they’d made since they were the only hybrids in their group. They stuck with each other. Normally, it was Namjoon helping the elder since Jin was more emotional and tended to get himself hurt more. Overworked himself.

The others helped too, but having another hybrid help when distressed was definitely more comforting. They knew the ticks and tricks to help the other through whatever issue was there.

Which was how Namjoon ended up spending the night beside Jin, getting pets and comfort until he fell asleep.

The next day was actually Halloween.

“Man, am I feeling last night,” Yoongi grumbled, mostly to himself at the dining-table as Namjoon sat down.

“Hyung, how are you so chipper?” Taehyung asked, watching Jin make an omelet while humming.

“I’m a responsible drinker,” Jin replied cheerily.

“Feeling better, Namjoon-hyung?” Jimin asked, smiling at him tiredly.

“Yeah, how are you?” Hoseok asked, finally looking awake after half-an-hour of sitting at the table.

Namjoon let his gaze drop to the table. “Oh. I’m…much better.”

It was quiet following his answer.

“Just tell them, Namjoon-ah. I’ll make sure they don’t tease you, or push you, or anything else,” The wolf-hybrid said, a slight threatening growl as he obviously addressed each of those things to the others at the table. He put the rolled omelet on the table, making sure Namjoon got part of it before it was scarfed down by the ravenous boys.

Namjoon took a couple bites, trying to gather his scattered thoughts, and courage. “Um…I found my mate last night.”

Everything went still again, some stopped chewing, chopsticks froze in midair, he wasn’t even sure they were breathing.

“That’s…a good thing…right?” Jungkook asked, sounding uncertain.

Namjoon slowly nodded.

“Then…what happened? Is she dating someone else?” Yoongi asked, sounding confused.

“Who?” Hoseok asked, sounding cheerful and happy.

“Y/n,” Namjoon murmured, setting his chopsticks aside, not looking at the others.

It was quiet again, but not as quiet as before.

“She seemed really nice?” Taehyung sounded bewildered.

“And she’s hot,” Jimin added, helpfully.

Namjoon just nodded. “She’s adorable.”

He could feel their confusion in the air.

“Finding your mate is a big thing,” Jin finally broke the silence. “But it’s a very hybrid thing. Knowing our mate by smell alone is something that can be hard for humans to understand and can lead to rejection, which is even harder for us.”

They were still quiet, which was unnerving.

“I’m a coward, okay?” Namjoon snapped, standing up. “I couldn’t tell her. I chickened out and I begged for us to leave while she went to get me water because she thought I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Hyung, it’s okay to be scared,” Jimin said softly.

Namjoon just clacked his teeth and quickly left, feeling like he was losing control again.

Jin followed. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Namjoon just moaned in distress again, pacing a little before letting the other hug him again, scenting him a little.

“It’ll be okay. They get it, Namjoon. Really, they do. I promise,” The older whispered into his ear.

Another set of arms wrapped around Namjoon, and he could smell Jimin already.

Tae was nearby, probably about to—

And there was a third set of arms around him.

Hoseok quickly joined, pulling Yoongi and Jungkook in as well.

Then the doorbell rang.

He peeked out as Jungkook went to peek out the window.

“Uh, it’s y/n,” He called back.

Namjoon groaned, burying his face in Jin’s shoulder. “I don’t exist. Kill me now.”

“As warm as bear fur is, you don’t even have enough to make a decent hat. Let her in, Jungkookie.” Hoseok disbanded the hug easily, pulling Namjoon away from Jin and quickly flattening the crazy bed-head.

“Morning, sorry to drop by so early, but I wanted to get the lights back to you,” Y/n said, addressing the last part to Jin as she let Jungkook take the box she had with her. “I also brought that taco-dip I owed you. Freshly made, don’t worry.”

Jin grinned. “You’re the best. Did you get everything cleaned up?”

“Better than most of the other houses did, apparently. I actually got to go to bed with a clean house. Namjoon-ssi, are you feeling better?” She asked.

Namjoon swallowed hard, hoping she hadn’t noticed him staring. Even out of costume and with barely any makeup she was adorable. Breathtaking. She was wearing an oversized sweater, jeans, and converse highs. Her hair was a little messy, maybe windswept.

Yoongi jabbed him in the back.

“Uh, yeah, a little.”

She didn’t quite look like she believed him. “Okay, good.” She glanced away from him, and then looked to Jin. “I’ll get out of your hair then.”

“Wait! Uh, we’re doing a scary movie marathon tonight if you want to come,” Hoseok quickly said, grinning at her. “Just bring a dish to share.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude—”

“No way, you’re more than welcome!” Tae followed up cheerfully. “We’re having korean barbecue!”

She hesitated. “Well….”

“Please? You hosted us, it’s only fair that we return the favor,” Jimin pleaded softly, voice saccharine and face angelic.

Namjoon could kill them all.

“Um, okay, if you insist,” She replied, seeming a little reluctant still.

“We do,” Jungkook delivered the last blow with a grin that Namjoon couldn’t wait to wipe off his face.

She nodded. “Okay, I’ll try to bring something yummy. Just, nothing too scary?”

“With Hobi-hyung in the house? I wish,” Taehyung folded his arms.

Hoseok gave her a sheepish smile. “I can’t do too-scary movies. They’re mostly Halloween-themed movies.”

She looked relieved, and Namjoon wished he’d been the one to put that expression on her face. “Oh, good. I was afraid I’d be hiding behind a pillow the whole time.”

“Nope! You’re in good company here! And don’t worry about a costume, either. We’re going super cas, and some of us will probably be in pajamas.” Jin finally added himself to the conversation with an apologetic look in Namjoon’s direction.

She nodded, gaze flicking to Namjoon for the briefest of seconds. “Okay. I’ll see you all tonight, then.”

“Yup, see you,” Jin said as he saw her out.

Namjoon glared at Hoseok. “What was that?”

“It’s called getting you more time with her,” Hoseok answered calmly. “You want her to be okay when you tell her, maybe getting to know her and spending time with her is the—I don’t know—logical first step?”

“Don’t antagonize him, hyung,” Jimin said softly. “It’s okay to be scared, but you’re sending her the wrong messages right now. You’re making her think you don’t like her at all. That’s why she wanted to refuse. You’re lucky we’re persistent and you’re totally sitting next to her tonight.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? She thought I didn’t like her?”

“Well, you’re not the best liar in the world,” Jin said weakly. “And I do recall us making some…pretty bad bear-related puns last night. She probably thinks she offended you somehow.”

Namjoon groaned and flopped onto the couch. “Did you see how gorgeous and adorable she was? I was staring and I thought she caught me, I panicked!”

“Hyung, I think you’re making this harder than it has to be,” Taehyung said. “I think Y/n would understand.”

“Guess we’ll find out, depending on how tonight goes,” Yoongi said dryly. “We better clean the house. Especially the bathrooms. I heard girls are fussy about bathrooms.”

“With our movie lineup, it’ll be pretty late, one of us will have to either walk her home and let her stay in one of our rooms so she’s not walking home at such a late hour,” Hoseok said thoughtfully.

“I’ll make sure my room is clean, just in case she stays that late,” Jin replied softly. “I know her best, so if she stays, then she’ll be the most comfortable with taking my room and my room has a lock on the door.”

The others were staring at him suddenly.

He coughed awkwardly to get rid of the growl. “Sorry.”

Jin just looked amused. “The point being that she can make sure no one touches her. Even if she finds out about you being her mate tonight, she’s not likely to sleep with you. Even in a platonic way. I know she’d feel safer having a door that locks between her and others. Alright, Yoongi, off to the store with Jungkookie. Taehyung-ah, go study for your test on monday.”

“Aw, hyung,” His face screwed up as he complained.

“I’ll help you, Taehyung-ah,” Namjoon said quietly, tugging on Seokjin’s sweatshirt in aggravation.

Jin rolled his eyes, taking it off and putting it over Namjoon’s head. “I’ve got to get cleaning. Hobi?”

“I’ll start on the bathrooms, hyung,” The other said cheerfully.

Namjoon shoved his arms through the sleeves, keeping the hood up so that the smell was close. He normally wouldn’t be so insistent about scents. He really needed to get over this.

By the time the evening rolled around, Namjoon was jumpier than the bunny hybrid in his math class when hopped up on enough caffiene for three people.

Jin snarled at him after he dropped a dish, the glass shattering all over the floor.

Jimin managed to hop up on the counters and slide away from the mess, but Jin was trapped.

Yoongi gave Taehyung a broom and started vacuuming under the cupboards after tossing a small dustpan and broom to Jin.

Hoseok pulled Namjoon away from the kitchen by the hood of the Jin’s sweatshirt. “Best stay out of the way, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon groaned. “I didn’t mean to break it.”

“It’s okay. He didn’t mean to snarl at you. It just surprised him, and some of the glass might have hurt him.”

“I’m pathetic,” Namjoon protested.

“You’re not pathetic, hyung,” Jimin said, wrapping around Namjoon. “You’re just out of your element.”

“And shy,” Hoseok added, eyebrow arching with a smile. “It’s okay, Namjoon. But maybe don’t wear Jin’s sweatshirt while Y/n is over. She might think that Jin is your mate and you freaked because of that.”

Namjoon groaned, but was hesitant to pull the sweatshirt off. “But…it’s….”

“Mine, now give it,” Jin ordered, limping over to them. “It doesn’t even smell like me anymore, I bet.”

“It does,” Namjoon pouted a little, not wanting to give up the security sweatshirt.

Jin forcefully pulled it off, then froze, listening. “She’s here. Go change into your blue shirt, Namjoon. The loose one. Jimin, get the door.”

Namjoon was frozen, but Hoseok quickly pushed him along to his bedroom, pulling the shirt Jin had said to wear.

“Come on. It’s okay. We’re just watching movies and eating food. No big deal.”

“She’s my mate,” Namjoon whispered. “My beautiful, adorable mate, that I can’t make conversation with. And don’t think I’ve forgotton your tone last night when you were talking about her.”

Hoseok smirked. “And if I flirt with her, what are you going to do? Growl at us?”

Namjoon looked away. “Don’t be a jerk.”

“Then talk to her or I will. Or worse.”

“Worse?”

“Worse, Taehyung will. He was talking about how hot she was last night, you know.” Hoseok leaned against the door. “Jin will make sure you’re sitting next to her, but you’ll have to make sure you keep that seat.”

Namjoon growled a little playfully, finally able to discern the teasing in his friend’s voice. “Come on. Just, try to help me relax?”

Hoseok nodded, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “You got it.”

Y/n looked adorably comfortable, curled up in the corner of the couch and laughing at the conversation between Jimin and Taehyung—the latter of which apparently committed some sort of treason against his best-friend.

Jungkook plopped next to her. “So, are you dating?”

“Which answer will get you to give me some space?” She asked back, good natured in tone, and smiling, but eying the lack of space between them.

Jin was laughing at Jungkook’s stunned expression. “Find somewhere else to sit, Jungkookie. You know Namjoonie is sitting in the middle.”

“Oh, should I move?” Y/n asked, suddenly looking uncertain.

“No, just Jungkook,” Hoseok answered, patting her head.

She looked unsettled by that gesture, but soon shook it off and waved at Namjoon with a small smile.

He managed to smile back. “Hey. How was your day?”

“Good, really good. Yours?”

“Yeah, good,” He answered, but winced afterwords. It sounded as awkward as he felt. “I was helping Taehyung study for his test and was a major klutz, but good.”

“Yeah, the dish, Jin told me about that. It happens.” She shrugged, looking a little more comfortable. “I already told him not to worry about it, too.”

“Wait…what?” He looked between the two, noting the slew of bandaids on Jin’s propped up foot, and feeling bad.

“It was one of my dishes. We exchange food once or twice a week, so we usually end up with each other’s dishes. We usually just give them back with food in them instead of making a special trip. But like I told Jin, it was two dollars at the resale shop. I’m just glad no one was hurt—well, not badly anyway.” She shrugged.

Namjoon eyed the headband she was wearing that had bear ears. “Um…nice headband.”

She looked confused while the other boys snickered, her hand reaching up and feeling along the headband till she reached the first ear.

Her eyes widened. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I forgot my roommate put that on my head.”

“No! It’s cute! Really, I don’t mind!” Namjoon quickly said, holding his hands out, wanting to stop her from taking it off but not daring to touch her.

Her gaze darted between him and the others, uncertainty completely plain on her face.

He let his gaze and hands drop. “It’s really, fucking adorable.”

When he got the courage to glance at her face again, she was staring at him with wide eyes.

“Oh,” She breathed out. “Oh! I’m…because you…me….”

“And you call yourself an actress,” Jin muttered, obviously joking.

She chucked a pillow at him without looking, gaze still fixed on Namjoon—who didn’t dare look away. “I’m your…mate….”

He nodded slowly, clenching his jaw so that his teeth wouldn’t clack.

“But then, why did you hide it? Did I do something wrong?”

He shook his head, still struggling with words.

“Did you think I would reject you?” She asked gently. “I know there are a lot of people who aren’t open-minded about that.”

He hesitated, then nodded once.

“Well, I wouldn’t have. I’m not. I understand how hard rejection can be.”

“It’s scary,” Namjoon whispered, studying her face. She was wearing a little more makeup than she had been when she was there earlier in the day, but less than last night.

She giggled. “Beary scary.”

He choked on a laugh. “Okay, but there’s a limit to the puns.”

“Sorry, last one.”

He looked at her curiously.

She shifted so she was sitting on her feet and facing him on the couch. Her smile was gorgeous, and the way she was looking at him happily was seriously breathtaking. “I would beary much like to get to know you, at least.”

He felt himself grin. “I’d like that too.”

--

Masterlist

#halloween story madness #halloween story #hybrid!au #hybrid!namjoon #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #hybrid!seokjin #min yoongi #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #Jung HoSeok #namjoon x reader

[ruinins]

—  ϟ  ›  ( bae suzy, cis woman, she/her )  ⋆  you know , the gossip in london is insidious , and gossip about a HALFBLOOD ( SEER ) like SYBILL TRELAWNEY seems to constantly be afloat. what i know for a fact , though , is that they’re a TWENTY THREE year old DRAGONOLOGIST who graduated as a RAVENCLAW from HOGWARTS. someone they went to school with told me that roaring flames just tenderly brushing your cheek, the subtle wrongness of a reflection in the mirror, crackling records playing on a phonograph, the gentle flickering light of a firefly, and a million glittering pieces of a broken crystal ball & THE LOVERS always reminded them of HER. maybe that’s why the WITCH has publicly declared their allegiance to NO ONE ? 

x

NAME : sybill trelawney ( no middle name ). NICKNAMES : none, technically, but she does have a korean name she uses at work—sihyeon—which her mother gave her. DATE OF BIRTH : march 9th, 1958. HOGWARTS HOUSE : ravenclaw. ZODIAC SIGN : pisces sun, scorpio moon, sagittarius rising / year of the dog. AGE : twenty - three. GENDER / PRONOUNS : cis woman & she/her. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : bisexual, biromantic. PLACE OF BIRTH : belfast, ireland. EYE COLOR : dark brown. HAIR COLOR : black. HEIGHT : 5’4. SCARS : scar on her lower back ; burn scars littering her arms.  ETHNICITY : korean. PARENTS : trelawney, silvius ( father ); trelawney, victoria née kang ( mother, muggle, † ). SIBLINGS : only child. MARITAL STATUS : single. OCCUPATION : dragonologist. LANGUAGES : english, korean, some mandarin chinese.

CARD CORRESPONDENCE: sybill’s card is the lovers, reversed, representing her doubts in herself, her career, the people who surround her, and how cynical she’s become.sybill has always been littered with self-doubt. for herself, for the lineage she’s been born into, for her dubious gift that everyone insists isn’t really there. having no one believe in you takes a toll on a witch. she’s haunted by a need that never leaves her, a need to prove herself and her sight, a need that has only worsened with time ( no one knows how nauseating it feels, to face a portrait of the great cassandra trelawney after receiving a dreadful in divination ). there’s something to be said about fake it until you make it, but sybill never quite manages to make it. slowly, the doubt has been sinking its claws into her, and she’s been shrinking away from her wants and focusing more on other things, practical things––her aimless job, her aimless life.

 until recently, sybill wandered through life with a certain naivete. it’s served her well, like most things in life that aren’t the second sight. but then, she let someone close, let herself believe they cared about her, let herself open up only to be stabbed in the back. figuratively and literally, by the scar that still stings whenever she reaches behind to brush her hands over it. she’s changed, become aware of the snakes in the grass––become aware that they don’t always look like snakes. this mistrust in others is slowly bordering on paranoia, but she can’t seem to make it stop. people call her a falsifier, a manipulator, a fool; why shouldn’t she meet energy with energy, insult with insult, distaste with distaste ? 

ministry file / pinterest board  ( EYES TW for the board ) / playlist

tw: murder ( mentioned, also attempted murder ), neglect ( ? ), parental death ( skip paragraph beginning with ‘sixteen’ ! )

zero.

you don’t know this, you’ll never know this, but it was your father who named you. hunched over your laughing mother and clutching your tiny fist between his fingers, tears streaming down his face, he pleaded sybill, call her sybill. an oracle of delphi born anew. in a few weeks, you will both be the subject of controversy: the girl who’s birth ended the pureblood trelawney line, and the pureblood who fell for a muggle. but for now, you are loved.

eight.

you live in a cottage, small and hidden, tucked into a nook of ireland where there are more animals than people. this is purposeful. your father has a manor in london, a hanok in korea, but it is this cottage where the three of you can live at peace. your father is gone most days; you have no idea what he does. instead, your mother teaches you things, practical things. “what if you lose your magic; how will you cook then ?” you think her reasoning is silly, but you play along - even if your father comes home to a look of distaste when he sees you manually scrubbing dishes.

something happens to you. you’re outside, playing, when you reach out to pet a cat that’s just appeared - and a haze settles in. fog clouds your mind, your sight; there’s nothing. no darkness, no void: there is just nothing. and then there is your mother, frantic, choking on tears as she shakes you. later, your father will grin. “has my little sybill inherited cassandra’s gift ?” he’s joking, of course. no one in the family has had cassandra trelawney’s inner eye in generations. 

but when you’re taken to a healer, nothing is wrong. nothing they can find, anyway. and a spark lights in you.

sixteen.

your mother is dead. your mother is dead. taken from you while you couldn’t protect her, while you were in school; your father insists he took his eyes off of her for just a second, but you don’t believe him at all. he’s always wanted you to be more witch than muggle. he’s never understood that she’s both, in a way, and that that’s okay. you wonder if he killed her or if he sent someone to do it, instead. either way, he is a coward and a fool and you hate him; this, you tell him.

the next christmas break, you don’t visit home.

eighteen.

you don’t come home for summer break, either. you don’t come back at all until after graduation, to face cassandra trelawney’s portrait and beg for guidance. for help with your gift. the gift that has abandoned you, it seems, along with your mother. 

you apply, young and naïve, for the position of divination professor at hogwarts. as if anyone would hire you. the rejection stings, but what hurts more is having to face your father. he seems to have planned this outcome all along, and when he offers to help you find a realistic job using his connections, you want to do the filthy muggle thing and punch him.

you take his offer, however, when he reveals it’s in korea. away. that is what you need. away from him, away from london, away from that damned portrait. a week later, you’re in seoul. a week after that, you’re a dragonologist-in-training.

twenty two.

you travel, often. your specialty is hatchlings, and the reserve has begun to branch out, so they send you on missions to other reserves - get an egg, bring it back. in one of your travels, something happens, something unexpected: you meet someone. they’re charming, kind. when you tell them about your gift, their eyes light up. they believe you. you trust them fast.

you don’t see them often, but when you do, it’s incredible. you think they might be something special. you want them to be something special.

then, that night. you’re not sure what happened. everything is a haze; you’d been feeling like that for hours, feeling wrong. they were aggressive. they wanted something. and that fog, the one that had only flickered to life once every few years, was returning. for a moment, you knew nothing. and then you knew blood. the taste of iron, the way it stuck to your fingers. they’d stabbed you. surely, they had; there was no one else in your home, no blood but yours staining your floors.

your father is the one that finds you by a stroke of fate. takes you to a healer. you live, but something in you dies. 

if you ever see them again, they will wish they’d finished you off with the killing curse instead.

twenty three.

you’re back in wizarding london. it’s been years. technically, you’re here for work - “the macfusty’s have to have a hebridean black egg, sihyeon; do well and find us one.” - but you seem to have fallen right into a budding war. you don’t want anything to do with it. you will go in, get an egg, and get out before anything terrible happens. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS 

hogwarts friends / enemies / bullies  ––  for, um, obvious reasons, sybill wasn’t terribly popular at school. i’m literally down for anything from hogwarts, from close friends who drifted after her mother died to people who terrorized her for making prophecies and being a “false seer”, to those she finessed with her you’re going to die in a week-type proclamations.

THE STABBY STAB  ––  so when i was coming up with this i very much wanted sybill to be stabbed instead of cursed bc a) stabbing is something that can be So Personal and b) it’s more of a muggle thing, and it’s fitting for someone who does often to things the “odd”/muggle way to find her ( almost ) end in the same way. i really..... don’t have much else for this connection; the way i visualized it, this person was probably looking for a seer for Some Reason, and whatever sybill told them during her vision - bc she did have a Real Prophecy that night - it wasn’t something they wanted to hear. or something they wanted to get out. sybill definitely had romantic feelings for them, but this obviously didn’t need to be reciprocated - the relationship could’ve been 100% platonic. does this character regret The Stab ? did they kind of want her to live ? are they prepared for the suplex she’ll give them On Sight ? 

ruin me, ruin us, and i’ll let you  ––  this is, incredibly enough, not a romantic connection. i mentioned in my now-deleted gonetalk post that i love platonic soulmates; this is that. whether they connected instantly or they had to slowly get accommodated to each other, i want someone to have an Unbreakable Bond with sybill. they don’t have to already be friends, maybe it slowly happens, but eventually they’d both do anything for each other. if u have read the poppy war series, yes this is very much a wc based off of rin and kitay, those are the Vibes i’m going for.

this town’s only big enough for one cowboy  ––  I DON’T THINK THERE’S ONE YET BUT IF U ARE PLANNING A SECOND CHARACTER..... . .. picture this: someone who’s a seer who is actually competent, and can actually prophesize well instead of Whenever The Inner Eye Wants To. the jealousy ! the rivalry ! the mocking ! the shame ! GIVE IT TO ME NOW....

family friends ? family ? cousins ?  ––  i have sybill’s family being purebloods up to her, so i’d imagine she has a few distant family members or family friends running around ?  i imagine her father runs in pro-death eater circles but isn’t one so !

#* intro. #me: i wont do a graphic #me 2 seconds later opening photopea: #uhh warning before u open this it's... Long #eye tw #j-just in case bc one of the little dots is a weird eye #ALSO WCS AT THE END !

[blake-belladonna-defence-force]

Okay, so if you're up for it, how about something with Team RWBY getting all dressed up for the Schnee Mansion Dinner (that they know probably wont end well but whateves) and have the bees not only be awestruck at each others outfits but, I dunno, have a cute little moment where one of them fixes the other up and they just get lost in each others eyes for a moment? If this could feature Suffering!Weiss that would be the cherry on top.

I like where your mind’s at, mate.

There is a bit of angst regarding Adam not allowing Blake to really explore her gender expression and how she wants to present herself. Naturally, Yang puts those insecurities to rest.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Grapes!”

Despite the whole Schnee dinner situation being less than ideal for Blake, she couldn’t help but smile her partner’s grumble of frustration from the bathroom.

“You know…” Blake called pulled her short hair into a low ponytail, leaving some out to frame her face. “You could just swear. You’re a big girl.”

“Blake. A little less sass, please.” Came the disgruntled reply, but Blake’s sensitive hearing picked up on a quiet laugh.

“You like my sass.” Blake called cheekily as she gave herself a once over.

She was wearing a suit, black blazer with gold accents and the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, short sleeved light purple button down under her blazer, form fitting black pants and black heels with gold accents. She smiled at herself, adjusting the black tie so that it was a little looser than was strictly appropriate for Atlesion culture.

She didn’t think that a lot of Atlesians would be impressed with a woman wearing a suit. Especially the Schnees. But she really couldn’t care less. She had always felt more comfortable in more masculine clothes. Oh yes, she enjoyed dresses and makeup. But there was something about a more masculine or androgynous style of clothing that felt far more like her.

She had never been free to explore her gender expression like this before. Adam had always been so controlling. Quietly suggesting certain styles. Pointing her to what he expected of women. How he wanted her to look.

And it hurt. It hurt to conform to another’s expectations of her. It hurt believing that who she wanted to be, wasn’t beautiful to him. So she let go of that style that felt so natural to her. Each time he told her that women don’t wear this or women don’t do that… she felt another little piece of her crack.

But she was free. Her cracks were filling with gold and her wounds were healing. Yes, she still hurt. Yes, she still felt his influence over her. But it was growing less and less the further she got from him. She knew now that how he treated her wasn’t right. That it wasn’t love. It was pain and it was control. She was never a partner, but a possession.

And now? She could be herself. She could be a dork. She could be bold and confident. She could be playful. She could laugh and smile. She could express herself and the people she cared about would listen to her. She was allowed to be angry and passionate. She was allowed to be Blake.

And she could finally look in the mirror and see the woman she wanted to be.

“Dammit.” Yang cursed. “Hey, Blake?”

“Yes, Yang?” Blake answered as she ran a final check in her makeup.

“Um.” Yang sounded embarrassed. “The back of this stupid dress is giving me trouble. Could you zip me up?”

“Of course.” Blake said as she walked over to their bathroom and knocked on the door. “Is it safe to come in?”

She heard a click and waited a moment before walking in, giving Yang time to cover up.

And when she did? Blake was sure she was having a heart attack. Yang had opted for a gold gown that carried past her knees, down to mid shin. The collar of the dress sat around her neck, keeping the dress up but the zipper, starting at the base of her spine and stopping in between her shoulders. It wasn’t too loose, nor too form fitting, showing off toned arms and shoulders. Blake felt her mouth run dry.

“Blake?” Yang called over her shoulder.

“Oh.” Blake snapped her shelf out of it and approached Yang, taking a moment to acknowledge the fact that she held the slightest height advantage when she was in heels and Yang was barefoot. “Sorry.”

She approached Yang and gently pulled the sides of the dress together and started to pull up the zipper.

‘Huh. She even has freckles on her back.’ Blake thought to herself before a flush coated her cheeks. Maybe it would be better if she stopped focusing on her back. ‘Even if it t is a nice back.’

Blake’s face was definitely red as she pulled the zipper up, a shiver running through Yang as Blake’s knuckles accidentally grazed her spine. She made sure that the zipper wouldn’t come undone and stepped back, letting out a shaky breath when Yang turned around to smile gratefully at her. Her makeup, though Blake had already seen it considering she had done it, didn’t over power her features. Instead it emphasised them and Blake was pretty sure she was going to die because Yang was a dangerous amount of gorgeous.

Yang’s smile fell slightly, mouth falling open as she looked Blake up and down, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and biting it, a blush of her own coating her cheeks.

“Wow.” Yang whispered, walking up to Blake and pausing, a surprised look crossing her features when she had to look ever so slightly up. Blake knew it would be short lived untilYang put in her own shoes but she still enjoyed the slightly flustered expression on Yang’s face. “That- you look incredible.”

“Me?” Blake laughed softly, eyes softening when Yang reached up to adjust her blazer. “I’m wondering if I’m looking at my partner or an angel.”

She giggled as Yang’s blush darkened and she continued fiddling with Blake jacket.

“Shut up.” Yang huffed, stepping closer unconsciously. Blake’s hands instinctively found their way to Yang’s waist as the brawler ran her hands over Blake’s shoulders, straightening out her jacket. “Let me successfully compliment you this one time.” She whined with a pout, her hands moving to Blake’s collar and adjusting it.

“Now, where’s the fun in that?” Blake murmured, gaze on Yang’s face as the woman carefully adjusted Blake blazer. When it was deemed adjusted, she looked up at Blake and caught her staring.

“You’re staring.” Yang said whispered, hands still resting on Blake’s shoulders.

“Can you blame me?” Blake said softly, ears relaxing as Yang’s thumbs stroked her shoulders. “You’re beautiful.”

Yang’s eyes widened and she bit her lip, smile fighting its way into her face.

“I-“ Yang let out a nervous laugh. “Thank you. You look beautiful, too.” She paused, a thought coming to mind before she spoke again. “Or do you prefer handsome?”

“Oh.” Blake blinked in surprise. Having somebody ask her what she felt more comfortable with was certainly a new feeling. “No, I’m okay with beautiful.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah.”

The two women stood quietly in each other’s arms, gazing into each other’s eyes, more than okay with letting the world pass them by.

“You… really like it?” Blake asked, old insecurities getting the best of her as she gazed at Yang in concern.

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” Yang said gently, reaching up to cup Blake’s jaw. “What matters to me is that you feel comfortable. That you feel like you. Your beautiful because of who you are, Blake, not what you are. But I will say this…” Yang grinned at her, a playful glint in her beautiful lilac eyes. “You definitely need to wear suits more often. They suit you.”

“Thank-“ Blake blinked as her mind processed the pun and she let out a pained groan, dropping her head to the crook of Yang’s neck as the other woman snorted. “Why are you like this?” She complained, despite the smile on her face and the giggle bubbling from her lips.

“You love it.”

Blake pulled back to haze at Yang, shaking her head fondly at her ridiculous partner, another giggle falling from her lips as she butted her forehead against Yang’s affectionately.

“I… suppose I am kind of fond of you.” She murmured, smile soft and tender. “Terrible puns and all.”

“Just kind of fond?” Yang questioned in a manner that was almost coy, tugging Blake closer by her jacket. “Don’t lie. I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.” Yang smirked cockily, hands on Blake’s shoulders again.

“You won’t get any argument from me there, Yang.” Blake whispered, pulling Yang as close as possible by her waist, thumbs stoking soothing circles into it.

Yang’s smug expression slowly dropped into something more unsure and vulnerability.

“No?” She asked, voice thick, eyes averting self-consciously.

“Yang.” Blake said gently, bringing Yang’s gaze back to her with a gentle hand on her jaw. “You were, are and will continue to be the best decision that I could ever make.”

Yang’s eyes widened before she leaned into Blake’s palm, gazing at her with a tenderness that made Blake’s heart stutter.

Neither girl said anything, lost in the moment and each other’s gaze. Blake with one hand on Yang’s waist and the other cupping her jaw, thumb stroking her cheek. Yang held onto said hand with her prosthetic one, thumb stroking the back of it as her other hand cupped the back of Blake’s neck.

“What is taking so-“ an indignant voice yelled as the door to the bathroom was pushed open. “Oh my God. Are you kidding me?!”

It was probably a good thing that Weiss interrupted otherwise they may have stood there forever.

“We have a dinner to get to! Stare at each other on your own time!” Weiss growled as she threw Yang’s shoes at her head, the blonde woman catching them effortlessly as she rolled her eyes at Blake, twirling a finger at her temple and mouthing “crazy” at her. Blake covered her giggle with her hand. “Blake! I told you to make sure you were both ready on time!”

“I got distracted.” Blake shrugged, smirking at a very angry Weiss. “So sue me.”

Blake tilted her head curiously when she noticed Weiss’s eye twitch. Was she developing a tic?

“Just… be down stairs in five.” Weiss said wearily. “Without wearing each other’s lipstick.”

And with that Weiss stormed off, leaving behind two flustered partners.

“Um.” Yang mumbled as she put on her low heels and held out her hand to Blake, who took it shyly, entwining their fingers. “We should go.”

Blake allowed herself to be led out of the room, smile soft.

“Hey, Blake?” Yang asked softly, gazing over at her with a small smile.

“Yes, Yang?”

“How much do you want to bet that Weiss will want to kill us by the end of the night?” Yang’s smile shifted into a playful smirk.

Blake let out a giggle and leaned her head on Yang’s shoulder as they walked, both girls more than content to walk quietly, smirks shifting to soft smiles as they enjoyed the presence of their beautiful partner.

#rwby #blake belladonna #bumbleby #yang xiao long #rwby spoilers #rwby vol 7 spoilers #fanfic

[xbrittaniax]

FNaF: The Rules have changed ch.1

Why, Oh why did Jeremy come back? After the living hell he was put through why would he come back for More? Well while he tried to figure that out he was slamming down on the door button, Shaking his head quickly and muttering at the Purple rabbit to kindly; Stay the hell out. Perhaps maybe It was because He had been on the day shift and was reassured that The Animatronics were fixed. He got curious and needed to see for himself, From what he saw during the day, They seemed much friendlier towards the children and adults, Playing games with them when not performing and they were even trusted enough to be able to Roam freely during the day once again. The layout was much different, They still had the limited power but notice how i said They. Business had never been better at Freddy’s, They were expanding the building once again like when Jeremy was originally a night watch, But the larger building required more eyes to be kept on the place. So 3 Nightwatch offices were installed with separate small generators, Corporate didn’t fully explain how this was required, But Jeremy didn’t question it too much. Considering he could use all the help he could get if in Fact they were still the same demons they were before. Though Jeremy was VERY thankful for the New addition of doors to lock them out with. While we’re on the subject of Three night watch stations… Mike Schmidt was currently on the line, Trying to help keep Jeremy calm. Since he came back to the night shift last night he began having horrible night terrors again when he went home, His breath was often shaky and he sometimes stuttered when he spoke. Mike was new to the job, He had no idea what was so terrifying about them. It seemed easy enough to keep them out. He did admit that he found them creepy but not to such an extreme extent that he was having nightmares. He just docked it up to Jeremy having a fear of animatronics. He figured it was just Jeremy because the other night guard Displayed the same calmness and disinterest as he did. “Jeremy, Where’s Bonnie?” Mike asked, Flicking through his tablet unable to locate the Purple Bunny. “H-He’s um… O-Outside my door.” Jeremy stuttered, Clumsily looking for the other animatronics. “I-Is Chica at your door..?” “Yeah.” He replied boredly, Smacking the door button to close the door on the Chicken animatronic. “Calm down Jeremy, It’s gonna be alright!” He tried to reassure positively. . “E-Easy for you to say I-I’ve been.. Hu-Hunted by these things before…” Jeremy shook as he heard Freddy’s laugh in the distance. “Stop stuttering for God’s sake, You sound like Phone Guy!” Mike grinned as he heard an annoyed grunt from the third line. Jeremy giggled slightly as He heard the third Night guard reply. “You do realize I am still here right?” “I would’ve never been able to tell, You lecture my ear off for the first hour and i don’t hear from you again!” Mike pressed on, He was hoping that maybe if he made some jokes that Jeremy wouldn’t be so scared, And maybe laugh a little and open up, That would be nice too. “I’m sorry, Did you want me to lecture you further?” Phone guy asked sarcastically, Then switched through his own camera feeds. “Wait i don’t understand… Where did Freddy go?” He murmured to himself as Mike laughed. “No, But it’d be nice to hear some personality in this call since i’m not getting it from Jeremy!” Mike teased, Opening his door up Since Chica had FINALLY left. “HEY!” Jeremy pouted, crossing his arms like a child. “I’m just trying not to die! Scott, You said that they won’t stuff me into a suit anymore right?” “Right, They won’t stuff you into a suit or… Y’know... Corporate told me that they just want to Um… Play games, Whatever that means…” Phone guy answered, Casually slamming down the button on the right door to lock Freddy out. “See? Whatever glitches that they used to have, Aren’t there anymore.” Mike said, Then raised an eyebrow. “Did you ever find Freddy? I can hear him laughing.” “Yes.” Scott murmured. “He’s standing outside my door.” “Really? Huh, He must be really loud because it sounds like-- OH SHIT--” Mike screamed as Freddy entered his office.   “MIKE!?” Jeremy jumped up from his seat, Now even more panicked than before. “It’s okay Jeremy i promise you, We don’t keep any spare parts in the back anymore, No more endoskeletons, No more suits, No more heads.” Scott tried to comfort him. “He’ll be fine just try and stay focused.” “Alright..” Jeremy slowly eased back into his seat as he kept an eye on the camera. --- Mike gulped as Freddy unplugged the phone, He had fallen out of his chair when he saw Freddy enter the room and was just now pulling Himself up from the floor. “So um… how are you doing Tonight?” He asked nervously. Freddy peered over at the man, He took a step towards the human then spoke with a scolding voice. “Mike, We don’t use that type of language here at Freddy Fazbear’s.” He was stern, But there was Mischievousness laced in with his tone. “Oh, I’m sorry.. It’s just… You surprised me…” Mike replied, His demeanor at the moment resembled a child who had been caught sneaking sweets before bed. A low chuckle emanated from Freddy’s voice box as he took another step towards Mike, Who in turn took a step back. “I can forgive the scream, Which is also against the rules but We animatronics have no tolerance in swearing. And therefore i must Discipline you.” Mike backed up more until his back hit the wall, Staring in horror up at Freddy. “What are… You going to do to me…?” Freddy took one last step and closed the gap between them, If an animatronic could display facial emotion Mike was certain that Freddy would be grinning evilly down at him. Without replying he grabbed Mike and threw him down into his chair, Then grabbed both his ankles and held them down against the desk with his large paw. “Wh-What are you...?” Freddy was too preoccupied to answer him, He wasted little time unlacing Mike’s shoes and tugging them off then his socks were stripped away with little protest. Mike was still piecing together what was going on. Freddy began lightly stroking a single finger up and down Mike’s left sole. He gasped and tried to hold back his giggles but his feet were extremely ticklish So he ended up bursting out into giggles and snickers within moments. “Whyhyhyhy are you tickling mehehe?!” “I told you, You need to be disciplined.” Freddy answered simply, Now applying all fingers to his soles and arches Still tickling teasingly light. The fabric of his fingers were soft and plush, Which added to the tickly feeling. It also didn’t help that he Played with children all day so his fingers were trained in tickling. Mike gripped at the arm rests on his chair and fell into laughter as he tried desperately to pull his feet away, He immediately discovered was a horrible idea Because it only prompted Freddy to tickle him harder. “You Night guard’s amuse me. You think you can escape, But really you can’t.” He taunted, Applying more pressure. He found that Mike’s laughter gained volume when he tickled around the ball of his foot and around his Arches. Mike threw his head back laughing, Freddy’s fingers lingered around his arches, Having found several soft spots on them. “Ahahahahahahaha! F-Freheheheheddy! Plehehehehehease Stahahehehehehep!” he pleaded, Squirming around in his chair to no avail. Freddy let out another chuckle as he ceased his tickling for a moment, But this was short lived. He found a pen lying on the desk and began using it to exploit the sensitive spots on his arches. Mike gasped and let out a steady stream of hysterical laughter. “NAHAHAHAHA! Ohohohoho Nohohohoho! PLEASE Nahahot Thihihihis!” --- Jeremy switched through the camera feed, Trying to locate the source of sound. “Scott, You hear this too right?” He asked the veteran to make sure He wasn’t being paranoid. “Yeah, It’s hysterical laughter.” Scott responded, Fumbling with the tablet until he found the video feed where the sound was louder. “It’s coming from Mike’s office.” “From Mike’s office?” Jeremy confusedly switched to the feed. “I-Is that… Mike Laughing?” “Well it's none of the Animatronics so i’d guess so.” Phone guy replied, Switching away from the cam and putting the tablet down, Then proceeding to rub his temples in an attempt to stop the pounding migraine he had received. “I think he just split my skull.” Jeremy listened closely trying to make out what was being said, He caught; ‘Please No’ ‘Stop’ ‘Why me’. and ‘Don’t tickle me there!’ mixed in with his laughter. Jeremy switched away and placed his tablet down as well. “Scott, I figured out what Corporate mean’t by ‘They want to play a game’...” “What?” He asked, Slamming his hand down on the left door button in annoyance, Closing Bonnie out. “Freddy Is um… T-Tickling him…” Jeremy hesitated, Twiddling his fingers nervously. “Um… W-What did you just say…?” “He’s tickling him.” Jeremy repeated with a sigh. Scott fidgeted with his sleeves in a nervous manner. “O-Oh… Well That’s… That’s one more reason not to get caught right?” “Yeah…” he replied, Jeremy was unbearably ticklish, He found that out the hard way In Highschool when his girlfriend at the time tickled him as an experiment. He wanted nothing to do with being tickled then or now. He checked his door lights again then brought the Tablet back up. --- By this point Mike was crying with laughter, Tears were rolling down his cheeks as he weakly attempted to reclaim his feet. But Freddy held them perfectly still with minimal effort. It had been about an hour of tickling, But Mike thought it had been an eternity. Freddy placed the pen down and began prodding at his toes playfully. “Let’s play a game, Mr. Schmidt.” Mike attempted to catch his breath as small giggles escaped his lips, He knew what was coming the moment he moved to his toes. The animatronic grabbed one of Mike’s toes and wiggled it. “This little piggy went to market~” He sang teasingly as Mike fell into a fit of loud giggles. He grabbed the next one and sang; “This little piggy Stayed home~” “Ehehehe..!” Mike giggled weakly, Blushing at how childish he must’ve sounded. Especially with that damn bear playing a baby’s game with his toes. “This little Piggy had roast beef~!” He began to wiggle the toe faster, Drawing more giggles and squeals from Mike. “Plehehease... “ “This little Piggy had none~” “Stohahahap…” “And This little piggy went…” He grabbed Mike’s pinky toe and finished the rhyme by not only wiggling the toe, But he also moved down to his arches and soles once finished wiggling his toe. “Wee Wee Wee all the way home~!” Mike was going insane, At this point he thought maybe getting stuffed into a suit didn’t sound so bad. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE NOHOHOHO MORE! I’M SOHOHOHORRYHYHYHYHYHY!” He shook his head as he laughed. Freddy stopped tickling and moved his paw off of Mike’s ankles then chuckled. “Seeing as though this is your first night, I’ll let you off easy… But Next time i won’t be so forgiving. I’ll give you another night to get acquainted with the other animatronics before i become active.” He chuckled then left the office. Mike fell out of his chair and fumbled with the phone plug, Once he plugged it back into the wall he hit the walkie talkie function on it to join back In on the conversation with Jeremy and Scott. “How bad did you say getting shoved into a suit would be?” Mike panted, wiping tears away from his face. “Oh hey Mike, Enjoy yourself? You sounded like you were having a hell of a time.” Scott teased, Though Mike couldn’t see him he could tell that Scott was grinning ear to ear. “I-It’s pretty bad..” Jeremy answered, Looking from the left door to the right one constantly. “How long has this... ‘update’ been in effect?” Mike asked calmly, Checking the tablet. “Hm? Oh… A couple of month’s.” Phone guy answered. “Bonnie, Please go away… I’m not letting you in.” he said calmly to the still closed door. “Okay, How long have you been a night watch?” “S-Since i got moved off the night shift a couple years ago. He took the shift for me.” Jeremy answered for him, He wondered why no Animatronic was really bothering him at the moment, None the less he was thankful. But he was getting paranoid. “Years!? Have they EVER caught you?!” “I’m still here aren’t i?” Phone guy replied, He put his tablet down and quickly slammed down on the other door button. “Well then... Now i have every animatronic after me..” He said calmly, Sitting back down in his chair. “They’re probably angry that they haven’t gotten you yet.” Mike smirked. “Well they’re out of luck. I have no intention of opening those doors for them.” He said loudly as if talking to the doors. “Especially not after listening to what Freddy did to you.” He chuckled nervously, Mike rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Yeah Yeah…-- Wait a minute, You’re scared, aren’t you?” Mike asked with a smile plastering itself onto his face. “N-No of course not! I don’t get scared… Not after all those years of almost dying.” He replied, his voice became monotone at the end. “Oh come on Scott~” Mike sang teasingly. “You know you want them to tickle you~!” “Nope.” Scott shook his head. “I certainly do not.” “But why not~?” “Because i hate being tickled.” He answered blandly. “You know… You’re pretty cheeky for someone who almost got tickled to death by Freddy.” Mike snickered and fumbled with the cameras. “What can i say? I’m a pretty cheeky guy.” “Jeremy, You’re quiet. Are you alright?” Scott asked, Not even bothering to check the door lights, Well aware that they’re still standing there. “Mhm… Hey Scott, Can we all... talk in person at 6?” Jeremy asked. “Yeah Sure… Why is something wrong?” “Nope. Nothing’s wrong.” Mike raised an eyebrow at Jeremy’s sudden change in mood, He found it odd that Jeremy took that casual tone now, Right after Scott mentioned that he hated being tickled. He smirked to himself figuring that Jeremy was going to try to tickle the hell out of him once this was over. “What percent power is everyone at?” Mike asked while placing his tablet down and stretching. “I’m at Twenty percent.” “Ten Percent.” Jeremy replied. “Um..” Scott looked at the power meter on the wall. “You don’t want to know.” “Are you about to get pounced on by every animatronic?” Mike asked with a huge grin. “It's um…” He looked up at the meter again. “Entirely possible…” “Don’t worry, There’s only another minute in the hour.” Jeremy stated, Receiving a groan from Mike. “Already? Wow, Those six hours flew ri--” Scott was cut off by the power going out. “YES!” Mike exclaimed victoriously, Laughing as he did. “Payback for laughing at me!” Jeremy switched over to Scott’s office cam and saw the Animatronics all standing around while Freddy played his little jingle. A church bell sounding off in the distance cut Mike’s celebration short, It was 6 am which mean’t the Animatronics automatically walked back to their respectful places. “Aw man…” Mike sighed while Shaking his head. “Hehe, Saved by the bell.” “Hey Jeremy, Why did you wanna talk in person? Didn’t you get enough of us during the night shift?” Mike figured he might as well ask since Scott can’t hear him at the moment. “After watching Animatronics all night i need to see actual humans.” Jeremy replied, Standing up and stretching then he turned the phone off and walked  to the front of the building. Mike also turned off his phone, But then smirked evilly as he snuck to Scott’s office. He stepped inside then snuck up behind him and poked his sides while mimicking the scream that the animatronics make when they attack. Scott jumped and quickly turned around, He untensed as soon as he saw it was Mike. He gave him a disapproving look and shook his head. “You really think you’re funny, Don’t you?” “Yes.” Mike smiled in triumph, Walking with Scott out to the front of the building. “I swear, You’re just like Vincent.” He muttered, Mike raised an eyebrow and looked up at the taller man as they were walking. “Who’s Vincent?” He asked curiously. “An Employee who’s a little too... Mischievous….” He replied as they got to the front end of the building.

#five nights at freddy's #tickle fic #tickling #mike schmidt #jeremy fitzgerald #freddy fazbear #this is an old fic holy cow #fnaf #nightguard

[honestlyhufflepuff]

The Sleep and Secrets Between Them

Jam Week Day 3: Sleep. Summary: The events of “Escapism” and moments thereafter from Connie’s perspective. Yes, there’s angst, but hopefully that makes the moments of fluff and closeness all the sweeter. Word count: 2038.

***

They slept as much as they could in the tower. It helped fight off the boredom, the aching hunger, and the despair. The air was stagnant and hot, and the floor hard and unforgiving. There were no sweet Pebbles who made the last room they stayed in feel so much like home. The two of them cycled between sleeping tangled in each other’s arms for some source of softness and comfort and sleeping on the concrete alone to avoid the sweat and heat of the other.

Steven being able to astrally project was the only hope they had of rescue, which is why she so willingly offered her lap as a pillow. She started regretting this sooner than she’d hoped, her legs aching against the hard floor under Steven’s weight. He remained eerily still in his slumber. His breathing came so soft that she placed her hand in front of his lips several times to ensure he was still alive. The earth was an unfathomable distance away, and Connie wondered what would happen to them if he couldn’t find help, or if he couldn’t find his way back to his body.

She shook her head violently, rejecting all the grim possible outcomes of their situation. She had to continually choose to believe in Steven. Dwelling on the alternatives was not productive.

Hours passed, and still Steven slept. Connie’s eyelids grew heavy, and several times her head snapped up before she almost fell forward on top of him with exhaustion.

She picked up Steven’s hand and dropped it a couple of times. It always landed heavy and limp, with no indication of stirring. She nodded, confident she wouldn’t wake him, and slid her hands under each arm. With a few heaving pulls, she got him close enough to the wall that she could rest against it. She lowered his head to the floor and attempted to stand to stretch her legs.

Connie buckled on her knees immediately, wincing as pins and needles shot through her awakening blood vessels.  She limped and stomped around the room, cursing under her breath, until she regained sensation in her limbs. She paced around the lengths of her prison, hating that all she could do was wait while her passed out best friend relied on his iffy psychic powers for their rescue. Her stomach roared at her and her throat burned for moisture. Serial murderers got more humane living conditions than this on earth.

“Stupid space-nazi bitches,” she muttered to herself.

It felt like a warranted situation to cuss in, being in prison and all. Despite that, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her mom could hear her from light-years away.

With a sigh, she resigned to sit back down and wait for Steven to return.

Leaning against the wall, she pulled his head back into her lap, making sure to sit with her legs to the side so they wouldn’t lose feeling as easily this time. She stroked his cheek, feeling a very faint island of stubble on otherwise baby-smooth skin. She straightened his pink clothes, which had gotten bunched and rumpled when she moved him over to her. She marveled at how naturally he donned the outfit and role of his late mother like it was just what he was supposed to do.

“Steven,” she croaked, clearing her parched throat, “I know you’re sorry for leaving me behind, back when you tried to go and sacrifice yourself, but I know you’d probably do it again if you knew I wouldn’t get pissed at you. You always want to shield everyone to the point that you try to do all the dangerous stuff alone while you leave them behind.”

Curls of hair stuck to his forehead, and she wiped them away. “I know you regret bringing me with you because you don’t want me to get hurt. But I chose to come here, because the earth is my home, too. I couldn’t stand to live in a bubble while you did all the hard things; I’d rather die. I might die. But if I do, it was my choice.

“If we don’t make it out of here- or if I don’t- I want you to know that it isn’t your fault. I want you to know that I’m ok with you making me like Lars, if you can, because I want to continue to fight for my planet for as long as I can.

She swallowed the lump of tears in her throat, not wanting to get dehydrated anymore than she could help it.

“I know your mind is back on earth, and I hope everything is going ok there, but I hope some part of you can still hear me. Because I want you to know that…” she let out a shaky exhale, looking for any sign of awareness in his face.

“I want you to know that I love you, Steven.” Despite her best efforts, a few tears finally spilled down her cheeks, “I know sometimes you think I don’t like you the same way you like me because I don’t care about marriage and romance that much, but I do. I love you so much that all those things that seem stupid and gross in romance stories seem beautiful and sweet when I see them through your eyes,” she choked out a laugh and wiped her face, “I hope someday I have the guts to tell you all this stuff when your consciousness is at least on the same planet as me.”

She leaned over his face and opened one of his eyelids, staring at his black pupil fully dilated and still. As she let his eye slide closed again, she pressed her lips gently against his forehead before sitting back up.

“You can’t hear me at all,” she said with a sigh, “That just means I’ll have to survive. Because you deserve to know. I’ll find a way to tell you when we’re back on earth.”

Connie leaned back and sleep overtook her in almost the same moment that she closed her eyes.

She woke what only seemed minutes later, but it must have been several hours judging from the low light outside. The nights were a little cooler on Homeworld, making snuggling more tolerable. She sighed against the softness of Steven’s bosom, and smiled as she felt his arms tighten around her. Then she realized that if he was holding her, that meant he was no longer in her lap. She bolted upright, grabbing him by the shoulders.

“You’re awake! You’re back! Steven, what happened?”

“Hey, Connie,” he said with a tired smile, “I found Bismuth and Dad. I hope they’re gonna be able to come.”

“And? What else? Details, Universe!”

“Details-” he scrunched up his face, “I think I possessed a watermelon person? And I think I died.”

“You-” Connie withdrew her hands from him, “you died?”

“Yeah,” he looked away from her, “I don’t really want to talk about it anymore, if that’s ok with you. It was kind of a weird experience.”

“Of course, that’s ok! I’m just glad you’re here.”

“What about you? Get into any trouble without me?” He offered her an attempt at a playful smile.

“I, um…”

She thought of her gushing monologue to his uninhabited body before and tried to think of how to say it now that his wide eyes were looking back at hers.

“Yeah?” Prompted Steven.

Connie couldn’t bring herself to tell him, because then it would sound like a goodbye, and she was not about to have any goodbyes in that damned, musty tower.

“Oh, you know, I just kind of dozed off,” she said.

“Heh,” his shoulders slumped, “yeah, I guess there isn’t much else to do.”

Conversation had always flowed easily between them. They used to relish every allowance to have a sleepover or stay up late into the night talking and goofing off.

It was a different dynamic in the tower, though. They had a few good conversations, and even a few sparse moments of laughter, but their interaction became more and more minimal as the heat from the next day crept into the dank room. They slept as much as they possibly could, and even when sleep didn’t come, they often pretended to be asleep as the thirst was making them both too groggy and irritable to attempt anymore interaction than necessary.

After they were released from the tower by Blue, Connie figured the most traumatic part of the journey was behind them, but then she watched Steven’s gem get ripped from his body. She carried him, right in front of White, who could crush her dead at any second with her pinky nail.

He almost died right there in her arms, and even after he reunited with his pink side, and after the gems were released from White’s power, there was still an unspoken seriousness between Connie and Steven that hadn’t been there before. It was only perceptible in the most quiet moments.

When they got back to earth, Connie insisted on still being able to sleep with Steven for a month straight. Her parents protested, saying it was “hardly appropriate,” but once Pearl informed them that she could keep watch since she didn’t need sleep, they seemed placated.

When the gems all wanted an account of how they won White over, Steven told a doctored version of the story where he used his shield to block her attack and talk to her, with no inclusion of the gem removal.

Whenever Connie began to grow uncomfortable with him telling that version of the story, he met her eyes with a knowing stare, communicating the gems couldn’t know what White did if there was any hope of peace and trust between them and the Diamonds. He wouldn’t even talk about it with Connie, insisting that it “didn’t matter” how he was affected by it because the outcome was a happy ending with everyone fine.

So, none of the adults in their lives knew the full reason why Connie insisted on sleeping next to Steven. None of them knew why he thrashed in his sleep almost every night until she calmed him. None of them knew why he raised his shield every time he was mildly startled.

Eventually, Steven had to go back to Homeworld, because the Diamonds lauded him as the Savior that had to teach them how to be better in order to not have an oppressive caste system that harvested entire planets.

Connie knew she couldn’t go with him that time, unless she just intended on dropping out of high school. Her parents wouldn’t be ok with that, but neither would she. She didn’t want to abandon her academic ambitions, her family, and her friends at school to go spend years on a planet that regarded her as little more than a “pet” at best, and someone to be discarded or imprisoned at worst.

It was odd, getting used to sleeping alone again when she’d grown so protective over Steven. She found herself waking up in the night clutching for him, as she dreamed of White’s inky talons ripping through her blankets after them.

Connie eventually got some counseling, and the dreams lessened until they hardly happened at all.

Still, she looked forward to the nights when Steven would warp into her room and wordlessly nuzzle against her under the covers, making her especially relieved her parents deemed her mature enough to have a lock on her door. Steven was always so tired the nights he came. Even when he tried to stay up to talk with her, his sentences would trail into incomplete mumbles until he fell asleep minutes later. She wondered how much sleep he was getting on the nights he didn’t come.

She noticed little changes in those quiet nights. More indications of facial hair. Broader shoulders. Longer limbs. A year after their events in the tower, he went from looking like an eight-year-old to a kid nearly his actual age. Now that he was no longer expected to be someone he wasn���t, he was finally growing.

She could sleep better knowing that.

#jamweek #connverse #yeah idk if a short drabble is happening this week guys #because once again i have no chill #and i am losing sleep over writing these cinnamon rolls #lizzywrites

[the-lupine-sojourner]

This might seem out of nowhere, but I was recently listening to For the Dancing and the Dreaming from HTTYD 2, and thought, “This would be great for a KiriKara AU thing.” Soooo, if at any point you’re still taking requests...? ^-^’

Sorry this is so late, galfriend!! I meant to get this done by your birthday, but that didn’t work out, so I guess this is a belated gift or something. Anyway, hope you like it!! I kinda like how it turned out, actually!

I did kinda use some elements from your story for me, which was amazing, and I did twist it just a bit so I’m not copying.

This was kinda what I needed to get back into writing MHA and Takara, so I think tonight I’ll work on the chapter I’ve been off and on working on for a while (feel free to remind/kick me later about it, kay? (: ) 

One last note to everyone: If you haven’t heard For the Dancing and the Dreaming, PLEASE treat yourself right now!! I ADORE that song so much and this request was so perfect for my babies! ;v; *wipes happy tears* Okay okay enough stalling. Let’s get to the story! 

God Bless and Good Day! 

~The Lupine Sojourner

 “Mom?” The question makes me pause my folding. I set the shirt aside and turn my head to the doorway, walking over to my little son, Senshi.

“Yes, son? What is it?” I ask. He fiddles with his fingers, a habit he picked up when he was nervous. I smile warmly at him and sit before him, something that usually helped him calm enough to speak whatever was on his mind. He settles in my lap as usual and plays with my hair.

“Well, how did you and daddy marry?” He asks. I blink, chuckling in slight shock that my five year old son would ask that question.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “You’ve been to a wedding, you know how it goes.” He nods, now moving to pick at my shirt.

“I know, mommy, but...what happened before that? Why did you and daddy marry?” I smile.

“Well...you see, your daddy is a very strong man, and he would go on adventures in the wild with his friends while I helped Grandma and Grandpa in their tavern. He would visit me a lot and we grew to be best friends.”

“And then you married?” Senshi asks, enraptured as always by my stories. I laugh.

“No, son. Now, don’t interrupt me, please. Remember your manners.” He blushes in embarrassment and squirms a bit.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” I reply, nuzzling him to show I wasn’t mad. “Now, your daddy and I never got tired of seeing each other when we could, and then came the day a bunch of bandits decided to raid the town Grandpa and Grandma live in. I lived there then and Eijiro happened to be coming to see me. He saw what was happening, and that made him madder than I’d ever seen him. He transformed into his dragon form and raced to my side just as my magic was almost gone. He protected me, even when all the bandits wanted to hurt him. Eventually, we won and went to a healer. Eijiro got a lot of injuries making sure I was safe, so I stayed with him while he got better.”

The memory was so fresh in my head as I talked, it was like it was happening again.

=#=#=#=#=

The chirp of the birds did nothing to ease my squirming stomach.

Before me lay Eijiro, the brave man I’d barely begun to court, and he looked almost dead on that bed.

He’d risked everything to shield me from the bandits. They’d picked a day when Mom and Dad were out on summons to a special celebration of King Toshinori’s 50th year as king, and Mom as both part of King Toshinori’s security and Dad’s escort.

I guess Eijiro’s group had been on their way to the village, because I heard a rallying cry and suddenly Eijiro stopped trembling with every attack. I heard more voices driving the bandits away and ensuring they were taken care of.

Now, Eijiro was alive and slowly recovering. That was all I could ask for. I stroke his hair gently, humming to myself a song Mom taught me. It was a proposal song, but I loved the simple melody and found myself humming it often, wondering when it would be sung to me for real.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but eventually, I fall asleep.

I wake to the feeling of a strong hand gently stroking my hair. Slowly, I turn my head to look and Eijiro is smiling tiredly at me. I smile back, my heart filled to overflowing with joy that Eijiro was awake. I yawn into my hand, but before I can greet him, Eijiro begins to talk.

“How’d you know I wanted to sing that song to you?” He asks raspily. I blink.

“Huh?”

“There was a moment where I woke up, and I swear I heard an angel singing. Thought I died. I listened closer and knew it was you, and then everything began to hurt, so I knew I was alive. Then I fell back asleep. I wanted to talk to you…” I blush. He’d never mentioned wanting to sing the song to me...no way! He was gonna- -! “about...about marrying...but maybe it’s--mmph!” I cut him off with an elated kiss, careful not to jostle him too much. Pulling away, I kiss all over his face in more happiness than I’d possibly ever felt in my life. “...can I take that as my queue to start singing?” Eijiro asks, slightly out of breath from the kiss and smirking at me. I laugh, cheeks heating in embarrassment.

“Oh...um...sure.” Eijiro nods even as he yawns.

"Well, I'm thinking I wanna do it when I can actually move and dance with you, sorry." I laugh and stroke his hair.

"I think that's best, Eijiro. You...you don't know how scared I was." I whimper. I move to grab his bandaged hands. "Eiji...you almost died." I tear up. "Baka, why'd you do that!?" Eijiro's hand gripped mine.

"I told you, you're my treasure. I'd defend you til I die." I blink back tears, but it doesn't really work.

"But...but I...you can't just die on me, okay?!" I sniffle, wiping my eyes. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you! Promise me you won't pull a stunt like that again, okay?!"

“...Kara, we both know I can’t promise that.” Eijiro points out calmly. “I can, however, promise I will do my utmost to always return to you and stay alive, deal?” I swallow.

“...Deal.”

=#=#=#=#=

“Now, you should be able to get around roughly the same as before, just try to take it easy, alright?” The healer in charge of Eijiro instructs, to which Eijiro nods.

“Of course. Thank you for helping me.”

“Any time, young man. Just don’t waste this second chance, son.” Eijiro smiles.

“I promise you, I won’t.” The healer smiles knowingly. He’d seen the woman who stayed with his charge, and it was amazing how strong their bond already was. Those two were made for each other, he could tell, and he happened to have overheard their conversation about the proposal song and dance. He hoped things would go better for them. The young didn’t deserve such scars and memories. They deserved their happiness.

He watched Eijiro leave with a large grin on his face and chuckled as he readied the cot for his next patient.

Eijiro raced toward the tavern, knowing Takara would be busy, but hoping she’d have a moment to let him propose. The ring in his pocket, a rather simple affair fashioned as a band swirling around emeralds and rubies he’d collected himself, seemed incredibly heavy, as if it were as eager as Eijiro to see it on his love’s finger. Feeling the wounds pulling and twinging a little, he slowed and caught his breath, relieved when the feeling subsided.

Finally arriving, Eijiro nudged his way inside, he saw not too many people inside. Good. His throat was dry no matter how excited he was to finally sing the song that had been itching in his throat for a long time. Fewer people meant less audience, which helped to calm his nerves.

It takes Takara a few minutes to see him, hovering by the door awkwardly. Her father, Hizashi Yamada, spots him, too, and smiles at him before making his way to his daughter and relieving her of her tray so she could talk to Eijiro.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Takara muses with a touch of wryness to her voice. She knew he wouldn’t keep her waiting for long.

“I was just passing by, so here I am.” Eijiro replies. Takara laughs.

“Well, alright then. Have a seat. I’ll bring your usual meal and ale to you in a sec.” He moves his hand to gently grab Takara’s upper arm as she turns to leave. He pulls her in for a kiss. She accepts it readily and grins at him, patting his arm. “I’m so happy to see you recovered, Eiji.” She murmurs softly. He smiles and leans his forehead briefly against hers.

“I’m happy to be out of the healer’s cot.” He replies, then rubs up her upper arm. “Get going before your parents start missing you.” He teases. Takara takes her leave with a final smile and a wave. He gathers his courage and fingers the ring. He knew what she would say and he’d talked to Mr. Yamada and gotten the parents’ blessing to wed their daughter. The only thing holding him back was the small audience, and so with one last deep breath, heart hammering in his ears, he steps into the center, where a small area was usually kept clear for those who felt like dancing.

Loud and clear, he began to whistle the tune, hoping she’d hear and come forward. Sure enough, he saw her stop what she was doing, drop off the few flagons and baskets of small loaves on her tray, set the tray down, and came to meet him in the center area. She started whistling, too, joining him effortlessly. “I’ll sail and swim on savage seas,” he began singing. Takara stayed silent, swaying to the tune as she hummed. He found it remarkably easier to focus on singing now that Takara was before him. As long as he kept focused on the love of his life, he didn’t even see the few patrons that had started to watch the performance. “with ne’er a fear of drowning…and gladly ride the waves of life, if you will marry me…” Takara was grinning as if the thing she wanted most in the world was right before her and she swayed a bit closer as her part neared. “No scorching sun, no freezing cold, will stop me on my journey,” he declared boldly, meaning every word he’d sang thus far. “if you will promise me your heart…” He swallowed, mentally reciting the steps Mr. Yamada had coached him on for the approaching dance. Slowly, his arm began to drift up as Takara did the same.

“And love me for eternity.” Takara’s clear voice rang out in tandem with Eijiro’s as their arms met. She takes a breath, beginning to circle Eijiro, who kept his eyes locked on Takara’s as they moved in sync. “My dearest one, my darling dear, your mighty words astound me, but I’ve no need for mighty words when I feel your arms around me.” The pair circled each other, each smiling like the sun. They chuckled, and Eijiro took the lead again.

“But I would bring you rings of gold, and I would even sing you poetry!” He sang out, adding a bit of a skip to his steps, now that he’d adjusted to the song and dance. Takara joined him, laughing.

“Oh, would yeh?” She replies coyly.

“And I would keep you from all harm, if you would marry me!” Eijiro sang, hoping the sincerity of his words wasn’t lost on his love. It wasn’t. Takara pretended to turn a tiny bit snobby as she danced alongside Eijiro.

“I have no use for rings of gold, I care not for your poetry!” She declares, swirling at Eijiro’s direction, easily fitting under his arm and leaning into his chest as if she was made to fit there. She felt safe as Eijiro’s strong arms circled her and they swayed in the embrace before she twirled out again. “I only want your hand to hold, I only want you near me!” Though the pair sang the line together, it was Takara’s turn to hope her sincerity was made clear to Eijiro. He understood perfectly. “To love and kiss, to sweetly hold, for the dancing and the dreaming!” They sang out together. “Through all life’s sorrows and delights, I’ll keep your love inside me! I’ll swim and sail on savage seas with ne’er a fear of drowning, and gladly sail the waves of life if you will marry me!” Eijiro had gotten a little carried away, swinging Takara up in his arms, but she didn’t mind; she braced against his shoulders and kept singing as she was swung around a few times before being gently put back on the ground, elated that this was finally happening and she’d truly get to marry this boy, this love of hers. Eijiro then drew her in for a kiss, keeping a hold on her left hand as he did. When they broke apart, he slipped the ring onto her finger as Takara gasps.

“Oh, Eijiro! This- -how did you- -I…”

“Turns out, we saved the jeweler when we stopped the bandits, so...he made this for me as a thank you. I couldn’t talk him out of it.” Takara laughs. Eijiro, despite being half-dragon, hardly ever accepted monetary rewards for his good deeds, preferring to let the satisfaction be his reward. She kisses him again.

“It’s perfect.” She murmurs, cupping his face and kissing his forehead as the audience began to clap and cheer, a few whistles thrown in as well. Takara and Eijiro blush, joining hands and facing the crowd.

Shota and Hizashi came forward and hugged the two, Eijiro and Hizashi shaking hands and Hizashi clapped Eijiro on the back heartily to welcome him into the family and assure him that his blessing still stood. Eijiro’s arm didn’t leave Takara’s wasit after that as the patrons came to congratulate the pair. By the time it was all done, Takara reluctantly eyed her tray. Eijiro groans, but then gets an idea. He notices Hizashi and walks over.

“Can I help Takara?” He asks. Hizashi nods, smiling. Normally, he figured boys would ask to borrow Takara for a few quiet moments outside, but this young man was offering to ensure that Takara’s duties and responsibilities were completed before they departed. He nods.

“Of course. There should be an extra apron in the back. Grab it and get to work, lad!” He replies. Eijiro grins and nods, offering a salute before returning. He follows Takara when she returns to the back and ties the apron on, grinning at her.

“I love you, Takara Yamada.” He murmurs, hugging her. She hugs him back.

“I love you, too, Eijiro.” She replies. She gives him a quick kiss then draws away. “Now, let’s get these guests taken care of, okay?” He grins, letting her tug him toward the barrels of ale, wine, and mead.

“Lead the way, milady!”

#fanfiction #mha #bnha #eijiro kirishima #oc #original character #original female character #eijiro kirishima x oc #my hero academia #bnha oc #eijiro kirishima/takara yamada #takara yamada #kirishima eijirou #takara yamada (oc) #boku no hero academia #eijiro kirishima/oc #bnha kirishima #kirikara #lupine answers #shota aizawa #eijiro kirishima x takara yamada #fantasy au #present mic #hizashi yamada