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#some of the guest lecturers were interesting enough to listen to but mostly it was my pretentious ass program director and his friends
masterwords · 2 years
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Hello, can I please have 10 from the meaningful prompts with Hotch and Morgan? How you manage to find the time to do all these great prompt fics is amazing 😅
The prompt: Whispering jokes/loving words in a lecture/school/church/a meeting. Trying not to laugh/flirt back in fear of disturbing everyone else who's trying to pay attention.
Prompts don't always call to me, but when I'm doing these big chapter stories I get all antsy and want to leave those worlds/need distractions and then I just devour prompts. I don't know why but I'm glad you guys indulge me. Thank you! <3
(1.9k words / On AO3 if you prefer / mostly deaf Hotch and Morgan and JJ at a lecture not exactly behaving themselves)
**
Hotch stretches his legs, one and then the other, straight in front of him. His left knee pops loudly, flooding him with a strange and instant relief in the once aching joint. He's been sitting in this chair for the better part of the day, give or take a break that wasn't much of a break because everyone wanted to talk to him. He's really starting to feel it creeping in his lower back.
These chairs needed replacing at least two decades ago (that's being generous), when the BAU was still the BSU and they were nicely situated in the far reaches of the basement, when no one gave a shit about them. These chairs needed replacing when people still used finger quotes to denote anything the BAU did. Oh, you created a “profile” huh? Fascinating. Now it's the hot button topic at the Bureau, and his team is expected to not only guest lecture but also sit through an absurd number of them so they can be useful to everyone everywhere, that's the idea anyway. He has other suspicions, but he keeps those to himself.
Well today, it's Andy Swann up there talking about the link between social media and trafficking, and he really does find it interesting...hell, he even helped her prepare some of it. Even knowing what she was going to talk about he took pages of notes during his first time through. He managed to find a few things of note the second time too things he'd missed in the first session. Aaron Hotchner would never be considered anything but an attentive student under most circumstances, but now he's on his third go around on this carousel, the last of the day, and he's more or less just supervising. Making sure everyone who was supposed to attend did, which he considers to be micromanaging and a task he loathes. He's a highly paid chaperon, and he's also completely done. His head is throbbing, and his back is killing him, not to mention that he hasn't had time to eat anything since he ate the last two bites of Jack's frosted mini wheats when the kid said he was too full to finish, and he has to pee because the four styrofoam cups of coffee he's sucked down have finally gone through him.
He reaches up and turns off his hearing aids. It's instant relief of the one complaint he has that he can control. Just like his knee popping only maybe better. The pressure in his head almost vanishes along with the sound.
He's been wearing hearing aids for nearly a year now. Sometimes only an hour or two, sometimes the whole day, it really just depends on what he's got to do. How attentive he has to be to what's going on around him. His hearing has been bad his entire life, or close enough anyway. He doesn't remember a time when he didn't struggle and his mother would tell you that he passed all of the hearing tests as a baby so she's not sure what happened. He could tell you, but he doesn't tell her because she wouldn't listen anyway. His dad's penchant for knocking him around on those nights when the whiskey went down easy like mountain spring water, bring those up to her and she'll give you her best I don't know what you're talking about smile and that's the end of her willingness to entertain the topic. In any case, he always figured it didn't really matter when it started because it was a bomb placed under his SUV in New York that did him in, and that made the topic easier for her to swallow too.
When his doctor looked him right in the eye and told him that his hearing wasn't likely to improve after his continued exposure to sudden loud noises, he was able to take it with a grain of salt.
“Will it get worse?” was all he could think to ask, and her solemn features as she considered her words carefully told him more than anything she actually said.
“The hearing loss is irreversible, Agent Hotchner, but if we're careful, we can mitigate further damage. The right ear is worse than the left. Wearing hearing devices will help.”
He knew everyone expected him to be upset, to take it the way he took everything else. Derek had watched him rip an IV out of his hand and sign himself out AMA while his ears were still bleeding after that bomb...that he was now so willing to accept this was nothing short of a miracle. But they don't know that he's been reading lips since middle school with an intensity that gave people pause. Practicing, maybe, but some part of him knew that it was an eventuality and Hotch never liked to be blindsided. He likes to be ahead of things.
By high school he was better at reading lips than he was at making or maintaining eye contact. Learning ASL from one of the school librarians had been a hobby for a while, something he thought he might need but maybe not...better to be prepared. Plus she was nice, and if he was there then he didn't have to be at home. She knew his concerns, and she argued that if he knew it then he could teach other people when the time came. And if it never did? Well, being fluent in another language is never a bad thing.
He's been working with Jack now for a few months, the kid is picking it up quickly. Jessica (for reasons she's purposely evasive about) already speaks ASL very well, she's helping with Jack. And Derek says he wants to do it by himself. (Except it's he and Garcia and a computer, squirreled away in his office late at night with a bowl of popcorn and sodas and their talking hands.) He tries not to think too hard about that one, it'll make him cry.
He knows the rest of them are learning, too. JJ has been signing with Henry since he was a baby, it was a natural thing for her to continue. But, again, the whole crying thing...he doesn't ask. They're all adapting, and anyway, he has his hearing aids, so they don't need to worry too much. It's only when they surprise him in the office, when he's turned them off or taken them out for some peace because the way they amplify the sound makes his head hurt if he wears them too long.
So, really, the fact that he's uncomfortable and a little distracted is easy to understand. That he's turned his hearing devices off in the middle of a lecture is probably considered rude, but he'll apologize to Andy later, she'll understand. She signed as the witness at his wedding to Haley, their friendship is a long and winding road. It's not likely that she'll hold it against him. She'll probably ask him why he didn't do it sooner.
He's hovering in this serene, nearly silent world when JJ uses her pen to tap him on the knee and gives him a knowing glance. He raises one eyebrow, and his eyes flick down to her hands. She signs quickly to him that Derek is trying to get his attention from the end of the row. They're exactly thirteen seats apart, might as well be separate planets. Derek has been working with a new group of recruits at the Academy all week, this is the first time they've seen each other in at least that long. He nods and silently thanks her before turning his eyes to Derek. He can barely mask his relief, or whatever that huge feeling in his chest is that he feels just knowing Derek is around.
But then Derek lowers his hands just out of sight of anyone who might be casually watching and signs something to Hotch. Something lewd (why not just hello?) and Hotch turns away quickly, forces his attention back to Andy on the stage. He pretends to try and read her lips and Derek knows he got to him. He's smiling and he's definitely blushing. He knows that it's a problem that Derek and Penelope are learning together, because they're not just learning the basics, they're not just becoming conversational, they're figuring out how to flirt. They're learning the inappropriate things that they will both eventually teach Jack. Hotch's stomach twists and he nervously reaches up to adjust the lay of his tie.
Twice.
Just to keep his hands busy, because he wants to sign something back at Derek, but he won't. He won't because someone would surely see him.
JJ taps him again. She looks exasperated, her eyes are wide and she's missing the lecture, but she flicks her pen in Derek's direction and Hotch watches as he flirts a little more appropriately this time. At least Hotch thinks he's flirting, he's still pretty rusty and he makes the sign for hot while waggling his eyebrows. It's not exactly correct, but Hotch understands what he means, and he can feel a warm prickly flush spreading like wildfire through dry underbrush beneath his collar.
He adjusts the lay of his tie again. As if it's moved.
When JJ taps him a third time, he wants to tell her to stop. If they just don't give Derek attention, he'll turn his attention to Andy and be done with it, they're just fueling his fire by giving him an audence. The thing is, he kind of doesn't want it to stop though. He looks up and Derek is asking him if he wants to get a drink later. His sign for hot had been so clunky, but this is crystal clear. He's been practicing.
Hotch can't help what he does next, he really can't. He looks at Andy at the front of the room, she's using her pointer and showing some statistic on the power point. Quickly he turns back to Derek and smiles, dragging his forefinger slowly from his chin down to his collar bone with a wink. I'm thirsty, he says, his finger pointing to his own chest.
This makes Derek laugh out loud, the absolute asshole.
Hotch has been keeping a straight face the whole time but Derek can't handle one cheeky reply? Hotch turns toward Andy and frowns when he notices her stop, glance at him first, and then at Derek. He turns his hearing aid back on, just the left one, because he's good at reading lips but he might need to be on higher alert for this one.
“Agent Morgan?” Andy's voice is cool and calm, but she's looking directly at Derek with those piercing eyes that make her so damn scary. Hotch's veins run with ice; Derek doesn't seem the least bit bothered. Hotch can't look at Derek any longer, so he turns his attention to his paper, mortified. “Would you care to share with everyone what's so funny?”
Derek clears his throat and smiles with that infuriating calm he has because he's so damn self-confident that things just don't rattle him. Even when they absolutely should. (And for a long time, Hotch thought it was just an act, was sure he could get under his skin but now he's glad for it. He leans on it, leans into it.)
“Nothing, ma'am. I apologize. I was just asking Agent Hotchner if he wanted to get coffee after the lecture.”
She shoots Hotch a dangerous glare, one that says he owes her big time for not making him repeat exactly what his response has been because she saw everything. Everything, her eyes say. And she won't be letting him forget it any time soon.
“You'll buy me a coffee too, for interrupting my lecture, Agent Morgan.”
“Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry again.”
“And a muffin. Apple cinnamon.”
“Whatever you want, Agent Swann.”
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eirikaanemo · 3 years
Text
Can You Keep A Secret?
Warnings: imprisonment, mentions of starvation and sickness
Note: I haven't actually played Dvalin's quest but I tried to keep it as close to canon as possible. Feel free to leave a comment or message me if you see something wrong.
Venti x GN!Reader
1.9k Words
Your soulmate is secretly Barbatos... now what?
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Everyone has a soulmate. And everyone is born knowing your soulmate's biggest secret. For most people it’s really unhelpful, but for some people it helps them find their soulmate. You’re in the latter group, because yours gives you a name.
You've known your whole life that your soulmate is secretly Barbatos. It's… interesting, to say the least. Of course you'd never dare to tell anyone. Thankfully, asking someone what their soulmate’s secret is isn’t very common. It’s considered to be very rude, so no one asks you what your secret is. They'd think you're crazy!
Barbatos hasn't been around for centuries and you're a mortal. This is the sort of thing you would read about in trashy romance novels! But even though it’s crazy and kind of overwhelming, you know it's true. You don't know if he'd ever accept you or want to be with you, in fact, you’re pretty sure he won’t, but you want to try.
Once that’s settled, you just have to find him. If he's anywhere, it's probably the city of Mondstadt. That’s where he seems to have shown up the most in the past, after all. So you move to Mondstadt. It’s a nice place and the people are friendly. Finding a job with the Knights of Favonius was fairly easy and it paid pretty well.
Unfortunately, the 'Storm-terror' problem starts shortly after you move. He throws the whole city into chaos the first time, and then proceeds to keep doing it regularly. The fear is all encompassing, but that's fine, you try to convince yourself. It will all be worth it when you find him. ‘If you find him’, your traitorous mind whispers.
It's been months, a year even, and you're starting to lose hope. How were you expecting to find Barbatos anyway? Shout from the rooftops for him to reveal himself and whisk you away? He hasn't been around for a long time and you knew that. And to be honest, at this point you've given up.
Going home is the logical thing to do, it’s where your family is after all. But you stay because you made yourself a home here. You have friends: Jean, Lisa, and Kaeya. You have come to love the city: music, freedom, and camaraderie. Well, you love the city except for the 'Storm-terror' attacks. Those aren't very lovable.
What concerns you the most though is that 'Storm-terror' is a dragon. And dragons trend to be important (like, archon important). But no one seems to remember this one. So you research. You visit the cathedral and speak with some nuns. You dedicate some time to listening to bard’s tales, asking them if they know any songs about dragons. One does, and it's surprisingly informational. You spend time at the library, pouring through book after book. And after all this investigation, you've come to the conclusion that 'Storm-terror' is actually Dvalin of the Four Winds. Not that anyone actually believes you
It didn't stop you from telling people your theory though, and being more respectful in how you refer to him, despite all the damage he's caused. Eventually they do start considering it and the city starts catching on. If you keep doing this, you may be able to change the city's perspective of and reaction to Dvalin.
The abyss mage catches on to this, and he just can't let that happen. It could compromise the whole plan. So one day he has Dvalin abduct you and locks you up. And true to your luck, this happens out of the blue while you’re taking a walk that you’d finally convinced Jean to go on with you. Which, of course, reverses all your progress and makes the situation even worse than it was before. Incidentally, this also does the exact opposite of what you’d been trying to do by stressing out poor Jean more.
The abyss mage doesn’t care about anything other than making sure you’re not able to go back to Mondstadt. The mage does not care about human necessities. Who cares if you die? Not him. He hates humans. It's kind of part of his job description.
Your prison is where Dvalin retreats to when not attacking. And the mage has to go report to someone else sometimes, giving you opportunities to speak with Dvalin. He never responds to you, but you can tell he eventually starts listening. You start by rambling about various subjects; then talking about how you know he's Dvalin, and that you're sorry he was being treated like he was, once you know he is listening. Because while you don’t know the whole situation, you know that he feels hurt by how humans have treated him.
After several days of talking to him, he slowly starts warming up to you. It’s a strange sort of bond that grows stronger as time goes on. He starts responding and the two of you actually have conversations instead of just you talking. Eventually you even mention how you know your soulmate is actually Barbatos and that you've kind of given up finding him.
He gives a thoughtful hum, lets you vent out your feelings, tries to think of an appropriate response, then allows you to drop the subject once you’ve worn yourself out emotionally. It’s becoming obvious that your health, physical, mental, and emotional, is degrading faster as time goes on.
One day Dvalin and the mage both disappear for longer than usual. After the mage makes sure you won’t be able to escape, of course. It’s not like you would’ve been able to leave anyway. At that point you’re not able to do much at all.
Little did you know that only Dvalin would be returning. They ended up facing the traveler and their companions in battle, and Dvalin was freed from the mage’s influence. The first thing Dvalin does is take them to help "the one decent human, that he actually cares about". You're in bad shape at this point, starving, sick, and weak. But you’re aware enough to hear Jean call your name and feel someone gather you in their arms before blacking out.
When you wake up you're at the cathedral and are feeling much better. Certainly you are not fully recovered, that will take weeks. That one bard who was able to play you a song about Dvalin is always there. You vaguely remember him being there when you were found. He doesn’t really interact with you much, he’s just kind of there, but he does play peaceful music that helps you fall asleep when you’re struggling to rest.
Then the day comes for you to go home. They’ve done all they can for you and you’re past the worst of it. But you’re well enough to be out and about. “Now you take care of yourself,” Barbara lectures you. “Don’t push yourself, get plenty of rest, drink lots of water, and eat three square meals a day, got it?”
“Got it,” you confirm. “Thank you for taking care of me, I really appreciate your help.” She smiles, wishes you well, and returns to the cathedral. You take a moment to breathe and just appreciate being back home, free of your prison and the small cathedral room they’d kept you in while treating you.
Taking a deep breathe you start on your way home. “Hey!” You hear someone exclaim behind you. “Could you hold on a second?” Turning around, you see the bard quickly excusing himself from a street performance before running to catch up to you. Once he’s caught up, he gives you a smile.
“Hi! I’m Venti the bard! Would you be willing to speak with me about something? It’s kind of private so we would need to go to windrise or something, but you’ll want to hear this, I promise.” He says. “Alright,” you agree, “but I can’t make it all the way to windrise. Would my home do? I live alone so we’ll have privacy.” He nods, “that’ll work great!”
The walk home is quiet but comfortable. The bard’s content to hum a tune as he follows you through the streets. Soon you’re home, unlocking the door to let you and your guest in. You lead him over to the couch where you both sit down. “So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”
“Well, I was talking with Dvalin a day or so after we freed both of you and he said you mentioned you came to Mondstadt searching for your soulmate. And that you said your soulmate’s biggest secret, the one that you know, is that they’re Barbatos,” he explains. You feel a pang of betrayal at Dvalin’s actions and some guilt for sharing your soulmate’s secret in the first place.
It probably showed on your face because he quickly spoke up again. “He didn’t just tell me for no reason though. You see, I am Barbatos. I’m your soulmate.” Your head, which had been drooping with the weight of your emotions suddenly shot up as you fumbled for a response.
Apparently that showed too because he continued, “And I’m sorry I made it so hard for you to find me. I’m sorry I almost made you give up on me. Most of my waking time is spent incognito so I can watch over everyone while not being put in a position of authority. I didn’t anticipate meeting you ”
There’s a moment or two of silence as you gather your thoughts. “It’s okay,” you assure him. “I understand why you did what you did and I’ll never hold it against you. How were you supposed to know I was even born yet, not to mention that I’ve been in the area searching for you.”
You take another moment or two to gather your wits. “I will also understand if you don’t want to do anything about this,” you state. “I don’t want you to feel forced into having a relationship with me if you don’t want to. The last thing I’d want to do is be responsible for making you miserable. And that’s not to mention how you’re an archon and I’m just a mortal.”
Your talking speeds up as you start rambling, losing control of the conversation as you feel more and more nervous. Once you realize you’re rambling you shut your mouth with a click. “Sorry about that,” you mutter. “I do that sometimes when I’m nervous.”
When you chance a glance at him, he honestly looks a little offended but mostly just really sad. “Is- is that really what you think I think about this?” He asks softly. “Because it’s not. I absolutely want this. I absolutely want you. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for millenia and I wouldn’t give this up for the world.”
He reaches over and slowly, hesitantly, so as to give you time to escape if you want, gathers you into his arms. You realize that he’s the one who picked you up to bring you home. Your ear rests against his chest as lean against him, and his heart skips a beat as you gently grab one of his hands and kiss it. “I’m glad,” you breathe. “I’m glad too,” he voices softly.
You yawn, feeling the exhaustion from your journey home and the rest of the day hit you. He pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “Sleep well, my cecilia, I’ll be here when the sun comes up and when you wake up.” You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.
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occasionalsnippets · 3 years
Text
Escapism AU (Y/n) & Passione
This is mostly about mc’s interactions with the gang including a bit of La Squadra and Unita Speciale. I’ll probably add more as I think.
Bucciarati’s Gang 
Mc crashes at their house from time to time even though she has her own apartment
This either because she wants to sleep over for fun
Or because she’s finished a mission and their house is closer
Sometimes she shows up at 2 AM and just passes out on their couch
It happens more often than it should
Bruno eventually gives her a copy of the key
She steals food from the fridge too but makes up for it by buying groceries
They leave a toothbrush and cup for her in one of the bathrooms since she comes over so much
Before everyone was recuited, there were extra bedrooms in the house that weren’t being used
They left a guest room for mc but she doesn’t use it all the time, opting to pass out on the couch first
Either Bruno or Abbacchio usually brings her to her room though Abbacchio would never admit to it
Mista draws on her face with marker sometimes but leaves her on the couch most of the time. He can’t ruin her cute face all the time
Narancia cuddles with her on the couch or join Mista in doodling
Fugo leaves her on the couch but gets a blanket and readjusts her position if it’s uncomfortable
However, after Mista got recruited, mc gave up her room so Mista didn’t have to room with anyone
Now, she just sleeps on the couch or whoever’s okay with her borrowing their bed
She has tried several times to get them to wear normal clothes outside (they dressed perfectly normally before joining the mafia!) and only about half those times did it actually work
Mc is strong enough carry everyone in the group bridal style
The only ones who gets particularly mouthy when she does is Abbacchio and Mista but only because Mista wants to carry her too
She joins Fugo, Narancia and Mista in doing stupid things but it’s fun
She knows the torture dance
Mc isn’t technically a part of their team but they consider her to be because of how often she stays over and tags along for missions
She doesn’t expect anyone to really like her the way they do despite how obvious their feelings are
Part of it is because she isn’t supposed to be in this universe in the first place, that she’s an outsider of sorts. She’s here to make sure they don’t die
The other part of it is the guilt of leaving them to die in the first timeline. She feels like she doesn’t deserve how highly they think of her because of how readily she was to let fate run it’s course the first time around, even if they don’t remember it
She’s sooner die then let any of them do the same
Giorno
Mc meets Giorno before he’s recruited into the gang since she does go to the same school as him even though she doesn’t really show up to classes that often
She’s about 2 years older than Giorno
They became friends prior to his hair turning blond and she almost didn’t recognize him but his eyes are rather distinctive
When it did turn blond, mc got a vaguely panicked call in the morning from him saying his hair turned blond for some reason
She’s the first person to braid his hair with the needlessly extra loop at the end after it turned blond
She wasn’t sure how the donuts worked but the next time she saw him he had the signature donut hair so she guessed he figured out how to do it
It becomes routine for her to braid Giorno’s hair when she notices it’s undone
She gave him a crash course on stands when he found out she had one
They spend a lot of time in libraries
Mc insists on paying for food when they get lunch together though Giorno always refuses
I feel like Giorno lowkey craves intimacy?
Mc calls him “GioGio” sometimes
Trish
Hmmmmm, gay
I really like Trish hence why she’s included in the harem
Out of everyone in the gang guarding her, she’s the closest with mc since they’re both girls which is also why Bruno assigns mc to her the most often
Convenient for Trish since it means more time to flirt
Unfortunately, mc does fall under the “are we just being nice to each other or are we flirting” when Trish is just about ready to ask for her hand in marriage
She’s flirting, no doubt
Trish lets mc rest her head on her thighs which mc can confirm is very comfortable
Trish is one of the two people she trusts to do her make up, the other one being Abbacchio
You know that picture where there’s one girl sitting on the other girl doing her makeup
That’s basically Trish and mc
Post-Vento Aureo, they stay in contact and remain good friends as Trish pursues a career as a singer
Narancia
Mc joined Fugo on that walk where they found Narancia in the alleyway so she’s partially responsible for him joining the mafia
They bring him to Libecco where Bruno is and he gets food before going to the hospital to get his eye treated like in canon
She goes shopping with him after he’s out of the hospital
They get normal clothes but the next she sees him, he’s wearing his canon outfit and she wonders why she even bothered with his fashion sense in the first place
She’s the one who buys him his bandana that he wears in his canon outfit
They’re pretty cute together actually
She calls him “Nara” 
While she isn’t available all the time to help Fugo tutor him, when she is around, she tries her best to help
They listen to music together and mc ends up reccomending a lot though some songs haven’t come out yet so she’s only able to play them on her phone
“If I run and jump at (Y/n), she’ll definately catch me!” “Wait, I’m holding a mug-” *Drops the mug and catches Narancia*
Hugs with Narancia often end with his face buried in the crook of her neck
Fugo
Probably the one mc goes with on missions the most
Part of it is because they’re the closest in age prior to everyone else joining, another part is due to mc’s nullifying ability effectively making her immune to Purple Haze’s virus
Mc be like “if I got infected with purple haze’s virus, I would simply become immune. rip to everyone else but I’m different.”
Still, Fugo is still very cautious when it comes to pulling out Purple Haze
Fugo buys her lavender hand lotion once and she decided she liked it so she continued to use it
He sorta associates lavender with mc
Mc buys him strawberry earrings. Sometimes she spontaneously buys stuff that reminds her of him
Fugo isn’t particularily fond of contact (backstory trauma) so mc tries to keep it to a minimum unless he gives an okay
Probably a few missions together where mc saves him, they’re walking down a street together and he just slips his hand into hers
Asadlskjh, I want them to hold hands
When she’s doing school assignments over at the Bucci house, Fugo helps her look over and proofread them despite the fact she has access to the internet through her phone and can search stuff literally from the future (not that he knows). She appreciates the input
I think that after Fugo leaves the group during Vento Aureo, I would like to bring him back somehow before the end of Vento Aureo
Abbacchio
He didn’t like mc at first, no surprises here, but after they went on a few missions together where she saved his life, he begrudgingly opened up
She reminds him of his dead partner due to how reckless she is in saving people
She an idiot but she’s his idiot
He’s likely one of the most worried when she gets hurt since he doesn’t want to lose another person who died protecting him
Abbacchio does come off as very tsundere seeing how prickly he is to everyone except Bruno but everyone except for mc notices that he isn’t that prickly to her either
Mc doesn’t expect him to like her to any degree so whenever anyone points out that he’s nicer to her, she’s like “what?”
They have late night talks a lot
Abbacchio stays up late drinking and mc doesn’t sleep consistently enough
Sometimes they go up to the roof of the house to talk
She has fallen alseep on him multiple times. His tiddies make great pillows. 
Generally, she’s got her head resting on his tiddies, one arm hanging over his body, the other spawled out somewhere. He keeps one arm around her head and the other around her waist
Bruno
Mc with Bruno is oddly domestic?
she helps around the house, buying groceries, helping out in the kitchen and cleaning from time to time
Bruno appreciates it a lot
If Abbacchio and mc have late night talks, Bruno and her have early morning talks when everyone else is asleep and the sun is just barely rising
Bruno keeps telling her it isn’t healthy to sleep only 3 hours so he convinces her to fall asleep for a few more hours
He spoils her a lot and brings her to cafes
Bruno is one of the last people she would expect to like her more than a friend due to the “bruno’s a mom” memes and he’s nice to everyone (almost everyone, excluding ememies), there’s no way he would like her more
Sure, he kisses the crown of her head and the back of her hand from time to time and they cook together
But they’re just good friends, right?
He frequently lectures her on being more careful and not being so reckless
Mista
They discuss weird stuff a lot
The combination of mc’s general knowledge of random things due to the internet and Mista’s bad timing when bringing up topics leads to interesting conversations
Like, your tongue never sits comfortably in your mouth, your skeleton is wet, are you inside your skeleton or is your skeleton inside you?
Mc is always in a constant state of worry when he’s on a mission because his bullets always end up in his own body something
The only reason he isn’t dead yet is because his dumb*ss aura surrounds him
Mc qualifies as a cute girl 11/10
He flirts with her casually and the pistols tell her his thought even when he doesn’t want them to but she never seems to notice
“You’ve been flirting with me?” “Have been for the last year, thanks for noticing.”
Mc gets Mista a gun holster after the events of Vento Aureo because he really shouldn’t be tucking his gun in his pants like that
If someone was really angry, they could lean over and shoot his d*ck off
La Squadra
I sorta debated whether la squadra should be a part of the harem or not but I think mostly no
That’s because I don’t really have an age range for them but Risotto’s like 28 and big age gaps are creepy. So, I guess for some of the la squadra members, it’s up to interpretation whether it’s romantic or platonic. I’m inclined towards platonic though
I’m not sure if I want to save Sorbet and Gelato yet
Mc, of course, goes along for missions as she’s ordered to
La squadra is so broke. Why doesn’t Diavolo pay them more? They literally kill people for their job
Mc doesn’t crash at their house very often but she stops by to hang out and drop off food
She buys them groceries when she notices their fridge is super empty. She doesn’t need them to pay her back (her paycheck is suprisingly big), but they should stop eating takeout all the time
She usually calls Risotto to ask if there’s anything specific they want
She’s rather fond of Pesci. They go fishing together when they have time
Illuso and mc are gossip buddies
Melone gets kink shamed during missions
Ghiaccio and mc have gone ice skating together before
I don’t really have anything else for the others... I’ll think about it
When Vento Aureo begins, mc is trying to save them though she isn’t directly working with them
La Unita Speciale
These are pretty random
Tizano and Squalo are gay, mc was there when they proposed to each other
Mc gets ordered to buy food when they have meetings though it’s pretty rare
When she does show up to drop off food, it’s a constant feeling of “let me leave quicker please” because Cioccolata is freaky
She thinks she runs into Doppio way too often when she’s doing missions
The only good thing about it is that Doppio is pretty nice when Diavolo isn’t kicking about. On one hand, Doppio=nice, on the other Doppio=Diavolo
Mc feeds Secco sugar cubes when Cioccolata isn’t looking
She would not trust Cioccolata to patch up any of her wounds, he’s likely to dissect her
Mc gets missions through calls and emails but sometimes Doppio’s around to tell her what they are 
133 notes · View notes
collecting-stories · 3 years
Text
Forevermore - c. 06 - JJ Maybank
Summary: With your parents away, JJ spends some quality time at your house.
A/N: Sorry there was a longer gap between these chapters.
You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist
✞ I never really ever, ever felt so at home before ✞
Your parents had a long list of rules that dictated every waking moment of your house. Rules that told you what to wear, what to eat, what to read, what to watch, who to spend time with. But one rule that had never even been added to the list was “no boys in the house”. It had never been necessary before, no boys at all was the general and, always upheld, rule for you and your sisters. Telling you not to allow them in the house didn’t even seem like a possibility to your parents and probably never would’ve seemed like a possibility to you if you hadn’t met JJ.  
Timothy left on the weekend, promising to be back for your birthday in a month,  and your parents left the day after, headed to South Carolina for a couples’ church retreat that your father was guest lecturing at. You had convinced your father, before you had even met JJ, that you could stay alone for the short week that they would be gone. Though technically, now, you weren’t alone.  
“Okay, we’re starting with the basics.” JJ announced, carrying a bowl of popcorn and two sodas into the living room, setting them down on the coffee table. You were sitting on the couch, blanket wrapped around your body, a baggy t-shirt serving as clothing because you didn’t want to wear a dress but didn’t have any pajama pants or shorts to wear.  
“What qualifies as ‘the basics’?” you asked, opening your blanket enough that JJ could get underneath with you, pulling your legs over his lap. He’d borrowed Pope’s laptop to watch movies with you, since your parents didn’t own any sort of technology, television included. Your parents had phones and there was a landline but that was about as far as it went.  
“Disney movies, even I’ve seen disney movies.” JJ replied, though admittedly it had been later in his childhood that he’d seen them. “We’ll start with my personal favorite...actually, not a disney movie just an animated movie, whatever...it’s called Balto.”
“Is that a dog?” You stared at the screen as JJ clicked on the icon for the movie.
“Yeah, it’s a movie about a sled dog.”  
“A sled dog?” You laughed, brushing his hair back so that you could kiss him before the movie started and he shushed you to listen. Your hand went to the back of his head, your eyes on the TV as you ran your fingers through the hair at the nap of his neck, absentmindedly leaning into him more.  
JJ had brought a whole backpack to your house, stuffed with clothes for the long weekend that both of you fully intended for him to spend at your house. Ever since you had mentioned the trip to JJ, and the possibility of him staying, you had been thinking of the implications of that. What expectations did he have for the week? You thought about asking him directly, or even asking Kiara or Pope, surely they would be able to tell you something about the girls that JJ dated before you.  
It wasn’t like you had any illusions about them. You weren’t jealous or insecure about any of his past girlfriends, or hook-ups. John B had indicated that JJ had never really done the ‘dating thing’ before you, which had you wondering what exactly he might expect out of you before you realized that he really didn’t expect anything. But whether he’d dated anyone seriously in the past or not, and whether that should have intimidated you or not, you were fairly neutral about it. JJ was your boyfriend and he loved you, he’d said so, and you weren’t worried about anyone else.  
“You know I’ve never watched a cartoon before?” You chanced mentioning, whispering the words to him as the dog on screen talked. There were a lot of things you hadn’t done before meeting JJ.  
Some things you weren’t interested in. The smoking didn’t bother you but you had no desire to try it, you’d given beer one go at a party that JJ snuck you out to but it tasted disgusting and you had nearly spit it back out. You’d tried soda and coffee and fast food and a slurpee from the 7-11 near the pawn shop. You wore jeans and a dress that was far more revealing that you’d ever considered a dress could be, and a bathing suit. You had let Kiara do your makeup and you liked it but weren’t terribly interested in doing it again. There were physical things too, just sitting next to JJ was something you had never done before, let alone kissing him.  
You thought about sex but hadn’t mentioned it to JJ, unsure if you should. The only sex talk you’d ever gotten from your mom had been when she told you that premarital sex was the ultimate sin and women who engaged in it ended up with unwanted babies. The basic understanding you’d come away with was that sex was intended simply to produce children for your family and to keep your husband happy and that he would, inevitably, guide you through it. You had trouble imagining Timothy guiding you through anything even remotely intimate.  
It wasn’t that you didn’t feel comfortable bringing up the subject to JJ it was just that you weren’t sure you were supposed to. You’d thought about asking Kiara but then felt kind of embarrassed about it, would she understand or think it was lame that you were asking about sex with her best friend. You weren’t even sure you were ready to have sex with him, whatever ready meant.  
“You okay?” JJ asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “you kinda zoned out.” He’d answered you about the cartoon thing but when you said nothing else he’d looked over, only to find you staring at the TV almost trance like.  
“Just thinking.” You replied. He had put the movie on cause it was his favorite and you wanted to watch it with him but you couldn’t help your mind from going haywire the longer you sat there.  
“Anything you wanna share with the class?” JJ asked, tucking the blanket around you more when you leaned into him.  
“I don’t know,” you really weren’t sure. You assumed, figured, he must know that you’d never had sex. It had to have crossed his mind at least once. Was he waiting for you to mention it to him? Was he just waiting to mention it or was he uninterested?  
JJ nodded slowly, tilting his head down to press a kiss against your collar where the large shirt had slipped to one side. You look at the TV screen, absentmindedly worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. JJ’s hand on your thigh returned some sense of gravity to you, drawing your attention away from Balto’s quest and back toward your boyfriend who was watching you with the sweetest blue eyes you’d ever seen.  
“What do you think about us having sex?” You asked suddenly, the overwhelming urge to confront the elephant in your head making you blurt out the first thing that came to mind.  
To his benefit, JJ looked somewhat startled by the question. It wasn’t one anyone had ever asked him before. He’d dated before and definitely had sex before, but he’d never had an actual conversation about it, not like that. “I uh, did you want to?” JJ asked, clearing his throat a little uncomfortably. He wasn’t completely sure what to say. He had definitely thought about having sex with you, he spent a lot of time thinking about you.  
“I don’t know...” you repeated, shrugging. “My mom told me having sex before marriage was evil. But she says that about kissing too.” You replied, pressing a kiss to his lips as an example.  
“I don’t know about evil,” he laughed, “John B’s a little more sentimental than me when it comes to sex but...I mean, you shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to.”
“I’m not really sure if I want to or not, I don’t have any experience...” you admitted, “it’s easy, with small stuff like soda and pants but, it’s harder to separate what I believe with what my parents believe when it’s stuff like that. I spent so many years being told that sex is something sacred for a husband and wife but...I don’t know if that’s something I truly believe.”  
JJ leaned his forehead against yours, kissing your cheek. “I would never, ever do anything you didn’t want to.”  
“I know that.” You replied. “Sorry for ruining Balto.”
“That’s okay, now whenever I watch it, I’ll just think of you wanting to have sex with me.” JJ teased, squeezing your leg just above your knee and making you laugh. You pressed a kiss to JJ’s neck, hiding your face so he couldn’t see you.  
“I love you.” You mumbled, lips brushing against his skin as you spoke.  
He tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you as close to him as he could, practically onto his lap as he kissed your forehead, “I love you too.” He replied.  
You practically jumped off his lap when a knock sounded on the kitchen door, “shoot,” you huffed, closing the laptop as JJ stood up.
“Who is it?” He asked, already grabbing the soda bottles and popcorn.  
“It’s Josiah. He promised my dad he would stop over and check on me.” You explained, keeping your voice down as you grabbed a skirt from the laundry off the kitchen, pulling it up, “go in my room.”
“They sent your brother over? I can’t believe your parents’ don’t trust you.”  
“I literally have a boy in the house!” You whispered, shoving him down the hall toward your room.  
The minute you heard your bedroom door shut you went to the kitchen, letting Josiah in, “sorry, I had the door locked,” you said, hugging your brother as he stepped through the door.  
“That’s alright, I forgot my key anyway. What’re you up to?” He asked, walking further into the house.  
“Laundry, mostly, I finished some homework for mom.” You shrugged, crossing your arms under your chest and glancing down the hall. “So yeah, just hanging out.”
“Man, it’s so quiet here without anyone else.” Josiah commented, “used to be loud no matter what.”
“Oh yeah, but that was all Eli and Robert.” You replied, “I was always an angel.”
He laughed, “yeah sure.”  
Josiah hung around for close to an hour, helping himself to left-over dinner in the fridge and talking about his kids with you, before he finally decided that it was getting late and that you were okay to spend the rest of the night by yourself. By that point you were almost 100% positive that JJ had probably skipped out. You would’ve definitely skipped out if you had to spend an hour sitting in someone’s bedroom while they talked about kids with their older brother. Once you’d locked the door behind your brother you headed to your room, expecting to find it empty. Instead, JJ was sitting there on the top bunk of the beds, reading your KJV bible.  
“You really love that top bunk huh?” You laughed, closing your bedroom door behind you.  
“Absolutely.” He replied, “this stuff is crazy, by the way.”  
“King James is...difficult to understand.” You said, pulling off the skirt you’d put on when Josiah got there and climbing up the ladder to the bunk bed. “I’m not sleeping up here with you, by the way. I have a perfectly good bed down there.”
He smiled, leaning over to kiss you, “I’m staying over?”
“You told me you were staying over, don’t act like it’s a surprise.” You laughed, nudging his side.  
JJ held the book on his lap, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you against him. He set his chin on your shoulder, pushing the book over so that you could see it to. “Here, explain this shit to me.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to call the bible shit.” You said, turning your head so you could kiss him. “I like this.”  
“Sitting on the top bunk?” JJ asked.  
You rolled your eyes, “I mean, getting to spend time with you like this. Not having to worry about my parents or anything.”  
“We should keep doing this.” he replied, “my dad’s got a boat, the Phantom...I’m gonna take it after graduation and head down the coast. You should come with me.”
“Leave? Everything?” You asked. There were only two options and you had known that since you started to develop feelings for JJ. You could break ties with your family and hope that this thing with JJ was real enough to survive or you could walk away from him and marry Timothy and move to Nashville.
“I know it’s a...a lot.” JJ said, “but I just want you to be happy.”  
“I am, right now.”  
“Think about it. We could figure things out, find work somewhere.” He suggested, kissing your shoulder.  
You smiled, leaning into him more but not replying. Your gut reaction was to agree immediately, say that you wanted to go with him anywhere but you didn’t want to rush into anything. This week would be enough for right now.  
-
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ibijau · 3 years
Text
Time for some sad Nies that nobody really asked for :) But I got thinking about little nhs and how his father’s degrading state might affect him and... welp
warning for mentions of child abuse and victim blaming (by the victim himself)
Huaisang has to be pushed into the throne room by his brother, and half-dragged before their father. A-die said he was sorry, and got him a pretty fan for his trouble, but Huaisang still can't help feeling a little scared.
Thankfully, a-die is in a good mood today, and smiles when he sees his sons.
"Come closer," he demands, his eyes avoiding Huaisang's arm. "Come meet our guests." 
The presence of those two severe men in white comforts Huaisang, enough for him to walk closer to his father. A-die is always calmer when there are people around. Still, Huaisang is grateful that da-ge makes sure to stand between him and a-die. 
If a-die notices, he doesn't remark on it. 
"Huaisang, Mingjue, these men are Lan zongzhu and his brother Lan Qiren," a-die announces. 
On cue, Huaisang and his brother bow to the visitors. Huaisang’s bow is a little clumsy, but hopefully he'll be forgiven, on account of the sling. 
"It is a pleasure to meet Nie gongzi and Nie er-gonzi," Lan zongzhu says with a calm and gentle voice, his eyes falling in Huaisang's arm. "May I ask what happened to Nie er-gonzi?" 
It is, of course, the wrong thing to ask. Da-ge takes Huaisang’s hand, the one that isn't hanging out of the sling for his arm, and squeezes tight. Too tight, really, but not enough to break. 
Huaisang knows now just how much pressure needs to be exercised for a bone to break. 
He doesn't answer Lan zongzhu's question, of course. Neither does da-ge. They also, very deliberately, do not look at their father. It has to be a secret, a-die said, but he forgot to give them a story to tell people. Everyone in Qinghe Nie knows already, even if they won't speak about it, and Huaisang has kept mostly to his room since that day. It's not like he can train, not with his arm like that, and there's few visitors who need to see him.
"This is why I asked you to come urgently," a-die explains. "Ever since that incident, I've been… losing control." 
Both his sons are startled to hear him admit such a thing in front of outsiders. Da-ge squeezes Huaisang’s hand tighter, still not enough to break anything, but getting closer to that. Huaisang wants to pull his hand away, but dares not. He's already made a-die angry the other day, he can't afford to upset da-ge as well. 
The two men in white look at Huaisang with puzzled expressions that turn to shock when they realise what a-die is saying. 
"This is…" Lan zongzhu starts, only to be interrupted by a-die. 
"I was thinking of sending Huaisang to Gusu," a-die says. "He could study with you. He doesn't need his arm for that." 
Huaisang gasps, and molds himself against his brother's side, terrified of being sent away. He wants to say that he didn't meant to make a-die so angry the other day, but da-ge has ordered him to be quiet around a-die from now on, and da-ge always knows best. 
"He's too young," Lan Qiren snaps after a quick glance at Huaisang. "How old is he? Ten?" 
"Eleven, but he's very mature. Qiren, this is…" 
"Too young," Lan Qiren insists. "We can't throw him into lectures with boys of fifteen or more."
Lan Qiren turns to his brother, clearly expecting him to agree. Lan zongzhu ignores him, carefully watching Huaisang and his da-ge, as if trying to see something hidden inside them. 
"How did it happen?" Lan zongzhu asks, his eyes on the sling. 
"I lost control," a-die replies. "I'd rather not say more." 
Huaisang is grateful to his father for not saying more. It was his own fault, after all. He's the one who acted bratty, even when a-die had been getting angry so easily since his sabre broke. If Huaisang had been better, if he had been quieter, if he had obeyed, than this wouldn't have happened. 
But he wasn't good, not at all. So now his arm is broken, and a-die wants to get rid of him so he won't have to get angry like that again. 
"If you send one of your sons away, why not the other as well?" Lan zongzhu asks, glancing at da-ge before turning his attention to a-die. 
"I'd rather keep both of them," a-die says. "But Zonghui insisted, for Huaisang." 
Lan zongzhu nods, as does Lan Qiren, as if this means more to them than it does to Huaisang. 
There is something about Zonghui that is special, Huaisang knows. He hasn't figured out the details yet, but Zonghui is allowed to make comments about Huaisang’s education for some reason. No other disciple, no other cousin would dare to do that. But Zonghui can. Maybe because a-die and him are such good friends. They even slept in the same room, before things started going bad. Huaisang has some vague understanding of this being linked to dual cultivation, which only grown ups do. He thinks it involves kissing and being naked, but he's never dared to ask his father for more details, and da-ge says his too young to be told. 
It doesn't really matter. Zonghui and a-die have stopped sleeping together after Huaisang’s arm got broken. 
"If you want, we might have songs that could help," Lan zongzhu hesitantly offers. "How bad is it?" 
"Not as bad as you think," a-die states in a tone that allows no questions. "I'm only doing this to appease Zonghui. It was an isolated incident, nothing more. It wouldn't happen again even if Huaisang stayed and behaved himself, but Zonghui is a bother right now and that's not helping my temper. If I can get some peace, I'll be fine!"
Something in a-die's tone makes Huaisang flinch. His father never used to raise his voice like that, but it keeps happening since his sabre broke. It happened on that day, too. 
Huaisang would be scared if he were alone with his father. Thankfully, da-ge is there, holding his hand, rubbing circles against his skin with his thumb to comfort him. And those two Lan men are smarter than Huaisang, because they notice a-die's change of tone right away. 
"Then we'll take your son to the Cloud Recesses," Lan zongzhu says calmly. "He's the same age as Wangji and Xichen, I'm sure they'll all get along. Do you want us to take him away today?" 
"The sooner the better," a-die grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose, as if his head were starting to hurt.
Just like that day, again. 
The two Lan men seem to notice that, as well. They exchange a quick glance, just like Huaisang does with da-ge when there's trouble. 
"If Nie zongzhu allows it, I'll go help Nie er-gongzi pack for his stay with us," Lan Qiren offers. "Perhaps Nie gongzi will help as well?"
A-die grunts, and waves his hand to dismiss them. Lan Qiren doesn't lose a moment and escorts the boys out of the throne room, leaving his brother alone with a-die. It'll be fine though. Lan zongzhu seems like a reasonable man, so he won't make a-die angry. 
Lan Qiren is very quiet as they walk to Huaisang’s room. Once there, he orders a servant to fetch Nie Zonghui and sets to work, ordering Huaisang and da-ge to grab this and that to be put in a qiankun pouch. 
As they work, Lan Qiren asks da-ge all sorts of questions. Sometimes about their father, and da-ge doesn't answer. Sometimes about Huaisang’s cultivation and education, for which da-ge is more willing to give details. From the way Lan Qiren watches da-ge, Huaisang gets the sensation it's not just the answers that interest him, but also the manner in which they're given.
Then Nie Zonghui joins them at last, and gets asked the same questions. Zonghui doesn't say how Huaisang’s arm got broken, but Huaisang, again, feels that the way he doesn't say certain things is almost more important than the things he does say. 
Not that Huaisang can listen too closely. There are a lot of things to pack, and he keeps having to add things that Lan Qiren didn't think about, like the fan a-die got him, or those books he likes. Huaisang hesitates about taking his training sabre too. Lan Qiren didn't say anything about that, and he can't use it until his arm gets better. Hopefully he'll come home even before his arm is healed, so that won't be a problem… but since he's already not very proficient with a blade, if he stays too long without training, it'll show for sure. 
Sabre in hand, Huaisang walks up to Lan Qiren who is urgently whispering about something with Zonghui and da-ge. They stop when they spot him, but Huaisang still caught a few words such as 'take care of him' and 'hide from the Wens'. 
It turns his blood to ice, but he pretends he didn't hear, or anyway didn't understand. It's easier for everyone like that. Da-ge is so worried about Huaisang understanding too much, he never wants to answer his questions lately, says that it's better if he doesn't know certain things. Huaisang, with his broken arm and broken trust, understands too much already but he doesn't want to add to da-ge's burden by letting him know that. 
A-die too was just very, very worried at first, when his sabre broke. Huaisang got his father to hate him by not behaving well enough, he's not going to risk it with da-ge. 
"Leave the sabre here," Lan Qiren orders. "There's no one in Gusu who can teach you how to use that weapon, our sect uses sword. You'll start learning again when you come home. I'm sure it won't take too long for your father to call you back." 
Huaisang nods, and puts away the sabre. Lan Qiren is right, it's only for a short while. A-die is going to get better, without Huaisang to pester him. And without Huaisang to worry about, Zonghui and a-die will reconcile, and they're always happy when they're together. 
Of course, a little dark voice in his head tells him that maybe a-die won't want him back when he's better, that he'll be blamed for causing all of a-die's anger, but… No. Da-ge won't let that happen, da-ge will ask for his return when things are better, and since da-ge is the heir, when he asks for something hard enough, he always gets it. 
It's just a little time away, and then they'll all be a happy family again. 
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vivifrage · 3 years
Text
Archivist!PK AU Headcanons
Okay so I’ve written a few things in the Archivist!PK AU, either here or in Elegies, Memories. And it sometimes lives rent-free in my brain, so I’m going to make that y’all’s problem too.
Despite being head of the Archives, PK is kind of the campus cryptid. You might catch him skulking around the halls, or deep in one of the libraries. Allegedly he’s in his office sometimes, but what few things he keeps in there are... odd. In all likelihood, though, if he doesn’t want you to see him, you won’t.
Yes he was cleaning the chalkboard. No he doesn’t see this as unusual. It was dirty, he was there with a free hand. What other bugs see as “below his station” is a rather ridiculous set of standards.
Ghost, Hornet, and Hollow all drop by from time to time. Hornet intimidates everyone, both by reputation as the ruler of Deepnest and by being Hornet. Hollow used to intimidate everyone, too. Ghost got cooed over a lot. Over time, though, people learned what happened at the end of the infection and now Ghost intimidates some people, and Hollow gets cooed at.
Hornet visits if she needs something, be it from a scholar or her sire. Though most of Hallownest is now governed by various councils, she still checks in to make sure things are going all right, and her sire freely shares advice with her about rulership.
Ghost visits their friends. Quirrel’s one, of course, but they’ve come to befriend a few of the students and new faculty. They’re fantastic at listening to whatever someone’s working on, and more than one person has had a problem-solving realization while talking to them about something.
Hollow, of course, goes to visit their dad. Both were shy around each other at first, but now if you find Hollow on campus, you’re bound to see PK with them, often stroking their head as he works.
Once people started to realize Hollow was a big, traumatized sweetheart who’d been sacrificed to save Hallownest, they’d motivate each other to do things “for Hollow.” Especially because the big Vessel seemed to like being told about the wonderful things folks were up to. The motto “for Ghost” also caught on soon enough. For a certain contingent, “for Hornet” also works.
Hollow also apprentices under Midwife, and has been getting involved in fostering young hatchlings, particularly ones that need a little extra help to survive and thrive. They bring the worst off ones to their dad, since he has Soul healing.
After one of the hatchlings died despite his interventions, PK was a wreck for weeks. Hollow began bringing the healthier ones to show him after that, so he could see the ones that are doing well. He’ll tuck them under his chin and rumble absentmindedly, to various degrees of success at actually soothing them.
Once he and the White Lady reunite, he’s in her gardens almost every week. He shied out of her territory for a time, but she said he was welcome any time. (He still mostly just goes right to her, and certainly doesn’t try to be any sort of authority in the Queen’s Gardens.)
Don’t ask him to try to do anything the day of his trip to the gardens, and possibly a bit before. He’ll be too busy thinking about his beloved Root. He straight up won’t hear you, he’s drunk too much I Love My Wife juice.
He rarely teaches classes himself. He’ll help provide material or guest lecture sometimes (if the teacher can find him and drag him in), but he doesn’t teach. When he does, it’s because he’s found a small contingent of students he likes and are interested in the same thing, so he’ll teach some tiny upper-level class just for them.
He’s a pretty good, patient teacher, though he’s still figuring out how to be casual, so at times it takes a bit of decoding noble mannerisms to get at what he’s saying. He does sometimes need his students to help him figure out what’s an appropriate amount of work and what can fit in a single lecture, too. But he’s good about taking that feedback.
The Radiance is still around, though on the opposite side of the kingdom! She had A Time when she learned the bitchass wyrm thief had survived, too; she thought she was the only one. He doesn’t know about her and she’d rather keep it that way because she swears she’s going to punch his kingslight out if she meets him.
She has a mini heart attack whenever she sees one of the scholars around, though thankfully they don’t seem to recognize her, between her multiple layers and mortal form.
Is she a little smug she’s the one teaching Ghost how to handle godhood? Why yes, yes she is. She’s still mad at them but kind of proud of her little apprentice. She’s quietly ignoring the painful guilt at how determined they are not to misuse the dream realm.
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Text
Part 1 Part 2 (here) Part 3
So this is part 2 of my WCZ and CZS don’t die and raise WWX and he breaks into Cloud Recess ficlet. It’s longer than I thought it would be and really just deals with the opening ceremony of the Cloud Recess lessons. I did my best, and mostly skipped over dialogue that was in the show but unneccessary to repeat. Also, this story isn’t beta’d, sorry.
If you have any questions feel free to ask. 
As always, I hope you enjoy!
“How do you keep these clean?” Wei Wuxian asks as he follows Lan Wangji through Cloud Recess to the classroom. Apparently, Lan Wangji (Lan-er-Gongzi, as he was told by some disciple. Wuxian opted to ignore him.) was stuck babysitting Wei Wuxian for his time at Cloud Recess until he could be trusted alone. 
 Wei Wuxian would have to do his best to gain that trust. So he could immediately break it by shaving off Lan Qiren’s beard. 
 “Careful.” Lan Wangji states. 
 “But even if I’m super careful, I get my regular robes dirty. These are pure white, how can I possible keep them clean?” Lan Wangji gives him a stern look, and does not respond as they arrive at the Orchid House. Lan Wangji leads them to the front row and gestures for Wei Wuxian to stand next to the second desk. Lan Wangji stands behind his own desk, not quite in the right position but in a good position to keep Wei Wuxian from sneaking out and causing mayhem. With a sigh, Wei Wuxian waits as the other guest disciples enter. He’s never actually done classroom learning. He mostly learnt from his parents, which was almost always hands on now. Sometimes they visited Uncle Jiang and Aunt Yu and he’d join their disciples but they’ve never done classroom learning then either. It’s mostly been training outdoors and teasing Jiang Cheng. 
Wei Wuxian is rather positive he’s never sat down and learnt something in his life. Even when he was young, he was taught talisman’s walking. Or riding on their donkey. Which was technically sitting but he’s never learnt in a proper classroom environment like Cloud Recess. 
So this is a new experience. And his mother always says to embrace new experiences with joy and mischief. His father advises caution, but only in terms of ‘Don’t get over your head. And don’t get caught’.
Wei Wuxian loves his parents. 
He looks to the disciples still slowly milling in and notices Jiang Cheng standing across the aisle. Due to Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian couldn’t go over and say hi, but he waits until Jiang Cheng’s eyes wander in boredom and waves excitedly. Jiang Cheng’s face contorts into a pure ‘What the fuck’ expression, before he turned to the person standing next to him and points to Wei Wuxian. His excitement grows when he sees that it’s Jiang Yanli, who smiled at him and waved hello. 
 Wei Wuxian was about to gesture something else to the duo when Lan Wangji moved to be in proper position for greeting the teacher. Wei Wuxian shifts himself, looking forward as Lan Qiren walks into the room and takes a seat at the head table. Thankfully, his father had the foresight to teach him quite a bit about propriety and eitquette so Wei Wuxian knew enough of what to do. 
 He does still have to take some cues from Lan Wangji but he was mostly fine. 
Wei Wuxian listens to Lan Qiren’s lecture (okay technically a senior disciple was giving it but Lan Qiren was presiding) for all of five minutes before he becomes so bored he’s at risk of falling asleep. So instead he focuses on trying to figure out how he can gain the trust of the Lans. He really doesn’t deserve it, but he has to convince them he does. Which will be hard. 
 His thoughts are interrupted by chirping. He looks around to find the source. He’s pretty sure it’s either coming from behind him or beside him. And since Lan Wangji is the only one beside him, that seems unlikely. So he turns, ignoring Lan Wangji, to see a boy crossing his sleeves to hide something. Wei Wuxian smiles, but quickly turns around when he remembers Lan Wangji right beside him. He doesn’t want the stranger to get caught, but the bird is still chirping… Wei Wuxian smoothly shifts one of his hands to rest against the small of his back before quickly doing a small talisman to put the bird to sleep. His father had made it when their donkey started having trouble sleeping. Apparently taking a donkey night-hunting had some negative affects on the donkey. Might’ve been Yiling. 
The chirping stops and people stop looking around. 
Eventually the Senior Disciple finishes and announces, “The Jin Clan of Lanling is Saluting.”
’The Jin Clan… Isn’t Shijie engaged to a guy from there?’Wei Wuxian watches as Mr. Gold Robes walks to the aisle with another disciple from the other side of Jiang Cheng. 
 “I am Jin Zixuan from the Jin Clan of Lanling.” Mr. Gold Robes states. ’Oh, that’s Shijie’s fiance.’ Wei Wuxian looks him over as he keeps talking, ignoring him mostly. ’She deserves better.’ Wei Wuxian decides when Mr. Gold Robes presents his present to Lan Qiren. 
 Wei Wuxian really hopes Lan Qiren doesn’t expect one from him. He didn’t even want to be here. Also. He forgot Suibian. He didn’t have anything that could be considered a gift. 
 Then again. 
Mr. Gold Robes just gave Lan Qiren a gold book that was completely useless so, eh. Lan Qiren doesn’t have high standards apparently. Then again, if his Muqin is right (and she always is), the Jins tend to just throw gold at their problems until they go away, so maybe he only has low expectations from them. 
Once they’re done and they’ve returned to their desks, the head disciple calls for the Nie Clan to Salute. Wei Wuxian turns when he hears rustling to see the man behind him- apparently of the Nie Clan- quickly putting the bird beneath his desk before walking past Wei Wuxian with what Wei Wuxian assumes is a disciple following behind. Except he’s not wearing the same white robes as everyone else. 
 Odd. 
Wei Wuxian finds out after the pair introduce themselves. He’s already decided he’s going to befriend Nie Huaisang, anyone who would sneak a canary into a classroom is someone he wants to be friends with, but Meng Yao is interesting. Although, as an assistant he’s probably not staying for the lectures. 
 Wei Wuxian’s head turns sharply when he hears two disciples whispering. It was audible to everyone in the quiet room. “He’s the love child of Jin-Zhongzhu, right? It was said that he went to the Jin Clan for a proposal.” 
 Wei Wuxian turns to look at Lan Wangji, who has clearly heard the gossiping disciples. “Lan-er-gongzi, isn’t gossiping against the Lan clan’s rules?” Wei Wuxian whispers to Lan Wangji, although he’s probably not as quiet as he could have been since quite a few people turn to look at him. But Lan Wangji nods and suddenly neither of the gossiping disciples can open their mouths. Wei Wuxian glances over to the pair still in the aisle before turning his attention forward. 
 Zewu-Jun meets his eyes before turning and walking into the aisle to accept the gift. And praise Meng Yao. 
 When Nie Huaisang and Meng Yao walk back to their desks, Meng Yao gives Wei Wuxian a small smile, Wei Wuxian returns the smile, and silently vows to get to know both of them. Nie Huaisang was bound to be awesome, but he’s yet to get a good read on Meng Yao aside from Zewu-Jun liking him. Maybe he’s a fuddy duddy like Lan Wangji, maybe he’s mischievous like Wei Wuxian, only way to find out is to get to know him. 
Finally, it was the Jiang Clan’s turn to salute. Jiang Cheng and a disciple walk into the aisle. Jiang Cheng was in the middle of introductions when a bunch of guys in red robes walk in, led by a greasy looking guy. They seem, vaguely familiar. Wei Wuxian’s first instinct is to ask Lan Wangji, but he’d probably not say anything, he actually looks really pissed off. Best not to bother him when he might be stab happy. So he turns to Nie Huaisang. 
 “Who’re they?” He whispers, really quietly this time as to not disturb their talking. 
“The Wen Clan of Qishan.” Nie Huaisang whispers back. 
Oh. That makes sense. “The overconfident overcompensating ones.” Wei Wuxian whispers. Although not quietly enough since the leader turns to glare at him. 
“What did you just say?” The man demands.
Ah, shit. Wei Wuxian puts on the fake smile he learnt from his mom ( “Imagine you’re beating someone’s face in, smile, and then not do it.” “Why do you sound so disappointed?” “What’s the point of imagining beating someone up if you don’t get to do it?”) and salutes, “Please forgive this one, he did not mean to interrupt. He is merely a rogue cultivator graciously allowed into these lectures and was unaware of the major clans.” Eh, mostly truthful. 
 The leader sneers, “Cloud Recess has clearly gone bad if they’re letting people like you into the lectures.” 
“As someone who’s never been to a Cloud Recess lecture, can you really make that call?” Wei Wuxian asks before he can stop himself. He really hates his mouth sometimes. The Lans don’t need him to defend them. He doesn’t even like them. Okay, he kind of likes Lan Wangji. The others he doesn’t give a shit about. 
The leader scoffs, “A rogue cultivator with a big head.” 
“At least I have the skill to back it.” Well. When you’ve gotten your feet wet, why not jump in? 
“What did you just say?” 
“I’m sure you heard me, young master, I did not stutter nor did I say it quietly. At your age your hearing should not be going and you were speaking to Zewu-Jun just fine.” Wei Wuxian says as polite as possible, “So I assume you intend to ask what I meant.” Yeah… he was pissing off this guy. “However, young master, please indulge this servant… what’s your name?” He should probably know. After all, Muqin is keeping a list of all Wei Wuxian’s enemies. It’s disturbingly long considering he’s only had three full years to make enemies. Wei Wuxian ignores the reactions, which was contained laughter -Nie Huaisang and Meng Yao-, Irritation -Lan Wangji and Mr. Gold Robes-, Concern -Shijie-, and ‘What the fuck shut up!’ -Jiang Cheng-, and adds, “This one does not mean to offend, he truly is unaware of the inner disciples of the major clans.” Wow is he going to feel bad if this guy isn’t an inner disciple. He has the attitude of one. Maybe related to the sect leader? He kind of acts like Jin Zixun. So. Probably not a direct descendent but a spoiled nephew or something. 
“Do you live under a rock?” The man sneers. 
“No. Although until two months ago I was living on a celestial mountain.” His Grandmaster had broken her rule of her disciples not being allowed back when she learned of his existence. Apparently Grandchildren trumped not wanting to interact with the mortal realm. Wei Wuxian didn’t mind. His Grandmaster was awesome. Although he didn’t actually live on the mountain. They visited for three months of the year, so, that was not an excuse to not know who this guy was. 
 Wei Wuxian’s answer causes murmurs to go up. Ah, yes. Right. Celestial Mountain removed from society is gossip worthy. Greeeat. 
 The man scoffs, but finally says, “I am Wen Chao.” 
“It’s an honour to meet you, Wen-gongzi. Please forgive this one for his transgressions.” Ahh, Fuqin’s polite classes are finally being used. Even though Wei Wuxian would rather be using Fuqin’s ‘Break-a-face’ classes right now.
“Not unless you repeat what you said early in plain language.” Oh, great. He was stuck on that. Apparently Wei Wuxian would get to use Fuqin’s ‘Break-a-face’ classes anyways. 
 “I simply said that I had the skills to back up my big head.” 
Aaaand Wen Chao is really pissed. Shouldn’t the Lans have stepped in by now? Or is Lan Qiren letting him hang himself? He hopes not. “And what did you mean.” Wen Chao hisses. 
Ah, wonderful. There’s going to be a fight and he doesn’t have his sword. He shouldn’t have left her behind just because she was being moody. “That if you were truly skilled in cultivation as much as you boast, you would not need to throw raw power around recklessly. If your clan is truly as great as the rumours boast, then you would not need to have reckless displays of power, such as breaking into Cloud Recess.” Which is quite easy in Wei Wuxian’s opinion, thank you very much, not that he would say that. “It would be unnecessary. Displays of power with brute force rather than with your own cultivation shows how weak you truly are, and that you depend on others for things you should be able to do yourself.” Wei Wuxian shrugs, “I apologize if I am wrong, I was told the QishanWen Clan was one of Large Egos without the abilities to match up.” 
“Wen-Zhongzhu has the abilities to match up. His strength is unparalleled in the cultivation world.” Wen Chao states with pride. Wei Wuxian is not sure why, it’s not like he’s Wen-Zhongzhu.
“And my mother’s vindictiveness is unparalleled. But your Clan Leader does not give your whole sect their reputation. Otherwise the entirety of the Jin Clan would be known as, womanizers.” Wei Wuxian nearly says Man-whores and suddenly wishes his mother would censor herself more around him. “A Clan’s reputation comes from it’s people. Not the leaders. And currently you give your clan the reputation of bully’s with a lot of brute force but no real cultivation skills.” 
“Why you-“ Wen Chao starts, but finally Lan Qiren cuts in. 
“Wen Chao, if you are not here to attend the lectures, I must ask that you leave the Orchid House. You have interrupted, if you remain, I will require you to remain for a few days to copy the entirety of Simple Propriety. A book you should have been taught long ago.” Lan Qiren states. 
“Young Master Wen, today is our Ceremony Day, I hope that you can restrain yourself from attacking an unarmed disciple.” Zewu-Jun adds, and Wei Wuxian shifts uncomfortably. He’s grateful for the save- he was definitely talking himself into an early grave- but did they have to bring attention to the fact that he didn’t have his sword? 
Wen Chao looks as if he does not want to restrain himself, but a woman interrupts him. Swiftly moving forward and saluting Zewu-Jun, and the Lan Qiren. “I am Wen Qing of the Wen Clan of Qishan, I am under orders of His Excellency to attend the lectures. We hope that Grandmaster Lan and Lan-Zhongzhu can forgive us for being late, myself and my little brother, Wen Ning, are new to Cloud Recess and do not know the rules.” Once she’s done, she offers a red chest to Zewu-Jun. 
There’s a long silence before Lan Qiren states he’ll accept it. The Wen Clan leaves after Zewu-Jun tells them to be on time for tomorrows lecture. And then he gestures for the Jiang Clan to continue their salute before returning to his post. Once the Jiangs are done and they’re dismissed Wei Wuxian turns to Nie Huaisang. 
“So, is Wen Chao someone important?” 
 “Ah? Wei-Xiong, do you really not know?” Nie Huaisang asks, seemingly surprised. 
Meng Yao answers Wei Wuxian’s question, “Wen Chao is the youngest son of Wen-Zhongzhu.” 
Oh. “Oh. Huh. Well, can’t undo the insults.” 
“That was unwise.” Lan Wangji states. 
“I didn’t mean to get into an argument. I tried to finish it! He kept talking to me.” Wei Wuxian defends. Lan Wangji shakes his head, clearly disappointed. At least, Wei Wuxian thinks he’s disappointed. Maybe tired? He should really learn how to read Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian turns to Nie Huaisang and Meng Yao with a smile, “Ah, Nie-Xiong, Meng-Xiong,” Maybe that was wrong? Meng Yao had jumped at the address. Oh well. “Would you mind educating this one a little? I have gaps in my knowledge.” Lan Wangji shakes his head, but does not remind Wei Wuxian about needing an escort, in fact, he walks away. Sweet. 
“Ah, of course Wei-Xiong.” Nie Huaisang seemed more than happy to help. “But uh, what did you do to my bird?” He asks as the trio leave the Orchid House. 
“Oh, I just put it to sleep. Couldn’t have her making noise and interrupting the senior disciple.” Wei Wuxian quickly undoes his talisman and the bird wakes up. And immediately starts singing. “Where’d you find her?” Wei Wuxian asks, admiring the red bird. 
“On the way. I followed her for three whole days.” Nie Huaisang says happily. 
“Wow.” Wei Wuxian definitely did not have the patience for that. “Impressive.” 
Nie Huaisang shook his head, “Ah, no, it was nothing.” 
 “What do you plan to do with her?” 
Nie Huaisang shrugs, “Probably let her go. Cloud Recess doesn’t allow pets. And neither does Da Ge.” 
 “And Da Ge is…” Wei Wuxian would assume it’s Clan Leader Nie, but, he can’t say for sure. 
“Nie Huaisang is the younger brother of Qinghe Nie’s current Clan Leader.” Meng Yao states. 
 “Ah, thank you Meng-Xiong.” Meng Yao reacts the same way to the address as he did earlier, “Sorry, should I not be calling you such? I have limited interactions with Major Clans.” 
“Ah, no, it’s fine. It’s just… it’s not proper. I am merely an assistant.” 
“And I’m a rogue cultivator, I’m pretty sure I’m lower on the hierarchy than you.” Wei Wuxian says with a shrug. It’d be one thing if it was status, but, if Nie Huaisang is fine with the addresses, then Meng Yao shouldn’t have so much of a problem. Wei Wuxian is the lowest of the three of them, and Nie Huaisang the highest. Maybe Meng Yao is just really concerned with status? 
 Before he could say anything, Jiang Cheng interrupts with his normal grace and tact. Meaning he shoves Wei Wuxian and asks, “What’re you doing here?” 
“I’m attending the lectures.” Wei Wuxian answers with a smile. 
Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes, “Why? You didn’t come here for them, or else you would’ve brought Suibian and Xueyan.” 
 Wei Wuxian nods, really regretting not taking either of them. “I was curious about the clan with over three thousand rules, so I broke in.”
”What?!”
“Lan Wangji caught me, brought me to face disciplinary action from Grandmaster Lan, and my disciplinary action was attending the lectures. And copying their rules like three times.” 
“You’re attending the lectures as punishment?” Jiang Cheng’s tone was full of disbelief. Wei Wuxian didn’t understand why. 
“...You’ve met my parents, A-Cheng.” Jiang Cheng takes a moment to think before nodding, disbelief disappearing from his face. 
 Meng Yao opens his mouth but snaps it shut when the Lan brothers come up to the group. The quartet salutes in greeting. 
“This is from your mother.” Zewu-Jun says, handing over Suibian and Xueyan. Wei Wuxian’s face lights up as he accepts his sword and horsetail whisk from Zewu-Jun. Yes! It’d be great if he could actually draw Suibian, but he’ll test that out later. “She also sent a letter.” Zewu-Jun states, but makes no move to hand over a letter, which leaves two options. 1) The letter was to Lan Qiren -however it makes no sense for Zewu-Jun to tell him this. 
So Option 2) “It was rude, wasn’t it?” 
“It was a voice letter.” Wei Wuxian really resists the urge to cackle. Because his mother only sends voice letters for three reasons. 1) to chew someone out. 2) to laugh at someone who’s far away from her. 3) to encourage Wei Wuxian in being the Chaos Gremlin she raised. 
He’d split his bet between 2 and 3. Leaning more toward 3. 
“Ah.” He didn’t really have anything else to say. 
“Your punishment will be carried out in the Library, Wangji will supervise you.” Zewu-Jun states, before saluting and leaving. “Ah, do we have to go now?” Wei Wuxian asks, his pleading face on for Lan Wangji. 
 It was useless. “Yes.” 
 “Okay, okay. I’ll talk to you later Nie-Xiong, Meng-Xiong. Don’t be so grumpy A-Cheng.” Wei Wuxian says and starts off in the direction he assumes the Library is in. Lan Wangji’s yank of his arm in a different direction proves his assumption false. “Ah, Er-gege, so rough!” Wei Wuxian whines. 
“Ridiculous.”
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maruzzewrites · 4 years
Note
Naughty, redeemed rival with Risotto please 😳
This is pre-Vento Aureo, with Risotto and reader still in high school. Risotto is an awkward teen who doesn’t know how to deal with feelings. This is mostly fluff.
Being competitive was odd where you studied, a little high school where no more than a few hundred teens would gather to learn to build their futures. You weren't the most brilliant student, or the most athletic, yet you were constant and diligent enough to get the approval of your teachers. Your classmates would roll their yes at you and mock you with ferocity, but you were always ready to help whoever was giving a lecture at the time. You liked the trust your authority figures could give you, and didn't care enough to bow your head when your peers would chant insults at you after each lesson.
However, there was a ounce of resentment in your mind. For all the work you put into being a persevering student despite not being the best, your teachers would pour the same kind of praise they gave you to one of your classmates: an odd guy, tall and brooding, stoic to the point you believed his face was paralyzed. You knew him, he was Risotto Nero, a kid you've met before in your childhood; a little rascal that would keep quiet and stare menacingly from the corner, waiting for the right moment to sneak up on you. You remember when he would pull your hair, push you down or drag you around when you were young kids, never uttering a word until his grandmother would run to your rescue. Then he'd let you go, and you'd run away without listening to the scolding he had to endure.
This treatment continued after, even when you started to go to school. To your chagrin, he attended the same school both for elementary and junior high. Always in the same class, you were subject to his attentions every day; his silent ways were unnerving, his obsession with sitting near you anytime he had the possibility was bothersome, but you hated with all your heart how the teachers would commend his quiet nature in class and his attention, no matter the results he would get or the harassment you had to face. You were the first to admit he was less brutish, he would physically hurt you, but his stares and proximity irritated you enough that you wanted to never see him again.
You hoped that opportunity would come with high school, with the division in different types of schools, but you were unlucky enough that he picked the same institution as you. That's how you found yourself in the same classroom, and how you found yourself to strive for being the most loved student by your teachers, with sweat and kissing ass if it was needed. It was also how you found yourself tutoring him in a petty attempt to one up him, despite how twisted it sounded. You were even sure it worked, with how nervous he looked when the teacher gladly accepted your help with his falling grades in math.
You assumed he disliked you just as much as you did with him, if his dark eyes burning hole in the back of your head were any indication. Maybe you were an obstacle to his interest in staying under the teachers' wing and gain their favor, but you were intent in besting him in the only way you could. That was being the favorite and if that meant you had to spend some hours in his company, in the afternoon, so be it. After the class, you approached him, taking in his tense shoulders and eyes wide open, to set a time for him to get to your house.
That afternoon, you picked the books needed, collected the only calculator in your house, and sat down to wait for your guest. You didn't really know if he would be late or not, but the ring of the intercom informed you he was actually pretty early. Half an hour, to be precise. You got up and opened the door down the hall, after making sure it was Risotto, and waited behind the door until you heard him knock. Then you opened it, with all intentions to let him in with a wide smile, but you felt the corners of your mouth drop as soon as he got in your field of vision: he changed clothes, that was for sure, but he decided coming to your house with a shirt and trousers formal enough to fit under a business casual blazer. What threw you off, however, was the exaggerated bouquet that matched the red of his eyes and his cheeks; you didn't even know this guy could display that much emotion.
"My mother told me to bring these." After the single look he dared to give you, he tried to explain why he had flowers for a simple session of tutoring. After that sentence and your silence, he tried with all his might to look in front of him, inside your house and over your head, taking advantage of your height difference to avoid your gaze. Your mind didn't want to process what was happening, but your were present enough to see your neighbor outside her door, giggling to herself at the scene.
With a frustrated groan, you grabbed Risotto's arm and dragged him inside before slamming the door. He had some explaining to do.
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crime-brains · 4 years
Text
Fame
chapter one
Summary: An AU where the members of the BAU are famous but in vastly different ways. When they're all invited onto a reality TV show, what unusual friendships, and maybe even romances, will bloom?
TW: Strong Language
                        He stepped up to the podium, the spotlight is glaringly bright, making him unbearably hot in his suit jacket, which was layered upon a button-up and sweater vest.
                         As the applause died down in the crowded lecture hall, Spencer took a breath and began to speak. Speaking in front of this large of a crowd would normally be daunting, but if there was one thing Spencer loved, it was teaching others.
                         He loved learning, he always had. And as a nine-year-old, sitting alone at a table in a high school cafeteria, he would have loved something like this, and he could only hope the crowd felt the same. He hoped they felt that same, intense hunger for knowledge, the same joy when they learned something they hadn't known just a moment before. He was a passionate learner, which made him a passionate teacher, and that's why almost every university in the world wanted him to guest lecture.
                                   Well, that or his IQ of 187.
                         Before he knew it, the lecture was over. He had encouraged any curious students to come see him afterwards and was delighted at how many kids were genuinely interested in what he was saying.
                          After happily answering several questions, Spencer stepped out of the lecture hall and made his way to his car, which was waiting just outside the building. He slid into the backseat, saying a quick hello to his driver Stanley before plugging in his earbuds and beginning to listen to the day's news. It was mostly mundane things, which Spencer was always happy for.
                         Soon enough Spencer was home. Despite accumulating a good amount of wealth over the years, he decided to live in a modest home, not tiny yet not huge, tucked away behind some trees, with a long, winding driveway and a mailbox decorated as a cow.
                          As he entered his home, he slipped off his shoes, jacket, and sweater vest. He headed to his bedroom, slipping off his button-up along the way. Once he reached his room he made a beeline for the dresser and pulled out a t-shirt. As he turned to face his mirror he paused, the t-shirt clutched in his hands, and he studied the scars just under his pectoral muscles.
                          It had been nearly a year since his top surgery, but he couldn't help but take a moment every time he was shirtless, just to be happy that he has the means to be himself. He slipped the shirt on and traded his khakis for some fluffy Star Trek pajama pants.
                        He collapsed into bed, and almost immediately began to drift off...
《》
                               In a dark room lit only by the soft glow of a few computer monitors, their fingers flew across the keyboard. They were in the midst of taking down a website where pedophiles were buying and selling child porn. And, Boom. With one final click, the website and all its contents had been essentially erased.
                               They leaned back in their bright pink gaming chair, and grabbed their monster energy drink, taking a sip and relishing the feeling of a job well done.
                                 They stood up and began to make their way to the kitchen of their small apartment for a midnight snack, Emily, their roommate, was holed up in her room trying to come up with their next song.
                                   'This one's gonna put us on the map, Penelope, I just know it.' That's what Em would always say before they released their next album. But to be honest, Penelope was fine just how they were, sure, money could be tight, but they had a small, semi-dedicated fanbase, and were able to get gigs fairly regularly.
                                     Before they opened the fridge, Penelope turned on the small radio that sat perched on top of the freezer, it was already set to the only local punk station. They stared into the fridge, the drone of the radio comforting in the background until something caught their attention.
                 "-And this next song is by a local punk band called Of Men And Pigs-"
                                     Penelope immediately ran to Emily's room and knocked furiously on the door.
                           "Emily!! Emily! Oh my god!" The door suddenly swung open.
                            "Penelope- You know how much I love you but I'm trying to write a song-"
                                       "We're on the radio!"
                                    "What?" They both bolted into the kitchen where one of their most recent songs was blaring from the speakers of the tiny radio.
                                    "Holy shit. We're on the radio."
                                    "That's what I was trying to tell you!" Suddenly a small sound tore their attention away from the radio.
                                          "Pi-ka-choo."
                                     "What the hell was that?" Emily asked, her brow furrowing.
                                     "That's my notification tone." Penelope went to her room and picked up her phone.
                                      "Holy cow." They whispered as they stared down at the notifications on their phone. They walked slowly back to the kitchen.
                                       "Emily, people are pledging to our Patreon. Like, pledging a lot." Emily came and peeked over Penelope's shoulder.
                                             "Holy fuck."
《》
                                    "Come on Morgan! What are you? A pansy? Keep it moving!" Morgan tried to ignore his coach's remarks and finished up the final lap of his cool-down. The practice had been difficult today, but it wasn't the drills or the number of miles they had to run that was the issue. There was something else that had been nagging at him.
                                       He made his way to the locker room and made a beeline for the showers. He quickly rinsed off and pulled on a clean t-shirt and sweatpants.
                                        As he was leaving the locker room one of his teammates stopped him.
                                         "Hey Morgan, heard you scored one of the cheerleaders. Nice."
                                         "Hasn't Morgan already fucked the whole squad?" Another one of his teammates piped in with a laugh.
                                         "Nah, I've got a date with Savannah tonight."
                                            "I could've sworn you already got with her."
                                            "Nope. I'll see you guys around, gotta get ready for tonight, you know." He finally made his way out of the locker room and drove to his penthouse apartment.
                                               His teammates were pretty good guys, they really were, but he did wish they would be more respectful towards women. He would never actually bring this up to his team, he would never see the end of it if he did, but a guy could dream.
                                                  As he entered the apartment he checked the time and swore, it was almost time for him to pick Savannah up. He quickly changed into a nice suit and put on a bit of cologne before heading out to the elevator and into the garage where he slid into the driver's seat of his sleek black Lamborghini and made his way to Savannah's place.
《》
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corvidexoskeleton · 3 years
Note
Please tell us some Butch as teacher/professor trademarks if you're so inclined
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Since the example I gave in the tags was my middle school woodshop teacher, I’m just gonna go ahead and start off by listing some of the more notable quirks of his, as well as some of the highlights from his class
One of the chillest dudes I’ve ever met
Most students who had his class didn’t call him “mr” and would instead just use his last name exclusively 
Almost like a college teacher in that /most of the time/ he wouldn’t really give a shit about telling students to work instead of just doing their own thing
Used to be a history teacher, and would frequently spend the entire class regaling any students who would listen with history facts and other interesting topics he knew about
There was almost always a group of students around his desk 
Sometimes the impromptu lectures would derail after someone asked a question, and he would go off into a totally different lecture based on the question
I remember one day he explained 1984 by George Orwell, how it applies to society, and the way our society functions in the ways depicted
Another day, he explained what you should do on the off chance you come up with a patent for something new so that other people can’t steal it, and what the legality behind everything was. On another day, he explained how credit cards work and how misuse of them can completely fuck your life, and how to avoid it once you’re old enough to use them
Didn’t give a single fuck about students doodling or writing on the tables
He didn’t even care if you sat or stood on the tables
In fact, on days where he either had to talk to the class in the main room or went off on a tirade, it wasn’t uncommon for half the classes to put their chairs on top of the big table in the center and hang out up there while he talked
Had all the computers in the room set up so that he could see everyone’s screens on his computer
If you were screwing off on the days we were supposed to be using the computers, or just screwing off in general, he’d take control of your mouse and start clicking things
14 year old me definitely got my computer “hacked” the one time I tried to use tumblr in his class
His demonstrations of how all the power tools work included short and to the point explanations of just how it they can and will fuck you up
“A piece of wood about the size of your finger is a lot harder and stronger than your finger. You see how easy [the band saw] cut through that? That’s what will happen to you if you’re not careful”
Would frequently share anecdotes from previous years, most of which included wild things he’d seen or heard his students do, as well as some stuff he himself had done
Was actually a pretty nice dude, and would really try to help anyone that needed it
His idea of project storage for our assignments boiled down to telling us to find a spot in the main shop room to hide our stuff and making sure we had our names on them. Even if said hiding place was behind a computer tower, in a drawer, a cupboard, just anyplace we could stuff a pile of half-assembled wood pieces
Actually, one of my projects got stolen while I was working on it, and when I told him about it, he asked how far I’d gotten, and then proceeded to rebuild another one for me up to where I’d been
The bathroom passes for his class were large, random objects with his name plastered on them. At one point, I think it was an entire toilet seat
So uh, that’s Elgin. There’s a lot more I could add, but you probably get the idea. Just some chill middle-aged dude that knew the best way to deal with teenagers was to let them go /mostly/ free while also taking no shit and being 100% ready and willing to actually help if they needed it
Anyways. This was originally supposed to be about Butch, so about Butch I shall speak
I don’t think they’d ever be in an actual teaching job prior to the war, though, so they’d be limited to the occasional guest lecture. But the above stuff is kind of how I imagine they’d be if they did hold a teaching position: pretty chill, not too worried about trying to get students to obey or follow a strict set of rules so long as they’re not misbehaving or are doing their work, and overall just vibing 
Not too sure if they’d be more of a college professor or a high school/middle school teacher, but leaning more towards high/middle school. Mostly because they like kids well enough, and they’d be able to have more of a positive impact on students if they’re still teens and not adults
Would probably be the computer/programming class teacher
If the school happens to have one, would definitely be in charge of the robotics club, or whatever other activities the school has that are related to electronics, computers, or engineering
I don’t remember what it’s called, but I remember in my own middle school computer class, we had to use a program or something that let you design and build your own robots, and then the students in the class would fight each other using what they made. I could definitely see Butch holding semester long tournaments for classes by using something like that
Or just by having them spend the year making their own little robot, and then having the final of the class be a tournament
Has a high chance of going on a tirade about big tech companies or sites and how they will try to steal your information, how to tell if certain sites and whatnot are safe or unsafe, how and why you should use VPNs or certain browsers or sites in order to avoid or minimize that shit, and every other thing that tech heads will go about regarding internet safety
Definitely sounds like a paranoid conspiracy theorist whenever they do
Would keep a mini fridge in their classroom that they let students use
Technically students are supposed to call them Dr. Selvik, but they just tell their students to call them Butch
You can tell who has taken their class based on who does or doesn’t 
Keeps the lights in the room off most of the time, and instead has other lights hanging up around the walls or from the ceiling
Has been known to bring Lily in with them when she was little. Would also sometimes be visited by Blair
Walls are all covered in posters, diagrams, Ye Olde Internet Memes, and art from students
Also some pictures of them with various figures of varying importance, which may or may not include a bad selfie with an acclaimed foreign scientist and engineer and his funky little crocodile bot they met at a one of those robotics competitions 
Lots of pictures of Lily, too, and possibly some of her art
Is vastly amused every time a student accidentally misspells their name as Bitch or Dr. Bitch
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p-artsypants · 4 years
Text
Longest Night (36) Visiting
Ao3 | FF.net
Waking up was slowly becoming Adrien’s least favorite activity. Of course, that was shortly followed by falling back to sleep. He was in a state of barely wakefulness, while also being too tired to sleep. His mouth was dried out and scratchy, and the tingling sensation of numbness had settled into his limbs.
Breathing was still difficult. He knew that the tube in his throat was supposed to be helping with that, but it just sucked. It all sucked. Everything hurt, and he felt disgusting, and his nose itched.
Was this his existence from now on? He didn’t know if he could bare it.
The doctor was standing in front of him. “Hi Adrien, how are you feeling today?”
How was he supposed to answer that? With a moan? A smile?
“Wink once for yes, and twice for no.”
Wink.
“Excellent. Now I know you’re uncomfortable, but we need to wake you up for a little bit. In about an hour, we’ll sedate you again.”
Oh so he wasn’t even sleeping on his own? Damn.
“Are you warm enough?”
Wink.
“Are you thirsty?”
Wink.
“Yeah, I’m sure your mouth is dry too. But you can’t take any fluids by mouth right now. You have a feeding tube in your mouth, and a nasotracheal tube in your nose so you can breathe. Then we have an IV for fluids. Because you’re thirsty, that’s a sign that I can up your fluid intake.”
Adrien closed his eyes, emotion building behind his eyelids.
He didn’t want this.
“We’re going to get some food in you too, while you’re awake. It might feel a little awkward because you won’t be swallowing on your own, but you have to eat.”
It not like Adrien could protest.
So food was forced down the tube in his throat by a pump. It wasn’t a lot, but it helped to ease the pain in his stomach.  
“There’s someone who’s been dying to see you. Well, he’s been here for a while, but he wants you to see him,” Said the doctor. “Are you up for a guest?”
No. He wasn’t. He didn’t want anyone to see him.
Unless it was Marinette. In which case, yes.
Wink.
Instead, a black blur floated in front of his face. “Hey kid,” Plagg greeted, with a soft voice full of affection.
Looking into Plagg’s infinite green eyes, Adrien felt a hurricane of emotions. Feelings of abandonment, betrayal, grief, and failure. Of sorrow and anger, confusion and hatred.
It was awful and unfair. Plagg hadn’t done anything wrong, and Adrien knew that in his head.
But trauma messes with the brain.
Adrien clenched his eyes shut, as tears leaked out.
“I missed you,” Plagg said, nuzzling against his cheek.
Where were you?! Adrien screamed in his head, I needed you!
“You’re so brave, Adrien.”
But Adrien didn’t want to hear it. He was so lost in his hurt, he couldn’t bare it. He swatted Plagg away, feebly.
The Kwami sunk to the mattress, staring at his charge. This was not the tearful reunion he expected. “Adrien?” He whispered.
The boy kept his eyes shut as tears continued to slip out.
The doctor carefully wiped his face. “Alright, that’s enough for today.” He urged.
Plagg disappeared, hiding somewhere out of sight, and that was just fine with Adrien.
“That wasn’t very nice, Adrien.” Gabriel scolded.
Ugh. He wanted to talk to his father even less. Especially right now. Why was he even here? Wasn’t he profoundly disappointed in him already? Was he a glutton for punishment?
“Plagg has been here all along. He’s been worried sick. I’ve been worried sick.”
Yeah right.
Adrien rolled his eyes and turned his face towards his pillow. This was unfair, having to listen to this, not being allowed to leave. Not being able to defend himself.
“Mr. Agreste,” the doctor interrupted. “Adrien’s heart rate is accelerating. We’re trying to keep him calm. Perhaps now is not the time for a lecture.”
“Of course. I’m sure he’s just confused.”
Confused? No, he was perfectly aware of what was going on. He was in a hospital, bound to a bed, and being prepared to fit right back into the peg he didn’t fit anymore. He could see it unfolding around him.
And it was maddening.
“I can see you’re feeling tired. Ready to go back to sleep?”
Please. Please for the love of God.
Wink.
“Alright. Just try to relax and take a deep breath, counting down from ten.
1…
2…
3…
Well it didn’t work, because here he was awake again.
“Good morning Adrien, how are you today?”
Again, he couldn’t talk. Hadn’t they just had this conversation? Perhaps not, considering the doctor had been wearing a blue shirt yesterday, and today he was wearing a red one.
Had he slept that hard?
“Are you cold?”
Wink wink.
“Are you hot?”
Now that he thought about it, he was stifling under these blankets.
Wink.
The doctor rolled back the top layer.
Again, he was force fed some unidentifiable substance through a feeding tube, and he was asked a dozen yes or no questions.
“I have some more visitors for you. If you’re up for it.”
Why not? It’s not like he was really given a choice.
But when Tom Dupain came into view, with a warm and tender smile on his lips, Adrien relaxed.
“Hey kiddo, look at you! You’ve got some color in your cheeks!” He said softly, brushing his thumb over his forehead.
That felt nice.
Sabine was up further by his head. “We’ve been with Marinette most of the time, but when the doctor said you were going to wake up for a little bit, we just had to come say hi!” She was lightly scratching his scalp.
That felt really nice.
Now these were parents. Always a warm welcome, full of hugs, ready to stuff him full of carbs. Whenever he had come over to Marinette’s house, they had both asked about his day, his well-being. It was everything he craved in his own father.
They were a comfort. The comfort of having a mom and dad around when you didn’t feel well. Though they couldn’t necessarily make the pain go away, the kiss on the head was soothing.
“Marinette’s sitting up now and eating on her own.” Sabine said, as she squeezed his hand. “Isn’t that just wonderful? She still sleeps most of the time, but that’s really good.”
It hurt to hear about his lady. Hurt to hear and not see.
“She came to see you a few days ago,” said Tom. “When you were severely unstable instead of mostly unstable.” He joked. “She really misses you.”
And he missed her. Even though they were mostly separated in the catacombs, she was still with him in experience. The fear for her safety, wondering if she was safe, it kept her close when he couldn’t be with her. Her voice from the adjacent cell, her hand in his...
What a horrible thing to bond over.
“She’d come see you every day if she could.” Tom insisted, “but the doctors want you both to stay as calm as possible. Especially you. But it won’t be long until we move you into the same room.”
Sabine swept the bangs from his forehead. “And Marinette is really looking forward to spending the Christmas season with you. Hot cocoa, cookies, evenings in front of the fire and watching the snow fall...”
All things he had seen in movies, but nothing he had emotional attachment to. Maybe having them around for the season would make things more bearable, but he doubted Sabine had any idea how unmotivated the holiday made him.
“You’re so strong.” Sabine whispered, before kissing his forehead. “You’re fading fast, but just know that we’ll be checking in on you when we can.”
Adrien felt a tear run down his cheek.
What did he do to deserve such love? Did they just love Marinette so much that it overflowed onto the people she loved? Was that what a parent’s love was like? Or what it should be like?  
With one last squeeze to his hand, they left. Their departure was foggy, as the drugs started to kick in again.
“Just sleep Adrien, you’re doing so well,” praised the doctor.
1…
2…
3…
And then he was awake again. And the process repeated himself. Hot? Wink wink. Cold? Wink. Blankets. Food.
Guest?
Wink.
This time, it was someone he was unfamiliar with. A woman with short gray hair, stout, Coke-bottle glasses.
“Well hello there, Adrien. Adrien Agreste, the one and only! How’re you feeling sweetie?”
Oh, so this was a fan then? Or perhaps another nurse?
“My name is Dr. Robin Zollar, I’m a board certified clinical psychologist, and I specialize in the treatment of physical and emotional trauma in youth. I’m going to be working with you and Marinette going forward.”
Her voice sounded so familiar to him. Who did she remind him of?
“I know it’s kind of a kick in the pants not being able to talk things out right now, but I just came to introduce myself and let you know I’m here for you.”
It was a cartoon character, for sure. An older woman in a cartoon...
“I’ll be keeping an eye on your recovery, and when you can talk, I’ll be right here to listen. And if you don’t want to talk about it right away, you don’t have to. I won’t judge, I’m just here to help.”
Ah yes. The fairy godmother from Cinderella. An odd connection, but it felt accurate.
“What you’ve both been through is extremely traumatic, and it’s one that no one else can sympathize with. From here on out, you’re going to have to learn what your new normal is. Don’t expect to get right back to where you were. You need to be patient with yourself and know your limits. Most of all, I want you to talk out what you��re feeling. Don’t bottle stuff up, though it might be easy to do so.”
What, no bippity boppity boo?
“You have a great support network here. It’ll be really easy to shut everyone out, but I recommend against that.”
A strong support network? Where was that network the rest of his life? When his mother died? Through all those years of grieving and neglect? When he asked for therapy?
Where was the comfort then? He had asked for help. And he had been told he didn’t need it. It took the trauma to be public to get help.
And that was bullshit.
“Is that something you’re interested in? Wink once for yes, twice for no.”
Wink wink.
The woman nodded. “Okay. Well, if you change your mind, your father will get in touch with me.”  
Yeah right. If he changed his mind, his father will ridicule him for it. ‘Why didn’t you take it before?’ He’d ask, ‘it’s been long enough now. You don’t need it anymore.’
But it’s not like it would help anyway.
The psychologist bid him farewell while he was lost in his thoughts, and soon he was put back to sleep again.
The next morning, while felt like a minute later, Adrien blinked his eyes open, seeing Doctor Boucher nearby.
But there was someone else too. A warm, familiar face that he hadn’t expected to see.
Nino.
Nino was smiling at him. Just a patient, friendly smile.
Adrien hated it. And he hated that he didn’t know why.
Nino rested a hand on his shoulder, rubbing a thumb back and forth over his collarbone. He comforted him while he was fed, and all his vitals were checked. Then the doctor backed off.
“Hey bro, you look like death.” He said it with a laugh, trying to make a joke. To loosen him up as always. To bring laughter and happiness to his dull, gray, lonely life.
“I mean, you look better than when you were brought here. Got a little color in your cheeks. Well, your face in general, I can’t really see your cheeks.”
Right.
“Chloe really wanted to come, but your dad was afraid she would jump on you in her excitement.”
That was probably true. He didn’t really want to face Chloe right now anyway.
Nino swallowed thickly, and when he spoke, his voice was filled with emotion. “I really missed you, Adrien. You’re my best friend, my brother…the best person I know.” He sniffed. “I want you to be happy, you know? I want…to help you. And I’ll do anything for you. You know that, right?”
There was a tickle on the back on his head. A memory locked away that was demanding to be recalled. A moment on a rooftop, standing in the drizzling rain. Nino on the ground, terrified, staring up at him with nothing but fear.
“Hey, hey dude…come on man…you didn’t know.”
Shame. That’s what he felt. He had hurt his best friend, though he couldn’t remember the specifics. But why wouldn’t be feel shame? The whole world saw him naked, crawling on the ground, wallowing in his filth and crying crying crying…
Wasn’t Nino embarrassed by him? Wasn’t he disgusted? Everyone else was.
He had to be faking it. Cutting him off like he wanted to would make him feel too guilty. That had to be it.
Who would want to be friends with him?
Nino kept talking, but Adrien didn’t want to hear anymore. So he closed his eyes and pretended to fall asleep.
Eventually he left, by suggestion of the doctor, and the room went quiet.
Every once in a while, he’d hear the flip of a piece of paper, and the beep of a machine. Cracking one eye open, he saw his father reading a magazine. The lights were dimmed, and they were alone.
The doctor hadn’t put him back under for sedation.
Which meant he could finally rest without the jarring sensation of the scene changing every hour, but it also meant he had to fall asleep on his own. It also meant he had time to think. And only think.
His pain was low, but with each passing minute, it was starting to rise again.
It would be really nice to lay on his other side. Ugh, but he was too weak to even try.
God his throat was dry.
His father flipped another page. Why wouldn’t he just go home? Why was he here? Pretending to care?
A throat cleared, but it wasn’t Gabriel’s.
Adrien raised his eyes to the door, where a figure in black leather stood.
Adrien’s throat was already dry, and he almost gagged on his feeding tube.
“Relax, it’s just me.” Said the figure, becoming more visible.
Chat Noir had come to visit him.
Wait.
He rubbed his thumb over his ring finger, not feeling his Miraculous.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’m a hallucination born of a lot of pain meds and trauma. I don’t think the doc ever had a time to explain that to you.”
So he was crazy now?
“No, you’re not crazy. My visits will fade with time. But you have to talk somehow.”
To who? Himself?
“Yeah. Better than no one. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Why Chat? Why not regular Adrien? It’s because you don’t want to be Adrien right now.”
True.
“But Chat’s always been your creative outlet. Your source of bravery, your fun side. Maybe you’ll listen to me better.”
Listen to him? What did he have to listen to?
“Your attitude stinks,” Chat said fiercely. “How dare you. You should be glad they can’t see your facial expressions. Nino was so worried about you, and you tuned him out! Tom and Sabine? They took time away from their own daughter, who’s hurt just as bad as you are, to come see you and to love on you, and you doubted them! Your own father, who has never showed an ounce of care for you in years, is here, right here!” He gestured to the man who was oblivious to the exchange. “He’s left his house, he appeared in public, and he looks like a hobo! Because of you! I know this isn’t going to undo all those years of hurt, but you have to acknowledge him. It’s not fair to him, and it’s not fair to you if you don’t.”
And when he wasn’t dying in a hospital? When Gabriel decides everything is fine now, and turns back into a robot?
“Then that’s his problem. Then you can say ‘screw it’ and be with Marinette.” He took a few steps closer and loomed over him, threateningly. Though he was a hallucination, Adrien feared he might actually get hurt.
“More than anything, you need to apologize to Plagg.”
Plagg abandoned him. No matter how many times he called for him, he never came. Not in the darkest places, in the longest nights…
“He was asleep in the ring! You can’t blame him for that! Don’t you know how much he loves you? He’s been with you every moment since you got the ring. He’s your constant companion, and he knows how to make you feel better. Why would you push him away?”
He promised never to leave Adrien alone ever again.
“That wasn’t his fault. You know that. I’m right here, telling you. And I am you. That part of you that Salo tried so damn hard to stamp out. That part of you that loves unconditionally, that gives second chances to those that don’t deserve it. The part of you that made you worthy of the Miraculous.”
Well, Adrien was tired of that part of him. It only lead to trouble.
“Deny me all you want, but I’m the foundation to your very being. I’m not going anywhere. This is who you are, Adrien. Accept it, or spend the rest of your life in denial and misery.”
“Adrien?” The small, timid voice of Plagg spoke up. “Are you still awake?”
The kwami floated into his vision, his limbs limp, his ears drooped, and eyes downcast. “Listen…I know…I know you feel like…” He sighed, unable to find the words. Adrien knew he was always bad with feelings. “I love you, Adrien,” he said finally. “You’re my favorite holder I’ve ever had. I would never, ever intentionally abandon you. When Salo took off the ring…I felt ripped away from you. I felt it. It was the worst feeling ever. Then I was alone in the ring, waiting. I didn’t know if you were killed or—“ Fat tears fell from his eyes as he struggled to continue. “And then I woke up, and I found you…and you were in surgery and there was all that blood—“ he dissolved into quiet sobbing.
Maybe Chat Noir had a point. Maybe everyone was right. Even if the only person, or kwami, gunning for him was Plagg, he would be unstoppable.
It took great effort, but Adrien raised his hand and wrapped his fingers around Plagg’s small body, stroking his head with his thumb.
“Are…are you still mad at me? Wink once for yes, and twice for no.”
Wink wink.
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razorblade180 · 4 years
Text
Twin Snowflakes pt12: A Guest
“Nicholas? Niiiick? Nicky, wake up sweetie.” Said a voice called out through a void of darkness. It felt...familiar. He knew that voice. Where was he?
“Nick, open your eyes”
‘My...eyes were closed? How’d that happen? Last thing I remember was the exa-‘ the haze started to clear. ‘The exam! Val! Summer!’
The darkness slowly faded into light. Intense, blistering light. Nick felt his body began to move as if he was sitting up until a thump hit his head and felt himself fall back down on something soft. “Ow…” the hit felt like walking into a door. Nick’s vision finally cleared up and the first thing he saw was bright green eyes and orange hair right above him.
Nick:Penny?
Penny:Hello Nick. Your head okay? If I knew you were going to sit up so fast I would’ve made sure to move.
Nick:Talk about hard headed. Wait, if you’re here then am I in a lab?
Penny:No silly.
The girl helped Nick sit up; this time moving out the way. He was still in his clothes from earlier and the bed looked like it should be in a hospital. As well did the curtains around him. “Wait a second. I’m…” he pulled them away to see identical beds and a little office desk across the room. Each bed was empty but the one right next to him which held his sister. Summer looked at him a bit tired. Pillows propped her up and made leaning against the wall comfortable. A cup of half eaten yogurt was in her hands.
Nick:.....
Summer:What? Not used to being in the Nurse’s office? Count your lucky stars. That bed you’re in is the comfiest one.
Nick:I….you….what’s going on?
Penny:Simple! You passed out! Been that way for almost two hours.
Nick:Two hours!?
Summer:Why are you saying that like it’s a problem? That’s short, like incredibly short.
Nick:Not as short as yours apparently.
Summer:Well….Shiva has her benefits.
Just saying that made Summer a bit annoyed. She slumped down a little in her bed and stirred her yogurt.
Penny:Between genetics, aura, and some other factors, I’m not surprised you both are already awake from your triumphant battle!
Summer:(Wouldn’t be how I described it.)
Nick: Triumphant? We passed!?
Penny:With flying colors! I heard from Harriet as soon as she called me to treat the three of you. Needless to say, she was very impressed.
Nick:Speaking of three, where is Val?
Summer:She wasn’t as drained as us and bounced back pretty quick. She left as soon as she could move.
Nick:Aww, it would’ve been nice to celebrate together. I need to tell her thanks again since I begged her to help. Just like now I have to learn whatever song you have in store for me.
He gave a smile that made Summer a bit happy. A duet with him was something she was looking forward to, but it didn’t help her bruised self esteem. Summer gave Nick a fake smile to him before choosing to lay down. Her hair slightly hiding her face.
Nick didn’t fall for that cheap smile for a second, but he also knew now wasn’t the time to pressure her about it. If she was in a mood like this then he could only imagine what Val might be feeling. Hopefully she was fine.
Penny:Uhhh Nicholas? There’s something I’d like to ask you about. *pulls out scroll* Your match was recorded by multiple people and I saw something I found pretty interesting.
Nick:We got recorded? Honestly that shouldn’t surprise me.
Penny:The crowd was very energetic from the sound of it. Take a look.
A projection of the recording springs out of the scroll for a fuller view. Nick watched the playback of him and his team flipping around like some sort of acrobatic performance. The crowd seemed to love it though. Then came the part where Summer got hit. He looked at his sister who didn’t say anything about it. Then came Valerie’s defeat shortly after. His eyes studying the glyph he had made in order to summon the Gigas.
‘How’d I do that?’ He pondered quietly. Figuring out what he did differently this time from the others was going to be tough. The video continued until Penny paused it right where he was controlling ice blades that seemed to spin around him and obey his movements. A slight blush showing on his face appeared as Penny grinned happily at him.
Penny:They say imitation is the best form of flattery. Most of your moves are undeniably learned by your parents but I can’t help but think you had another inspiration in mind.
Nick:Hehe, I was panicking a bit in the end and all I could think about was overwhelming it with swords. Looks like I was influenced by you.
Penny:It has been quite some time since I’ve done any real fighting so I’m glad I left a strong impression from what you’ve seen. I would love to teach you some basics whenever you want.
Nick:Really? You’d train me a bit!?
Penny:Why of course! Lab work is important but it does get a little tedious and repetitive unfortunately. Teaching sounds like a splendid way to change up my routine.
Nick:I might take you up on that offer. Thanks Penny!
Penny:It is my pleasure! I enjoy supporting the two of you where I can. Oscar feels the same. I’m almost a little jealous about how much he praises your strength and conviction Summer.
Summer:He….thinks I’m strong?
Penny:He’s not the only one. Truly you are quite exceptional.
Nick:Yeah she is! She’s my sister after all. I can’t tell you how many times she’s kicked my butt.
Summer:....May we please have the room to ourselves Penny?
Penny:Huh? O...kay. Let me just-
Suddenly the nurse door flew open and hit the wall. “There you are Nicholas!” Everyone immediately turned around and saw Eliza standing with her hands on her hips and her eyes beaming angrily at her school president.
Nick:Why hello Mrs. Marigold. T-
Eliza:Cut the crap. You get the information for the play or what?
Summer:Play?
Nick:....Are you not aware I’ve been doing an exam?
Eliza:I’m aware that you got rag dolled by choice because of how impatient you are.
Penny:(But isn’t she acting the same?)
Nick:Listen it doesn’t even matter. I just told you all that stuff to get you off my back.
Eliza:You what!? But-
Nick:Relax. Have faith in your president. Isn’t that part of your job as secretary? Scrap the whole play idea; Summer agreed to a concert.
Summer:H-Hello…
Eliza:Wait, you’re actually going through with it? No flaking or half assing this time?
Summer:I wouldn’t do that for something so important. You...you have my word!
Eliza:Hmmmm
Nick:Can we have this discussion another time please?
Eliza:By another time do you mean doing what you want while the rest of us adapt? Fat chance! You do realize by not accurately informing me of your plan I’ve wasted precious time making a list of proper things we’ll need for nothing! What am I supposed to tell the other members!?
Summer:She has a point.
Penny:Indeed, you have possibly wasted resources.
Nick:This meeting was the other day. How much work could you have possibly-
Eliza chucks a scroll right at his face. Nick flinches in pain as the device hits his nose. He picks it up and to see a list of concepts Eliza had worked on. Then he scrolled down, and down, and down…..
He kept going for minutes until he eventually gave up on reaching the bottom. Nick could feel her stare on him.
Eliza:That much. That much work. Unlike you, I don’t get a slap on the rest or the luxury to slack of. I’m not a Schnee.
Nick:....
Summer:That’s..not fair. Nick does a lot for this-
Eliza:Your money and name does a lot for this school. Yes the two of you have gained achievements on your own right but out of fun or convenience. Not because you acted in the interest of the school. If you bothered to school let alone a meeting then you might notice these things; sending in your treasury report via Nicholas shows just how much you actually care.
Summer:I care...honestly.
Eliza:Then start acting like it!
Nick:Hey, don’t yell at my sister. I promise we will-
Eliza:To hell with your promises! Prove me wrong by keeping me in the loop. From here on out. The quality of your work is never the problem. I’m sure this concert idea will be amazing, but if you expect me to even show up to help set up or catch any mistake then you two will personally ask me. Because I’m not going to be proactively crossing your t’s or dotting your I’s. My time can be spent doing other things. Like making sure I get enough practice in to knock that royal bum of yours right out of the ring dear president.
The room fell silent with that declaration of war. Penny watched Nick stand from his bed then hand his challenger back her scroll. He didn’t look upset or exactly thrilled either as he stared up into Eliza’s golden eyes. He could tell that all that anger was mostly frustration and mostly exhaustion from the dark rings under her eyes. Even her signature pigtails were undone. ‘I’ve put you through the ringer huh?’ He thought, slightly guilty.
Nick:You got yourself a deal. Good luck with training. The jump from third place to second is steeper than you think.
Eliza:Guess I’ll overshoot and try getting to first. Be sure to protect that pretty face of yours. I might feel bad scaring it. I’m going home. *walking away*
Nick:Why were you even after school? You always get your work done.
Eliza:I thought that would be obvious. I heard an idiot in my grade had tried talking the expedited exam with two more idiots. Someone had to make sure their parents were informed in case of an emergency. Now go home and get some rest. Your sorry state is bad for morale. *leaves*
Penny:I probably shouldn’t say anything but by the time I’ve gotten here, Eliza had gathered whatever medical supplies I might’ve needed. As well as given me the recording. I think she might’ve been rooting for you three. Or at the very least wanted you to learn from this experience.
Nick:She wants no doubt in her mind if she manages to beat me. Or that’s what I think. She benefits from this tournament even more than us. It’s no mystery why she wants it perfect.
Summer:Then that lecture she gave makes her look like a hypocrite. So much for the pride of the school.
Nick:This school is probably more of a home than her actual home. Mr. Marigold never struck me as the nurturing type. I suppose that’s more reason why she’s so uptight.
Penny:You could stand to be more….aware. Spreading yourself then and tunnel visioning on problems not necessarily your concern tends to make you oblivious to simple solutions.
Nick:What? Not sure I quite understand.
Summer:(Of course you don’t…) Hey Nick…?
Nick:Yeah?
Summer:(Tell him...tell him the truth. He’s your twin for crying out loud. Just…) let’s go home. It’s only going to get colder and I wanna walk.
Nick:Alright. Let me just get my things.
Summer watches him gather his things quickly; ignoring any soreness he might have. A glance in Penny’s direction shows a similar expression of concern and sadness. She couldn’t tell who it was directed towards though.
Summer:(I’m so….)
Pathetic….
xxxx
“Maybe….if I told you then. Things would not have gotten so dire. My dear brother who would stop the world for me if need be. I should’ve let you into mine. Why didn’t I let you in?”
xxxx
It was the afternoon, the roads a little backed up from workers going home. Valerie looked at the busy traffic lights through the passenger window. Stewing in her thoughts.
Ren:You okay? Haven’t heard a peep from you since you got into the car.
Valerie:I’m fine.
Ren:Try again.
Valerie:I’m extremely upset.
Ren:There you go.
Valerie:Did you see the video?
Ren:I did. It looked intense.
Valerie:Then you saw how poorly I did?
Ren:I saw how much effort you put into it. That’s something to be proud of.
Valerie:I was a burden.
Ren:Without you then the battle would’ve been lost. Summer and Nicholas couldn’t have shined without you.
Valerie:We barely passed and the only one shining at the end was Nick while I played victim.
Ren:So are you mad about your performance or the fact Nick was the one who bailed you out? Not that there’s nothing wrong in basking in a bit of limelight.
Valerie:You know I don’t care about that sort of thing.
Ren:I know, winning is your motivation. So are friends, but your friend winning for you all has you upset?
Valerie:You make it sound so strange.
Ren:It is when you are a sports player that always plays support. Didn’t matter if it was soccer, hockey, or football. You took pride in defending your team so they can score. Even your semblance is remarkable for keeping any team you are on as strong as possible.
Valerie:This is different though.
Ren:Would you be saying that if Summer landed the final blow, or was the one saving you?
That struck a nerve. One she couldn’t deny but refused to admit. Valerie opted to ignore her father. A tactic that only proved him to be on the right track.
Ren:He’s gotten stronger, that Nicholas. These days you two seem more equal than ever besides height. I remember when-
Valerie:Dad, what are you doing? Just shoot straight with me please?
Ren:Don’t let whatever people might be saying at school tarnish your relationship with him. You should be happy seeing him get stronger and independent; willing to return any help you gave.
Valerie:People think he’s great enough as he is and always tell me how lucky I am to have him but it’s never the other way around. Him saving me is only going to make people talk more.
Ren:So you would rather get injured and be of no help to anyone than let Nick save you? Also, are you saying that you don’t feel lucky to have such a person in your life.
Valerie:Of course I’m lucky to have him! Nicholas is so kind and sweet. Not to mention grateful! Just before the exam he told me how lucky he was to have me in his life. There is no one else besides Summer, no, even Summer agrees that he should get nothing but the best in life. It doesn’t change the fact that it’s annoying how people see me as an accessory whenever we are together.
Ren:....
Valerie:*red* But not together, together.
Ren:I didn’t say anything. So, what you’re saying is you’re upset that him getting stronger would make you feel like what everyone says about you needing him true?
Valerie:Exactly. Which is why I can’t lose that tournament. Staying on top is too important.
Ren:If you say so.
Valerie:.....Why do I have a feeling you’re disappointed in me?
Ren:I’m not disappointed in you. I just hope you take more time to really evaluate what you’re implying and what it actually means. You owe that not just to yourself, but Summer and Nicholas as well.
Valerie:You can’t just tell me?
Ren:If I did then it wouldn’t stick. Just know Nicholas cares about from the bottom of his heart and sees your accomplishments as that, yours. I think that means more than what any gossip floating around your school means.
Valerie still didn’t get what exactly her father was trying to get at. Even so, she could feel her cheeks getting warm from his words. Nicholas caring about her wasn’t new information. It was what everyone knew since forever. Another piece of the problem. She would say it was terrible but it wasn’t. It was simply confusing, and she felt weird? That’s what it always came back to in the end. Thinking of him felt weird and confusing
Ren glanced over and saw his daughter in a clear state of not being at odds with herself. Making similar expressions that his wife did countless times thinking about him.
Ren:(You’ll figure it out. Hopefully)
xxxx
Summer and Nick didn’t speak much on the way home. The twins were too busy processing today’s events. They had accomplished their goal but the ending had soured their experience. Nick found himself with more work while Summer was sulking.
It wasn’t too long before they made it to the manor gate
Nick:Phew! I don’t know about you but I could use a hot shower.
Summer:Go right ahead. I might skip one tonight: not feeling up to it.
Nick:....Weren’t you going to tell me something before Eliza showed up? Now is the perfect time. I doubt mom and dad will just let us sneak to our rooms.
Summer:It’s alright. It wasn’t too important.
Nick:Summer you’re not, mad at me are you?
Summer:Huh? What makes you say that?
Nick:I don’t know. You’ve just felt distant lately. I figured I did something wrong.
Summer:No, just a little burnt out. It’s pretty frustrating to see you perform a full summoning. I'll admit that. It seems like I’m always just missing people’s expectations. If only I could’ve done just a bit more.
Nick:You know that win would’ve been impossible with you right? I used the ice you made and the arm you managed to cut off.
Summer:Capitalizing off my effort and actually pulling my weight are two different things Nick. If I won a match because you tossed me your sword, would you say you really helped?
Nick:Point taken. Still, it’s not like I knew exactly what I was doing. It sort of happened. I doubt I could do it again without training. Adrenaline won that match honestly. Like I said earlier, you’ve kicked me butt before. You’re stronger than you look.
Summer:Yeah well, I’m glad one of us thinks that.
Nick:Don’t be like that. I bet even Veronica would- uhhh Summer?
Summer:Did you realize you were about to say something incredibly wrong?
Nick:No, well a little. That’s not what stopped me though. Yang’s motorcycle is parked in front of the house.
He pointed through the gates and there it was, clear as day. Along with two helmets. One yellow, and the other black with yellow stripes. Summer felt a headache coming on.
Summer:Son of a-
Nick:It could be Blake!? Then again, she always grabs the purple hand black helmet. Also Vee did mention about aiding in tournament setup if she could.
Summer:You’re not helping. I’m sneaking through the back. Keep her distracted.
Nick:Don’t be like that. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen her. Besides, I bet she’s tired from her trip.
xxxx
Summer:.....
Nick:Well I’ve been wrong before. Heheheh..
The two stood in the living room and saw Veronica stretched out on their couch, watching the fight recording. Specifically the part when Summer gets sent flying. The two hear a subtle snort followed by chuckling and what sounds like a pencil scribbling away.
Veronica’s ears perk up and she turns around to see Nick who’s face palming and Summer clenching her fist.
Veronica:Well look who’s back? Hello Nicholas! *swaying tail*
Nick:Hey Vee.
Veronica:I see you’re looking just swell after an eventful day. *turns head* Summer….
Summer:Veronica…..
…..
Veronica:You ate shit today huh?
Nick:Sigh...
Summer:Couldn’t help yourself huh? Then again, self control isn’t really your style.
Veronica:I’m just not afraid to be direct unlike a certain pop star.
Summer:I also do alternative rock, some acoustic. I’m multi-talented like that.
Veronica:If you say so.
Summer:What’s that supposed to mean?
Three minutes in and already testing boundaries. Worst yet, Summer had folded her arms and took a stance that Ruby has once described to Nick as the “OG Weiss” mom was apparently a lot to deal with when Ruby first met her. The attitude Summer got around Veronica was pretty uncanny. Yang and Ruby’s words, not his.
He was thinking about nipping this in the bud but they both seemed to be too tired to actually get into it. Maybe the trip had wore Veronica down because she went back to playing the rest of the video and laying down and Summer walked off.
Summer:I’m going to shower.
Nick:I thought-
Summer:I’m going to shower Nicholas.
Nick:Take your time. I’ll wait.
Veronica:Aren’t there like five showers here?
Nick:They share water pressure. Did you really have to antagonize her like that? We’re having a bit of a rough day. A calm welcome would’ve been nice for once.
Veronica:*folds ears* My bad. I’ll hold my tongue next time, for you.
Nick:Will you?
Veronica:Do I ever lie to you?
Nick:Not that I know of. Wouldn’t see why you would though.
Veronica:Then you have your answer.
Nick:Good to see you’re still coy as ever. I’m gonna change into something comfy. Please have something different on the tv when I get back.
Veronica:Oookay. *smiles*
Nick:Nice outfit by the way. Purple looks good on you. *leaves*
Veronica:*red* Huh….guess mom was right. Geez, now I really have to be on my best behavior.
Part 11
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meta-squash · 3 years
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Brick Club 1.2.3 “The Heroism of Passive Obedience”
Apparently I had more observations about this chapter than I first thought.
Valjean enters the scene in Hugo’s usual way, as a mysterious man who is then revealed to be Valjean! Only this time, unlike the last chapter, Valjean introduces himself. But, the same as last time, his name is immediately connected to his criminal record; he says “My name is Jean Valjean. I was a convict.”
When Valjean learns that M. Myriel is not an innkeeper, but a priest, he seems surprised, both that he didn’t notice he was speaking to a priest and that Myriel doesn’t want his money. He gives a little bit of context to this surprise a moment later in this monologue:
“Because you’re an abbé, I want you to know, we have a chaplain in the galleys. And then one day I saw a bishop; Monseigneur, they called him. It was the Bishop of la Majore, from Marseilles. He’s the curé that’s over the other curés. You know--sorry--I say it so badly, but for me, it’s so far off! You know what we are. He said mass in the middle of the place on an altar; he had a pointed gold thing on his head. It shone in the sun. It was noon. We were lined up, on three sides. With guns and lighted matches in front of us. We couldn’t see him too well. He spoke to us, but he wasn’t near enough, we didn’t understand him. That’s what a bishop is.”
Valjean’s monologue serves two purposes here: as a continuation of G---’s monologue in 1.1.10, and as obvious and heavy-handed symbolism regarding religion’s (or religious dignitaries) treatment of people who are the lowest of the low.
Valjean first mentions that there was a chaplain in the prison. I’m sorry if I get this wrong, I grew up non-religious and my knowledge of Christianity is mostly confined to bible verses for literature classes, but as far as I can tell, a chaplain is kind of like a religious social worker for various industries. They’re just regular laypeople, rather than people with large responsibilities within the church; they’re basically the lowest rung of the church hierarchy. We know from later on that Valjean and religion don’t really mesh when he was incarcerated, so I imagine he didn’t really have much to do with the chaplain when he was in prison anyway.
All this means that a bishop is a very important person to regular parishioners, and some untouchable, strange, distant thing for prisoners (as Valjean says, “it’s so far off”).
This scene continues G---’s monologue about bishops, confirming that Myriel is an exception and again displaying bishops and other dignitaries of religion as men treated like princes, who use their money for their own good and act lavishly in the name of Jesus and are inaccessible to the common people. (Hugo certainly has Opinions about the church hierarchy.) The bishop Valjean saw was lifted up on an altar, wearing gold. What common man can relate to that? What prisoners can relate to that?
Valjean doesn’t really explain where he saw the bishop preach, but I imagine it was in either a church or a square somewhere, with many other civilians. Everyone else is free to surround the Bishop, to get up close and hear him speak. But the prisoners are not only kept far back, they’re also threatened with readied guns.
It’s a threat, and also a message: “You can have a glimpse of religion, but you can’t have it like everyone else. This man will never speak to you as he speaks to his parishioners, and you will never be able to hear the word of god as these civilians do.”
Valjean says “he spoke to us,” but the bishop wasn’t speaking to the prisoners. The bishop was speaking, but the prisoners were just there. You cannot speak to people who cannot hear you. The bishop was not near enough, and the prisoners couldn’t hear him.
This is a pretty obviously heavy-handed metaphor on Hugo’s part, but it works. Religion cannot reach those that it refuses to meet on equal footing. Valjean and his fellow prisoners didn’t reject religion because they were sinners or heretics; they rejected religion because it was inaccessible, because they had no way of identifying with or connecting with a man in gold on an altar high above them, preaching words they could not hear about a morality they couldn’t believe in because their conditions were the exact opposite of that morality. It is only when M. Myriel meets Valjean on equal footing, treats him like a human being, treats him with respect, that his view on religion begins to change.
And that treatment by Myriel continues with Myriel not only calling him “monsieur,” but also asking him to tell his story, feeding him a real meal, and treating him as a guest in his house. I do think that Valjean being able to talk about his experiences with someone who treats him kindly is very important; it’s literally the only time he speaks to someone about his prison experiences until the end of the novel. (I don’t think his lecture to Montparnasse counts, as Montparnasse clearly was not very receptive.) So his ability to tell someone about what he’s been through and have a verbal confirmation from someone else that he has “suffered a great deal” is really important.
Also, the way that Valjean rambles in this chapter, as if he hasn’t spoken to anyone interested in listening to him in a very very long time, reminds me of the way Eponine rambles to Marius. They both chatter on, telling their listener random pieces of information that the person probably doesn’t need to know, and asking multiple questions in a row before moving on to make more comments without waiting for the other person to give a real response. Post-prison Valjean is probably the most talkative, and has the longest spoken monologues until the very end of the book; between these moments with Myriel and the monologues to Marius and Cosette at the end, most other “monologues” by Valjean are narrated by Hugo as internal thoughts rather than spoken aloud. I’m not really sure what to make of the rambling at beginning and end with reticence in the middle. It’s just interesting to note how talkative Valjean is here and then at the end of his life, and he says so little in between.
Here, also, is the moment Myriel kind of reveals the two choices Valjean has in terms of a reaction to his incarceration:
“But listen, there will be more joy in heaven over the tears of a repentant sinner than over the white robes of a hundred just men. If you are leaving that sad place with hatred and anger against men, you deserve compassion; if you leave it with good will, gentleness, and peace, you are better than any of us.”
In the next chapter, we get Mlle. Baptistine’s point of view of the dinner table conversation, and she points out that Myriel doesn’t attempt to preach to Valjean. I think the above moment is the only moment of preaching, and it’s interesting that it’s not included in Baptistine’s POV. Instead, we have this very brief instance of preaching (or something akin to preaching), where Myriel presents Valjean with two choices: allow the trauma and pain to consume you and fill your heart with hatred, or turn to religion and god and turn your suffering into good will. If Valjean, a sinner, chooses repentance and turns his trauma and pain into gentleness and good will, he will be more respectful and more good than any priest.
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lovemesomerafael · 4 years
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Destroying the Planet to Save It    Chapter 1:  Impure Thoughts
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There’s a new threat to the world, and The Avengers join the new S.H.I.E.L.D. to find and fight it.  Captain America, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Agent Phil Coulson, Sharon Carter, some OCs.  Canon?  What canon?  After Civil War, but before any of the travesties of Infinity War or Endgame.   Action, hopefully humor, smut, language your mama would slap clean out your mouth, fluff.  IDK, I just watch the story develop as my fingers write it.  I get surprised a lot.
_______________________________
“Seriously?  This is what we’re doing now?”  Sam Wilson growled.  “We’ve saved the world how many times?  And tonight they got us workin’ as what, bouncers?  Security guards?”
Bucky Barnes looked around the massive hotel ballroom with a shrug. “Well, it is the President.”
“He got his own damned guards!  Why are they not handlin’ their shit?  Ain’t that what the taxpayers are paying them for?”  Sam was hissing in Bucky’s ear, and in the ears of the rest of the Avengers team scattered throughout the huge, crowded room wearing comm devices that looked like those used by the Secret Service, but were fortunately not patched into their frequency.  
Steve Rogers knew some of those Secret Service guys, and they were not only tough as hell but damn proud of what they did.  Sam would be wise not to piss them off.
“That’s enough, Falcon,” he muttered from where he stood in a narrow hallway outside the ballroom, watching the President roll his eyes as his staff tried to prepare him for a speech he could give in his sleep. He’d already seen the guy stare down a woman who tried to get him to let her powder his nose.  Steve thought he might kinda like this President.  Not like the last douchebag.
In the ballroom, standing in front of the dais looking out at the crowd and trying not to attract attention, Bucky smirked at Sam. “I don’t know.  It’s not so bad.  It’s probably just terrorists.  Won’t that be a nice break from, like, mad scientists and aliens and shit?  Besides, c’mon.  You know you’re havin’ impure thoughts about me in this tux.”  
Sam gave him a quick sneer.  “Dude, you need a new mirror.”
“Barnes,” Clint Barton’s voice came over the comms.  “President Lattimore is fifteen seconds out from the East entrance.”
“Copy,” Bucky murmured.  Now it was Sam’s turn to smirk.  
“Fuck you,” Bucky growled at Sam as he began to walk – if big, sleek cats looking for trouble can be said to just “walk” - across to the large expanse of doors on the East side of the ballroom.  All were locked except for the center doors, allowing the security teams to control access to the room and monitor the entrances of dignitaries. Bucky had drawn the short straw and been assigned to the former President from Alabama, a guy so grandiose with a manner so smarmy yet chill-inducing that Bucky could only hope he didn’t slip and call him Palpatine to his face.  
There was a Secret Service agent in front of each of the eight doors on this side of the room.  Bucky knew that there were also agents on the other side of each door.  The center door was the only one with more than one guard, and Bucky knew that Natasha Romanoff was on the other side. She’d been assigned the very delicate task of making sure each and every person who went through that door – security guard, celebrity, Senator, foreign dignitary, or former American President – got searched, and searched well.  Although Natasha didn’t agree, Bucky was pretty sure she’d drawn the really short straw.
At the door through which former President Lattimore would be entering, Bucky knew he’d be met by his counterpart, the Secret Service agent assigned to shadow former President Lattimore while he was in the ballroom. He looked at the series of tuxedoed men with serious expressions and fairly obvious earpieces standing stiffly at the door, wondering which one that would turn out to be.  
As he took his place to one side of the door, he exchanged nods with the senior agent who’d been working with the Avengers to plan security for this event.  The senior agent then turned his glance to a woman Bucky hadn’t even noticed, and the two greeted each other quietly.  A ghost of a smile played across her lips as she took her place across from Bucky.
He tried his damnedest to have no expression on his face.  This was his Secret Service counterpart?  She looked tiny to him.  She wasn’t – she was at least five-foot-six and was in no way a waif – but he’d been expecting someone… bigger.  In his heart of hearts, he knew he’d been expecting a burly man, but he tried not to acknowledge that thought to himself, lest it show on his face.  The last thing he wanted was another lecture from Natasha about his dinosaur tendencies.  
“Joss Emerson,” she said in a voice that was surprisingly low and smooth.
“Bucky Barnes.”
She almost laughed.  “Yeah. I know.”  
OK, so there were actually lunchboxes with his face on them, but no matter how insanely well-known the Avengers had become, Bucky could never imagine just assuming that people knew who he was.  He didn’t have time to feel awkward, though, because at that moment, a spotlight shone on the door and someone on the dais announced into the microphone that former President Lattimore was arriving.  The door opened and the man ponced into the room to the recorded strains of some campaign song or another, Bucky didn’t know, all modern music sounded the same to him.  Lattimore flashed his unnaturally white, uncle-who-hugs-too-long simper, waving as enthusiastically as if the scattered applause was a standing ovation.  Bucky thought he seemed a little disappointed in its volume, and he was undeniably unhappy when the spotlight turned off seconds after he entered.  
Fortunately for his ego, Lattimore was immediately greeted by a number of people who seemed thrilled to be seen with him.  Already Bucky was fighting the urge to place himself between his objective and the group of fawning, salivating morons draping themselves over him as one of the many photographers wandering the ballroom captured the moment.  He glanced over at Agent Emerson, who didn’t seem even a little bothered.  She clearly knew who these people were.  Her eyes were everywhere else.  Bucky sighed.  It was gonna be a long night.
*****
None of the Avengers wanted to be here.  Only a few even believed there was a credible threat. The problem was, those who did believe there was a credible threat – Steve, Bruce Banner, and Tony Stark – outweighed the rest of the team.  They’d been among the ones called to Washington, D.C. to a very secret meeting with the President and several members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Phil Coulson, Director of the new S.H.I.E.L.D. had been there, as well, and they’d all been convinced by what they’d seen.
Something was going on.  Strange energy signatures had been detected in various places around the Earth, and in each of those places, cataclysmic events had occurred.  The events seemed to be natural phenomena – earthquakes, hurricanes, massive wildfires – but it was far too much of a coincidence.  
And then there was this guy Arias.  Jarman Arias, mouthy Colombian dickweed with enough money to make even Tony Stark raise an eyebrow.  Coulson and S.H.I.E.L.D. had found what could be interpreted as his fingerprints on several of the incidents. Faint and plausibly deniable, but there. 
After that meeting, when S.H.I.E.L.D. had agreed to investigate the incidents and Steve had agreed that the Avengers would take this assignment, the Avengers team had been working with the Secret Service to prepare for this night.  It was a great opportunity for S.H.I.E.L.D. to observe Arias, but that wasn’t the Avengers’ mission.  Their mission was to make sure that having Arias in the same room with the President, the former President, and a whole lot of other powerful notables didn’t turn out to be a Very. Bad. Idea.  
*****
Sam was assigned to Arias, who arrived a few minutes after President Lattimore.  He, too, had a counterpart, but she wasn’t Secret Service, she was S.H.I.E.L.D.  He’d met her before, and admired her sleek, Latina looks, but something about the way she seemed to look right through him had made him hesitant to make a move.  Tonight seemed like a good opportunity, and he liked what he was seeing so far.
Arias had his own security team, known to be very lethal and not overly concerned about legality or collateral damage.  He didn’t want or need more security, and he definitely objected to having people he didn’t know close to him.  But Anita Herrera was good.  
“Señor Arias, no one’s questioning your security team,” she assured him in musical Spanish.  She actually didn’t have a Colombian accent – she was Cuban – but anyone listening to her right now would swear she was born and raised in Bogotá.  “But the President has asked that we take special care of you. This event is important to him, so important that he’s actually asked The Avengers to provide security for his most important guests, although we’re keeping that quiet.  You won’t mind being seen to be guarded by the Falcon himself, will you?”
Sam wanted to punch the guy in the throat merely for getting to be the target of Herrera’s smile.  Damn.  She was something.  
And Arias, like many a man before him, made his ego-driven decision with the other head.  “Of course, Agent Herrera.  When you put it that way.”
Sam tried his best to give Agent Herrera a very professional, not at all aroused, nod of the head.  It mostly worked.  But when she gave him a taste of that smile, Sam suddenly got very interested in the logistics of getting Arias into the ballroom and where he would be seated, because there was only so much room in the slacks of his expertly-tailored tuxedo.
*****
At that moment, Bucky was listening to former President Lattimore (whom he knew for a fact had been called Voldemort by his Secret Service detail behind his back) making inappropriate comments to Agent Emerson.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Joss, and you’re looking just as lovely as ever.  I’ll never know where you hide firearms under those dresses.”  Bucky flicked a glance at Lattimore just in time to see the lecherous gleam in his eye as he gave Emerson a very thorough once-over.
Her voice was professional as she responded, “Not your problem, Sir. As long as I know where they are.”
In fact, Bucky did know where Emerson hid at least one firearm under her dress, and he’d counted three knives so far.  Five, if you counted the heels on her shoes, which he’d bet his new SOG tac knife were not standard issue.  Bucky knew fuck-all about women’s dresses, but he knew what he liked.  Her black dress had long sleeves (two knives) and fitted the upper part of her body very nicely (third knife between her breasts, but it wasn’t like he’d been looking).  Bucky really appreciated the way the soft material clung to her, even as he appreciated that it was stretchy enough to let her move however she needed to.  The skirt had a slit up to there, which would allow her to run even though the dress was long enough to touch the floor. It didn’t flash the entire length of her right leg quite often enough for his taste, but did give him a pretty good idea where he’d find her gun.  And the dress had cutouts on either side of her waist, which gave him a tantalizing view of a body built for more than looks.  The cutouts also gave him a clue where he might find a few more weapons.  You know, if he went looking.  
“I don’t know how a girl like you decides to be a Secret Service agent, but I suppose I shouldn’t question my good fortune.”  Lattimore leaned toward Emerson, who was only looking at him every few seconds, scanning the room the rest of the time.  His voice got even oilier as he murmured, “You know, my offer still stands.  I still have a little pull around here.”  His self-deprecating laugh didn’t fool Bucky for a second.  
“Thank you, Sir.  I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
“The First Lady isn’t the jealous type, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“No, Sir.  Mrs. Lattimore is a lovely woman.”
“So are you, Joss.  I’d love to have you on my personal detail.”
Was that a little bit of drool Bucky caught on the edge of Lattimore’s lips?  What a tool.  Bucky may have been born in 1917, but even he knew that modern women didn’t have to put up with this shit.  He wondered why Emerson did.  Especially when, the more Bucky studied her without meaning to, it was obvious she was a pro at what she did.  Her wary, tensed body language didn’t change – she was coiled and ready for trouble, if it came – even as this ancient, slimy dillrod talked to her like she was just another sycophant and not a highly-trained professional there to protect his randy old goat ass.
An overdressed couple approached the former President then and engaged him in a round of overheated reciprocal compliments.  Bucky stopped listening to the mutual masturbation and took a sideways step toward Agent Emerson, all the while keeping his eyes and his full awareness on everything happening in the room.  
“Why do I feel like I should apologize for that asshole?”  He muttered out the side of his mouth, his voice pitched so only she could hear.  
“Don’t worry about it,” she muttered back.
“He always like that?”
“Pretty much.  He made that gun comment every day for four years.”
“Huh.  Not very observant, then.”
“Not his job.”  Then, from the corner of his eye, Bucky saw her give a little delayed shake.  “Wait.  What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothin’.”
“Uh-huh. You realize if you tell me you know where my guns are, that’s just the other side of the same coin.”
Bucky hadn’t realized that, but he did now.  Bucky Barnes hadn’t blushed since 1943, and he didn’t at that moment, but he was embarrassed.  Which meant he immediately started to talk too much.  “No.  My admiration is purely professional.  I – Wait, guns?  As in, more than one?”
She didn’t answer, just smirked.  For a while, they stood behind and to either side of the former President, just observing.  
He tried.  He really did.  But Bucky couldn’t help himself.  “How many?”
He caught the little twist of her lips at that.  “Kind of a personal question, isn’t it?”
“I’ll tell if you do.”
“You don’t have to tell me how many guns you’re packing, Barnes.   Five.  And at least four knives, although it’s probably more.”
“You’re right.  Five guns. Seven knives.  Your turn.”
She huffed a tiny sigh, but he could tell it was for show.  “On me?  Two guns.  A few others around the room.”
Bucky couldn’t hide his smile.  He liked girls.  He really liked guns.  And he really, really liked girls with guns.
“And knives?”
“Five on me.  Lots more stashed.”
Through Bucky’s earpiece, he heard Clint Barton’s voice again. “OK, if Barnes can keep it in his pants long enough, the President’s arriving in five.  They’re gonna seat everyone.”
Bucky had actually forgotten that every word he said was being broadcast to the rest of his team.  Oops.  Still, it was nowhere close to the first time one of them had said something on the comms that the rest of the team didn’t need to hear.  It wasn’t even uncommon for one of them to be overheard flirting.  And Sam once got… well, Bucky needed to focus.
He saw in the slight flinch Agent Emerson gave that she was getting the same message in her earpiece.  She stepped up to President Lattimore and quietly interrupted his gladhanding to let him know it was time to be seated.  
As they followed him to his table, Bucky and Agent Emerson found themselves walking next to one another.  
“I thought I was gonna hate this assignment,” Bucky whispered to her.  “But I’m kinda digging the whole James Bond thing.”
“Yeah, you’re so not James Bond.”
“I’m literally wearing a tuxedo!”
“Call me when you’re British,” she mumbled and stepped to the other side of Lattimore as he seated himself at his prominently-situated table. When he was settled, with Emerson seated next to him on his right, Bucky stood behind them until everyone else was seated, then stalked to stand at the side of the room, relieved that the uncontrolled, social part of the event was over.  
*****
Now it was Steve’s turn.  He and Tony Stark were both simply too well-known to even try to blend in with the Secret Service.  So, in his role as one of the President’s honored guests, he was wearing a suit that cost as much as the apartment building he’d grown up in, feeling much more naked than he did in his extremely form-fitting Captain America suit.  He knew exactly where his shield was, but it wasn’t on his back or his arm, and without it he felt woefully unarmed even though he was, in fact, carrying several weapons.  He fidgeted through the last half-minute before he and the rest of the President’s entourage would make their way to the East doors of the ballroom where the President would make his entrance.  
Tony was already seated at the President’s table with Pepper. Sharon Carter, as Steve’s date, was on his other side.  Tony was in his element.  In fact, he’d already made a billion-dollar handshake deal with one of the Joint Chiefs before he’d finished his first drink.  But his cool was deceptive.  He used his always-manic energy to camouflage a wired vigilance that missed nothing.  Sharon, too, was all eyes and ears and taut alertness.
The lights dimmed.  “Ruffles and Flourishes” started to pour out from the sound system and Tony knew that Clint was, at that moment, climbing through the ceiling to his well-stocked sniper’s nest over the dais, hidden by what looked like any other set of stage curtains but were, in fact, made of a fabric as bulletproof as fabric could be and manufactured by Stark Industries.  
The spotlight shone on the door, which opened just as the sound system began to play “Hail To The Chief.”  Not one of the Avengers was looking at the President as he entered with the First Lady, waving and smiling to the clapping crowd.  They were watching everyone else look at the President.
“Fuck’s sake, Steve,” Sam’s voice came over the comms.  “Smile.  You’re supposed to be having a good time.  You look like your underwear’s too tight.”
The quiet chuckles of the rest of the team filtered through their earpieces, while Steve’s expression became even more sour and his face flushed a bright shade of crimson that wasn’t entirely washed out by the spotlight that followed the President to his table.
Once he sat down next to Sharon, Steve couldn’t help but feel beneath the tablecloth to make sure his shield was right where it was supposed to be, secured to the underside of the table in a quick-release frame.  
“You all right?”  Sharon asked quietly.
“I hate this,” Steve hissed through a fake smile that looked more like he was trying to hold in a fart.  
Once the President was seated, a comedian walked out onto the dais and began a monologue filled with references to current culture that, apparently, everyone but Steve and Bucky found hilarious.  They could all hear muffled laughs through the comms.  Tony’s laughter was the most prevalent, because he was basically watching two shows.  He found Steve’s obvious unfamiliarity with them funnier than the references themselves.  
“Eyes on the ball, Ironman,” Steve grunted at one point, not enjoying this moment any more than he was enjoying the rest of the night.  Tony just laughed louder.
*****
The President never got to make his speech.  Bruce Banner, monitoring a Times Square worth of screens and flashing readouts in a much smaller conference room on the same floor as the ballroom, saw the spike immediately.  It was the same strange energy signature that they’d been seeing around the world, which had preceded a “natural” disaster each time.
“Alert, alert, alert,” Bruce’s strangely emotionless voice came through their comms.  “I got a spike.  Repeat, I’m seeing a spike.  Get ‘em out.”
The comedian actually made one more joke before he noticed the quiet but fiercely determined way the cadre of athletic individuals dressed in black who had been lining the walls began to make their way to those they were assigned to protect.
Steve pulled his shield from its holder and held the President between it and himself as he, Tony, and a fleet of Secret Service agents carried him out on a wave of dark clothing and suddenly visible firepower.
 Bucky had President Lattimore out of his chair before Agent Emerson had even finished freeing her MP5 from the underside of the table.  Sandwiched between Emerson in front and Bucky in back, and surrounded by members of his usual Secret Service detail, Lattimore squawked and whined the whole way to the East Entrance.  
 Sam wasn’t as surprised as he might have been to find that Arias refused to leave the ballroom.  
“I am not a politician, and I am not a coward.  I’ll stay right here and finish this excellent brandy,” Arias purred.  
“Sir, for your own safety, I really must insist-“
“Sit down, Mr. Wilson.  Whatever’s going on, I can assure you we are not its targets.”
“Yeah, well, if it’s a bomb, that’s gonna be surprisingly non-comforting,” Sam growled.  “I mean it. Get up now.  I’m not asking.”
Jarman Arias was not used to being spoken to in any tone that wasn’t at least impressed, and usually closer to awe tinged with fear.  He was definitely not used to Sam’s Master Sergeant Wilson voice.  Like everyone else, his first instinct was to obey.  
 The Secret Service may have been exchanging confused and chaotic chatter, but there was no chatter at all on the Avengers’ comms.  They all knew where they needed to go.
Steve wasn’t very comfortable with the idea of the team of decoys who met them in the hotel’s kitchens and made a noisy show of hustling some random dude out of the hotel and into the President’s limousine.  But he let it go as he led the real President down a cluttered hallway with a tiled floor to a stairway that led to a delivery entrance. Natasha and Clint met them at the bottom of the stairs wearing beige coveralls bearing the logo of a large commercial food distributor on the back.  They silently handed coveralls to the President and each of the team, and the entire group quickly zipped them on.  When they were done, half of them – including the President - also slipped baseball hats on and they sauntered out the door across a ten-foot expanse of concrete into the back of a large panel truck.  
Inside the truck, they met Bucky and his team with the former President, who was red-faced but had stopped complaining as Agent Emerson sweet-talked him.  Steve could tell with a glance that Bucky hated the guy even more now than he had when he’d learned that’s who he was assigned to protect.  He grinned at Bucky and got an annoyed eyeroll in response.  
Clint pulled the rolling door closed on the panel truck and dim red lighting illuminated the cargo area as they all grabbed on to handholds along the walls.  
“AK is secure,” Steve said as the truck began to move.  “Leaving the hotel now.”
“Roger, Cap.  See you in a few.”  Phil Coulson sounded as though he was sitting in a lounge chair with a Mai Tai rather than directing a major op from a couple hundred miles away.  
*****
Jarman Arias recovered fairly quickly from the Master Sergeant Wilson treatment, and was fairly put out by being rushed to his limo.  Sam didn’t give a fuck.  He was moving, and that was all that mattered.  
Unlike the rest of the team, Sam and Agent Herrera didn’t know where they were going.  Part of their mission was to see how Arias would react if, in fact, the mysterious energy was detected around this event.  If it turned out that Arias was linked to the energy and the events that seemed to follow, his reactions  could be very telling.  Still, Sam had a role to play.  If he was just another bodyguard – a vastly overqualified bodyguard who was way too fucking pretty to be someone’s flunky, he thought to himself – he would have tried to get his principal out of the area of danger.  So that’s what he had to do.  
But Arias wasn’t happy about it.  In fact, if Sam had to guess, he’d say that what he was seeing was fear.  But it wasn’t from whatever the threat at the massive hotel had been.  Arias had been perfectly happy to chill in the ballroom while the rest of the crowd screamed and yelled, tipping over chairs and smashing glassware in their hurry to get out once the dignitaries started being evacuated.
“Just where do you suggest we go?”  Arias growled in his accented English as his limo squealed away from the curb.
“I don’t care, man, just away from here.”
“Why?  What is the threat?”
“I don’t know,” Sam admitted, having difficulty trying to straighten his tux, squeezed as he was between two of Arias’s goons in the backward-facing seat across from Arias, Herrera and two more goons.  “I get the signal to fuck off, I fuck off.  And since I’m responsible for your safety, you fuck off with me.”
“Fine.”  Arias picked up a phone receiver that was set in the rear window console behind him.  “Alejandro, Site B, please.  Quickly,” he said in Spanish, then hung up the phone.
Agent Herrera blinked.  In English for Sam’s benefit, she asked, “What’s Site B?”
Suddenly, Sam’s face went slack and he uttered a soft, drawn out, “Fuck me.”
Agent Herrera must have been getting the same message in her earpiece from the Secret Service that Sam had just received from Natasha.
“How is that even possible?”  Sam shrieked.
“Don’t ask me,” Natasha’s voice came to his ear.  “I’m just telling you what Clint’s telling me he sees.  The biggest motherfucking tornado he’s ever heard of.  And Clint’s from Iowa.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hey, you guys, please let me know you’ve been by if you read this.  I have kind of an optimistic plan for this story and it helps me feel inspired if I know someone besides me is reading it!  :)  
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0nlywateristheriver · 4 years
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Closed Starter for @onlywateristheriver
Link to story with original pictures: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1JpiqYUK-rcVn49Ub3ehwMvHP6dX3S7GFetgKAZEas4g/edit?usp=sharing
@shesxinxcharge
shesxinxcharge
Jane’s coat swished softly as she walked along the street to her flat, taking her time as she headed home from a long day of teaching physics at university, she loved what she did but she found it rather dull at times , wishing for a chance to get out and have an adventure. She was lost in her thoughts about going on an adventure that she didn’t see where she was going and walked straight into another woman, the papers in her bag scattering everywhere as it fell to the ground along with Jane. 
onlywateristheriver
River’s mobile chirped at her, letting her know she only had two minutes to get to the lecture hall. She picked up the pace and looked down in her bag to find the schedule the Dean had given her. She was here for a month as a part of their guest lecture series on archaeology and she wanted to double check that this was the lecture for the graduate students. Her schedule was packed with lectures to both graduates and undergraduates and it wouldn’t do to talk down to a room full of Master’s degree students. 
She saw the woman out of the corner of her eye a moment before they made contact. She tried to scoot to the side, but the sidewalk was narrow. The woman in front of her looked like she fell hard on the pavement, her papers scattering everywhere.
“Oh, I’m SO sorry. Are you okay?”
shesxinxcharge
Jane rubbed her back as she sat herself up , feeling a slight twinge in her tailbone. Looking up at the woman , she smiled and nodded her in the affirmative that she was okay.
“My fault , my head was off in the stars, I didn’t even see you coming. I’m fine i believe, just a little sore but that’s mostly my pride from falling on my backside.”
She scooped up her papers as quickly as she could, stuffing them back into her bag. 
“I uh , I’m Jane by the way. “ She said holding her hand out to the stranger .
onlywateristheriver
Being on time warred with wanting to indulge in pleasantries. And the woman in front of her would definitely qualify as a pleasantry! She bit at her lip and did a mental route check. She really would have to rush off.
She shook the hand that was offered her. “Professor River Song. I’m here for the month lecturing on archaeology. I’m really sorry, but I’m late for a lecture and I have to run.”
She began walking backwards. “I’m glad you’re alright and I really hope we bump into one another again while I’m here. Perhaps not literally next time?”
shesxinxcharge
Shaking River’s hand, she smiled brightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you and yes lets hope its not literally next time.” 
Jane stood up and brushed herself down her skirt as she watched River run off towards the lecture hall. She had a strange feeling that she had met the woman before but she just couldn’t place where. Making sure all her files were back in her bag she found her feet heading towards the lecture hall instead of towards her flat, deciding that she wanted to see this woman again sooner rather than later. 
Heading into the lecture hall, Jane stepped in silently, taking a seat at the back of the room  to watch the lecture.
onlywateristheriver
River smiled as one of the students remarked that it felt like she was giving a first hand account of what life was like as part of a Roman legion. Oh, if only they knew. She was distracted for a moment by a latecomer. She frowned. Tardiness had to be noted on the attendance sheet. She looked to the back of the room and saw the woman she’d bumped into, literally. She was surprised, but not unpleased. She gave a small smile and continued with her lecture.
When she was finished, she stayed at the front of the lecture hall, answering individual questions from the students. She kept glancing to the back of the room to see if the woman was still there, but there were too many students in the way.
shesxinxcharge
Jane sat through the lecture , thoroughly enjoying it which was a surprise as she didn’t normally enjoy archaeology , even with her doing History lectures part of the time, she just struggled to listen at times. 
Once the class was over, Jane stayed back until the group of students had thinned a little, really just enough so that she was able to actually see River Song. She waited patiently until the group of students had thinned out and she was able to see River properly which was when she walked straight up to River.  “That was a very interesting lecture.” 
onlywateristheriver
As the students began to leave, River could see that the woman was still there. ‘Is she as intrigued with me?’ River thought to herself. It pleased her to think she’d made an impression after only a few minutes, otherwise the chances of them meeting again on a campus this size were remote, and she <i>did</i> want to get to know this woman better. She’d been alone for too long now.
River was delighted when the woman actually came up to talk to her. “Thank you so much. It’s my first one here. I must admit, it’s been a while since I’ve stayed in one place long enough to take on a visiting professorship. Do you think, maybe you could show me around while I’m here?” 
shesxinxcharge
Jane broke out into a bright smile and nodded in agreement. “I would happily show you around, I’ve been here a little over a year now myself so I have found a few neat little places i can show you. Oh  but firstly, let me introduce myself properly, I’m Professor Jane Smith, I teach Physics and sometimes History when I feel like it, that is.”
“Now, what would you like to see as I have some free time to show you around if you like?”
onlywateristheriver
River couldn’t help but smile in return. Jane’s smile was so bright and welcoming.
“Well, it’s just about lunch time, isn’t it? What’s good to eat around here?
shesxinxcharge
“Lunch sounds like an excellent plan and I know just the place, there is a little cafe on the edge of campus that does the best fish and chips I have ever tried, How does that sound to you ?” 
Jane asked as she slung her own bag over her shoulder, waiting patiently for a response.
onlywateristheriver
“Ooooo, I haven’t had fish and chips in ages.” 
River looked around to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. “Shall we go?” 
shesxinxcharge
“Absolutely My Dear, Allons-y.” She said with a bright smile as she led River out of the lecture hall and onto a familiar well worn pathway, where she fell into step with her.
“So what brought you here, to this University, River?”
onlywateristheriver
“I’m here in between archaeological excursions,” River said distractedly.
She grasped Jane’s arm and brought them both to a stop. “Why did you say that a moment ago?”
shesxinxcharge
Jane chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. “Say what? Did I say something weird, weird words like to come out of my mouth at odd times I must admit.”
onlywateristheriver
“It’s just that I had a friend once who used to say Allons-y. It was very distinctive. I’ve never heard anyone else say it before.” River was lost in thought for a moment.
“I’m sorry. I interrupted us. We were going to go to lunch. Fish and chips.” She smiled.
shesxinxcharge
Jane frowned and shook her head as an image flashed in her brain of a man saying that word before it quickly disappeared again. “Oh, Well that’s understandable, I myself picked it up when I was in France on a trip, it’s just a word that got stuck in my brain and I have been using it ever since.”
She smiled brightly and shook her head again. “It’s not a problem, it makes me happy to know I am not the only one who says it outside of France, I thought I was just being weirder than normal. But yes, Fish and chips, come on, I’m buying.” She said as she started to walk off in the direction of the cafe, looking back to make sure River was keeping up with her.
onlywateristheriver
“Weirder than normal? I don’t find you weird at all. Who says that you are? I’ll have a word with them.”
shesxinxcharge
Jane shrugged and shook her head. “Don’t worry , it’s just something I have heard frequently throughout my life but I just embrace it now, I mean what’s the point in being an adult if you can’t act a little weird and silly at times. Besides we have arrived at our destination so instead how about we enjoy some delicious fish and chips.” She pushed open the door, letting River enter before her.
onlywateristheriver
“Why thank you madam.” River smiled and walked through the door and then turned back to Jane. “Table or booth?”
shesxinxcharge
Jane chuckled softly and followed River in, her eyes landing on a booth in the back of the cafe that would be perfect. 
“Booth, they are much more comfortable than sitting at the tables, how about you go and sit in the booth at the back and I will go and order for us, you’re okay with just the normal fish and chips combo right? Or is there something else you want?”
onlywateristheriver
“Fish and chips are great.” River smiled and started to dig through her bag. “How much are they?”
shesxinxcharge
Jane put her hand on the back of River’s hand to still her from searching for her wallet, her fingers tingling at the touch.
“Nothing, I said I was going to pay so you don’t need to worry about the cost, did you want something to drink as well?” She asked with a bright smile.
onlywateristheriver
“I’ll just have some water, please.”
“So if you’re buying my lunch does that make this a date?” River teased.
shesxinxcharge
Jane grinned and shrugged her shoulders. “It can be if you want it to be River…”
She winked at River before walking off to order and pay for their food, coming back a few minutes later with a place number and a couple of bottles of soda.
“Did you decide on whether you want this to be a date?”
onlywateristheriver
River looked over at Jane. “I’m only supposed to be here for a month and then I’ll probably be moving very far away.” She fiddled with the label on her soda bottle. “I don’t know that it would be very fair to call this a date with that in mind.”
shesxinxcharge
Jane sat down next to River and placed her hand over River’s hand, smiling softly at her.
“Well then, all the more reason for it to be a date, if I’ve got a month that I can spend with you than we are going to spend it well.”
onlywateristheriver
Jane’s touch soothed River. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt like she never wanted to leave this woman. It scared her. It thrilled her. She took a deep breath.
“Why do I feel like I’ve known you forever? Who are you Jane Smith?”
shesxinxcharge
She squeezed River’s hand and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but I feel the same way about you…”
“I’m just a woman who likes adventure, I grew up in Skelmanthorpe and I ended up here because I’m multi talented, I am a professor of both Physics and History after all. Does that help?”  
onlywateristheriver
“Not in the slightest.” River laughed.
“So, if this is a date, what are we doing after?”
shesxinxcharge
“Good, I didn’t think it would but now you know a little bit more about me so it helps me. “ Jane answered with a grin before taking a sip out of her soda.
“Back to my place of course, I want to show you my flat so you know where to find me when I’m not at the University…”
onlywateristheriver
River’s mind immediately conjured up visions of Jane lying beside her, naked on top of her, underneath her, between her legs. ‘What is wrong with me? I hardly know this woman.’ She felt her face heating up and hoped it didn’t show. 
“Your place it is, then.” River smiled and opened her soda as the server came by and dropped off their food.
shesxinxcharge
Jane grinned widely at River, noticing a slight red tinge to her cheeks, obviously her mind had gone to the exact same place as hers had, Jane really couldn’t help but imagine her in bed with her naked, her own hands sliding over her perfect body….
She cleared her throat , picking up a chip from her own plate of food and nibbling at it slowly.
“Absolutely, my place it is then, where are you staying River?”
 onlywateristheriver
‘She’s really got to stop smiling at me like that.’ River sighed, feeling a tugging at her heartstrings.
“I actually just hit the ground running. I’m just in a hotel at the moment. Haven’t had a chance to find something that will just take me for the month.”
shesxinxcharge
“A Hotel? No that is too long to be staying in a hotel for, especially at the cost of the ones around here. I actually have a spare bedroom that you can use if you like, I mean I know we have only just met but you seem very nice and I seem to be able to trust you instantly… but don’t say anything until you have seen the room.” Jane couldn’t help but ask excitedly, she had been wanting someone to share her flat with, after all it could get rather lonely there at times.
“Should we take our food to go? We can eat on the walk to my flat if you like? Or we can eat here?”
onlywateristheriver
“I’ve always been a bit of a nomad. Never putting down roots. Never staying too long in one place. But if you’re okay with having to look for a new roommate after only a month, I guess it could work.” 
“I don’t know if I’m any good at being a roommate though. You might want to kick me out after a day.”
River looked down at her meal and picked at a few of her chips. “I have to teach again later this afternoon, so let’s eat on the walk.”
shesxinxcharge
“I’m a bit like that myself to be honest, this is the only place I have stayed long enough to actually need a flat. But I do enjoy it here, it has a great atmosphere.” 
Jane shrugged her shoulders and smiled brightly at River. 
“Oh I won’t need to find another one after a month, I’m fine on my own normally but I will be more than happy to share with you. And don’t worry, if we get annoyed with each other the flat is big enough that we can have our separate spaces.”
Jane grinned and went and asked for some takeaway trays which she brought back to River, handing her one to put her food into as she did the same. “I’m ready to go if you are?”
onlywateristheriver
River slung her bag over her shoulder and checked to see that she hadn’t forgotten anything. “Okay, let’s go.”
shesxinxcharge
Jane held her hand out to River, smiling softly at her. 
“It’s actually not to far away from here, I was heading home when I bumped into you… which I am rather glad that I did.”
0nlywateristheriver
River put her water bottle in her bag so she could grab Jane’s hand. “Okay then, lead the way.”
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bangtan-gal · 5 years
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assistance (m)
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warnings: smut, yeah, kind of crappy, daddy kink, moves quickly, odd ending??
word count: 2k
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a/n: first off: thank you! second off: we hope you enjoy and this has sort of led into a part 2, which will be up next week! ~liffy
When you’d signed up for a job at BigHit, you had thought you’d be working as an assistant to one of the producers or heads, not to be on the beck n’ call of the leader of BTS 24/7. Twenty-four fucking seven, you had a special phone that was supposed to be left on overnight in case he needed you at one AM in the morning. Which turned out to be a regular thing—bringing a coffee (or two) to his studio when he got a random creative burst in the middle of the night. But as much as it had messed up your sleep schedule and practically taken away your social life, you couldn’t help but love it.
    Maybe it was because there was something so amazing in his eyes when he was writing lyrics or the way he would drag his teeth across his lip in thought. But it was mostly because of the crush you’d developed on him over the months. Sure, he was charming enough on camera, but well, he was way better in real life. His voice was deeper, his eyes were brighter, his smile was bigger, and his… fuck, his everything was just richer.  But what you hadn’t noticed was that you weren’t the only one catching feelings.
    Namjoon had you work longer hours for no reason, asked you over at night more often (had even asked you to stay the night sometimes), and had started inviting you to eat lunch with him on your break. He would let you sit on his lap while he created tracks and started asking for your advice more as time went by. You mistook it that he was just becoming more comfortable with you.
You were so oblivious that you didn’t notice the several times you left the rapper with a boner after he would let you sit on his lap. You didn’t notice the glares he sent to his teammates whenever they even tried to compliment you or became too friendly. You thought nothing of it when he asked you if you had a boyfriend or the joy on his face when you said you didn’t.
You sat in the guest room of the Namjoon’s apartment, unpacking your stuff. He had a busy week and had asked you to just stay in the apartment with him so it’d be easier for both of you. You smiled as you set your clothes neatly on the chair, a warmth blooming through you. You didn’t care if your feelings were one-sided, you would still enjoy every second you got to spend with him.
“Y/N? You ready? I need you to help me take notes for this phone call,” he said, stepping into the room. He was pulling on a t-shirt and you blushed when you saw his chiseled chest and his creamy skin underneath.
“Yes, Mr. Kim,” you said softly, following him out of the room with your journal in tow. He glanced at your over his shoulder, raising one dark eyebrow. “Sorry—Namjoon.”
He’d been very adamant about the two of you being on a first name basis. He said he hated it when the makeup artists or other assistants would call him something so formal, it made him feel old. Despite completely agreeing with that idea, you had a tendency to call him that because there was something so hot when the annoyance would flash on his face for a quick second followed by a silent demand.
The call was interesting to you, but the idol just seemed annoyed as he listened to the man drone on and on about datelines. Of course, you couldn’t blame the boy’s annoyance when the man on the phone went onto a lecture about keeping up. In the seven months you’d worked for Joon, he’d been completely on top of everything and always finished on schedule, sometimes even before.
“That was exciting,” he muttered sarcastically and then stood up, glancing at you. “Well, let’s get working, shall we?”
You followed him into his studio, glancing around slowly before sitting down on the couch. Namjoon worked in silence for fifteen minutes and while he did you worked on the schedule. Occasionally you would look up to watch him run a hand through his hair and scrunch up his nose. You couldn’t help the smile that spread over your face.
“Come here baby.” Your head shot up, confusion flooding you and then you froze when you realized he was indeed talking to you. He stared at you, a small smirk on his face. You blushed and got up, slowly walking towards him. Namjoon had never used that nickname before… and it was getting in your head.
He grabbed your wrist, pulling you down onto his lap. You were used to that, but the name was still in your mind and it was making you uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. Your skin felt hot and your stomach was tightened up. He shifted you so you were only on one leg, nudging you off to the side as he continued to work.
Joon would occasionally ask you questions or read something aloud to you to see if it sounded good. You listened attentively, trying not to stare at his lips when he talked to you. He’d been quiet for the past ten minutes and you were starting to wonder if he was going to ask you anything else.
That’s when it started.
    He started to bounce the leg that you were straddling. It didn’t bother you at first and you barely noticed, but then when he sped up, you definitely noticed. It wasn’t anything new, he always bounced his leg when he got really into his work, but you normally were positioned on his lap, not on his leg. One of your hands grasped the armrest as he continued to bounce his leg. All the pressure was on your clit and you could feel it in your stomach. You bit your lip, a small mewl escaping out around.
“You okay?” He queried, resting his chin on your shoulder and glancing at you. You met his gaze out of the corner of your eye and nodded. You were okay, but you weren’t sure if you should be… shouldn’t you be against this? He’s technically your boss.
“Ah, I’m just gonna sit on the couch-”
    You tried to stand up, but the boy suddenly had a tight hold on your waist. You wiggled helplessly for a few seconds before giving up. No matter how much you wished you could, you refused to relax. You kept your back straightened, staring at the computer screen nervously.
“Hey,” he murmured, his hand moving from your waist to your thigh, drawing circles with his thumb on your inner thigh. “What’s up?”
“Please, stop,” you hissed out, trying to ignore the fact that not only was he still bouncing his leg, but his thumb was unnecessarily close to your core.
“Do you really want me to, baby?”
His voice had dropped on octave and it sent quakes through your anatomy. You gave in, shaking your head. Joon’s hand moved further up your leg, his thumb pressing against your slit through your pants. You blushed, glancing over your shoulder to meet his heated gaze.
The smirk on his face was dangerous and you knew you shouldn’t have given in, but it was too late. He had you stand up and helped you out of your pants, momentarily admiring your pink panties before he pulled those down too. He bit his lip, meeting your gaze.
You straddled his thigh again, this time facing him. A blush was obvious on your face and you found yourself unable to meet his gaze as you rested your hands on his chest. He pushed your chin up with an index finger, watching you.
“Look at me baby, I wanna see your face when you come undone.”
    You nod and then slowly start grinding back and forth, angling your body so that all the feeling is on your clit. You speed up, a whimper leaving you as your sopping pussy grinds against his pants. Pants start escaping from you and a low groan from Namjoon rocks you. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head when the rapper adds his fingers to the equation, the pads rubbing along your slit as you start to grind down on them too.
    He starts to bounce his leg again and the pleasure is almost too much. You manage to hold his gaze as you bite your lip and you explode on him. He mutter something, but you’re too far off to completely pick up on it. You rest your head against his shoulder, gasping for breath.
    The man gets up and you immediately straddle his waist as he walks the two of you over to the couch. He lays you down, hovering over top of you as he undoes his belt and zipper. You lick your lips, not sure if you’re completely ready, but your hormone-addled mind doesn’t seem to care.
“Now,” he murmurs as he shucks off his boxers. “Before this happens, I want to make sure we’re on the same page—this isn’t anything, this is just casual. It might continue, but you will remain unknown to the outer world.”
Your heart drops at those words, but you nod either way. For some reason you decide you’d rather have this than completely be rejected. Plus, what could you expect? He was apart of the biggest boyband on the planet and you were his assistant—the two of you could never be anything.
“Good,” he hisses and then lines himself up.
You shiver as his head massages your slit before slowly slipping in. You groan, throwing your head back and arching your back. Fuck, he’s huge. He pushes your thighs against your stomach so he can get a better angle. He grunts and then his thrusts pick up speed. The couch creaks beneath his rapid speed and you continue to whimper as he rams into you in a relentless pace.
You let out a loud moan when he finds your g-spot and he smirks and aims for the spot again. You gasp, lights flashing in your eyes as he continues to hit the same spot over and over. Lewd noises come from the wetness between you, but you don’t even care. Your hand digs into the cushion beneath you, the other covering your mouth.
He rips your hand away from your mouth, sending a quick glare your way. You let out a squeak, trying to hold back the scream that begs to escape but it’s no use. A scream follows shortly after and you arch your back, trying to help him go even deeper. You can feel every inch of him and it’s amazing.
“Oh shit, Namjoon!” You squeak out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. The knot in your stomach comes undone. He groans when you tighten around him and he holds tighter to your legs, ramming into your pussy faster to find his own bliss. He finds it moments later, his face pressing against your neck as he empties out.
    He pulls out, his cum and your juices pooling on his couch. He grimaces, but says nothing as he stands up, abruptly pulling his pants up. You stumble off the couch, struggling to stand, but force yourself to. Namjoon sighs, glancing at you and running a hand through his hair.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmurs.
“Okay Namjoon,” you mumble, letting him lead you. He purses his lips and then meets your gaze with a steely one.
“It’s Daddy when you and me are alone baby,” he says softly, gripping your chin tightly and staring at you. “Which is going to be almost every hour. You better sell your apartment, because you’re never going back.”
And that’s what led to you being the secret baby of Kim Namjoon.
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