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#well he does try to collect secrets on people
yuri-is-online · 4 months
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Been brainrotting lately and now I present to you what I think is an underused story beat for Yuu. What if “Yuu” isn’t even the prefect’s real name?
Considering that Yuu’s first experience in Twisted Wonderland is waking up in a coffin, wandering around an obviously foreign place, and being questioned by a suspicious man in a crow mask surrounded by people in black hooded robes… I just think most people would not give their real name in such a sketchy situation.
Fast forward to when Yuu is more comfortable with the cast and there is both comedy and angst potential here. On one hand, the reactions to the deception could be pretty funny. (Cue a “woe is me” from Crowley. Of course he can’t find a way home for you when he doesn’t have your real name!) On the other, this could be a great way of exploring the prefect having a crisis. Yuu already lost so much in being taken to Twisted Wonderland, and now in a way even the prefect’s name has been taken.
What do you think?
waking up in a coffin, wandering around an obviously foreign place, and being questioned by a suspicious man in a crow mask surrounded by people in black hooded robes…
Annon, annon, annon, when you put it like that it sounds like Yuu woke up in the middle of a cult ritual of some sort. Which I suppose if you were an edgy Night Raven student idia you might argue that the enrollment ceremony totally is as an excuse not to go
But to be more serious, I have seen a few memes about this concept and I like it a lot σ( ̄、 ̄=) It's a fun character concept, it's not everyday you get a chance to re-invent yourself completely.
That being said, just based off of the few dialogue options Yuu has at the start, I think Yuu is implied to believe that they are dreaming:
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Which honestly doesn't make this idea any less valid. If you're dreaming about waking up in the middle of some weird necromancer's rite, why not give him a fake name? It's not meant to be serious anyway. Just go with the flow and hope things don't get too weird (and get offended when your dream doesn't give you magic powers) until it's too late and you realize everyone thinks your name really is that bad joke you made.
If you want to get darker, maybe Yuu really did think they died. A black carriage pulling a coffin really only goes to a funeral, and death has been depicted as an unmanned coach with black horses. Maybe Yuu is only just coming to grips with the fact that they really are alive when they see Riddle overblot and he hurts them. Maybe they now are sitting next to two people who have started to think about them as a friend, a really close one. Maybe they think Yuu is really brave because they charged headlong into danger without a second thought, and won, twice now. Maybe Yuu cries themselves to sleep that night because in a way... you died so yuu could live.
As for reactions, Crowley and the other staff members I think would be the most dramatic, followed by Adeuce and Grim. Jack I can see accepting your reasons and not thinking too hard about it, maybe even respecting your survival instincts, while Epel... well he says he's mad but mostly he's just concerned. He knows what it feels like to have two dueling parts of yourself and trying to find the middle ground. Ortho would be excited, you have a secret identity just like a magical girl/super sentai/anime idol/superhero take your pick really. He certainly doesn't mind getting to know you all over again.
Sebek screams at you for being a threat to Wakasama but it's clear to everyone who actually knows him that he's really just worried about the amount of stress you put on yourself. He would hate for you to have the same issues with self loathing he does. And Malleus? Well he lied to you about who he was because he was worried you would be afraid, even though you didn't know he existed. It would be very petty for him to hold a grudge against you for doing the same.
In general I think this would be something the others would have an easier time understanding as opposed to Yuu's sense of alienation or loneliness at not having magic. Identity issues are common themes in fiction, so I could see them actually seeing it as a problem as opposed to an abstract problem like no government papers (since these kids with one obvious exception don't do taxes.) But it would make for a great way to explore the prefect having a crisis just as you say, in a way it's the perfect example for every problem they might have with being in Twisted Wonderland.
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darknight3904 · 5 months
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All Yours, Coryo
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ.
ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ.
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx. ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɴᴀɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɪꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴅ ꜰʟᴀɢꜱ. ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ.
ɪ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʜɪᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ, ɴᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ.
ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.
Coriolanus has never been the easiest person to understand. His mind was always racing and it kept you on your toes. Even now as he fretted over his appearance in the mirror you could tell his mind was thinking of a million things beyond whether or not his tie fit him correctly.
"For what it's worth, I think you look perfect." You say, sipping at your drink, you had been ready for nearly twenty minutes while Coriolanus was still figuring out what tie matched his pants best.
"I'm sure you do but this isn't just any party, I'm campaigning tonight and everything must be perfect." He says adjusting his hair even though it already sat perfectly styled atop his head.
It was Coriolanus' 23rd birthday and instead of celebrating like you usually did, you were both spending it at a party full of people who might help him reach the presidency by the beginning of next year. You approach him and wrap your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.
"It will be." You assure, pressing a kiss to his exposed neck where his makeup artist did a wonderful job at covering the marks you had left behind last night.
"If all goes well tonight, you might just become the first lady of Panem one day." He smiles at you through the mirror
"Does that mean we're getting married?" You laugh, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the idea of being with him forever
"Maybe..." Coriolanus says suddenly avoiding your eyes as his face reddens under your gaze.
You giggle at your boyfriend's flustered face, despite how grown up he had become in the past few years he was still the same boy you met at the academy all those years ago who just wanted his own bowl of fruit to gobble down.
"You definitely wanna marry me, Coryo!" You say almost as if you had discovered a secret of his.
"Well if you're not interested I can always find another." He jests, finally tying his tie.
"Oh please, I'm the only one who could ever tolerate you." You smile as he spins around to face you and rests his hands on your hips
"That you are, darling, that you are." He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your lips
Coriolanus is sure you are his favorite person in the entire world. From the way you'd laugh at his jokes to the way your nose whistled when you slept, he loved it all. Even now as the two of you had long abandoned your teenage years and stepped into adulthood, he knew he didn't want to lose you. His interactions with Lucy Gray and his time in District 12 had only solidified how he wanted you to stay close to him. He watches as you cross the room to slip into a pair of pretty high heels, he loved the way your dress sat on your body, it was perfectly fitted and he wondered what designer had been able to craft it so perfectly.
He looked back at the mirror and pretended to fiddle with his outfit again even though he knew he looked perfect. Instead, his eyes cast to the small table next to the mirror where a collection of photos sat you and him over the past five years. His favorite though was the one that was taken at your 17th birthday party. He remembered how warm it had been, and at one point someone had filled a bucket of water and tossed at you. He had expected you to cry out and push everyone out of your home but instead, he was met with your laughter and thus a water fight had begun. The picture of the two of you had been taken not even twenty minutes later, both of you were drenched but happy and you had linked your arms together right before the picture was taken. Sometimes he wished to go back to those moments, to relieve the last bits of his boyhood even though it meant going back to that decrepit building he once lived in and the taste of cabbage a constant on his tongue.
"Thinking about the past?" You ask from across the room.
"Thinking about how ugly we look here." He says picking up the photo
"Nonsense, we're adorable in that. If I remember correctly that was taken a few weeks before you tripped me in my room trying to slow dance and then you gave me the kiss of a lifetime." You smile
"I didn't trip you, you tripped me with your bad dancing." He laughed, returning the photo to its proper place among the others.
"Whatever you say, Coryo." You smiled, he could tell you didn't believe one word that came from his mouth about the tripping incident.
These parties were always a bit tedious for you. You enjoyed seeing Coriolanus happy among Capitol elites and you loved the lavish dresses you got to wear but sometimes it became overwhelming. The sheer amount of reporters that were always at these things is what drove you crazy. Coriolanus ate the attention up and answered all their questions about how he'd change Panem for the better but you were usually left answering questions about what your dress was made of or what your relationship was with Coriolanus. He often assured you that once he won the presidency he'd have more control over what was asked and that you'd never have to answer another dress question again. You hoped he won as soon as possible, it was tiring pretending this line of questioning was interesting.
"Is that real gold on your sleeves?"
"Is that ring on your finger an engagement ring?"
"Who did your hair for the evening?"
"Are you going to have the future president's children?"
"Did you seduce Coriolanus Snow for power in the Capitol?"
"How many toes do you have?"
God you wished they'd all shut up, or at least get better questions. Even just something as small as your involvement with your father's company would've been better than this. You ignored whatever trash was coming from their mouths and held on to Coriolanus' arm like he was going to disappear and end up back in District 12 again.
You remembered that day very well, after Coriolanus' tribute had won he had just disappeared despite promising to walk you home after the games had ended. When he didn't show up for graduation either, you found yourself outside Tigris and Grandma'am's new residence looking for answers. Tigris had told you what happened with him and that girl, Lucy Gray, how he cheated with rat poison and a handkerchief of his father's. At first, you had been distraught that he was sent off to District 12, stuck there for twenty years as some peacekeeping grunt, you'd be an ugly middle-aged woman by the time he got back! You had been in the pits of despair about your relationship with him but all it took was one terrifying meeting with Dr. Gaul to change your attitude. Once she revealed that Coriolanus would be back in the Capitol soon, and she was simply testing his dedication to the games, you relaxed. While Dr. Gaul might not have all her marbles you knew she wasn't lying, and sure enough, your Coriolanus returned to you in a matter of weeks.
However, he returned to you differently though. Sure, his head was shaved like all Peacekeepers and the curls you loved to play with were gone, but his attitude had also changed. Perhaps it was that Songbird he never wanted to speak of even now. You could never quite place what happened between Coriolanus and her, all that mattered to you was that he had assured you it wasn't romantic. Just shared ambitions to both win something. In her case her life and in his the Plinth Prize, not that that went well for her since she had disappeared shortly after she went home. You weren't quite sure what to make of Lucy Gray, the mysterious Songbird who had enchanted all of Panem just five years ago. You had only spoken to her once and it was just to compliment her singing during her interview. She hadn't exactly impressed you with her in that moment but she must have impressed Coriolanus at some point if he was willing to break rules for her.
Or perhaps his change was due to whatever training Peacekeepers went through and the death of Sejanus that had rocked the entire Capitol when he was revealed as a traitor, you knew Coriolanus had been close to him. Of course, despite all his changes and attitude adjustments, he never applied them to you. So, here you stayed by his side, happy that he still loved you the same. Soft touches and sweet words remained constant as the two of you aged and explored the advantages of adulthood. One of your favorite things about being 23 was moving out of your family's home and into the penthouse Coriolanus had chosen for the two of you. Waking up next to Coriolanus each day and seeing how he looked before his eyes fluttered open had to be your favorite part of the days you spent together. Brushing his hair from his eyes and counting the freckles that just barely brushed his pale skin was something you did daily until his pretty blue eyes met yours again. Once he did wake though, it was hard to get him to stay in bed with you. His peaceful state was always replaced with a man who was always working towards something, ambition was always fueling him.
You didn't mind his rough exterior that emerged each morning though, Coriolanus was cold and hard on everyone but you. Perhaps it was your shared childhood memories and teenage romance that prevented him from treating you coldly like he did poor Tigris but you weren't sure. One thing you did know was that the boy you grew up with was gone and a man stood in his place, brooding and cold to everyone but you.
"I'm going to get us a drink and then if you want we can dance." He whispered in your ear
"Can you get me that fizzy lemon drink they usually serve?" You ask
"Of course, I'll bring you some of those hors d'oeuvres you like with the cheese as well."
And then, he was gone from your side moving expertly through the crowd. That dazzling blonde hair accompanied by the broadest shoulders you've ever seen on a man disappeared among the throngs of people craning their necks to get a better look at the future president and his pretty face.
"A true marvel isn't he?" a voice to your right said
You turned to be met by none other than Lucky Flickerman, a drink in one hand and a young child's hand grasped in the other.
"I'm not interested in doing an interview, Lucky. If you want information on Coryo you can ask him yourself." You say, ready to walk away from the Capitol's favorite news anchor turned Hunger Games host.
"Coryo...what an interesting nickname, a bit childish for a man who might watch over us all soon. No matter, I would however absolutely love to report on you one day and maybe even that big business you're the heiress of, but I'm actually talking to you for this little one tonight." Lucky smiles motioning to the boy who you guessed was his son. "He was admiring that stunning dress of yours and I thought he might want to see it up close and personal."
For once you didn't mind being asked about your clothes as you crouched down to the little boy's height, he couldn't be more than 5 or 6.
"You have a good eye, would you like to feel the fabric? The designer I met with made it wonderfully soft." You smile, thinking of how Tigris had gushed over the blood-red fabric that would perfectly match Coriolanus' suit with you just weeks ago.
The boy reaches his hand out and brushes it along expensive fabric and a smile grows on his face.
"What's your name?" You ask
"Caesar." He says "I just turned 6 last week."
"Well, Caesar, six is a marvelous age to be, you can do all sorts of things at six. In fact, when I turned six I learned to ride a bicycle for the first time, I did however scrape my knees half a million times. I even still have a few scars on my knees would you like to see them?." You smile at him and he nods.
"Lucky Flickerman, I thought I told your producers that you weren't allowed to bother her with your idiotic questions the way the other reporters do. You clearly don't value your job, if you did you would have listened to my words." Coriolanus' voice suddenly fills your ears as you quickly right yourself, remembering how he once told you you'd have to start holding yourself with more decorum at these events. 'No more acting like a stupid teenager' had been his exact words one night when you were eating dinner together in your shared room.
"It's fine, his son wanted to say hello." You smile down at Caesar, take your lemon drink, and pop some of the food Coriolanus brought with him into your mouth. You sincerely hoped that you weren't about to witness Lucky being fired by the newest mastermind behind The Hunger Games and future the president.
From the corner of your eye, you see Coriolanus cast an intimidating look down at the boy and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs and force him to apologize to the poor child who was now cowering behind his father's stylish pant leg.
"I'll see you later, Lucky. We are going to go dancing now." Coriolanus says setting your barely sipped drink and food on a tray of a passing server before whisking you away.
"You're bad with children, Coryo." You say as he leads you towards the dance floor.
"And you're bad at reading people, darling." He says, ignoring the way you pouted at your loss of lemon drink and cheese-sprinkled food.
"What do you mean?" You ask, confused
"Lucky just wanted to get you to answer questions about me," Coriolanus says as he leads you in a dance, the both of you had gotten exceptionally better since your failure at 17 in your childhood bedroom.
"Oh." You say, a bit sad that he wasn't genuinely interested in you, just another dumb reporter who wanted news on Coriolanus' next move. It was amazing how Coriolanus always knew what others were thinking and how to approach a situation best.
"It's alright, just ignore him next time," Coriolanus says, gently squeezing your waist as a form of reassurance.
You nod and rest your head on his shoulder as you spin around the dance floor, suddenly wishing you were tangled up in bed with him rather than dancing in heels that were pinching your toes.
"Can I confess something to you?" Coriolanus whispers, his lips tickling your ear.
"Of course, always " You reply honestly
"I hate seeing you interacting with them." He says in a low voice.
"Them?" You ask
"These people. Seeing them ask you questions about your dress or hair, makes me want to toss them into the arena and watch one of Gaul's mutts rip them apart. I hate the way they look at you like you're a piece of meat attached to my side." He says, possessiveness lacing his tone.
"Oh...well I'm sure they don't all think that way." You try to reason, hoping that he wasn't right about this read on others.
"I doubt it. Look at that one by the fountain in the blue jacket." He says nodding to his right.
You glance over to the fountain and see an old man with a fluffy white beard and white hair to match. He seemed to be carefully watching you and Coriolanus spinning on the dancefloor but you weren't quite sure.
"I'm positive he's standing there imagining what it'd look like if this pretty dress was on the floor and you were on top of him," Coriolanus whispers, knowing it'll have you blushing in his arms.
"Coryo..." You say, trying to keep your composure as he presses his body to yours while you wonder if he's truly right and the old man across the pretty courtyard is truly ogling you.
"Too bad I'm the only one who will ever know what that looks like." He says a certain arrogance in his voice you can't quite place.
"Stop it." You scold, trying to hide the fact that your face is as red as your dress.
"Why? I can't wait to get back to our bedroom tonight and bring what's in my head to life." Coriolanus laughs, his voice was husky in your ears and making you weak in the knees.
"You're so embarrassing, Coryo." You say into his chest, avoiding that sharp gaze he had. How could someone act so well-composed but also have the dirty mind of a perverted teenage boy?
Coriolanus stops leading your dance and hooks a finger under your chin so you're looking up at him again. Sharp blue eyes that felt like they were staring into your soul looked at you, full of passion and want.
"My heart burns for you, darling, as it always has. You're mine, my perfect girl, all mine." He promises before swooping in to deliver what might qualify as the most monumental kiss in all of history.
A certain warmness spreads across your body as he kisses you in public for the first time. It's moments like this with your Coriolanus make your heart swell, these moments remind you that the little boy with the golden curls you met when you were just twelve lives on, just in a different way. You know the teenager you once ate cabbage soup and bread with sweet jam watches over you as you kiss his 23-year-old self, you know he's smiling at where the two of you are now. You're sure that the same boy who once spun you around your childhood bedroom to your favorite slow song is still here with you now, even if he rarely shows his face. Coriolanus Snow is always watching over you, every version of him envelopes you tonight as he shows the world who you are to him.
Your head spins and your lungs burn as you hear a few whoops and cheers from onlookers while others whisper about how Coriolanus' hands are wandering all over your body. You're sure the way he's kissing you is going to end up on some Capitol news reel tomorrow morning but you can't find the heart to care. Somewhere in his chest, you feel Coriolanus let out a deep groan when you run your hands through his hair ruining the way it was perfectly styled for the evening. You gasp when his teeth nip at your bottom lip and pull away, a gasp for air leaving your now surely swollen lips.
"All yours, Coryo." You assure him and lean in for another kiss.
You smile as he kisses back and couldn't care less about what the world around you thinks, you had your Coryo, the boy who you grew up with and ate cabbage together in his decrepit home, the same boy who danced with you despite his own lack of skill. You were with your Coriolanus, the man who was going to carry Panem into a new age of glory.
Part Three
Series Masterlist
Read the Teaser here
So I uh sorta ended up abandoning fluffy Coryo thoughts from part one and went with the reader's pov of him at 23, I hope that's okay with all of you. He still loves you though don't worry, it's just in his own Coryo way. His own magically manipulative Coryo way. I was initially going to make this part during the 10th Hunger Games but then I thought, wouldn't it be interesting to see how he interacts with reader post Lucy Gray considering how much she changes his ideals. To make things clear, every moment with Lucy Gray and Coryo has occurred and the reader is unaware of pretty much all of it here, obviously since she's so goo goo gah gah over him.
If you'd like more of my writings about Coryo and you, my fic Blank Space might be the read for you, it also has a part two that is available now You can read them both here. (Yes it's based on the Taylor Swift song)
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ddejavvu · 6 months
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omg part two for hotch scrolling through your ig pretty please 😭😭 like IMAGINE penelope gathering the rest of the gang so they can collectively stalk your instagram and she accidentally likes one of your pictures while lurking
Penelope isn't often scared of Hotch, because the man has a soft spot for her, and she knows it. But now he's staring at her with a stern glare, something she's not usually on the receiving end of. She shifts on her heels, strangely speechless.
"Sir? Is everything okay?"
He lets her suffer in silence for a moment longer, then gestures towards his phone face-up on the desk. It's lit up with a text notification, and she faintly recognizes the name that it's attached to.
Y/N Y/L/N: Isn't this your computer whiz?
"Open it." Hotch instructs, his voice unfailingly calm, which sets Penelope even further on edge. She reaches out with a trembling finger to tap on the notification and it opens your thread, the screen entirely consumed with a screenshot you'd taken of your instagram. Sure enough, in your notifications page is a note: baby_girl_penny_g liked your photo.
"Um," Penelope stalls, and despite her rampant creativity, she can't bring herself to fib, "Well, I- the tags were-"
"There were no hashtags," Hotch stops her in her tracks, "The only way you could have found that photo was on her profile. How long ago was that posted?"
Penelope scrolls to the bottom of the post even though she doesn't want to, and mutters "2018."
"Five years ago. Five-" Hotch steels himself before he gets too upset, pinching the slim bridge of his nose, "Garcia, did Morgan tell you about this?"
"it wasn't his fault," She pleads his case, "I could tell there was something on his mind! So I got him, like, super drunk, and we-"
"Penelope, this was none of your business." Hotch speaks over her. He doesn't like cutting her off, but he knows her, and she'll talk for hours just to try and weasel her way back into his good graces. He watches her squirm with a stern expression, hands folded on his desk while he clenches his jaw.
"I won't tell anyone else." She promises weakly, and Aaron raises a single eyebrow at her. Secret-keeping is not her forte, and they both know it.
"Okay, so-" She crumples, "I- I totally will. But Hotch, we're gonna be happy for you! I'm already happy for you, you deserve this! You deserve love, even if you try to use this job as an excuse not to find it! You found it, and you should own it."
"I purposefully did not share the status of my relationship with our team. It was meant to be private."
Penelope regains some of her boldness now, even in the face of Hotch's scowl, "Well tough shit, Hotchner! We love you, and we were all there when you lost Haley! We watched you die inside, and we deserve to watch you live again! We are part of your family, Hotch, whether you like it or not, and we're not gonna walk away just because you get snippy with us! So help me, Hotch, I will handcuff myself to you until you realize that we are here. We are here, and we love you, and we always will! You can tell us about your life, because we want to enjoy it with you."
Perhaps she shouldn't have been so forward. Perhaps she shouldn't have said the H-word, or brought up Hotch's infuriating tendency to distrust people's care for him not out of malice, but out of self-loathing. Perhaps she should have hung her head and apologized, but Penelope Garcia is headstrong, and she does not fear the tense wrath of Aaron Hotchner simply for loving him.
For a moment, she worries that she's flaunted a red cape around a bull. Reid's words echo in her mind about how it's nothing to do with the color red, and everything to do with the movement of the fabric, but now is not the time, Doctor Reid, thank you very much. She waits for him to charge, knows he'll withdraw now that she's faced him with the terror of being known, of being cared for, and she can feel her heart sink to the nearly-numb heels of her feet.
Then something in his jaw shifts, and he glances away from her, blinking.
"Thank you." He murmurs, and she thinks she may have heard him wrong.
"What?" She whispers, and he gnaws at the inside of his cheek, caving it in.
"Thank you. For being firm with me." He clarifies, "I... I'm glad that you're here."
Tears spring to her eyes and she nods vigorously, incapable of speech but overflowing with emotion. He swallows, clearing his throat, "In the future, please do not stalk my romantic partners. And... in the future, I will introduce you, so that you don't need to stalk them."
"Okay," She grins through her misty eyes, letting him steer the conversation back towards his comfort zone, "Okay, Hotch. We love you. And- and we're really happy for you, and can I please go and tell the others?"
He laughs despite himself, and doesn't bother steeling himself into composure anymore. He grins, "Fine. But leave out the details of her most recent posts, please."
"The ones where she talks about being sore in the mornings?" She fixes him with a devious grin, already making for the door intent on shouting the news from the rooftops, "I won't say it in the bullpen, 'cause Reid couldn't handle it, but I'm totally gossiping with the girls about it, Hotch."
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athenaluthor · 3 months
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Hesitation - Darth Vader
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Summary: Husband!Vader has been on his ship for far too long. His very pregnant wife has come to fetch him.
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, Unburnt!Vader, Domestic!Vader, Husband!Vader, established relationship, fluff , porn with plot, wife!reader, PiV, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please), creampie, mentions of children, mentions of Emperor Palps (he's his own red flag), same universe as my other fic here
Word count ~ 3.6k (unedited)
masterlist
Vader hasn't left his ship in days. Regularly occupied by the matters of the Empire, it was not uncommon for him to be absorbed in his work. More often than not, he would work late into the night until he lost track of time. Rest and sleep were put aside until he was satisfied with the work. To make matters worse, food and drinks his attendants provided were also regularly left untouched in favor of his work.
Although many would prefer it, his wife had decided to not let him rot on the Executor. After all, she prefers him alive and well. It also is not helpful that the current chatter among the Imperial ranks was that Lord Vader despised her and would rather confine himself to his ship than be with his very pregnant wife.
On some occasions, one could say that it was indeed true. Vader was nothing but dedicated to his work, or the Dark Side if we're being honest. But for the most part, Vader is practically glued to her. If he could chain her to their bed, he would.
That being said, no one dared to disturb him on his ship. Vader's temper was infamously catastrophic, mercurial. He could go from calm and collected, to being the embodiment of chaos and destruction. To make matters worse, her third pregnancy is proving far more difficult than the other two. The pain borders on unbearable and she struggles to walk even short distances.
Walking through the doors of his private office aboard the ship, she searches it for her husband. The cold wave of air sends a chill down her spine, making her shiver. She clutches her fur shawl closer to her body, trying to keep warm. The sight of Vader standing and looking over his war table, greets her. He was surely ready to chew out whomever had bothered him, clearly engulfed in his work.
Turning around, Vader's anger dissipates. Seeing his wife slowly walking towards him, taking careful steps to ensure she wouldn't slip and injure herself or god forbid, her baby has that effect on him. Naturally, Vader wastes no time in slipping off his helmet and crossing the room to her. Instinctively, he holds out his arm for her to use as support and walks her over to the sofa. Vader adjusts the few cushions on the absurdly large and plush sofa to support her back and helps her sit.
“What are you doing here?” he all but yells, kneeling down in front of her to slip off her shoes. Setting her shoes aside, Vader massages her swollen feet.
“When ones’ husband does not return home to his wife for days in favor of a ship, people talk. Not to mention, the boys miss you as well.”
“A few things are taking longer than I expected. I planned on coming home yesterday.” he replies, eyes avoiding her. He opts to focus his vision on her feet and massaging out the knots.
“I know. Your schedule isn't exactly a secret to me.”
“Things don't always go as planned.”
“Well, rebels and incompetent Imperial officers will do that.” she replies nonchalantly.
“Did you walk all the way from the landing bay to here?”
“Yes. It's not a very short walk, you know.”
Vader's face grows darker with what she assumes is rage or frustration. She reaches out to grab his gloved hand and toy with his fingers.
“I know. The walk is not suitable for a woman who's heavily pregnant!” he replies sternly, clearly unhappy with her choice.
Standing up, he walks over to the side table and buzzes for an attendant. Seconds later, one rushes in, face riddled with anxiety and fear.
“Yes, Lord Vader?” her voice quivers slightly. Clearly frightened in anticipation of Vader's wrath.
He orders her to bring in a selection of drinks and food, barely acknowledging her presence.
The attendant looks somewhat relieved at his request, probably grateful he wasn't directing his wrath at her. Her eyes flicker over to Vader's wife briefly before she quickly steps out of the room.
Quietly, Vader rearranges the cushions in the couch again and gestures for his wife to lay down. Tired and uncomfortable, she happily obliges. Vader helps her lay down, adjusting things here and there to ensure her comfort.
He fusses like a mother hen, she muses to herself.
Sitting down beside her, his hand gently caresses her large bump, a comfortable silence washing over them.
Soon, he thought. Soon, they would be free from the Emperor's clutches. His sons wouldn't be forced to serve the Emperor as he had, his wife wouldn't have to keep birthing him children if she didn't want to. He would give her anything, she gave him a second chance of life when he squandered it.
The baby wastes no time and gives a rather hard kick to Vader's hand, earning a groan from his mother.
“Your son is not letting me sleep. He can't stop moving or kicking or tensing! Everything just hurts.” she angrily says.
Vader reaches out into the force, searching for his unborn son's signature. The boy was warm and his signature was pure, untainted. Vader soothes and calms him down, sensing how tense his wife truly was.
“Have you seen the doctors? Make sure there's nothing wrong with you or the baby.” he asks, concern lacing his voice.
“I have. The baby is just, I don't know, active? The doctors say he's active. Our boys weren't exactly easy pregnancies but I wasn't this uncomfortable with them.”
The squeaky wheels of a cart interrupts them, they both turn their heads to the attendant walking in. Pushing a metal cart that was filled with a few drinks and an assortment of snacks, the attendant asks if they would need anything else.
Vader dismisses the attendant and turns his attention back to his wife.
“Uncomfortable or painful? You need to be honest. I have seen you pregnant, I know you're in pain.” Vader says accusingly.
She doesn't reply. Instead, she opts to run her hands along his suit. Eventually inching up to his face where she runs her fingers across his jaw,his cheek and even his nose.
Vader leans into her, reveling in the contrast of her soft touch against his skin. The way she looked at him so reverently, as if he hung up the stars for her.
In all truth, he would. He wouldn’t even hesitate or question her. He would do anything she asked him to. He didn't deserve this kind of love. He didn't deserve this gentleness and patience. Not after what he's done. Yet, he lets her. He knows he shouldn't let her, but he does every time. She wants to give him all her love and care, yet he feels so desperately undeserving of it. He has tainted her, no matter how hard he tries to, he can't stop himself.
He can't stop himself when she begs him to take her to bed and make love to her or fuck her mindless. He can't stop himself when she's begging him to fill her womb with his seed and give her another baby. Not when she's brought his sons into the world. She has carried and birthed two of his children. Now, she's carrying his third and Vader can feel that she's weaker this time. He won't admit it, he can't admit it.
The dark side in him feeds off this worry, telling him that he will lose her. Telling him that he will lose her to childbirth and the child he put in her will bring her to her death. He condemned her to death the same way he did Padme.
“Stop.” her voice breaks him out of his trance.
She continues “You're spiraling out. You're here yet you're miles away and we can't have that.”
She looks over at the cart and turns to him. With a soft smile on her face she makes him an offer he can't resist.
“How about you eat with me,hmm? I don't have any appetite when I'm alone. Eating with you always helps.”
So, they eat together in silence. The spread of food had enough variety for her not to feel sick. Vader has no protests, as long as she eats. The baby is well-nourished and so is she. She wastes no time in eating her food, having a taste of everything. Vader remembers she is always hungry at this stage of pregnancy, for food and for him. He didn't mind.
Truth be told, he couldn't care if people thought he was pulling away from her. It couldn't be further from the truth. Vader was largely focused on her, his two sons and his unborn child. Everything he did was for them. His plans of betraying Palpatine is all for them. His wife's third pregnancy had thrown a wrench in his plans of overtaking Palpatine. Trying to move her somewhere in this state, he simply couldn't risk it. He didn't want her to be caught in the crossfire while pregnant, not when she is this vulnerable.
The stress could bring harm to both her and the baby. If anything happens to either of them, the dark side would surely dig its claws deeper into him.
Palpatine would also surely take the first chance at killing his pregnant wife if he retaliated. If this happens, the dark side will consume him completely, he thinks. He can't let his boys see that.
Vader also wants to be there for the birth. He wants to make sure she would live through it. Once she's safely given birth safely he prays, he'll have her and the children hidden. Hidden somewhere safe, somewhere protected where no one will be able to find them or hurt them.
Only then will he take on Palpatine. Only then will he destroy his wretched master. He will make Palpatine suffer for all he's taken away from him. Yet, Vader still hesitates. Would this be the right course of action?
Vader was a fool not to see Palpatine’s plans. He believed that Palpatine truly allowed him to have another wife as a reward for his work. In truth, Palpatine wanted his children for his sick and twisted plots. Vader felt his blood run cold and his stomach churn when Palpatine suggested his eldest son be trained in the ways of the dark side soon.
“Will you come home tonight? Perhaps even tuck them in?” Her voice is timid, almost as if she's testing the waters. She doesn't realize it, but her voice snaps him back to reality, grounding him to the world around him.
“Alright. We'll head home soon.” Vader leans in to kiss her, his kiss is passionate yet gentle.
His hand gently weaves itself into her hair and she has no qualms about it. Vader’s kiss tastes sweet, like the fruits he's eaten off the spread and somehow she adores him even more now. The smell of his armor is both comforting and arousing, making her head spin
Vader pushes her fur scarf off her body, exposing her cleavage to him. Laying down, Vader thinks she looks like an angel, a kriffing angel.
Hair tousled and skin warmed, her breasts on display for him. The look in her eyes is one of love and lust which has Vader feeling like a teenage boy with his cock tightening in his pants.
Luckily for him, she's wearing one of her breastfeeding dresses. Vader pulls her dress away from her chest, exposing her to him.
“Vader!” she exclaims loudly, hands swatting him away. “What?” he mischievously grins at her.
“Not here. What if someone enters?”
“I'd kill them” Vader replies nonchalantly.
Vader's tongue moves to toy with one of her nipples, earning a rather erotic groan from her. He gently sucks on her nipple while his hand toys with the other.
Her hand weaves itself into his soft, blonde curls, gripping and tugging it gently as she falls into the fit of pleasure.
Vader moves his attention to her neck, kissing and sucking, leaving red marks in his wake. The smell of her perfume and body oils drives him crazy. When he pulls away, the sight of her flushed face has him breathless and his cock hard.
Vader tugs his gloves off, setting them aside on the cart of food and drinks. Then, he gets between her legs and slowly shifts her skirt up to expose her soaking wet panties. Vader pulls her panties off, tossing them somewhere in the room.
Vader slides two fingers in and out of her, earning moans that any man would beg to hear.
“You smell so sweet and you're so wet. Is all this for me,hmm?” he teases her.
Dizzy from pleasure, she struggles to answer.
“Mmhm..Oh! Who else has me like this?”
“Should I fuck you right here? On this couch, where anyone can walk in,hmm?” he asks.
“I want you. I want you to fuck me, husband” she whines to him.
Satisfied with her answer, Vader leans down and his tongue fiddles with her clit while his fingers pump in and out of her. Her cunt tastes sweet just like her and within minutes, he has her bucking her hips and arching her back, moaning while she grows closer to her climax.
When she does, her body trembles and she tries to close her legs as he continues to suck on her clit and finger her. His fingers move with a come hither motion making her squeal. Her body is always so sensitive when pregnant. Vader loved to see how many times he could make her cum all over him before she couldn't take anymore.
“Ohh, Vader! Vader!” she moans.
Vader continues until she comes undone a second time, her walls clamping down on his finger so tightly he could barely them. Her thighs shake as he sucks harder on her clit and she tries to squirm away from him.
Her thighs wrap around his head and Vader thinks that he could stay there forever. Vader pulls his fingers out of her and his mouth dives right into her pussy, lapping up all her juices.
His wife tries to push him away, clearly it was too much for her. Vader grips her thighs tightly, preventing her from moving away.
Then, he adjusts her on the couch. He helps her get on her knees and positions her so her belly is supported by the couch cushions. Her hands grip the back of the couch for support, preparing to take Vader. Taking her in a back shot position is one of his favorites.
Vader discards his codpiece in record time and unzips himself to free his hard cock. Vader lines his cock up to her and thrusts himself in, her pussy was so wet, it was barely resisting him. He groan loudly as his cock sinks into her warm and wet pussy.
Vader thrusts himself in and out of her, the sounds of their skin slapping only spurring them on. His head moves to the side of her neck, breathing in her scent as one of his hands wraps around her neck gently.
Her moans and pants are music to his ears, he knows she adores it when he's like this. He thrusts into her slow and deep, shifting the angle of his hips to hit the right spots. It takes him all of his control not to fuck the living daylights out of her.
Vader grunts out between his thrusts “You feel so good around me,wife. My wife, the mother of my children, takes my cock so well. Even when you're this pregnant, you still spoil me.”
The hand on her throat moves to clutch her belly. His other hand moves down her swollen belly and to toy with her clit, making her moan loudly.
Vader's thrusts speed up slightly as he rubs her clit, “How long will it take for you to cum this time? You look so good falling apart for me, my darling wife”.
Vader continues his thrusts and the hand on her clit doesn't stop until she comes undone. When she cums, Vader continues to move his cock in and out of her, making her moan and whimper louder. Her walls grip him so tight, it has him grunting as he tries to thrust.
“Vader, Vader, Vader! It's too much! Can't take it, hmmph!” she whimpers.
“I haven't finished yet, my pretty wife. I'm going to fill you up with my cum.” Vader whispers in her ear.
His thrusts now pick up speed as he chases his climax and his fingers on her clit expertly help her get closer to her fourth orgasm as well. Her moans and his grunts fill the room, the sound of their skin slapping against each other echo loudly.
“You're so tight! Too much,hmm? My poor wife can't handle my cock!” He grunts in her ear.
He's close. He's so close and so is he. He ruts into her wildly as he feels her fourth orgasm nearing. She orgasms again, legs shaking as she tries to hold on until he shoots his load deep inside her. She's seeing stars trying not to faint from how good this feels.
“I'm going to cum! Take it, take it” he yells as he shoots his cum inside her. The feeling of being so full of him and his cum has her so dizzy. Her entire body shakes and she's panting as Vader slowly finishes his thrusts.
Vader pulls out of her and the stimulation has her whimpering. His cum drips out of her and onto her thighs and the couch.
Then, he helps her limp body to lay down on the couch. He's careful to lay enough cushions to support her as he lays there satiated and panting. Cleaning himself up, he zips up his pants and places his codpiece back on.
Taking a few tissues, he wipes down the mess he's made between her legs. The contact has her moving away, clearly overstimulated.Then, he helps to adjust her dress and cover her breasts.
“Was that too much, hmm?” Vader asks as he brushes her hair out of her face.
She shakes her head. “It was good. Just what I needed. Though, I don't think I can walk home after this.” she says to him.
Vader leans down to give her a kiss on the cheek before handing her a glass of water with a straw from the cart.“You don't have to. I'll carry you.”
She drinks it under his watchful eye. “I'm doing alright today. The baby is active but the pain isn't too bad. Nothing more than usual. You need not worry, husband.” She says to him.
Vader doesn't answer, merely standing up to grab his helmet and putting it on. He walks over to her and grabs the glass to put it aside.
He picks her up and carries her all the way back to her little ship in the landing bay. Ignoring the eyes of the Imperial officers and stormtroopers, she lays her head on him despite his hard armor poking her head.
By the time they reach her ship, she's fast asleep. Only waking when he straps her into one of the seats. He starts the ship and flies it out the Executor's landing bay down to Coruscant.
Once home, Vader helps her pump her milk since she missed a feeding to go fetch him on his ship. Then,he helps his very sleepy wife freshen up for the night and change into something comfortable for the night. He made sure to rub some ointments on her to soothe her aches and help her sleep.
After he tucks her into bed, he unlatches his helmet and looks out into the nighttime skyline of Coruscant. Bustling with lights and music, filled with party-goers and dwellers from all parts of the galaxy. He turns to look at his wife, sound asleep in his bed looking like an angel. A kriffing angel.
Shedding his armor, Vader heads into the shower. Relieved to wash the day away and calm down, he stands under the warm water for a while. All was well for now. His wife was sound asleep in their bed, his kids were too probably.
Finishing his shower, he gets dressed and heads to his sons’ rooms. Their rooms weren't far, just across from his and his wife's. Close enough for him to get to them if anything were to happen. Nothing would, not under his watch.
He quietly slips into his eldest's room first. The five-year old boy lays sprawling on his bed, blonde curls poking about wildly. His blanket was at the edge of the bed, almost kicked off by the aggressive sleeper that was his son. His son was the most deep sleeper he's seen. An earthquake could happen and the boy would still sleep.
Vader readjusts the boy so he lays properly on his pillow and he slides the blanket back on. He checks the monitor and gives his son a kiss on the forehead before leaving to check on his youngest.
His youngest is now 14 months old. A joyful thing, really. He's always smiling and laughing, following his older brother around.
Vader peers into the boy’s crib to see him clutching his toy purrgil tightly. Vader gives him a kiss and checks the monitor as well before heading to his home office.
Sitting in his chair, he stares at the holo screens in front of him. Now or never, he thinks. He has to put his plans into place if wants to beat Palpatine soon.
He can't hesitate. He has to be sure. Hesitation will get him and his family killed.
His gaze moves to the little clay sculpture of him he has on his desk. It was one his five year old son made for him at school.
He won't hesitate.
Darth Vader does not hesitate.
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bitchimasnake-sss · 3 months
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nsfw alphabet ft. monkey d. luffy!
set-up: no set up, just a collection of short nsfw drabbles featuring the most himboest himbo in town <;3
warning: nsfw themes (obviously 😭); mdni thankyouu <3
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💟aftercare:
look, luffy sleeps in the middle of actual fights. there's no fucking way this man can stay up after y'all are done fucking (esp. if you've gone for a couple of rounds already). it's not too bad, since you get too tired too and he gives the best cuddles when he's passed out. just get used to getting the aftercare in the morning because that's when he checks up on you, get's you both some food (v.v. imp)
💟body part:
his favourite part of you: he is actually infatuated with every aspect of you but holy shit your tits??? he might actually be clinically obsessed with them. whenever you're cuddling, his hand finds your boobs (even if it's just to hold onto them lightly). he doesn't give a fuck about sizes and will 100% go on them for hours (i think it's his oral fixation lmaoo) his favourite part of himself: he loves his arms. other than the fact that they are one of his major weapons in any fights, he can see how you silently stare across his biceps when he's just helping around the deck. you always hold onto his arm when you're out in public too. he also loves when you get so pent up that you end up driving crescent cuts in his arms and shoulders as he fucks you.
💟 cum:
luffy's a nasty, messy man. do what you will with that info. he will cut off an arm and a leg just to finish anywhere on you whether it's inside, on your face or on your chest. just knowing that some essence of him remains on you drives him feral.
💟 dirty secret:
he's probably addicted to your smell. this sounds weird but i def think he's one of those people who steal their girlfriends underwear and then get off of them. like if he goes into the shower right after you and can smell your lingering shampoo and soap then he will fuck his fist as if it's you.
💟experience:
luffy was a complete dumbass in anything sexual but yk he is willing to learn anything that pleases you, so, once you teach him just what he's supposed to do, he will practice it on you till he reaches perfection. be prepared for a fuck lot of practice sessions tho.
💟favourite position:
i think his favourite position is missionary. he's a simple man. you're pretty as fuck and he's obsessed with your tits, what else is he supposed to do? but he's down to try just about anything and everything if you ask him to.
💟goofy:
goofy and luffy sound similar for a reason. im not saying he's giggling and kicking his feet as you go down on him but if something embarrassing happens, he needs atleast five minutes just to laugh it out. he doesnt do it in a mean-spirited way, ofcourse. he's just a silly little dude and that was funny.
💟hair:
on you: he literally doesn't care. it's totally your decision. if you wish to keep it shaved/trimmed, great but if you cannot be bothered, then that's more than fine too. he is more than excited just to have you to himself, he doesn't really care about anything more than that.
on himself: again, he doesn't really care. but incase you say that you wish he kept himself a certain way, then he'd go out of his way to pay heed to your preferences. your wish is his command.
💟intimacy (how romantic is he during it?):
luffy isn't a inherently romantic person. romance and love for him come in the form of small moments and acts of kindness rather than gigantic speeches and gestures. so in the traditional sense, he isn't romantic. but he will always make sure you're comfortable and feeling well. and to him, that is peak romance.
💟jack off:
he has a very very high sex drive and he quickly learnt that you can't exactly keep up with that so, he usually masturbates whenever it gets too much and you're not available. prefers your hands over his tho. so, like, he only does it himself if he absolutely needs to. otherwise, he would beg and whine till you please him.
💟kink:
food play (he loves you, he loves food, whats not clicking??) i think he definitely has a mommy kink (except he wont actually call you mommy. he's just act submissive and let you do whatever.) he loves to do whatever it is to please you when he's in that sub headspace but normally, he can get quite absorbed in the way he's feeling (especially when you're giving him head), so, dont blame him if he goes a teensy bit overboard.
💟location:
literally anywhere or planet earth or even beyond earth for that matter. just give him a surface to fuck you against and he'd handle the rest. in terms of favourite, i definitely think he's just sticking to the bed cause it keeps you comfortable and gives him enough safe, secure place to do whatever.
💟motivation (what gets them going):
anything and everything 😭🤭 his turn ons are so random. like you could be just chilling, talking to some crew member and suddenly he has this blinding urge to fuck you and there's nothing you can do about it.
💟no (things they are completely against):
although he's down with whatever, he won't do the classic stuff like scat, age play (extreme) or anything too disgusting. i think he's also pretty apprehensive about hitting you in bed cause he knows his strength and it feels against his entire moral code to hurt a woman. especially the woman he is in love with.
💟oral (prefer giving/receiving, how skilled are they?):
luffy goes both ways. he loves when you give him oral but he is also physically obsessed with you and will spend hours on end against your aching cunt, so, he likes going by turns. he doesn't even have to fuck you for real, just having his face pressed against your core as you rut on him is enough to make him cum in his pants. but since he's so impatient, i think he just prefers 69ing for the efficiency of it lmao (and also your moans feel so delicious against his weeping cock, please don't stop).
💟risk (how risky are they):
omg risk is the very essence of who luffy is. his risks are not even calculated, he just does shit that feels right to him. so, please do not object when you are exploring abandoned streets in an unknown island with him and he pines you against the wall and whines in that soft voice of his to have you right there and then. it also doesn't help that he doesn't feel embarrassed like ever. so, if you ever get caught he's just gonna laugh it off.
💟stamina:
ooooof, his stamina is insane!! can easily go a couple of rounds without feeling much fatigue. but he gets distracted easily, so fuck him before he gets too hungry to keep going lmao as for how long can he go for? i don't think he can hold off his orgasms for long, so, he cums fairly fast but he can push through it and keep going for a good while.
💟toys:
luffy didn't personally know much about toys till one night the boys got drunk and sanji asked them if any one of them owned a pocket pussy. he might have bought one the next time the landed on shore and well, he isn't afraid to admit that it's a handy little tool. but he doesn't know any more about toys than that. and he only got to know more once you started dating him and told him about it. he's not insecure to use toys during sex because he knows what he brings to the table. but he would pout if you fuck yourself with a toy instead of just asking him to give you some sweet sweet relief, so just dont do that mkay?
💟unfair (how much do they tease):
holy fucking shit this man LIVES to tease you. skimming touches, feathery kisses, endlessly toying with your cunt. he does it all. but do NOT tease him cause he can't stand it so, he would either lose patience and fuck you his way or he will get so overwhelmed that he would start whining and crying, begging you to ease up on him. both are good options tho 👍🏼
💟volume (are they vocal during it):
YES!! luffy is super vocal in bed. you make him feel great and he's not too shy to show it. i mean who tf will judge the would be king of the pirates?? he also adores your moans and whimpers too because all he wants is his pretty girl to feel good, obviously. (also when you tell him how good he's fucking you, that puts him over the edge because i just know he has a praise kink)
💟wild card (random headcanon):
luffy gets fucked out so easily. like literally, even if you have just been making out for like 5 mins then also his shirt will be halfway open, eyelids droopy, lips swollen, cheeks red, the whole sha-bam. so even if you both did nothing more than some pg-13 makeout, the entire crew will think you just fucked his brains out. evidence: 7th of august, 8:53 pm "ew." nami makes a face of disgust, "can you not do it before dinner? you're both nasty doin' it right before you see us." "we didn't do anything!!" you defend yourself before nudging luffy, "right luffy?" but he's in a daze, too blissful to say anything but: "uh yeahhh" ussop is holding sanji by the shirt like a rabid dog when zoro walks in. his eyes are lidden with sleep. he gives you and luffy a look before saying, "don't fuck before dinner, that's nasty." "we didN'T FUCK-"
💟x-ray (whats going on under those pants):
look he's the rubber man??? does it matter??? but no, i think he has a pretty decent size like im thinking 6" but definitely a bit more thinner. he also has a slight curve to it.
💟yearning (how high is there sex drive):
VERY HIGH. very fucking high. he's like an animal in heat or something except its all year long.
💟zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards):
he's passed out before you can say "that was so good" he's asleep and you should sleep too, you can compliment him when he wakes you up in the middle of the night for something or the other. go sleep. seriously. i see you reading smut on your screen. go sleep.
a/n: thinking i might make a sfw list too lol. if i do, ill add the link here! thankyouu to anyone who reads the stuff i write lol, you're the coolest
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deeranon · 1 month
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Troubling Travels | deer! Creator reader
Note: I’m kinda bad at writing fight scenes. Or…are there no fight scenes at all? :)
For @idkfitememate Hope you like it :D
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Cyno cursed like his life depended on it. Tighnari was going to kill him if he ever found out about this. That was, if he made it out alive, first.
It had started out like any other day. You were happily gathering leaves and sticks for your secret little hoard(that wasn’t very secret, Tighnari knew about everything) of weapons (that were not actually weapons) to be used on Dottore if he ever thought of stepping foot anywhere near Collei or Tighnari or any Sumeru character ever. Minus the sages, they were also going to be victims of your mighty stick-hoard if you ever saw them. (Yes, you were peaceful but some things could not be forgiven.)
Tighnari had given you the nickname “ورقة الشجر الصغيرة”, little leaf, a few weeks after you had persistently stuck around even after you had healed from the treasure hoarder attack. And it stuck surprisingly well. Now, as of today, you were unofficially-but officially in the hearts of all Gandharva Ville residents—“منظم الأوراق الرسمي وجامع الأوراق الرسمي”, the official leaf organizer and collector. As a sort of celebration for your “promotion” Tighnari had asked Cyno to come visit during your “first ever official leaf collecting mission” in a letter he had sent a few weeks back. Indeed, Tighnari had planned to promote you for some time now. But it was hard keeping you distracted while they secretly set up a surprise party. But they managed to succeed in the end.
The entire village was decorated with various flower garlands(all given the green light by Tighnari) and tables were filled to the brim with tasty food for both humans and deer. People chatted animatedly with one another as they ate and danced. You were content to stand on the sidelines with Collei, eating a delicious salad while the forest rangers weaved you and their friends flower crowns. Seeing others happy made you happy.
The promotion party went well into the evening, with multiple excursions led by you to gather more fruit from the forest.(Tighnari was so proud that you remembered which fruits he told you were safe to eat and which were not) And when Cyno arrived with his ever neutral looking beautiful face, you were sure you were about to faint from happiness.
You had pranced up to him with a specially made flower bracelet just for him. Okay-YOU didn’t make it, Collei weaved it for you because trying to make a flower bracelet with hooves is hard. Sometimes, you missed your hands. But this form had its perks. Like the headpats you got and the wonderfully therapeutic back rubs when Tighnari brushed your fur for you. But you certainly deserved points for somehow communicating to your dear friend Collei that you wanted to make a bracelet for someone. The purple flowers probably helped.
Cyno looked down at your happy doe-face, or as happy as a deer could look with a deer-face. You were preening so much Cyno swore he saw sparkles emanating from you. You held the flower bracelet on the top of your fluffy head between the place where your antlers were starting to grow in. It was made of purple dahila’s and anemones, he noted before picking the bracelet up and sliding it onto his wrist.
“Thank you, little one. I promise to keep it safe.” Cyno said, slowly reaching out a cautious hand. Like Tighnari had taught him to do with stray cats and dogs. Sure, you were a deer, but it still counted, right?
In reply, you let out a giddy bleat and shoved your head underneath his calloused hand with vigor. Cyno felt his lips twitch into a smile. This wasn’t your first time meeting Cyno, but he was always so busy enforcing the law as General Mahamatra that he rarely had time to visit. So time spent with the general was special. He was happy to know you were doing well. Tighnari wrote about you in his letters frequently.
You nuzzled into his touch for a moment longer before backing away and prancing off into the festivities, stopping to look back at him with an expectant look.
Come join me!
Cyno paused before following after you. He wasn’t one for large parties but you looked so happy that he couldn’t decline. Besides, Tighnari and Collei were chilling out somewhere, so he could always go find them after hanging out with you in the core of the festivities. Maybe then he could pick up on the Genius Invocation TCG match he was having with Tighnari and Collei last time he was here. Oh, and maybe he could teach you how to play? Wouldn’t that be something.
It was nightfall now. Everyone was tuckered out from the party, fast asleep in their beds. Well, all except for two people and a deer.
“You don’t have to see me off. You should go get some rest for tomorrow.” Cyno said, adjusting the strap that held his canteen to his belt. Both you and Tighnari sighed at this.
“It’s not like we’re forcing ourselves to see you off. We want to do this. And there’s nothing you can do to change our minds.” Tighnari huffed as he crossed his arms.
You stomped your hoof in agreement. You chose to see Cyno off in the middle of the night, even though you knew you had things to clean up tomorrow. You knew how rarely you had one on one Cyno bonding time, and Cyno was one of your favorite characters in Sumeru. His bravery and strength in the heat of battle was something you saw as admirable.
Besides, you never knew when you would see Cyno next, or if he would be okay on a mission. His job was dangerous, and sometimes that made you worry. If only you could go with him…
Wait a second.
You COULD go with Cyno!
While you were connecting the dots in your head, Cyno had gotten fully ready to head off. He gave Tighnari a nod before turning his attention to you, who stood at the fox-eared male’s side with the same happy expression you had on that evening. Cyno felt his heart squeeze at the sight. He would, admittedly, miss you while he was gone. This next mission was going to be a long one.
So, he kneeled down and gave you a gentle pat on the head. You let out a bleat and shoved your head under his chin(making him bite his tongue on accident) in a makeshift hug. Now would have been a nice time to have hands. But you were never one to complain much. Cyno gave a small smile and rubbed your back before starting to pull away. It was time for him to leave.
With a final delightful scratch behind your large fluffy deer ears, Cyno stood and started to walk away.
Only, he wasn’t alone.
You followed after him with a happy pep in your trot.
Cyno paused. Tighnari tried not to laugh. You shimmered like you had never shimmered before.
Cyno sighed and shook his head before pointing to the ground and stating “stay.” in his best commanding voice. Internally, Cyno knew it was futile attempting to order a deer around, when it obviously wasn’t going to understand him. You stared at him innocently. Cyno took it as a sign to start walking again. Only for you to follow(again).
This repeated multiple times. (Tighnari almost burst a lung from laughter, exhaustion was clearly getting to the usually calm and collected fox ranger)
“I think they want to go with you, Cyno.” Tighnari finally said. Cyno stared at Tighnari.
“Yes. I don’t think I noticed.” He huffed. You let out another call and ran circles around Cyno’s legs with excitement, and Cyno felt his heart soften. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to come with him, it was just that the desert was an incredibly dangerous place. Especially since you had no natural defenses. Not to mention your fur. You would bake like an egg on the sidewalk in the middle of a heatstroke in a matter of minutes. Cyno knew this, because Tighnari had the exact same problem. And he didn’t want to see you suffer.
Yet you seemed adamant about staying with him. Both could see that. Cyno didn’t know what to do. Should he find a way to keep you with Tighnari? Or let you follow him into the lonely desert?
Tighnari took Cyno’s silence as his cue to become the voice of reason. “I am not one for old tales, but it’s been said for hundreds of years that animals have an innate sense of danger. A sixth sense, even. Or sometimes called premonition. Whatever you want to call it, having a companion that can sense danger early on could be an invaluable asset to your missions, Cyno.” Cyno didn’t seem fully convinced. So Tighnari continued with a bit more seriousness than before. “Deer have around 297 million olfactory receptors, meaning their nose is better than any human’s or dog’s. Their eyes are also better than a human’s at night—and they detect movement faster than people, too. Deer can also hear high frequency sounds, and can move both ears in different directions at the same time. These assets are perfect for helping to track down thieves and rouges. And I’m positive you already know how intelligent little leaf is. Their level of understanding is basically unheard of.”
Cyno nodded, but his face was blank. “I know. But the desert is unforgiving to all. I’m just skeptical about how they might respond to the temperatures of the desert. I wouldn’t want them getting hurt if they can’t fight back.” You were after all, a deer. Sure, you had multiple advantages over Cyno in tracking abilities but you were still considered prey. It was a reasonable thought.
After all, how could they know that you were a human isekai’ed into a deer’s body?
But you were determined to go with Cyno. You rubbed your head into his legs pleadingly. As if to send the message that you would be alright.
Cyno instinctively ran his calloused hand through the fur on your neck, making you preen at the attention. You could tell he was standing on the edge of agreement. He just needed one last nudge.
“Let’s put it this way. I put the little leaf under your care and protection while in the desert so that you can help me record their reactions and adaptability in a different environment. They are, after all, an unknown species of deer. No deer recorded has natural markings like theirs in any document ever, so it’s imperative that we find out as much as we can about them so that we can learn more.” Tighnari reasoned, pointing to your lush furry coat that Cyno was carding through at that very moment. And he was correct. You did have a unique design. (Description below is optional)
Small splotches that looked almost like stars littered your neck and spine, with two small white diamond-like teardrops touching the corner of your eyes. Your eyes were more focused, like there was an actual thought going on inside your head instead of the soul devouring gaze a deer usually had. Your ears were fluffy and faded in an ombre fashion to an almost unnatural pitch black colour, as did your fluffy tail-except it faded to a snowy white. There was even a white four pointed star like the ones you see on a compass rose in the middle of your fluffy forehead.
Safe to say, you didn’t exactly look like a normal deer. “They could very well be the last of their kind, or they lost their parcel in some kind of accident before Collei and I found them. Whatever the case, we need more information to understand how we can help little leaf in the best way possible. Like putting protective laws up to keep them from harm.” Tighnari finished. And that seemed to convince Cyno immediately.
“Alright. I’ll bring them with me. And I swear on my life to keep them safe.” Cyno promised with a solemn nod. Tighnari huffed as he crossed his arms, smile barely hidden.
“You better. Now get going before I change my mind.” Tighnari snapped, making a ‘shoo’ motion with his hand. Cyno stood and gave another nod of respect before turning around and walking out of Gandharva Ville with you at his side. Just as you both walked out of earshot, and out of Tighnari’s sight, he murmured “Stay safe…” before turning around and heading for his hut. So that he could sleep his worries away.
And also because it was past midnight.
꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
You watched silently as Cyno set up camp behind a large rock that would block out most of the piercing grains of sand flying in the wind. It has been six days since you set off with the general mahamatra into the endless desert. And night was starting to fall. Which meant possible bandit attacks or wild animal attacks. Or maybe a mix of both. It was hard to tell these things before they happened. Minus bandit attacks. Cyno eliminated any human trouble before you could even catch a glimpse of the ruffians.
The wind howled ferociously at both you and Cyno, who seemed unfazed at the sand trying to stab into his eyes and turn him blind. And yet you almost didn’t feel the screaming wind yourself. Probably because of your wonderous coat of fur. Hopefully it wouldn’t be a headache to brush out later. It would add to Cyno’s work, which was already a hassle itself. Curse your lack of hands(once again). You watched as the sun slowly set and the sands cooled before your eyes, giving you reprieve from the sweltering heat. You were just glad you hadn’t grown your winter coat yet. That would have been a nightmare.
The night rose, eclipsing the golden sky as Cyno finished setting up the tent. Yet something felt off. Like when you glance at a picture and then leave, only to return and realize something is different about it but you can’t tell what it is. It was an unsettling feeling in the back of your head that wouldn’t go away.
Cyno seemed to feel it as well, his gaze was dead set on the hills of sand. You stared out at the vast sea, ears perked and swiveling like satellites. But there was nothing odd that you could sense, only the rising wind. You sniffed at the air next. Immediately your nose was rushed with a million different scents, all leading to something different than the last. It had greatly confused you when you first awoke to so many new smells, but over time it became easier to sort them out. Now, your nose was a valuable tool.
And right now, the air crackled with the scent of rain.
You let out a sigh of both relief and disappointment before trotting through the tarp entrance of the tent. Cyno continued to stare at the dunes with an unnerving gaze before turning to follow you inside. But not before grabbing his pike and surveying the area protectively. Just to make sure.
The wind was so angry and wild that you were almost certain your ears were going to bleed out. The rain had arrived with the sandstorm an hour after Cyno had managed to set the camp tent up, meaning you were both lucky enough to not get absolutely clobbered by the bullet-like water droplets.
You could hear nothing but the persistent rain and the raging wind of the midnight storm.
And that meant you couldn’t hear the footsteps approaching with each clap of thunder.
But Cyno knew every trick in the book. Nothing would escape his senses. Not when he had someone important to protect with him. You blearily watched as he tightened his grip on his weapon from where he sat with your fuzzy head in his lap, drowsy from exhaustion. He gently lifted your head from his legs, trading them out for the second of two blankets he had packed for the journey.
Next thing you knew, Cyno was rushing out of the tent like it had been set on fire.
Your mind was hazy from what little sleep you had mustered, so his reaction didn’t fully compute in your brain for multiple minutes before you rushed to your shaky legs. Having four legs instead of two had certainly been a challenge at first, and still was when you weren’t focused or completely energized. So you couldn’t help but berate yourself silently as you wobbled like a drunkard ready to pass out before you made it to the tent flap.
Outside, Cyno was fighting three mercenaries dressed in red in the rain at once. All had sun kissed skin and brownish-black hair, but they used different weapons, meaning Cyno had to duel three different battles all at once. One used a spear, the second had a crossbow with odd smelling arrows, while the third held a metal axe so big you were convinced it better belonged with a mitachurl.
Cyno swung his pizza paddle polearm through the air like it was an extension of himself, blocking a heavy swing coming from the axe-wielder with the shaft of his weapon that glowed amber in the dark night. A whistle sounded through the air as an arrow shot through the sky, bringing its horribly odd scent with it.
You watched, mortified at the realization that Cyno might get hit with what you now realized was an arrow tipped in poison. Time seemed to slow as Cyno turned his head at the sound of the arrow whistling while simultaneously swinging at the axe-wielder and striking him in his chest, ripping through the man’s skin like it was butter. The large man crumpled to the sand. But that wasn’t the end. Just as the arrow was about to strike Cyno’s shoulder, he let out a growl and electro crackled through the air.
“Futile!”
Cyno lunged forward and snapped the arrow into a thousand tiny pieces before leaping at the crossbow user and kicking the weapon out of his hands.
The man let out a yelp that turned into a scream as large bolts of bright purple lightning wracked his body. Cyno was holding the man’s shoulder in an iron grip, using himself like a taser. The male let out a final wail before he slumped over, either dead or unconscious.
For a single second, all was silent.
Then, there was a war cry piercing the air. The third man, the one with the spear, had jumped from the top of a rock and was plummeting down to Cyno with murderous intent.
But Cyno was not fazed.
“Your sins weigh upon your soul!”
There was a sudden explosion of light around Cyno as his vision burned bright in the endless pitch black night. His body was swathed in glowing purple binds that circled and looped into large claw-like hands sharper than any dagger or sword. Runes in an ancient unknown language were burned into the glowing cloth that snaked around his arms. The headpiece glowed with the same runes as eyes, now open and uncovered, shone with golden light. An ominous had aura surrounded Cyno as he called for the divine spirit to indwell him. Now, that aura turned into furious electricity that snapped and swatted at its enemies.
The man with the spear screamed as an elongated electro arm of Pactsworn Pathclearer reached out and grabbed him from mid air. He tried to use his spear to pierce the hand that held him, but it merely broke into minuscule shards the moment it even grazed the claws. In retaliation, it’s grip tightened significantly before it flung the man to the ground, where his head hit a rock with a sickening crack.
And just like that, the battle was over. Three bodies laid in the sand, defeated. There were no more attackers left for Cyno to defeat.
Or at least, that’s what Cyno thought in the second he had let his guard down. Electro fizzling out around him.
You knew otherwise.
Ten more figures emerged from beyond the dunes.
But you were more worried about the sniper with poison tipped arrows and a bow who was aiming right for Cyno at that very moment.
With a bleat, you rushed up the cliff side faster than you had ever run before. Rain still pelleted you like knives as thunder rumbled in the sky high above you. But you continued to run.
The sniper drew the bowstring to the tip of his mouth.
You scrambled to the top of the cliff on shaky legs, making a mad dash for the archer who was so incredibly focused on aiming he didn’t even notice the sound of your pounding hooves as they kicked up sand. Your body hidden in the blackness of night. He would never see you coming.
Cyno stood below, head whipping around as he looked for you frantically. The moon was halfway to approaching midnight but it was already almost pitch black. The rain was no help, either.
The best thing Cyno could do right now is focus on the incoming targets. Their footsteps against the sand were in no way trying to be hidden, and the sickening feeling Cyno was sensing set him on edge.
Cyno’s mind was a flurry of different emotions, but if he wanted to stay alive long enough to look for you and complete his mission, he had to focus on the fight in front of him. So he readied his spear and crouched, gathering all the energy he could into his legs as the waited for the enemies to strike.
Just like Cyno expected, they lunged for him with weapons in hand in a consecutive attack. But Cyno was more than ready. After all, what kind of general mahamatra would he be if he couldn’t defeat ten people? Admittedly, he had never fought ten on one at the same time before and in almost total darkness while it stormed heavily. But there was a first time for everything, right?
The sniper smirked, homing in on his target with horrid mirth twinkling in his eyes. His comrades had surrounded Cyno in a circle, caging him in as he jumped from one fight to another. Though many were beaten and bruised, it did not matter if they fell. For they were merely a distraction so that he may make the shot that would end the wretched general mahamatra Cyno once and for all. His heart beat giddily in his ears as his fingers started to loosen their grip on the poison tipped arrow aimed right at Cyno’s heart.
Though it will not be beating for much longer his mind purred.
Pure thrill pulsed through his veins as he his fingers slowly slip from the bowstring. His heart beat spiked just as his fingers slid from the string, only to let out a mighty howl of pain as something crashed into his shoulder, sending him teetering on the cliff face, his right hand flailing and his toes grazed air. There was a snap as the bowstring thrummed against whatever crashed into him with such force. He let out a colourful string of curses when he realized his aim had been jarred into missing Cyno’s heart.
So when he looked down at the perpetrator:
he saw a deer.
His rage increased tenfold and he let out a furious yowl, gripping onto the creature’s neck as it rushed at him once again. It cried out as they both went careening off the edge of a tall cliff. But the man only smiled manically.
If he could not kill his target, he would take with him the life that tried to protect it. Even if it meant meeting his end.
“NO!”
There was a cry, but it was swept into the whistling wind.
There was a sharp pain in the back of his head.
Then, everything went dark.
Cyno huffed, glaring at the mercenaries with cold eyes as he tightened his grip on his polearm once again. Rain had somehow made it past his visor and onto his face, but he couldn’t care less.
He readied himself to fight once again when there was a loud scream echoing through the desert.
Only seconds after, an arrow shot through the air.
Slicing off Cyno’s bracelet of flowers.
There was another cry. But it was inhuman. Cyno whipped around, heart racing as his eyes caught sight of a man dragging you off of a cliff so high he knew there was likely no chance you were going to survive the fall alive.
“NO!” He screamed, rushing forward. Maybe he could catch you before you hit the ground. But it was futile. The ring of mercenaries would not let him leave.
His wrist felt horribly bare without the bracelet there to occupy it.
Cyno cursed like his life depended on it. Tighnari was going to kill him if he ever found out about this. That was, if he made it out alive, first.
You closed your teary eyes tight as you and the man’s body tumbled through the air. The wind screamed and thunder wailed, and for a split second you could hear nothing. Everything around you was surely passing in a blur.
This was going to hurt. A lot. If you even made it out alive. But what could you do to stay alive and keep the man from getting killed? You didn’t mean to push him off the cliff!
Time seemed to slow as your mind rushed to think of any possible solution. But only scraps of a plan formed.
Whatever!
There isn’t enough time to plan!
Do something before you both die!
So you opened your eyes and winged it.
You bunched your limbs close to your chest and then kicked them straight into the insane man’s chest, making him wheeze but also sending him crashing into a miraculously small ledge head first.
You were accidentally sent flying into the open mouth of a large cave from the force you had put into the kick. A searing pain ripped into your shoulder as you started to loose altitude and fall to the cave floor. A rock had sliced your shoulder open, leaving a blood stain on the rock and a small waterfall of blood trickling down your fur. You let out a cry of pain as you tumbled into the ground blanketed by a thin layer of sand.
You were beaten, but you were alive! Hooray!
The world outside of the cave raged with almost killer intent as the storm grew worse and lightning started to strike as the wind screamed. It was best to stay in the cave until it cooled over, you wisely decided.
You lifted your head at the sound of rumbling from further within the cave, making your ears swivel and your nose twitch. If there was something dangerous deeper in the cave you would rather take your chances with the storm outside.
But all you could smell was the faint scent of dried herbs and burnt fire wood. Which wasn’t very normal for a cave at all. You knew it would be a better idea to stay near the mouth of the cave, but you were injured and your fur was uncomfortably wet and all you wanted at the moment was something to warm yourself up while you waited for the storm to end so that you could look for Cyno.
So with a great heave, you lifted yourself onto your four wobbly legs and adventured deeper into the cave. Your shoulder throbbed with spite as you moved, but you ignored it and continued on.
You limped through a long tunnel filled with iron ore and an unlit stove ,as well as crystals of all colours, making you silently awe at the sight as you passed into a wide cavern filled with luscious green trees and red vultures that hopped branch to branch. Rocks mysteriously started to float in the air the further you walked into the great cavern. As did a bright white light.
By the time you had reached the far end of the cavern, the light was almost blinding. You squinted to make out anything but the tunnel branching deeper into the earth would not yet reveal its secrets to you.
There was another rumble.
The scent of dried herbs grew stronger the longer you stood in front of the glowing tunnel, too nervous to move. A distant feeling of familiarity tickled the back of your mind as your eyes darted around the area nervously. The vultures seemed ignorant as the ground shook, so surely there was no danger nearby. You took a shaky hoof-step back as the walls started to tremble as well. Your ears went flat as you glanced back to the tunnel from whence you came.
Should you leave?
But you could still hear the roar of thunder outside, meaning the storm had yet to stop. No. You could end up getting killed in the storm if you weren’t careful. And your wound still throbbed. It was best to stay in the cave. Though maybe you should just stay near the entrance. Yes, that sounded like a good idea.
You turned your head back around only to be greeted with a long snout sniffing at your fur where the tunnel should have been.
You let out a bleat of surprise and jumped several feet in the air, heart racing.
Then, it hit you.
This was the tunnel to Apep’s den.
And right before you was Apep. Or—it’s head, at least. The tunnel was much too small for its large serpentine-like body to fully fit through.
Oh. So Apep was the one giving off the dried herb smell. That…made sense, actually.
Apep stared down at you with its large glowing eyes that lit up the earth in a gentle glow.
“It has been quite a long time since I have last seen you, Mother. I am overjoyed to know that you are alive and well after all this time.” Apep said, voice gentle and lulling. A stark contrast to what you had heard from behind a screen.
You could only stand shocked, unable to think.
Apep stared at your frozen form with a sad gaze, sighing through it’s nose sadly(if that was even possible). “Ah, I see you do not remember. But that is to be expected after all that happened back then.” Apep paused to lower it’s head to the ground and nudge your furry cheek gently with it’s own. “You are the Creator of Teyvat. So you are Divine Mother of all. Though how I see it, only the mighty dragons like myself should be allowed to call you Mother. For we were the first. But perhaps your tastes have changed over the time you were gone. Shall I call you Divine One, one of your many titles?”
Apep’s words barely made sense to you right now. But one thing you knew very well.
Apep had called you the divine creator of Teyvat.
But truly, you wanted nothing more than to just be called by your name. No tittle needed. Maybe it was because Apep’s words had yet to sink in or you didn’t wish to be put upon a pedestal. Or maybe because you were a truly kind being to all. (This was really starting to feel like one of the SAGAU! fanfictions you liked to read in your free time) (and also because you didn’t want Arlechino to come after you)
But how were you going to get that across to Apep?
You let out a bleat.
The lights all along Apep’s sides glowed in recognition as it’s eyes somehow grew kinder and happier.
“I understand. That is a lovely name. May I truly be allowed to call you by it?” Apep said. You nodded. You would like nothing more than for Apep to call your by name. “Very well. Now, how is it that we have come to meet after all this time?”
And so, you told Apep everything that happened in the past week.
And it had some very strong words to say about some things. But Apep promised that once the storm passed it would make sure you reunited with Cyno.
And you did. Cyno did not physically show the worry on his face but he never let you out of his sight for the rest of the mission. Even as he dragged an unconscious rouge researcher behind him with an iron grip.
It was also safe to say, Cyno got a good scolding from Tighnari when you returned to Gandharva Ville.
╚⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤╝
295 notes · View notes
bexalert · 7 months
Text
Stardust crusaders having a crush on you
(Jotaro Kujo, Noriaki Kakyoin, Jean Pierre Polnareff, Mohammed Avdol)
Stardust Crusader stuff because I just finished part V and I miss them 😔
Also, I started this a WHILE ago, and it’s just been sitting in my drafts, so here you go.
I’ll also probably be making something for part V soon because I love them all. My accounts about to just become Jojo I’m so sorry 😭
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Jotaro Kujo:
• He’s such a sweetie (he will literally ignore you)
• He doesn’t know how to just care about people??? So he won’t say anything
• But he will be very protective of you
• Atleast he’s not insulting you 😭
• He’ll just be watching you at all times, making sure you’re ok.
• He gets flustered, and then gets more flustered since he’s flustered
• Not that most people would notice
• He just starts sweating a bit and looks away.
• but you know who’s NOT shy???
• Star Platinum will not hesitate to play with your hair, stand by you, stare at you
• Obviously Jotaro will try to control him, but sometimes it just subconsciously happens
• He gets frustrated because people (POLNAREFF COUGH COUGH) will tease him
• But he bluffs well enough so you can’t tell
• When he does ask you on a date (if he does)
• It’s short, and almost a demand 😭
• “Go out with me.”
• He moves his hat so that you can’t see his face
• But he’s lowkey shaking
• Bro could defeat dio, multiple other stand users, and stop time without breaking a sweat, but when it comes to you?
• He’s just very out of his element, give my boy a chance
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Noriaki Kakyoin:
• He’s just naturally so charming
• Especially if you’re around Jotaro and you’re a woman 😭
• He’ll comfort you if Jotaro makes any rude remarks
• “Pay him no mind.”
• He acts like you don’t affect him as much as you do
• But not to the point of being rude to you.
• He tries to impress you, but might not even realize he’s doing it
• Like he’ll do something cool and then immediately look to you to see if you saw him
• Might act just a smidge more charming
• Oh you need to walk through this door? He’ll open it for you. You’re having a seat? Here, let him pull your chair out for you. There’s a puddle? Oh, don’t get your shoes wet! He can carry you across- for your safety of course!
• He’s very polite, and respects you so much
• Always want to hear your input
• What do YOU think is the best route? Which hotel do YOU like?
• “What do you think, Y/N?”
• Just cares about you very much.
• He’ll be confident but humble when he asks you out
• “Y/N, I like you. Would you go on a date with me?”
• He’s shaking in his boots
• He just always has this content smile when he’s with you.
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Jean Pierre Polnareff:
• Oh brother we got ourselves a yapper 😭
• Everyone knows he likes you
• It is absolutely not a secret
• You just assume he’s joking, or think he doesn’t really mean it
• But he is DEAD serious
• Shameless simp- he doesn’t care who makes fun of him
• “Ah, Y/N, do you need help with that? I’ll help!”
• You didn’t need help, he just can’t stand to see you working
• “Mon amour, someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t have to do work like this. Hohoho! leave it to me!”
• He’s incredibly corny and will say the cringiest things at any time.
• “Ah! You’re eyes are as beautiful and shiny are Silver Chariots armor!”
• and you’re just like thanks???? I guess???
• He will ask you out constantly. Just got done fighting? He’ll ask you out to cuddle in his sleeping mat (and also proclaim his undying love) you’re hungry? Please! Let him take you out to eat (and proclaim his undying love) you said you’re tired? He’ll ask you if he can carry you (and of course proclaim his undying love)
• When you finally take it seriously enough to give him a chance, he is over the moon
• He’s telling everyone
• “they said yes! We’re dating!”
• He’s so head over heels and just adores you
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Mohammad Avdol:
• Dude he is SWEATING
• Like you won’t notice because he’s very calm and collected, but he’s freaking out
• It also doesn’t help that Magicians Red always comes out when you’re around, and he just keeps getting hotter.
• Like if you’re having a long conversation with Avdol, it will just progressively get more hot
• He tries desperately to keep Magicians Red under wraps, and for the most part he does
• But he gets so embarrassed when he cant
• He’s super respectful, like feels bad for even liking you
• He thinks he’s being gross for thinking of you like that especially if he doesn’t think you like him 😭
• He feels embarrassed outright asking to just have a conversation with you, so he always tries to cover it up with something else
• “Y/N, do you mind helping me read this?”
• HE COULD READ IT!!! He just wanted an excuse to talk to you ☹️
• Since he’s also the groups stand teacher, he’ll use his knowledge to his advantage
• Like you’ll made some off comment about “hmm wonder why that happened.” And he’s going into nerd mode
• 🤓☝️ “Actually when a stand user…”
• Like it was not necessary for him to go off like that, but the way you listen so intently makes his heart flutter.
• if you take his advice into account or say something reminded you of him, he is DEAD
• You actually thought about him, even just for one second, and that is wild to him
• He is also a simp, but no one would notice. Pouring your tea for you, helping set up your mat, bandaging your wounds, etc.
• You just think he’s being a good friend
• When he finally asks you out, he’s so flustered, but tries to keep calm.
• “Y/N, when this is all over I would like to take you on a date. Is that ok?”
• He’s just the sweetest nicest big ol’ teddy bear.
795 notes · View notes
kitasgloves · 5 months
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Imagine, SAKUSA KIYOOMI, your husband for over a year, sees you relaxing on the couch watching videos on tiktok. He lovingly spies on you until he notices the types of videos popping up on your fyp. It's all filled with laughing babies & children, every video makes you laugh and smile endearingly. But Sakusa's blood went cold.
Oh no
He thinks. This is bad. He might be overreacting but there's no way he's going to let you develop baby fever. Nope, hell no. He's not prepared to have children. So, he orchestrates a plan.
While you were showering, you accidentally left your phone unlocked so Sakusa has access to your tiktok. To his horror, all your liked videos are sickingly cute babies and toddlers. He has to change your fyp. So he searches up the most absurd videos available and taps on every single one of them, hoping it would cleanse your fyp and prevent the baby fever from developing.
You didn't even suspect a thing after you exited the bathroom, your husband is on the bed, eyes buried in a book, overlooking how it's upsidedown. The next time Sakusa spies on you, he's relieved that your fyp isn't filled with cooing babies and children. However, what replaced those videos are thirst traps of people working out in the gym. Sakusa's blood boiled hot, especially when you were secretly liking the videos and even saving them into your bookmarks. The way you bite your lip to fight off a smile made his eye twitch.
Sakusa is aware what jealousy feels like, he thinks it's ridiculous but look at him now succumbing to it. He tries to sneakily change the content on your fyp again but this time your phone is locked. So, he grows distant, unintentionally being less touchy than he usually is. And you notice.
"Omi baby are you mad at me?"
You pout, he doesn't answer as he faces away from you on the bed. You couldn't sleep at night without his arms holding you. As you try to scoot closer and gently grab him, he firmly peels your hands away. You frown, but decided to give him some space. When you stopped persisting, Sakusa grew worried.
He turns around and sees you facing away, cuddling a pillow instead. He suddenly feels terrible. Sakusa quietly goes over to you and kisses your temple before wrapping his arms around you like he always does. Surprisingly, you were awake as you ditched the pillow and hugged him back.
"Sorry for ignoring you darling, I was being childish"
"Aw, it's alright Kiyoomi"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure!"
"Do you...do you want to start a family with me?"
You pull away to give him a bewildered look. You looked genuinely shocked.
"Huh? What?"
"Do...uh...do you want to have a baby with me?"
"Oh! Oh god no! I'm not ready for that responsibility yet, honey"
You smiled brightly and it makes Sakusa relieved. He decides to come clean to what he has done, all you did was laugh and wheeze at him and call him silly.
"You didn't like me getting baby fever?"
"[Name] I don't know how to take care a child"
"And you got jealous when I liked all those gym thirst traps?"
"I don't get the appeal of it. It's just people flexing their muscles while covered in sweat"
"Well, it's kinda hot for me"
Sakusa furrowed his eyebrows and pouts adorably at you.
"If that's what you're into, you could've told me. I wouldn't mind sending you a stupid video after a workout at the gym"
"OH MY GOD YES!"
You squealed. Sakusa scoffs but laughs at you. Since that day, he has made daily videos or "thirst traps" of him at the gym and send them to you. And you'd collect them like rocks and place them in a secret flashdrive for research purposes *wink* *wink*
Bonus: Sakusa asking Atsumu and Bokuto at the gym on how to make a thirst trap for you and he gets a full educational course about it. Day by day his videos get better and you just melt and gush at how fucking hot your husband is.
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thefandomdirtymind · 7 months
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Shiny offering
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OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji
Sanji Series - NSFW The small favor
A/N IMPORTANT: I am the little weirdo who's like crows and though that a pirate with a crow would be really cool. So, I'm really sorry if you're scare of bird, but I hope you will find the story funny because I have a lot of fun with it and my new obsession for this man.
* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  
If you enjoy my story please let me know.
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Sanji never had a particular interest in birds. At least not living ones. Once featherless, beheaded and ready to be cooked. He, of course, has a lot of thoughts and recipes about how to prepare them, each idea more delicious than the other. 
But, as the Crow expanded his wings and flew above him for the fifth time that day. He started to wonder if the black bird meat would taste more like chicken and then, be better in a rotisserie kind of dish, or would it be surprisingly more delicate, like the duck. 
A mystery he would probably never know even if he could. Or if he did, not with this precise bird. Because, even if the blond never had a thought about the feathered animal, he has a lot of interest in you and, as irritating as it is, your crow seems to dislike him as much as Zoro does. 
He didn’t attack him directly of course, you would never let this happen. 
Yet, if Sanji is too close to you when you're all on the deck or if you share a moment alone with the cook. The damn winged dinosaur never missed a beat stealing his, lite or not, cigarette that was in his hand or between his lips.
The bird has often even tried to take his ring, but, to this day, never succeeded. However his favorite target was his blonde hair. Golden straw that he could pick few at the time between his beck before flying away as quickly as he could. 
Everytime, as you tried without success to not laugh. Biting your lips in that charming way he liked so much. You assure him that Deimos didn’t really hate him, he was  just a little bit too protective or attracted to the shiny thing on his person. Like humans he needs time to adjust to new people. 
“ I understand Madam, but I don’t see stealing Zoro shinny earring neither and that be a show I would love to see “ He once replied, trying to repress the bitterness in his tone, massaging the sore spot on his head where Deimos had took three of his hair.
“Well, Zoro didn’t have hair similar to pretty rays of sunshine, that’s for sure and I honestly don’t know, they seem to already be best buddy that kinda funny “ You said, your gaze fixed on the strange duo that was Zoro and your pet, napping in a hammock between two Tangerine trees. 
“ That because they have something in common, they both hate me that’s why” 
“ You know, Crows love to collect things who shine and offer them to their partner or their favorite human. Once a crow trusts you, he or his children never forget you, they have a memory that they extend to their children for generations and they will always return to you. It’s amazing”  
“ Then Madam it seem that I will be hate for generation “       
It has been almost five months now that you were a member of the crew and the relentless animal didn’t stop. Although, Sanji couldn’t forget that conversation that you had about those damn birds offering shining things to the person they affectionate. The way you smiled, the gleam in your eyes as if you were sharing that fun fact like if it was a romantic story. Even if it was an anodin moment, he couldn’t forget how perfect you were. Relax, your arm crossed on the railing of the upper deck in the soft light of the morning. 
It wasn’t a secret that the blondie fell for you at the minute that he saw you. He had tried to flirt as much as he could, challenged your taste buds by making you his best dishes and even switched his generic “Madam” for a warmer nickname “ mon coeur”. A sweet name he uses, usually as often as he calls himself the Best Cook of the East blue. 
“ Mon coeur, do you want a kind of food in particular for supper ?” 
“ Be careful Mon coeur, the tea is hot” 
“ You see Mon coeur, one day I will see the All Blue and I will explore it with you ”  
But, nothing had seemed to enlighten your comprehension about his intention. Of course, a more direct approach would give him an immediate answer, still, like in his cooking, Sanji liked a more slow and progressive approche.
It was when thinking about his next move that the strange event occurred.
Busy in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for his famous beef stew, the man suddenly heard a metallic noise, like a utensil falling on the floor. As a chef, it wasn't uncommon, but since he was alone in the room and all his instruments were in front of him, it was indeed, really strange. It was only after his gaze had scanned the room that he finally saw it. 
Perched on the side of the table, under the open window, the dark bird, a spoon in his beck, was watching the floor where a solitary fork was laying.
“ Oh no sir, this place is my domain you will not ruin it, get out” He exclaimed, not without thinking of how ridiculous he must look, talking at this bird like if he was a rude client of the Baratie.
For answer, Deimos only croak once, jumps between two potatoes just in front of him, turns his onyx head on the side and then, under the blue glare of the men, drops the polished spoon. 
The eating tool in itself wasn’t really special, unless the fact that it had been lost two weeks ago, along the fallen fork of course.   
“ Oh so now you steal my utensil. My hair and my smoke wasn’t enough ?” Sanji sighs before reaching for the discarded silver instrument. 
For answer, the crow slowly approached his head to the metallic object and started to admire his own smaller reflection before taking his fly, exiting the kitchen.
Coming back after less than five minutes later, this time with a shimmering shell and one of Nami small hair clips. Same as the spoon, he gently drops them in front of the blonde man, tilling his head, like he is waiting for something.
Like said before, Sanji never had a soft spot for birds, but he had a fond memory of that conversation with you about the way they express their affection. So, little by little, as he watched one by one the glittery, polish, shimmery stuff your crow just bought him, two realizations struck him. First, the damn feathers dinosaur has finally taken a liking for him and second he finally knew how to show you how dear you are in his eyes. 
“ Well, I almost regret now that I imagine you many times in my oven. I admit that you don't seem that bad alive now…thank you” Sanji smiled, putting the stew on the stove, letting it cook and before starting collecting the item for his new plan.   
It was only a long time after dinner that he could put his said plan in action. With a little help from his now winged friend.
As the Going Merry was lazily crossing the water, Sanji was still again in the kitchen, preparing diverse elements. To citrus marinade for supper the next day, to dry leaf for future recipes.  
Nevertheless, he was ready when the flap of the wing followed by footsteps could be heard near his area.  
Deimos was the first to enter the kitchen, taking his now usual place in the left corner of the kitchen island, your bracelet still on his beck. Close by a few steps, you enter at his pursuit, stopping only when you seen the strange show that was the gorgeous chef ,slowly busy pressing a lemon and your large pet, sharing the same space without apparent bickering.
“ Hi Sanji, sorry to barge in there like that. Deimos feels apparently playful today, he stole my bracelet. But look at you both, you finally bound as I can see” You joyfully said, taking a seat in front of the kitchen island. 
“ Hello Mon coeur, well as you can see we came to an arrangement if I can call it that. " Sanji replied, pulling an almond from his pocket and giving it to the bird as he rescued your bracelet “ But I’m grateful that he bring you here now, I also had something for you, a special dessert”  
Turning his back from you for a minute, missing the long glance you give to his perfect ass in his tailored pants, you smile. You weren't stupid, in fact, you were particularly smart. Even if you didn’t understand why Usopp had taken a habit of joking about the fact that you seem blind to love. 
You had noticed the blonde chef the first day on this boat and since then, had developpe what Nami had called a “crush” on him. What’s not love about him ? You like the way he calls you Mon coeur making yours fluster, the way his smile reaches his eyes every time he talks about food and of course the fact that he was always so kind with you. But never you would push those thoughts on him, no, it seems that all his love was for food and as long as you live you will respect that.
The first thing you saw after the blondie had put the bowl in front of you was the beauty of the presentation. Served in a plain white bowl, a delicate pale lilac ice cream was piled, decorated with colorful berries that automatically make your mouth water.
However it wasn’t the berries who’s most caught your eyes. Coating there the side of a raspberry, there in a few pieces the side of the cold cream, there floating lazily like if it were on a river, small gold flakes was highlighting the sweet, giving it the allure of a masterpiece. 
“ Homemade lavender ice cream with berries assorted with flakes of edible gold “ Sanji proudly present, your favorite smile on his lips. “ I had the idea when we were talking about crows and their habit of giving their partner or…favorite person…shiny things” He lied. Never would he admit to you that your bird, trying to fancy him, gave him the idea.  Never on his chef corpse.
“ Sanji, that’s almost too beautiful to eat. The colors, the sweet smell , the…glittery gold” You admiratively said, your joy suddenly catching up with the realization of what he had just said. 
You were his favorite person. 
Lifting at the same time your gaze and the spoon, you take a small amount of the ice cream and taste his declaration of love. 
Just like him it was amazing. Sweet, refreshing and addictive. 
“ So...is that to your liking ? “ He inquired after a small moment, unsure if you taken your time to enjoy the dessert or trying to find a delicate way to put him down. 
“ It’s the best thing I ever tasted, here take a bite “ You offer, lifting the silverware at the level of his mouth. 
Taking your offering, your gaze lock on each other, you both couldn’t repress your smile as he let slip the head of the spoon out of his mouth. 
“ Definitely one of my be…” He couldn’t finish. 
His tie caught on your fist, his torso inclined and supported by his strong arms above the kitchen island. Your cold lips had suddenly crashed against his, taking him off guard and at the same time his breath away. 
Sanji, still ,quickly catch up. Adjusting his position to support the back of your head with one of his hands. He slightly brushes his tongues against your sugary lips, savoring them like a peculiar delicacy. But, as your tongue met, exploring and dancing against each other in a french ritual. He became more and more greedy of your lips, throwing away his usual self control at the first hearing of your panting breath. 
Still trapped in the warm embrace of his lips, enjoying the contrast of his warm tongue against your ice cream cold one, you suddenly heard a groan pronounced by none of you. 
“ Great, now the waiter will stop looking like a love sick puppy. But did you really have to expose us to that ?”
Breaking the kiss, you gave a glance at the door where Zoro, his arm crossed on his chest, was rolling his eyes, clearly already done with both of you. 
Biting your lips of embarrassment you still couldn’t prevented, neither Sanji at it seem, to smile. 
“ Nevermind. Come on black chicken “ He calls your bird, who, now used to it ,goes perch himself on one of his shoulders. Before quitting the doorframe to disappear into the ship “ I have to clean my blade and I know they are not clean enough until you watch your reflection in it. “ 
Laughing at the incongruous friendship of the Swordsman and your pet. You returned your attention to Sanji, another tea spoon of ice cream in his hand.
“I’m sorry” You apologize, still laughing. 
“ No need to be embarrassed Mon coeur “ He smile, regaining as it seem, his composure
“ No, I mean, now I don’t know what I prefer between the dessert or your kisses “ 
Taken aback, Sanji slowly smiles, deposing a small kiss on your lips. 
“ Then why not enjoy them both together…I will gladly supply it every time you ask for it”
Smiling you then proceeded to enjoy the delicious cold dessert and the body warm contrast for the rest of the day and more.  
Bonus : 
Not that Sanji was ashamed to tell you, no. But, even after a year after the event of the offering silverware et other shiny knick-knacks.
He still had, hide behind a pile of pots, the many items brought to him, along the years, by Deimos. Because, even after all this, he was still the reason why you were finally in his arms at night and yes, he had to admit it, he had kind of come to like it, that damn bird. 
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hornedqueenofhell · 8 months
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Steddie Sick fic pt. 3
Pt 2
When they make it to the parking lot Steve is clearly having a time freeing himself from octopus Eddie who has decided to latch onto Steve with a single-minded determination. Gareth wishes he had a camera.
He can’t see what Harrington does to make Eddie let go but whatever it was was very effective as Eddie finally releases his grip and allows Steve to lay him down in the backseat. Dustin hands his keys back and accepts a hug from Steve before the freshman trots back over to them as Jonathan pulls into the parking lot. The boys wave to each other and then Steve is gone, taking Eddie with him.
“You think he’ll be okay?” Grant asks worriedly, they did just hand Eddie the Freak Munson, weak as a kitten, off to King Steve. The enormity of what just happened starts to hit them all and they start to panic.
“Oh fuck, oh god what if he kills him?”
“He wouldn’t do that right? The kids wouldn’t have called him if he would, right?!”
A sharp whistle cuts them off and they all turn to Lucas who pulls his fingers from his mouth, he gives them all a disappointed look, his hands settling on his hips like a small, angry soccer mom. “Steve is getting certified as an EMT. He’ll keep Eddie safe.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?” Gareth explodes, he was ready to tear his hair out worried about his friend.
“Steve doesn’t know that we know.” Mike says as he hands Dustin his backpack, Will is already off to go talk to his brother.
“Huh?” The band collectively replies.
“He’s scared he’ll fail. Doesn’t want to tell anyone until he’s sworn in, like there’s any chance he won’t be top of his class. He doesn’t know that we all know already, we’re planning a big party for him once he graduates. Of course Dustin has all the subtlety of a brick to the face so how Steve hasn’t figured out that he knows yet is the real surprise.” Lucas explains, giving Dustin some major side eye.
“Hey!”
Well that was kinda reassuring, didn’t people who did medical stuff have to take a vow to not hurt people or something like that?
“What’s going to happen when Eddie wakes up?” Oh boy.
~O~
Munson was scary light as Steve got him through the front door and onto the couch. He’d mumbled a few things into Steve’s neck when he got jostled as Steve kicked the front door closed behind them but settled down again shortly after.
“What was that?” He asked as he pushed Munson’s sweaty hair off his forehead.
“Had… dream…like this.” He mumbles and yeah Steve needs to get his fever down. He walks into the kitchen and finds a frozen bag of peas he used to use for sports injuries and after wrapping it up with a towel from the stove he plops the bag on Munson's face.
"Blindfolding me 'lready, sssso bold."
“You really never shut up do you?” He rests one arm on the couch arm, chin propped on the other with a slight smirk. He leans over Eddie and watches as the older boy drags the bag of peas to his chest to hold against his overheated core and blinks up at him with foggy, wet bambi eyes.
“C’n think… a feww ‘ays.” Munson tries to give him a flirty look back but his fever makes him uncoordinated so it looks more like his face just scrunches up uncomfortably. It makes Steve chuckle softly and Eddie lights up in response.
“Pretty… pretty boy.” He tries to reach up but Steve catches his hand and gently places it back on the pea ice pack. Munson was smart, pressing his wrists against it to help cool him down. 
“I know I’m gorgeous Munson but let’s get you feeling better before you try to kiss me okay?”
“Promise?” Well, Steve feels like he should be surprised but considering Eddie has been basically spilling his sexuality in his fevered state, he’s just going to wait it out and see if Eddie remembers any of this later. And if he doesn’t then he will keep the older boy’s secret.
“We can talk about it when your fever breaks. Do you think you could keep some food down for me or would you rather take some Nyquil and sleep?”
Eddie looks queasy at just the mention of food so it’s not a surprise when he asks for sleep. Steve stands and goes to dig through his medicine cabinet, he knows he stocked up when Dustin had a cold from all the stress after Starcourt. After filling up the little cup with the medicine he fills another glass with some gatorade mixed with ice for him to wash it down.
Eddie’s breathing is still a little shallow when he returns, but hopefully the medicine will help with the fever breaking. He is able to haul Eddie up enough to get him to drink the medicine but struggles with getting him to sip the juice. Eventually Eddie places his hand over Steve’s to steady him so he’s not feeling waterboarded. 
“Spose it’ss too late t’ ask, you di’n’t poison me right?”
Steve sets the glass aside since it seems like Eddie is done drinking. “No Munson, I’m not that jealous of you stealing my kids yet.”
“Nooo, not jel’uss. Kids luv you.” His slurring started to get worse as the meds kicked in.
“We can debate that in the morning, for now let’s get you in a bed.” He takes the melty bag of peas and sets them aside before scooping Eddie up again. Getting up the stairs leaves Steve huffing a bit, Eddie is light but he isn’t weightless. He says as such and gets a bite to the shoulder for his trouble.
“...u callin’ me fat?” He pouts and weakly tries to squirm away.
“No Eddie you’re the prettiest princess at the ball I assure you. I will search the whole kingdom to find out who could ever fit into your scuffed up Docs.” Steve snorts but Eddie looks pleased as punch at Steve’s proclamation.
“Damn straight.” Eddie sighs tiredly, his head lolling against Steve’s shoulder. “Don’ wanna wake up.”
“Wake up from what Eddie?” He asks as he lays Eddie in the guest bed, he kneels down to tug off Eddie’s boots and set them aside. Talking to Eddie is like conversing with a sleep talker at this point.
“Dream, you bein’ niccce.”
“What would you like me to say in this dream of yours then? Before you wake up.” He asks, looking up at Eddie from where he’s kneeling in front or the other, hands gripping his shins to keep his balance. He’s not expecting Eddie to reach out and touch his cheek with icy fingers.
“Ssssuch a crussh on you…school.” 
Steve’s cheeks explode with color at that admission and he quickly stands up to lay Eddie down and tuck him in. Eddie is out as soon as he hits the pillow. Steve runs a hand through his hair and sighs as he watches Eddie Munson curl around his pillow in his sleep and let out a loud snore.
Shaking his head he leaves the door cracked open and heads back downstairs to clean up and watch some tv before bed.
Pt 4
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flightfoot · 2 months
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Adrien Angst Fics and Series that finished in 2023
So I love some good Adrien angst and hurt/comfort, and I figure a bunch of other people do as well! Hopefully these fics scratch that itch! They're all from the collection I set up earlier for the fics from 2023 that I recommend! I've got 31 fics in here. It's a popular genre that I like a lot, there are a lot of fics for it!
home is where the fight is by @rosie-b
Nadja Chamack’s voice greeted Adrien as he sat up straight, wiping his clammy hands on his pants and ignoring the black kwami floating by his shoulder. “—shocked to see our heroine fall in battle today, taking a direct hit from the akuma just as she detransformed. Parisians are torn between blaming Hawk Moth and Cat Walker for their roles in this tragedy, which ultimately revealed the civilian identity of Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Adrien turned off the TV and lowered his head as his vision blurred. Written for Ladrien June Day 7: Injured
I adore this fic! Which shouldn’t be a a surprise, it’s no secret that I love Sentiadrien Enemies AU. Adrien’s so worried about Marinette getting hurt, and wishes that he could help keep her safer, could tell her what’s really going on or get rid of the ring or something, but he can’t. Still, he IS able to find clever ways around some of his father’s more problematic orders. Loopholes for the win!
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Guilty by Association by @rosie-b
Marinette respected Adrien’s strength and courage more and more every day. No matter how many times people threw nasty words or literal tomatoes at him; no matter how many companies refused to work with him anymore; no matter how clear it was becoming that he would never be forgiven for his father’s crimes, he chose to greet new people with a smile and hope that this time, someone would recognize the kind heart hidden behind his hated name. She wished she’d had the chance to meet him before she’d accidentally ruined his life. Written for the Ml Writers Guild September event ‘back to school’
I love how Marinette keeps reaching out to Adrien, trying to protect him, even if it doesn’t always work. To let him know that she’s in his corner at least. Hawk Moth had to be taken down, but the consequences for Adrien… she never wanted anyone to get hurt in the process. 
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oh, look now, there you go with hope again by @ladyofthenoodle
After the defeat of Hawkmoth and his accomplice, Chat Noir, Marinette is ready to return to her normal life, but she can’t escape Adrien Agreste, who was sentenced to a fate many consider worse than prison: public school. Specifically, her public school. Still, that doesn’t mean she has to interact with him, does it? Except, if she doesn’t… who will?
I love a good enemies au, and seeing the aftermath of an enemies au… that’s rare. She’s wary of Adrien, but with how he’s being bullied, and how he’s just taking it in the hopes of being accepted, she can’t help but reach out to him.
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Disintegrated Pancakes by @scribeofrhapsody
Adrien had started expecting the family breakfasts. He had NOT been expecting his father to collapse in the middle of one.
I’m shocked I haven’t seen more of this sort of thing, with Adrien finding out his father’s Monarch via seeing the Cataclysm wound. I love that Alya gets involved in this, being the person Adrien runs into after fleeing the room, and then Adrien getting to talk things out with Gabriel and Nathalie. Thankfully Gabriel is at least not completely incapable of being reasoned with here, or things could have gone worse than they did. It’s a nice little read, though with an ambiguous ending (at least at the time when I write this).
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with this ring by @thelibraryloser
She thought “you and me against the world” had sounded like lopsided odds before, when she hadn’t even dreamed “you against me” was a possibility. Or maybe she had dreamed it, but at least in those dreams he’d had cold blue eyes and a stark white mask. The villain she’d fought today had looked at her through her partner’s own bright green eyes. It wasn’t meant to be this way.
Short and sweet Sentiadrien enemies canon divergence fic here! I adored Marinette finding out why her kitty seemed to have “betrayed” her, and the righteous anger on his behalf once she figured out that it wasn’t of his own free will. Her comforting Adrien about it was just… really good. It’s a Hawkmoth Defeat fic too, so the immediate aftermath gets covered as well. Adrien needs a hug.
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Nothing Else Matters by LiquefiedStars
Marinette couldn’t figure out Chat Noir. He was supposed to be her partner, but instead ended up working for Hawk Moth. Still, her heart betrayed her and when a strong connection forms between them, Ladybug goes to Chat looking for answers, finding out more than she bargained for.
Sentiadrien enemies AU fic! He never wanted to fight against her, but Gabriel caught him before he could transform for the first time, and with his father using his Amoks against him, he had no choice. 
I like that there’s a solid explanation for why Fu let Adrien keep his Miraculous even though he’s been working against Ladybug, I don’t often see explanations for that that I’m satisfied with.
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Slowly Fading (from my misery) by @wehadabondingmoment
“You’re looking awfully deep in thought today, minou.” Ladybug’s gloved hand stroked over his hair and Chat Noir closed his eyes with an unstable breath. He got like this sometimes. Lately, it had been getting worse. Or: Gabriel likes using the rings to order his son around. After a while, it starts having effects on Chat Noir as well. (The more often Gabriel commands Adrien to act a certain way, the more it gets ingrained in his mentality. He suffers because of it.)
This is a gorgeous fic. Adrien’s been puppeted around, forced to obey orders for reasons he doesn’t understand, for so long, so often that a lot of times his own body doesn’t even feel like his. A lot of residual orders keep on bubbling up and stopping him from doing what he wants to do, and he just… doesn’t understand why. Considering how Adrien looked in Pretension when Gabriel forced him to go to his room so he could talk to Marinette alone, and how desperately Adrien tried to head back there but couldn’t make himself open the door, how terrified and confused he’d seemed, I think his feelings here, his mindset, is pretty close to canon.
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all of your flaws and all of my flaws (are laid out one-by-one) by @coffeebanana
Ladybug and Marinette have both been acting strangely since Monarch’s defeat, and Chat Noir would give anything to know why—to be able to help them. He just…didn’t expect his answers to come when Ladybug drags him to his father’s statue in the middle of the night along with a bag full of spray paint.
If you felt unsatisfied with Adrien being left in the dark about Monarch, with Ladybug lying about Gabriel being a hero, this is a great fic to read. Marinette’s breaking down keeping this secret, seeing people treat Gabriel as the hero she told people he was, until she finally snaps and has to do SOMETHING, has to tell SOMEONE the truth. 
Which Chat takes pretty well! He knows how persuasive his father could be, and he’s mostly just relieved at finally hearing someone say that Gabriel wasn’t a hero. It’s still a lot to cope with though.
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Falling (sick) with you by @chocoluckchipz
Nothing would be easier than taking a pair of earrings off an unconscious Ladybug. Doing so would bring his mother back and end their decade-long strife. He shouldn’t be hesitating when a chance of a life time presented itself to him. He should not be looking for excuses and reasonings as to why spending another twenty or so years fighting this woman rather than pleasing his father and giving his mother another chance at life was not such a bad idea after all.
Ah, I love a good enemies au! Even when they’re enemies, Chat is unwilling to hurt Ladybug. Though honestly, he makes himself out to be more of a villain than he actually is, it’s pretty obvious to everyone that he’s not trying as hard as he could to get her earrings. There’s very good reason for that.
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adrien agreste and the consequences of tweets making fun of yourself by Anonymous
Well, Adrien thinks, what’s the worst that could come from a few poorly thought-out tweets lightly ribbing his own civilian identity?
I love the focus here on how people just assume what Adrien’s thinking and feeling and act on his behalf, without actually waiting to see what HE wants, and Adrien’s growing frustration. How they create a version of him in their heads, but don’t care to check with reality to see whether he actually wants their “defense”. 
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what makes a human (am I?) by GraceM_TheStoriedLife
Adrien comes to Marinette’s out of nowhere. Usually Chat is her rock. Tonight, it’s her turn. (Or, in which Adrien discovers some secrets he’s not prepared for and Marinette is as Marinette-y as always.
So Adrien discovers he’s a sentimonster and immediately runs to Marinette for support. It’s as cute and angsty as you’d expect. She is, of course, very supportive of him. Also some discussion of Gabriel being abusive, since both she and Nino had been trying to get Adrien to see that. Especially with how, exactly, Adrien found out he’s a sentimonster. He can relate a little better to Felix’s experiences now than is healthy, I’ll just say.
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Vengeance Noire by @phiellydinyia
After a horrific argument with his father, Adrien escaped from the mansion with his heart in pieces. In hindsight, it made sense why an akuma was sent his way. He shouldn’t have let his emotions get the better of him. But he never expected Plagg to be even more upset than he was. He never expected his own kwami to be akumatized. To become the threat of a city he swore to protect. And what’s worse is the fact that Chat Noir can’t jump in to save this one. But Ladybug can. And that’s why he has to find her as quickly as possible, suit or no suit.
I love some good Adrien angst, especially with a delicious side order of Plagg and Adrien’s bond with each other. Even as Adrien’s barely functional, though, he’ll do everything in his power to save Plagg, even if Plagg wishes he wouldn’t go quite that far. 
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This Distance Between Us by @coffeebanana
After defeating Monarch, the search for the Peacock Miraculous brings Ladybug and Chat Noir to a hotel room in London. But it’s hard to enjoy the victory when Ladybug can’t figure out why Chat’s been so quiet, why he seems so sad. How’s she supposed to help if she has no idea what’s wrong?
This is a great Sentiadrien fic, with Chat freaking out about it and feeling like he’s not worthy of Ladybug’s affections, but not telling her what’s actually wrong because he thinks she won’t want him anymore if she knows. Of course, he’s wrong about that.
Also there’s a pretty intense confrontation with Felix, pissing Chat Noir off is a bad idea.
---
Rocking the Cat-Eyes by @buggachat
“I like being a girl.” “That’s the alcohol talking,” Marinette snorted. “I’ve always been a li’l jealous,” Adrien admitted. “… Of what?” “That you get to be a girl,” Adrien murmured, “and I don’t.” — When Marinette and Adrien host Girls’ Night at their apartment, Adrien is easily welcomed to attend as “one of the girls”… but has a bit too much to drink. Some drunken confessions are spilt, some assumptions are made, and most of all… Adrien is confused.
This is a great Genderfluid!Adrien fic. Marinette actually figures out that Adrien’s not entirely cis before he does, and tries to let him know she’s supportive… but unfortunately Adrien comes to some incorrect conclusions…
Anyway it’s a lot of fun, and Adrien rocks a dress and makeup!
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Family by @unecoccinellenoire
“You know,” Nino grins, “if you need advice on being a big brother in a year or two I’m sure I could help.” The bottom of Adrien’s stomach dropped out. — Adrien struggles with the concept of his father and Nathalie having children.
So this is a world where Adrien and Marinette managed to defeat Gabriel, taking his Miraculous, with them giving him an ultimatum: they won’t out him as being Hawk Moth so long as he doesn’t cause any more trouble and does right by Adrien. Gabriel does, in fact, move on finally to Nathalie, giving Adrien a lot of mixed feelings to deal with. He still loves them both despite everything, but he’s also angry at them and he definitely does NOT want them to have children, both because he thinks they’d like any biological child they had more (he’s also harboring guilt from indirectly being the cause of his mom’s death), and because frankly, they screwed up too much with Adrien for him to want them to inflict that on another child.
And then there’s also Adrien dealing with the realization that he’s a Senti on top of that and wondering why he and Felix look the way they do, what Emilie’s reasons were.
It’s mostly just Adrien getting to talk things out, navigating this emotionally fraught situation he finds himself in now that the dust is settled.
---
When Secrets Come Undone by SortaArtsy
Ladybug promised not to tell Adrien… but she never promised not to confide in Cat Noir. What happens when Ladybug unintentionally vents to the one person who wasn’t meant to know any of it? ****MAJOR SEASON 5 SPOILERS WARNING! **** May not be season 6 compliant when it comes out.
This is a “Adrien finds out what everyone’s been keeping from him post-S5″ fic, and I think it’s handled really well! He feels very hurt, betrayed, and disbelieving initially about being a Senti and his father being Monarch (…mostly being a Senti, it ain’t that hard to believe that Gabriel was a supervillain), and is angry at everyone who kept it secret from him, but he still handles it well, going and talking to the people involved, getting their reasoning and perspective. 
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Wanted: Catnap by SortaArtsy
Adrien Agreste has barely been sleeping, trying to be everything expected of him. What happens when he spreads himself too thin? Sick!Adrien/ Cat Noir
Adrien’s just pushing himself so hard, trying to do his regular duties, until his illness forces him to rest. I love how concerned everyone is over him - even GABRIEL eventually relents and wants him to rest. It’s just cute and nice and fluffy.
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a winter so warm by @rosekasa
winters were hard for even the best of vampires, but at least adrien had marinette to keep him warm with her cuddles. december was going to suck without her. so it was only to be expected to get extra cuddles in before she left, right? (well, not really, considering those heating supplements he was taking, but she didn’t need to know about that).
This one’s mostly just cute cuddly adorableness! It’s basically like all those “Marinette gets the Ladybug trait of needing to cuddle up to someone for warmth”, but with Adrien instead. And of course featuring Marinette being a very talented witch who just wants to help Adrien stay warm when she isn’t there XD.
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and I thought I heard you sing by @into-september
When Hawkmoth has been defeated and unmasked, Marinette is left with two problems and no solutions. First, that Adrien is further out of her reach than ever before, and no-one can tell her how to get to him. Second, that Cat Noir is far more troubled than she knew, and the only thing she can do is wait for him at the place they agreed to meet.
It’s your classic “Hawkmoth’s defeated and taken into custody but that means Adrien’s in for a rough time” sort of fic. Everyone’s worried about Adrien and wants to give him what comfort and support that they can, but he’s being hidden away from everyone (which I mean, honestly that’s a good move), so that’s not really possible. Plus, Ladybug’s noticed that Chat’s having a tough time in his civilian life, which worries her.
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Betrayal by @jennagrinsoverml
MAJOR EPHEMERAL SPOILERS!! Ladybug planned to use Viperion’s power of Second Chance to get Chat’s identity to Su-han without Chat knowing or agreeing. Of course, then the world went crazy, and she didn’t go through with it. But when an akuma exposes Ladybug’s plan to Chat, he doesn’t know that. He just knows that his Lady betrayed him. He deals with his feelings in the best, most mature way he can think of. He disappears.
So I, like a lot of others, wanted more follow-up on Ephemeral, and particularly on the betrayal of trust it was for Marinette to try to trick Chat Noir into giving up his identity to a third party without his knowledge or consent (I wrote my own take on that at the time, called Transcient, that I’m proud of). This fic did a good job of exploring that, with Adrien reacting in a manner that made sense to me (repressing his negative feelings about the situation as much as possible and trying to justify it to himself, but still feeling terrible despite his own best efforts), and how Marinette realized that she messed up, since Luka keeping it secret that he knows hers and Chat’s secret identities caused her to be upset as well. It did a great job of exploring those negative feelings and letting everyone talk things out, explain their viewpoints, and rebuild their relationships afterwards, which is something I really value.
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I’ll give myself a name (something stupid and pretentious) by @bbutterflies
Nino looked at the number and didn’t recognize it. Usually he wouldn’t answer, but he had nothing better to do – and could still really use a distraction – so he did. “Hello?”
“Hey, Nino.”
Nino stood up quickly, chest tightening. He knew that voice. He’d been waiting to hear it again for over two years. “Adrien?” he whispered.
“Yeah. It’s me."
-
When Monarch is defeated (and revealed to be Gabriel Agreste), Chat Noir immediately goes missing. Adrien disappears not long after. When Adrien finally shows up in Paris again, Nino would do anything to make sure he doesn't disappear again.
Ah this is lovely, Adrien’s been in a lot of emotional turmoil since Monarch’s defeat, convinced that everyone would hate him, SHOULD hate him, for not realizing that his father was the villain, and should hate him even more for disappearing like he does. But slowly Marinette and Nino get through to him, convince him that they just want him back. 
And also Adrien and Nino smooch. Multiple times. So that’s a bonus XD.
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Two Steps Back (One Step Forward) by @buggachat
Sure, Adrien hadn't been texting her as often as he used to. And sure, Nino noticed it too. But just because Adrien had struggled with depression in the past, didn't mean he was struggling now. Surely, he'd tell her if something was wrong. Right?
Marinette just missed him, and she had a tendency to catastrophize. Surely, he was fine.
But if he wasn't... well, she wasn't above hopping on a flight back to Paris to make sure.
—————
Marinette's at an internship in New York, and Adrien has a depression relapse.
Once again buggachat comes out swinging with a fic centered around Adrien being super depressed and his friends charging in to help him, despite him not wanting them to because he feels like a burden. It’s not easy and Marinette goes through a lot of emotional turmoil, especially since his apartment is in bad enough shape that it can’t be changed to something that a human should be living in without also going shopping, but gradually she helps drag Adrien out of the hole he’s gotten himself stuck in. The emotions are on point and just... if you want to read a hurt/comfort fic with Found Family helping one of their own who’s struggling and doesn’t think they deserve it, this is a great fic to read.
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If only I could break free by megetstoread
It started with Adrien being upset about going away, but led to a lot of revelations.  
Another Sentiadrien fic here! After telling Adrien that he’s being sent to London, Gabriel takes advantage of Adrien being distraught to akumatize him. Luckily Ladybug’s right there and deakumatizes him before he can even do anything, but it shakes both her and Chat, leading to her allowing him to tell her a lot more about his home life than usual, and for her and Adrien to investigate to see whether there might be more to Adrien’s inability to stand against his father than just psychological abuse.
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Dr. Walker & Kitty Hyde series by @pearl484-blog
Summary of the first fic, Rain Falls, Everybody Lies:
Chat Noir loves the rain. He loves the danger. He loves the excitement, and he especially loves how much Catwalker hates it. 
Jekyll and Hyde AU
Adrien AUGreste Entry 3: Rain
So like the summary says, and the title indicates, this series is inspired by the popular conception of Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - not how the book actually goes, but how it’s portrayed in popular media, with Jekyll splitting himself in two, with a “good” side and a “bad” side. 
During Kuro Neko, instead of just changing his appearance through changing his mindset, Adrien took more extreme measures, sealing off his “undesirable” characteristics, his anger and sadness and all his sharp edges, into the ring so he could assume a more placid, genial persona that’d be more accepted - Cat Walker. 
But Chat Noir’s still there, taking over whenever Adrien gets too testy, and desperately trying not to be pressed out of existence entirely. With embodying Adrien’s sealed anger and snappishness and rebelliousness, he’s not too kind to the other heroes - he already felt looked down upon and ignored before this, and seeing them accept Cat Walker while he’s fighting for his life doesn’t endear them to him either.
The series isn’t unfair to them - this isn’t a case where one party is entirely in the wrong and another’s entirely in the right. Marinette, Zoe, Nino, and all the others - they did wonder about what was going on with Chat, but he wasn’t in a position where he could see it, and he did have legitimate questions about how much Ladybug would budge on things, if he’d told her what he was going through. It’s a series that emphasizes characters hurting and lashing out in some terrible ways, but that hurt still being respected, and working things out, trying to get everything to a better place.
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The Parable of the Caller by @nemaliwrites
A week after Hawk Moth’s identity has been revealed, Adrien finds himself with nowhere to go, nothing he can do, and worst of all, strange gaps in his memory he can’t explain. In a stroke of luck, he stumbles upon a burner phone filled with voicemails from one of the Saviors of Paris: Chat Noir himself, who disappeared following Hawk Moth’s arrest.
But with each new voicemail Adrien listens to, he’s forced to confront the fact that there might be some kind of connection between himself and Chat Noir — and discovering it might leave him more broken than before.
I absolutely adore this fic, it’s a fantastic character study for Adrien! Basically in this universe, Ladybug and Chat Noir talked about who should be Guardian, with Chat eventually convincing her that he should be the one to take it on, primarily due to the whole “the Guardian gets amnesia about Miraculous-related matters” situation, and wanting to protect Ladybug from that. Then he finds out Gabriel is Hawk Moth, they take him down, and he relinquishes the Miracle Box and his guardianship to Su Han - all without having a Reveal with Ladybug, since well, he’s not in the greatest shape mentally at the time.
It’s a real treat to see Adrien’s thoughts and feelings about one of the Heroes of Paris leaving him all these voicemails, treating him like this close friend for reasons he doesn’t understand, and just seeing Chat Noir as this outside person. He’s got a very different viewpoint on Chat when looking from the outside than he would from the inside, with being able to see his heroic and good qualities far more easily when he doesn’t know that he is Chat.
Also Marinette’s struggling in the background of the fic with the loss of her partner and guilt over sending Adrien’s father to prison. It gets touched on at various points, and you can tell that she’s having her own story off to the side that we’re just not entirely privy to, what with this tale being told entirely from Adrien’s perspective.
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call it even by @anna-scribbles and @sha-nwa
After a year of dating, there is one thing Marinette knows for certain: it's her and Adrien against the world. Through it all, Adrien is kind, patient, and endlessly understanding—even as she tries her best to keep her secret superhero identity hidden from him along with the rest of the world.
Nothing could ruin it, not even the supervillains of Paris: Hawkmoth and Chat Noir.
(adrinette dating // ladynoir enemies au)
This is one of those fics where Adrien and Marinette are REALLY going through it emotionally, with them starting off with wildly different perceptions of each other when untransformed, and then reckoning with the person they love the most being someone they think of as a villain, with all the betrayal and doubt that involves. Especially with Adrien having been lied to extensively by his father, and not knowing who or what to believe.
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drowning (in plain sight) by @buggachat
Everybody had expected Monarch's defeat to be a moment of triumph. Nobody had expected Gabriel Agreste, unmasked and mind frayed from continual abuse of the miraculous, crying out to all who would listen and making Paris certain of one thing:
His son, Adrien Agreste, is one of his sentimonsters.
And now he's missing.
Nobody can find him— not even the superheroes, and not even his closest friends. But Marinette, Nino, and Alya aren't ones to give up so easily. They'll find him, no matter what it takes.
(But, geez, would it kill Chat Noir to lend a hand?)
I’m sure everyone saw this one coming. If there’s one thing buggachat’s good at, storywise, it’s capturing raw, tumultuous emotions, frantic breakdowns as the characters desperately try to navigate bad situations. This was a real treat to read, as I’m betting most people reading this will agree, given just how popular the fic has been. It also has a ton of fanart, both by buggachat and by random fans, if you go looking for it (there’s a drowning in plain sight tag which I’d advise perusing). 
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Eventually by @lucid-ao3
Adrien’s life has been dictated by rules, monitored, and controlled for years. He has learned to compartmentalize. It’s not that bad. It always gets better, eventually. Doesn’t it?
Recovery can be an unexpected obstacle when you didn’t realize you were being hurt in the first place.
OR: How Adrien lives and copes with the emotional abuse inflicted on him over the years, and how he ultimately could overcome it.
If you want a good “Adrien doesn’t realize how abusive his father is but slowly buckles more and more under his tyranny, until things come to a head, and he actually gets the HELP HE NEEDS” fic, this is a good one!
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Not a Monster at All by @book-sandwich
Adrien Agreste overhears a conversation he shouldn't, and a revelation sends him falling onto the terrace of the only person he can trust: his good friend (?) Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
Takes place sometime after the first two episodes of season 5!
As you can probably guess from the title, this is a Sentimonster Adrien, Monarch takedown fic. Adrien’s going through a tough time, and Marinette’s just trying to be there for him as his whole world’s collapsing around him. Unfrotunately, they still don’t know what the object is, or how likely Gabriel would be to control Adrien if he hinted that he knew the truth, which leaves Adrien in a precarious position - still not having done an identity reveal doesn’t help matters.
It’s a really solid fic for the genre, though since it started up before the later parts of season 5, there are a few things that don’t match up with the canon information we obtained later on. 
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Awaken by InkyIbis
The previously white butterfly, now oozing black and purple as a conduit of the butterfly miraculous powers, flutters softly within the silvered-gloved hand.
It sits there for a long time.
"Go, my akuma," The soft sigh pushes the butterfly, the akuma, out towards the despair of a love not returned. The same ache within his chest. On a level so great that he's willing to sacrifice the city to mend it.
It's okay if he's the villain for now. He'll force the miraculous of creation and destruction to be revealed, and once he gets his hands on them, none of this pain, none of his loss, will ever happen.
This is essentially a canon rewrite for Miraculous (specifically seasons 1 and 2, with a bunch of the events mixed around) that focuses primarily on Adrien, with his relationship with Nino being the main driving relationship of the fic. (Don’t worry, Marinette’s still treated fine, she’s just not the focus). This is the best “rewrite Miraculous with more of a focus on Adrien” type fic I’ve seen, with it reworking the plots of the episodes so that they’re different enough to be their own distinct thing - it’s not trying to just rewrite the canon episodes but from Adrien’s POV, there’s a lot of lore changes going on as well, and things occur in different orders.
Like lorewise, Chat’s given a more important role in cleaning up the mess the akumas leave, with his power helping to cleanse akuma victims and he and Ladybug needing to use their powers in tandem in order to cast Miraculous Ladybug. There’s also no Miracle Box holding the kwamis. Instead, Chat sometimes surpasses his limits and ends up summoning kwamis, which is dangerous to him, but very useful.
What really makes this fic great though, is its focus on Adrien’s emotions. You really get a feel for Adrien’s insecurities, especially when it comes to not feeling like he’s good enough for Nino, with not wanting to bother him when he absolutely should, with feeling like he’s not a good enough friend to him, and then there’s dealing with all of Gabriel’s usual abuse on top of that.
Speaking of Nino, this is an Adrino fic (though several characters get crushes on Adrien, Nino’s the one who matters most for this), though a slowburn one. Nino’s clearly head-over-heels for Adrien, but Adrien has like, no context for what a romantic crush feels like and is basically viewing Nino the way he viewed Marinette in canon prior to season 5. He clearly cares for him a lot, including romantically, he just... doesn’t get it.
Anyway, if you want an interesting canon rewrite fic from Adrien’s perspective with Adrino as the main pairing, this is a good story to pick up!
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one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus
All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace.
Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack for the last remaining Miraculous: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most.
Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.
This is a simply phenomenal fic. You get to explore a lot of different perspectives, like Felix, Kagami, Marinette, and Adrien’s, just to name a few, and see their different thought processes and plans and priorities, and how it can cause their plans to collide with each other, even when they all ultimately are aiming for a good outcome for everyone. The characters are pretty complex and can mess up at times, even when they’re doing things (or not doing things, looking at you Luka) with the best of intentions. It was a joy to read and a real nail-biter the whole time, I actually wrote a fic for it halfway through just to resolve some of the tension for myself, One Does Not Love Shadows.
It also features the version of Luka I’ve connected best with to date, as he feels like Luka, but also is a lot more fleshed out, and can make some major errors while simply trying to avoid missteps. It’s helped me get a better handle on a character who I’ve generally had a lot of problems with really understanding.
It is an M-rated fic, though I think Wackus is being overly cautious on that front. There’s no sexual content and I wouldn’t put the violence or gore above a T-rating, so I wouldn’t let the rating scare you off.
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97-liners · 1 year
Text
out of the frying pan and into your heart
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jeon wonwoo x female reader
tags: college au, fraternities, fake dating, misunderstandings, childhood friends to lovers, this all could have been resolved with some proper communication, lots of pining specifically for em, fluff, rom com, best friend minghao, y/n is oblivious!!!
warnings: alcohol, weed, frats, american college setting
words: 9.3k
synopsis:
it starts, as it always does with this particular collection of friends, with shenanigans and cahoots.
well, more specifically, for wonwoo it starts with shenanigans, when soonyoung and junhui somehow manage to collide brain cells and write in to the school newspaper's love advice columnist about his crush on his childhood best friend.
and for you, the aforementioned childhood best friend and, in secret, also the aforementioned love advice columnist, it starts with cahoots when kim mingyu manages to convince you to fake date him so he can win some popularity contest for his frat.
for @notesof-mh
.
.
.
It starts, as it always does with this particular collection of friends, with shenanigans and cahoots. 
Well, more specifically, for Wonwoo it starts with shenanigans, when Soonyoung and Junhui somehow manage to collide brain cells. 
He had barely been awake for 15 seconds when they had barged into his room, laptop in hands, just to show him the text in a pink-colored submission box surrounded by heart emojis. Wonwoo squints, the blurry words coming into just enough focus for him to make out what they say. “Dear Cherry, I’m a third year computer science student and I’m in love with my best friend, except I’m— what the hell is this?” 
He glares at Soonyoung who grins cheerfully and points again at the screen. “Read the rest, Wonwoo!”
Wonwoo sighs and continues reading. “Except I’m a huge awkward loser and she’s so cool and pretty, and I don’t know how to tell her I like her. What should I do?”
“Alright, hit send,” Junhui instructs, tilting the laptop away and laughing maniacally. 
Wonwoo pushes his hand across his face, trying his best to wipe away the last vestiges of sleep-addled confusion, and then he realizes what’s happening.
“Wait, you can’t do that,” he tries to protest, but Soonyoung giggles and clicks a button.
“No, this will be good,” Junhui says, plopping down on the edge of Wonwoo’s bed. “Minghao told me that whoever runs the advice column in the school paper is, like, a love guru, and she has four thousand followers on instagram. And she’s never shown her face, but she’s probably also really pretty.”
Wonwoo groans. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Just trust us,” Soonyoung pats Wonwoo’s knee through the blanket, “this is a good idea.”
And for you, it starts with kahoots, when your chemistry lab partner, Mingyu, pulls your stool closer to his side and whispers a proposition to you.
“Do you want to be my fake girlfriend?”
You narrow your eyes at him through your fogged up department-issued safety goggles. “Are you insane? What kind of fumes are you on?”
“None,” Mingyu replies. “I’m Sigma’s nominee for the Greek God award at the inter-fraternity tournament this year and I’m the only nominee who’s single.”
“And so I’m your pick,” you respond flatly. 
Mingyu nods eagerly. His safety glasses slide down his nose, and he has to push them back up. “Yeah, you’re so pretty and cool, I think it’d be really impressive if I somehow managed to pull you.”
“Huh.”
“And,” he adds on, lowering his voice even more, “Jeonghan thinks my only real competition this year is going to be Jung Jaehyun from Nu Kappa Tau, and rumor has it you rejected him in high school. Twice. So I think it’d be pretty funny if we ended up together.”
You scoff and turn back toward the titration in front of you. “You can’t go up to people and ask for things like this.”
“C’mon, you know the winner gets free parking for an entire semester,” he whines. “Ok, how’s this? If you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend for the Greek God award, I’ll write our lab reports for the rest of the semester.” 
His offer makes you pause, and he jumps on that pause, wedging his way in there. 
“I’ll give you executive editing power, but I’ll do all the work,” he wheedles, “and I’ll give you a perfect peer eval at the end of the semester. I promise,” he puts a big meaty hand on your lab notebook and smears the ink under his fingers. “Kim Mingyu isn’t a liar.”
“I’ll conveniently ignore the fact that you’re lying about having a girlfriend to win this award, then,” you roll your eyes.
“That’s different, though,” he protests, “the award is dumb and meaningless and I really want it. But a promise made between buddies is important.”
He looks earnest, so you decide to lay off on him just a little. “When we’re fake-dating,” you sigh, “you can’t call us buddies anymore.”
“So that’s a…”
You groan, hating yourself for being so indulgent. “Yes. That’s a yes.”
.
.
.
“Hold on Y/N, have you seen this?”
“Seen what?” You look over the top of your laptop screen, where you’re halfway through a paper on the Cuban Missile Crisis. 
Minghao, your co-admin of the school newspaper’s (infamous) advice column turns his screen towards you. “Someone wrote in calling themselves a huge awkward loser.”
“Huh,” you grin to yourself as you read over the message quickly. “That’s kind of cute, actually.”
“Of course you think it’s cute,” Minghao rolls his eyes. “I’m going to assign this one over to you.”
“Yeah, sure, but please,” you mutter, “can you be a bit more discreet about it?”
Minghao looks at you over the top of his glasses. “What, about us being Ask Cherry? It’s not as embarrassing as you make it out to be.”
“Be quiet,” you hiss, looking around, “someone could overhear!” You frown, and then quietly, you add on, “and it is embarrassing. I’m supposed to be a journalism major, and I’m here making up horoscopes and giving fake relationship advice three days a week.”
This is an overstatement, and Minghao rolls his eyes. You only make up horoscopes and give fake relationship advice one day a week (Mondays are for Matters Of The Heart, your schedule says). There’s also Am I The Asshole Wednesdays, a campus favorite, and Friday Free-for-alls, when you field confessions of all types. Dear Cherry, I need to get this off my chest. I’ve been using my roommate’s shampoo this whole semester, and today I found out that our two other roommates have also been using this roommate’s shampoo. He doesn’t suspect a thing. 
You hadn’t meant to end up in this position. You write serious pieces for the school newspaper too, reporting on the Student Government’s legislative sessions and the university’s semesterly budget for grants to culturally-centered student organizations. Those articles, you have your name attached to. But at the end of last year, the new editor-in-chief Jeonghan had approached you and convinced (strong-armed) you into becoming the new writer for the infamous advice column, Ask Cherry, since Cherry himself was quitting to make more time for other priorities.
(“And the kicker is,” you had complained to Minghao, “nobody will ever believe me.” Choi Seungcheol, fraternity president, football player, gym rat, jock, fuckboy extraordinaire— relationship advice columnist? No, it’s simply not realistic. 
“I’m sitting on the juiciest piece of gossip to cross my path in my entire life, and I can’t do anything about it,” you say dejectedly.
“Hmm.” Minghao doesn’t even pretend to be interested.)
But, despite your disastrous real-world love life, your clumsily dispensed life advice, and the completely made up horoscopes, Ask Cherry readership skyrocketed under your intrepid watch. Once, you told a reader that the albino squirrel that lives in the tree next to the physics building was a good omen, and the next day, rumor spread that an albino squirrel sighting would grant you an A on your next exam. For weeks after, people would scatter peanuts and pieces of toast by the base of the tree next to the physics building, until campus facilities had to fence the area off because raccoons were starting to show up instead. 
Minghao finding out had been a complete accident, after you had lent him your laptop to print out a paper that was due the next hour, but you had forgotten to minimize the window with your Ask Chrery submissions. Minghao, being someone who loves giving advice, both solicited and unsolicited, naturally joined in on this scheme of yours. 
“Anyways,” you shrug. You look up as Junhui steps into the public study area of the library and scans the tables twice before making eye contact with you, and then waving. “Minghao, did you invite the others over to study with us?”
“Yeah,” Minghao responds, raising an eyebrow at you. “You got a problem with that?”
“No, it’s just—“ you’re about to complain about never being able to focus on your work with the rest of them around, but the words die on your lips when you spot Wonwoo trailing behind Junhui with a bemused expression on his face and a cardboard tray holding bubble teas in his hands. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “Hey guys,” you wave over to them, clearing off the table space next to you to make room for them. 
“I brought you a taro milk tea,” Junhui announces, gesturing behind him, “and a Wonwoo to boot.”
“He made me walk with him because he didn’t know your favorite drink,” Wonwoo explains quietly as he slides the drinks onto the table and takes his seat next to you. “Are you working on that international relations paper?”
“Yeah.” You take your taro milk tea. No ice, 50% sweet, tapioca pearls and grass jelly, just the way you like it. 
“Do you think you’ll be done by Friday?”
“I will be free by then,” you promise him, punctuating your statement by stabbing your boba straw through the film covering the cup. You’d rather suffer through an all nighter on Sunday than miss your regular Friday night gaming sessions with Wonwoo, a tradition the two of you have kept up since both of you were in middle school and still playing Starcraft.
“Anyway,” Junhui leans over the table, resting his chin on top of his interlaced fingers. “I have a funny story.”
You tear your gaze away from Wonwoo. “Hm?”
“So, you know that advice columnist for the school paper? Wonwoo submitted a question the other day. Well, Soonyoung and I did, but for Wonwoo.”
You feel your blood run cold. It’s not that you’re ashamed of running a love advice column, but it’s more that you’re… embarrassed. And you’ve been running it in secret for so long that at this point, you can’t even fathom anyone outside of Minghao knowing. Maybe when you graduate, you’ll do an identity reveal, but you’re not quite there now.
“Can we talk about literally anything else,” Wonwoo grouses, somewhat to your relief. he glares at Junhui, but the effect is somewhat dampened when he lifts his bubble tea to his mouth and loudly slurps up some tapioca pearls.
“Yeah,” you quickly agree, not eager to have your secret identity exposed.
Junhui steamrolls on ahead, however. “So. If you’re reading the column and there’s a question from someone who has a big stupid crush, you know who it’s from.”
Your breath catches in your throat. Wonwoo? A crush?
“Junhui,” Wonwoo groans, digging his fingers into the bridge of his nose, brows furrowed in an expression of exquisite pain. 
Minghao, however, leans forward and lets his glasses slide down his nose. He laces his fingers together. “A crush? On who?”
Junhui and Minghao both turn to stare at Wonwoo, who flushes beet red. 
“Oh, hey guys!”
You feel a heavy arm around your shoulder and turn to see, to your abject horror, Mingyu, who scoots his way onto the bench to squeeze in next to you. “What are you doing here,” you hiss at your oversized interloper, but Mingyu just glances pointedly at the spot two tables down where a bunch of upperclassmen are sitting and chatting. You recognize Choi Seungcheol, the president of Mingyu’s frat, and you sigh and deflate. Fine. A promise is a promise.
You smile weakly at the other three guys sitting at your table. “Surprise,” you say flatly,” Mingyu is my boyfriend now.”
You’re momentarily distracted by a loud honking noise as Junhui narrowly avoids choking on his bubble tea and spraying the table through his nose. 
“Mingyu?!” Minghao sounds simultaneously dismayed and slightly judgemental.
“C’mon, dude,” Mingyu whines, slumping like a kicked puppy. You pat his bicep soothingly. “You don’t have to make it sound that bad.”
Minghao and Junhui share a conspicuous glance. Mingyu isn’t the type of guy you’d usually go for, but you think this reaction is a bit uncalled for. “He’s not that bad,” you find yourself defending your fake boyfriend. “Mingyu is nice, and he’s really tall.”
You blink. Mingyu turns his pout on you now. “Nice and really tall? Are you for real?”
“It’s true,” you scowl at him. “Are you here to study, or did you just come by to get on my nerves?”
“Okay, well,” Junhui interjects sharply, “Wonwoo and I should get going.”
“Wait, but you two just got here,” you attempt to protest, but Wonwoo, who had been quiet this whole time, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulder.
“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he says to you, before leaving along with Junhui. 
(It’s not until later, when you’re lounging with Minghao in the living room of your shared apartment, that it hits you, again, but this time with its full weight.
“Wonwoo likes someone,” you say out loud. It’s not a question.
Minghao glances up form his book at you with a frown plastered across his face, his brows creased with irritation. He evaluates you carefully over the silver rims of his glasses, which you know aren’t prescription but are mainly there to make him look elegant and intellectual.
“...yes,” he finally acknowledges.
You frown despite yourself. “I wonder who it is.”
“What does it matter to you,” Minghao scoffs, “you’re dating Mingyu, remember?”
“You can pretend to hate Gyu, but I know you like him better than any of the rest of us.” You really hadn’t been expecting to defend Mingyu twice in a day, but you suppose that’s life as Kim Mingyu’s girlfriend. “And anyways, Wonwoo and I have been friends since we were kids. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me earlier.”
“Yeah, he probably can’t believe it either,” Minghao mutters under his breath so quietly, you almost miss it. Then, in a louder voice, he chides, “don’t think too much about it, yeah? You still have to reply professionally to his advice request. His anonymous advice request.”
“Right,” you sigh dejectedly, frowning at your laptop balanced across your knees. “How do I tell him that he’s not a nerd and a loser without giving away that I know who he is?”
Minghao shrugs. “Maybe tell him to be patient. Or maybe tell him to try to start getting over his crush.”
You consider his suggestion for a moment. It’s appealing, but then the thought of Wonwoo wasting away in his dark bedroom, sighing as he pines over his unrequited love, flashes across your mind. “I just don’t want him to be sad.”)
.
.
.
“C’mon, he was right on top of you,” Wonwoo complains. You can hear the creaking of his gaming chair in the background, undoubtedly as he rises from his reclined position to gulp down more of whatever energy drink he has in his mini fridge this week. You groan and dig your fingers into the junction between your neck and shoulder, trying with little success to work out the knot that’s developed over this last round of PUBG.
“Wonwoo, that’s the problem, I suck at close range,” you huff in response, “you know I get panicky and forget to turn off auto-fire.”
It’s game night, and you and Wonwoo have been at it for the past two hours. Your paper isn’t done yet, but it can wait. It’s been over a decade since the years when the two of you would spend your summers together playing video games and walking aimlessly around the neighborhood with half-melted popsicles, talking for hours. But even as your social circles diverted from his, it’s always been something of an unspoken agreement that for this, you’d always make time for Wonwoo, and he’d always make time for you.
“Another round?” You and Wonwoo both ask the question at the same time. There’s a pause, and then you’re both laughing. Even over the headset mic, Wonwoo’s laugh is loud and unrestrained. It feels like a secret, a side of Wonwoo that he saves just for you and for Friday nights spent on opposite sides of the monitor.
“So.” You’re still waiting for the next match to start when Wonwoo breaks the comfortable silence. “Mingyu?”
You fidget at the ties of your hoodie. It’s stolen from Wonwoo, and you’ve had it since middle school at least. “Yeah?”
“Interesting choice.”
“What does that mean?”
He makes a casual, noncommittal noise. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t see it coming, and you didn’t tell me about it.”
You open your mouth to tell him that it’s actually all a ruse, to explain the whole situation, but the hard, petulant edge to his voice makes you pause. Wonwoo sounds… upset. But not quite upset. Jealous?
“Wonwoo,” you laugh. Onscreen, the timer counting down to the start of the match appears, and you jam on the space bar to make your character jump over his character’s prone body. “Wonwoo, are you jealous?”
Over your headphones, you hear the sound of his gaming chair squeaking. “I’m not jealous,” he says, in a tone of voice that sounds exactly like Wonwoo when he’s jealous. 
“You are. Where are we landing?” You toggle to the map in the game and zoom in on the path that the plane is taking. The player count in the bottom starts dropping as other players jump out. 
“Blue marker, does that look good to you? There’s a few houses we can loot, and it’s not close to the flight path. If we get bad circle placement, you can shoot me in the foot, if you want. As a treat.”
“Yeah, fine. Lead the way, boss. Anyways, why are you jealous?” You suppress the flutter in your chest. There’s no reason for you to get your hopes up. 
“You’re my friend,” Wonwoo says simply. It feels like a heavy towel being thrown over you. “You used to tell me everything. Mingyu is… fine,” he admits reluctantly. “He’s a good guy. I’m happy for you.”
Your heart clenches. You want to say something soft and sincere, but instead, you return with a jab. “You can’t be upset at me for keeping secrets, Wonwoo. What was Junhui saying about you liking someone?”
“Junhui just says stuff sometimes,” he replies curtly. 
You frown. “Junhui isn’t a liar, though. Who is it?” You ask, despite everything in you telling yourself that you don’t want to know the answer. “Who are they? Maybe I can talk to them for you.”
He laughs humorlessly. “It doesn’t matter. She’s in a relationship with someone else.”
You almost sigh in relief, but you stop yourself just in time. Why are you relieved? “Oh, Wonwoo. That sucks. She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”
Wonwoo makes a noise that tells you he’s shrugging. “She deserves better than me.”
“Hey!” You sit up, straightening your spine in indignation. “Don’t say that. You’re great, Wonwoo. You’re criminally underappreciated. You’re smart and you’re so sincere and kind, and maybe other people don’t acknowledge it, but you’re really funny and interesting.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and the only thing you hear is the game audio as your character collects supplies and clears the building the two of you are in. “Let me know if you find any gun that’s not a pistol, by the way. I have a 2x scope on me.”
“Thank you,” Wonwoo replies. You know he’s not talking about the scope.
Even though the two of you are gaming individually in your own rooms, you want nothing more than to tug off your headphones and go down the two flights of stairs to Wonwoo’s apartment and give him a hug.
“I have an AKM and a bunch of healing items on me,” Wonwoo says, “come to me and you can have whatever you want.”
.
.
.
It would have been much less embarrassing if you had realized it last week when you were walking to class and Wonwoo had stopped you in the middle of the sidewalk to pluck a fallen leaf from your hair with that stupidly fond expression plastered on his face; or maybe when you accidentally fell asleep in his bed during an afternoon study session and woke up later with your head on his shoulder, legs tangled together, the sound of his soft snoring puffing in your ear, his hand held loosely in yours. Maybe in another life, it would have been one of those soft, romantic moments, like something out of a coming of age anime. But no, because you’re you and your life is the way it is, the moment you realize you’re in love with Wonwoo goes like this:
It’s Sunday, noon already, and you’re in Wonwoo’s shared apartment. Junhui had let you in earlier when you had knocked at their door until your knuckles were sore. When you burst unceremoniously into Wonwoo’s bedroom, he’s still asleep with his glasses on, smudged and crooked, and his phone on his chest. You frown. “Wake up, Wonwoo. Did you fall asleep while watching dramas again?”
Wonwoo jumps slightly and lifts his head, brows furrowing. “Huh?”
“You said you’d go to lunch with me.” You extend your arms and spin to show off your cute, perfectly coordinated outfit, picked out specifically to match the instagram trap you’re going to. You even broke out the eyeliner and glitter eyeshadow to match the cute knit cardigan and wool miniskirt you put on. “What hat should I wear? The fuzzy bucket hat,” you hold up option one, “or the beret,” you hold up option two, looking down at Wonwoo expectantly.
Your best friend groans and collapses back onto the bed, eyes sliding shut. “Um. The beret.”
“Okay great, now get out of bed. Our reservation is soon and you still need to wash your face and get dressed.” You poke at his cheek, which is greasy from sleep and still bears the imprint of his pillow. 
“Can you get Minghao to go with you instead?” He doesn’t bother opening his eyes.
“Nope,” you respond, popping the ‘p’, “he has dance practice.”
“Mingyu?”
“He said he had a textile arts club meeting?” You frown. “I’m not sure what it is, but he’s been crocheting like crazy for it this week.”
“Um,” Wonwoo smacks his hand over his face, clearly trying to think of other options. He forgets, however, that he fell asleep with his glasses on, and ends up jamming the frames against this cheek. “Ow. Ok, what about, uh, Seokmin?”
You pout at him even though he can’t see it. “Wonu,” you whine, sitting down on his bed, “I want to go to lunch with you, though.”
At that, he finally cracks his eyes open. “Why?”
Because, you want to say, I don’t want to do this with anybody other than you. You briefly try to imagine doing this whole thing– dressing up, making a reservation, taking pictures and walking around town, huddling together in a cafe in the afternoon to watch the latest Nintendo Direct together– with anybody else, but you just quite settle on it comfortably. No. It has to be Wonwoo. Because Wonwoo is your best friend, because Wonwoo has always been there for you, because Wonwoo just gets you, better than anybody ever has, and every moment you spend with Wonwoo, you feel your mood lifting and relaxing. Because you trust Wonwoo and he trusts you, and because you know him, and you love him–
You love him.
Oh.
Oh.
You’ll have to process that later. “Because you have a car and you can drive me,” you tell Wonwoo instead, shoving the revelation down to the back of your mind and putting it in a box labeled problems for future me.
“Fine,” Wonwoo acquiesces, sitting up with enormous effort. His hair is still sticking up in all directions, making him look like a big dark dandelion. A part of you expects to see him in a different light, now that you think you love him, like there’s supposed to be cherubs singing and starlight in his eyes or something, but instead, you just see regular old Wonwoo. Your best friend. He doesn’t suddenly look like a vision sent from heaven, he just looks sleepy and crusty and a little greasy.
“Hurry up and brush your teeth,” you tell him, slapping him lightly on his belly and laughing at the resulting ouuff that jerks out of him, “you have morning breath and I can smell it from here.”
.
.
.
Dear Cherry, my friend is in love with his childhood friend but she doesn’t love him back :( how do we make her fall in love with him? from anonymous
“Hm,” you sigh out loud, “I wonder if Soonyoung knows that the anonymous signoff is made moot by the fact that he emailed this one in instead of using the anonymous submission box.” You’re draped on the couch with your legs propped all the way up and your laptop on your chest as you scroll through this week’s Am I The Asshole Wednesday submissions.
“You can ignore him,” Minghao says, passing by with a full bottle of wine in each hand on his way to put them away in the kitchen. “I don’t think you should be giving any love advice when your own love life is a mess,” he sniffs. 
“You’re the asshole,” you announce, not looking up from your screen. “That was for you, Minghao.” Clearly, he’s still mad at you after you had revealed the whole Mingyu situation to him a few nights ago. You still remember the blistering look that Minghao had thrown at you, like you’re the dumbest human he’s ever had the supreme displeasure of knowing.
“I guess you don’t want to go to the dance team party with me, then,” your roommate responds smoothly, returning from the kitchen. It’s only 6pm, but Minghao is already dressed in a silk pajama set with a matching robe, lenseless glasses frames perched on the tip of his nose, smelling of strawberry-scented lotion as he pours himself a glass of wine.
You scowl at him.  “Fine. I don’t care.” Turning back to your laptop, you scroll past a few more boring submissions on your hunt for the truly salacious stuff your classmates get up to. “I wonder what Soonyoung is even talking about, though,” you mumble, half to yourself, as you click on the next interesting subject line.
.
.
.
In retrospect, Mingyu was definitely going to win that Greek God competition, even if Jaehyun from Nu Kapp put up a good fight.
Mingyu’s physique is certainly impressive, and the audience erupted when he won the (shirtless and oiled-up, for some reason) pushup contest, but his clumsiness eventually led him to lose at every other physical challenge. It was his overwhelming victory in the popularity vote and personality contest that got him to first place. It’s probably all because of his unwavering friendliness and his constant need for affirmation manifesting into an overwhelming desire to be helpful, but you like to think that maybe you helped too.
That’s why you’re here, in the kitchen of the Sigma house, absolutely wasted at the celebration party the frat is throwing in honor of Mingyu being crowned the best frat star on campus. Between the blunt that you, Mingyu, Minghao, and Seokmin, another friend in your year, had passed around upstairs, and all the shots that Mingyu had plied you with, you’re feeling weirdly bouncy and giggly and not entirely sure if you’ll remember this the next morning.
“Okay, so,” Mingyu mumbles, pulling you closer as the two of you nestle in a corner, away from whatever is going on at the beer pong table, “we should stage a breakup, right?”
You giggle against the hollow of his throat, arms looped over his shoulders. “Can we make it your fault?”
He whines like a kicked puppy. “Why can’t we make it mutual? Jeonghan would kick my ass.”
“Fine, fine,” you huff, not at all reluctant. “We should give it some time so it’s not suspicious, right?”
“Yeah.” Mingyu nods, accidentally knocking his chin against your forehead. “You’re so smart.”
“Which means I’m still on girlfriend duty tonight,” you conclude.
“Oh, come on.” Mingyu’s hands come down to rest at your waist, his fingertips skimming along the waistband of your skirt, eliciting a shiver from you when you feel his rough, warm skin against yours. “You make it sound like a chore.”
You sigh. Oh well, you could do much worse than Mingyu.
You’re not sure if it’s the weed or the alcohol, or maybe just jealousy at this fake version of yourself that’s happy with a boyfriend and not moping over an unrequited crush on your childhood best friend, but you find it strangely easy to lean up and attach your lips to Mingyu’s, feel the wet heat of his tongue in your mouth. and Mingyu, pliant under your grip as always, kisses you back, going along with it without a second thought.
“No offense,” he pants as he parts from you, “but I don’t think I want to hook up with you.”
You blink at him. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No, no,” he clarifies quickly, “you’re a good kisser, I just don’t want things to be weird between us, which I think might happen if we hook up.”
“If fake dating didn’t make things weird, I’m not sure that hooking up would,” you laugh, more of a giggle than anything. You attach your lips to his jaw, pulling him down towards you so you don’t have to crane your neck. 
“And also,” he nudges at the hair behind your ear with his nose, “you’re like, totally wasted right now.”
“You’re not sober either,” you shoot back, accusatory.
“More sober than you,” he shoots back. He’s right, though. His large stature means that he can hold his liquor much better than you. “It wouldn’t be fair,” he pouts, stubborn, “and I’m not a creep.”
“Fine.” You tug lightly at the short hairs on the back of his head. 
“Are… are you okay?”
Mingyu’s question makes you hesitate for a moment. You lean your flushed cheek against the jut of his collarbone. “I’m drunk,” you respond flatly.
“No, not that, you’re just usually not this…” you feel Mingyu gulp, “clingy.”
You wonder if you should tell him about Wonwoo and your stupid pointless crush that’s starting to feel less like a crush every time you’re with him and more like… something deeper. Something frightening, like a yawning chasm, just waiting for you to fall in.
You’re saved the effort of further deliberation, however, when Mingyu suddenly raises his head and interrupts your thoughts. “Hey, isn’t that Wonwoo?”
You lift yourself off of Mingyu’s chest and look behind you. True to his word, it really is Wonwoo, standing by the door, jacket on, looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights. 
“Huh, he doesn’t usually come to these,” Mingyu observes, tugging idly at the bottom of your shirt. “I wonder why he’s here.”
You think you know why he’s here, though. Earlier, back upstairs, you had excused yourself to the bathroom to take a quick breather. Through an alcohol and weed induced haze, you had belatedly realized that it’s Friday night, and you’re late.
you: cn you come pick me u you: at sigma wonu: are you ok? i’ll be there in a few you: sry im drunk you: wanna go home w u
Now, staring Wonwoo dead in the eyes, you realize with a jolt that you had never told him why you asked him to pick you up. You peel yourself off your fake boyfriend and stumble, clumsily, towards Wonwoo, trying your best to ignore the way the room spins around you.
“Wonu,” you whine reaching out to him.
He frowns. “Are you okay? What’s happening?”
“I’m drunk,” you tell him.
“I know.” He extends his arm and lets you cling on to him as you stumble into his torso.
“And it’s Friday night,” you look up at him.
“Yes.”
“We’re supposed to be playing Overwatch together.” You give him the best puppy eyes you can muster, and he blinks at you, looking flustered.
“Huh?”
“Overwatch,” you insist, tugging him towards the door. “Friday night. It’s Wonwoo and Y/N night.”
“Is… is this what you called me over here for?”
You nod and begin dragging Wonwoo out by the wrist. 
The cool air outside hits your flushed skin like a wave, like you’re jumping into a pool. Wonwoo is silent and lets you continue to cling onto him as he walks you to where he had parked on the side of the street, directly under a streetlight.
You slide into the passenger seat. Wonwoo hands you a bottle of water, cap already removed for you. “Hydrate,” he orders. 
“Sorry,” you whimper, somewhat pathetically.
He frowns. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I must be so annoying,” you mumble, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.
“No,” Wonwoo reaches out and takes your hand over the center console. “You’re not annoying.”
You watch him as he drives. He’s so handsome, your alcohol-addled mind supplies. 
“You don’t think I’m annoying?”
“Never.”
Wonwoo says it like a promise.
Silence falls over the two of you as he drives through campus, all the way back to the student housing unit that both of you live in. He turns off the engine, leaving a silence that feels even more all-encompassing. He looks over at you, face half hidden in the shadows and half illuminated by the orange lamplight outside. “Is Minghao home?”
“N…no, he’s back at the party.”
“Okay, we’re going back to my apartment, then,” he decides.
You blink. “Huh?” But you’re already stumbling out of his car and spilling onto the sidewalk, all wobbly legs and loose limbs. 
“I’m taking you back to my place,” Wonwoo repeats. “You need someone to watch you and make sure you don’t wander off and get lost in the city,” he explains drily.
“‘M okay,” you whine futilely. It’s especially unconvincing, since you’re still stumbling over your own feet and leaning against him. 
Wonwoo lets you rest your cheek on his shoulder and cling onto him as he lets you into his apartment, gets you a glass of water, and digs up a pack of makeup wipes from out of nowhere and sits you on his bed and starts to get to work. 
A small (very drunk) part of you bristles at the appearance of the makeup wipes, and you try to scowl, even as Wonwoo gently wipes at your smudged eyeliner. “Whose are these? Do you have a lot of girls over here or something?”
“They’re Junhui’s, he uses them,” Wonwoo explains. He dabs at one last spot in the corner of your right eye, then announces, “there, you’re all done.”
You open your eyes to see Wonwoo grinning dopily at you. “You’re cute,” you poke at his cheek, and he laughs quietly. Seokmin used to be afraid of him, he had confessed to you, and you wonder why, because the Wonwoo you know is so soft, so loveable, so goofy and cute. 
The Wonwoo you know is shy and awkward and doesn’t quite know how to fit himself into social situations. He’s clumsy and absentminded and needs someone to take care of him, to dote on him and give him attention.
The Wonwoo that you know, you’ve known since you were in second grade, standing over the boy you had knocked over with a rubber kickball, staring at him as he sniffled on the woodchips and glared at you through big watery eyes. That day, you decided right then and there that this boy would be yours, and now…
“Wonwoo,” you blurt out without thinking, “I’m in love with you.”
His breath catches. Wonwoo pauses, digesting your clumsily delivered confession, and then he makes the most awful expression you have ever seen on him.
It’s raw hurt, sharp, painful. His mouth twists and his brows furrow and he looks at you like you’re something to be afraid of. You hate it. You hate that you’re the cause of it, that he’s feeling this, whatever it is, because of you, even though you’re not sure why.
“Really,” you insist. You reach out to grab his hand, but he pulls away from you. “It’s true. I’m in love with you.”
You hear a sharp intake of breath. “You’re not,” he says. “You’re in love with Mingyu. You’re happy with him.”
“I’m not… I’m not in love with him,” you try to explain, but your liquor-numbed lips are clumsy and you trip over your words. You lean towards him, slanting your face up, because you want to kiss him so badly it’s all you can think of. Wonwoo shoves you back, hard. 
“Don’t,” he bites, voice sharp and tense.
“I’m in love with you,” you repeat, reaching out to him, but he pushes your hand back and steps away. Like he’s afraid of you.
“Don’t do it. You’re drunk.” His voice wavers slightly. “Don’t do something you’ll regret tomorrow.”
You shake your head, but Wonwoo looks at you with so much hurt and confusion in his eyes, you can’t bring yourself to argue. “Wonu,” you whisper, reaching out to rest your fingertips on his wrist, “please don’t cry.”
He takes a long, shuddering breath, eyes closed, and then when he exhales and opens his eyes again, his expression is impassive. Unreadable.
“Go to sleep,” he says flatly. “Tomorrow you’ll wake up and go back to your boyfriend, and you’ll be happy that nothing happened tonight.”
He closes the door to his bedroom, leaving you in the darkness.
(Wonwoo is cold.
He’s always a little cold, but in his haste to escape earlier, he hadn’t gotten a blanket or even changed into sweats before closing the door behind him, and now Wonwoo lays on the couch, his feet hanging over the armrest, staring at the ceiling. 
I’m in love with you, your voice rings in his head. Wonwoo’s cheek still burns where you had gently rested your hand earlier. If he hadn’t known any better, Wonwoo might have believed you and given in to his most guilty, far-off fantasy, the one where you love him back.
But Wonwoo does know better. He saw the way you were draped all over Mingyu at the party, the way you giggled into his neck when Mingyu slipped his fingertips under the him of your shirt. Mingyu is good for you, Wonwoo decides. Like you, Mingyu is bright and out-going, popular, well-liked, good at receiving love and gives it readily in return. 
Wonwoo closes his eyes, tries to push away the memory of your body curled into his, and wills his mind into silence so that maybe he can get some sleep tonight.)
You wake up, nauseous and hung over and feeling not at all rested, in Wonwoo’s bed.
Groaning, you swipe at your face, expecting to see a gloopy mess on your fingers, but your makeup has already been removed. You squint at the dim sunlight streaming in through the closed blinds, and you reach around blindly until your fingers close around your phone. 
There’s a smattering of random social media notifications and updates from group chats, but one notification in particular catches your eye.
wonu: i’m outside wonu: where are you? are you ok? wonu: i’m gonna head inside to look for you
You feel your cheeks flush as the memories come trickling back– your drunk texts, insisting that your best friend picks you up, kissing Mingyu, leaving the party with Wonwoo, clinging on to him like a koala…
Gathering your courage and steeling your woozy stomach, you stumble out of bed and throw open the door, poking your head out. Wonwoo is sprawled across the couch, undoubtedly playing some kind of mobile game, when he looks up at you. His hair is sticking up in every possible direction and his shirt is crumpled. “Hi,” he says, expression impossibly neutral.
“Hi,” you grin, waving lamely. “I feel like shit. I didn’t say anything weird or embarrassing last night, did I?”
He raises an eyebrow at you. “You don’t remember?”
You shake your head. “I remember you picking me up from the frat, I think.”
For a split second, he looks relieved. Then, he puts his phone down and laughs at you. “You didn’t do anything embarrassing,” he grins, “except for abandoning your boyfriend at the party because you wanted to play Overwatch with me. C’mon, do you want to get brunch?”
You press your palms against your throbbing forehead. Your brain hurts, and you’re almost sure you half-remember telling Wonwoo that you’re in love with him, but Wonwoo is looking at you expectantly and you’d like nothing more than some french toast and a hot coffee right now, so you shrug. “Sure, lemme wash up and get changed in my apartment first.”
.
.
.
“Dear Cherry, my friend is hopelessly in love with his childhood best friend, who is currently dating a hot frat dude. Should he just give up? The moping is starting to bum me out and I’m worried my hair is going to fall out. Love, Wen Junhui.”
You wrinkle your nose at the message. “And has anybody ever told Junhui that the whole point of anonymous submissions is defeated when he signs his messages with his full name?”
Minghao looks up from the canvas he’s busy splattering paint on. It’s his semester final project, and you had promised to accompany him in the basement of the fine arts building as he works.
Instead of answering, he looks at you like you’re the densest human he’s ever had the misfortune of meeting. “Maybe he’s not trying to be anonymous. Maybe he’s trying to complain about someone we know.”
You squint at your laptop screen. “Who is this supposed to be about, anyways?”
This time, Minghao actually rolls his eyes at you. “Whatever. Have you broken up with Mingyu yet?”
“Yeah, we broke up two days ago. It was mutual, because Mingyu was genuinely afraid that Jeonghan would kick his ass if we said we broke up with me.”
The two of you had made a whole show of deleting all your carefully staged couple photos off your social media accounts, and then unfollowing and refollowing each other within the span of two days, because as the story goes, you and Mingyu had talked it over and are better as friends than as a couple.
“That’s nice,” Minghao says. He unscrews a jar of turpentine and starts to clean off his brushes. “Maybe you should respond to Junhui’s advice submission.”
You groan. “I’ll just tell him to tell his friend to get over it,” you scowl.
“By the way, what’s wrong with Wonwoo?”
“What do you mean?” You look up. Minghao is now attacking the canvas with a palette knife, carving some dramatic impasto into the paint.
“The last two times all of us hung out together, he’s been all…weird.” Minghao wrinkles his nose. “It’s like he’s some kind of guilty dog. He stares at you when you’re not looking, and then he looks away when you are.”
You chew on your lip, work now long forgotten on your idle laptop. Minghao is right. Wonwoo has been different, but not… different. He’s as unwaveringly weird as always, and he’s been texting you links to youtube cat videos and starting arguments on video game theories as always, but it feels like Wonwoo has been aggressively normal. Like how best friends are supposed to be. Light and easy.
“I don’t know. I feel like he’s been acting weird these days too, but I can’t figure out how.”
“You should talk to him,” Minghao says, like talking to Wonwoo about his feelings is easy or something. Or like talking about your own feelings is easy.  
“Or maybe I shouldn’t,” you sigh. Whatever is going on with Wonwoo, you’re just glad he still wants to hang out with you. You’re not entirely sure what you even did wrong, but you’d be willing to beg on your hands and knees for him to forgive you and to stick by your side. “Whatever. We’re gaming together this Friday, I’ll think about it then, I guess.”
.
.
.
“Wonu, I’m scared,” you whine into the mic. It’s another Friday night and the two of you are playing PUBG again. You’re in the endgame now– the original 100 has been whittled down to just 5 players remaining, including you but not including Wonwoo, who had been killed earlier and is now spectating you in-game like some sort of ghost. 
“Just sit tight,” he instructs. In your mind’s eye, he’s leaning back in his gaming chair, arms crossed as he observes your gameplay. 
“There’s gunshots,” you complain, “North? I think they’re hiding by those rocks. It sounds like they’ve got a good sniper rifle, too.”
“They don’t know you’re there. Just let the other teams fight it out. You have enough ammo?”
You huff. “I have like, twelve shotgun shells.”
“And you have the location advantage. Just sit and wait for now.”
You sigh, aimlessly panning the camera back and forth in your anxiety. “Fine,” you agree, because despite it all, Wonwoo is still better at this game than you are, and because you trust him. 
Seconds pass. The audio of distant gunfire in crisp surround sound keeps you on edge and tense, so that when you hear Soonyoung, one of Wonwoo’s roommates, you nearly jump out of your skin. 
“Hey, are you busy?”
“Yeah,” Wonwoo replies. His voice is tinny and quiet, but still clear, like he’s slipped his headset off and mic is pushed away. “I’m gaming with Y/N. I’m muted, don’t worry.”
You’re about to shout and let him know that he’s not actually muted, but your curiosity gets the better of you when you hear Soonyoung’s next words:
“Right, speaking of Y/N, that reminds me. Did you hear that Y/N and Mingyu broke up?”
“Oh.” There’s a pause, and then you hear Wonwoo ask, “why?”
“Dunno. Mingyu wouldn’t give me any details. He said something lame, like that they’re better off as friends, or something.”
“Oh. When did this happen?”
“I think on Wednesday? At least that’s what Seungkwan told me.”
“Hm.”
“Anyways, isn’t that great? You can finally shoot your shot!”
“Are you insane, Soonyoung? It’s been less than a week!”
“Well, okay, fair. But next week? She didn’t seem too sad about it in class today.”
“That’s because she was in class. And anyways, this doesn’t change anything between us, so I’m not going to do anything either.”
“Are you kidding me? So you’re just going to keep it a secret forever?”
“Yeah. I’ll die before I tell Y/N that I’m in love with her.”
Oh.
You sit at your desk, staring at your monitor but not seeing anything. Very quietly, you press your fingers against your lips, as hard as you can, and feel the blood rushing past your ears. 
“I’m not going to ruin our friendship over nothing,” Wonwoo continues.
“It’s not nothing,” Soonyoung replies with a pout in his voice. “You’ve been in love with her for years. Since high school, at least.”
“She just sees me as a friend, that’s all,” Wonwoo sighs. 
Since high school. He’s loved you since high school.
You remember the way he looked at you after prom when he was dropping you back off at home. You had gone with him because the boy you wanted to ask you, some boring soccer player, had asked your friend instead, and Jaehyun had already asked (and been rejected by you) twice, and nobody else had asked you to be their prom date. And Wonwoo, awkward and quiet as he was, had fully expected to skip prom completely, but three days before you had shown up at his locker after school, desperate because you already had a dress and a group to go with and tickets but no date, practically begging him to go to prom with you. And without even thinking, Wonwoo had agreed.
That night, when he drive you home, you leaned your head against the car door with the windows rolled down and felt the wind on your face. At the end, when he parked his car on the side of the street in front of your childhood home, you looked over at him and told him. “I’m so glad we’re going to college together, Wonwoo. I want to be with you forever.”
And he had watched you as you said it, quiet, like he was breathless. Like you had said something terrible and incredible at the same time. 
It’s always been Wonwoo beside you, lazy summers spent playing video games, late night phone calls where you’d talk and he’d listen, after class in his car listening to the radio and eating junk food. Had he loved you then? With ketchup on your shirt and acne across your face and poorly box-dyed hair? And had you loved him then too? Before you even knew what love is?
The weight of it is heavy, settling in your stomach like a hot stone. It almost hurts, how much you feel.
You’re interrupted by a very loud spate of gunfire piercing your eardrums and making you jump,  shrieking loudly as you’re killed in-game. Onscreen, your bloodied character rolls limply down the hill as “Better luck next time! #2/48” flashes on top of your game stats.
“Aw, second place, so close,” you hear Wonwoo say. Then he pauses. “Wait. Was I not muted just now?”
“Wonwoo, I’m going downstairs,” you tell him.
“Wait–” his voice is tight and panicked, but you’re already tugging your headset off and grabbing your keys.
You nearly avoid tripping over your feet as you run to the stairwell at the end of the hall and fly down the two flights of stairs, to where Wonwoo is. By the time you’re banging at their door, you’re out of breath and flushed. You’re not sure if the pounding of your heart is from the exertion or if it’s from something else. Anxiety, maybe. Fear. Exhilaration.
Wonwoo answers the door. He looks exactly like you’d expect, with his rumpled tee shirt and sweatpants and bare feet, his glasses on and his bangs pushed back with the bunny shower headband you bought for him last year.
“Hi,” you grin breathlessly at him.
“Hi,” he replies.
“Can I come in?”
He takes a deep breath, like he’s steeling his nerves. “Yeah.” He opens the door wider and steps aside to let you in, and you follow Wonwoo to his room.
It’s dimly lit with the rainbow glow of his gaming setup and the ready screen for PUBG still up on one of his monitors. Wonwoo flicks on the overhead light, which throws the room into sharp relief. The sudden brightness makes everything feel more real, somehow. 
You sit on the edge of Wonwoo’s bed and pat the spot net to you, which he takes. “Wonwoo,” you say.
Wonwoo purses his lips. “How much of that did you hear earlier?”
“All of it,” you chew the inside of your cheek, drumming your fingers against the bedspread. 
“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “You can pretend I didn’t say any of that.”
“Did you mean it?”
“Huh?” He stares at you with wide eyes.
“What you said earlier.” You pick at a loose thread poking from the hem of your shirt. “Did you mean it when you said you’re in love with me?”
He hesitates, frowning as a conflicted expression briefly flashes across his face, eyebrows drawing together. 
“Wonwoo?” You call his name gently to get his attention. “I’m in love with you too, Wonwoo.”
“I–what?” Wonwoo looks at you like you’ve brown another head. “But, you...  Mingyu?”
You furrow your brows at him. “Mingyu? Didn’t I tell you? We were just faking so he could win that Greek God competition and get free parking next semester.”
“Wait,” he sputters, “so all of that was fake? You were just pretending to be in a relationship?”
“Yeah. I don’t care about Mingyu, I have feelings for you, Wonwoo.”
“You.” Wonwoo takes a deep breath. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I did!” You widen your eyes, adamant. “At karaoke back in October. You, me, Minghao, and Junhui?” It had been after a particularly grueling set of midterms, and the four of you had gone out for some korean barbeque, followed by boba and an extended noraebang session. While Junhui was crooning to an old Cantonese ballad, you were squished on a couch with Minghao and Wonwoo, and the three of you were talking idly about Junhui’s most recent date.
It’s funny, you remember turning and mumbling to Wonwoo, did I ever tell you that Mingyu and I are faking our whole relationship for clout? But Wonwoo hadn’t responded, so you assumed that he didn’t care. Now, it’s looking more like he didn’t even hear you.
“I was asleep,” Wonwoo states in flat disbelief.
“You were asleep,” you repeat slowly.
“It was dark and I was tired. You didn’t notice that I passed out as soon as we dimmed the lights?” He raises his eyebrows as he defends himself, and you bury your face in your hands.
Click. The pieces are all falling in place.
“Wonwoo. I’m so dumb,” you moan. “I run the Ask Cherry column. All those messages from Junhui and Soonyoung. They were about you, weren’t they?”
“Messages? There were more after the first one?!”
“And they were about you being in love with me,” you recall. “This whole time, I thought you liked someone else. Someone who isn’t me.”
There’s a pause. You can hear the sound of Wonwoo’s PC whirring in the background. And then, Wonwoo starts laughing, choked and quiet at first, and then loud, incredulous, almost.
“God,” he gasps between laughs, “we’re both so, so stupid.” And then you’re laughing too.
In retrospect, it’s all ridiculous, this entire situation. You collapse back onto Wonwoo’s bed and laugh until your ribs hurt, and when you turn your head to the side, there’s Wonwoo laying beside you, glasses askew, grinning.
You giggle and reach out to straighten his glasses. “Hi,” you say to him.
“Hi,” he says back, getting up to lean on one elbow. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.”
You feel your smile widen so much, your cheeks hurt. “I’m in love with you, Jeon Wonwoo.”
He looks at you with so much fondness, it takes your breath away. It’s the way he’s always looked at you, you realize, since the two of you weren’t much more than a pair of kids.
“So, now what?”
“Hmm.” You pretend to think. “Can you kiss me about it, then?”
Wonwoo nods, and his hair flops over the bunny headband as he moves his head. “Yeah,” he says, “I think I can do that.”
.
.
.
(Afterwards, a lot less changes with your relationship with Wonwoo than you thought. After all, he was your best friend for much, much longer than he’s been your boyfriend. He still sends you cat videos at strange hours of the night, and he still sticks sullenly by your side during social outings. Friday nights are still game nights, of course, but now it’s mostly spent on your shared Stardew Valley co-op or cuddling in bed while playing Pokemon together. 
But one thing that changes is the kisses. You kiss Wonwoo whenever you can, because you have so much love to give him and not enough time in the day to tell him all the ways you love him. You try, though, to tell him every moment you can that he’s the cutest, smartest, sweetest, kindest, funniest boy in the world, and that he’s the best friend and boyfriend you could ever ask for.
Wonwoo has a harder time with his feelings, but you know, even without saying. It’s in the way that his fingers linger over your hand when he drops you off in front of your classroom, and the way he gives you first pick on all the best loot when you’re gaming together. And when it’s really late at night and the two of you are huddled under the blankets together, listening to the way your heartbeats collide, he whispers it too. “I love you.”
And, Minghao finally admits it. “Fine,” he grumbles reluctantly while the two of you are preparing the upcoming edition of Ask Cherry, “maybe you’re qualified to give love advice after all.”)
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fanfic-obsessed · 9 months
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Fundemental Cultural Misunderstanding
Can I just say that there is so much humor potential in Star as far as cultural misunderstandings go. 
Try this AU on for size. 
-Note:Though it is not necessary for this idea, it is important to me for you to know that in this world Anakin did not slaughter the Tuskens. He reached Shimi in time to save her and his focus was getting her to safety. Thus his relationship with Padme is much healthier.-
Anakin on a fundamental, and somewhat deliberate, level misunderstands some parts of Jedi culture. He believes that Jedi cannot get married.  In this world, this is not true.  
Marriage in this Jedi culture includes a marriage bond between all parties that, if not set up correctly, can do a fair amount of damage (and even when set up correctly doesn’t provide more than a sense of the other person's physical condition and emotions; rarely bonded might be compatible enough that that they can track each other through the bond). This is particularly true if one of the parties is not Force sensitive, or one of the parties is particularly Force Sensitive. So there is a lot of pomp and ceremony around getting married in the Jedi tradition to make sure the bond is correctly set up. Also consent is such a large portion of Jedi culture, so extra pains are taken to make sure non force sensitives understand what such a bond might mean…to the point where it freaks out most non force sensitives.  This all culminates in, by the time of the prequels, most Jedi just don’t get married.
-It should also be noted that marriage as a legal institution and marriage as a cultural institution are actually two very different things, though they are often conflated. Marriage as a legal institution means absolutely nothing to Jedi, and in fact many cultures, because the rights granted by the legal institution of marriage either don’t apply to Jedi or are covered by other Jedi related laws.-
This is also misunderstood by the Galaxy at large.  Also, because of this misunderstanding most cultures do not discuss their marriage customs with Jedi, sure it might come up organically but no one thinks that this is a cultural norm that the Jedi need to know. Which means as much as the Galaxy misunderstands the Jedi’s marriage customs, the Jedi misunderstand most other cultures' marriage customs as well.  In fact the Jedi, through generations of a benign misunderstanding, believe that most cultures will not discuss their marriage customs with Jedi, so all they can go on is their own observations. 
Picture if you will, little padawans vibrating their way into the Archives, up to the nearest archivist, who drops everything because the little Padawan wants to report that they ATTENDED A WEDDING. 
This leads to the archives being chock full of conflicting information about the various marriage customs throughout the galaxy, because anything that happens at a wedding now becomes a TRADITION of that planet, even things might be just a preference of the people marrying, or even a happenstance. The Jedi have all collectively agreed that they are just gonna roll with it, no matter how strange the custom or if it contradicts anything else (It is not like they can get information directly from the source after all).
Now when Anakin got married to Padme, he thought that Jedi cannot marry.  He thinks that his elopement would have to be a secret. He does not realize that he broadcasted his joy at marrying Padme to every Force Sensitive in the galaxy (no seriously, there are Force Sensitives on planets that don’t even have space flight yet, on the other side of the galaxy that felt an abrupt and incomprehensible wave of utter joy-some of those were physiologically incapable of feeling joy like near humans and had to lay down for a while). Also, not that he realized it, the part of his Force Signature (which Jedi are taught in the creche how to read) that deals with identity flashed with the equivalent neon lighted dashboard in Times Square that he was ‘Mr. Padme Naberrie’ from that point forward. 
So when Anakin leaves on a mission, unmarried, and comes back very married, but clearly hiding it, it is quickly noticed. But no one thinks that it is Anakin who does not trust them. Of course not, he is family. They decide that this must be some heretofore unknown Naboo marriage TRADITION, elopement followed by hiding the marriage. 
No one, not a single jedi in 10,000, thought to ask Anakin directly. 
Several Archivists promptly write some very well written papers on this tradition, and how it fits into their other knowledge, basically filling in the gaps to create a tradition out of whole cloth (even though they are acting in earnest). 
The war still starts, with all that entrails. But every Jedi knows about Anakin’s ‘secret’ marriage. The little ones all giggle about it. Most are eagerly waiting for the tradition of hiding to be complete, because surely ‘The Man Without Fear’ and his wife would also want to marry in the Jedi tradition.  There was so little to be excited about these days that everyone bought into this notion, even those that had long decided they would not go through the process of the Jedi Marriage. 
The children in the creche insist on making decorations for the eventual Jedi Wedding.  In fact there were multiple sets of decorations, depending on where the happy couple wanted the ceremony performed. Just rooms and rooms of decorations and drawings and artwork of all kinds. 
The High Council, including Obi wan, started researching to make sure they knew all the steps and traditions for the Wedding backwards and forwards whenever they had the chance. The last time a Jedi Wedding had been performed was 200 years earlier and enough had happened since that even those who were alive during that time were a bit fuzzy on the details.  They wanted to be ready to support Anakin and Padme in any way possible.  Padme’s biometrics are quietly added to the Temple’s banks; ready to be activated as soon as the couple is ready. A plan is put together so that Padme can be quickly evacuated if there was an active threat against Anakin specifically, or Jedi adjacent beings in general. 
And the Archivists are practically having duels to see who would get to speak to the happy couple once the period of hiding is done. There is hope throughout the archives that maybe, if they ask really nicely, Padme would be willing to answer a few questions on Naboo marriage traditions (All the Archivists want to learn so badly, all they want to do is be able to learn. Can they please learn).
Perhaps if it had gone on much longer someone would have cottoned on to how stressed this secret was making Anakin. Maybe not.  Perhaps this world still could have ended in unimaginable tragedy. 
Perhaps in another world like this. In this world, we look to humor instead of horror. 
A little over a year into the war several of the youngling clans, ages ranging from about 4-6, got to go on a tour of the Senate.  One of the younglings (Age 4, species was Sabetue and was genderless) got separated and couldn’t find a clone guard or anyone they recognized. They were wandering and scared, but somehow made it up to the level where Padme’s office is. And the Youngling recognized Padme’s Force signature as Master Skywalker’s wife, so they knew they would be safe with her.  
So now Padme has a small Jedi child in her office. Thankfully she was not in a meeting. She manages to get a hold of the Guard, who send up two of creche masters, who had been beside themselves with worry.  While in her office the child said things that made it clear that the child knew about Padme’s marriage to Anakin and how they couldn’t wait to see how pretty she would be in the Jedi Wedding.  One of the Crechemasters very gently reminded the child that Anakin and Padme might decide not to get married in the Jedi Tradition, that it had to be their choice and followed up with:
“And if we forced them…”
The child piped back with a solemn “we would be meanies”
One of the creche masters brought the child back down to the group while the other remained behind. First to thank Padme for finding their lost child. Then also to apologize for the child breaking the Hiding Tradition, expressing a hope that this would not have any negative impact on Padme’s marriage. 
The Crechmaster seemed so proud at saying ‘Hiding Tradition’ that Padme did not have the heart to tell them that she had no idea what they were talking about (they are very proud of remembering what the Archivists were calling this tradition).  They continue to have a brief conversation where Padme learned a number of things:
The Jedi, every single one of them, knew about Padme’s marriage.
They are all, every single one of them, actively supportive instead of the at best disapproving she thought they would be.
The Jedi somehow believe that Padme and Anakin are hiding their marriage over a Naboo Tradition
There are rooms full of crafts created specifically to decorate for her wedding in the Jedi Tradition created by hordes of earnest younglings. 
The Jedi are very into consent. 
Anakin is not due back on Coruscant for another week, and during that week Padme made discrete inquiries (oddly enough these are actually discrete) that told her nothing important about what was going on and driving her to distraction. So Anakin comes back to Padme nearly screaming at him ‘Why do the Jedi think we are hiding our marriage over a Naboo tradition?’
Anakin very much does not know but suggests that they ask the Chancellor (Anakin has very much been conditioned by the Chancellor to turn to him first in any instance of confusion).
Padme stares at him for a moment, tells him that is a stupid idea and to call Obi Wan.
Anakin does not want to call Obi Wan. He does not want to tell Obi Wan about their marriage and get in trouble. 
Padme stares at him with the dead eyes of someone dealing with too much ridiculous information at once, then says ‘Call Kenobi’.
Anakin obeys. 
Obi Wan comes over, they all sit down and Padme very calmly tells Obi Wan that she and Anakin are married. Obi Wan immediately begins radiating blinding excitement.  He congratulates them and starts to ask about having a Jedi wedding before deflating again and asking if not pretending he was surprised would ruin anything. He offers to go out and they can do it again, he can pretend to be shocked. 
Padme reassures him. Anakin starts to express his surprised (in a way that would have made it really clear about why he was hiding his marriage) but Padme quickly interrupts him, asking about Jedi Wedding traditions and lets Obi Wan ramble really happily about the research that the High Council had been doing to make sure they can recreate those traditions if Padme and Anakin want.
Obi Wan leaves with a promise that Padme and Anakin would come to speak with the High Council to make sure all the legalities (making sure everything is set up so that Padme can come and go as she pleases at the temple, and have a login to access the Archives, and would it be possible for her to come in for a baseline check up so that medical their records are up to date) are taken care of. As soon he is gone Padme grabs Anakin by the collar and goes ‘we can never tell them’
Anakin goes ‘what?’ 
‘We can never tell the Jedi why we were hiding our marriage. I’ll contact my parents as soon as it is morning on Naboo. They can back us up. We can say it is an old family tradition to hide the marriage for the first year. It isn’t used much, but after being in the public eye and with the War I was feeling superstitious, ok?’
Anakin goes ‘What, Why?’
Padme shakes at the arm in her hand, ‘telling the other Jedi that you didn’t trust them with your marriage would break their hearts. Do you want to be the reason small children are crying?’
Anakin looked far too considering for Padme's piece of mind, and what little sanity she had left. 
‘Let me put it this way, do you want to be what finally break’s Obi wan’s heart? That man was vibrating with excitement to celebrate our wedding so hard I could feel in the Force.’
Anakin deflated, ‘Oh. No.’
Padme’s parents laugh their ass off that she needs to create a long held family tradition because she doesn’t want to admit to the Jedi that she had thought they would react badly to her marriage.  They agree to do it. 
<Somehow this does derail Palpatine’s plans. Personally I want it to be in a way that leaves people unaware that he is a Sith, so for the rest of his life he needs to maintain the kindly old grandpa look and suffer for it- maybe something that means he has to actually live a clean life; no more crime or torturing for him.>
Twenty four years later Obi Wan helps Leia Naberrie meet up with Han Solo in order to Elope in the long held family tradition (Bringing with them only R2 to follow the actual tradition closer than they realize). Obi Wan very carefully leaves before Han arrives, so that he can truthfully say he does not know that they eloped. 
Leia’s twin Luke does not need to elope, as he followed his Uncle Obi Wan into the Jedi (an unrelated note he also followed Obi Wan into the mindset of ‘Why Monogamy when Harems naturally occur’-From that day the war ends Obi Wan has no less than three clones with him at all times; he also appears to have a lover, a friend, or an antagonist that he has weirdly sexual dialogue with on every planet he visits. Or Hondo Ohnaka, who has a category all his own. The years that Boba Fett comes to the holiday meals as one of Luke’s plus 6’s-He couldn't choose just one and no one would think of making him- are among the most awkward of most of their lives.)
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wednesdaynn · 1 month
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NSFW alphabet
remus lupin x fem!reader
warnings: i mean it's in the title guys...
A/N:not edited as per usual, also am posting these on ao3 in a series format so... if you prefer that. i would like to start writing more about remus and such so this is an introduction to how i see him ig.
A = After care (what they're like after sex)
I’d like to pretend that Remus is a sweet boy, who will rub your back and run a bath, but in all honesty the guy is probably fast asleep and fighting to keep his eyes open. but maybe that’s just what you both need. quick clean up and soft, tender kisses until both of you fall asleep. 
B = body part (their favorite body part)
His favorite body part of himself is his thighs. with the least amount of scars and where he isn’t too thin, he prefers that part. He loves when you ride his thighs, leaving your cum all over him. grabbing you by the waist and guiding you back and forth, rubbing your clit all over the muscles there.
his favorite part of your body has to be your hands. when you grab his face and wipe away his tears, how you squeeze his cheeks affectionately, grabbing his jaw and pulling him close to kiss, when you pull on his hair when he’s going down on you, the way your hand wraps around his dick. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Remus is kind of a clean freak, during the moment it’s not something he thinks about much, only when he has to pull out when he knows you haven’t taken your potion. But if he comes all over you, he wants to wipe it off immediately after you’re done. finding the stickiness gross. 
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Remus is honestly kind of possessive. Even though he doesn’t show it much, he hates it when other people try to flirt with you, or when your friends make a cheap joke about you. He loves marking you up for this reason. Although he makes sure the marks are at all times covered, it does mask his jealousy and possessiveness up by a lot.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Remus isn’t that experienced. He lost his virginity once and that’s all the experience he has. He finds out all about sexual endeavors from you.
F = favorite position
you riding him, obviously. The man is a sucker for seeing you on top of him, who wouldn’t be. Not only is it perfect around the full moon when his body aches the most, the strenuous activity of sex is often too much, so letting you take the lead and set the pace makes it much easier on him, both mentally and physically. Plus, the view is a bonus. the fact alone that he has the ability to grab you wherever and whenever, run his hands along your hips and stomach and tits. It makes him wild. 
G = Goofy? (are they more serious at the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)
Remus isn’t that goofy anymore, he used to be at the beginning though. When he was still figuring out what he even liked during sex and what sex was like with you, he was a lot more goofy, seeing as he was quite shy. In turn lots of small accidents happened, like butting your head against the board, or being unable to unhook your bras which would then send him into a frenzy, making you laugh at him. 
but over time he developed a sense of harmony with you and it’s all just romance and passion. 
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
this dude just doesn’t care about grooming at all, neither for you nor him. He finds it irritates his skin more than it already does, and it’s all just too much of a hassle. 
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
nowadays he is a lot more romantic, he’s someone who’s sole focus is making you feel good and loved. flustering you and making you melt. 
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I feel like this one speaks for itself, but he’s a teenage boy. Of course he’s beating his meat. And as a muggleborn, of course he has a small collection of suggestive magazines, his collection for his spank bank is quite small. But ever since he got with you he does less and less and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else anymore. he doesn’t get the satisfaction he needs anymore if it isn’t with you. 
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
dual masturbation. although he prefers nothing more than to be the one to touch you and make you feel good, and he loves how your hands and mouth feel around his cock more than anything. There is something so intimate and hot about him seeing you masturbate in front of him, showing him what you like, and getting to completely have his head in the game and his soul focus being on what you look like is everything to him. (he also secretly enjoys the slight humiliation it gets out of you, the way you get all embarrassed at him seeing you so vulnerable and seeing him get off on you makes you all shy and him just 10x harder)
L = location (favorite places to do the do)
boring, but just in bed or the shower. He likes the intimacy the bed brings him. getting to take you apart slowly while making sure you are the most comfortable. resting your body on the soft mattress, putting a pillow under your hips, laying under the blankets in the winter as the fireplace barely suffices. And the shower is a little guilty pleasure location for him. if it’s going for a second round, or doing it there because the boys are in the dorm room, he loves the tight space where he gets to be close to you, the steam of the hot water filling up the room.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Honestly everything gets this man going, but a big part of him just likes to be taken care of, he views sex more as an intimacy thing, he finds it a romantic and healthy part of a relationship. so when you shower him with affection, take care of his needs and make sure he’s feeling alright, especially during that time of the month, it makes him feel all domestic. 
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
anything remotely violent. this man does not get off on hurting you, physically or verbally. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
receiving a hundred percent. although he likes giving and he’s adept at making you feel good, he likes when you get on your knees for him
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
slow and sensual is definitely his vibe, taking his time with making you feel good, focusing on every little detail, the sounds you let out, the way your cunt clenched around his dick, how you grab onto the sheets when he hits just the spot. he likes taking his time, because it allows him to be more present in the moment and drag it out as long as he can.  
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
not a fan, as explained before, he likes to take his time with you. There is never a moment where he thinks doing a quickie is better than waiting until nightfall to make sure you are properly taken care of, both during and afterwards. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)
not too much, he likes to try something new if you suggest it, but when it comes down to risky business, he prefers not to. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
This man can’t last that many rounds to be honest, but his strength at prolonging an orgasm on both your ends needs to be studied. This man can wait and wait and hold off for a while. taking frequent breaks in between to collect himself. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
talking about remus in the sense of hogwarts, no, they live in the seventies and toys aren’t that common. Are we talking modern!au, absolutely. This man is all game for toys both on himself and his partner. the more toys the better. 
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
In general not so much, but as explained before, if he senses it will be over soon he will edge you all night long, belittling you on your inability to take it, and begging him to fasten his pace. 
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
this man isn’t necessarily loud, he just makes a lot of noises, this man whines at every whim and puts his head in your neck and groans, smiling. 
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
The first time you guys discussed the idea of bringing toys into your sex life, you bought everything on the internet that money could buy. and you guys waited, and waited, until everything had arrived to go over them with each other. what you are comfortable with, what is a hard no, etc. later that night he blindfolded you and tried out every toy on your body until you barely kept from passing out. 
X = X-ray ****(let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
this is a tall man, i don't need to tell you any further. but Remus is a bit chubby with the amount of food this man needs to settle his appetite because of his predisposition. scars litter his body and a big silver one right down his sternum. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
the average of a teenage boy. This guy could go almost every day if possible, except around the time of the full moon, he’s usually a bit more moody and doesn’t feel well, making him less inclined to want to participate in sex. 
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
quickly, although he makes sure both of you are taken care of properly afterwards, this man would probably fall asleep in minutes after finishing. 
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zadralien · 3 months
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He wanted Dib to beg for his life.
Dib has become his life.
Ficlet under the cut.
“Fuck, Zim!” Dib reaches up to gingerly press his fingers to his nose and feels the thick blood pooling down past his mouth. “I swear to god, you fucking bug, if you’ve gone and broken my nose again I’ll-“
“-Shut up!” Zim shrieks, pak legs unfurling and clanking onto the concrete. He rises above Dib and encroaches slowly, legs clacking with each step. “You.. you worm! Do you have any idea what you could have done?”
“Dude, it was just some papers. I didn’t even read them for christ’s sake. They’re in Irken, you of all people should know I’m slow at translating that chicken scratch of yours.” Dib looks forlornly at the stack of crumpled papers a few feet away, scattered and likely marked with a spray of Dib’s blood. He turns back to look up at Zim when he snarls, reaching out a gloved claw to shove Dib back hard.
“They’re not for you, they’re Zim’s private papers!” Zim leans further over Dib, tongue curling and spitting flecks of saliva onto Dib’s face. Dib scrubs at his face, remembering how disrespectful spitting is considered in Irken culture. It burns a little.
“I don’t give a shit what they are. I didn’t even mean to touch them! I just wanted to put my crap down.” He meets Zim’s eyes. They’re a deep red and set in a foul expression. “I’m not interested in your secrets. You can keep those. It’s not like I don’t know everything anyway.”
Zim stiffens and Dib’s expression softens despite himself. He runs a tired hand through his hair and steels his gaze.
“You don’t really think I’m that big of an idiot, do you? You’ve just been quietly shoving your fat green head into my life over the last year and suddenly you save my life. I don’t know man, a guy spends his entire life trying to kill you and then just stops you from bleeding out some random Tuesday? That was weird.“ Dib shrugs, looking away briefly.
“That does not mean anything, Dib-worm. You were bleeding all over my base, it was disgusting. Zim had to stop it somehow.”
Dib shakes his head.
“It’s okay, Zim. I know we’re friends. I don’t know why, and I don’t care to know - but I know you’re lost and don’t know where to go. I know, and it’s okay. I’m lost too. We can be lost together. Your leaders, the Tallest -“.
“Don’t.” Zim grits out, quiet in a way Dib has never heard, didn’t know was possible. Physically, he begins trying to reach one hand out to soothe, to touch, to reassure. Mentally, he begs his sister to come collect his corpse once she realises what most likely happened to him. Damn it, he hopes she realises.
He isn’t that surprised when Zim lunges at him, but he wishes he’d had more time to brace before an Irken claw punches into his chest to grab at the material of his shirt. He wheezes a little.
“You do not know what you speak of, you pathetic slime! Do not mistake your loneliness for Zim’s. Zim doesn’t need you, Zim doesn’t need this dust bowl of a planet. One more fucking word and I’ll finish what that disgusting cryptid creature started last year.”
The human swear word sounds weird coming out of the alien’s mouth, but it’s not the first time. He’d only ever heard Zim swear once before - specifically when he got shredded by a cryptid in the woods and, in a blood-loss haze, made his way to Zim’s base to start bleeding out on his frenemies floor. He knows how hard it is to admit how miserable you are on the inside, especially to the people that matter most.
Well, he had made it this far.
“I know you Zim, and it’s okay.”
Zim’s quiet for a moment before he speaks, clenching his jaw.
“Beg.”
“What?”
“Zim told you, one more word. Now you beg for your pathetic life, you insolent worm.”
“I’m not going to - Zim, stop it. You know I’m right. I care about you too! It’s fine!”
Zim snarls, fist clenched, pak legs raising him to his full height. Dib’s heart drops when he sees one leg glint as it lifts itself behind Zim, preparing to strike.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He might actually die today. Shit.
“Beg!”
“No!”
“Beg!”
Shit. The leg is calibrating.
“I’m all you have! Kill me and you’ll have nothing. You know it too!”
Zim stops. The leg pauses. His eyes are wide, frightened, conflicted. He chokes out a pained sound, continuing to clench and unclench his fist. He yanks Dib closer by the shirt still tangled in his fist. Dib breathes heavily.
“Beg Zim not to kill you.” His voice is raw, tired. His eyes roam over Dib’s face, carefully categorising and assessing. The stilted pak leg drops back to the ground.
Dib’s whole body un-tenses despite the proximity. The alien’s face turns slowly into a somewhat unreadable resignation.
Dib swallows the lump.
“Please.” He whispers quietly. Swaying, pressing forward.
“You fool.”
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