#I was just so happy in the moment my brain recognised something familiar and knew from that
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varpusvaras · 4 months ago
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My wife is working with the referees for a basketball tournament, and I was watching the live stream of the game to see if I could spot her. The camera that showed the court and the referee table was really far off from said table and I couldn't see anyone's faces or hair and they were all wearing the same colored uniform, but- there. I recognised the way she sits and holds her hands when she is concentrating on something. Such a small thing, and I knew her instantly from it.
It just made me think, with the clones, what would be the things that someone recognises them from. Is it the way they nod and tilt their head? Is it the way they cross their arms when impatient? Is it the way they hold up their chin when saluting? Is it the way they step ever so slightly longer steps with their left leg?
What is the thing, that makes someone who loves them say "I know them", even without the Force to tell them apart?
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a-crow-ready-for-a-murder · 2 years ago
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Screw it, chapter 7
Hey all, sorry for the late update, my home got flooded because of a busted pipe and I ended up forgetting. Anyhow here's the next chapter and maybe I'll post another one today too. Hope you enjoy!
Ruggie was brought out of his reverie when a familiar voice caught his attention. Looking around his gaze fell on Kalim who was asking one of his dormmates something. Even though he could hear Kalim loud and clear, he couldn’t process what he was saying because he was too focused on what the red eyed young man was holding. Cradled gently in both of his hands was a tattered but still recognisable mix of red and white flora wrapped in a crumpled white bouquet plastic.
Ruggie felt a cold rock sink into his stomach, so cold it made his sweat come out chilled. It must have also taken all the moisture from his mouth because he felt parched as if he’d just toured the desert for days on end. Watching Kalim talk to his dormmate he could only think of one name as the source of his new problem. Jaylin. That nosey little bird had gotten far too involved this time. He’d asked her to leave it and now Kalim was in Savannaclaw with the bouquet she’d insisted on taking with her. Ruggies hands trembled, his dry mouth was now overwhelmed by a sour taste as he clenched his teeth. He would have to send her a text later, one final text before never talking to her again. He turned away from the scene that he didn’t realize had come to an end to go to his room when he was stopped in his tracks. “Ruggie!” called Kalim. Ruggie took several deep breaths just so he could fake a smile long enough to turn Kalim away but when he faced him all his fortitude vanished in the face of that way too happy smile. “I’ve been looking for you” Said Kalim, closing the distance between them so they were only 2 feet away from each other. “You have?” Ruggie asked absentmindedly
“Yeah, all morning.”
“Huh, why’s that?” Perhaps if he played dumb he could make this discussion go by faster.
“Someone left this bouquet in front of Scarabia, it’s signed by the letter R and I wanted to ask if it was you.”
Would he be lying if he said it wasn’t? Sure it was his bouquet but he wasn’t the one who’d left it. Looking at Kalim’s face he felt panic rising in his chest, gestures like this had ended friendships before, was he really willing to risk that for the one in a billion chance that Kalim felt the same?
“Nah, that wasn’t me, I’m not into mushy gestures” he said breezily
Right before his eyes, almost in slow motion, he saw Kalims face fall, had he been wrong?
“Oh.” Said Kalim “then….uh…”
Kalim was sad? Was he hoping that it was Ruggie? His mouth moved before his thoughts could settle
“Were you hoping it was?”
“Honestly….yeah.”
Ruggie was taken aback, he knew Kalim was honest but he wasn’t expecting such a direct answer. “Wait…what? You were?”
“Well yeah, I mean I’d wanted to ask you but I didn’t know if you’d felt the same so I was just hoping…”
Ruggies brain scrambled, he didn’t know what to say, or what to do. Kalim liked him, really liked him. All this time spent worrying and he actually had feelings for him. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I guess I’ll see you-”
“Wait!”
The window to tell him the truth was closing, if he didn’t ask now, there was no chance this moment would come again. Kalim looked at Ruggie curiously as he tried to gather even a few of his thoughts. “I…well…” he sighed “It is my bouquet, one I was gonna give you but I…something came up and…I guess JJ must have brought them.”
Kalims eyes began to light up “Really?”
“Y-yeah, it’s corny, I know but I thought that’s…y’know what you do when you want to ask someone out.”
The way his heart pounded, Ruggie worried he might have a heart attack before hearing Kalims answer
“You…you want to ask me out!?”
“Uhm…yeah?”
Kalim had a huge smile on his face as he threw his arms around Ruggie “Ohmygosh! Yes! I would love to go out with you!!”
The cold panic that had been plaguing Ruggie’s chest melted away, this was happening, it was really happening. Slowly as if he were trying to preserve a bubble Ruggie hugged Kalim as a smile crept up his face and tears began to form in the corner of his eyes
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empressofthesunwriter · 1 year ago
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Nothing is True
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… Everything is permitted.
What is real?
What is not?
Is she just turning crazy or are other powers at work?
One thing is clear Kohana will get to the bottom of this and maybe change the whole Ninja-World at the same time.
S.I. Third Shinobi World War 
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Prologue: Awaking
She felt like, she was run over by an angry mob. 
Anything hurt.
Even her eyelashes.
How was that possible?!
The young girl struggled to open her eyes and slowly sat up on her bed. 
Confused she rubbed her face.
Something was…off.
She couldn’t truly explain why she felt like this. 
It was on the back of her mind. She could nearly grasp it.
Boom!
The door to her bedroom opened.
A young man with pink hair and blue eyes stepped into her room.
He had a wide grin on his face.
Who-?
Where-?
What-?
“Wakey, Wakey, Imoto-Chan!”, he hollered. “You will be late for the Academy!”
At this moment she wanted to say many things. 
Who are you? 
What are you doing in my room? 
What Academy?
But the words that came out were: “Kizashi-Nii! When did you come back from the war front?!”
From the outside, she seemed surprised and happy, on the inside the girl was freaking out.
She had no control over her body! It was like she was a passenger.
What was going on?
Kizashi-Nii or whatever, what does it even mean, gave her a huge grin saying: “Just returned a few minutes ago. I had to check up on my favourite sister, Kohana!”
Kohana?
The name…
Something in her reacted to it.
Like an avalanche memories swept over her. 
Years and years worth of it.
It was so much that she hissed at the pain in her brain, holding her head between her hands.
“Kohana? What’s wrong?!”, shouted Kizashi…her older brother. Yes, he was her older brother, she remembered now. 
He kneeled in front of her, petting her knee in worry.
“A bit of a headache.”, she could now speak freely. 
What a strange awakening this was. 
How could she forget Kizashi and herself?
Maybe she had a fever running? You could be confused when you have one.
Yeah, Kohana decided that it was probably it, ignoring the strange feeling of calling herself Kohana.
Something told her…that this was not her normal name? 
Does it make sense? 
Absolut not. 
Will she think more about it? 
No.
It turned out she didn’t have a fever so their parents made her go to the Ninja Academy, and Kizashi accompanied her. He wanted to spend some time with her after being away for so long.
Kohana felt all fuzzy inside, having such a loving brother, till she remembered what a stupid teasing baka he could be.
Then she hissed at him to go to bed, she could walk alone to the Academy. She didn't need his teasing right now.
Alas, Kizashi didn’t listen.
He even insisted on holding her hand while they walked to the Academy.
Was she a baby?
No, she was a grown-ass woman…no… wait, she was nine.
Why did she think she was a grown woman? 
The strange happenings didn’t stop at thoughts for Kohana.
For a few minutes, she couldn’t recognise her parents or the home they lived in, till again her brain was filled with memories.
Now walking with a bubbly Kizashi by her side through Konohagakure, the ninja village hidden in the leaves, Kohana recognised the place…yet somethings were off.
She felt it in her gunt that the Konohagakure she remembered had more stone faces on the Hokage Mountain.
It was also a lot bigger.
And the childish laugh of a blond-haired boy with whiskers marks on his cheeks was missing.
Kohana shook her head, which made her ponytail swish around her back. Other than Kizashi, she had the green hair of their father, while he had got the pink hair from their mother.
She envies Kizashi for his hair colour. Pink was pretty and better than plain green.
Also, her brother didn’t need stupid glasses to look.
But on the other hand…the glasses comforted her.
Like it was something familiar, something she knew….from before?
She frowned.
What was that before?
“Can you believe, you will soon take your Genin Exam!”, told her Kizashi eagerly, squeezing her hand. “Damn, I remember mine. I was so nervous and hoped I would be with Mebuki in a team. Now my little Imoto will follow her Nii-Chan.”
Mebuki?
Who was that again?
In her mind, she saw an adult blond-haired woman wearing a white dress with three red circles, till the image switched to a blond-haired woman with long hair, wearing a Chuunin vest, under it the standard shirt of the Konoha shinobis, a white battle skirt with black shorts under and black ninja boots.
Okay, that was weird.
Just ignoring it.
“We were and are at war Kizashi-Nii.”, she reminded her brother. “Yet you only thought about being with your crush on the same team?”
“Hey, you are still little you wouldn’t understand. Even if we are at war, love is still important!”
“A girl is more important than winning this damned war?!”
“It’s true love! What would you understand, the boys are scared of you, which of course I’m glad about. No boy should get their grappy hands on you!”
For that, she rammed her elbow in his stomach which made him grumble a bit, but her brother was a seasons shinobi, and her little hit was nothing against the punches he had taken from enemy shinobi.
“You are not my boss.”, she grumbled at him. “Also I don’t care for boys right now!”
“Aww, you make your Nii-Chan so happy, Imoto!”
He had the call to lean down and rub their cheeks together. the younger girl's left eye twitched.
Kohana decided that her older brother was not only a baka, but also a fanboy.
He was 19 didn’t he know any shame?
Strangely a pink-haired girl in a red battle dress and a blond girl in purple came to her mind.
Huh?
Why did the pink-haired girl look like she could be the love child of her idiot brother and Mebuki?
The green-haired girl was sick of this…flashbacks or whatever she was having.
It would be a long day, she felt it in her bones.
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Hello, welcome to my absolute and gross self-insert fantasy adventure in the Naruto World sprinkled with some Assasin’s Creed Elements! 😀
Always wanted to write a self-insert and live out my dream of being a ninja/assasin and smooching a certain Uchiha XD
I hope you will like the twists and turns I have planned and give it at least a chance.
It’s still crack, even if treated seriously.
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notacoward · 1 year ago
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Severus tried not to grunt in pain, but thankfully, her mother didn't seem to notice the strangled noise that died in his throat during the hug. He carefully hugged her back, then stood to his normal height. He felt lightheaded and his back was literally throbbing, but he forced a smile and hoped nobody questioned him while the discomfort subsided.
He allowed Lily to give a rather non-committal answer to her mother's question. His brain was more focused on the fact that Lily was holding his hand. He had half-worried her parents wouldn't recognise him, given how much he'd changed in the last decade, but it was like coming home again. Like no time at all had passed. It made him so bloody happy.
"My sweet Lily flower," Mr. Evans gushed as he came to hug his daughter. He took her face in his hands after they pulled back and smiled. "You look tired, sweetheart. Is James here with---" He trailed off upon seeing a familiar face. Severus noted the look of disapproval on his face and it broke his heart, but he understood. He had hurt Lily, decade ago or not, and he'd never be able to make up for that. He shared similar beliefs to her father.
"Happy Christmas," Severus said quietly as he reached out to shake his hand. Her father mirrored the greeting and shook his hand, before turning his attention back to Lily to whisk her away.
"Jack's been doing some home improvement projects in the back, Lily will be bored to tears," Mrs. Evans laughed as she looked at the taller man. "Are you alright, dear? You still look skinny. Bigger, but skinny. Are you hungry? I can get you something."
"No, thank you," Severus said. He'd probably throw anything she gave him up, both from pain and nerves. He didn't do well with parents, and despite growing up with this couple, he was still nervous. He wasn't Lily's fiancé and he was barely even her friend again. Did they know about him being a Death Eater? Did they know the reason they broke up in the first place? What did they know about him? What had Lily told them?
"You can take Petunia's room, of course, Severus," Mrs. Evans said as she gestured to the stairs. "I trust you remember where that is? Or will you be staying with Lily? I doubt you can fit on her bed any more," she laughed.
Severus blushed. "Um... No. I don't think Pott-- James would like that very much."
Mrs. Evans sighed and gave him a knowing look that said it all about what she thought about James Potter. He liked her for a reason, he always knew it. "Well... it's not my place to question the choices Lily makes about the men in her life," she said carefully. "Either way, everything is still the same. I'll let you and Lily work that out."
Severus nodded and retreated up the stairs, thankful for the moment of quiet. He slowly opened the door to Lily's childhood bedroom, and was immediately transported almost twenty years in the past. He smiled to himself and walked around, looking at all the little details he remembered so fondly. His eyes flicked to the bedroom window and the scrapes from where he'd fall inside and try to hide before her parents barged in to ask what that noise was. He went to the doorframe, where they marked their heights as they got older. Eventually, Lily's little line stayed were it was and Severus's just got higher and higher.
A few tears pricked his eyes and he forced himself to get it together. Regrets filled him and he just wished he hadn't been so fucking stupid.
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As impossible as it seemed it didn't really take all that much to come up with a story - the best sort of lies were simply omissions from the truth after all. Marlene and Remus were even more worried than James about her going alone, and that was saying something as paranoid as he was about it.
But Lily just had to remind them she was a big girl and knew how to take care of herself. If anything terrible happened there was nothing stopping her from popping right back into Headquarters and grabbing people for backup. Though she knew with Severus there they would be watching each other's backs from the jump.
Quiet and dark and almost peaceful seemed to be the theme of the streets for the evening, though the mill towers still stood starkly black against the evening sky. Anywhere and everywhere she looked it felt like there were memories - the park they always used to play in with Tuni, the corner where they'd say goodbye before splitting off after the Incident.
Under no circumstances was she going to ask about going to see his parents. Eileen had always been as good to her as she could, given her temperment, but there was just no need in going back to that house and bringing up old traumas for the both of them. It was Christmas, and she was going to spoil Severus in a way she hadn't gotten to for years now.
They made it up to the door and didn't even get a chance to knock before the door was thrown open and she was being swept up into her mother's arms. The tight hug was enough to make tears spring to her eyes, not from physical pain but just realizing how long it'd been since she'd actually come home.
"And Severus! What an incredible surprise!" Tall as a tree or no he was immediately pulled down for a hug just as tight by the neck, Lily just smiling and shaking her head a little at the questioning look over his shoulder. She'd shown the engagement ring off before, closer to the beginning, and wrote about all the postponements.
Regardless of what it looked like, she knew they would at least be welcome here. "Well come in, let's get you out of this cold! Jack's working on getting dinner ready but he'll want to see the both of you first thing. You're staying the night of course?" The woman grinned as she followed her mother and reached back to grab Severus' hand and pull him in too. At least for the present, they were home.
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capseycartwright · 2 years ago
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'cause darling, you're the one
Falling in love with Eddie was –
Well, it had been slow, so slow, slow enough that Buck hadn’t realised until one quiet Sunday evening when he looked at his best friend, Eddie humming to himself as he made dinner, his hair standing on end as he warbled a pop song Buck didn’t recognise, and suddenly, suddenly – he knew.
the one where there is some temporarily unrequited love, a fire, a fall through some floorboards, a conversation - and a wedding. in that order.
for @thatbuddie - happy birthday, dear maria. you are a genuine joy and the most wonderful person and i love you! 💕
ao3 link
Buck wasn’t sure if he could put a finger on the exact moment it had changed for him. In all honesty, it felt like one minute, he was in a relationship with Taylor, trying his best to force it to work despite all the painfully obvious reasons why it was never, ever, ever going to work between them, and the next, he was looking across his kitchen table at Eddie and something in his chest tightened and his brain was going ‘oh!’ and the realisation that the love he had for his best friend was so much more than just the platonic friendship he had been so sure it was slowly started to come to light, emerging from the depths Buck had buried it to for so long.
Falling in love with Eddie was –
Well, it had been slow, so slow, slow enough that Buck hadn’t realised until one quiet Sunday evening when he looked at his best friend, Eddie humming to himself as he made dinner, his hair standing on end as he warbled a pop song Buck didn’t recognise, and suddenly, suddenly – he knew.
Oh. Oh. Oh my god.
He was in love with Eddie.
It was startling, in some ways, to have that sort of life-shattering realisation – Buck had a comfortable life. Really, he did – he had a job he loved, and that gave him purpose, he had his sister, he had his niece, he had the family he found for himself, in the 118. Buck had Eddie, and he had Christopher – his very best friend in the world, and the bright little boy Buck was getting the privilege of helping to raise. His life, in those senses, at least, was comfortable, and familiar – and the realisation that the love he felt for his best friend was so far beyond platonic rocked that comfort to its core.
It felt like –
Well, it felt like a risk, didn’t it? Because Eddie, and Christopher – they were some of the greatest good in Buck’s life. Their weeknight dinners, and their weekend trips to the zoo, and the time they spent together, it was time that Buck treasured the most in the world, and this whole, I’m embarrassingly in love with you and the feeling absolutely takes over every cell in my body every time we’re in the same room, thing, could ruin all of that.
It could really, really, really, ruin it.
Buck was –
Well, he was unlucky in love, wasn’t he? He would love to pretend otherwise, but it was the truth. Buck had never had much success with love. He had thought he had found it with Abby, he convinced himself he had finally found the real thing, and in the end, that had only served to break his heart too. He’d say it had blown up spectacularly – but it hadn’t, really, had it? It had ended quietly, with Buck sitting alone in an apartment that didn’t feel like home, waiting for her to come home when she had never planned to book a return flight at all.
That was – well, that was a hallmark of his breakups, now he was thinking about it. He and Taylor had broken up, and he’d been left standing alone in an apartment that didn’t feel like home anymore, wondering how he had let it get to that point: why he had let Taylor invade what was already a fragile space, the loft having lost its feeling of being a safe space, reduced to just the place where he lived, a place where he did his laundry, a place where he slept – and even then, four nights out of seven, he tended to be on Eddie’s couch, snoring happily, wrapped up in the warmth and familiarity of the Diaz household.
Buck spent nearly all of his time with Eddie, and Christopher.
That was never a problem. Buck loved to spend time with them – he loved to be the one behind the wheel when they pulled into the pickup queue at Christopher’s school, to collect him after a long day. He loved to cook for them, cooking was always infinitely more fun when it was for other people, the labours of your love enjoyed by more than just you. Buck loved to sit at the kitchen table, playing games with Chris, while Eddie hummed to himself as he cooked, music playing softly in the background and the scene one of picture-perfect domesticity.
It had never been a problem until Buck realised he was in love with his best friend, and now the perfectly mundane things he always did with Eddie, and Christopher, were tinged with a layer of complexity he didn’t know how to deal with. How – how was he supposed to just be entirely normal, around Eddie, when he looked at his best friend and saw everything he ever wanted for the rest of his life wrapped up in one gorgeous, kind, brilliant man? Buck was – well, he liked to think he was a strong person, but even he wasn’t strong enough to deal with that.
It was hard because Buck had everything he wanted within reach –
Except for the love of it all.
read the rest on ao3
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luna-rainbow · 3 years ago
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meta: recognition
Just wanted to talk a little bit more about recognition and what this meant for Steve and Bucky's meetings.
The way we recognise people is actually complex. Facial recognition is only a part of it - people with prosopagnosia, the inability to recognise faces, are generally still able to recognise other people through different means. This might be from their movement, their gait, their scent, their voice, etc, and the closer we are to a person, the more traits we subconsciously earmark for recognition.
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These days, gait recognition is a real feature being explored as a surveillance tool. Once the human brain learns the motor pattern of walking, it's very hard to change it, unless there's injury or if what you're wearing is massively getting in the way. In real life, Bucky's walk would probably have been changed by the prosthesis (but in real life, Bucky's high-tech bionic prosthesis doesn't exist so that point is moot). As we can see from these 2 GIFs, Sebastian's Bucky's walk is still recognisable - the roll of the shoulders, the rotation of the torso (more exaggerated by the unwieldy WS costume) and the tilting of pelvis. There are a lot of features to a walking pattern that you subconsciously memorise - the pace, the step length, the swing of their arms, the movements of their hips, knees and feet, the way they hold their head and torso etc.
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I would argue that Steve started to suspect something as early as this scene. Let's think about what he's seen so far: Bucky running across the roof and that one-handed catch. Just like walking, running has a pattern that is very individualised and is highly recognisable to someone close to you.
Further to that, Bucky would definitely have practiced and practiced with Steve all those years ago when Steve first acquired the shield (just as Bucky goes on to practice with Sam in TFATWS). In fact, it's interesting to note here that Steve just does a straight throw, which is one of his early signature moves. Bucky catching that simple throw might be something the two of them have practiced many times before (although obviously not at that speed).
I don't think Steve thought he was Bucky at this stage, because it probably wouldn't have crossed his mind that Bucky was still alive, but he must have noticed the sense of familiarity.
When you think about it, it's interesting that Steve's focus was the Winter Soldier after Nick Fury's "death", and not who sent him. Again, I don't think he has linked it to Bucky, but subconsciously something about the metal-armed man is vexing him and he can't put his finger on it.
Fast forward to the infamous Causeway fight.
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Look at that resolve and bracing in his face. It was as though subconsciously he knew this fight was coming. Never mind that the Winter Soldier was a ghost story that people didn’t believe existed and why he would suddenly appear in broad daylight on a crowded highway. Steve with his one braincell felt in his bones that this was the confrontation that was meant to happen. There was a meaning behind it, and maybe that meaning was simply to stop them but maybe there was something else, and he was determined to find out.
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Now I'll freely admit that analysing fights and guns is really not my forte, so happy to be corrected here - I assume like many things we do in life, once you develop a habit it's hard to shake. There will be a certain way that Bucky likes to hold, angle, load and aim his guns that will be instantly familiar to Steve.
In that close quarter combat, Bucky goes from handguns to knives. I would imagine most of the close combat moves would be from training that happened after he became the Winter Soldier given that he used to be a sniper, so it might have temporarily tempered that sense of familiarity.
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But this scene, along with Bucky's throw of the shield a moment later, must be what bothered Steve the most. It's on a different arm, sure, but none of Steve's other opponents ever picked up the shield like this and had it on their arm the way Steve would use it. This is someone who has a familiarity with carrying, handling and using the shield. Steve doesn't buy that it's just the assassin being naturally resourceful.
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Is this an odd move? I think it's an odd move, but I don't think Steve calculated it as much as just functioned on intuition. Something about this guy was plaguing him, so instead of a dozen other moves he could have used to knock out a dangerous assassin who was temporarily stunned by getting hit in the head by the shield, he grabs the mask and pulls it off.
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Seeing Bucky’s face was simply confirmation. He’s shocked and in utter turmoil, but there is not an ounce of doubt in his voice when he utters, ���Bucky?” There was no question this man - despite the age, the long hair, the icy expression, the vicious fighting style - was Bucky. Steve had already seen all the signs when they were fighting. His questions were only how and why, and what he needed to do to get Bucky out of that zone.
Sometimes I wonder what Steve was thinking on that bridge when Sam said that they will definitely meet Bucky again if they decide to go up against Project Insight. Did Steve already think of the fact that Hydra had purposely brought Bucky out to distract him? Did he choose to go into the fight because he knew that’s what the real Bucky would have wanted? Did he also have doubts about whether Bucky was still there under the Winter Soldier, and even so, he was going to bring Bucky back or die trying?
(Thanks to all my lovely tumblr friends for putting up with my long metas)
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free-pool-trash · 4 years ago
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utopia- peter maximoff
yeah... im back being in love with Peter <3 enjoy loves <3
word count: 3k
warnings: angst and fluff, wandavision spoilers
id be open to writing more parts if anyone was interested <3 (I wrote this at 4am if it’s all over the place im sorry)
masterlist
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You didn’t know much, but one thing was for certain; you didn’t belong here.
This morning you had opened your eyes and were met with a town that seemed like the very definition of the suburban dream. Your mind screamed at you as soon as you came to in the strange and indisputably new environment, telling you that this town was your home. The fact that you couldn’t remember anything before your eyes had fluttered open didn’t fill you with the utmost confidence about the legitimacy of the voice in your head, or the utopia that surrounded you.
All you knew was that you came here to look for someone. This someone was someone very important to you and you had a feeling that you were exactly where you needed to be to find this someone. There was one minor problem though; you didn’t have a clue who this special someone was, just that you needed to find him.
Cautiously, you found yourself wandering the town that seemed to be lost in time. All of its residents dressed like they were all attending an 80s themed party, yourself included. You couldn’t recall pulling on the ridiculous getup but that voice told you not to worry about it. It wasn’t long before you were in the middle of the town square, people bustled around you happily, all of them eerily going about their day as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Nobody looked stressed or sad or anything other than animatedly happy.
The realisation caused a slight panic to begin in your chest, there was something very wrong happening here and you didn’t know what. The very second you began to show anything that didn’t come across as positively blissful, the voice you’d been hearing since you opened your eyes sounded in your brain, louder than ever.
You are happy here. WestView is home. You are home.
Despite her soothing tone, you weren’t convinced.
“Who are you?” You demanded out loud, whipping your head in all directions, eyes set in a glare as you watched the citizens of the town acting none the wiser to your question.
Within seconds a woman appeared before you, a sweet smile on her face and two children by her side. “Hey there, you must be the new neighbour.” She spoke kindly, something familiar about the woman caused you to immediately relax in her presence although that relaxation felt somewhat… forced.
With a hesitant nod you looked around again, you brought your eyes back to the little family and offered them your best friendly smile, “It seems I must be, yeah.”
The lady giggled and held her hand out towards you, “Nice to meet you, I’m Wanda. And these two are Billy and Tommy.” You took her hand in yours, suddenly overwhelmed with an influx of thoughts that didn’t seem to be yours. Suddenly you were giving Wanda the most sparkling smile you could manage, not entirely sure why your mouth had formed such a smile for a complete stranger.
“Pleasure to meet you all.” Were the only words you could manage, still riddled with confusion as to what was going on.
Wanda returned your smile, Billy and Tommy seemed almost enamoured by you as they both stared at the new arrival. Glancing at her boys, Wanda knew she’d have to keep a very close eye on you, you were a mutant and stronger than even you knew, hard to control. But she had let you through her barricade as soon as she realised who you were and why you came.
“What’s your name?” Billy had asked and Wanda grew nervous as she noticed your eyes lose their smile for a second as you blanked on the simple question.
What was your name? It took you a moment or two before you regained your composure and extended your arm to the little boy in front of you who shook it excitedly, “Y/n. My name is Y/n, it’s really nice to meet you two.”
“Say, would you like to come and have dinner with us?” Wanda offered and you nodded your head gratefully.
“Dinner would be lovely. I’m feeling quite airy today, a good feed might help.” You told her with a laugh.
You walked to what you assumed to be Wanda’s residence, Billy and Tommy spoke excitedly to you as you walked, the pair of them strolled on either side of you fighting for your attention and entertaining you as they constantly tried to one up each other.
“You’re so cool! I can’t wait for uncle piet to meet you!” Tommy commented, prompting a soft smile from Wanda and an agreeing nod from Billy.
With a laugh you ruffled the boys’ hair, “Uncle Piet, huh? I bet I’m way cooler than that guy.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Wanda laughed, her hold on you lessening as you began to relax on your own accord.
It only took a few more minutes until the four of you arrived at their house. As you entered you took a second to take in the interior, the 80s theme not as glaringly out of place to you as it had been earlier.
“Vis! Pietro! I’m home and I’ve brought a guest!” Wanda’s sweet voice sounded from the kitchen.
“Uncle Piet hurry up! Come meet our new friend!”
“Come on! Come on! Hurry up!”
Billy and Tommy yelled up the stairs impatiently and you smiled fondly at the boys, crossing your arms over your chest as you anticipated meeting ‘the funnest guy in the whole world’.
“M’coming! Jeez.” The deep voice made you freeze. For the first time since you arrived in WestView you could finally say you recognised something.
The thumping of feet running down the stairs had your heart beating out of your chest and when you finally came face to face with the man the twins had praised so highly you thought your ribs were at risk of breaking from how rapidly it was pumping.
The man looked at the twins, expectantly, “Alright. Where’s the one making you two so excited?” He hadn’t noticed you yet.
With a shaky breath, it bagan coming back to you, he was the someone you were looking for. He wasn’t just someone special, he was your love. And there he stood, silver hair unkempt as usual and his signature grin painted his lips.
“She’s-“ Billy started but Peter cut him off.
“She? You guys get yourself a lil girlfriend? Huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you couldn’t help the breathless laugh that left you. He was still your Peter. Funny, lighthearted, great with children and not completely thoughtless behind his gorgeous doe eyes like the rest of the town’s residents.
The airy laugh caused a shiver to run up his spine. No, you couldn’t be here. Not you. But he knew without even turning his head that it was you, his girl, the love of his life. The loyalist person he’d ever had the privilege of being able to love. Of course you’d follow him to a whole different reality.
He whipped his head in your direction, his mouth falling open as his eyes landed on your form, your eyes shining the way they always did when you’d see him after a long mission.
“Peter?” The boy felt his heart crack as your expression dissolved into something between confusion and panic. He quickly zoomed over to you and pulled you into him, pressing your head into the crook of his neck to hide your expression from Wanda who had yet to return from the kitchen.
His lips hovered close to your ear, “Pietro, you have to call me Pietro. I’ll explain everything, I promise just act natural for me, alright?” He murmured, moving his hand comfortingly up and down your back, aware that the twins were watching Peter pulled away but wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you forced yourself to smile as the pair of you faced the boys.
“How’d you guys manage to find my girlfriend in this dump?” He asked jokingly, smirking proudly as their faces dropped.
Billy glared and raised his little eyebrow at his uncle, “Your girlfriend?”
“You were right, you two. He definitely is the funnest person but I still win in the cool department.” You said, laughing nervously and hoped you weren’t being too conspicuous.
“Oh come on,” Peter groaned, “I haven’t seen you in forever and you’re already making fun of me in front of my nephews? That’s cold.” He pressed his lips to your temple, keeping them there for a few seconds, they were firm and sure and they let you know that he was really with you, you’d found him and he was real.
When Wanda re entered the room you felt your shock ebb as if it were being drowned beneath the surface before you could calm it naturally. You allowed your body to melt into Peter, your unintentional, sitcom worthy smile making his way across your lips again.
“Oh good, so you two have met then?” Wanda grinned, knowingly. Peter gave her a grin of his own.
“We’ve done more than meet.” He told her suggestively and you poked his ribs gently.
“You should’ve told me you were a Maximoff,” You giggled out as Peter littered your face with kisses while the twins gagged, the silver haired man pulled away from you for only a second to stick his tongue out at his nephews before he returned his attention to you as you chastised Wanda softly, “I would’ve been able to prepare myself to see this loser.”
Peter scoffed and gently pushed you away before speeding to catch up with your body. He wrapped his arms around your torso from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder, “She loves me really.”
Peter knew exactly what Wanda was after; a perfect family. He understood that’s what she wanted but he didn’t know how far she would go to achieve that goal. He had to make sure you played along, he couldn’t lose track of you again.
Your next words caused a stir in the hearts of both the siblings, your head was turned and your gaze was locked on Peter’s face, eyes free of any outside emotion as you broke out of Wanda’s hold and what Wanda read off your face wasn’t fear nor confusion, it was nothing but pure adoration for her brother.
“I do. I really do.” You told him, eyes becoming glassy before Wanda managed to regain control of your mind. You cleared your throat and gave Peter an airy smile, gently placing your lips against the curve of his jaw and he bit the inside of his cheek as he held you, allowing the conversation to flow easily and trying his best to support you as you unknowingly exhausted yourself fighting against his sister's hold.
He had a feeling you hadn’t remembered your mutation yet. You were one of the most powerful mutants Xaviers School had ever seen, your powers similar to Jean and Charles himself. Telekinesis was a tricky game, especially when you weren’t aware of it.
He remembered when he’d met you, you were with Charles and Hank, in his basement and asking for his help. He smiled to himself when he thought of how you’d been just as confused as him at the time.
You had no control over your telekinesis back then, similarly to now as you sat playing a board game with the twins, lights would flicker when you laughed and the very ground you walked on would shake if you got angry enough.
“Her mutation, it’s strong.” Wanda commented breezily as if it were nothing, floating through the kitchen going about her business as Peter’s eyes never left your form.
With a sigh he murmured, “She’s powerful, Wands. Trust me when I tell you that this whole thing could come crashing down if you don’t let her access her mutation.”
Wanda paused, her jaw clenched. With a flick of her wrist the panel that was allowing Peter to gaze at you from his place in the kitchen shut in his face. He turned to face Wanda then, an incredulous look on his face.
“What do you mean.” Peter only let out a tired laugh.
He shook his head, “Why did you let her in in the first place? You could’ve kept her out if you didn’t want her here.”
“She came for you, Pietro. You were the only thing on her mind. I didn’t realise she had power until I’d let her in.” She seethed, glaring at Peter.
“Maybe this was a mistake…” Wanda began, clenching and unclenching her hands as she considered her next actions. Noticing her uncertainty, Peter stood up and approached her as she spoke, “I should send her back.”
Panic flooded the speedster and before his sister could so much as move a finger he grabbed both of her hands in his, “No!” He shouted, desperately.
“Please don’t. I’ll look after her, just… just don’t take her away from me. Not again.” He begged, shaking his head frantically and Wanda knew in that moment that sending you away would create more problems than it would solve.
With a steady nod Wanda squeezed her brother’s hands, “She’ll stay here. But she’s your responsibility now. If she becomes a problem she’ll have to go.” His sister explained causing Peter to once again nod his head frantically.
“There’s an empty house next door. It’s yours, take her home, she’s tired I can tell.” Peter left the kitchen without another word, a smile on his face as if the conversation with Wanda hadn’t shook him to his core.
When he entered the living room he watched fondly as Billy tried to impress you and Tommy sat contently beside you. Wanda had released you from her influence and you were simply fighting sleep while simultaneously keeping the twins occupied. Even without your mutation, Peter knew you were a superhero.
“Alright, nerds. Stop bugging my girl.” Peter walked casually to the couch and pulled you up gently, kissing your temple like he had done earlier, “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”
When he pulled away you were looking at him, your expression somewhat defeated, “Home?” That’s right, he reminded himself, you didn’t know where home was.
He nodded gently, interlocking your fingers with his and led you to the front door.
“Bye boys!” He called over his shoulder, not bothering with a proper goodbye tonight.
True to her word, the house next door was vacant and ready for the couple to move into. As soon as the front door was shut Peter attached his lips to yours, feverishly moving his hands to your cheeks as you melted against him.
“I’ve been looking for you for so long.” You croaked, pulling away, select memories had began to return upon meeting his lips.
Completely overwhelmed you nuzzled your cheeks into his palms when tears began to leak from your eyes. Peter pulled you closer, bringing his forehead to rest against yours, “I know, baby. But I’m right here, I’ve got you.”
His words had only served to push you further towards the edge and you gripped his wrists to keep his hands in place, using him as an anchor. He shushed you gently once the picture frames nailed to the wall began to clatter against the plaster while you struggled to even out your breathing.
“I couldn’t think, Pete. I couldn’t- I couldn’t keep her out. There’s something so wrong here, we need to get out- we have to get out.” You rambled, tears streaming down your face now as the panic Wanda had pushed away from you earlier now manifested into a full blown panic attack.
“Hey, hey, hey, Y/n, look at me, okay? Neither of us are under her control right now, you’re safe, you’re with me and I’m not going to let her so much as flick her wrist at you, do you understand me?” He spoke steadily and sternly, caressing your face so gently as if he was afraid you’d break.
After a second or two, the walls stopped shaking and you let Peter guide you to the stairs and into a double room. Carefully, he undressed you and redressed you into the shirt he’d been sleeping in, something in him just knowing being surrounded by his scent would calm you down.
Your hands snaked around his waist after he finished getting himself changed, with a content sigh you pressed your lips against his shoulder before pulling away to look into his eyes, “You’re sure you’re okay?”
Peter nodded his head, eyes softening at your concern, “M’better now.”
Before you could respond Peter had zoomed the pair of you into the floral double bed. He lay on his back, his silver hair sprawled against the pillow and his eyes looking at you contently. You gazed at him from your space against his chest, your body completely flush to his, the arm he had wrapped around your waist making you feel safe.
He hummed in approval as your finger lazily traced his jaw, he grinned dorkily, he watched your eyes fluttering open and shut as you struggled to stay awake. Peter wrapped both arms around you tightly, pulling you up ever so slightly to let your face rest against the crook of his neck.
“I love you, Y/n.” He whispered when he felt your fingers toying with his hair gently.
You hummed, pecking the skin of his neck, “I love you, Peter. Or should I say Pietro?” He couldn’t stop his chuckle when he felt your lips form into a smirk as you continued to peck lightly at his neck.
Peter shook his head, his hands moving up and down your back, slowly and softly as he told you, “Nah, I just wanna be Peter with you. You’re the only person in this wacko town who knows who I am.”
“We’ll get out… and then we can go back to being whoever we were before we ended up here.” You spoke sleepily, but honestly, he knew you believed what you were saying.
He wanted to ask why you’d put yourself in this situation but he knew why. And he knew he’d follow you into anything like this too.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been proud of the love the pair of you shared, considering it had landed you in a borderline tyrannical suburbia. But even a barrier that wiped memories, a witch who could bend time, space and the very reality around her couldn’t keep the two of you apart.
Neither of you knew what would happen in the future but that didn’t matter so long as you had each other. As your breath evened out against his neck Peter promised himself that he’d find a way to get you both out, get everyone out.
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lindiwe-in-camelot · 4 months ago
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Lindi had never liked sand before, but today she quite liked the reassuring grit between her toes. It was familiar, even if her loafers were going to get contaminated with the stuff when she put them back on. The sea breeze was welcoming too, it was refreshing, zesty. For being prone to anxiety attacks, Lindi felt oddly calm as she paced further up the beach, counting her steps, tasting salt on her lips. Maybe my anxiety attacks were preparing me for this fucked up, impossible situation. Lindsay will be so proud of my grounding-
Lindiwe was interrupted by a woman, barking a command. Lindi responded instinctively by straightening her spine, a lifetime of public school teachers, Cambridge scholars, doctors, uppity principals and government officials hardwiring a response in her brain to pay attention and obey a command given with a clipped, assertive, posh English accent. She knew that sort of voice, it was the same voice she used when the snobby sales associates at Harrods sized her up, to emphasise what her Jo Malone perfume, recognisable label bag and manicured nails said; that she belonged there.
Lindi hated it when it was used on her.
"Why no, I don't have medical experience, thank you for asking, but I am happy to help," Lindi said, in her peeved-but-polite tone. She crossed her bag over her chest and shoved it to her back, striding the last few steps over to the doctor (it felt safe to assume she was a doctor) and the to-be patient. The doctor was moving fast, instructing Lindi to keep the man from moving, and suggesting they look away.
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"Let's just pause a moment here," Lindi snapped, glaring at the doctor. "What are you about to do?" she asked, aware that there was something off about the arm the doctor was touching. "Are we all on the same page here...?"
Location: Beach triage @lindiwe-in-camelot
Akhila found herself back in the thick of it. For the most part, the dust had settled and those that had suffered lightly were out of her way. There were still a few that lingered, she was keen to see them as swiftly as feasibly possible. Ideally with minimal chatter because the pain had incrementally worked its way through the tension in her jaw. “You.” She barked at a young woman who’d been passing her at the incidentally, wrong time. “Come here and assist.” Through a hiss of teeth she added. “Please.” Because this was not her domain, and she had no immunity here. Akhila didn’t wait for the young woman to agree, or put down her ridiculous purse. 
She swiftly knelt beside a gentleman that’d arrived with a posterolateral dislocated elbow. “I’m going to need you to stand up, and lean over.” She told him, measured and without malice. Akhila assisted him up, and then glanced at the woman she’d summoned. “You, support him and don’t let him move.” This would be easier if they could lay him down on a bed but that simply wasn’t feasible. Akhila took ahold of his arm, skimming her thumb over his olecranon.
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“If you’re squeamish, I wouldn’t recommend looking.” She did however need the woman to assist. Otherwise, this was going to be difficult she needed the assistance of gravity.
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dancingamongstdust · 3 years ago
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MHA Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 2)
Pinky/Alien Queen
The first time you met Mina was when you were much younger.
She had been in the friends group that you always admired and it had taken you a while to work up the courage to speak to her. Everything about her screamed her confidence and you looked up to her in almost every way possible. She was beautiful, her quirk was powerful, and there wasn’t a person alive who could dislike her.
But she had hardly noticed that you were there. At least, you had believed that you would slip under her radar. She wouldn’t know that she was your inspiration for your school choice and that was fine by you.
And yet…
Your name was called only a few minutes after you stepped through the main gates. A blur of pink nearly bowled you over and Mina practically picked you up with the strength of her hug.
“I didn’t know that you were coming here!” she squealed. “This is so cool! I was super worried that I was going to not know anybody here. Did you get into the hero course also?”
You laughed awkwardly, stepping away despite not really wanting to stop the hug. It was odd to stand before her and realised that not only did she know who you were but she was excited to see you.
You hadn’t just been a background character in her massive friend group.
“I didn’t try for the hero course,” you explained. “I’m here for the marketing course.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Wait, really? Your quirk would really suit being a hero though.”
“I know but it’s just not for me.”
Mina grabbed your arm then, walking closely by your side as you entered the large school. “That’s okay! I’m going to need a good marketing team one day when I’m out saving the world. Who better than somebody who’s known me since middle school?”
“You’re like the sweetest person in the world,” you pointed out. “Anybody with a brain cell will adore you when you’re a hero. Your marketing probably won’t have to do anything at all.”
She smiled proudly at your assessment. “Imagine if I make it to the top 10 without even working for an agency. I think I’d be like the first, right?”
You didn’t actually know the answer but, luckily, it seemed to be a rhetorical question anyway.
“I haven’t met anybody from my course yet and I’m super nervous,” she continued. “I saw a few kids during the exam that I am certain got in so I can’t wait to meet them. Hopefully they’re all super nice. Also, I can’t wait to see what they’ve done with my hero outfit! You should see what I sent in because I think you would love it.”
“I’m guessing it works for dancing as well as hero work?” you asked.
She nodded excitedly. “Do you expect anything else? I actually don’t think I’ve ever asked but do you like dancing?”
“I mean –“
You didn’t get much time to answer before she spotted somebody and excitedly grabbed your arm. “That guy was in my exam!” she said. “I just knew he was going to make it! You should see how awesome his quirk is. I’m going to go say hi.”
She raced off into the crowd, heading for somebody that you hadn’t quite seen. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face at the thought of continuing to be in the same school as her. Perhaps now, without the distractions of others, the two of you could become actual friends.
You held your head high, excited to meet others in your course and learn some things to speak to her about in the coming days.
Red Riot
There was no place in the world quite like your home. Returning after far too long, you were extraordinarily excited to revisit all your favourite places and meet up with people.
Except that most of your friends had moved away from home in order to live on school grounds. And your favourite street food vendor had disappeared. Even the park had removed the swings that you had so many good memories associated with.
And thus, what had started as a great day had quickly gone downhill.
You found yourself just walking around, snacking on something small and hoping to just relax a little before having to unpack. Much of the place felt dull and uninteresting – not even the stuff that had remained being enough to cheer you up. It was honestly a little miserable and you had been hoping for some excitement.
Your request to the universe was thankfully answered when you finally spotted a familiar face standing outside the massive gates ahead of you.
Slowly, you made your way over and grabbed Midoriya’s shoulders playfully. The friend that you once knew would have jumped but laughed at it once he saw you.
He didn’t do that.
You yelped in pain as he spun around and grabbed your wrist tightly. He had never been strong before but now his grip felt like it could break bone.
The moment he recognised you, he released his hold and you backed away feeling thoroughly embarrassed.
“That was a bit excessive,” you commented dryly when he said your name.
“I am so sorry,” he said, quickly holding up his hands. “I thought that you – I mean, you gave me an awful fright.”
“No problem,” you said though your wrist still smarted. “I was going to do it to Bakugo originally.”
As though he magically heard you mention his name, the blond lifted his head from where you had spotted him beyond the gates. His ever-present snarl was still on his face and it only deepened when he spotted you. “I thought you had gone off and died somewhere!” he snapped, loud enough that many students turned to look curiously.
“You wish I had!” you responded. “I didn’t think they would let you into such a fancy school. I’m impressed.”
“And I’m disappointed that they let you back into the city!”
“He’s as sweet as always,” you said, turning back to Midoriya who looked at least slightly happy to see you. “I’m glad that you got into your dream school. You were always working so hard to make it happen. How did you do it?”
“I got a late quirk,” he chuckled.
A shadow fell over you and you turned to give Bakugo a glare. “You’re standing in my sunlight. Could you move?”
He was about to respond, undoubtedly with a cutting remark when a red-haired guy smoothly stepped around him. “You must be from their middle school, right?” he guessed, holding out his hand. “I’m Kirishima.”
You were beyond confused at having your impending fight interrupted. Bakugo didn’t seem to feel the same way, instead looking resigned. This happened often then.
You introduced yourself though, keeping your surprise well hidden. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m sorry you have to be in the hero course with these two. I doubt they’ve gotten better with their constant fighting.”
“You’d actually be surprised. Their rivalry is just so manly and inspiring,” he enthused, looking for all intents as though he genuinely believed it. “But they’ve actually been getting along better recently.”
“Really? Tell me some details?”
Before anybody could protest, Kirishima began expressing how the two had slowly been growing to respect one another. Most of his praise fell onto Bakugo (who was giving you a look that promised you would die very soon) and you made sure to inject playful comments every now and then.
At the very least, your day was getting better by the minute.
Shoto
Sometimes people would call you a disappointment. They were rarely people of importance – at least in your life, and it was something you’d learned to ignore them in a healthy childishness sort of way.
Despite what all those people thought, you weren’t a disappointment.
And it certainly was unfortunate.
Your parents weren’t pro-heroes but they held great sway in other ways. Ways that earned them a seat at many tables and an introduction at others. And that was how you made connections and earned your own reputation. Though accourding to many, the latter wasn’t something that you should be proud of.
You walked with your head held high and accepted any words that they offered to you with a simple smile and the occasional rude gesture.
It had served you well enough until you found yourself at some stuffy gala with nobody to talk to. On the surface, you had expected everything to continue in the same way that it always had.
But your parents stuck closer to you than ever. Normally they would disappear to socialize but tonight was different.
You found out why when they marched you almost directly to one of the world’s most intimidating people.
The Number Two hero himself.
Perhaps it was because of your normal personality but he made you uncomfortable. Everything about him ate at you and made you want to fight. But you merely introduced yourself and wondered what it was that he wanted.
“Your quirk is admirable,” he said. “If rumours are to be believed.”
“They’re rarely reliable,” you said.
He glanced at your parents, seeming to have a silent conversation with them before nodding. “Wait here,” he said.
Your parents disappeared to go talk to people but both gave you equally strong warnings – though their own came mostly through looks than actual words. Leaving wasn’t an option, no matter how long it took. And it really felt like absolute ages before Endeavor reappeared, his youngest son trailing behind him.
“Shoto and you are close in age,” he said. “Speak to one another.”
That… wasn’t what you had been expecting.
Shoto Todoroki didn’t want to be there but his dislike for the event seemed to go even further than your own. Though he didn’t frown, his deadpan spoke volumes and an uneasy atmosphere settled over you both. Once Endeavor marched off, you were very much expecting him to leave but he remained, staring at you.
“Hey,” you greeted.
“Hi.”
You chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of your neck. “I haven’t really been told to make friends since I was much younger…”
“This isn’t about us being friends,” Todoroki said. “This is about creating a good reputation with your parents through our connection. They already get along well but this would undoubtedly benefit them both.”
“Oh,” was really all you could say.
“Business as usual,” he responded.
“So, you’re not up for being friends?” you asked, half-joking because you were unsure what else to say or do in this type of situation.
“I don’t care much either way.”
You could go off and cause trouble. It was tempting to be caught sneaking food into your bag again or climbing to the roof and taking selfies. But those were the things that you always did at these events. Never did you interact with anybody and you were, admittedly, curious about the burn that covered the younger Todoroki’s face.
“Well, we should talk then,” you declared. “After all, we are a ‘similar age’.”
He rolled his eyes at your attempt at an impersonation of his father’s voice. At the very least, he didn’t seem to consider talking to you to be that much of a chore.
(I’ve begun writing a much longer Todoroki x Reader story with a similar situation. You can find it on by clicking here).
Shinso
People loved gossip. That was a sad but inherently true fact. Some preferred to keep away from the stuff and knew nothing about their own reputation but you liked knowing what they said about you. Thankfully, the majority of the time, it was good.
But that was unfortunately not true for everybody.
You heard them whispering about him as you entered class the one day. He always kept to himself but after the sports festival, Shinso had garnered many positive things said about him. You had never spoken to him yourself but you had thought that he was proud of how he could impress people.
Originally, you brushed it off as more speculation but the gossip sounded meaner than ever so you chose to listen in.
“No, I’m telling you, it’s scary as shit,” one guy was saying. “I began thinking all these really dark thoughts about like what I could do to people and stuff. It must have come from his quirk, right?”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah, it was wild. I know you guys all think that he’s some big shot but we should be careful trusting somebody with a quirk like his.”
You cleared your throat, quickly drawing attention to yourself. It would be plausible if you didn’t know the main person describing his experience. He was always complaining about not getting enough credit or attention – never seemed to be without something rude to say about every quirk but his own.
And he had been getting steadily more jealous of the general course’s most famous student.
“There is no way that Shinso’s quirk could do that,” you said firmly. “Don’t you remember how it was described at all? It doesn’t take over your thoughts, just your body.”
The guy scoffed. “No offense class rep but I don’t think you know what you’re talking about. I got hypnotized yesterday, not you.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, willing to take the bait but unable to yet. Shinso normally got to class shortly before it began. So you waited until he arrived and then stepped in front of him with a friendly smile.
“Hey Shinso! I’m sorry to do this but I’ve been getting some conflicting answers about your mind control,” you said, projecting your voice just loud enough. “Could you show me?”
“Show you what?”
He sounded as though he had just woken up. You would have given him some time but you were on a bit short on it with class starting soon.
“How it feels to be under your hypnosis thing,” you said. “Apparently it’s kind of awesome and I was wondering if you could do it to me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Is this a dumb bet?”
“Nope. I just want to feel it.”
He sighed heavily as though you were asking for the toughest thing in the world which, admittedly, you may just be doing.  “Do you like ramen?”
“Yes.”
You felt as though you’d been plunged into an ice bath. All of your limbs grew cold distant, like they had been yanked from your grasp. Initially, you panicked but you focused on relaxing. Shinso was in control, that was all that was happening. You trusted Shinso wouldn’t make you do anything.
“Go and sit at your desk,” he said.
His words sent a jolt through your body and it began to moving, dragging itself to follow his orders. Once you were sitting, the warmth came back to you and you could feel your own limbs once again.
“That was so awesome!” you said happily. “Thank you! It’s pretty startling initially but once you remember what’s happening, it begins to make sense.”
He nodded and sat down at his own spot.
You made direct eye contact with the group who had been gossiping earlier and you gave them a dazzling smile. The main one gave you a dirty look but you ignored it, relishing instead in the proof that you now had.
Suneater
Everybody knew who the Big 3 within U.A. were. They were impossible to ignore but quickly made friends with everybody, at least, two of them did.
Having been in their class for your entire U.A. experience, you had watched their quirks develop and fought alongside them in many exercises. They tended to stick to themselves for team ups or wound up working alongside one another. You had respected that but now you were beginning to get curious.
So, the one day you walked up to Nejire and told her, “I want to speak to Tamaki.”
She frowned at you in confusion. You were friends and often hung out together which meant, “You’ve spoken to Tamaki before.”
“No, I’ve spoken to groups that happen to have him in them. That’s not speaking to him, that’s speaking around him. Whenever I try to address him directly, Mirio or you end up answering for him.”
“That’s just Tamaki,” she said, taking a bite of her lunch bar.
It was just after a pretty intense training session and everybody was feeling quite tired. Most of you snacked before returning to class, citing that you had had complications in removing costumes or something similar.
“But I’ve been in his class for three years now and I’ve never actually spoken to the guy,” you urged. “Can you blame me for being curious?”
“I guess not but he’s not going to have anything interesting to say. He’s pretty quiet about literally everything.”
“Still…”
“You can try.”
Later at lunch, you joined the group at Nejire’s request. She plopped you down directly next to Tamaki and grabbed Mirio’s attention from the moment the conversation started. They spoke about something arbitrary which left you to speak to Tamaki… who was making a point to stare at his food.
“Tamaki, how’s your training been going?” you asked.
He glanced towards Mirio who paused his conversation with Nejire to tell you all about this new move that Tamaki was working on. You smiled and nodded but you weren’t too happy with this.
Nejire sensed it and this time told Mirio that she needed to show him something. Tamaki made to go with them but she quickly said, “Nope, only Mirio,” and practically dragged him away.
Second attempt.
“You work with Fatgum, right?” you asked. “He’s one of my favourite heroes. Is he just as friendly in real life?”
Tamaki gave a small nod but said nothing else.
“Why’d you choose to work with him?”
There was a moment of silence and then Tamaki muttered out something about food-related quirks. It was so soft that he honestly may as well have not answered for all the information you got. You wondered if it was just you but you knew it wasn’t.
“During my patrols the other night, we found this gang with a guy who could create like spikes from his feet. They made him a surprisingly fast runner but we caught him eventually. I became a parkour expert during the chase.”
Tamaki didn’t respond at all.
So you sighed in way that you knew he wouldn’t notice and just resigned yourself to silence. It was better than speaking to yourself at least.
Minutes went by and you considered sending Nejire a message to tell her to just come back when Tamaki spoke.
It was still soft but it was actually directed toward you. “What happened to the rest of the gang if you were chasing one guy?”
You looked up with an excitement that you really hoped wasn’t too visible. “Well, thankfully I wasn’t alone and the other work study students got them. But of course, I ended up having to chase the fast guy.”
“They always try and get me to deal with the big groups,” he said. “Fatgum thinks my quirk is good for crowd control.”
“You know, I could really see that. Have you ever been like really out of your depth?”
“All the time. Once…”
And that was how you started your friendship with Amajiki Tamaki.
Tailman
Japan’s public transport system was one of the best in the world, that was something you believed with an utmost sincerity. But like anything, it always runs the risk of getting stuck behind a hero-incident.
You were on your way home from a day that felt like it had dragged by at the pace of a snail. Most of what you wanted to get done hadn’t happened so, though it wasn’t particularly bad, it was boring and bland. All you had been looking forward to was getting home and finally just sleeping for as long as you could.
The train jostled slightly as it left the station and you felt safe enough to let go of the grab handle for a short while. You knew the train route better than anybody else, having to ride it multiple times in a day.
You scrolled on your phone and just counted the minutes to each turn and hiccup in the train’s path. Everything was going accourding to plan.
And then, from somewhere outside the train, you heard a massive explosion.
A battle was happening in the city and you could see the glints of light from where you were standing. You reached up for your grab handle. Unfortunately, you moved too slow.
The train came to a jerking halt and you found yourself tumbling backward as it tried to continue forward. You accidentally slammed into the guy behind you, stepping on his foot and just about headbutting him.
The guy steadied you and helped you stand once the train had come to a full stop.
“I am so sorry,” you said, turning to face him.
“It’s no problem.”
He looked familiar enough that you stared a little – trying to identify where you knew him from. His blond hair and dark eyes didn’t stand out too much but then you spotted the tufted tail over his shoulder.
“You’re part of U.A.’s hero course, aren’t you?” you asked, a little too excited but unable to help yourself.
He seemed momentarily confused but a blush spread across his face, nevertheless. “Yeah, I am. How did you know?”
“I recognise you from the sports festival,” you admitted. “Sorry, I’m sure you get that a lot. And also, sorry for standing on your foot. Your quirk is really cool by the way and I’m talking a bit much now so I’m sorry.”
“You’ve apologised way too much now,” he laughed. “It’s okay and thanks. My tail often gets overlooked because of the flashier quirks.”
You frowned. “Really? But it’s so cool.”
He smiled and shrugged, as though resigned to a simple fact. “It’s just a tail.” He looked through the window. “Looks like the fight’s going to take a while.”
You couldn’t see much and most people were already clamoring to get to the best spot to watch. “That’s fine,” you said. “As long as Mountain Lady doesn’t break the tracks again… that’s happened to me before I had to walk for almost two hours to get home.”
He chuckled. “I’ve had something similar but my tram got overturned. Honestly, I hope to become a hero that never causes such extreme property damage.”
“I’m sure the city will thank you if nobody else does,” you joked. “And I will too… though, if I’m being honest, I don’t actually know your name.”
“Ojiro,” he said. “My current hero name is Tailman but it’s more of a work in progress.”
You giggled. “I like it. It’ll work great on merchandise, you know?”
“Thank you. What’s your name?”
You told him happily. Though the battle left you waiting on the train for almost a full hour, you didn’t mind at all because you spent the entire time talking about anything and everything. Right before you left, you had offered Ojiro your number and he had gladly taken it.
Tentacole
Some people said that you were far too skittish to be in a hero school. Well, most people said it. Honestly, it was quite offending but also very correct in almost every way.
Loud noises made you jump. Insects or insect-like quirks made you very uncomfortable. There was even somebody in the school who made lights flicker on and off, never failing to make you leave a room the moment that they entered. You tried to stick with your friends at all times but it wasn’t possible for them to always be there.
It was later in the afternoon when you walked through the halls to notice a dark sky overhead.
You shivered while staring up at it, knowing that a storm would definitely be rolling in soon. If you could, you would have headed home immediately and attempted to hide from the noise that was sure to come.
But you didn’t have that option available.
You made your way to your next class, avoiding people and keeping an unwavering eye on the weather. Perhaps you should have just pretended it didn’t exist because you saw the moment that lightning flashed. Thunder followed and you jumped.
Your bag nearly fell on the floor as you dashed to hide behind the least scary person nearby.
Who just so happened to be one of the hero course students?
You hadn’t meant to cower behind him but he was tall and gave off an insane feeling of protection. It had been instinct. But you quickly realised that you probably shouldn’t hide behind a complete stranger.
You forced yourself to step away from him and bowed your head in apology. “I’m sorry for my actions,” you said. “I just got scared by the thunder.”
He was incredibly tall and had a complete multiplex of limbs. A mask hid the majority of his face but when he spoke, you could still hear him clearly. “It’s alright. You don’t have to worry about the weather, you know? U.A. is well protected from any lightning or storm winds.”
“It’s more just the sound,” you said nervously, glancing toward the sky. “I’m a little skittish about it.”
“You’re skittish about literally everything,” somebody said as they walked past.
It was one of your classmates who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself. You chuckled nervously and fought back the temptation to follow her to class in order to feel safe. Everybody knew that you were a nervous person and many found it funny instead of worrying as they once had.
You blushed and stepped away from him, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Sorry again. I really do get scared of everything.”
“It can’t be everything if you were willing to hide behind me,” he pointed out. “I’m pretty terrifying in my appearance.”
You scoffed at that, catching your rudeness seconds after it appeared. Hurriedly, you explained, “I don’t think you’re scary at all. Like your quirk is awesome and all but it’s not like you could kill me by not paying attention.”
“And you know many quirks like that?”
“I’m sure you do also.”
He nodded slowly just as another crack of thunder rolled across the sky. You jumped a little but managed to not run away. “Do you want me to walk you to your classroom? It might make you feel a little safer.”
You blinked at him. “Are you sure? Won’t it make you late also?”
“It shouldn’t.”
The two of you walked side-by-side through the halls, his height practically shielding you from the storm outside. You were eternally grateful, especially when the rain picked up as you were nearing your class. When you arrived, you breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you for the escort…”
“Shoji.”
Tsukuyomi
Being stuck in the dorms took some getting used to.
You found that you couldn’t sleep most nights, tossing and turning while trying to get comfortable. The need for them was clear but you couldn’t help hating the reason behind it all. Your home was comfortable and here you often found random mushrooms growing across the kitchen counters.
It was late one night and you had found yourself staring at the ceiling for about an hour before deciding to do something about it. You climbed out of bed and threw on your favourite jacket with little thought. There had to be something to be done.
You walked down to the main room and found that everybody had retired to their rooms. The kitchen was barren and the front door was… unlocked?
It certainly wasn’t meant to be but you didn’t question it.
Instead, you slipped out of the dorms and closed the door tightly behind you. The fresh night air invigorated your senses and you turned onto the main path. There was no destination in mind for you. All you wanted to do was walk.
When you initially spotted another person, you started getting nervous. What if the door had been a trick? Would villains try to lure students from their dorms?
But you soon recognised the bird-like features of a student from 1A. Tokoyami.
“Hey,” you greeted, waving so that he didn’t get a fright like you had.
He frowned and you both came to a stop, walking paths having led you face to face with one another. “I wasn’t expecting to find another person out here,” he said. “I thought these midnight walks were pretty uncommon.”
“So did I,” you joked. “Do you mind if I join you? Some company is always better than walking alone.”
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”
You fell into step beside him and the two of you strolled through the main areas of U.A.’s grounds. Neither one of you wanted to leave which worked out well. Fireflies drifted past your nose and crickets sang their cheery tune.
“Do you struggle to sleep?” Tokoyami asked.
“A little. The dorms are quite an adjustment from what I’m used to. What about you? What are you doing out here so late?”
Tokoyami looked up at the sky. “I’ve always liked the night,” he said. “The darkness is welcoming and filled with far less expectations than the day. It’s unfortunate that my quirk keeps me away from it as much as it does. Otherwise, I often think that I may just become nocturnal.”
“I get that. When I was a kid, I’d sometimes drag my blankets out to the garden and just sleep under the stars.”
“I never thought that the two of us may have something in common,” Tokoyami mused. “Though, if I’m being honest, I didn’t think too much of you. I know your class and your quirk but little else.”
You giggled. “I was just thinking about it. It’s surprising how little our classes interact even though we’re all working toward one goal.”
“It’s a pity, honestly.”
You glanced around at the darkness and a thought occurred to you. “Would you be fine with bringing out Dark Shadow here? Or are the streetlights not strong enough?”
“They’d be fine but I often like to have my thoughts away from him,” Tokoyami said. “With training, I’ve grown used to having him around constantly but sometimes, the quiet is nice.” He glanced at you. “I appreciate your company quite a bit though.”
“Oh, thanks.” It was a good thing that the dark could hide your blush so well.
Uravity
The roof of U.A. had become your safe spot for many reasons – not least of which was your ability to get there with an ease that befuddled many other students. Even you didn’t know if it was more because of your quirk or if you were just talented at climbing.
What you did know was that once you were up there, the rest of the world fell away and all you had to worry about was the clouds and an occasional bird.
One day, while you were relaxing close to the edge, a pen drifted past you. It was pink and adorable – floating through the air as though the laws of gravity meant naught to it.
You reached out and took it from where it was floating. It continued trying to leave your hands but, after a little while, the effect seemed to wear off. You twirled it between your fingers, wondering if it belonged to somebody in specific.
Then a second pen appeared and you took that one too.
It became a slight game. You allowed them to get high enough before capturing them and soon, you had a small pile of stationary in your pockets. They were surely coming from somebody and you planned to return them as soon as you got down.
Then, a small notepad appeared. On the first page, a little ‘Hi’ was written in cursive with a heart doodled beside it.
You flipped over to a new page and wrote your own greeting aside a quick flower. Then, you allowed the notepad to drift back over the edge. It rose for a short while but then gravity came back and it plummeted toward the ground. You watched it go and hoped that it didn’t land in dirt or anything.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem to because it soon came up with a new message. ‘I’m Uraraka. What’s your name?’
You wrote down a response and the notepad dropped again. Soon, it returned, telling you that your name was very pretty. That made you laugh and blush a little.
In return, you asked why she was sending notes to you and she said that she had been trying to get her quirk more accurate. Apparently, she could take away gravity from objects and she’s working on holding it for longer.
You asked if she wanted her stationary back and she said no, it was okay. You could give it back later.
Being a bit flirtatious, you had asked if she wanted to get a milkshake when you gave it back and, to your immense surprise, she said that sounded like fun. The conversation continued through the notepad with much laughter until you realised something sad. You had run out of paper to write on.
Uraraka realised this also and she put a sad face on the final page.
So you leaned over the top of the roof and glanced around to see if anybody was looking up. Sure enough, you quickly spotted a brunette who was almost directly beneath you and wearing a soft pink outfit.
You waved and received one in return.
Flipping to the front of your notebook, you scribbled down your number and put several arrows to make sure she saw it. To your surprise, she actually caught the notepad when you dropped it instead of letting it hit the ground.
She gave you a thumbs up when she noticed that you were watching. Soon, your phone buzzed as a message from an unknown number came through.
‘Hi!’
You took a picture of your view and sent it through, mentioning that she was smaller than you thought. She laughed and asked if you had good signal up there. The best, you were sure. Then your phone began ringing and you answered a video call with the cutest girl you had ever seen.
“I didn’t know you could get to the roof,” she laughed.
“With the right dedication, you can do anything.”
142 notes · View notes
saturnsummer · 3 years ago
Note
Solhwi prompt:
Sol A tries to set up a date between sol B and joonhwi after his court 'confession' (even though she is lowkey jealous) assuming he was talking about her and confusion ensues... And if you can use the following dialogue-
"Sol, it's you. It has always been you."
love's complicated.
Sol A's not jealous. She really isn't.
But what was this twisting, nerve wracking feeling that she feels every time she sees Sol B?
notes: prompted by @confusedsoulsramblings ! i had so much fun writing this, i had to add a small bonus at the end. i had no intention on making this so long, but i guess it’s my trait to make long fics. spelling, grammar and incorrect information will be taken responsible by me. thank you all for support, once again! let me know of more prompts, questions or your reviews! feedback and criticism very much appreciated! thank you all, once again for the endless love!!
words: 3000 words.
ao3
Sol shouldn't be any less shocked during Yeseul's trial. When Prosecutor Jin cornered Joon Hwi with his question, she turned to look at her roomie at the same time she did. Then, she saw Joon Hwi’s eyes trail nervously, fluttering between them both. Sol knew his answer from the look on his face. 
It was never her to begin with.
She wasn't angry. She wasn't upset. She expected it. Sol B was sophisticated, graceful and beautiful. She knew how all the freshmen would nickname her "Ice Princess.". Could anyone disagree? Furthermore, coming from a family of lawyers and prosecutors, who wouldn't love her? She was a dream child. She possessed both the brains and the beauty. 
Joon Hwi was always open with his teasing and words. He loved teasing her over their first meeting at the bookstore. He loves visiting Byeol randomly, even when Sol isn't home. He often comments with sentences that could have secondary meanings, and was very much teased by Bokgi. Even though he infuriated her sometimes, she always smiled with him.
Sol felt special, if she was honest. She felt like the only girl that he had his eyes on. She couldn’t help but feel tingly inside and her heart blooming like flowers in spring. Yeseul spent hours convincing Sol that Joon Hwi likes her, and on some nights, she liked to fantasied to the thought of it. 
Of course, it means nothing to her now.
Sol sits alone in the study room, huffing out a sigh. She ruffles her hair and buries her face into her sweater sleeves. She can't believe that she can't study due to Joon Hwi liking her roommate. She doesn't like the twisting feeling in her stomach, and she doesn't know what it's called, too.
Was she... jealous? 
Sol shakes her head vigorously and slaps her face a couple of times. No, she thinks, and lets out a breathy laugh. She can’t be. As far as her feelings went, she never considered seeing Joon Hwi more than best friends. The chances of him liking her was held at a much higher percentage than her liking him, in Sol’s head. 
But thinking back, she couldn’t deny her feelings anymore. She couldn’t bury her feelings any further, especially now that she has accidentally dug them up. Her snarky remarks, the way she acted with him, the burning feelings she felt whenever someone spoke bad of him, her smiles that she would sometimes save for him. 
Maybe, she does had feelings for this second round judicial exam passer. 
But at the same time, she felt wrong. Her roomie was oh, so obviously in love with Joon Hwi, harbouring such toxic feelings felt wrong. It felt backstabbing and so betraying. She couldn’t be jealous. She can’t be, anymore. She should be happy, for her best friend to fancy such a perfect partner like Sol B.
Even if it meant that her feelings were not returned, she didn't mind. 
Because his happiness and smile was enough for her. 
-----
Sol did her best to squash those toxic feelings. She reminded herself that her roomie was in love with her best friend, and her best friend felt the same. She avoided every moment she was caught between them and always scooted away when Joon Hwi wanted to sit with her. She gave lame excuses (”I want to sit with Yeseul”, “Yebeom needs to help me with a case”), but her feelings only bubbled up stronger inside. 
She witnessed as her cold faced roomie soften in her speech when talking to Joon Hwi, the way her eyes softened when he would explain something to her, the way he gave the exact same smile to her when he witnesses her finally figuring things on her own. Or the eyes that he gives when he devours his ramyeon while Sol eats her extra pickles with equal fervour. 
If Sol was being honest and straightforward, she wanted to take out her anger on Joon Hwi. For leading her on to believing that he liked her. For being so flirty with her that even BokGi wanted to join in on the teasing. For playing her into this game, only to leave her hanging and lost and completely blindsided by his feelings.
But no, she couldn’t. She knew it wasn’t his fault. She blamed herself, for letting herself be lead by him. She blamed herself for falling for him, instead of focussing on her studies. She was always more rash and emotional. 
It was her decision to fall for his charms, not his. 
She can’t bring herself to blame him, knowing that Joon Hwi was always like this. Mumbling with low spirits, she sunk lower into her chair in the empty study room. She purposely didn’t want to tell anyone that she would be studying in the study room, in hopes that she could be alone. Heading back to her dorm was not an option, since her roomie’s presence would made her so guilty.
“Why the long sigh, sunbae?” She freezes at the nickname. Internally, a part of her lights up, recognising the voice, but even more the nickname that was said. As quickly as it came, it dissipated as she finally registered who it was, and her guilt ridden feelings came right back up. 
Joon Hwi walked in, with his bag slung over, his signature smirk on his face. Pulling a chair, he scooted it over nearer to Sol. Peering over her book, he leaned closer and grabbed the pen she was holding.
“Ooh, criminal codes. Are you having trouble?” He asks, leaning closer to her. 
Sol was so glad he was not looking at her. His body was so near hers, that she could smell the fresh cologne he wore, and the slight musk of sweat from a whole day of work. She couldn’t stay here any longer, while having a knot in her stomach. Leaping from her chair, she gathered her books, nearly scaring Joon Hwi and she quickly packed her things. 
“I... I just remembered that I needed to meet Yeseul for something!” She blurts out, before running out the room. 
She ran up to where the lecture halls were at, before going back down and escape to a part of their campus garden. She always took the same spot, a hidden corner hidden away by a tree that even Joon Hwi isn’t aware of. She frequented that area many times, when she was still insecure about making friends and found it particularly comforting.
“This is no good, I can’t run off every time I see him.” She mumbles to herself. She knew she was right. She knew Joon Hwi was smart to catch on about her not attending classes as usual with her seat next to him. Even though she still showed up for study group, she knew that he could sense the change in her mood. 
She needed a plan, and she needed it ASAP. 
-----
A week passed after her awkward encounter. Sol had gotten used to the twisted feeling in her stomach. After a week of debating in her head, she formulated her plan to get her feelings over and done with. 
She was going to have her roommate and Joon Hwi date. 
Sol had figured that if there’s anything she does best, it’s to disappoint herself. Instead of losing face to her best friend and confessing to him about how she felt, she much rather have her feelings crushed instead. Because she knows that he will probably debate on who to choose and she couldn’t let him be the decision maker. He doesn't need to make such a difficult decision. 
Besides, Sol knew her roomie’s situation. With an overbearing and controlling mother, the least she could do to make her happy was to have the man she crushed on. He could at least help her in her studies, benefitting her mother’s dreams of being a judge one day and have him by her side forever. 
Sol knew the date was going to go well. Sol B had the hugest crush, Joon Hwi would have might as well admitted to her that he had feelings for her in front of the whole court room. All they were missing were private moments alone, without their textbooks and no mentions of school. Oh, and maybe a few glasses of wine and a fancy restaurant in town.
And so Sol found herself in the study room alone again, thinking about how to tell Joon Hwi about setting up a date between Sol B. 
Apparently, fate meant for it to happen now.
Because Joon Hwi strode in, a familiar smile on his face, in his hoodie. 
“Stuck again?” Joon Hwi says, nodding to her books on the table. She contemplates going into small talk and saying yes, but pushes her thoughts aside. No, she needed this out of her system. 
“Joon Hwi, how would you like to go on a date with Sol B?” She blurts out, literally making her point across. Joon Hwi is stunned for a moment, as he sets his bag on the table, leaning on a chair. 
“Well...what makes you think I would enjoy it?” Joon Hwi stutters back, clearly stunned. 
“Oh, I mean, well, you know how Sol B likes you, don’t you? And I think it’ll be nice for you to go on a date with her. You know get to know my roomie more.” Sol replies as casually as she can. A part of her hopes he says no, that he rather spends his time doing anything else. 
But instead, he just shrugs and nods. 
And her heart drops, shattering like glass into a thousand pieces. She maintains her bright smile on her face, and even gives a convincing laugh. Sol sits through the next ten minutes of her telling Joon Hwi when she’s free tomorrow and promising she won’t tell anyone, not even Yeseul. 
As best as she can, she excuses herself from him, hoping her voice isn’t shaky when she says “I hope you enjoy your date!” as she walks away. Her steps are shaky and she feels lightheaded. She doesn't notice how her eyes are teary, the same way they get when she cuts onions. 
Rushing to the washroom nearest to the garden, she locks herself in a cubicle and takes deep silent breaths. She concentrates on breathing and tries brainwashing herself. Come on, Sol, you can’t be upset for him. You should be happy! Joon Hwi is going on a date! And he’s going with the best girl you know! Why are you upset? She repeatedly chants this in her head, holding in her tears as best she can.
But it unfortunately isn’t enough when she finally cracks, letting the pent up sadness explode from it’s cage, her tears streaming down. She prays the bathroom is empty when she wails and sobs, crumbling to the floor in a heap of tears as she can’t help but get the image of her crush and roommate holding hands and kissing. 
For once in her life, she has never felt so hurt, but she couldn’t blame anyone but herself for putting herself in this situation. She landed herself in this ditch, and now she has to deal with the fact that her crush, her best friend, will be dating her roommate. 
Composing herself, she wipes her tears dry and washes her splotchy face. She rejects Yeseul’s offer for dinner, resorting to spending her night at the campus garden away in her hiding spot. She’s cold, but it’s nowhere near the numbness she feels in her heart deep down. When it gets too cold at 2am, she sneaks back into campus and goes to the long sofas in front of the Lady of Justice statue. 
She sits there staring into space for a long while, before carrying her bag to the, now empty and deserted, study room, where she crouches to the corner of the room. She’s reminded of the moments where he would sit with her so close, their shoulders brushed each other and their fingers always fumbled around for stationary. Everything reminds her of him, and she falls asleep, huddled in a corner, just as the rare rays of sun start to emerge.
She wanted him, but he wasn't hers anymore. 
-----
“Sol. Sol, get up.” She hears a familiar voice say. Having slept for less than six hours, she’s groggy and rubs her eyes. Her back hurts from being hunched over, and her joints are sore and stiff. Her vision comes to focus as she comes face to face with Joon Hwi.
“Ah!” She yelps out, startled by his presence and retreats back, only banging her head against the metal cabinets instead. She winces and rubs her head, soothing her pain. Joon Hwi sighs and holds out his hand. She swats his hand away. 
“Why are you here?” Sol asks Joon Hwi. Joon Hwi holds a serious expression as he steps back to let Sol stand on her own. 
“I take back what I said yesterday.” He says suddenly. 
“Huh?”
“I’m not going on a date with Sol B anymore. I don’t want to.” He blurts out. Sol takes a moment to register his words. Immediately, anger floods in. She can’t tell if it’s residual anger from being mad at him for playing her, or anger on behalf of her roommate. 
“What? What do you mean? But Sol B likes you so much! You should at least give her a chance!” Sol argues back, making her way to the other side of the table at the same time, dumping her bag there. She’s proper angry now, letting her emotions take charge of her actions. Her eyes are frustrated and her face frowns. Joon Hwi stops her and grabs her wrist, stopping her from moving away from him and pulls her back to the same side of the table that he is. 
“I don’t like her. And I don’t think I ever will.” He admits. Sol is breathless, taking in all this new information. But during the court, it was so clear that it was her roommate. She can’t do it, having Joon Hwi so close to her, wanting to be with him, yet getting told that he harbours no feelings for Sol B. The tension she felt was driving her crazy.
“But...” Her speech comes out breathless, almost suffocated out of anger and frustration. 
“Sol.” His voice is an octave lower, as he leans towards her, his face closing the distance. “Listen to me.”
“It’s you. It has always been you. From the beginning, it was always you.” 
Sol lets out a breath, almost suffocating from the tension. 
It...it was her? 
All this while...? 
“I thought... I thought...” She hates how her voice is so full of breath. She’s leaning against the table, and his hands have shifted from her wrist to the side of the table, trapping her.“I thought you liked her. I thought this entire while, she was the one you liked.”
“Maybe this will make you trust me.” 
And he presses his mouth against hers. 
Sol’s startled, not used to Joon Hwi being so dominating. But his soft lips against hers distract her. She removes her hands from the table, bringing them up to his hang around his neck. His hands slowly make their way to her waist as they move in sync. When they finally part, Sol’s face is blushed bright red. She feels his hot breath against her face.
“Believe me now, sunbae?” 
-----
bonus:
Sol B tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ears when she stops in her tracks to meet Joon Hwi.
“Hey, um, can we talk?” He asks awkwardly. She doesn’t know why she feels so calm, knowing that she should be feeling butterflies for having her crush talk to her. Nodding, they head to a spot until the staircases. 
“I don’t know how to put it...” Sol B realises where this conversation is going. In fact, she has been waiting for this day, ever since Yeseul’s court hearing. She knows what he’s going to say before he even says it. 
“You don’t like me, you like Sol A, right?” She completes his sentence. Joon Hwi fumbles in his speech and finds ways to defend himself quickly. But Sol B is quick to cut him off.
“It’s okay.” She says, the closest thing to a satisfied face she can make on her face. “I fully support you.”
“You’re... you’re not sad? Or angry?” Joon Hwi is cautious with his questions. Sol gives a slight scoff. If she’s honest, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what begin her crush for him, to begin with. She can’t remember if it was the way he answered questions, or the time he helped her put on her glasses. All she knows is that he didn’t like her, and she felt peace with that.
“I’ve seen the way you look at her. Your smile and your eyes are enough to prove it. Besides, that's who you were talking about in court, wasn’t it? You wanted to protect her.” She asks. He nods, eyes unable to meet hers. 
When Sol B went to bed the night before, she noticed that her roomie was nowhere. Assuming that she was out studying, she went to bed. But when she woke up the next morning, Sol B found her bed still the same state as last night. It was obvious she didn’t return to the dorm. 
“She didn't come back last night.” Sol B says and Joon Hwi’s eyes widen in panic. 
“What?”
“Check the study room. She might just be studying there.”
“Okay.” He says and turns around. But he turns around once more before jogging away.
“Thank you, for everything.” 
Sol B gives a suppressed smile as she watches Joon Hwi get further and further from him. She tries all she can to find anger, jealousy, sadness, brokenness, denial. 
But yet, all she feels is calming peace. 
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fairyoftbz · 4 years ago
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il y aura des jours meilleurs | c. chanhee
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🖤 pairing: bf!chanhee x fem!reader 🖤 word count: 2k 🖤 genre: angst, comfort, fluff 🖤 tw: negative thoughts, hints of depressive thoughts and struggling  🖤 synopsis: you’re exhausted to the point of giving up but Chanhee is your source of hope and here for you. 🖤 a/n: happy birthday to our pretty boi chanhee!! 💌 i’m currently watching him decorate his cake and talk, he’s so cute :(( i know it’s a bit of a sad story for his birthday but i really wanted to write something for him and my french project! i hope it’ll be enough!
╰☆☆☆☆╮
You sighed as you walked through your front door, carelessly tossing your belongings on the floor. Not even bothering about hanging your jacket and light scarf, you walked in the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet seat. Closing your eyes, it was hard to be positive at this point. It was the third bad day in a row, and it started to really look like the world was planning a mischievous plan to ruin your life. Out of the last week, you couldn’t even point out a positive thing that had happened. Well, Chanhee’s presence and his love always managed to make you smile and feel comforted, but today, it looked like it wouldn’t be sufficient to see the idea of a smile on your face. The permanent frown that you kept on wearing left you with a pounding headache, your surroundings becoming slightly dizzy.
You were impressed when you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry no matter how hard you tried. This lump in your throat and the weight you felt in your chest didn’t seem to subside when you got out of the boiling shower you’ve just had, so you gave up in trying to feel better for tonight.
“Just not this week,” you mumbled to yourself as you lazily dried your hair with a towel before applying some face cream. It was such an exhausting task for you to execute, but you would hate yourself even more in the morning if you saw breakouts appearing because of the dryness of your skin. It was already hard enough for you to control your emotions, your current goal was to not pile up things that could actually ruin your day or make you insecure even more.
You sighed again, deeper this time when you noticed yourself into the foggy mirror. You rolled your eyes and shook your head as you tried to tame down the negative thoughts that were starting to cloud your mind, finally feeling the tears filling your eyes, but you didn’t feel any better. You wiped them away with the back of your hand, quickly applying your serum before switching the lights off and walk out of the bathroom.
With clenched jaws, you stared at the kitchen as you stood in the middle of the corridor, not feeling like eating anything right now. You just weren’t hungry, and even your favourite meal wouldn’t be able to change that. Chanhee would usually scold you when skipped meals out of pure stress or just because you didn’t have time, but today, it was different. Yeah, you weren’t hungry, but you also didn’t feel like cooking at all. It would require too many efforts for you to even get a pan out of the drawer, your stomach twisting uncomfortably at the mere idea of food.
Falling head first into your pillow, you stifled a dry sob as you held the comforter tight against your chest, taking deep breaths as you were trying to calm down. Many thoughts were running inside your mind and you felt like drowning and suffocating in your own sorrow, not knowing what to do or how to act to get better. With your hands covering your face, you allowed yourself to let the tears of despair roll down your cheeks in the quietest way possible. 
The pressure in your chest didn’t magically fade away as you had hoped to, it simply worsened. Having a hard time breathing, you opened your mouth wide and took deep breaths as you tried your hardest to get better, but nothing didn’t really work.
So you gave up. You let the tears flood your entire face and neck and cry in the loudest way possible, not feeling any better. The sorrows living in your body intensified, tightening your throat in the most painful way as you tried to subside your own cries.
You froze when you saw the lights of the corridor flicker open, pressing a hand on your mouth to muffle any sound that could come out of it, the tears filling up your eyes making everything around you blurry and messy. Pursing your lips and closing your eyes, you recognised your boyfriend’s steps walking around the apartment as big tears kept rolling down your face.
Chanhee opened the front door, the darkness and the silence of the apartment welcoming him in. He frowned as the atmosphere felt weird, unusual. He knew something was wrong when he noticed that your coat was messily lying around the floor, the light of the bathroom wall cabinet not properly turned off, like you always made sure to do it. Chanhee looked around the apartment, and you were nowhere to be seen. It’s when he took off his shoes and partially pushed the bedroom door open that he noticed your figure, lying in bed.
You turned to your side, back facing the door as you heard your boyfriend getting closer, hand still on your mouth as you tried to look and sound asleep. Focusing on your heartbeat, you managed to calm down a bit and get a grip on your emotions for a quick second, slowly feeling numb. You closed your eyes and tried to follow a regular breathing pattern to make your boyfriend believe that you were already sleeping, and waited.
The latter entered the bedroom on his tiptoes, a knee on the mattress as it dipped under his weight, the young man stretching his neck over your shoulders to see you asleep. He delicately removed a strand of hair from your face and kissed your cheek, frowning and retracted his mouth as he felt a wet sensation lingering on his lips. He gently caressed your head as he felt the saltiness when his tongue met his lips, the dots connecting in his head.
You waited for him to close the door and leave to sigh and wince, realising that you’ll have to talk to him about your damp cheeks. The tears welled back up when you didn’t want to talk to anyone about what was happening inside your head. You hated when your boyfriend saw you like that, because you knew that Chanhee cared for you and wanted to help you. You also knew it was coming from a good intention, but you didn’t feel like getting anyone’s help right now.
Chanhee came to bed a few minutes later, blindly wandering to the bed to not wake you up by turning on the lights. He stayed silent for a moment as your back was still facing him, hearing him sigh as he pulled the covers on his body. He took your stillness as a sign that you didn’t want to talk to him, because he knew that you weren’t asleep yet. He knew you too well to know that you were pretending, but he also knew that it was your toxic way of coping with your feelings.
Later that night, as the clock struck 3 am, you were still wide awake, resting on your back with your hands joined on your stomach, blankly staring at the ceiling as loud and intrusive thoughts invaded your brain. Chanhee was innocently sleeping next to you, a hand extended towards you as if it were a subconscious offer from him to hold his hand. As stubborn as you were and for the third time this week, you refused to get his help, even if you knew deep down that you needed it very badly. 
You knew that he could actually help you, but it was easier for you to stay in your sorrow and lament yourself until you felt numb, rather than getting help and get back on the path or happiness. You always acted like this, and you never bothered to change any of your unhealthy coping mechanisms.
However, a tiny voice in your head almost begged you to reach out to hold his hand. Your chest tightened as you stared at his slender digits, whose touch never failed to give you reassurance and comfort. Him caressing your arms or cheeks was a sensation that you discovered when you started dating, and it became just as addictive as a drug. You needed it to feel better and worth it. It was as if the remedy was within easy reach, but you didn’t dare touching it because it was sacred. Though luckily this time, you decided to gather your strength and change things.
Chanhee got drawn away from his slumber as he felt a familiar hand touching him, your digits closing around his hand. He opened his eyes and turned to look at you, the shallow lights of the city illuminating the bedroom. Noticing your pearly eyes, he scooted closer to you and wrapped his arms around you, feeling you burst into tears against his shoulder.
“Shh baby. Breathe Y/N, breathe,” he said as his hand touched the back of your head, gently rubbing it to soothe you. “I- I can’t… I can’t do it anymore,” you managed to stutter as you gasped for air, your sobs being so intense that you could barely focus on anything else. “Don’t say things like that, I know you can,” he mumbled in your ear, but you shook your head. “I’m so tired… I’m so exhausted,” his hand gently massaged your head as he repositioned himself under you, your head now on his chest.
His calm heartbeat resonated in your ear, trying to shoo away the negative thoughts in your head. Chanhee didn’t say anything, he understood that he wouldn’t be able to convince you tonight. His chances will probably be higher by tomorrow when you’ll have calmed down from all your tormenting emotions.
“I know it won’t change anything about how you feel, but I love you and I care for you. There are harder times than others and you are going through one right now. it’s okay to feel bad, it’s okay to feel down, but the most important thing is to not give up. It’s completely normal to feel discouraged, but you have to keep going, for your own sake. And I’m here for you, no matter how lonely you felt, I’ll be by your side,” you nodded at his words, head still pressing against his chest as you tried to get his heartbeat to calm you down.
Chanhee softly rubbed your back and kissed the side of your head, knowing that you weren’t convinced at all. He cleared his throat and held you tighter, pulling the comforter higher to cover your shivering figure.
“Trust me, love, there will be better days, I promise. Those are not just words into the void, I mean them. You are going through a tough time right now, but I guarantee you that you will get better. It will take time and efforts and I know how tried you are but keep fighting. Look how far you’ve come, you always did a great job to stand back up and keep going, don’t let it ruin all the efforts you’ve gathered until now. Do it for yourself, and also for me, for us,” you looked up at him with shiny eyes and he nodded, assuring you that he meant every single word he said. 
Your boyfriend wiped the salty pearls away from your eyes and gently smiled at you, hand cradling your cheek.
“Rest now, Y/N. I’ll be here when you wake,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” you tiredly mumbled, feeling tired after all your crying. “I love you too, please never forget that,” his thumb gently rubbed the skin under your eye, instantly wiping the last few tears that you shed before falling asleep out of exhaustion, in your lover’s arms.
Chanhee sighed, tongue poking his inner cheek in frustration. He hated seeing you this down and broken, but he had faith in you. He knew that it was just temporary, that you wouldn’t give up even if you said you would. He was confident that you would jump back up on your feet and keep going, just like you’ve been doing until now. You were strong even if you never admitted it.
“I promise, there will be better days,” he whispered in your ear as he slowly slid down in the bed until his head rested on his pillow, keeping you close to his chest as he fell back asleep, just like you did a few seconds ago.
╰ It’s gonna be okay. You are going to be okay. ╮
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samethyst01 · 2 years ago
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The Only Me Is Me
I used to suffer from sleep paralysis. It’s an entirely otherworldly experience – to have your body totally unresponsive, frozen in place, but your mind is halfway between the waking world and the dreaming one.
When you’re having a sleep paralysis attack, you can’t budge at all. You can still breathe and move your eyes, but every other part of your body is completely locked in place. That part is bad enough.
Your brain’s still waking up, however, and so whatever’s in your subconscious – your dreaming reality – it’s still there. It’s still lurking in the dark, with its brambled eyes and teeth-scraped skull, whispering bloody protrusions into your infected thoughts.
When you ‘wake up’ and find yourself paralysed, the hallucinations come. It’s different for every person with the disorder; the most common sights people describe are of shadowy figures in the corner of the room, or demonic imps sitting on their chest, or voices calling to them from somewhere nearby.
I’ve seen cackling witches and winged beasts, I’ve seen dark phantoms and jagged shapes that cut a living swathe through my periphery; I’ve seen as much as I ever want to see, worse than anything any horror movie or cheap haunted house could conjure up.
But four months ago, I saw something that changed everything.
The attack started like every other: I was on my back, arms stiffly at my sides, staring up at the ceiling. I felt the familiar numbness, the resistance against my body, and I knew immediately where I was. I was in the midst of my own horrors.
My breath quickened and my eyes darted around the darkened room, faintly catching a glimpse of the digits on my alarm clock; it was very early in the morning, still too dim to make anything out. I tried to slow my breathing, tried to steady myself as best I could despite how pointless I knew it was. I wasn’t going to leave until I was allowed to.
And that’s when I saw him.
My eyes flashed past him for a second as I feebly tried to calm myself, and upon him they once again fixed as I realised he was there. I had seen people in my room before, when I had my attacks, and seen them disappear in an instant as soon as I regained control over my body. Some laughed, some screamed… some appeared to float in place.
But he was moving.
He walked towards me, so slowly that I wasn’t sure if perhaps I was imagining his movements. But I wasn’t. He was getting closer, and closer, and I could see on his face that he was smiling; but this smile was wrong in every way, not a happy or kind smile, but one that stretched far too wide and showed far too many teeth… and that never moved.
I grunted and struggled and tried to scream but my lips were firmly held shut. I knew that this was his doing, it was he who had paralysed me, he who wanted me there in that moment, to see him. God, it was all so clear to me.
He slowly crouched down and stared into my eyes, never blinking, the eyes that I recognised as identical to mine. My muffled screams intensified as I saw his face – my face. When he reached out a hand towards me, I saw that it was just like my hand, and when his fingers wrapped around my throat, I could feel that they were the same as the ones that twitched at my sides.
Just as he began to squeeze, I lurched upwards with a start, drenched in sweat. He was gone. I was alone. Terror still had me in its claws, my heart beating out of my chest, but I was alive. I was alive… but I had just seen myself stood in front of me.
I tried to forget him, tried to forget his smile and the coldness in his eyes, but he invaded my dreams every night since the attack. I could never be free of him.
And then one day, as I walked home from work in the darkness of night, I saw him. I saw him standing under a streetlight, saw him staring at me, still smiling. I was compelled to approach him, despite how much I screamed for my body to obey me.
When I stood before him, I saw he was exactly like me. His hair, his clothes, his height, the details on his face and his very specific posture; it all matched. He was me. But I was not him, I couldn’t be, it couldn’t be true. Once again I was frozen completely as I tried to scream.
And then he spoke, in a voice so familiar to me that I can recall every detail even now. It was the voice that had once escaped my own lips.
“Are you sure it’s you who’s real?"
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obeiii-mee · 4 years ago
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Christmas letters, from your favourite demons:
———————————-
Being back at home in the Human Realm was nowhere near as great as you originally thought it would be.
Now that you’ve experienced life in DevilDom and participated in the countless, amazing adventures it had to offer, nothing would be as exciting ever again. And you’ve come to terms with that. Once you arrived back, you fell into your old routines again and allowed life to endlessly drag on, forever wishing the day would just end already. Everything was just....dull.
Of course, you missed them too. Terribly. So terribly, in fact, that even though you got to talk with them on the phone daily, it never felt like it was quite enough. The seven deadly sins and their respective owners made a point to keep in touch with you as much as possible, as had the future King of DevilDom himself. Your demons indeed. The creatures you lived with during your time in DevilDom and got so carelessly attached to. Not to mention the two angels which you considered part of the family as well, seeing as the three of you three spent an awful amount of time together. And then there’s obviously Solomon, who still shows up to your doorstep out of the blue for no other reason than to just say hello but, unfortunately, not as frequently as you wanted him to.
So, you woke up every morning with the pain of realising how much you missed them and how much you wished for them to be here. You weren’t lonely. You had friends and family to keep you occupied. You had a job. You had things to do. But those things never filled the hole in your heart that formed when you left your friends behind. You woke up every morning with enthusiasm for their upcoming phone call and went to bed knowing it would happen again the next day. That was your coping mechanism for the following year.
December rolled around and before you knew it, you were counting the days up to Christmas. You busied yourself that month to get the house decorated, the Christmas tree up and lit, the presents bought and wrapped up ready to be handed out. You made plans with your loved ones for Christmas Day and fell asleep on Christmas Eve, grateful for the distractions the holiday season provided.
You woke up on the 25th of December, knowing damn well the busy day you had ahead and deciding to delay it by reading your mail. Everything seemed fine: bills, bills, Christmas card from F/N (friend’s name) blah, blah, blah.
However, you noticed something different in that bundle of correspondence you had received. An envelope that didn’t have a stamp on it but cursive handwriting that you didn’t recognise at first at all instead. Then you looked through your mail again and spotted another one in slightly messier handwriting. Another one, then another one and Jesus, there had to have been at least a dozen of them!
You laid all of the envelopes out on a table and after a few moments of your brain wheels spinning, it clicked; were the brothers the ones behind this? You hoped so. And you certainly hoped it wasn’t a prank or some random family Christmas mail because that would disappoint you immensely. Too late; you had already raised your hopes way too high.
You had no idea what to expect. At all. So, you sat down in the living room and got comfortable as you picked out a random letter from the pile and began to impatiently tear it open. The handwriting was familiar now and your smile widened the longer you took to open the stupid thing as the rising anticipation got the better of you.
Smoothing out the first letter you got your hands on, you began reading it’s contents with the biggest grin on your face you’ve had in a while:
———————————-
From Lucifer-
Dear MC,
I am extremely happy to finally get into contact with you again as my brothers, and especially Mammon, have gotten rather greedy with the privilege of speaking on the phone with you. I decided to let it pass because they were all pretty down trodden over your leave at the end of the exchange program and thought this would provide some sort of closure for them.
Truth is, I have, perhaps, been handling your absence worse than my brothers have. I’ve kept myself busy over the past year but the mansion doesn’t feel quite as lively as it did when you still lived here, despite it being just as loud thanks to my brothers. Lord Diavolo says he’s worried about me, however I believe he’s over exaggerating as he always does. I want you to know that I’m doing just fine and that you should not worry about me in the slightest.
On the topic of Lord Diavolo, he was the one who came up with the idea of writing to you. A few days ago, he brought to our attention that today is Christmas, a very important holiday to humans all over your realm and believed it would be wise to have all of us write you a ‘Christmas’ letter. As silly as it sounded at first, this had sent my brothers into a complete frenzy and surprisingly, I have been looking forward to it as much as they have.
I don’t plan to waste much more of your time as I’m sure you have a very hard day ahead of you so I will leave you to it in a moment. After all, I’m sure you have received everyone else’s letters by now as well which shall take a bit of time to get through. To get to the point, I have been discussing with Lord Diavolo l the possibility of bringing you back to DevilDom or perhaps visiting you in the Human Realm. We are still making arrangements but it is entirely possible we will meet again in the very near future. I will, without a doubt, try my hardest to make this happen and will hopefully hold you in my arms once again soon enough.
To conclude, MC; I miss you dearly. I wish to hear your voice again, to see you and to have you next to me where you belong. I hope this letter finds you well and that you are just as enthusiastic as we are to reunite with each other. Expect more letters from me, especially if I can’t convince Mammon to hand over my turn to speak with you tomorrow. That is all I have to say for now, MC. I hope you have a ‘Merry Christmas’ as you humans say.
I love you.
Love, Lucifer
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From Mammon
Dear Human,
You better be paying attention to this letter because THE GREAT MAMMON granted you the honour of him writing to you! So ya better be grateful understand? I took precious time out of my day to do this so be happy! And I want you to write back, like right now. Like I expect a letter from you to arrive today alright?
I didn’t really want to write this letter but Lord Diavolo kinda forced me to so now that we’re here I might as well keep writing. I know that you miss me MC and that life must be SO. FUCKING. BORING. UP. THERE because it’s been really boring down here too. And I live in Hell so that says something. But don’t worry! Because a little bird told me that you might be coming back to DevilDom! Actually I eavesdropped on Lucifer and Lord Diavolo talking about it but that doesn’t matter!!
You should be excited to be back ya hear me? Especially because you get to see me again! I expect to have your full, undivided attention alright?! Since I’m your first and everything, it’s only fair you do that, OK?!?
Lucifer told me not make this letter too long because apparently you’re busy right now doing some stupid shit for a random human holiday buuuuuttttt I want you to know that I have been doing slightly better in my classes! And I wish you were here to celebrate it with me because I’m going to go to the casino tonight to reward myself! And it’s not really the same without you. After all, you’re my lucky charm so if you don’t get your ass down here soon enough, then I’m just gonna have to sneak out to the Human Realm by myself!
Levi is throwing a tantrum outside my room so I need to go now. Would it kill him to not interrupt me when I’m talking to you??? I wanted this to be the longest letter out of them all since I’m your first and I’m obviously more important but I suppose you’ll appreciate it either way. The deal is that I miss you, ya big idiot alright? And I want to keep hanging out with you. And I want you to keep helping me out with my homework because everyone sure as hell knows I’m shit at schoolwork. Get back already will ya???
Have a merry Christmas or whatever you’re doing right now.
I really really
I love you
You still have your DDD right? Call me damn it I want to hear your voice!!
From the Great Mammon
————————————
From Levi
To Henry, My Best Friend:
Idk how normies like you write letters during this day and age. Have you never heard of texting??? But I guess it’s not that bad. Especially if it makes you happy, MC. Maybe this letter thing wasn’t such a bad idea.
Today, I suffered an enormous amount of pain that I wish to never go through again. My DDD got corrupted and ALL my Mononoke progress got DELETED!!!! Poof, just gone! Now I have reinstall it! And get to where I left off! If that wasn’t bad enough, while I was sulking over my great loss, I thought I should speak with you because you’re my Henry and you always manage to make things better. So I went to your room. And when I got there I remembered you didn’t live with us anymore. SO THEN MY DAY WENT FROM TERRIBLE TO RIGHT DOWN DEVASTING AND MISERABLE. (P.s: Mammon was in your room. That greedy bastard 100% stole one of your pillowcases, the simp)
I know it’s Christmas up there in the Human Realm and even though all I know about Christmas was originally learned from anime (like the yucky otaku I am), I want you to have a great time! And just to let you know, I still have all my game files saved on my computer so when you do finally come back, we can keep playing together! There’s this new game that came out and I want to play it so badly because it’s got such good reviews!! But you’re my player 2 so I am obligated by the law of friendship to wait for you to come back.
Anyway, I miss you MC. I mean, you’re a normie but you’re my normie and more importantly MY HENRY. My story line can’t really carry on without you. So, I’ll talk with Lucifer and I’ll bring you to DevilDom myself. Even if I have to sell a bunch of my stuff. So please, please try your hardest to summon me or something until then. I am literally dying without you.
Lmaooooooo, Satan tripped Lucifer down the stairs while I was writing this and now there’s a commotion downstairs LOL. I kinda wish you were here to see this, i can hear Lucifer shouting from my room, it’s funny af. I’ll end my letter here because I have to go pester Mammon about my money again cuz he sure as hell didn’t pay me back. PLEASEEE DON’T FORGET ABOUT ME! I know out of all of my brothers I’m easily the most forgotten but please don’t forget that you’re my Player 2, K?
I sorta love you, normie.
Love From Levi
————————————-
From Satan
Dear MC,
I certainly hope you’re not going to get too overwhelmed today, especially considering the amount of letters we have all sent you at once. However, understand that we have a hard time containing ourselves when we get given the opportunity of contacting you in any way, shape or form. Even though we all technically get to hear your voice every other day, it’s not nearly enough for any of us.
I was very tempted to write you a poem but I didn’t have nearly enough time to actually make you one. We were given the idea to write to you only a couple of days ago so composing a poem worthy of you would be impossible to do in that short amount of time. Just know that you are my, and dare I say DevilDom’s, absolute ray of sunshine and always will be. If you were here right now you’d rightfully tease me but I don’t really care. Call me cheesy all you want MC, I’m not one to hide behind bluff like Mammon or Levi.
You already know I have many human acquaintances so therefore, I am very aware of the holiday season you must be partaking in right now. Even if you’re, maybe, stuck indoors. Either way, I’m happy you’re back at home with your loved ones since you must’ve missed them dearly during the exchange program. Make the most of it and enjoy it for your sake, all right? You deserve it, and I mean this wholeheartedly.
I really liked the notion of writing a letter to you, not that I’m that old-fashioned or anything but I believe a letter is way more intimate than a text or an email. Lucifer almost refused to let me send this to you because he’s still really pissed that I’ve pushed him down the stairs earlier. But I somehow got it through to you. In case you’re wondering, Belphie came up with the idea to trip him. I just executed it.
I have so many books I’ve been itching to give you, MC, you wouldn’t believe it. I’ve already read all the ones you let me borrow from you from the human world so once Lord Diavolo agrees to send you back here, bring with you as many books as you can. You know me well, don’t you? My thirst for knowledge is not easy to quench. The same goes for my love to you.
You have a nice Christmas MC, enjoy the vacation because I’m going to make sure we’re going to meet again. And my brothers are still just as moronic so enjoy the quiet while you can.
Much Love, Satan
—————————————
From Asmodeous
To My Darling MC,
It’s incredibly frustrating that I have to deal with my extravagant skin routine without being able to talk to you while I’m doing it. I know you must be in so much pain right now as you don’t get to see my beautiful face every single day like before. Or hear my enchanting voice for that matter because that moron Mammon keeps getting greedy with the phone calls! Unbelievable!
But Oh Darling, you won’t guess all the things that have happened every since you left. Mammon almost got made into stew by the witches because of his debts and Levi filmed it all and posted it on DevilTube, can you believe it? And don’t get me started on the tension between Lucifer and Satan, it’s thicker than you know what ;) My two cherished brothers aren’t getting along and it is just awful; wouldn’t you say?
This letter format isn’t really my style but now you know my handwriting is just as beautiful as me so I guess it could be worse. Ooohh, I just remembered! It’s Christmas Day right? What are you up today then? You must have something planned right? What kind of clothes are you wearing? What about make up? I’ve seen so many amazing Christmas make up tutoring DevilGram that you must try out! And don’t get me started on the amount of outfits I found that would suit you! I bought all of them and I’m keeping them safe in my room until I see you again, OK?
My dear MC, how I miss holding your face in my hands. And I have so many products to try out on you now. I have this new skin lotion that will leave you speechless. That is if my brothers don’t interrupt us while we’re doing this. I hate them so much when they cockblock us like that. Though I suppose it’s understandable seeing as how jealous they get over you. Which is weird, that was supposed to be Levi’s thing you know?
It’s kind of boring going out shopping without you going with me but I guess I’ll survive. I don’t really have a choice. And neither do you. So try your best to manage to while you’re away because you’ll be back with us before you know it. I promise you MC! It will be a very touching reunion.
Don’t forget that I love you lots and lots xxx
Love, Asmo xx
——————————-
From Beel
To MC:
Sorry if the letter is stained or anything when you read it. I’m eating right now so I’ll accidentally get it everywhere if I had to guess. I’m not going to spend too much time on writing this because you definitely have better things to do than read it but I just want you to know I love you.
Lord Diavolo mentioned something about Christmas while exposing his newest scheme to us, I think? It’s a holiday, right? A time to spend with your family? That doesn’t sound so bad actually. I should do that too. I haven’t seen much of my siblings for the past while besides Belphie. I’ll round them up after finishing this so we can watch a movie or something. And get popcorn. Though I wish you were here with us because you are part of my family, I hope you are spending time with yours and having fun.
I miss you a lot more than I expected to, so much so that it started affecting my eating habits a bit. I’ve been eating slightly less lately. Still enough to get yelled at for raiding the fridge but also not enough to draw the concerns of some of my brothers. I can’t help it. Food doesn’t taste nearly as good without you here with me so I don’t take much satisfaction from eating anymore. Training is also harder since I’ve gotten used to you helping me out. I have a lot of energy I need to burn off so I need to fall back into my old routine. Which I’m having trouble with as well.
My nightmares also started again. And I don’t have you to hold my hand at night anymore. So they’ve gotten worse. They distract me but they don’t bother me as much as they do Belphie. He’s also got nightmares. It doesn’t matter though, he still sleeps day and night. He’s sleeping in my lap as I’m writing this. I shouldn’t really add that he misses you too because I’m sure you have his letter as well but I’ll write it in for good measure. Both of us miss you!
I’ll finish the letter here but MC, when you do get back let me know in advance, OK? I need to make you a cake or something. Would you rather human ingredients or DevilDom ingredients? Hopefully I won’t eat the ingredients. Or the cake before you get here.
Make sure you are eating properly. Love you
From, Beel
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From Belphie
To My Human, MC:
i was too lazy to start this at first but then i figured it’s for you so i got kinda motivated. writing this by hand is so tiring, i really don’t understand why diavolo didn’t just let us text you or something. he comes up with the stupidest of plans as usual
i don’t really care for the holiday season but i care about you a lot believe it or not so happy holidays. christmas especially on this particular day. that’s all you’re getting from me
you’ve been gone away for what feels like centuries so please just summon me. i need my emotional support human and that’s you so hurry up will you? i can’t sleep as well without my pillow
also, who the hell am I going to annoy now that you’re gone? the answer to that is lucifer but who am i going to tease since you’re not here anymore? i’m also sorry i’ve been sleeping through your phone calls as well. i don’t have much will to live right now but i’ll get Beel to wake me up every time you call
ok, i’m too tired to continue from here on out. i’ll get you back to devildom one way or another MC don’t worry. in case satan mentioned this in his letter, i may have suggested to him to push lucifer down the stairs. and I filmed it while pretending to sleep. i’m sending you that later, shit is hilarious
i don’t know why but i’m seriously in love with you so stay safe alright?
Blah, Blah From Belphie
————————————
From Lord Diavolo
To My Favourite Human,
MC! I am aware of a human celebration that happens on this exact date today so I thought it would be wonderful if I managed to get everyone to write you Christmas letters! And everyone seemed so excited it made me happy as well.
In case you’re wondering about me, I’m doing well other than being swarmed up in dull and predictable paperwork that as the future King of DevilDom I must complete. Unfortunately, I’m not Lucifer and I can’t really bring myself to plough through the tasks like he can. On a related note, Lucifer has been overworking himself again recently and my concerns of his health grow bigger by the day so maybe ask him about it, when you have the chance?
Ah yes, another thing I must bring to your attention! I want to bring you back to DevilDom MC. Temporarily for now of course but I know some demons that would be more than happy to keep you there permanently, though I suppose I would include myself in that category. During your stay here, you made my pranks on the brothers way more enjoyable and I genuinely felt comforted by your presence. Therefore, even though the studen exchange program is over, I wish to have you come back! There’s still many things we have to discuss about this so just wait for a second letter from me to arrive with the details.
In any case, I really hope you’re having a marvellous time at home. Especially during Christmas. You humans are the cutest when it comes to festivals, I mean you all have a celebration for almost everything! It’s amazing. I expect you to tell me everything about your Christmas over tea when we meet again MC. And it is something I’m enthusiasticly looking forward to!
I miss you just as much as the brothers do so keep in touch, MC.
From Lord Diavolo
—————————————
From Barbatos
Dear MC,
Lord Diavolo suggested we should all take time out of our day to send you some nice holiday wishes. I am not an expert on the human realm outside of their cuisine by any means but I know today must be Christmas so I expect you to have the day off and relax.
Things are the same here in DevilDom as they were when you left. The brothers are up to no good as usual. To be completely honest with you, I still think back on that time you snapped at them. It was the most satisfying thing I witnessed in a while and I still look back to it with fondness as I do to the memory of you.
Lord Diavolo has been telling me about the Human Realm at the moment so I hope you’re keeping yourself safe. Otherwise, I would be forced to go up there and check up on you myself. Thinking about it, that sounds like a wonderful idea. Maybe I can convince Lord Diavolo to tag along too. It would be nice to see you again MC. Before we invite you back to DevilDom that is.
Forgive me if this letter seems rushed. I have many things to do around the castle as usual and many schemes I need to indulge my Lord in. However, I have been really impatient to write to you, especially considering the importance of the holiday seasons, so I’ve cramped my best of wishes in this letter you are reading right now. I would love to hear you reply soon.
Take care of yourself MC.
From Barbatos
—————————————
Sorry the formatting is so shït and that this is so long. I should have thought about writing this in a different way so it wouldn’t be such a pain to read. The point of it was to find your favourite character and read their letter to you. I can write one for Simeon, Luke and Solomon too if people want.
Al~
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movnts · 3 years ago
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𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞
[mason mount fluff]
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inspo from the beautiful @pettypartypooper: broke up years ago and both moved away, lost touch. now our friends each suggested a blind date and shit, you’re my date apparently
"this is the worst idea you've ever had," you grumbled as the taxi pulled up outside of your local italian restaurant, the soft amber hue from candlelight illuminating the concrete pavement outside. your best friend, grace, would simply shoot you an evil smirk as she clambered out of the passenger seat, pressing a twenty pound note into the taxi driver's palms before expressing her apologies for her best friend's grumbling all journey.
dating had never really been your scene. through mainly failed relationships and losing touch with those who you considered forever's you'd eventually given up on ever finding 'the one'. instead you wanted to enjoy your life; go out whenever you liked, party as hard as you wanted to and not have your mind one step behind because of a man. granted, there were night's when you wanted nothing more than to just curl into the side of someone but you couldn't bring yourself to trading your freedom for the occasional cuddle when night's were colder than you liked.
and without you knowing grace had arranged a blind date for the both of you, chatting your ear off whilst you'd gotten ready as she's rambled and rambled about how she hopes they're both as fit as they sounded, her eyebrows wiggling whenever it was brought up. you weren't exactly thrilled with her devious plan, a fair few curse words exchanged as she'd told you the night before over a cheap bottle of wine, hiding behind one of your cushions as you'd threatened to swirl your glass over her. you didn't want a relationship right now - especially with someone who you'd never seen, let alone met before.
the restaurant had a steady buzz of conversation: couple's going through a rocky part sobbing over their starters, newly promoted employees ordering another round of house champagne as they're erupt into a loud but respectful cheer. it was the kind of place that offered a sense of security, a place that felt like home.
"we don't even know who we're looking for!" you hissed, not wanting to draw too much attention to you both as she circled the tables. her eyes would be darting from person to person, a guessing game inside of her head as to whether it was the people we were meant to be meeting. your vision would follow hers as she pointed out a table stuffed in the corner, tucked away from the gentle hustle and bustle of the other customers - two lads sitting next to each other, their thought's worlds away as their fingers scrolled through their phones, obviously finding their interest in whatever was pixelated across their screens.
you hesitated, your body refusing your steps as you felt familiarity settle in the pits of your brain. you recognised that face.
"is that..." grace whispered, her back now facing the table as she followed your gaze, her eyes searched over your face for an ounce of emotion or something that could answer her open ended question.
"mason," you replied curtly, a spark of anger running sharply through your veins as grace crossed her arms across her chest. of course you knew she didn't have anything to do with this, that she wouldn't have known who the lads were either - but there was a thought nibbling away in the back of your mind, filling your head with dread as you struggled to keep yourself grounded in the moment.
you would never forget mason mount. your first serious boyfriend, he had taught you everything that you needed to know in order to survive in the world around you. it had been a passionate whirlwind romance; the dreaded three-words being shared between fits of laughter four weeks into the relationship, your belongings being packed into suitcases and drove to his as your romance would hit the two month mark.
before mason you never knew what love was - your warped definition gradually being erased as he showered you in nothing but affection. you were meant to last forever: both grow your wings and take off into the universe, hand-in-hand, never looking back. but you needed someone who was a constant presence in your life. and mason, at the time, couldn't offer you that.
"i didn't know you were back..." you greeted him with the absence of a 'hello' or 'how are you', taking a seat opposite him as grace's head bowed to the table, mason's friends mirroring her stance as they swallowed thickly.
mason didn't know where to look, eyebrows knitted in confusion as he tried to figure out if this was a wicked joke that someone had played on you both.
but you were real; restaurant was real; the blind-date was real.
the break-up had been cold and bitter, mason leaving with his things in badly packed bags and your heart still in his firm grasp. there were times where mason could smell the damp of the roads as he drove away that night, cheeks stained with tears as he wished you well. despite it being years since you last laid eyes on each other your heart would get a flutter of butterflies, cheeks tainted red as you felt yourself slip into the wide-eyed teenager that once fell in love.
"we were good together, weren't we?" his question was abrupt, leaving your stomach feeling as though you were about to go down the highest drop of a rollercoaster. and it was almost as if you both forgot that your friends were sat next to you, the tension between you being thick enough to slice with a knife.
"how much has changed?" you already knew the answer to your own question. his name was plastered across every sports channel and newspaper, photo's of him being shared around every corner of social media - your dry throat and hazed eyes always making you scroll on or look away. nobody knew you still had his old derby shirt still stuffed in the back of your wardrobe, your fingers never being strong enough to let it fall into the bin whenever you mentally prepared yourself to do so. you were more attached to the memories rather than mason himself: you were a happy, carefree teenager with a high-demanding relationship ideology.
and you didn't want to sit there and scream about how you both deserved to grow old together. that the timing was just sightly off; that it was weird because you both still thought of each other whenever a certain song crackled on the car radio.
you didn't want that.
"strangers?" mason had whispered, pinky finger pointed out towards you as his head nodded in the motion of your hand. your finger would wrap around his, his touch no longer feeling familiar as his skin was cold to your shaky touch. strangers.
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tomtenadia · 3 years ago
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Remember Us - part 6
Monday surprise!
As some of you might have read from my post from yesterday, I officially finished this fic and it will have 10 parts. this was the original plan and I am glad I kept it. The idea of having many more chapters of Rowan not recognising his family was far too painful.
Chapter 9 and 10 are so sweet that they will probably give you cavities, but I just thought they deserved the best happy ending.
Also, i got very attached to Thomas and he is a great fan of his parents.
Well, I hope you will enjoy this.
-------
Rowan had been staying at Lorcan’s while Aelin still kept her distance. It had been two weeks and they had been horrendous. She had blocked him off of her life. She was not answering his calls or texts and apparently had told Elide not to tell him anything about her. He was furious. They should be together and face such a tragic moment in their lives, together. But Aelin would not listen. He had tried everything to talk to her.
Someone knocked on the door and, since he was home alone, he went to open it.
On the other side he found Aelin. But the woman in front of him had a lifeless stare and deep shadows under her eyes. She was the ghost of his wife.
“Ro…” she said in a thin voice and then broke down in heavy sob.
Rowan didn’t even think. His arms pulled her at his chest and kissed her head. The sight of an Aelin so heartbroken was a shot to his heart.
“I am sorry.” She added, hiding her face in his chest and inhaling his scent that always gave her comfort.
“Shhh… I am here. I am never letting you go again, no matter how much you shout at me.” Another tender kiss “I am coming home and we’ll get through this.”
Rowan was in bed and staring at the ceiling after the dream woke him up. The Aelin from the dream was a shell compared to the version sleeping at his side. He turned his head and stared at her sleepy face and a deep part of him hoped she was fine. That the baby was fine. Because he knew for sure he didn’t want to see her again in the conditions she had been in the dream. Seeing Aelin in pain or sad hurt him.
He sighed and got off the bed and walked to the kitchen but once he got there he realised he had no idea where anything was. Aelin had said he would make pancakes but could not remember the day she had said. 
A splitting headache hit him and Rowan sat down on the sofa, head in his hands and then for a moment he felt disoriented and could not recognise his surroundings. Panic hit him. He looked up and saw a boy staring at him. He jumped up and almost fell.
“Dad.” The boy’s voice was almost tearful.
And as quickly as the moment of disorientation came, just as rapidly it went away and lucidity returned.
“Tom,” he ran to the boy and hugged him to console him as soon as he started crying. He had scared him “I am sorry I frightened you.” Thomas hugged his father and stopped crying and Rowan relaxed for an instant.
“Do you want pancakes?” He asked his son, still not letting him go.
“It’s not Saturday.” Said the boy, looking at his father in his eyes.
“Shhhh…” said Rowan with a finger against his mouth “You can have pancakes all the time.” He lifted the boy in his arms “but you need to tell me where everything is.”
Thomas grinned and pointed to the kitchen and once in there he started pointing at the doors and Rowan finally found a pan. Then he grabbed his phone and searched for a recipe, grabbed eggs and milk from the fridge and joined Thomas back at the counter who, in the meantime, had grabbed a chair and was kneeling on it so he could follow his dad.
“Will you be my assistant?” the boy nodded eagerly.
After ten minutes he was mixing the batter making sure it was smooth as the instructions recommended.
“Ok, Tom, are you ready for the first one?”
“Pancakes,” he shouted happily and Rowan smiled. He might remember a very few things about his son but he was definitely going to cherish that moment. It didn’t matter if it had been only a day. He was already in love with the two children. He just hoped he could become a good father to them once again.
*
Aelin woke up and found the bed empty and for a moment she thought it had been only a dream, but as she rolled over she noticed Rowan’s side was crumpled and gently caressed his pillow. He had always been an early riser and it seemed that some things had not changed.
She sat up, grabbed her fleece from the chair and left the bed looking for Rowan.
As she exited the bedroom she heard laughter coming from the kitchen and followed the sounds and once inside she could not believe the scene. Thomas was kneeling on a chair beside Rowan trying to cook something.
“Pancakes on a Wednesday?”
Thomas turned to her “shhh mum, it’s a secret.”
Aelin walked to her son and kissed his head “good morning, my love.”
“I am helping dad with pancakes. He doesn’t remember how to make them.”
Rowan flipped one and Thomas clapped “that is mine.” He grabbed a plate and placed the pancake on it “go and sit while I make more.”
Thomas climbed down the chair and walked to the table with his plate.
Aelin moved to Rowan’s side “did you sleep well?”
Her husband nodded and hesitated for a moment wether to tell her about his episode. Then he sighed and told her what had happened and Aelin looked at him with a doctor’s eye.
“A TBI can have such effects. It can cause moments of disorientation in which the person doesn’t know where he is. It can also affect short term memory, making it difficult to learn new things or even remember things you just did.” She placed a few more pancakes in Thomas’ plate “but there are ways to help you. We can do lists, have notepads and clipboards in the house. Have a note book and note down things.” She explained going back at his side “long term memory is stored already in your brain,” and playfully patted his head “you actually haven’t lost them. They are still all there. It’s just your brain has to sort through them again. It’s very complicated and technical, but they will come back. Short term memory is another issue. Do you still feel confused?”
Rowan shook his head and passed Aelin a plate with pancakes and then grabbed the jar of Nutella “go and scoff your breakfast.”
Aelin grinned “see? You remembered I take them with Nutella.”
In that instant they heard a cry and Aelin realised Freyja had woken up. She was about to stand when Rowan stopped her “Eat,” he commanded and again she had a glimpse of past Rowan. The one who would made sure she ate.
A moment later he came back with his daughter in his arms “I think our princess wants to join the breakfast club as well.” Freyja threw her chubby arms around his neck, snuggling close to him “what does she eat?”
Aelin went to the fridge and grabbed one of her pressed meals and Rowan began feeding his daughter.
It was an hour later when Aelin was ready for work “mum should be back very soon and I am taking Thomas to the nursery. Will you be okay with Freyja for half an hour tops? I changed her and she is fed, it should be easy.”
Rowan lifted the little girl in his arms “we should be fine.” And gave her his best reassuring smile.
“You call me if you have any problems.”
Thomas went to hug his dad before following Aelin out of the door.
Once he was alone with his daughter he stood, with her still in his arms and hobbled around the living room and stared at their impressive bookcase. Freyja leaned forward and with her hands tried to grab a book “ ‘tory” she babbled.
“Do you want me to read you a story?” He asked her and the girl green eyes were fixed on him and then she nodded.
He placed her down on the carpet and turned to the library in search of a storybook for her.
“I think I— ” he turned with a book in his hands and froze. Freyja was gone. Shit.
“Freyja.” He called her, panic rising in his voice. She couldn’t have gone far. How fast could a 18 months toddler go? He took his cane and started looking around the house “Freyja?”
In that instant Evalin came back and he breathed in relief.
“Rowan, are you okay?”
He was the worst father ever “I lost Freyja. I was looking for a storybook and when I turned she was gone.” He was preparing himself from some lashing from his mother in law but the woman burst into laughter.
“She does that. Thomas has been teaching her how to play hide and seek,” the woman explained calmly walking around the house and then going to the girl’s bedroom. Rowan followed her.
Evalin lifted the blanket from the side of the bed and pointed at under her bed.
Rowan heard a faint giggle.
“I wonder where my girl is.” Said Evalin keeping up the pretence. She opened the wardrobe “no, she is not here.” Rowan observed her and then joined in “she is not in the toy box either.”
Evalin placed her hands on her hips and grinned at Rowan then crouched down “here you are.”
The little girl screamed in delight as her grandma caught her.
The three of  them went back to the living room and Evalin passed Freyja back to Rowan and went to unpack her shopping bags.
“Do you need a hand?” He offered.
“No, it’s just fruits and veggies and a few more things. I love to go down at the market in the morning and buy fresh ingredients.” She told him, “you love to go too on your day off, wake up early and also go to the fish market and get the first catch.”
Rowan sat on a chair at the big table with his daughter in his arms.
“Aelin can cook, but you are the chef of the family.”
He smiled back and gently bounced Freyja on his knee and she giggled.
“How does it feel being back home?” She asked her son in law while stashing away the groceries.
Rowan sighed “it feels good and strange at the same time.” It was hard to explain how he felt without sounding like a lunatic “Some things are starting to feel familiar. But others feel totally new and others scare me.” He confessed but the woman in front of him looked at him with tenderness “the kids for example, I feel like I love them madly already but it pains me that the memories with them are still fuzzy. I want to give them back their father.”
“And Aelin?”
Rowan sighed “I think I feel something for her. I would not call it love yet. But yesterday we kissed and it felt like the most normal thing ever.”
Evalin smiled.
“But my memories are a jumble in my head right now. I have them, they are there and I found that being at home is triggering more and more of them. I want to do this. I want us to be a family again.” He grabbed his phone and showed her the photo on his home screen. The one on the beach, all of them smiling and happy. “I want this again. I just don’t know how to get there.”
“Rowan,” Evalin walked to him once done with the groceries and sat at his side “you have been awake for a month and at home for two days.” She patted his knee “both Aelin and I think that being home will help trigger more of your memories. Look through photo albums.” She stood and opened a cabinet and took out a box which once opened he discovered it contained a lot of photo albums. “Digital is good, but you and Aelin both love to print out the photos and make scrapbooks.” She rummaged in the box for a moment and then passed him an album “start with this.”
Rowan took it and it noticed it was their wedding album “Her friend Chaol took all the photos and then Aelin made a scrapbook and added notes and comments on it. She said she did not want the usual boring wedding album.”
He opened the first page and in big colourful letter and nice calligraphy it said Buzzard & Fireheart: the beginning of an epic tale.
The second page it had a picture of the two of them in an armour, back to back and swords drawn.
“You two hired some costumes for that photo.”
Rowan laughed and kept on flipping through the photo album. It was organised like a story, with small narrating paragraphs near the photos and he read each one of them.
“You two got married on a beach, then had a gigantic barbecue for all your friends and then when night came you lit a bonfire and had your first dance as husband and wife in front of the fire. Both of you barefoot.”
Rowan smiled “it sounds like fun.”
“It was a great day.” She bounced Freyja on her lap “all the albums tell a story. You did all of them like that so when looking back you could also remember more of those moments.”
Rowan reached the page where they were standing in front of Aedion, who officiated the wedding, and he stared at Aelin. Her light blue dress was gorgeous, but he was stuck on her smile. In the photo he was looking at she has the brightest of smiles and he realised that falling for her would be so easy. She was caring, brilliant, funny and sarcastic. She had passion. She had fire.
She was his Fireheart.
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spencers-renaissance · 4 years ago
Text
I found my way home
Summary: After Spencer tells Hotch about his recent autism diagnosis, he expects that to be the end of it. Somehow, though, it keeps coming up, and Hotch keeps proving himself to be the best father figure he could have asked for. 
Tags: autistic spencer, protective hotch, hurt/comfort, fluff, paternal hotch, team as family
TW: mentions of ableism, one small instance of ableism & homophobia 
Pairing: Gen 
Word Count: 4.1k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
This was borne from my conversations with @criminalmindsvibez about the lack of autistic spencer fics and her amazing headcanons. While I'm not autistic, Emily is, and helped me to portray Spencer's autism as accurately as possible. That said, please feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong :)
Spencer had made an effort to get into work even earlier than usual today. He’d ridden the metro through the city, dipping his hand into his messenger bag every few minutes to compulsively check that the slim letter he’d received in the post the other day is still in the front pocket where he’d safely placed it that morning. He brushes his fingers over the paper once more as he enters the near-empty bullpen, the letter cool from the winter air.
It’s still so surreal to him that this is where he works. After years of dreaming of working for the FBI he’s finally here, and even though it’s been his place of work for almost two months now, he’s still not used to it. The warm offices are a nice reprieve from the wintry December wind, and he can feel himself relaxing as he heads to his desk. Leaving his coat and messenger bag on his chair, he pulls the letter out of the front pocket and runs his index finger along the edge. He finds himself biting his bottom lip as he tries to work up the courage to go and see Hotch. 
Sucking in a deep breath, he marches determinedly up to Hotch’s office, entering as soon as his knocks are answered. 
“Reid,” Hotch says pleasantly as he takes a seat opposite his desk, realising belatedly that he probably should have waited until he was invited. “You’re in early. What can I do for you?”
Nervously, Spencer hands him the letter he’d couriered across the city so carefully. He’d taken care to open it neatly with his letter opener but the return address on the back has been stamped at a crooked angle, and it bothers him every time he notices it. He can’t stop looking at it now as he taps his fingers anxiously against his leg in the pattern of the Fibonacci sequence, a safe and familiar reassurance played out by his nervous fingers. He watches apprehensively as Hotch pulls the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and skimming his eyes down the page, taking in the news Spencer’s been so anxious to share with him.
Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome
God, it had been a long process. He’d had to seek out a doctor in DC who diagnosed adults, paid for all the consultations and diagnostics himself — his insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, not that he’d feel comfortable using his cushy FBI insurance for something so personal anyway — and the whole process had taken far longer than he’d expected. Finally, though, the envelope had arrived in the mail, and he officially had a diagnosis. 
Of course, he’d had his suspicions for years, especially after one of his professors during his second PhD had casually asked whether he’d ever been tested, planting a seed in his brain that led to many late nights in the library, reading all the literature available to him. It’s why he’d found it strange that it had felt so validating to finally receive that letter in the post. But it had.
The label made sense, and now that he had a diagnosis from a medical professional he felt comfortable to share it with others; he’d been far too paranoid about being questioned, not being believed or lectured about the evils of self-diagnosis no matter how he was confident in himself. He didn’t tend to be an insecure or self-conscious person, but after years of bullying and trauma surrounding what he now knew for sure to be his autistic traits, he couldn’t help but feel almost protective of his affirming label. 
Now though, it’s an irrefutable statement. Dr Spencer Reid has autism, and the first person he wants to tell is Hotch.
“I had no idea you were getting tested, Reid,” Hotch says, a hint of surprise bleeding into his voice. “Is there any specific reason you wanted to share this with me?”
“Well… I felt like someone on the team should know,” Spencer starts carefully, afraid to give too much of himself away, “and I thought that someone in a leadership position was the best option. Gideon has never been very… supportive of my autistic traits or behaviour, so I thought that you— that you would be the best option.” He feels awkward, fidgeting in his chair as he watches Hotch’s serious face and kind eyes absorb the information. 
“That trust in me means a lot, Reid,” he says, a rare smile making its way onto his face. In that moment, Spencer knows he made the right decision. “How can I make things easier for you? Is there anything you need me to be doing differently?”
“Uh—” He hadn’t really been anticipating that question and it catches him off guard: he’d predicted a quick nod of acknowledgement, a request to photocopy the letter so it can be put on file followed by a swift dismissal, but the letter is now sitting on his side of the desk: clearly, Hotch intends on keeping this between them. This is far from what he expected.
“Why don’t you start by telling me about autism and how it might affect your work?” Hotch corrects himself, recognising quickly Spencer’s need for specifics. “I’ll admit I don’t know much beyond some probably rather unhelpful stereotypes.”
Spencer nods. He can answer that question. “As everyone knows I often go off on tangents,” he begins, “and that’s because my special interests — or hyperfixations — often coincide with our work, so I know a lot about the topics we’re investigating. If I do that, just redirect me to the case and I’ll be fine. It’s also really hard for me to have to present myself in a certain way all the time. Vocal stims and gestures are the most satisfying to me but I often have to mask them, which I’ve never been very good at anyway, and it’s fairly exhausting. That’s why I often excuse myself; I go to the bathroom or a secluded hallway and stim on my own. My doctor also told me I tend to overcompensate in social situations and over-perform emotion. Those are the basics, I guess, but it’s a very complex disorder and since it makes up me as a human being, I can’t exactly explain all of it in one conversation.”
“No, that’s fine, Reid, you’ve given me a good picture of what to expect, thank you.” Hotch smiles at him, fondness in the crinkles around his eyes and the softness invading his usually stern expression. “First of all, you never have to feel like you need to excuse yourself to stim. Do you think it would be helpful if we told the rest of the team so they know what to expect? I’m assuming vocal stims are saying certain words or making sounds…?”
Spencer nods. 
“Okay, so if you needed to do that we could just continue the conversation while you get it out of your system. Gestures certainly wouldn’t be a problem. How do you feel about that?”
He hadn’t really considered telling the rest of the team but it seemed sort of intimidating, like he’d be opening a vulnerable side of himself to people he didn’t even know that well. On the other hand, they’d all been so understanding of his quirks and odd behaviour so far without even knowing the reason behind it. He’d never once been made to feel the way he used to at school, forced to either pretend to be someone else completely or be isolated and ostracised. 
He settles for, “I’ll think about it.” 
“That’s fine. There’s no pressure,” Hotch assures him. “I’m very happy you told me, Reid. I hope you know you can come and talk to me about anything, whether it’s about this or something completely different.”
Spencer leaves his office with the letter back in his hands, no notes or copies having been made, feeling almost elated. Never in a million years would he have expected that to go so well. 
⭐️
He doesn’t really expect it to come up again. He’d told Hotch so that he could understand him a bit better, and also because Hotch had quickly assumed a protective, almost paternal role in his life and he wanted to share the piece of news with him whether he was leading his department or not. That was supposed to be it, though, he didn't think anything would materially change, especially since he decided not to tell the team about the diagnosis just yet.
But almost immediately after he’d told Hotch his diagnosis, his rambles began to be gently redirected back to the case, sometimes without him even noticing. He wasn’t rudely cut off by anyone anymore, Hotch always steering him back on course before anyone else can jump in and hurt Spencer’s feelings. It’s so… kind that it almost feels foreign, and he finds himself gravitating towards the older man more and more, sitting next to him on every jet journey and staying glued to his side during cases. 
His newfound protectiveness over Spencer is only demonstrated more clearly a few months after their conversation in Hotch’s office when they’re on their way to New Mexico for a case. The second he spots that the murder victims had all been found with different Fitzgerald quotes scrawled on sheets of paper found in their own personal notebooks, ripped out and left for investigating officers to find, he launches into an info-dump to rival info-dumps. 
He can’t help that literature is a special interest of his, made all the more intense by the fond childhood memories of reading to his mother in her bed. Fitzgerald had been her favourite author of the Modern Era, and he’d spent hours analysing significant passages in his novels as a child, so he starts explaining the literary merit of each of the quotes left at the crime scenes. 
Apparently, he doesn’t hear the first two times Hotch tries to direct him back on topic, but he hears it when Gideon shouts, “Spencer! Long and unnecessary tangents are not conducive to actually solving these cases. Get back on topic. Now.” He’s loud enough to briefly knock him back several decades to memories of his father screaming at his mother’s schizophrenic babbling, when she’d become convinced that the villains of her favourite novels were trying to break into the house.
Spencer stops mid-sentence and stares at Gideon, who is staring right back. Everyone’s watching the two awkwardly, but the short moment of silence is quickly broken by Hotch. “There is absolutely no need to be that rude, Jason,” he says disapprovingly, while he lays a hand on Spencer’s arm in a light, absent-minded sort of touch. “Reid may have been off-topic but he deserves respect just like everyone else on this team. Nobody needs to be shouted at like that.” He directs his attention back to Spencer. “Why don’t you tell us how those Fitzgerald quotes could help us solve the case, Reid?” 
He gives him an encouraging look, and when he looks around the jet, everyone else is, too. Carefully, he starts speaking again, a little afraid of being cut off again, but after a few sentences of relevant explanation he regains his momentum. It’s more than a little vindicating when it’s his ‘unnecessary tangent’ that ends up being the key to cracking the case. 
⭐️
Soon after Hotch’s split from Haley, he approaches Spencer one evening when they’re the only two left at the office with a dinner invitation. Within the hour, they walk into a nice, low-key Italian place in the city and take a seat in the far corner of the restaurant. 
“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks a little uncertainly, confused as to why his boss is suddenly taking him for dinner. 
“I had this idea almost as soon as you told me about your autism,” Hotch explains, knowing by now that preambles and niceties only frustrate Spencer instead of setting him at ease. “I wanted to take you out for dinner every week to try and give you a space to ramble about all your special interests and not feel like you have to mask around everyone. But when I was with Haley, all my personal time was obviously spent with her and Jack. Now, I have the time to dedicate to you and all the incredible knowledge you’re hoarding in that brain of yours.”
“Really?” Spencer asks excitedly. The idea of uninhibited space to talk about the recent knowledge he’s acquired and not have to feel insecure or worry about performing social skills he doesn’t see the point of is everything he’s ever wished for, and something so wonderful being provided by Hotch only makes it better. 
“Really.”
Spencer wastes no time. He dives right in. “I was just watching a documentary the other day about volcanoes and their ability to trigger lightning storms with their voltage,” he begins. “Basically, magma rises toward the volcano’s surface, its water rapidly turns to vapor, which shatters the molten rock into tiny particles and creates charged particles. When the ash plume erupts into the atmosphere, the densely packed particles collide, driven by momentum. Friction then affects their electrons, becoming electrically charged. Positively and negatively charged electrons separate in the ash plume which creates a charge imbalance that builds an electric charge strong enough to trigger a lightning storm.” 
“That’s incredible.”
“I know,” Spencer says excitedly. “If the ash plume rises high enough in the atmosphere ice forms, and when ice, hail, and supercooled liquid droplets collide, the rates of lightning explode, it’s crazy.”
They’re briefly interrupted by a waitress taking their orders, but as soon as she leaves, Hotch gets him to jump back in. “What about that lecture you attended last week… the literature of 18th Century England or something?”
“19th Century English Lit, yeah!” He’s so eager to finally share this with somebody who will genuinely listen to him, and he can’t help it when his arms start to flap excitedly. Remembering where he is, he doesn’t try to mask it, pin his arms to his sides and simply deal with and suppress the innate urge to stim, he lets his body do what it wants to. Instead of eliciting a strange, sideways look, Hotch just smiles fondly.  
“The lecturer had this fascinating theory on Dickens. I’ve always seen him as a pretty straight forward author of picaresque fiction, obviously combined with facets of melodrama. And it’s common knowledge that he was inspired by the novel of sensibility, of course. But I’d never thought about the stylistic and lexical choices in his works beyond standard analysis, and this lecturer went on a deep dive into his use of collocation and it opened my eyes…”
He spends the whole evening stimming to his heart’s content while detailing every current interest of his to Hotch, who simply listened intently while eating his meal slowly, dragging out the meal for as long as Spencer needed. “Let me give you a lift home,” Hotch insists after footing the bill, leading him out into the warm evening air.
“Oh, I don’t mind taking the metro,” he replies truthfully. 
“I know. But it would make me feel better to drop you home safely. It’s late and seeing you into your apartment building would give me peace of mind.”
“Sure,” Spencer agrees happily, he’s still buzzing from such a nice evening and the least he can do for Hotch is let him rest easy tonight, so he climbs into the passenger side of his car. A few minutes into the car ride home, he realises he should probably actually verbalise just how much he enjoyed dinner. “Thank you, Hotch. I don’t think anybody’s ever done something so nice for me before.”
“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” Hotch replies, smiling even though he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Spencer very much likes it when Hotch uses his first name, and he’d been doing it all evening. He doesn’t really understand why it feels so nice, just that it makes him feel… special, maybe.
“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he repeats, before freezing as he realises what he’s said. He’s got so used to not masking all evening, he’s not in the right rhythm and mindset to suppress the urge to repeat Hotch’s words. He’s been so nice the whole evening, the last thing Spencer wants is for Hotch to think he’s mocking him. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” Hotch reassures him, tapping his arm lightly as he smiles encouragingly. 
“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he says again, repeating it a few times in relief before the itch is satisfied. He really does have the best boss/friend in the whole world. There’s no doubt about that. 
⭐️
Rossi’s initial reaction to Spencer had admittedly been a bit rocky, and having Hotch undeniably on his side was the only thing that made those first few months bearable. He never let them go off on their own; never put Spencer in a position where he’d have to be alone with him. Gradually, though, Rossi adjusted to his quirks and he became almost as protective of Spencer as Hotch.
That doesn’t bode well for the local sheriff when they’re on a case in North Carolina. He’s been prickly since they arrived, being as stubborn and uncooperative as possible, slowing down their progress on actually solving the case, and Spencer’s noticed him being a little extra rude to him in particular. It doesn’t massively bother him — it’s not exactly like someone’s aversion to him is a novel concept — but he can feel some sort of tension coming from the others. It happens a lot more now that they know about his autism and are more aware of themselves and others.
He tries to ignore it the best he can; he puts his head down and focuses on the geographical profile, going wherever he’s sent. Besides, the sooner they solve this case the sooner they can get out of North Carolina and back to DC. On their third day on the case, he’s working quietly in their designated corner of the police department alongside Hotch and Rossi while the others are out investigating in various different places. It’s a nice environment, and even though both men are his superiors, he feels more relaxed in their company than in anybody else’s.
It’s a relatively pleasant morning — considering the whole trying to catch a brutal serial killer thing — until they need to ask the sheriff a question. He saunters over, a tense and angry expression on his face, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little off, the confusing tension in the air that Spencer can’t quite identify making him anxious in his inability to properly decipher it. “Gentlemen,” he says, already frustrated. Spencer suspects it’s a pride thing; not many police departments like being shown up enough to have the FBI called in.
Eager to know the answer to their question, Spencer’s the one to jump in and ask. “Sheriff, we were just wondering whether the town gets much traffic from the local university or—”
He’s cut off by the sneering, towering man. “I’m not taking any questions from your kind,” he says aggressively. 
“I’m sorry?” Spencer squeaks as Rossi and Hotch both prepare to say something in response.
The sheriff cuts them off before they can get their likely diplomatic and calming words out. “Homo retards aren’t welcome around here.”
“Hey!” Rossi shouts as he leaps out of the chair, grabbing him by the collar as he’s helped by the element of surprise. “You don’t fucking talk to Spencer like that, you hear me? Weak, cowardly men like you—”
“Dave,” Hotch says placatingly, putting a hand on his shoulder and diffusing the situation. “Listen, Sheriff, we are only here to help you. But if you can’t respect my agents then we’re going to have a problem. Either you’re civil to Dr Reid, or I’m reporting you to the NC Sheriff’s Association. You hear me?”
The sheriff’s pride is clearly wounded, but he at least nods before giving them all a scornful look and walking away. 
“We didn’t even get to ask the question,” Spencer says anxiously, suddenly feeling out of his depth, like he can’t quite get enough air. 
“Dave, try and get an answer,” Hotch directs, taking charge of the situation. “Spencer, come with me.” He takes him into a secluded hallway for a little privacy, sitting him down on the cool linoleum before sinking down next to him. “You’re okay.”
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Spencer whispers over and over to himself as he rocks backwards and forwards, trying desperately to self-soothe.
“Do you want me to touch you?” Hotch asks. He’s been in enough of these situations with Spencer to know he’s usually in two very different headspaces: he either longingly craves the grounding touch of a hug or a hand on his back, or he needs complete space. He’s also learned that asking outright is the only way to get an direct answer. 
“Yes,” Spencer replies, before repeating it over and over again as he’s wrapped up in Hotch’s arms, head pressed against his chest, his hand pressing gently against the back of Spencer’s head. He starts to calm down as he manages to breathe to the heat of Hotch’s calm, steady heartbeat, the comforting touch of someone he trusts with his life also helping to bring him back down to earth. A good ten minutes after the altercation with the sheriff, he’s feeling much better and brings his head out of it’s safe cocoon between Hotch’s chest and hand. 
“Come on,” Hotch says kindly. “Let’s get back to the case, yeah? You can just sit and work quietly until you’re ready to hold a proper conversation again. How does that sound?”
Spencer nods tiredly, knowing that work will perk him back up again, and being surrounded by his team will make him feel safe, asshole sheriff or not.
⭐️
Over the years Hotch helps him through any hurdles that come his way, learning the exact nuances of Spencer’s characteristics and requirements, making sure to accommodate him in every way possible.
He brings an extra, super-soft sweater in his go-bag in case Spencer ever forgets his and needs something gentle on his skin but tight enough to make him feel secure. He buys him stimming toys, dropping them on Spencer’s desk before he even arrives at work and lets him use his office whenever the lights and noise of the bullpen get too much, drawing the blinds and giving him the space he needs. Rossi doesn’t even question it anymore when Hotch shows up with a stack of paperwork and moves into his office for the morning. 
It wasn’t until Hotch made a concerted effort to make his life easier that Spencer realised how hard it had been fighting through life on his own. So when he realises Hotch’s birthday is coming up, he decides he wants to show his gratitude. It’s never been easy for him to express emotions, especially since he’s never really found it rude when people don’t thank him, but he knows that for most neurotypical people, appreciation is important. 
So he talks it over with Derek and on Hotch’s birthday, he comes into work to see Spencer waiting in his office with balloons, a cake, a card, and a present. He’d spent hours trying to find the right words to explain how he feels, to find the right words to show Hotch just how much everything he’s done for him means, but eventually he’d settled on something simple:
Caroline B Cooney wrote: “I found my family. I found the right thing to do. I found my way home.” 
I found all of these things when I joined the BAU, but more specifically when I walked into your office, hands shaking, clasping a letter I’d been waiting for all my life. Thank you. 
Hotch reads it with tears in his eyes before taking in the cake, a classic birthday cake Spencer had bought at the store, the words “Happy Birthday Dad” written in blue icing. He didn’t really understand why the cake had stood out to him, or why he associated the word ‘dad’ with someone who wasn’t related to him at all, but he’d trusted his gut and with Derek’s cheerleading, he’d bought it. 
“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says tearfully. “Can I hug you?”
Feeling only mildly uncomfortable at the visible display of emotion Spencer doesn’t know what to do with, he nods and steps into Hotch’s comforting embrace. “This means the world to me,” Hotch murmurs quietly as he stands, hugging Spencer for as long as the younger man can stand it. 
Spencer’s still not completely sure why he’s managed to make him so emotional, but at least he can trust that it’s a good thing, that Hotch is happy and pleased and reassured. And if he can make him feel even a smidgen as happy as Hotch has made Spencer over the years, well. He’ll consider his long and boring trip into the city to buy the cake, present and card worth it.
Quick Note: Spencer is diagnosed with Asperger’s because that part of the fic is set in 2005. These days he would be diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)
taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii
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