#and you can research a book and it’s warnings more easily now

[humanpurposes]

Hi hiiii I couldn’t resist to not slide into your inbox and request a Christmas fic based on this prompt with a Aemond who isn’t used to his girl’s flirty behavior and gets flustered soo easily👀 you can totally ignore this if you don’t like it<3333

“Since I can’t ride in Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?” “Sorry, what?”

HI RUE ✨ Kinda put my own spin on this but I'm sure you'll love it <3

Can I Ride You Instead?

modern!Aemond x reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, Aemond being a workaholic while his girl has needs

A/n: It's tiiiiime, happy 1st December!!

Main Masterlist // Christmas Masterlist

One more night in King’s Landing. You look out from the window at the lights in the city; street lamps; lively pubs; offices that have been abandoned until new year; and all the festive lights lining the highstreets. Conquest Street is your favourite place to be this time of year. You love the displays in the shop windows, the market in the square, the little wooden huts selling scarves and handmade jewellery, the smell of mulled wine, sugar and cinnamon, almost tangible in your nose and on your tongue. What you wouldn’t give to be there right now.

Aemond’s apartment is bleak by comparison. He doesn’t see the point in decorations, not when he’ll be spending Christmas at his family’s estate– at Dragonstone, Christmas is Alicent’s territory. Aemond’s place is clean, lit by lowlights with no bursts of colour or fairy lights and no tree.

He’s sitting at the dining table. The cold glare of his laptop shines over his face and reflects in the lenses of his glasses.

This boy never takes a break.

Term technically doesn’t end until tomorrow but everyone you know has already gone home to make the most of the break. Not Aemond. He wants to stay for as long as possible. He doesn’t talk about his family much, but you can put pieces together. You booked your own train ticket home according to his because you could think of nothing worse than leaving him alone on the run up to Christmas.

“Sit down, you’re making me anxious,” Aemond says, not looking up from the screen.

He’s been on the verge of irritation all day. You’re in the kitchen trying to make hot chocolate? Too much noise, he says. You’re at the dining table wrapping presents for your parents? Too distracting.

You take slow steps across the floor, behind his chair, draping yourself over his shoulders. He’s working on some project for an internship and simultaneously trying to get ahead on the research for his dissertation.

You love how he looks when he’s focused, the frown that means he’s utterly absorbed in what he’s doing. It’s not quite so endearing when he could be focusing on you instead.

Your arms wrap around him. He pushes his glasses up and puts a hand over yours, a featherlight touch. You want more.

“It’s getting late you say,” letting your lips ghost over his temple.

“It’s not even six.”

“You should take a break. We could order food?”

“Yeah, when I’m done with this, I just need to–”

“Aemond.”

Your arms fall away from him and he looks up at you with a slow breath. His expression is soft, his eyes slightly hooded, his lips fallen. He knows he's upset you.

“Aemond, it’s our last night together before Christmas.”

He shuts the lid of his laptop and leaves his glasses on the table. As much as you love how he looks with them on, there’s something about the unobstructed view of his face that never fails to take your breath away. Especially his eyes, one blue, one glass and made to imitate a sapphire, framed in a neat scar running down the left side of his face, an injustice of childhood.

He leans forward, snaking his hands to your waist, pulling you in towards him. 

It’s an unfair move really. Suddenly all you want to do is run your fingers through his silver hair, tilt his chin up, hold his face in your hands.

“You’re right, darling,” he says, stroking his thumbs in circles where they fall against your belly. You feel the pressure of it through the knit jumper you wear. “Let’s go out. Pub? Restaurant? What’s the market thing on Conquest Street, didn’t you mention that a while ago?”

“It’s a bit late to go out now, I’d have to get ready.”

“We’ll stay in and watch a Christmas movie then, yeah?”

“I didn’t think you’d be in the mood for something festive.”

He makes a quick face. Not that long ago you’d tried to get him to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol, and he was far from impressed. What horrors will you have in store for him next? “Whatever you want. I want whatever you want.”

You coax him to the sofa, big and plush and expensive. Aemond throws a blanket over the two of you and with a few taps of his phone arranges the food. Without much deliberation you put on Love Actually, meeting Aemond’s eye with a wide grin.

He hides his face in his hands but survives the ordeal.

By the time the credits are rolling it’s not particularly late, but you’re dreading the morning. You’ll have to wake up early, pack a bag, then you and Aemond will go to the train station together and go your separate ways until the new year. A whole two weeks apart.

You cozy up to him, breathe in the smell of his aftershave.

“What now, another film?” He asks, trying to find the remote.

Another idea pops into your head. “We could do something else?”

Aemond catches your eye, trying not to smile. “Now let me think, what else could we possibly do, hmm?” He’s awful at playing coy and has been since the moment you met him. He’s too observant, too intent on the details to play dumb.

“Well,” you say, tracing fingertips along the material of his sweats, over his thigh, “since it is the season, and I can’t ride Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?”

His mouth bursts into a messy smile. “Sorry, what?”

You mean to huff out of annoyance but it comes out like a laugh. “I’m trying to be cute!”

Aemond takes your chin in his fingers and your body freezes. “You really don’t need to try,” he says, and leans in to capture your lips with his.

The way Aemond kisses makes you melt every time. He’s slow and commanding, like he’s savouring every precious moment. His hands slide underneath your jumper, dragging along your skin to hold your waist. The promise of what will come next puts you on edge.

Sparse gasps for breath hum in the back of your throat. Aemond smiles against your lips and holds you tighter, dragging you to straddle his lap. He pulls away from your mouth, to your frustration, and places a wide palm at your navel, the waist of your jeans. “Stand up, need to get these off.”

You move off him and go to undo the top button, but Aemond grabs your wrists and pulls you closer. You watch as he smiles slightly, his fingers moving to undo the button and the zip. He’s teasing you, drawing out the anticipation as much as he can. 

You sigh in relief once they’re off, dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside and coming back to straddle Aemond. 

His hands settle at your thighs. “Look at you, so eager, hmm?”

“You can’t blame me, you’ve been ignoring me all day,” you say, grinding your clothed core against the bulge in his sweats. You can be teasing too, with drawn out movements of your hips.

Aemond’s jaw tightens. You can see he’s trying to stay smug. “Well, we’re fixing that now.”

You press a kiss to his cheek while your fingertips curl at the top of his sweats, dragging them down enough to free his cock. He’s taught you what he likes and if you were feeling patient you might have come to your knees before him, but at the slightest touch of Aemond’s fingertips against the fabric over your clit, you know what you need.

He pulls your panties to the side, dragging you along his leaking cock with a hand at your lower back. He’s hard and you’re achingly wet. He holds you where he wants you, lining himself up to pull you down onto his length. The stretch is sharp and sweet, hollowing you out and filling you perfectly. 

Aemond’s head falls against the back of the sofa as you sink down.

“Does it feel good?” you tease him.

He’s breathless, helplessly watching the space where your bodies meet. “Fuck, perfect little pussy– feels so good,”

You cradle your arms around his head as you ride him, unhurried, hands restless as you feel his hair and the sides of his face, along his jaw.

Aemond hardly has to do anything, as soon as his fingertips are on your clit you feel your spine straighten and something inside you tighten. He circles over you lazily, watching your face with a soft, admiring kind of amusement. 

“Right there,” you whisper, “don’t fucking stop.”

“Are you gonna come for me, darling?”

Your thighs are burning at the effort but you don’t care. You’re so close, so close.

“Beg me,” Aemond murmurs.

A slew of slurred and breathless pleas fall from your lips. You can feel the slickness between your legs, how easily he glides over you, how deep his cock reaches inside of you, pushing against the right spot.

Aemond hums as he grabs your hips with his free hand, fucking you faster and harder until you’re falling apart, convulsing, melting. 

You fall against Aemond, holding each other closer as you wait for the deliriousness to fade away. Suddenly the air is unbearably cold. You cling to Aemond, to his warmth, content in his arms.

“Happy with your ride?” Aemond asks. You can hear him grinning.

You lift your head and rest it against his shoulder. The light of the TV catches in his features, his jaw, his cheeks, his nose, the details of grey in his right eye and the unnatural bright blue of his left.

“Can I go again?”

Aemond leans into you, pressing his nose against yours. “You can ride me as many times as you want, darling.”

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[accidentcache]

stereo hearts

feat: 3rd year katsuki bakugou

warnings: language. twinge of angst. 4k read, not beta/proofread. medical talk that was loosely researched.

cache notes: reader has quirk, kind of ooc! if that’s not ur thing then don’t read idk. got a sudden burst of motivation and decided to finish this <3

m.list

your third year at UA was nothing special. nothing compared to the first two years, and since the whole war situation, things are still getting back to normal in the only ways it can.

the case with your hero costume is comfortable. you can carry it with one hand, swing it at your side as you walk. it smacks against your thighs as you make your way down the hall, smiling in greeting to your classmates.

"hey," katsuki's voice is rough as he calls out when you walk past him. he's leaning against the lockers with kirishima, but he steps out a bit to catch your elbow before you make it past him.

katsuki's eyes have softened over time. when you first met him over two years ago, his gaze burned and you compared the color to a layer of hell fairly often due to his brash nature. here lately they're more akin to a soft campfire glow-- still burning, but more gentle and contained.

"where ya goin' with that?" his gaze shifts downward to the case swinging at your side.

"support lab," your eyebrow lifts and your free hand adjusts the strap of your book bag over your shoulder. "the last upgrade didn't work as well as i thought. i wanna see if they've got anything else to try."

a scoff leaves the blonde's lips, his eyes rolling in mock annoyance. he can't bring himself to fully be annoyed, however. not when it's you. "you've been saying that for weeks now," his hand loosens on your elbow but the gentle pressure of his fingertips on your skin keeps you stationary. "how many more 'upgrades' before you realize it's perfect the way it is?"

"the mask messes with my vision," you protest gently, shifting on your feet beside him. kirishima looks amused, but he's more focused on the screen on his phone than to join in the conversation. "and i need better chest protection, the mesh burned too easily from the gas last training session--"

you're interrupted by katsuki sighing loudly. he reaches up and takes your chin between his fingers-- the touch is gentle and it feels like he's treating you like glass. like you would break if he put any pressure on you.

your breathing stutters at the contact, not that katsuki notices. you two are close, you always have been since your first year. affection like this was the norm between the two of you.

"you worry too much," his voice is low, the slightest edge of scolding laced in. "quit stressing over it."

"i'm trying to prevent my quirk from killing me, katsuki."

it's a touchy subject. you can tell from the way kirishima stiffens just off to the side from you and katsuki, how katsuki himself looks away and retracts his hand from your skin. no one likes to talk about it.

"right," katsuki mutters under his breath, his voice strained. "damn lethal quirk of yours."

his eyes don't meet yours for a couple beats of silence. it always ends up like this when your quirk is brought up here lately. katsuki worries about you, just like you worry about him-- neither of you want to admit it out loud. where katsuki had softened over time, you had hardened.

"i have to find better chest protection for the pacemaker for my heart," your eyes roll. your hand swats at his arm in the gentlest way you could manage. "do we want a repeat of the training camp incident?"

katsuki flinches from the swat and stiffens almost immediately. his jaw is tense and something flashes in his eyes the moment the statement leaves your mouth.

in the back of your head, you hate how katsuki pushes you away when the subject is brought up. he holds you at arms length here lately, never pushing any further, never holding you any closer. if anything, your friendship with him had become stagnant in the past year and a half.

katsuki hates talking about his injuries, you hate talking about yours. both of you are stubborn in the same way. one day he's there, physically in front of you and you can feel his touch against sensitive skin-- the next you can barely recognize the person you're sitting next to at lunch.

katsuki doesn't say anything when you dismiss yourself. you ask kirishima to take notes for you as you won't be in class for the first half of the day-- the blonde looks almost emotionless as you make your way down the hall, uniform case swinging at your side.

the last thing katsuki wants to think about is the whole incident at the training camp. the last thing he wants to remember is how he watched you crumple to the ground when your heart failed on you during a simple sparring session with him. carrying your body through the woods, practically screaming for anyone to help him.

he never likes admitting when he's scared. he was terrified when your heart stopped.

he doesn't like pushing you to a distance, but if he sees you around enough his brain starts to mingle the image of your lifeless body with how you look in the present. it's jarring. and his own heart can't handle it. he's stuck in some sick loop of feeling the need to do more for you and wanting you to stay far away from him.

his footsteps feel heavy as they carry his body down the hallway. he's sore, exhausted after training with izuku. his arms are slick with sweat from wearing his winter outfit, working on his more large-scale attacks-- his hair sticks to his forehead, he looks at the ground as he walks. he barely registers your voice as he walks, absentmindedly cataloging it as part of his imagination.

when he finally lifts his head, he recognizes the familiar doors and windows of the school infirmary. even worse, he recognizes your form sitting on the edge of one of the beds, hooked up to a monitor. his heart falls to his stomach at the sight and before he can stop himself, he barges through the doors.

"the hell are you doing in here?" his voice is hard, borderline shaky. even though visibly you look fine, katsuki knows what it means when you're hooked up to a monitor that shows your heart rate. his eyes dart to the side to see the signal and his jaw clenches a little.

"i'm fine," you find yourself mumbling in response. your hand runs through your hair while the other messes with the thin sheets on the hospital bed underneath you. the monitor picks up the moment your eyes meet his and either katsuki ignores it or he's too worried to even mention it. "my pacemaker was acting weird while testing out new support items so i got sent here."

his eyes immediately narrow at your statement. he finds himself walking over to stand next to you, but he doesn't sit on the bed like he usually would. "what do you mean it's 'acting weird'?" his expression is a weird mixture of annoyance and concern. "is it about to give up on you?"

an awkward smile spreads on your lips and you laugh a little. "no!" the back of your hand meets his leg as you swat at him gently, trying to keep the situation light. "sometimes the signals get a little wonky so i have to get it resynced and rewired. nothing to worry about, really."

katsuki scoffs when you hit his thigh, and he snaps. "stop acting so casual about this," his eyes harden as he takes in the sight of you, grabbing your shoulder and squeezing it-- the action is gentle aside from how rough his tone is. "it freaks me the fuck out."

your face falls when he snaps at you and you know this is bothering him more than he wants to admit. you shoot him a look and scoot over on the bed, patting the new free spot beside you. "c'mere," you whisper.

he scoffs again but he isn't one to deny a request from you. the bed bounces a little from the sudden added weight and he scoots closer beside you. the bed is small, your thighs press together as the both of you watch the monitor just off to the side. the readings jump when he settles beside you, but again-- neither of you mention it.

your hands stay in your lap. your eyes flit from the monitor to his profile as a tiny and fond smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "you know i'd tell you if something was wrong with my heart, right?" your voice is quiet against the silence of the room.

katsuki knows that. he can't help but roll his eyes at that statement. the two of you have always been honest with each other. blunt. open. even with as distant as you've become with one another.

he can't help but worry about you. he has never told you about the nightmares he has about that night, nor will he ever tell you about them.

he looks away from the monitor and down at his lap. his brows furrow together and the annoyance melts to just concern. he continues to be quiet, listening to the steady beat of the monitor.

you stay quiet next to him, listening to the same beat. the last time you remember being in the infirmary at the same time as him was when he tweaked something in his arm-- the same one that got injured in the war. he had gone too far during training, you were there because you had overused your quirk and dehydrated to a lethal level.

"does it still bother you?" your teeth gnaw at your thumbnail in the silence that follows your voice. you're talking about the injury in his arm that's still healing, he's thinking about the night he carried your limp body out of the woods.

you barely notice how his shoulders stiffen. it's barely visible, but you know katsuki. he speaks up, but his voice is quiet. quiet and shaky. "…yeah. it does."

"it's not your fault," you reply in a tone that matches his. in a small, mindless action of comfort, you scoot closer towards him. your eyes stay locked on your hands in your lap. "i'm still here because of you, you know."

"stop saying stupid shit like that," a bitter expression crosses over his face. in the back of his head he knows it's not his fault. you've never blamed him for any of it. but you obviously don't think about it as much as he does, even now.

katsuki swallows again. harder this time. his shoulders are still tense, taut with awkward tension as he listens to the monitor. the beat was steady, but faster than it was before he sat down beside you.

your knee bounces as you look between him and the monitor, your tongue pressed between your lips. the silence is suffocating. and silences are never this awkward with katsuki unless it's involving your heart.

you can tell he's uncomfortable. from the bouncing of your leg, how your gaze flits from him to the monitor-- katsuki hates it. he can't help how his fists clench and unclench at his sides. the steady increasing beeping doesn't alleviate any of the growing tension between the two of you. he's worried-- and it's starting to show.

"why is your heart rate faster than usual?" his hand sticks out to point at the rise in the readings, as if you can't look at it yourself.

"i'm sitting next to you," you blurt out without even thinking about it. a laugh quickly follows to blanket the awkwardness and nerves but katsuki catches it. he wants to smile at your comment, he really does. he can see how the corner of your mouth twitches, and it makes his twitch in response.

his cheeks flush a little and he rolls his eyes a little, scoffing. "shut up."

you turn your head away from him and the monitor to hide how your lips actually form the smile. a couple beats pass before you finally face the screen again, fiddling with buttons and humming as you see how much longer you have on the monitoring cycle. you mutter something about ten more minutes, but katsuki barely hears it.

he's focused on your profile. he knows you just as well as you know him. he knows you're avoiding eye contact because you're flustered, deflecting the awkward tension in the room. it's bothering you just as much as it's bothering him.

"hey, [y/n]. look at me."

your head tilts a little and on cue, the monitor spikes when your eyes meet his. you try in vain to hide it, but it makes him smirk anyway.

"your heart betrays you, you know."

"yeah no shit, sherlock," you retort with a glare as you curse at the screen. literally and figuratively, your heart has sold you out. smacking the screen seems like it would do nothing to help the situation.

in a way, katsuki had an inkling that you had somewhat of a crush on him. if he wasn't so stubborn himself, he'd be able to at least admit to himself that he has one on you as well.

but the two of you are similar in more ways than one-- hard-headed and stubborn. only your confession was forced out in a stupidly subtle way.

katsuki grabs your chin and forces your attention back on him. "look at me, idiot. no more avoiding eye contact."

your eyes meet his once again and you curse a thousand times inwardly when the monitor spikes again. you can't even look away from him-- not that you had a choice, with the gentle grip of his fingers on your jaw, but also how his eyes seem to meld you into place.

his eyes have always been such an enigma to you. the color, the emotions swirling inside of them that you've only seen a small percentage of yourself. sometimes they're warm, like the embers of a campfire. sometimes they're harsh like blood seeping through an angry wound.

katsuki's smirk only grows wider when your heart rate steadies at the increased rate when you keep your eyes locked on him. inside, he's mentally freaking out. so it's true, you have a crush on him? it's confirmed now? he can barely contain how his brain reels at the information.

he moves closer, closing the already small distance between the both of you. the bed creaks as he moves, the thin mattress dips under his weight. his fingers stay locked onto your chin, his eyes never leaving yours. "so damn predictable," he practically purrs.

"i hate you," you immediately retort back and both of you know it's a lie. there's no malice or heat in your tone and the heart monitor straight up says it.

he watches as your eyes travel across his face. he's amused, clearly. he moves even closer towards you, his forehead resting against yours. his nose knocks against yours and a smirk curls further across his lips when the monitor spikes again. "no you don't, idiot."

"no, i don't," you breathe out, your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle and intimate contact. you'd be kicking yourself for folding so easily when he's this close to you. you decide to take a step further and cup his jaw with the palm of your hand, keeping him close.

he was already there, might as well lean into it, right?

he leans into the touch like it's instinct. he finds that he likes that your fingertips have a certain softness to them-- gentle, but rough due to the training and combat you've done over the years. his own heart feels like it's going to jump right out of his chest, but he's so damn good at keeping his cool. he has to keep the upper hand, because he'd be damned if you found out just how whipped he was for you.

a couple beats pass, but the two of you never break eye contact. it's strange how cool the two of you are with being so close together-- especially as intimately as this. your thumb swipes along his cheekbone and he swears his breathing stutters.

"you just had to barge in, didn't you?" the scoff that leaves your lips is disguised as a laugh.

katsuki tries to hide his smile when you talk, feigning annoyance. but he can't. he wants to push it further, to hear how your voice changes when you speak to him, how your heart rate spikes when he touches you. he loves the reactions. and apparently, he loves you.

"what, you didn't want me to check up on you?"

"you didn't have to stay," you murmur in response. your head tilts and it fits perfectly against his.

he leans into your touch even more, his hand falls to your thigh and his thumb draws mindless patterns onto the fabric on your pants. the monitor spikes again but he can't find it in himself to tease you about it. it just confirms the mutual attraction between the both of you.

katsuki swallows a little, his eyes not straying from yours. his voice is quiet when he speaks-- a tone he only reserves for you. "shut up," he mumbles. "of course i'm staying."

your teeth catch at your lower lip, failing to hide how your lips spread into a smile. your breathing is shaky, but it matches his. your 'okay' in response is barely above a whisper.

he's still concerned about your heart, of course he is. but right now it is a fading thought as he stares back at you, his chest tight. he's painfully stunned at just how much you make him feel with simple touches all of a sudden, how you make him feel everything with a simple look.

his gaze is soft. tender. you don't think he's looked at you like this before and it makes your throat dry.

eventually your heart rate steadies, once you grow comfortable with his proximity. your eyes shut and you don't even try to hide your smile or the chuckle that leaves your lips.

katsuki can't keep the smile off of his face either. your smile has always been infectious to him, and he finally lets himself be consumed by it, keening more for the warmth that the sight of it brings to his chest.

he wants to kiss you. so bad. he's a wimp, however and loses his chance when recovery girl steps back into the room when the monitoring phase is finished on your sensor. the two of you break apart-- equal amounts of pink coating your cheeks as she fiddles with the monitor and then with the device just under your skin on your chest. there's a knowing smile on her lips but she doesn't comment on anything, instead releasing you with a small instruction to get some rest.

katsuki is silent as you fix your shirt over your chest again, covering the pacemaker and fixing your hair now that you're detached from the machine. he watches you grab your things from the side of the bed, shouldering the strap of your bag and standing before your gaze turns back to him. "comin?"

he doesn't even hesitate.

once the doors to the infirmary shut behind the both of you, his hands shove into his pockets. he follows your lead down the hall, matching your pace like clockwork. the two of you walk a little closer to each other, his shoulder bumps against yours every so often.

the silence is comfortable, but still holds that twinge of awkwardness from before. he can't help but steal glances at you out of the corner of his eye. "you hungry?" he asks, his voice quiet.

your eyes light up at the mention of food. you hum in response, "actually yeah, i am."

he chuckles at the sight of the child-like response. he meets your gaze with a grin when your head tilts and he knocks his shoulder into yours. "i'm hungry too."

the two of you continue to walk, bumping into each other every once in a while-- which causes giggles to erupt from you, and a laugh to spill from katsuki. it's been a while since the two of you have been this playful with each other. carefree in a way. borderline flirty.

he doesn't even point out the stupid smile on your lips because he knows he looks just as stupid and giddy as you do at the moment. "you're such an idiot," he mutters fondly.

"shut up," you retort. the giggles don't fade out, filling the otherwise quiet hallway with warmth.

he wants to take your hand. you're close enough for him to do it, the both of you are practically walking shoulder to shoulder. it would be so easy for him to flex his pinky out and wrap it around yours, but he doesn't.

he rolls his eyes, but it lacks his usual brattiness. "make me," he challenges, digging his elbow into your side in a playful nudge.

you shove him away from you teasingly, laughing before pushing ahead of him in a couple paces. "those are dangerous words, 'suki," the nickname you use just to egg him on slipping off of your tongue easily.

katsuki clicks his tongue. "you little--"

you're unprepared for when he surges forward, hands latching onto your hips from behind. a sharp gasp leaves your lips when he tugs you roughly back into his chest, preventing you from walking any further.

your body stiffens from the contact involuntarily. your chest constricts from the feeling of your heart skyrocketing.

katsuki's grip tightens when he feels you stiffen in his hold. he doesn't know why he just grabbed you like this, but neither of you move away from another. katsuki's heart almost stops in his chest.

keep your shit together, he's thinking to himself. he's repeating be cool like a fucking mantra in his head.

his lips brush almost involuntarily against the shell of your ear, his voice low. "watch yourself, sweetheart."

when your head tilts back to look at him, you look like a deer caught in headlights. your hands clasp over top of his on your hips and his hands are warm. his grip doesn't falter, his eyes can't move away from yours. you look so cute to him at the moment-- startled and flushed. no doubt he probably looks the same to you.

he swallows the lump in his throat, trying to stay calm. the heat of your body pressing-- albeit not a lot--against his is intoxicating. "stop looking at me like that," he whispers, his voice rough but lacking the usual sharpness.

like a moth to a flame, you're leaning in towards his voice subconsciously. "like what?" your voice is barely audible.

he swallows again, his tongue darts out to run along his lips. "like you want to kiss me," he mumbles in response. he finds the way that you're melting against him a little too addicting.

both of you drop your eyes at the same time to each other's lips-- flushing at the same time. you don't realize how close the both of you are to each other until you are too close.

it's feels almost too natural. he's stuck on memorizing new details of your face that he's never noticed before until he's leaning in and brushing his lips against yours. you return the action by closing the remaining distance with a shaky exhale and suddenly the hallway fades around the both of you.

it's just the two of you, acting on instinct. your hand shakes as it lifts to graze his jaw and it sends fireworks along his skin. your head spins like he's stealing the oxygen straight from your lungs. the two of you stay locked to each other for what feels like a lifetime, but in reality is only a couple moments.

you don't know who pulls away first. but you feel the absence of the gentle pressure of his mouth on yours and you sigh, unable to hold back the whine that escapes.

katsuki is fairing no better from behind you. his breathing is ragged, heavy and he has yet to open his eyes. his hands are still tight on your hips and he has to swallow multiple times before he can manage to speak again. "fuck."

the corner of your mouth lifts at the sound of his curse. your lips are just a breath away from his, his nose knocks against yours in almost a silent plea for you to come closer once again. "whipped," you murmur teasingly, your knuckles curling under his jaw.

this time, katsuki curses louder-- but it's more to himself than it is aimed at you. so much for keeping his shit together.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[hotchfiles]

↪ QUIS UT DEUS? ─ chapter one.

AN IN NOMINE PATRIS, ET FILII, ET SPIRITUS SANCTI INSTALLMENT

pairing: hotch x fem!consultant!reader. summary: murders committed using catholic symbology gets emily to convince hotch it's time to ask for an expert. luckily for you, you're the expert. content warnings: canon typical violence. religious themes. spoilers to season 4. mature themes. word count: 1.5K

    In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti…

    “Amen.” If you weren’t paying attention and side eyeing him at that exact moment, you might’ve lost the way his lips moved following the ritual, no word actually leaving his mouth. 

    The black haired man didn’t look too comfortable, but didn’t look out of place either, he knew the cues, he spoke the words on automatic it seemed. It amused you to observe people’s behavior on holy grounds, that was part of the reason you asked to meet in silver spring.

    “Catholic, Mr. Hotchner?” Your question is met with a low scoff, the type only those with a bad bad history with the church gave you. “That much, huh?”

    “My parents were.” The answer is simple and you think it might stop at that, but he shakes his head and scoffs again. “I was an altar boy for years before I left for boarding school.” You nod. 

    “Ah. I've met some of you in my research.” Some of you. Church babies, altar boys. Spoon fed the bible from birth while watching everyone around sin. Sin becoming a term to reflect on what they hated. 

    “And you? Catholic?” 

    “Oh no. Never been.” You don’t explain much, aware Emily probably told him of your time in Rome, where the two of you met. “Your UnSub is though. Either devoted to Saint Michael or knows enough about his roles to look like one.” You note, being reminded of the pictures Emily sent you, big stab wounds, a small scale tipped to one side, the words Hebrews 9:22 written in blood. 

    Hotchner doesn’t reply, making a mental reminder of the new information, he looks around the place as you both leave the church and it hits him, Silver Spring’s St. Michael the Archangel parish, the church you chose as a meeting place. 

    He wouldn’t usually accept consultation for cases, especially from outsiders. And to be fair, the BAU doesn’t usually need any, Reid alone has more knowledge than anyone Hotch has ever met, and despite the humbleness he tends to show, Hotch himself can take care of the general book knowledge if Reid doesn’t step up to it. But he trusted Emily, and Emily spoke more highly of you than of anyone. Honestly, he was also trying to make amends after not having her back during the Matthew case they had not long before. 

    “She's in town giving lectures, it’s an asset we have easy access to, so why not use it?” Were her final and most convincing words before Hotch nodded in agreement, watching Emily make the call that led to the meeting. 

    He thinks now, as he’s driving both of you to Quantico, that maybe Emily should’ve been the one here, his attempts to strike conversation falling flat as you don’t even remember the last time you had to make small talk with someone, it felt awkward all of a sudden, as if you were on a date. 

    “I'm so sorry, I'm not too good with… People.” You blurt out after a long minute of silence, your neck suddenly warm from embarrassment. 

    Hotch side eyes you, brows lifted in confusion. You seemed much less confident in the car now than what you showed him of you minutes before back at the church. He figures you felt confident talking about your area of expertise and that he could relate to easily. “Did you notice anything else by the pictures Emily sent you?” 

    The switch of topic makes you sigh loudly in relief and you mentally thank him for brushing your silliness off. “He’s using different pieces of catholic dogma and putting it together, but most of the symbology eludes to Michael, the stabbing looks like a sword, the tipped scale indicates judgment, the verse he chose doesn’t cite Michael but talks about sins being forgiven by the shedding of blood… He’s the judge and executioner of his victims.” You try not to sound excited as you ramble on, it’s a terrible thing to witness, the pictures were grotesque and would’ve made you sick on a normal day, but the cherry picking of symbols the murderer seemed to make fascinated you. 

    “So you believe it’s a man?” 

    “Oh! I–I don’t know? I just assumed… Is that misogynistic?” You mumble the last part more to yourself, but it’s loud enough to make him chuckle and you look at him quickly to make sure it’s not mean spirited. 

    It’s definitely not. But it is amusing from a profiler perspective, he’s so used to defining serials’ genders by their crimes he hasn’t thought about misogyny being a factor to those assumptions in a long time. 

    “Brutality suggests male. But posing looks remorseful, theatrical…” His grip on the wheel tightens, two victims by now, feet crossed, arms wide open. 

    “If there were more allusions to the crucifixion, yeah, but I–” You take your phone out to look at the pictures once more, an attempt to seem less abstract in what you’re about to say. “No crown, no nails, this isn’t about Christ, it’s about punishment–I mean, I think.” You’re not usually self conscious about your knowledge but inferring characteristics and desires to someone by looking at a crime scene was not your specialty. 

    “To further point they were judged and executed…” Hotch nods, understanding where your line of thought is going and completing it immediately, not leaving you much time to doubt yourself. 

    “A very shameful execution.” 

    You both spend the short ride from Silver Springs to Quantico going over the symbology present, you tried to help here and there with the associations of what you saw to who could’ve done it, even though that was not what you were called in for. Strangely enough—for him at least, Hotch didn’t seem to mind your guesses, they were educated ones.

    And it was interesting to hear someone speak with such passion about religious aspects without any of the fundamentalism. It was definitely something he wasn’t used to.

    “Mi amore!” Are the first words you hear as you enter the famous bullpen from Emily’s texts, her arms surrounding you in a tight warm hug you haven’t felt in years—it hits you then how long has it been. You weren’t able to come and mourn Matthew with her, his parents weren’t fond of you either (Lord almighty, you didn’t even go to church with them!) and you were busy with your lectures.

    “Hey troublemaker, how’s it going?” Your question is muffled in the hug, your hands clasping together behind her back.

    The reunion doesn’t last long, curious eyes set on you two and a rather impatient Hotch leading the way to what you learned was the conference room.

    The briefing room. The round table. Emily told you about it when she first got into the BAU.

    You end up sitting between Emily and who you would bet was Spencer—there’s this sweet kid working with us, he’s super smart, annoyingly smart, but so sweet, he reminds of Matty when we were teens—the lanky boy was the only one with what seemed like naivety enough in his eyes to be the one Emily mentioned back then. 

    Aaron sat in front of you almost, serious, stern, very different from the few chuckles you got from him in the car. This was unit chief Hotchner, the subtle difference was fascinating.

    “Alright, as we know, DC is in trouble, second murder in three weeks.” blonde and gorgeous, you believed that was JJ, there had been no time for introductions, all you could do was try to remember the e-mails and few phone calls you shared with Emily the past years. “Richard Beckett, married, no kids, 27. He works for his father's car dealership.” 

    Pictures show up on the screen, showing the man when he was alive. It’s a punch to your gut, just minutes before you were fascinated by the way this real person was murdered. You’re glad you had a light breakfast by the way your stomach turns.

    “Monica Dawson, divorced, no kids, 53. She’s a counselor at a local school.” The woman continues speaking, with more pictures on the screen. And then pictures of their deaths, side by side. The fascination is completely extinguished then. “Both were stabbed countless times with a large blade. Left in abandoned warehouses posed in a cross position, a tipped scale on their side. Both naked. Both were heavily drugged.”

    “They didn’t have kids, is that a coincidence?” You hear Emily speak up and suddenly you can see all their brains working.

    “Could that be the linking between them? The victimology is all over the place.” Derek. Oh. You’ve heard of Derek. You’ve seen pictures of Derek. He needs no introduction. 

    “Reid, Morgan, go talk to the first victim’s widow. Rossi, JJ, Ms. Dawson’s ex-husband can give us insight on her life. Emily and us—” He gives you a look and you understand he means you, nodding in reply. “Will head to the DC police precinct.” The way Hotch gives orders is effortless, not only his job but his vocation. 

    Everyone listens and agrees quickly, moving and leaving the table, even Emily is fast on her feet, even though she won’t leave without you and him. You stay still, stiff, eyes glued to the screen.

    “Are you alright?” His voice is soft, laced with worry, genuine worry. You didn’t even notice he had stayed behind, but you nod again at Hotch, a question burning at the tip of your tongue.

    “Do you still believe in God, Mr. Hotchner?”

[bobbin-buckley]

Partners

Astrid Deetz x Masc!Fem!Reader

Summary: Astrid finds a partner to survive college and her classmates

Warnings: Some bullying, fluff, some mentions of almost dying, some spoilers from the movie, homophobia, horrible flirting, fluff at the end!

e/c: eye color

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She found herself wandering the darkened aisles of the college’s library, fingertips brushing against the spines of of each book that have been sitting there for so long some dust falls. She received an assignment regarding Shakespeare, it was basically a detention assignment due to her arguing with her teacher about some disagreements.

When reaching for the book she needed, her warm hand collided with a cold one. Turning her head to look up at the taller figure, she saw you. Now you weren’t popular or anything, but for it being a small college and town she could easily recognize you.

Astrid furred her eyebrows, politely asking you to let go. “I’ve found this book first,” she said in a stern tone.

You glanced down at her. She could notice your attractive state, you were very pretty. Astrid’s brown eyes stared into your e/c, and damn she felt like love at first sight really hit her.

Your voice cut off her trance, “It’s okay, I’m sure you need it more than me.” Your hand moved from the book and her hand, she pouted a bit at the absence of your hand against hers.

Grabbing the book still, she tilted her head slightly…examining you and your features. “Yeah, I do need it more than you. Thanks…” she paused, realizing how shitty that sounded. “Anyways, what’s your name?”

“Y/n,” you answered, “and you?” The more you looked at her the more familiar she became, I mean..yes of course she goes to the same college as you. But you don’t exactly observe the people around you, especially the quiet ones.

She bit her lip, your voice was sexy. Her grip tightened on the book, trying to stay focused. “Astrid,” she answered before asking. “Hm, you just look familiar, have we met?”

“Now that you mention your name, aren’t you the kid that keeps getting picked on by those goons right?” Well that was definitely out there, not that she took any offense to it. She was getting bullied by some of the other schoolgirls, they’d put a Halloween prop in her dorm to scare her, which never works.

“Yeah, I am. I also wish those idiots would stop it.” She sighed, not really wanting to think about them.

“I get that, well I can deal with them if you want,” you offered. She was shocked, never ever did she think anyone would be willing to protect her. Besides maybe her mom, if she was even here.

“It’s fine, really.” Astrid shook her head, she didn’t want to see your pretty face get hurt.

All you did was nod, putting your hands in the pockets of your school pants. “Well uh…just let me know. And if you need help school wise I’m happy to, Shakespeare isn’t easy.” You walked off through the aisle with a smile, disappearing when turning the corner.

Sigh

How was she going to get over you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was never going to get over you.

You were just too damn sweet and perfect! She couldn’t handle the way you smile, the way your eyes beamed into hers and your voice was incredibly attractive!

Astrid wasn’t sure what she was going to do about it, she said she wasn’t going to fall in love like her mom. She didn’t want to be anything like her mom. Even if she did, she might end up getting a divorce if she does ever get married..would that happen with you?

“Ugh, this is so frustrating.” Astrid said under her breath, she’s spent at least two hours now doing all this research and shit.

Normally she does okay when doing school work, but why couldn’t she think? It was because she was thinking of you, fuck.

She took a deep breath, and began to gather her stuff. Maybe if studying with you would help make her less distracted?

Wrong. Absolutely Wrong

Astrid left her dorm, locking it and making sure those pricks won’t get in like last time and prank her. Though when she turned around and headed for the stairs, a book came skimming across the wooden floor, ironically ending up right under her foot causing her to slip and trip down the stairs.

She gasped, her book bag flew down with her. She expected to hit the ground and be dead, but she felt warm arms around her, preventing her from dying.

“Hey you okay?” Astrid looked up, seeing how it was some guy who caught her. She wasn’t sure why, and she was disappointed for some reason.

“Uh..yeah I’m fine,” she backed up from the guy and brushed off her skirt. Then the uproarious sounds of laughter were heard from behind her up the stairs where she slipped. It was the girls that harassed her, they were laughing with tears in their eyes.

Astrid rolled her eyes, a flash of red flashing over her cheeks in embarrassment. She looked back up at the guy.

“How’s your leg? You slipped pretty hard,” he held her hips..for some reason trying to get closer to her.

Astrid backed up again, bending down to pick up all her stuff as he tried to help. “I said I’m fine, thanks.” She said a bit more aggressive, she wasn’t mad at him..just at those girls.

“Well uh..” he started again.

God can’t he shut the fuck up?

“Uhm…I’m Nick. I’m in your literature class.” He said, thinking she’d just know who he was. When really she didn’t. “I was your partner for the Shakespeare project.”

“Shit.” She said out loud, making the oblivious boy furrow his eyebrows. She forgot she had a partner, she just left class early to cool off from being stressed, she never heard who her partner was.

“Right…yeah sorry. Uhm..” “No it’s alright you forgot, I actually came to ask you if you wanted to go study in the library?”

Why did he have to ask that?!

“Oh sure, yeah I guess,” dumbass. Astrid thought, fuck she was screwed..she wanted to study with you!

“Great!” He exclaimed, “let’s get going cause I’ve got a club to meet with later.” He smiled, leading her to the library and she followed him anxiously. She totally forgot about the girls and their prank.

Astrid sat across from Nick, though after every few minutes he’d scoot his chair closer. It made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want to be rude and leave, she already said yes to studying with him. But you…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking through the library, your books in your arms. Now the head over heels girl you are, you studied Shakespeare for Astrid. Even if she didn’t agree to study with you yet…you still wanted to be nice.

When passing through the library, you could hear a familiar voice faint from across the library. You peaked around the corner of an aisle of books, seeing Astrid with a guy!?

“The fuck..?” You muttered to yourself, why was she studying with a guy? I mean sure..cool I guess, but you offered..and why did she decide to go with him instead? You’re definitely smarter than him. (Since you are in your favorite class with him and he has no idea what’s going on)

Jealously floods through your body, hands clenched in fists and clenching the books. You wanted to beat the guy with your books and take Astrid to your dorm.

But she didn’t say yes. So that’s her decision, not yours to make.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While deep in thought of studying, Astrid caught a glimpse of you staring at her and and Nick. You left quickly and she sat up.

“Whoa, you good pretty girl?” Nick asked in a flirty way, bothered the hell out of her.

“No..I’m not.” She huffed, unsure if she should chase after you or not.

Nick bit his lip, “well..maybe uh, taking this studying date behind closed doors might cheer you up?”

Astrid’s eyes went wide at his words, the forceful feeling of gagging escaped her. She turned to looks at him from the library doors.

“Excuse me what? No thank you, and this ain’t a fucking date weirdo.” Astrid stood up quickly, gathering her things. Nick shot up from his chair, damn he was desperate.

“W-wait no, hey I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. How about uh..flowers? Would that suffice?” His dumbass tried to convince, but none of his ‘charm’ was getting to Astrid.

“No. End of story, I’ve got a different study date to catch.” Literally

Astrid took off, speeding walking out of the library and left him behind dumbfounded in the library. She had no idea where you could have gone, she wandered the halls aimlessly.

“Oh is the dyke looking for her girlfriend? She ran off to her dorm with tears in her eyes, you know it’s hard to break Y/n.” Astrid heard the snitch say, she turned to face her and sighed.

“Just shut up Kayla. I don’t need you on my ass right now,” Astrid scoffed and walked off to find you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She spent about an hour looking for you, she eventually found you outside in the rain by the garden. A common place for those who are stressed or sad to hangout at.

“Y/n?” You turned your head when you heard her voice. She looked pretty as ever under the rain, and so did you. You turned away again, not sure what to say but still be upset. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She stepped closer to you, sitting down next to you.

“Sorry, I was just shocked when I saw you with…that guy,” you tried not to sound jealous. But regardless of what you say it sounded like it. “It’s..it’s not that I’m jealous. I just really wanted to be the person to study with you.”

Astrid blushed at your words, her heart feeling touched by your words. “Sounds like your jealous to me..but I won’t tease you.” She chuckled, smiling up at you. “Besides, it was cute of you to come find me and ask again.”

Your own cheeks flared up, it was the first time someone’s ever made you flustered. “Thanks Astrid, if you want to we can still study?” She smiled, meaning yes. “Oh! And uh..might be a little too much but I already did some studying for you..to see maybe what you could be struggling with.”

She watched you pull out some notes, which were kinda ruined from the rain. “Well…” “it’s okay..we can start over if you want.” Astrid stopped you, placing a hand on yours.

Your eyes shifted to hers, then her lips. “I’d love to start over.”

HAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAH CLIFFHANGER

actually nvm I won’t do that to y’all

Astrid pressed her lips against yours, not hesitating to do it. You were glad she did, you were too damn nervous to get any closer. Her hands grasped around your neck, while yours let go of the already damp papers onto her waist. The notes began to dampen even more from falling into a puddle.

From now on your promise to always study with her and keep her from dumbasses like Nick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: Rushed bc I felt bad for not posting anything in awhile

My first time writing Astrid too

And idk who the jerks in the movies names were so Kayla was something that popped into my head

Also not all the way spelled checked bc my brain hurts from homework

[trulyumai]

the lonely cabin isn’t what it seems

— Pairing: Young!Stanford Pines / Reader

—Synopsis: Lost and confused, a woman spots her lifeline; a seemingly desolate and empty cabin. She meets Ford, pleads for his help and shelter only to find things aren’t as they seem. As the scientist starts to fall deeper and deeper for the woman, he realizes they aren’t alone. He’s watching.

Warnings: none so far!

A/N: I finally got to watch Gravity falls and noticed this was a requested character, enjoy this new series!

Part One: The Unexpected Guest

Stanford Pines had always loved the isolation of his cabin, surrounded by nature’s beauty. But tonight, as the wind howled outside, he found himself feeling a strange pang of loneliness.

He was deep in thought, hunched over his cluttered workbench, examining an intricate device he had been tinkering with for weeks. The cabin was filled with books, gadgets, and the faint smell of pine. Stanford often lost track of time here, but tonight felt different; he could sense a storm brewing outside.

Just as he was about to put his tools down for the evening, a loud knock echoed through the stillness. Startled, he pushed away from his workbench, his heart racing. Who would be out here in this weather?

He opened the door cautiously, revealing a figure shivering on his doorstep. She was soaked to the bone, her hair plastered to her face, and her eyes wide with fear.

“Uh, can I help you?” Ford asked, his voice a mix of surprise and caution.

“Please, I’m lost,” she said, her voice trembling. “I saw your cabin from the trail, and I just need somewhere to stay until the storm passes.”

Ford hesitated. He was used to solitude, preferring the company of books and experiments over people. “I don’t usually take in strangers,” he replied, trying to keep his tone firm.

The woman looked up at him, and he caught her gaze. There was a vulnerability in her eyes that tugged at something inside him. She was cute, even with her disheveled appearance, and the thought of turning her away made his heart ache.

“Please,” she whispered, shivering violently. “I’ll just stay for a little while. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

With a heavy sigh, Ford stepped aside. “Fine. Come in.”

As she entered, he noticed her apprehensive demeanor. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to regain warmth. Ford quickly closed the door behind her, the howling wind now a muffled roar.

“you can um, sit by the fire,” he said, gesturing toward the small hearth where flames flickered, casting a warm glow across the room. “I’ll get you a towel.”

While he rummaged through a closet, he could feel her gaze following him. He handed her the towel, avoiding her eyes. “You should dry off.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, smiling as she took the towel. There was something endearing about her shy demeanor, and it made him feel a little flustered.

After a few minutes, the two settled into an awkward silence, the only sound being the crackling fire. Ford couldn’t help but steal glances at her. She was smaller than him, with a kind face, and he noticed the way her eyes sparkled when she looked around the room, taking in his chaotic yet fascinating workspace.

“What do you do here?” she asked, breaking the silence. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m a scientist,” he replied, his voice a bit more relaxed. “Researching the anomalies in this area.”

“Anomalies?” Her interest piqued, and he felt a rush of excitement.

“Yeah, strange occurrences, supernatural phenomena,” he said, the words flowing more easily now. “You’d be surprised what’s out there in these woods.”

Her eyes lit up, and he could see her mind racing. “Like what?”

He leaned back in his chair, his passion igniting. “Well, there’s a portal to another dimension not far from here. I’ve seen creatures that defy the laws of physics. It’s fascinating.”

“Really?” she whispered, captivated. “You must have so many incredible stories.”

He chuckled, surprised by her enthusiasm. “You could say that. Most people don’t believe me, though.”

“Why not?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Ford shrugged, feeling a mix of pride and frustration. “People tend to fear what they don’t understand. It’s easier to dismiss it as nonsense.”

“I think it’s amazing,” she said earnestly. “You’re like a real-life scientist. It’s inspiring.”

Her compliment caught him off guard, and he felt a warmth rising to his cheeks. “It’s nothing special,” he mumbled, looking away.

The storm raged outside, but inside, the atmosphere shifted. They began to exchange stories—she shared tales of her life, her shy nature making her adventures sound all the more charming. Ford found himself laughing more than he had in a long time.

As the hours passed, Ford felt a connection growing between them, an unspoken bond. The way she listened, her wide eyes fixed on him as he spoke, made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t experienced in years.

“Why do you live out here all alone?” she asked, her tone softening.

“It’s… complicated,” he replied, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. “I needed a place to think, away from the chaos of the world.”

“You don’t have to be alone, you know,” she said gently. “I’m sure there are people who would love to be around you.”

Ford looked at her, taken aback by her sincerity. “I appreciate that, but people can be difficult. I’m not exactly the most social person.”

“But you’re so interesting,” she insisted. “You have all these incredible ideas and stories. I want to hear more.”

He chuckled nervously, feeling his heart race. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” she replied, her eyes sparkling. “I mean it.”

In that moment, he realized how much he had come to appreciate her presence. She had a way of making him feel alive, as if the walls he had built around himself were slowly crumbling.

As the fire crackled and the storm raged outside, Ford found himself wanting to share more of himself with her, to let her in. It felt terrifying yet exhilarating.

“Can I show you something?” he asked suddenly, his heart pounding.

“Sure!” she replied, her excitement palpable.

He led her to his workshop, a room filled with strange inventions and diagrams scattered across the walls. “This is where I do most of my work,” he said, feeling a mix of pride and anxiety.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder. “This is incredible!”

Ford couldn’t help but smile as she inspected his gadgets. “I’ve been working on a new device that could help understand the anomalies better,” he said, gesturing to a complex machine. “It’s still a work in progress, though.”

She leaned closer, studying the intricate details. “It’s so fascinating how your mind works,” she said, glancing up at him with admiration. “I can’t believe you built all of this.”

Her words sent a thrill through him. “Thank you,” he said, feeling a warmth in his chest. “I’ve always loved solving problems, figuring things out.”

“I can see that,” she said, stepping closer. “You’re like a genius.”

Ford laughed, but he felt a blush creeping up his neck. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“But you are,” she insisted, her eyes sincere. “You have this passion that’s just… captivating.”

He felt a rush of warmth at her words, his heart racing as their gazes locked. The air between them thickened with an unspoken tension, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she felt it too.

“Um, I—” he started, but the words caught in his throat.

Before he could continue, she reached out and touched his arm gently, grounding him. “Thank you for taking me in… I know how bothersome it might be but I really appreciate it.” She smiled, light and honest.

The sincerity in her voice struck him deeply. He could feel the walls he had built around his heart starting to crumble. “It’s nothing,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

As the storm howled outside, the warmth of the cabin enveloped them, and in that moment, Stanford Pines realized that perhaps shelter wasn’t just about finding refuge from the storm; it was about letting someone in.

And as they stood there, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the brilliance of each other’s presence, he felt the unmistakable spark of something new beginning to bloom between them—a connection that promised to change his world forever.

[pleasantphantomhologram]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Y/N 

Warning: NONE, PURELY FLUFF <3

Summary: Adulting as a girl in this shitty world means that every single bare minimum thing that your soon to be boyfriend/crush did is such a treasure for you. You easily impress by this type of man because all men in your life including your dad are very shitty. But, with Jason Todd, your new boyfriend, everything has changed and HE teaches you more than that. 

A/n: hey bare minimum gurl, how is your day lately? Yes, i am still on my holiday, and I want to write this things that happened around me. Yes, many of my girlfriends are having a boyfriend, but they are easily impressed by all this bare minimum act that their boyfriends did. All i could say is… please don’t ever settle for bare minimum, gurl. You deserved so much more 🥰 

Being a girl is hard. That’s the only fact that you know since you are in school and now an adult working woman who has lived in Gotham city for almost 3 years. Yes, you are working so hard to be here, and now all of your hard work is paying off. You are a copywriter for some big agency here. It’s not that you are having this ‘Sex and The City’ dream, at some point you hate your job, but at least, the pay is not bad and you can afford this small studio apartment with your furry pet, a british shorthair cat named Zach. 

It seems that your life is perfectly fine, but, of course it’s not because you are just a girl. You love reading romance novels, it’s like an escapism of your sometimes shitty boss. You have this certain type of favorite trope and dream boy, but, in real life you are very easy to impress by the bare minimum thing that every bumble match guy does to you.

You have many ex-(shitty)boyfriends, and there are also shitty crushes and it seems you never learnt from your previous relationship. But, when you meet this 28 year old man named Jason Todd from one of the parties that your friends held, everything seems different.

He is not just asking about how’s your day, or how he is always checking you out (and you are not even in a relationship yet!), but every once a week he send you a bouquet of your favorite flowers (He asked you this when you two were on your first date). 

On your second date, Jason, who initiated everything, he researched the most favorite cafe to go on a date and made a list of what to do after that. He did bring you to your favorite book store and said he knew this information because he saw your Instagram story gushing over new books here. 

“ To be honest, I know that you like this place because I saw your IG story a week ago.”

“You remember that?” Y/N asked with a disbelief tone. It surprised you that this man remembered the nonsense IG story that you made sometimes.  

“..Shit, am I wrong? So, sorry I don't know if it made you uncomfortable.” he said. 

“No.., no, it is fine. It is just… No one besides my friends is paying attention to my nonsense IG story.” You said. 

“It is not nonsense, I think you are just being you and that’s cute.” You blushed at his words. Damn you Todd, she cursed in her heart. 

At the end of the date, Jason Todd took you to the front of your apartment and said that he is so happy to spend time with you and surprise-surprise he said…

“Hei, Y/N i.. uhh, i like the way our conversation goes from the first time we’ve chatted, and… uhh, can we take this to another level. i … I like you. a lot, actually. and this is my first time that i felt this. And.. I don't know what’s the best time to ask you to be my girlfriend? shit, is it too soon?”

You can’t help but giggle a bit, oh my why he is so cute. 

 “Jay…, I like you too.” You confessed to him.

“Really? But, I think I just did the bare minimum things the guy did. You deserve more than this. Okay, I will show you how a man should treat his partner  more than bare minimum.” 

From the moment he told you that, you two were in a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. Every weekend he visits your apartment and bring your favorite snack and food, and snacks for Mr. Zach! The first time he visited your apartment, he even steals Mr. Zach attention with his charming smile. For your information, Mr. Zach is not like you, he is hard to impress by humans, but with Jason, everything seems easy for him. 

“Hello, who is this gentleman? Wow, he is so majestic.” Said Jason. 

“His name is Zach.. he is..” You are stunned a bit when Mr Zach is already on Jason’s lap purring over him. 

“Oh my God. he never does that to any stranger.”

“Well, I think Mr Zach approved of me as your boyfriend? Right, Mr. Zach?” Zach kept purring on his lap. 

If your cat approved of this man, how can you not melt on his hand then? You thought, you will fallin so hard to this man, and you don’t even know if you will recover if you two break up.

 True to his word, he always shows youi how much he care about this relationship. He posted about you on his instagram and never try to hide his relationship with you. he is fuckin smitten with you. When he is at your apartment he always listens to your rambling like…

“Guess what..” you said

“What is it babe?”

“You remember Samantha, the project manager that I told you about..”

“The girl you said is so useless and not very helping.”

“Yes….  Today someone found out  she is the mistress of our Art Director.” Jason gasped with an excited tone.

“No waaaaayyyy..”

“Yes waaaaaay.. I can't believe that the tea is boiling.” you chuckled. Jason smiles at you.

It feels so natural the way this dynamic with Jason, he always listens to what you say, he genuinely cares about you, and you just realize that this is how it feels to be loved by someone.

---- 

He likes to spoil you rotten, you are totally his queen and he doesn’t stop to show how much he loves you. Every little things he did always made you melt, like for example that time when the weather is getting cold, he always remind you to wear your jacket and when he pick you up from your office, he always make sure that you wear your jacket neatly so that you don’t get cool when he takes you on his motorbike. 

“Wait, let me fix your jacket first.” he said. 

“It is already good.”

“It doesn’t hurt to check again.” he smiled at you. Ugh, you love him so much. 

When you two are officially one year together, He asked you if you want to move in with him to this apartment that he newly bought. It’s an apartment with three bedrooms and one of the room he designed to be your mini library and cozy place to read with a big sofa on the corner. 

HONESTLY, YOU WANTED TO SCREAM AT THIS POINT, IS IT A DREAM? 

“You are lying right?” You asked with a disbelief tone. 

“No baby, it is the truth. I am so sorry if this is too sudden. I.. I just want to be with you and wake up next to you every single day of my life. But, if you are still not ready yet, it’s okay baby, you can just visit it whenever you like.” He said while caressing your face. Now, you are totally crying. 

“Oh my God, Jaybird you are totally peace of shit,” and then you kiss him and hug him. 

“Okay.. I will move in with you.” when he heard the yes, he is smililng widely and kiss her again. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for bring so much happiness to my life.”

“Jaybird, I love you too.”

[pastelwitchling]

Let's talk about Violet Sorrengail. I'm currently rereading Iron Flame in preparation for Onyx Storm, and I have so much to say on the brilliance of this series so far that I figured I could do it here. I particularly wanted to address the controversy I see around Iron Flame, which is on the conflict between Violet and Xaden, and I've seen people mostly siding with Xaden, calling Violet whiny or annoying or stubborn, and... I (not-so) respectfully disagree 😂 Warning: the following post will contain spoilers on both Fourth Wing and Iron Flame, so read at your peril:

I put out a post yesterday on fable where I basically said I was getting frustrated all over again at Xaden's secret-keeping, and I got two very different responses. One said they were angry at Xaden as well, and the other said they were annoyed with Violet. This is an excellent example of why I love this series so much: you could easily argue for both sides. At least, I could. I get that Xaden has to worry about the whole revolution and everyone involved, I get that there's more on the line than either of these two characters, I get there's a risk with Dain getting ahold of Violet, especially because we're not sure we can trust him anymore. I get there are risks, I get Xaden wanting Violet to trust him enough that she doesn't need every detail. I get all of it, but... I also really get it from Violet's perspective as well.

This is a girl who came in already one step behind everyone else, not just because she's disabled, but because she didn't train her whole life for Basgiath the way the other riders had, she never volunteered, she didn't have the drive for it going in that everyone else did. Her only option was to survive, and not because she hoped to have a dragon, but because she had no other choice. She couldn't join the scribes, so either she survived or she didn't. Her motto is literally "I will not die today" because that's all she can hope for. The only weapon in her arsenal and which she relies on to help her make it every single day is her intelligence and knowledge. She's the smartest, she can think her way out of any problem, she's intelligent enough to see paths where others wouldn't. Now? Now her only weapon is gone.

Her world's been turned upside down, one of her best friends died trying to protect her from a creature she never knew existed, everything she thought she knew and could rely on is gone, and Xaden puts her back in Basgiath, encourages her to isolate herself from her friends, not let on that she knows anything is wrong as innocent civilians are dying and towns are attacked left and right, and essentially tells her not to worry her pretty little head about it. He and the others will take care of it. What are they taking care of exactly? Well, who knows? Because he won't tell her.

DO NOT GET ME WRONG. I LOVE Xaden, he is... incomparable to me. But aren't his demands a little cruel? He has yet to tell Violet he loves her, but wants to hear the words from her. He has suspicions that Varrish will look through her things, but doesn't have anyone warn her. Maybe he can't tell her everything, but he can give her some idea on how the revolution is going, how plans are panning out, and refuses to do any of it. The most he tells Violet is that he wants her to ask the right questions, and my dude! You want her to ask you the properly-worded question so you can, what, give her another half-answer? And until she figures out those proper questions, there's a good excuse not to tell her anything? Especially when you are isolating her from everyone she holds dear, leaving her utterly alone while you get to keep your friends to rely on? And he can't tell why she'd be upset about this?

I got to the point last night in the book when he finds out she's researching the wards, and tells her that she's risking her life and he just wishes she would've been honest with him, and I guess my brain had completely blocked the hypocrisy out from my first read because I was gaping! He risks his life every day and tells her nothing about it, tells her not to even worry, but he demands honesty from her now?? With what right, sir???!!

Also, ALSO, just humor me for a second, but assume Violet did do as she was told. Assume she did try not to worry about it, not to get involved, not to do anything Xaden doesn't want her to. How does that make her a badass fmc? I think of books like Quicksilver and When the Moon Hatched and Crescent City, where the fmc was all bark and no bite. She TALKED about how much she cared about other people, she TALKED about how much everyone meant to her, she TALKED about injustice and how angry it made her and how much she wanted things to change and be better, and what did all of those fmcs have in common? They either did NOTHING, constantly yanked around by the male main character with every excuse to continue to do nothing, or they selfishly went out and made things worse in the name of doing something.

What did Violet do when Xaden told her not to worry about it? She fought back, she understood why she couldn't be told, but still asked for something so that she wouldn't go out of her mind. She was thrust back into Basgiath, lost and not knowing who or what to trust, and decided she was going to be productive, she was going to look into the wards and find a way to protect people in a clever and quiet way. And spoiler alert? It's her work with the wards that ends up saving everyone, and she doesn't get innocent people killed or in trouble doing it either.

I am so eternally sick of being TOLD why female main characters are badass and how caring and wonderful and self-sacrificial they are, and what do we get? We get unbelievably selfish characters like Bryce, or fmcs from Quicksilver and When the Moon Hatched and One Dark Window whose names I've already forgotten because all they did was snarl and talk and had no abilities to follow it up.

So yeah, I'll defend Violet until the hilt because she's out there DOING something helpful and worthwhile, she's actually contributing, and her anger makes sense. She's separated from everyone she loves, the one man she wishes she could talk to is gone most of the time, and giving her half-answers when he's actually there. She doesn't know what to trust, this is a girl who recites the history of her world to calm herself and give herself courage, and who has now discovered that that history is a lie. Xaden is supposed to be the guy that believed in her abilities when no one else did, and now she feels like he's become just someone else who doesn't trust in her strength to guard her thoughts against Dain. Whether or not it's true doesn't matter because it's how he makes her feel, and her feelings are already a mess after everything that's happened.

Does it come off a bit stubborn? Sure, but... how I think of it is a lot like Harry Potter from Order of the Phoenix. He was angry during that whole book, too, but I don't know, these characters are always so good and brave and clever and genuinely caring and willing to do what it takes for the people they love that when they can't take it anymore, when they've been pushed to their limit, it's not fair to tell them to just be reasonable and follow orders and keep quiet. They know too much, too much has happened, too many people around them have hurt them. I think that warrants a little anger, a need to be useful and do something when everything else feels so hopeless.

If Xaden wanted somebody that was content not knowing and not helping and not caring, if he wanted someone that wouldn't have put their lives at risk to save people and, above all, save him, then he should've fallen in love with someone else.

[holylulusworld]

Sleepless Nights

Summary: He needs sleep...

Pairing: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: scenting, implied friends to mates, fluff

Written for @spnkinkevents : Kinky Sam Week 2024 – Day 7: Dealer’s choice – a/b/o

SPN Kinky Sam Week Masterlist

A grumpy and sleepy Sam is adorable. You smile to yourself while watching the gentle giant. He rubs his face absently. 

Sam tries to figure out another spell to make hunting easier. Dean is not a fan of magic. He prefers his guns. But Sam is quite skilled in using magic.

“You should get some sleep, Sam. We can still find the spell to defeat the witch tomorrow,” you sit on the chair next to Sam’s leaning closer to sniff in his direction. He smells like cedarwood, a warm summer rain, and something that’s just him. 

You sigh dreamily and watch him knit his brows together. Sam didn’t hear your words. He’s engrossed in reading another book while you struggle to not hop onto his lap to run your fingers through his hair.

“Soft,” you purr low in your throat while you fantasize about tugging at his hair. 

“What did you say?” Sam dips his head to look at you. “You should go to bed. I got this. I’m sure to find the spell soon.”

“You need your sleep too, Sam. Why don’t you stop for tonight and get some sleep too? It’s unhealthy to stay up all night,” you softly say. “If you don’t look out for yourself, I’ll do it.”

He watches you for a moment, humming as you nervously twiddle your fingers. It’s the first time you have argued with Sam. You chew on your lower lip, hoping that he’s not mad.

Sam is your friend, but he’s still an alpha. Some are more openly aggressive and dominant. You don’t know about Sam. He never tried to dominate you, only because you are an omega.

“You’re very attentive and caring,” Sam suddenly slams the book shut and shoves it away. He gets up from his chair and stretches his back. “You should think about self-care more often. 

“I’m good…really.” You stammer when Sam turns his attention toward you, not the books. “I had a warm shower to relax, and I bought this fluffy pillow.”

“You look tired, and I think you need a warm blanket too,” he cups your face with one big hand. You shudder as his eyes bore into you. “How about I bring you to bed?” Sam murmurs.

“I’m fine,” it’s more a whimper than anything else. “You shouldn’t worry about me, Sam. You do so much more and fight all the time. I’m just the research bug."

Sam ignores your words. He leans closer to whisper in your ear. “I said, you need a warm blanket and a rest.” His voice is raspy and filled with simmering anger. “Omega.”

You gasp audibly. A shudder runs through your whole body hearing your presentation leave Sam’s lips. “Now, you’ll let me bring you to my room and wrap you in a warm blanket. We will sleep and have a good night’s rest.”

Sam doesn’t wait for your answer. He makes quick work and picks you up in bridal style. You squeak, surprised he easily lifts you in his arms.

It doesn’t matter he let his inner alpha take over. You immediately snuggle in his chest and purr at his dominant behavior.

“You need someone to take care of you, and make sure you rest well,” he murmurs while carrying you inside his room. “I’ll be the one doing so.”

Sam carefully places you on his bed and takes off your shoes. He joins you on the bed and brings you in his arms to keep you warm.

“I thought you wanted to wrap me in a warm blanket,” you yawn.

“I’m your blanket and will keep you warm from now on…”

Tags in reblog.

[lair-of-platonic-yanderes]

Hello! Can I request a Platonic! Yandere! Alhaitham x GN! Child! Nahida! Reader? Thank you!

There is a sick God child in Scribe's house

Platonic! Yandere! Al-Haitham x GN! Child! Nahida! Reader

Description: Alhaitham has repeated time and time again, that he is only an Acting Grand Sage. But life of the nation can't just freeze until new Grand Sage is appointed. So, Alhaitham doesn't have a choice and should work with Dendro Archon to clean up the mess, that was from former sages' actions.

Grudges are petty. Smart person could either to stop holding it, or take revenge. Azar, exiled, striped of all his power and influence, has a grudge. Azar still has his intelligence. Azar still has an ace up his sleeve.

_______

Warning and tags: OOC. Platonic Yandere. English is my second language. Spoilers for Sumeru's AQ. Reader are Gender Neutral. Azar is a bastard. Mentions of attempted murder. Poisoning.

Alternative timeline (I guess) - Wanderer's Interlude happened before Fabulous Fungus Frenzy Event).

Wanderer's name is Azra (after character from "The Arcana" game).

Detect quotes from Nahida's voicelines and special dish description.

Alhaitham made one comment about raising a child together with Kaveh. Take it as you want (as a joke, or a pre-relationship).

_____________

Alhaitham's life goals were, in the eyes of some fellow researchers, unfit for an Akademiya Scribe.

"Having an easy job and living a simple live? Are we really talking about star alumnus of the Haravatat Darshan and not about someone from Vimara Village?"

For a few years, that «ridiculous» situation remained a relatively popular gossip between students. "Mysteriously" it was brought up only when Alhaitham was in an earshot.

Alhaitham didn't care about gossips and being a talk of the Akademiya. He liked his life and that was all that matters.

However, after Lesser Lord Kusanali were freed from the captivity, his normal and comfortable life was, while not outright destroyed, disturbed. Acting Grand Sage was still a Grand Sage, whose duties did not compare with the duties of a scribe. Alhaitham wasn’t oblige to accept the new position, but, the overthrow of sages left Sumeru and Akademiya in chaos, and Alhaitham’s normal life would be disturbed anyway. While choosing between more work and rebuilding his life from scratch, he chose the lesser of two evils.

However, on days like this, when sage’s table was almost bursting under the weight of papers, when there were an archon, who offered their help, and who were now lost among mountains of old documents, that had to be placed on the floor, Alhaitham thought, that starting life from scratch was not a bad idea.

In theory (or in a book) after the coop, Sumeru’s problems should be easily resolved. Archon were free and ready to rule Sumeru again, traitorous sages were stripped of their powers and exiled, and the problem with appointing new sages shouldn’t be that hard. There were enough people, who didn’t dirty themselves with betrayal, and, Alhaitham admitted, Dendro Archon have all necessary means to investigate new sages. Alhaitham himself would gladly assist in choosing Azar’s (or his, if he is counts) successor. Ask him, and Alhaitham will confess, that he made a bet that problems would be resolved quickly, and he would not have to stay Grand Sage longer than necessary.

And then, history and laws reminded of their existence.

_______

If someone read books about Akedemiya's history, they might find a very strange name in a list of previous Grand Sages. Strange in a way "Aren't Grand Sages (or just Sages), normally, are chosen from people of Sumeru? How someone from Fontaine managed to become a head of Akademiya?"

The truth is, Grand Sage Dupont, who lived three-hundred years ago, despite the name, technically, wasn’t from Fontaine. His parents, two Driyoshs, conducted research in a land of Hydro, and, during that time, future grand sage was born. The reason behind his name was lost in time (Did his parents plan to stay in Fontaine at first? Did someone named Dupont saved them?), but, when young Dupont reached schooling age to attend Akademiya, the family returned to Sumeru.

Information about Dupont's Akademia’s days were vague, except of few moments.

First, and the most obvious one, Dupont was smart, and his academic success was undeniable. However, some books from that period mentioned, that Dupont has an annoying trait of skipping from one topic to another in his research papers, using long, overcomplicated (even for Akedemiya's standards) words. Despite that, he never mentioned insignificant information, and, at the end, everything would play its part. That turned an annoying trait into a valuable trait for a researcher. It was a question of time, before Dupont became a Great Sage.

Second, he was obsessed with proving his loyalty to Sumeru. It was unclear, where it came from. He never mentioned, that his peers looked down at him, or if he had troubles with professors.

Third, after spending a childhood in a nation of Courts and Justice, was enamored with lawmaking.

Fourth, he wasn't hiding his tendency to overcomplicate texts (Alhaitham read some of the Dupont books, and, if he was one to judge, "overcomplicate" was a major downgrading), mad loyalty to Sumeru and dreams of making laws.

His days as Grand Sage were unofficially called The Age of Web of Laws.

Age, when Sumeru was flooded with new laws each day, Dendro Archon were pronounced a captured traitor, and people realized, why researchers, who use long words and could jump from one important point to another, probably, should stay away from lawmaking.

Law, after law, on top of three others laws, that connected to unreleased laws made Sumeru's law system a knotted mess.

And then, he remembered about Dendro Archon in Sanctuary of Surasthana.

Lesser Lord Kusanali, during their capture, were ignored. Dupont, for some reason, decided, that Archon, who lost their power and memories during Cataclysm are a traitor and should be treated as such.

He couldn't exile them or execute them. So, as a person in charge, instead, he hopped to make their life a living hell.

There were few hundreds of laws, forbidding or complicating Dendro Archon's possible return to power and rulership. A few dozens laws of making their life in captivity hard (Like a "Seafood law", by which allowed feeding Dendro Archon seafood and only seafood for breakfast/dinner/lunch. Grand Sage failed to realize, that Sumeru, at that point, wasn't a fishing nation, and the required amount of seafood need to be bought from other nations and will cost a lot of mora). Then, the laws, that prohibited the worship of Dendro Archon came. And, when Dupont mentioned, that he will look into possibility of executing Dendro Archon followers, people finally realized, that situation got out of hand.

After a long battle of wits, public opinion and bureaucracy, Dupont was exiled. Most of his laws were banned or cancelled. Even laws about Archon's followers were taken care of.

But, no one cared about Dendro Archon. All laws, that were focused on them were ignored, but never were cancelled.

So, when Lesser Lord Kusanali got on the throne, that useless laws were remembered. Sumeru was in a dire need of sorting them and dealing with them.

_______

That's lead to Alhaitham's and Lesser Lord Kusanali's current situation. To finally get rid of Dupont's laws, Acting Grand Sage and Dendro Archon were working together for the last few days.

Thankfully, it was the last of the bunch, and, if everything went well, in three days the work will be over.

The closest paper mountain tilted, but was stopped by a pair of small hands, emerging from the paper bowels. The next moment, the rest of Dendro Archon followed.

Lesser Lord Kusanali, or, [Y/N], as they called themselves, were almost hugging the much taller tower slowly moving around it, trying to prevent its fall.

[Y/N] managed to not only hold papers back, but also get in the front of the unstable mountain. For one second it looked like papers will stay in place. But, [Y/N] hold a metal container in their right hand and weren't planning on dropping it to stabilize the paper tower better.

Like on a clue, papers on top slid down, ending up on [Y/N]’s head. Alhaitham, without stopping reading the papers before him, grabbed Dendro Archon by the pale green cape. Scribe picked them up, saving from being buried under the paper avalanche. Just in time. The tower fell, and [Y/N] dangled in Alhaitham's grip. Ignoring the blatant blasphemy (who could dare to hold the ruler of a nation, God of Wisdom, as if they were a naughty puppy?), Alhaitham lowered them back on the floor, putting an archon back on their feet.

[Y/N] took off papers from their head with free hand, looking at them in displeasure. They glance at the pile of papers on the ground, reading the titles. They mumbled under their breath, mostly to themselves, not expecting Alhaitham to speak.

“And the Seafood Law is found.”

He looked up from his current documents (Law of "forbid Dendro Archon to walk down the street") looking at the archon with faint interest. As if sensing his gaze, they turned the document in his direction. Alhaitham, quickly reading through the first page, hummed. Without taking away the document, Alhaitham wrote a "Cancelled" on top of the first page.

One more centuries old foolish law that poisoned the life of current Sumeru were dealt with.

Without care, [Y/N] dropped the document on the floor. With a small smile, they turned towards Alhaitham, placing the container before him, on top of the (finally cancelled) "Street law". Alhaitham raised an eyebrow.

"I thought, that you need a small break." [Y/N]'s voice sounded soft and a tiny bit shy. "So, I brought some Candied Ajilenakh Nuts."

They don't seem like traditional Candied Ajilenakh Nuts. Instead of familiar rectangles, Alhaitham was looking at the four-petaled flower, laying on top of the four green-white leaves. He took one of the "leaves", taking a small bite. Syrup melts upon contact with his mouth, nuts easily crumbed under his teeth. Alhaitham swallowed the delicious treat,

Alhaitham, despite spending almost a week working together with Dendro Archon, didn't take them for a cook. Yet, here we are.

"Why?" Alhaitham wasn't sure, if it was a simple curiosity, or just an attempt in small talk. Child god looked at him with big warm eyes.

"Why I decided to give you a gift? The sea anemone has helped the little fish and witnessed its growth, so it's only natural for the little fish to give something back. Why Candied Ajilenakh Nuts?" their gaze became a little bit dreamy. "One little bite makes the brain starts chugging away at top speed, and suddenly there's no problem too difficult to solve."

Alhaitham hold back a smile. Lesser Lord Kusanali had a moment of "normalcy".

Alhaitham wasn't a believer. Gods were just gods, a part of biological hierarchy, perhaps, a product of evolution. He wasn't the one to defy Dendro Archon's divinity, but he won't pray or worship them. At least, that's how he was. Before he started working with Dendro Archon.

It was easy to be an atheist in "old" Sumeru. For years, Dendro Archon was an idea, an echo of the past. Even history books has no clear images of pre-Cataclysm Dendro Archon. Just a schematic drawing of a human head with large green headpiece. Akasha Terminal only provided information on who Lesser Lord Kusanali were, not on who they are.

Then Alhaitham helped to rescue Lesser Lord Kusanali. Dendro Archon stopped to be an idea. It wasn't enough for Alhaitham to start bowing before the divine. The week of working together with Dendro Archon wasn't enough.

But now Alhaitham didn't know, how to view Lesser Lord Kusanali anymore.

They were an Archon, ruler of the nation.

They were a winner of Archon War, who lost their memories and powers during Cataclysm.

They were a poor soul, who were locked in their own home for five hundred years.

They were a wise person, whose somewhat simple metaphors hide true answers.

They were a child, who have a sweet tooth, liked big gatherings (Aether told him about "A Moment of Dreams") a toy box with handmade toys, who, sometimes, were clueless about proper social interactions.

[Y/N] were too many things, and their picture in Alhaitham's mind became more and more conflicting each day.

He should be respectful, but not a fanatic. He should see them as a god. Not as a child.

So, where does the surge to protect that poor child came from?

Alhaitham's facial expression became neutral again. He closed the container, putting it away.

"Thank you, Lesser Lord Kusanali, but right now I don't have time to enjoy it. There is still a lot of work to do."

Dendro Archon simply nodded, turning back to paper mountains.

"Understandable. Now, where is the law, that forbids children to wear green, gold and white colors is?"

Alhaitham perked up, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Did he forced you to...?"

[Y/N] immediately shake their head.

"No! He was planning to release that law, but, fortunately, the same day he was finally accused of power abuse. Still, not hurt to check out if he managed to sign it. And, if we are lucky, we will finally found that little paper sheet, according to which I can't cancel laws."

Dendro Archon slowly moved among the paper towers.

Alhaitham was back to work. But, from time to time, his gaze lingered to the metal container with Candied Ajilenakh Nuts.

For last week, Lesser Lord Kusanali arranged food for the two of them, and now make something for him.

He cooked before, but never tried to make dessert. Well, we live, we learn.

__________

It was a given, that Alhaitham and Kaveh split the house chores between each other. Yes, Alhaitham might use the owner's status and make Kaveh, who was living here rent-free, do all the chores, but he would never do that. To be frank, the thought of blackmailing Kaveh (or anyone else in a dire situation) was making Alhaitham sick.

So, the cooking was split between them. Of course, if someone wanted to add something to the table when it wasn't their turn, they were free to do it.

Tonight, Kaveh appreciated the dessert Alhaitham brought home.

There were some minor passive-aggressiveness during dinners (Kaveh preferring making soups, or Alhaitham making spicy dishes), but, mostly, there weren't any conflicts, and they will eat each other cooking without complaining, commenting or making a scene and cooking something else.

So, when Alhaitham, who, after dinner, grabbed the cookbook Kaveh brought home a few months ago, and occupied the kitchen, he expects questions from Kaveh.

For now, he was silent. Kaveh observed, how Alhaitham was mixing ingredients.

"You are making a dessert." Kaveh's voice sounded flat. Alhaitham barely glance at him, before returning his attention to cooking. Baklava wasn't an easy thing to make for a newbie baker, but it was the only dessert he has all ingredients to make.

"Since when do you have a sweet tooth? First candied nuts, now this." Kaveh refused to drop the subject.

"It's just a small treat for a child who gave me candied nuts today" answered Alhaitham

"For a child?" Kaveh raised an eyebrow. "Did you take in an apprentice? Or..." Kaveh expression became worried. "Or are you planning to adopt a child?"

Alhaitham's mouth moved, before he could think about his next words.

"What if I am?" Alhaitham send a heavy glance towards Kaveh. "What if I am thinking about taking in a child?"

Kaveh expression dropped.

"Spare an innocent soul, Alhaitham. Kids, especially orphans, need attention and emotional involvement and attachment. And you are... I can't picture, what kind of parent would you be."

Alhaitham, who didn't stop cooking, finally finished forming baklava, put it in an oven. With his back turned towards Kaveh, he shrugged.

"I will be a fine parent. And, as for emotions. Well, I have you for that. Together, we will raise a normal child."

His roommate was silent. When Alhaitham turned around, he saw, that Kaveh was closing and opening his mouth, just staring at Alhaitham with an unreadable emotion in his eyes.

Alhaitham sighed.

"I am not planning an adoption or having an apprentice. [Y/N] are a child from Akademiya I have been working with for the last few days. They were quite helpful, and I just want to show my gratitude."

Kaveh was silent. He spoked in a hushed voice.

"[Y/N] from Akademiya. Child, you have been working with. Alhaitham, I respect your take on gods, and Lesser Lord Kusanali might be a kind and forgiving archon, but, don't you think, that calling them a child and by name is disrespectful?"

Alhaitham didn't flinch.

"I don't think, they would mind. They are kind and forgiving."

'Too forgiving.' mentally noted Alhaitham. 'Azar is still out there. Who knows, what he might do.'

Alhaitham glance back at the oven.

"I just want to show them some kindness. They don't have their memories and for five centuries no one show kindness to them. It's not right."

Kaveh pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Since when you became so emotional, hm?" He didn't wait for an answer, turned around and walked out of the kitchen. Before leaving, he looked back at Alhaitham.

"I hope, that you know what you are doing."

Alhaitham knew. He knew, that [Y/N] need some warmth and parental care.

Also, Alhaitham wondered what Azar was up to?

_____

Since he was a child, Azar knew, that he was born to be great. He was from the family of great researchers. He was smarter, than his peers. He was the best student of Rtawahist. He knew, that he will be a Grand Sage one day. It was his birthright.

In his previous life, he has everything. Power, respect, authority, live of luxury.

Now he has no power, he was despised, under constant supervision of forest watchers and matras and was living in an old hut.

Azar hated Avidya Forest. He hated to have nothing, while the traitorous Alhaitham, Tighnari and Cyno and the joke of an archon have everything.

Azar knew, that he can't change anything. But, he will be damned, if he won't try to get revenge.

He glanced at the night sky. It was hard, he only had one shot.

Lesser Lord Kusanali put him in this position. And they would be the one to pay the price.

It wasn't an option, to kill an archon. It wasn't the most common knowledge, but Azar was aware, what happens, when god die. But, what if an archon became so weak, they will lose a human form?

When they were working together, Dottore mentioned, that he made a poison, that will weaken an archon. He didn't test it. Nations won't take kindly to poisoning their archons.

Thankfully, Elchingen wanted to prove himself to Dottore by all means.

Azar didn't care, what would happen to Dendro Archon. They could either die, or became a twig, he didn't care.

He hated them ever since he, a newly appointed Rtawahist Sage, was allowed to enter Sanctuary of Surasthana. When he saw that thing, that dared to called themselve a God of Wisdom. A meek child, who everyone called forgiving, and who exiled him, instead of forgiving.

For a crime of offending the prodigy, Dendro Archon have to pay.

_______

"Are you sure, that you don't want to have something with your tea?" you tilted your head, looking at your guest. Wanderer, who now calls himself Azra, rolled his eyes.

You two were having tea in your living quarters in the Sanctuary of Surasthana. You rarely invited someone here, but Azra was a special case.

"No, I don't want any sweets."

You just smiled, taking a bite of baklava Alhaitham made for you. It didn't look pretty, but it was tasty. You didn't expect him to give you a present in return, you just wanted to give him something sweet. But, you won't complain.

Azra was silently drinking his tea.

"How is your trip going on?" asked you. "Are aranaras a good company for you?"

Azra shrugged.

"Nothing interesting. Aranaras are fine, nation is calm. Someone is planning a tournament focused on overgrown mushrooms."

You hide a smile behind the teacup.

"Yes, I knew. Yesterday, Kautilya and Elchingen came here, asking for permission to uphold the tournament. They even send gifts." You pointed at a few colorful boxes that were standing on the small table in the corner. "Do you want to participate in the tournament?"

Azra raised an eyebrow.

"Is it an order?"

You shook your head. It wasn't the time to order him around or force him to an interaction. Small steps, time will come.

"No. While it will be a good thing, if you will be more social, I won't force you into talking to other people."

Azra huffed.

"Then I will pass. I still have some parts of Sumeru to visit."

You just smiled.

"As you wish."

You take a candy from the box. It was one of the Elchingen's gifts. It was sweet, and the flavor was a little bit overwhelming, but, still, it was good. Not as good as Alhaitham's baklava.

For a few moments both of you were silent again. Then Azra spoke once again. He frowned.

“Elchingen… That name sounds familiar.”

You waited to Azra to tell you more. After few more moments, he shook his head.

“No, I can’t remember, where I have heard it.”

You tilted your head.

“Don’t worry about it. Perhaps, he wasn’t that important for you to remember him.” Azra just shrug, not looking at you. With a sigh, you put your teacup back.

“Azra, your desire to travel is a good thing, and I did support you. However, if I can suggest, staying in one place is also good. Spent some time in Akademiya, attend some public lectures. Try to have a taste of life in Sumeru.”

Azra didn’t look interested in your idea, but, he nodded anyway.

“Fine, I guess I will put wandering on hold for now”.

If he heard your chuckle, he didn’t show it.

_________

Another day of work was over. Alhaitham and you did a great job, and almost all old laws were dealt with. Azra left, prefering to camp in the wild instead of staying in the capital. You were alone in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

And you felt sick.

It sounds impossible, but archons also can become sick. While the symptoms will never be as serious as mortal's symptoms, it still will be an unpleasant days.

The most serious "sickness" you had was that one time, when you spend all night, hopping from one dream to another, helping sick children. All of them had fever dreams, and you had to go through multiple strange dreams. It ended in you having a headache for whole day.

You curled on your bed, feeling a wave of nausea. You were hot and cold at the same time, you had a headache, you were trembling.

You hold back tears. For that one moment, you didn't feel like an archon, a victor of a war, a ruler of a nation.

You felt like a lonely, sick child.

You were a lonely, sick child til the morning. Until Alhaitham, who wondered, why you were late, didn't start looking for you.

______

"What do you mean they have been poisoned?" barked Alhaitham, grabbing Tighnari by the hood. Tighnari's ears dropped, he felt, how the fur on his tail stood on end. He didn't expect to be disturbed by Alhaitham.

Alhaitham, who has never raised his voice, looked like an enraged abyss monster. He was breathing heavily, his eyes were narrowed, and his teeth were clenched. And, Tighnari could swear, he heard a quiet growling sound.

"It is true, Alhaitham. Lesser Lord Kusanali aren't sick, they aren't having some sort of godly rebirth. They have been poisoned. They show all symptoms of the poisoning."

Alhaitham breathe in and out. He let go of Tighnari.

A quiet whine got their attention. Dendro Archon were laying on their bed. They were laying under the blanket with their eyes closed, with a wet towel on their forehead.

The bed already was big enough to have two adults comfortably laying in it, and it would look even bigger, when a child were laying here. And now, when Dendro Archon were sick, when they looked smaller and weaker, then they truly were.

Alhaitham automatically moved forward, sitting on the bed's edge. He carefully took the towel and, after dripping it in the water bowl, put in back on their forehead. His hands linger above archon's head, before he made a decision. He carefully pet archon's head.

"How?" Alhaitham's voice was barely a whisper. Tighnari opened his mouth in shock. Alhaitham was surprisingly emotional today. And if his reaction to poisoning was understandable (more problems to Sumeru means him being an Acting Grand Sage longer, than he wants to), but the unexplained tenderness was... unexplained.

"How, Tighnari? How they got poisoned?" Alhaitham turned his head towards the forest ranger. Tighnari, whose thoughts were interrupted, shake his head, trying to focus. It helped for a bit.

"It's not a simple poisoning. Not from bad food, or wrong ingredients, or wrong tea mix. The poison looks complicated. It's..."

"An assassination attempt." finished Alhaitham. Dangerous light flashes in his turquoise-orange eyes. Tighnari stayed silent. There was no need for words. He sat down on one of the chairs, rubbing his temples. Why Dendro Archon can't catch a break? First sages, then old laws, now...

Alhaitham stand up.

"Tighnari, help me transport [Y/...] Lesser Lord Kusanali in my home."

Tighnari jumped up so fast, he felt slight dizziness.

"What?! Wh- You- They- Why?!"

Alhaitham spoke slowly. Like he was trying to explain the situation to a kid.

"There is a traitor, or traitors on the loose. And, it seems, Sanctuary of Surasthana isn't the most protected place. And [Y/N] need to be protected. And I can only trust myself right now."

Alhaitham noticed a change in Tighnari's expression. "You and Cyno too, but, Cyno will be busy with an investigation, and you are living too close to the former sages."

Tighnari's gaze soften for a bit.

"It does make sense. But, are you sure, Alhaitham?"

Alhaitham, who was now looking around, making mental notes on what to take with him, nodded.

"More than I ever have been."

______

You were barely conscious. You heard voices, that sounded, like they were speaking from the great distance.

You felt, how multiple blankets were put around you, and you were carried somewhere.

You woke up in a strange place. It wasn't your room. The bed was smaller, than yours, and there were too many books there. For a moment, you thought, that you were laying in the library.

The room's door opened. You focus your gaze on an 'intruder'. Alhaitham walked inside, carrying a tray with a bowl on it. Judging by a steam raising from it, you assume, that it was soup.

Kaveh tried to follow after Alhaitham. The architect looked agitated, but, the moment he looked at you, his gaze softens. But, before he can step inside the room, Alhaitham kicked the door, closing it right before Kaveh's face.

"Oh, you are awake, [Y/N]."

You tried to talk.

"Where..."

"In my home." Alhaitham's voice was soft. You might even call it "parental voice". Alhaitham put the tray on the bedside table and helped you to sit down. He put his hand on your forehead, like he was checking the temperature. He frowned.

"How do you feel, [Y/N]?" Alhaitham looked concerned. You whispered. Your mouth was dry and there was a terrible bitter taste.

"Bad. Thirsty and hungry."

Alhaitham nodded. He frowned. He picked up the soup bowl. You get a better look at it. It seems, that you have mistaken. It was a simple plain broth, not a soup. Meanwhile, Alhaitham scooped up some broth with a spoon. He blew on it then hold the spoon towards you.

On better days, you would take the spoon in your own hand. But, you felt so tired. You weren't sure you can move a finger.

You let Alhaitham spoon-feed you.

While you were eating, Alhaitham spoke.

"Someone tried to poison you, [Y/N]. To keep you safe, I volunteer to house you, until the danger is gone."

You stay silent. You didn't know what to feel. Were you that bad of an archon? Only deserve to be imprisoned, or dead?

Suddenly, a pair of arms were carefully put around you. It wasn't a real hug, but still a hug.

"I promise, [Y/N], I will deal with it."

After he let you go, he gave you more broth. Then he gave you water. He gave you some medicine (from stomachache and fever).

He tucked you in.

"Rest, [Y/N]. Rest and get better. If you need company, Kaveh is in a next room."

Alhaitham carefully pet your head, before leaving. The door was left open, and you could see Alhaitham's and Kaveh's silhouettes.

Alhaitham's gestures were nice. But, there was something in his voice. Something strange.

It was wrong to read others' thoughts.

But, you wanted to understand.

You reach your shaking hands towards the door. You made a gesture with your fingers.

You release your powers.

______

"Acting Grand Sage, what an honor. How Dori Sangemah Bay could help you?" Dori's tone was anything, but not friendly. If she could, she would send him away. But, she can't. If she didn't want to get arrested by Cyno.

General Mahamatra was standing behind Alhaitham, observing. Near him was standing another person. Another investigator.

A strange wanderer in a big hat volunteered to help with investigation. Of course, no one would consider allowing him to help, but after Lesser Lord Kusanali themselves confirmed, that wanderer is their old acquaintance and can be trusted, he became a part of investigation team.

It was impossible to cover up the poisoning. So, all of Sumeru knew about the investigation. Including Dori.

Alhaitham's voice was calm. Terrifyingly calm.

"Do you knew, who tried to poison Dendro Archon?"

Straight to the point. Dori focused her attention on her fingernails.

"There is some information. But, I really want to hear, what Akademiya can offer for..."

"ALHAITHAM, STOP!"

A pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders. She was picked up and shoved into crates, where she had stored goods she planned to sell during the upcoming tournament.

Turquoise-orange eyes met with golden brown. Alhaitham hissed, while Cyno tried to pry him off Dori.

"A life of poverty and exile, if you don't cooperate. A good deal, don't you think?"

Dori tried to struggle, but Alhaitham's grasp was too strong.

"Alhaitham!" growled Cyno. Alhaitham almost spit his next words.

"I have a sick child in my home. A child, who was poisoned and who still suffer from it. And you want me to be calm, when she is demanding a price?!"

A million thoughts were raising in Cyno's head. He was aware of Alhaitham's views on gods. But, thinking about gods as a product of evolution is one thing. And thinking about rule of the nation as a child was another.

Meanwhile, Dori shouted.

"I will help! I will! But, please, I do need a protection! If rumors are true, Fatui might be involved."

Alhaitham let Dori go. His voice was hard as steel.

"Speak. And I promise a protection.

And Dori spoke.

About a man named Elchingen. About strange purchases of rare herbs he made. About him being seen in a company of Fatui solders. About Elchingen mentioning "Master Dottore". And rumors of Elchingen meeting with former Grand Sage.

______

You were sitting in the common room of Alhaitham's home, next to the man himself.

Well, perhaps, at this moment, you should probably call it your home.

Kaveh was working on some project in his own room, while you were trying to focus on the book in your hands. It was hard.

Instead of a text from the book, you have been remembering some articles from "Steambird".

"Fontaine merchant was torn apart during the tournament in Sumeru"

You knew the truth. Azra made sure to leave you a message through aranaras, before leaving to Snezhnaya.

You got lucky, that the poison Elchingen gave you weren't the original one, but a replica. Without all necessary components, it wasn't lethal for an archon.

"Former Grand Sage tried to assassinate Dendro Archon"

"Former Grand Sage is under arrest"

"Former Grand Sage hang himself in the cell"

Alhaitham didn't tell you the truth. But you understand, what really happened.

Traitors were dealt with. You felt much better. You could return to the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

You can't.

"Because you are still in danger, [Y/N]."

"Because after one will come others, [Y/N]."

"I will make sure, that you are safe. I will change Sumeru and make it safe for you."

You cast a quick glance at Alhaitham. You spoke.

"If you need help with something, I could..."

Without looking at you, he put a hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair.

"Don't worry, [Y/N]. Leave it to adults. Have a happy childhood, my child."

You probably could fight. You could order him to knock it off. You could exile him.

But every time you try to do it, you will remember his thought.

The thought you read a few months ago.

"I wish, that [Y/N], that my child lead a peaceful life"

And you let him coddle you, to parent you. You let him to constantly watch over you. You let h be a gray cardinal, staying a Scribe, but manipulating the current Grand Sage. You let him reshape Sumeru in your honor. You shoved Azar's demise in the deepest corner of your mind.

Sages' actions came from their greed for power.

Alhaitham's actions came from the parental love.

If you were a bird, that never knew the taste of freedom, that sages were a cage, and Alhaitham was an indoor garden. Both were a captivity. But the garden was a better illusion of a freedom.

[sanjisluvbot]

Isekai Yandere Strawhats Chapter 2

Previously| next

The days turned to weeks and weeks to months soon, that world was a thought of the past. Y/n had continued to her regular life going to school, hanging out with friends, and having her biggest worries being what time her assignments were due.

She didn’t throw away any of her old books or posters with those characters on them instead she put them in a box under her bed. Just so they were right beneath her feet if she ever wanted to return and fantasize about maybe a different time, maybe if things would’ve gone differently. 

The seasons were beginning to change March would soon become April. It had only dawned on the girl today that a year had passed since she first started that journey. Sitting by the window as the birds chirped in glee, Y/n finally had some time to dive into her memory.

A year ago Y/n had just met the straw hat pirates. She appeared in their life so suddenly, and little did she know they would become so easily enamored. She laughed to herself in disbelief then rubbed her hand through her bangs, “ How could I be so stupid?” she said to herself.

Opening her curtains for the rays of the sun to wash over her reminded her of tanning with the girls on the Sunny, in the beginning, it was just so sweet, wasn’t it?

With a sigh, she got up from her bed and waltzed over to grab her remote from the desk turning on the TV hoping to drown out the memory of a certain someone. The shows were white noise as the face of Trafalgar Law was all she could focus on. 

A call from her mother had made her jump and she quickly made her way out of her room. “ Yes, mother?” She said walking into the living room. Her mother smiled and handed her a letter. The envelope was black with no writing on it and the seal was yellow with a small bear on it.

Y/n bit her lip, not wanting to get too excited in front of her mother and for herself, who knows if this letter is from who she thinks it is?

She thanked her mother and quickly made her way back to her room shutting the door with her back. The pit of her stomach grew butterflies and nerves flared inside of her. She turned off her TV and sat on her bed using her thumb to unseal the envelope.

There were two letters inside marked with red and blue at the tips of the corner. Pulling the blue one out first she swiftly opened it and began reading.

Dear Y/n, I wonder what you’ve been doing all this time. I know you got back home safely, I can feel it in my bones. I debated on whether or not I should just go see you myself but I figured it was better to let you enjoy your time with your family for now.

I have been able to avoid clashing with BlackBeard thanks to you and I have been able to gather more research on this gateway between our worlds. I won’t go too in-depth in this letter but I can say that we have a lot to talk about once we meet again. After you left the strawhats also left me alone without a word or a fight. Within the next month, we will meet but it will take some effort on your part as well. Please read the next letter for additional information. 

L. 

Y/n felt ecstatic, finally after months of wondering what happened to Law there was an answer, directly from him at that. She tossed the note beside her pulled out the red-tipped letter and began reading.

There were instructions and illustrations explaining how to open a gateway directly onto the polar tang where they could travel with ease. It was a method without shifting that wouldn’t be so strenuous on both parts.

At the end of the letter, there was a small warning, “ It will take time, over a month on your end to make sure that the gate is stabilized so as soon as you read this you should get started.”

With a smile on her face, she followed both letters back into the envelope and began to follow the instructions. The instructions were relatively easy but there was a reason she needed time.

Step one, keep the mirror on your door as clean as can be that will be the gate. Step two, ensure any other mirrors are not facing the gate including your television.

Step three, keep your curtains open as the sun will help charge up the portal. The other steps were simple as well, don’t keep anything plugged in at night, and keep a diet consisting of greens. 

Y/n had a new pep in her step and everyone around her noticed. Y/n had smiled more often and life at home seemed like a fantasy for her parents, they never had to ask her twice to complete chores or help out with anything around the house.

The first week of April swings by and exam season is brewing up, Y/n spent time studying with her friends in the library. " Y/n me and y/f/n are going to get drinks real quick."

The girl waved her friends off too focused on her current textbook. A minute passed before she was interrupted again by a text message. Her mother was telling her she needed to pick up something for dinner, she sighed and decided to take a break from studying and possibly find a book she could take home.

Out of interest Y/n took to the supernatural fantasy section. Wondering if she could find any books relating to portals and how they work.

At the top of the shelf there was a black hardcover with the words open your mind written in script on the spine. Reaching up she grabbed it, ‘ Open Your Mind written by N.R’. The book seemed to be brand new, the pages crisp and the cover silky smooth.

Returning to her seat Y/n began to read. Her friends soon returned and hours had passed as Y/n fell into the fantasy world of N.R. The book was about a women who had a found family and was able to discover the mysteries of her world. The chills ran down her spine when she realized how similar it had been to one piece.

Although there weren’t any pirates Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling of having heard a few similar stories within her favorite series. Bitting her lip she closed the book on the third chapter, not wanting to spoon herself while with her friends.

Y/n tucked a strand of her behind her ears and told her friends she would be off as it was getting late. Waiting for the bus questions popped into her head.

There is no way one of them could be here right?

Law made sure they didn’t have a way back right?

It’s been so long since she was filled with this much anxiety. The cool spring breeze wouldn’t cool her nerves and the palms of her hands filled with sweat.

The bus finally came and she stepped on seating herself in the single seats. Her head rested on the window and she silently watched the cars zoom by leaving colorful glares.

🏷️: ( new tag list, reply to be added to next update )

A/N: Welcome back to the drama!!! I’m so excited to begin this new journey again and I am so happy everyone enjoyed the first part. I don’t currently know how long I want this part to be but I will have a schedule in my Masterlist of when I will update.

Extra: What do you think about the letter?

[fan-goddess]

Hello lovely xo, can I request Aemond reuniting with his childhood love/crush at a feast after not seeing her for six years.

Author Note: Hi love of course you can! I wrote so much more for this than I thought I was gonna write I really took of, plus after looking back at the request I didn’t make them meet at a feast… still I hope your happy!

Word count: 5.3K words

Warnings: None explicitly needed, though reader is described as being female, kissing stuff and insecurities

Other Links: My Ewan Mitchell masterlist for more Aemond content

Taglist: @blue-serendipity

—————

Aemond was one and ten when he first laid his eyes on you, the daughter of Tyland Lannister.

You had golden hair that resembled Sunfyres scales. Your eyes were green like grass. Oh and your smile, it could light over a thousand lanterns. He easily thinks the best part about you was that smile…

The first time Aemond saw you up close was in the library. He was researching Daenys’ prophecies when he heard a strange thumping noise go off within the shelves.

“Hello?” He called out. “Is anyone here?” An annoyed scowl taking over his face when no one showed up immediately to take credit. He went back to reading, though soon he became too on edge to even get past another sentence. What if there was actually a person hidden in the shelves and they wish to kill him?

Aemond put down his book and walked into the shelves, peeking round the corners to see if anyone lurked there. He looked for a couple minutes, shifting from his least favourite section the poetry books to his favourite the section on Targaryen history.

That’s however, when he sees golden hair peeking from the sides of the display. He doesn’t choose to call out to them, in fear the mysterious person will flee and he’ll never get to see them. Aemond slowly takes out his dagger and stalks towards the person, his heart beating rapidly at the possibility of a fight taking place.

When he turns the corner though, with his dagger held high and stance ready to take a fight, he feels his heart is about to burst from his chest when he sees you innocently sitting on the ground with a book in your lap. You seem to be asleep, as the pages aren’t being turned and your neck seems to have laid itself in an uncomfortable position.

He places his dagger back in its hold and kneels forward to take a look, and to see if you truly are sleeping. He nearly smiles when he sees how innocent you look in this view. Though Aemond knows he should not be jealous at that moment, and goes to wake you up as carefully as he can.

“M-my lady…” He all but whispers, gently taking the book from your lap. His restraint shows well as his hands attempt to not caress the skin that’s being revealed from your slightly ridden up skirt. “My lady, I think you need to wake now.” He uses one hand to gently shake your shoulder and the other to grasp your chin and pull your head up. His restraint is tested once more when his thumb nearly brushes over your lips.

Aemond is ever so grateful when you let out a small groan and groggily open your eyes. It’s almost amusing when your eyes turn panicked when you realise the situation you were in. “M-my prince I am so sorry!” You shout. Attempting to stand up but you nearly fall over in the struggle. “P-please do not punish me for being here!”

Aemond cannot help but give an amused smile at your panic. “It’s okay my lady!” He smiled, now standing up to be level with you only to embarrassingly realise you were taller then him… “What is it you were reading?”

You look confused now. Probably wondering why he isn’t kicking you out and demanding your head for sneaking in. “It is not a trick question my lady. What is you were reading?”

“I was reading about your own dragon my prince…” Aemond had to strain his ears to hear what you said, but when he does his ears turn scarlet. You were specifically looking at his dragon and not Sunfyre or Caraxes? Even the book of Balerions journey could’ve been the one you were reading about but no, you chose to look into Vhagar. It made him smile almost cockily.

“And why my dragon in particular?” He grinned. If his mother was there she’d not be happy he was fishing for compliments from a Lannister, yet she wasn’t here at that moment to see the pride that filled him so he carried on anyways.

“She’s an important part of your family’s history! Her nickname is Queen of the dragons which is one of the best names for any of the dragons both still alive and dead!” The way you ramble about his dragons makes his ears burn and smile somehow both bashful and yet cocky at the same time.

Aemond nearly invites you to go meet Vhagar the moment he sees you begin to smile at him, though it takes all his restraint to just talk to you about Vhagar. The two of you become more and more passionate in your conversation and continue to talk until the shelves become dark and nearly impossible to see.

Aemond insists on escorting you to your temporary chambers, secretly relishing when you insist bashfully that you could very easily escort yourself. “I insist my lady you do not know the sort of people that hang around in the corridors of this castle. My brother being one of them…” He relishes even more when he hears you giggle and shyly accept his offer.

The next morning though, when he’s washed himself thoroughly and dressed himself as fancy as he could without Aegon picking up on his intentions, Aemond walks to your chamber doors and knocks nervously. For all he knows you could be half dressed, or still asleep, or even taking a bath… He’s only half sorry when his mind begins to wonder.

Aemond does begin to worry when he stands outside of your chambers for nearly ten minutes and he hears no movements. He takes a deep breath before heading into your chambers, and takes notice of its near pristine state. “My lady?” He calls, even though he knew secretly that it was useless to call for you. He does a little walk around the room to see if he could tell why your presence seems to have left the room.

The sheets and the bed covers are pulled tightly and tucked into the bed. The personal items Aemond had managed to get a small peek at when he brought you to your room last night looking as if they were never their in the first place. The room looked as if nobody had ever slept their that night.

The lack of life in the room made Aemonds skin crawl. Maybe you weren’t even there in the first place? A cruel figment of his imagination that made him believe for a short time he was normal. So he went to the first person he thought could help. His mother.

“Mother, I visited the Lannister daughter this morn to invite her to break fast with us, but she was not there and her room was empty. Do you know why this is?”

“Yes my sweet boy. The girl and her father were summoned back to Casterly Rock near late last night. It seems the lady Lannister had started her labours earlier than the maesters would have liked.” His mother said, looking to her son in sympathy when she saw the saddened look on his face.

“Do you know if she- I mean if they’ll return when her mother has given birth?” Aemond could not help but try and be hopeful, even if he knew their was no chance of it being anything like that.

“I doubt it, sweet boy. The mother has gone into labour nearly a month earlier than expected. I highly suspect the babe may not survive, so they will no doubt wish to mourn the child if it does pass.”

Aemond tried to stop the frown that he could feel was stretching on his face, though it was no use. His mother had already seen it and was looking at him like he was weak. Like he was a silly boy with just a silly crush on a silly girl.

That was the moment Aemond devoted himself to leaving that silly boy behind. Soon he’ll become a man. Maybe it was all secretly so you’ll want to marry him just as much as he secretly wishes to marry you… but he’ll never admit to that.

It’s been six years since Aemond last saw you. He secretly writes letters to you every week, imagining you receiving them and holding them to your chest in excitement. He has never forgotten you. Late at night when he goes to sleep he secretly always wishes for dreams of you to keep him company. None that are dirty of course! Though Aemond didn’t complain when he had one every once in a while…

“Aemond did you hear what I just said?” His mothers voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“No mother I was thinking about, things.”

“Well, as I was saying. We will be hosting the Lannisters for a ball for their eldest daughter starting next week. Her father wishes for her to stay here in kingslanding for a year to give her a better chance at finding a potential and acceptable suitor for her. I believe she’s around your age Aemond...” Aemond could feel his heart beating out of his chest. You were coming back here? He’ll finally get to see you again and see how much you’ve no doubt changed after all these years…

“A marriage with the Lannisters will no doubt be helpful in the long run. I suggest talking to her before anyone else. Her house is a useful ally, though her father will no doubt attempt to go for whoever possess the larger coin pouch.” His grandsire commented halfheartedly as he tucked into his food. Aemond only gave a simple nod before retreating back to his mind, indulging in the simple fantasy of seeing you again.

The rest of that week, Aemond could not take you out of his mind. He had not acted like this since you left six years ago, and it was easy to tell. He was less enthusiastic in his training with ser Cole, thinking of how when you were his bride you’d be sitting proudly on the balcony watching him. He couldn’t read peacefully in the library, only thinking back to how he first met you and how much you truly made him smile that day.

Thankfully to Aemond though the week went surprisingly quickly, and before Aemond knew it he was standing proudly yet nervously for your carriage to pull up and for you to come out.

He’d put on fresh clothes that morning and requested to have a bath drawn for him. He took an awful long time making sure every single part of him was clean and that his hair held no sweat or grease of any kind. Aemond could not shake the look of amusement from both Aegon and his mother, both taking notice of Aemonds sudden pristine condition and nervous exterior.

When the carriage carrying your house colours arrived, Aemond felt like his heart would beat out of his chest. Would you even recognise him? Would you even be the same girl he met and talked to all those years ago?

Aemond nearly lets his mouth fall open when you walk out of the carriage, and only just catches the actions before he could embarrass himself anymore than Aegon will no doubt bring upon them.

Your hair still holds the same golden colouring to it, the sun looking like it was reflecting off it. Your figure has quite obviously changed in the years you were gone, the most prominent ones being the fact you’ve… matured. It’s almost amusing to him that you’re shorter than him, when before you were the one who looked down at him as children. Your smile though, that has not changed at all.

He sees the way Aegon leers at you when you curtsy to his mother and thank her for his families hospitality. It brings him such a great amount of joy to kick Aegon swiftly and firmly in the legs when your back is turned talking to Helaena.

Over the next few days, as much as Aemond hates to admit it, he has been hiding from you. Aemond cannot bring himself to strike up a conversation with you, possibly due to a fear that he refuses to acknowledge.

Though he cannot deny the jealousy that takes over him when he sees you laughing with Aegon of all people. When you laugh, you hold your hand in front of your mouth, a trick taught to all young ladies according to Helaena. Though he believes it to be a terrible thing, as it hides the way your face lights up when you’re overcome by laughter.

Aemond even finds himself jealous of Helaena, who you seemed to have grown close to in the last few days. From what he has observed, the two of you like to sit under the tree in the courtyard and discuss a whole manner of items Aemond cannot hear from where he observes on a nearby balcony.

He’s disgusted with himself for acting like some common man, though even though he knows it’s morally wrong he still cannot bring himself to stop. As long as he cannot bring himself to talk to you, he watches you to bring himself a strange sort of comfort. To know that you are okay and safe and nowhere near himself.

Though it seems that you have been upholding a different idea, as one moment when Aemond is looking at you talking with Helaena, he sees you turn to him, look him dead in the eye and show him a kind smile. He can feel his eye widen in the sudden acknowledgement and hide behind a nearby pillar. It brings secret relief to hear your giggle. Assuring him that you are not disgusted as he is in his nature, and that instead you are amused by it for some unknown reason…

Aemond looks around the corner, expecting to see you resuming your conversation with another one of your beautiful smiles on your face, though he is scared nearly out of his skin to find you face to face with himself. It takes him a near minute to find words. No amount of words that he had read over the years seemed to come to him no matter how much he willed it.

“I-I’m sorry for intruding on you my lady Lannister!” He stammered with a bright red face. Aemond does not think he has ever felt as sheepish or as shy as he has at that moment. His face only reddens though when you seem to giggle at him, whether in amusement or in mocking he does not know.

“It is fine my prince.” You smile. Aemond cannot help himself from comparing your voice to the one you possessed as a child. It’s gotten lighter, he thinks. Before you seemed to be shy to talk to him, though that may have been more to do with circumstances rather than who you were talking to, and now your voice held a sense of ease. “Me and your sister were merely nibbling on some honey cakes and talking about the silly things? Would you care to join us?”

When he takes too long to respond, purely out of surprise that you wished for him of all people to join you, you seem to have taken his silence in the wrong context. “You do not have to join if you do not wish to participate in silly lady gossip-“

“Nonsense!” Aemond blurts with a shyness that brings him nearly straight back to his boyhood. “I would be honoured to join a lady such as yourself my lady for what you called, silly lady gossip.” Aemond cannot describe the joy he feels when he sees your reddened cheeks and happy smile. It should be you the painters should be painting, not himself when there’s such obvious other beauties in this world.

The roles are reversed however, when you take his hand in your own and lead him to where you and Helaena were previously conversing. It takes every fibre of his being to not send a cold glare in Helaenas direction. Especially when she sends an amused look and a raised eyebrow his way at the sight of his flushed cheeks and awkward expression.

It surprises Aemond though, when he finds himself enjoying what he had thought would be a dreary conversation. It brings a smile to his face when he makes you laugh so hard you forget to put your hand in front of your face. He even nibbles politely on a couple of the fresh honey cakes you offer him bashfully.

When the supposed picnic is over, Aemond is prepared for you to go off with Helaena and leave him. Though it surprises him when Helaena says her goodbyes, claiming she has a duty she needs to fulfil, and you turn to him with a small sheepish smile. “Do you wish to head to the library with me, my prince? I feel it has been an age since we had a conversation.”

It brings every part of him to answer normally. “I would love to my lady.” With a small smile. One that he doesn’t think he’s ever displayed to anyone else outside his family. He’s delighted that you also share a similar blush that’s painted across both of your cheeks.

Aemond wishes he could start a conversation with you. Though whenever he turns to you all he finds himself doing is turning straight back to the corridor looking straight ahead.

When he and you get to the library, he shyly holds the door open for you to go first. Delighted in the slight blush that appeared at his politeness. He notices how you seem to look around in awe and is delighted that you seem to hold the same love for books as you did as children.

“The library has expanded since the years you have been gone, my lady. I believe near a few hundred couple books were added since.” Aemond smirked. It was a strange get definitely not an unwelcome sight to see someone be as passionate about literature as he did. It easily became a bore when he had to handle people like his brother, who he doubted at this point of his life could even read at all…

“It’s still as beautiful as it looked the last time I saw it…” You whispered, looking at him in an awe. Aemond cannot help himself from wishfully thinking that you were saying that to him. That you’d whisper into his ear how you believe he’s beautiful even after all those years apart.

He’s soon knocked from those blissful thoughts when a pain hits his eye socket and he hisses lightly, gaining your attention. “Are you alright my prince?” You asked in concern, moving to be before him.

“It is alright my lady…” Aemond hisses. “It’s merely a side effect of my deformity…”

“Is there any way I could help?” Aemond could not help but look up at you to see if you were genuine, and by the way you anxiously held a hand to his shoulder and knelt down to him to get a look at his injury he felt like you were.

“I have a balm which the maesters found to help when the pain flared like this…” Aemond cannot help himself from confessing. It felt so strange and unnatural to be talking so freely about his ailment with another person. Though you weren’t just another person. It was you. “It should be in my left breech pocket. If you would be so kind as to grab it for me, my lady, I can apply it myself.”

Aemond attempts to hide the way he gulps when he feels your warm hands on his thighs, fumbling to find the small tube containing the balm. It probably would’ve been more effective if he had told you what the balm was in, though at that moment he cannot stop himself from indulging in your touch as you modestly fumble for it. Even when you do find the tube and remove your hands from him he finds himself missing that small warmth. “Thank you, my lady.” He murmurs, releasing his hold on his eye to unscrew the tube lid.

He’s about to apply it to his eye, when Aemond realises something vital about the process. He’d need to take off his eyepatch, and you’re still in the room watching him concerned. “I’m about to take my eyepatch and I don’t wish for you to be disgusted and feel like you need to watch this…” Aemond cannot bring himself to look at you, in fear you’ll look as disgusted at the mention of looking at him without his patch.

He’s brought out of his self pity though when he feels a sudden warmth on his cheek. Your hand. It’s almost embarrassing the way his cheeks suddenly flush at the realisation.

“I don’t care about your scar, my prince. I have seen far worse from my brothers in the training field.” You smile. The blush on his cheeks does not seem to want to leave, though by the matching colouring that appears on your own cheeks he’s glad.

“You do not need to continue calling me my prince, my lady. You can call me by my name.”

“Okay Aemond. Then I must then insist you call me by mine.”

“If you say so Daena. Though like I said, if you truly do not wish to see my ailment then I suggest you turn away now…” Aemond cannot help himself from near preening at the honour of saying your name out loud in your presence.

“And like I said to you Aemond, you strike no such thing as disgust nor fear in me. In fact, I think I’d dare say what it is you strike me with are the exact opposite.” You smile, not realising just how effective your words were affecting him. Maybe if he was braver, then he would’ve asked exactly what you meant by that. But he didn’t. Instead, Aemond removed his eyepatch and applied the balm to his eye, before covering the area once more and acting like the moment never happened.

Over the next few days, Aemond spent all he could with you, abandoning all his previous plans so he could see you and make you smile. It still brought a chill down his spine to hear you speak his name while you smile and place a delicate hand on his arm. This new pattern that Aemond has developed though is broken, when he heads to your usual spot to find you conversing with Aegon. Or more accurately, Aegon conversing with you while you looked uncomfortable. It only gets worse when Aegon spots him marching towards him.

“Ahh brother! I was just telling lady Lannister all about the pink dread!” Aegon smiled with a cup of some unknown substance. Aemond felt his heart stop in panic. He does not dare to look in your direction, in fear he will see pity within your sweet green eyes. Aemond does not even dare to utter a response to Aegon’s taunt, leaving with his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he feared if he wasn’t clutching his hands, he’d be clenching his fists and punching Aegon’s face till it was shining red with blood.

When Aemond arrives in the library, he attempts to distract himself from his horrid self-pity by rereading one of his favourite pieces of literature, Valyrian dragons and where to find them. A fantastic book playing on both fiction and non. He becomes so enamoured with the writing he does not hear the doors open and delicate footsteps coming towards him. It’s only until he hears a small cough he looks up only to meet your eyes.

“Hello Lady Lannister. What brings you here? Has my brother either bored you of my childhood sorrow or run out of stories to tell?” Aemond scoffs, returning to the page on Dreamfyre.

“I though I told you to call me by my name Aemond?” You said, not moving from your spot.

“Apologies Daena. Tell me, did you enjoy when my brother was telling you tales of how he humiliated me as a boy?” Aemond closes the book, marking the page with a random piece of paper before looking at you.

“No, I must confess I did not. If I am to put it plainly and honestly Aemond, I believe your brother to be an absolute pest and a prat.” Aemond let’s a scoff of laughter at your unladylike language, though it certainly is correct.

“I cannot agree more with you Daena. It’s a surprise my brother has even lived till now. I believe any day well here such sad news on Aegon dying in some brother or ale house. Maybe both if he’s lucky?” Aemond cannot describe the joy he’s feeling, nor can he begin to fathom just how much his heart is racing.

“I think I walked about not long after you did. It took everything in me to not strike him there and then. Especially after seeing how unhappy you seemed to become when he mentioned that pink dread.” Aemond once again looks away at the mention of that dreaded tale. He cannot bring himself to see the pity once more than used to fill so many eyes at the sight of him.

“Do you, do you feel disgust for me? Or even pity?” Aemond murmurs so quietly he didn’t even know if you had truly heard him until you knelt down to be level with him.

“Aemond, I feel a lot of things for you. None of them are anything of the sort that could be even compared to disgust or pity.” You smile again and Aemond feels like his heart will burst from his chest. If you requested it at that moment, Aemond would’ve ripped his heart out then and there and handed it to you on a plate made of pure Valyrian steel. It takes everything in him to swallow the lump in his throat and speak. “May I ask what these emotions you feel for me are? The ones that you claim cannot be compared to disgust, or pity…”

“The feelings I feel for you Aemond are ones that I do not think I am even allowed to tell you of…”

“I do not care,” Aemond now almost desperately grasps onto your hands within his own. He is so close to possibly hearing what he has wanted for more than six years. Your love. “I would kill any who dare to oppose you sweet Daena.”

“You are beginning to sound like your ancestor Maegor the cruel Aemond.”

“It is worth the title and the bloodshed if I am to hear what I hope to hear be uttered from your lips.”

“And what is it you wish uttered from my lips?”

“That you feel a fraction of the same way I feel for you…” Aemond can feel his heart beat from his chest. The library has gone silent. A notion he used to enjoy but now hates more than ever. “Please Daena. Tell me what it is you feel for me so I can no longer feel like my heart is beating straight out of my chest when I see you! So I can no longer think of you as I have been doing for the last six years you have been gone! So I can leave you and never bother you again with my unrequited devotion for you…”

Once again the library’s silence becomes overwhelming as Aemond stares at you in both hope and fear. Your face does not betray you, staring only blankly at the intertwined hands of yours and his.

“What I feel for you Aemond, I think in all the books we have both read and the stories we have shared amongst each other, can only be described as pure devotion to you and only you…” This is when your face reveals a sweet sweet smile that sends Aemonds own face into a blood red blush. “I too thought of you, nearly everyday since my departure. Of that sweet boy who listened to me while I rambled on about a topic he already know plenty of yet still craved for more. That sweet boy who insisted on walking me to my chambers even though he did not have to. That sweet boy, who has grown into such a handsome man, that I think my heart grew fonder the moment I saw you when I stepped from my carriage. I must say though, I was disappointed that you did not send any letters to me in all these years.” You seem to jest.

“I didn’t want you to think of me as an eager boy and a prat…” Aemond reveals with a slight blush, looking down at the ground. It only worsens when he feels you take a hand from his grip and place it on his left cheek to tilt his head up. “I could never think of you like that my sweet Aemond…” He feels his face grow to a deeper red as it spreads all over. He can even feel his ears burning. He stays content in your hold though, Aemond does not think he has ever felt safer in your grasp than he ever felt in his life.

“I do not know if you read those sorts of books, Aemond,” You begin to speak, drawing Aemond from his daze. “But when I was younger and read those old romantic books where the man got the girl he loved, he’d always kiss her…” You grin. Aemond reciprocates it fully, picking up on your definitely not so subtle suggestion.

“Are you suggesting sweet Daena I kiss an unmarried woman in this very room, where there is no one but us?”

“No no my darling,” Aemond can feel his heart go mad at the name you give him. “I am simply asking you to kiss the woman who loves you back with all her heart.”

“Then I guess I have to make my darling love happy then.” Aemond wastes no time in reaching forward to grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. He relishes in the giggles you make for a moment before colliding his lips with your own.

It’s an awkward moment at first, since the two of you have never done this before, but eventually Aemond finds a pace that suits him and you. He finds himself letting out a deep groan from his throat when he tastes your sweet lips for the first time, the taste of strawberries and cherries overcoming his senses. That groan is released once more when he feels your hand make a place for itself in his hair and holding him firmly, Aemonds own hands staying in a near iron grip on your waist.

It is a great shame when he is forced to pull away from you, though he does get the great view of your swollen lips, red cheeks and panting form. “I believe I should talk to your father so I can get his permission to marry you, my sweet girl.” Aemond speaks, a hand removing itself from your waist to go to your face and stroke your warm cheek fondly.

“You truly wish to marry me?” You whisper, making Aemond raise a brow in surprise. “Of course I do. I would not be kissing you and finally confessing my love for you if I didn’t. Besides, the servants will no doubt talk if they are to see us alone here together and I would not wish to besmirch your honour like that.”

“I think that supposed honour left the moment your lips kissed my own…” You smile.

“Mine left the moment you smiled at me when we were children. I’ve never cared for another woman since… Are you truly happy? That I am to hopefully marry you?” Aemond asks, that insecurity creeping back in.

“Of course I am happy, my sweet boy.” You stroke the edge of his scar with your thumb and for the first time Aemond does not immediately jerk away at the contact. For once, he does not feel so ugly. For once he feels wanted and loved. “I would have no one else but you in my arms to love and cherish.”

[p-taryn-dactyl]

when fire meets fate

a/n: ok guys this isn't the best but i started writing at the library and this just came so easily so im just proud i wrote it word count: 2.1k warning(s): mentions of graphic injury/death - EXPOSITION SO MUCH OF IT - dialogue heavy - wrote this in a day im sorry for any mistakes - cheesy title and bad picture sorry :( prompt: agatha stumbles across someone unexpected in an ancient abandoned library on her search to learn more about the scarlet witch

Agatha simply wanted to investigate the magical trail she had been following for the past few weeks and now there was a knife being held to her throat. In her defense, she thought this library was long abandoned and had wanted to do some research. 

“Who are you?” Your voice shook with the effort to sound tough but Agatha could see the fear evident in you. Guess you didn’t have much experience holding people at knifepoint.

“What?” Your confused voice sounded, the knife pointed at Agatha’s throat slightly raising as your brow furrowed. Oops, she had said that out loud. Agatha simply laughed, raising a hand to lightly push the knife away, letting her magic swirl around her hands and in her eyes. You stumbled backwards, hand tightening around your knife, bringing it to more of a defensive pose. 

“You,” swallowing, you steadied yourself to appear composed in front of the witch, “You haven’t answered my question. Who are you? What do you want? How did you find this place?” Agatha chuckled again, pointing at you with a finger ignited with magic as she slowly approached you. 

“Now, I believe you only asked one of those previously, darling.” 

You felt your face grow warm at the name, internally scolding yourself. You wanted your questions answered, no matter how deflective this beautiful woma-witch became. Agatha passed you, her shoulder lightly brushing yours as she took in the state of the once great magical library. The giant bookshelves had been eaten away with termites, the wood sagging with the weight of the books. The books which were now covered in layers upon layer of dust and webs. But it wasn’t the state of the actual library that caught her eye. No, it was the makeshift bed made of the slightly sagging reading chairs and blankets eaten away by moths, pillows that looked older than Agatha. Bags of groceries, new and fresh, sat on a splintered reading table, a box of oatmeal cream pies open. You turned to where you now faced her back, your eyes trained on the purple magic still wrapping itself around Agatha’s arms and torso. If you squinted, you could’ve sworn you saw the witch’s palms and fingertips turning black. 

“You…live here?” Her voice echoed in the silence between the two of you. She turned to face you, one eyebrow raised. But the answer to her question was obvious, whereas yours still hung in the air unanswered. In a huff, you sheathed your knife on your hip and crossed your arms, glaring at the witch. 

“Seriously, who are you? And why do you,” you gestured to the magic surrounding her, “glow?” 

Agatha let out an actual laugh that bounced off the walls of your home, raising her arms in a surrendering position. 

“Okay, okay.” 

Making her way to where your makeshift bed laid in the middle of the library, Agatha took a seat in one of the unoccupied seats, wincing at how it sagged in the middle and the old fabric staples dug into her arms and legs. 

“The name is Agatha Harkness, lovely to meet you dear. And for the glowing,” she finger quotes, “I’m sure in this day and age you can recognize magic.” 

You glared at the slight taunt, cautiously coming to sit in the chair opposite Agatha. But she was right, your question was a bit stupid considering how much people saw of Doctor Strange and the other superpowered Avengers. Superpowers, something in your mind clicked and you leaned forward, stabilizing yourself on your elbows as you stared at the witch. Agatha blinked at the sudden intensity. 

“Wow, you really want me to answer your questions. Fine, but only if you answer a few of mine.” 

You nodded, you had an idea of what she would ask you and it was a perfect way for you to get answers of your own. Agatha adjusted in her seat, her discomfort visible on her face. 

“I can’t quite say what I want per say, however I’m here to simply do some reading. It’s a library after all. Now, as to how I found this place…” She trailed off, her blue eyes boring into you, matching your intensity. You wanted to look away, the eye contact intense and intimate in a way it shouldn’t be with a woman you just met, but you didn’t. Apparently this was the right choice as Agatha smirked slightly and continued talking. 

“I’m almost positive I’ve known about this place longer than you’ve been alive, sweetheart.” Damn this woman and her pet names, your heart was too vulnerable and you already felt a crush beginning to form. Agatha leaned back in the chair like it was a throne she had rightfully claimed, all traces of discomfort gone. 

“Now, I believe it’s my turn to ask questions.” Her eyes never left yours and you felt pinned in place as you gave a slight nod. 

“Why are you here? A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be so hidden from the world.” 

Damn, damn, damn, you couldn’t handle another compliment, you couldn’t stop the heat from rising in your cheeks. You finally broke eye contact to fiddle with the ring on your middle finger. It was one your dad had made from a kit he had bought online. You still remember the kid-like joy in his eyes as he gave it to you, proud of the slightly hideous creation. Tears built up in your eyes and you willed them away. You wouldn’t cry in front of Agatha, not as your first impression. 

“I have nowhere to go, I stumbled across this place and decided it was better than nothing.” 

Agatha just stared at you before she spoke, her words a monotone disbelief. 

“You just stumbled across an ancient underground library hidden in a labyrinth-like cave?” 

Agatha caught the slight flinch before you laughed, nodding as you leaned to grab an oatmeal cream pie, opening the wrapper just to hold the sweet in your hands as you stared at it. 

“Come on now, there’s more to this story and I’m curious. Spill!” She clapped her hands together, a mug of steaming tea appearing in her hands and a soft blanket surrounded your shoulders. The chairs you sat on weren’t as uncomfortable anymore and Agatha brought her legs up like a little girl listening to a great story. You almost wanted to laugh at the imagery, this woman growing on you in the short time you’ve known each other. 

“Can’t you like,” you wiggled your fingers at your temple, “find out yourself?” 

Agatha gasped, bringing the hand that wasn’t holding the tea to practically grasp her pearls. 

“I’m aghast you would think I would invade your privacy. Now spill your guts to me, stranger.” 

It was at that moment you realized you hadn’t shared your name. 

“I’m Y/N.”

“No last name?”

“Not anymore,” you muttered under your breath, “No, no last name.” 

Agatha merely conceded, gesturing for you to continue. You took a breath, silently wondering how holding a knife to an intruder led to an impromptu therapy session. 

“I was left by the entrance of the tunnels,” you started strong, enjoying Agatha’s reaction. Her body tensed and she leaned forward slightly, close to spilling her tea. “It was after a doctor's appointment, I was so confused because they called my parents. My parents! I’m an adult for crying out loud, that had to break a law or something. Anyways, I had some blood drawn and after the tests were finished,” you paused, looking at the skin on your arm where the needle had pierced it, “The doctors and nurses started to look at me weird. I was brought to a secluded room, where my parents were waiting. My mom looked angry but my dad, my dad looked devastated.” You had started to choke up so you paused, looking anywhere but Agatha. You supposed it felt nice to let all this out, afterall, you still didn’t understand what was really happening to you or why it was happening. 

“Apparently, they found something in my blood, something rare and dangerous. To add insult to injury, the only place in the world which could help me learn about it shut down decades ago and then, ha, ironically caught on fire.” 

Agatha looked at you skeptically, swirling the now cold tea in its mug. 

“Why is that ironic?” 

Instead of answering, you looked at her tea and stood up. 

“Is that cold?” 

She nodded slowly, confused as to why the temperature of her tea mattered. You held out a hand and she gave you the mug, her face perplexed. For a moment, you just looked at the dark liquid, rocking the cup slightly in your hands, feeling the tea barely touch the rim, almost spilling. Then, you concentrated, willed the tea to do what you wished. 

“Um, what are you-?” 

Steam started rising from the mug and you handed it back to Agatha, who winced when her palms touched the ceramic. You went back to your seat and held your palm out towards the ceiling. Agatha just watched, passing the mug in between her hands. A small flame ignited in the center of your palm, slowly growing larger until you brought up your other hand to morph the flame into a sphere. 

“Of course, when they found the mutated gene in my DNA they didn’t know what it really would change. Not until it manifested.” 

“How did it manifest?” 

You knew the question was coming, you knew you had led the story to this yet you didn’t want to relive that moment again. But you had started telling Agatha and for some reason you didn’t want to stop. 

“I went to my parents house after the appointment. My mom was screaming about how she couldn’t raise a freak, how the x-gene better not be noticeable once it emerged. My dad stayed quiet, silently collecting everything he deemed his from the living room. I don’t know when my mom noticed what he was doing, I was just frozen on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen. Then they both were screaming and I had noticed the temperature in the room was heating up,” You hated this next part, hated how it haunted your sleep but you had to keep going, “It got too hot. Things were melting, bubbling, and boiling everywhere, including my parents. When the screaming stopped, I got up from the couch, and they were behind me on the floor, unrecognizable. I think that’s when the actual fire started. I don’t remember much, just the smell of the smoke as it surrounded me and the sound of the police and firefighters. There were other men at the scene who took me, they were wearing suits and earpieces, very out of place for a house fire. Figured out pretty quickly that they worked for the government, S.H.I.E.L.D, or something because they kept talking to each other about mutants, inhumans, Skrulls, whatever they are. I guess they thought I was too in shock to understand. But then they tied up my hands and feet and left me at the front of the tunnels. Obviously I got out of the restraints but I knew what leaving me behind meant. I’m dead to the world.” 

Agatha stayed silent for a few moments, blinking at you in shock. You laughed nervously, putting out the ball of fire that was dancing between your hands as you talked. 

“Sorry, that was too much too soon.” 

Agatha shook her head. 

“No I asked, all you did was answer. How long have you been here?” 

“A few months. I couldn’t risk using mine or my parents bank account so I kinda took a credit card from a lady who definitely won’t miss it or see the charges. I know this because nothing has happened yet.” 

Agatha shook her head again, this time almost in a scolding way. You didn’t like her being disappointed in you but you weren’t ready to accept why yet.  

“No that just won’t do,” she exclaimed as she stood up, setting her tea down and clapping her hands together, “You’re obviously in need of a teacher and, quite frankly, any company at all. You’ll come with me!” 

You laughed in disbelief, also standing. 

“Oh am I? You’ve just decided?” 

Agatha nodded, coming to stand close to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. She started walking towards the entrance-slash-exit of the library, her grip tight. 

“Plus, I like you,” your heart fluttered a bit at her words, letting Agatha walk you through the tunnels. You didn’t notice her magic behind you gathering your things in a seemingly endless suitcase, “This’ll be fun!”

“Wait, didn’t you need to do some reading?” You ask, concerned. Agatha chuckled and patted your arm. 

“Oh don’t worry dear, I got what I needed. Now, how do you feel about New Jersey?”

[lewkwoodnco]

Ok would you consider writing more for George?? (shamelessly on an Ali kick atm if you couldn’t tell, this is @bobbys-not-that-small). If I was in the LnCo universe I think I’d be a librarian with little or no talent because I’m too jumpy and scared to be an agent. I’d wanna be a librarian who sometimes bends the rules for the agents who stay really late researching by bringing them a cup of tea or a snack 😊

After Hours - George Karim x Reader

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

a/n: asjfhfjlfh thank youuu to @bobbys-not-that-small for helping me get out of my writing slump!! this palate cleanser was exactly what I needed <3 decided to try smth new with the presentation of my fics wooooo but am having issues with the keep reading divider so this might be a little inconvenient to scroll past :( alsoooo may have gotten a little carried away here hehehe woops

warnings/tropes: snippy George (is there rlly any other kind tho) needs his biscuits, mild angst, happy ending, slight enemies to almost-lovers, fluff!

word count: 2.7k

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Lockwood was standing over the kettle in the kitchen, half-asleep. Lockwood & Co.’s latest case was a bit more complex than they were used to, which meant that George needed a few extra days to properly research it. That meant that his and Lucy’s sleep schedule had started to settle down into one that was more typical - one where Lockwood was struggling to stifle his yawns in the middle of the night.

He hears some sounds coming from the hallway, and registers them half a second later. He picks up the nearest weapon he can find, a whisk, and tries to call out to the intruder, but his throat is so dry it’s more of a wheeze. The kitchen door inches open, and Lockwood poises to attack, before he pauses and squints at the figure in the doorway.

“George?”

George walks in, putting down his bag and jacket on one of the dining table chairs. “Thought you’d be asleep, Locky.”

“What’s this, a midnight stroll?”

“Sure.”

Lockwood blinked at the kitchen clock blearily. “It’s a hour to dawn.” As George shuffles about the kitchen, fixing his own cup of tea, a thought flits through his sleep-addled brain. “Hang on.” He opens his eyes even further, taking in how fully dressed George is, and starts putting two and two together. “Don’t tell me you’ve only just returned from the Archives.”

“Your hand’s in the milk jug. Again.”

Lockwood glances down and swears. George slips out of the kitchen with Lockwood's tea and biscuit, and he's just awake enough to notice.

“Hey, hey, it’s not your turn on the biscuit roster!”

But George was too content to care much about that. He had finally gotten a satisfactory day's worth of research which quelled the buzzing in his brain, if only for a couple of hours. As he settled into bed, his thoughts wandered to the librarian from earlier.

He had been so engrossed in his reading that he didn't notice anyone was standing over him until the sharp tap on his shoulder. When he did look up, he flinched terribly from the shock. In all fairness, she had been extremely apologetic.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to let you know that we're closing soon."

George slowly scanned the library, only just realising that the Archives had completely emptied. It was just the two of them and their voices echoing up to the high ceilings of the room. He half-formulated a response for a moment, but then realised this was his ideal situation, and turned back to his book.

There was another insistent tap on his shoulder and he glanced up to see a firmer set to the librarian's features.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear enough just now. We're closed."

"Okay," he murmured, still half-absorbed in his book. She sighed exasperatedly.

"Look, Mr. ..." she trailed off, and George stared back at her unhelpfully. She spied his name scrawled at the top of his notes, which he was too slow to shift out of sight. "...Karim."

"You're good at reading upside down."

"Thank you, it's one of my many talents. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I still have to ask you to leave."

"What if I said you were really good at reading upside down?"

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Mr. Karim."

"Please, you don't need to address me by my surname." If the reddening of her face was any indication, he was right in guessing that he hadn't been able to snag his first name from the sheet.

"...I'm good, but not that good. My point, Mr. Karim, is that you have to leave."

He hummed noncommitally. She frowned. “Now you’re just being mean.”

George fought the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes.

“What can I say? You make it so easy.”

"I'll let you borrow an extra book."

"Hmm."

"Two extra books."

After that, they went around in circles for a while, before she stormed of. As the sun continued to set, she started switching off the lights. Even in the dark, he could feel her eyes burning into the back of his skull. He pulled out a few candles and lit them, just in time to illuminate her scowl as she irritatedly walked past him. She returned from her desk a moment later, her face stony.

"I'll ban you from the library if you don't leave right now."

"By all means." Her mouth shrivelled like she had just tasted something bitter, and he knew he had called her on her bluff.

"I'll revoke your borrowing privileges."

"Yes, because not letting me take books home is exactly how you'd get me to leave the library."

"I'll...I'll set the fantasy section visitor on you."

He didn't even look up from his book. "Give him my regards."

He paid dearly for his tongue-in-cheek a few minutes later, when he was smacked by a puff of icy mist, sudden enough to make him splutter with shock.

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

"You...liked that." She echoed him tonelessly.

He tried to muster up as much dignity as he could while feeling like his face was about to freeze off. "Mhm. Refreshing. Might go as far as to invite you to do it again."

She scoffed, slamming the spray bottle down in surrender.

"Fine. You win. But if you set anything on fire, so help me I will- hang on, I've got a lantern in here somewhere." With that, George watched her drift away distractedly, still mildly damp. He wondered how long he had to wait before asking for something to dry his glasses with.

For the next week, the librarian tolerated his odd hours, and George liked to think that she was coming around. She found out his first name from his library pass the next day, he found out how far he could push it with the late hours. Really, they were almost friends. He liked to think that especially after the night where he got hit in the face by something in a brown paper bag.

"Accidental pastry delivery," the librarian was saying, over the crinkle of the paper bag. "They wouldn't take it back and I've already stuffed myself the best I could."

George peered into the bag to see a deliciously flaky tart and a soft, powdered doughnut. He looked up to see her walking away, and was momentarily distracted by her odd shuffle. It took him a moment to realise she had a slight limp, as if she was carrying some dead weight. But when she returned, holding a tea tray and a viciously folded notebook, all thoughts about her limp flew out of his head. He wouldn't have thought to find such charmingly delicate fine china in a library, of all places.

"How much sugar do you take in your tea?" George blinked, still processing the pastries. She set a cup of tea in front of him, and he decided that it had just the right amount of sugar. She sat down opposite him and poured her own cup of tea, before scratching away at what he could now see was a crossword puzzle.

"Crosswords?"

She arched an eyebrow. "There's only so many books you can read in a day."

"Yes, but...crosswords?"

"You wouldn't believe how fun they are. For instance, right now I'm looking at a six-lettered word for 'nuisance.'"

That shut him up rather quickly. But over the next couple of nights, accident or otherwise, she always joined him for a cup of tea and a little treat once everyone else had cleared out.

And so a rhythm was established. On most nights, their limited conversation rarely strayed away from the tired topics that were which pastry he wanted, how late it was getting, and if he knew a five-letter word of only consonants for 'the immature form of an insect.' But he always wondered about her on the walk home, though he could never quite figure out how to ask. It was on a particularly uninteresting night that he got the answers to these half-formed questions.

He was doing his research, as usual, and she was sitting opposite him, pouring over a crossword puzzle, as usual, when he realised he needed a different volume. She barely stirred as he left the table, silently scratching away at the rough paper. Her stock still image lingered in his mind’s eye. There was something off about her today. She was a little more distracted than normal, and the abnormality unpleasantly reminded George of how little he knew about her. She was always just...there, hovering about, no matter how late it was. Didn't she have a family waiting up for her?

He returned to find her eyes fixed on his scribbled half-thoughts, as if intently deciphering his upside-down scrawls. She jerked back as he set the book down, eyes flitting nervously, almost guiltily.

"You took your time. Thought you got lost back there."

He opened his book with a deliberate slowness, as she fiddled with her pen. When he didn't respond, the forced cheeriness in her voice faded, as her eyes drifted back to his papers.

"Terribly exciting, isn't it? Being an agent."

"S'pose."

"I wanted to be one, when I was younger. Much younger."

The edge to her voice was subtle but unmistakable. He didn't like the way it grated unpleasantly against his ears.

"So how'd you end up here?"

"My talent never really blossomed. Good thing, too; I'd be all thumbs with a rapier anyway."

He frowned. "Hang on. How much can you see, exactly?"

"It's like...like a mist? Sometimes I miss them entirely."

"But you stay out so late past curfew."

"I know. I just try to walk home quickly enough. It's worked out so far."

George glanced at the flaky tart and the repulsively sugary, deep red jam glistening up at him, almost quivering in the flickering candlelight. His appetite was suddenly feeling a little funny.

"Nymph."

"Hm?"

"Five letters, no vowels. Nymph."

She glanced at her crossword, giving a small hum of approval. "So it is."

"But you already knew that."

"Did I?"

Her voice took on a mildly dispirited tone, but it was enough to signal her fading interest in the conversation. His prodding felt frustratingly futile - even now, there was so much of her shrouded in the shadows, shrouded in mystery. He didn't know what to do, or what to say, and he didn't like it. Suddenly, he wasn't sure how much he believed her, something she seemed to pick up on.

"Look, I'm too much of a live wire to be an agent. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"It’s getting late,” he said softly, and the words felt foreign on his tongue, for someone who never cared about the time. His voice sounded distant even to his own ears. But she had already returned to her crossword.

Days passed, and the awkward night was forgotten. They continued growing closer and getting more familiar with each other, if at a snail's pace. One night, she had used up the last teabag for George's tea and waved off his insisting that she have the tea, instead opting for a drink that looked suspiciously alcoholic.

As George expected, she was a little past tipsy by the time they were done, and he lingered behind worriedly as she fumbled to lock up. He walked with her a little further than he normally did, occasionally tipping her upright when she got too giggly.

"Where did you say you lived, again?" George tried to keep his tone nonchalant, hoping she wouldn't realise she never said it a first time. She vaguely pointed ahead, speaking thickly, but he couldn't quite decipher her slurred words. Rolling her eyes exasperatedly, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed her face flush against his as she repeated herself, gesturing wildly with her other arm.

"Two blocks down, then a left, walk another block, then a right, and it's the third door on your right. 51 South Street. There's honeysuckle all over the door, you can't miss it."

She tilted her head sideways, lips brushing his cheekbone. He didn't dare to breathe.

"I can take it from here. Don't think I'll be forgetting this in the morning."

She let go of him as smoothly as she hap clasped herself to him, walking ahead briskly with only minimal stumbling.

"Night, Georgie!" Yes, she must be quite well past tipsy. He watched her till she turned the corner, and almost reluctantly turned to walk home himself.

"Where's Y/N?"

George didn't mean to be impolite, but when there was a different librarian handing him his day pass the following week, he didn’t know how else to respond.

“Miss L/N’s called in sick this morning. But I’d be happy to help you with any of your Archives needs.”

The Archives felt frustratingly foreign that day. He hadn’t realised how comforting her lingering had been, to feel rather than see her wandering through the aisles just feet from him. The Archives’ closing was enough to chase him out a few hours later.

He started on the beaten path back to 35 Portland Row, before pausing. He turned, looking at the roads behind him, softly lit up by the fading rays of the setting sun. She couldn’t live that far. Just a block, or maybe two, then…was it a right?

Haltingly, he walked forward, looking this way and that amongst the tall houses which were all beginning to look worryingly identical. But she was right. 51 South Street did stick out with the heavily perfumed buttercup-yellow honeysuckle framing the door. That, and the girl smoking on the front steps of the house.

She glanced up from the gravel she was staring at as he drew closer, staring at him with cloudy eyes until she finally seemed to register him.

“…George! You’re - what? Did something happen?”

“You tell me.”

She fiddled with the ends of her hair with her free hand distractedly. “Oh. I’m alright. My leg was feeling a little bad in the morning, so I called in sick.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

“I’m not. It just helps with the pain.”

“For now. For an hour. You know it’s only making it worse in the long run.”

She either coughed or laughed, he couldn’t tell. He watched her breath smoke like sighs, in silence.

"I used to be an agent. And I wasn’t half bad at it, either. But I tripped up, once…lost half the nerves in my left leg. After the ghost touch, my Sight-” she pressed a hand to her eyelids, trembling for something grieved. “My Sight…it was never the same again. I tried to stay on for a while, but it was so difficult, and so painful for everyone…so I left. I couldn’t do anything with my hip connected to this…dead weight.” She tapped her cigarette experimentally, ash snowing over her shoe. “I’m dead weight, Karim.”

He wanted to comfort her, but he was never the comforting type.

“You miss it.”

“I do. I love the Archives, but…I feel like I’m part of everyone’s life, except for my own. I don’t feel like my own person. I felt so…alive as an agent. Like I’d burst into flames at any minute, as if I had that much more life which the visitors didn’t have.”

George knew the type. He lived with the type.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad you didn’t. Burst into flames, I mean.”

She half smiled into the palm she was resting her chin on. “Aww, Georgie.”

George coughed awkwardly, starting to drift away now that she was clearly feeling better. He recognised that teasing look on her face a little too well. “Okay, you’re alright now.”

“Did you oh so miss me today?”

“That’s enough out of you.”

“Not getting fond of me, are you Georgie?”

The back of his neck flamed red. She was definitely alright now.

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[kaiyax1]

ford defense essay I wrote a while back, it’s not great

In the world of fandoms, The Gravity Falls fandom has been known for its passionate discussions and debates, but one recurring trend has sparked much controversy: blaming character for flaws.  It is okay to blame characters as long as there is concrete evidence, however, this is not the first time the Gravity Falls fandom has blamed a character for things. For example, one of the most famous videos in the Gravity Falls fandom’s history is a video essay that I unfortunately have been unable to locate about how Mabel is to blame for weirdmageddon. There are now of course countless videos defending Mabel, however when one character gets away from the controversy, another rises. Now let us examine our new “hated” character, Ford Pines. Everyone's favorite six fingered nerd. A recent video that was made about a month ago titled “EVERYTHING YOU KNOW ABOUT FORD IS WRONG!” While this video does bring up several good points it does not conclusively demonstrate Ford’s selfishness. In this essay, I will explore common criticisms Ford faces and why many of these claims can be easily countered against with the right arguments.

Ford and stan’s relationship:

The first topic I would like to discuss is Ford neglecting to help Stan after he got kicked out. This is often one of the first things people bring up when it comes to claiming Ford as “selfish”. If you go back and rewatch “A tale of two stans” and watch the fight between Ford and Stan before Stan got kicked out you will notice one major thing. Stan never said Sorry, all he did was suggest they go treasure hunting. While I will agree that Ford should have helped Stan, he had every right to be upset at stan. Most people would be angry if their sibling ruined their future, especially if they didn’t apologize, And it is not like Ford never helped Stan. For example, in the official gravity falls book “Lost Legends” there is a comic featuring a younger Ford and Stan about the two twins trying to find out who stole their father’s gold chain. When their father pushed the blame onto Stan, Ford immediately defended Stan claiming that he had been with Ford the whole day so there was no way he could have stolen the chain. This proves that Ford was not afraid to stand up for stan but he simply could not defend stan when it came to this.

The portal and Bill Cipher’s manipulation:

Another common criticism ties Ford’s relationship with his brother with his decision to build the portal.  This decision was not made in root of selfishness but in the fact that Ford was being manipulated by Bill Cipher. Bill convinced Ford to build the portal by claiming it would benefit humanity and advance Ford's research. By preying on Ford's trust and drive, Bill turned Ford's greatest strengths into his greatest weaknesses. Making this character less of an example of a selfish one and more of a victim of manipulation. 

Restarting the portal:

My next discussion is about Ford getting mad at Stanley for restarting the portal. Ford was grateful for Stanley saving him, but he also knew how much danger it could’ve caused. I will say in Stanley’s defense he didn’t know but still Ford did have a right to be upset. This is actually one of the topics I have a harder time defending Ford on, seeing as he did write his warnings in invisible ink. However, Ford wasn’t trying to be rude; he was expressing his concern. Though as much as I hate to admit it, I just can’t defend ford when it comes to this that much. While Ford's reactions were not perfect however, his frustration came from a place of concern for everyone’s safety, not from a selfish intent. Ford wrote his warnings in invisible ink due to at the time of writing being in a place of paranoia due to Bill. 

Fiddleford’s mental state:

Next up I would like to bring up Fiddleford becoming mentally unstable. Ford did have a hand in this yes, but it was not his fault. Fiddleford made the memory gun on his own after they met the Gremoblin. Ford even told Fiddleford he didn’t like the memory gun and told him multiple times to get rid of it. Fiddleford even multiple times used the memory gun on Ford to erase memories. Ford did not cause Fiddleford to make the memory gun, Fiddleford made that decision on his own. Yes, Ford did have a hand in the reason Fiddleford made it but he was not the cause. 

Ford and Mabel’s bond: 

I would now like to mention the claim that Ford does not love Mabel as much as he does Dipper. Ford loves Dipper and Mabel equally, he spends more time with Dipper because he sees himself in him. It is natural to spend more time with certain family members due to similarities in interests. However, even if you do that doesn’t mean you love them more than another family member. Ford loves Mabel just as much as he loves Dipper, it is unfortunate we did not get a lot of Ford and Mabel interaction but that does not mean Ford does not love Mabel. While there are not as many examples of ford and mabel bonding it does exist. One example is in the episode “The Last Mabelcorn” in this episode, Ford gives Mabel the task of retrieving the unicorn hair to help protect the Mystery Shack. Once Mabel succeeds, Ford tells her he is proud of her efforts. This moment while brief highlights Ford’s respect and care for Mabel even if their interactions are less frequent than Ford and Dipper’s are. 

In conclusion, Ford Pines is a complex character whose flaws are what make him human, not villainous. Critics often ignore the actual context behind many of his actions and understanding his story requires you to do more research than just the show. 

[vxlkyrxe]

I’ll take care of myself, my light.

Note, this was NOT proofread!! Thats all, i have no warnings to give, unless you’re easily flustered by a word that starts with a t and ends with an e, enjoyyy!

*spoilers for 2.2!

Sunday preferred to keep himself composed, pristine. Especially in the presence of you, he only wanted you to see him at his best, nothing under that was good enough for you.

So he hid it. He plucked the feathers that lay out of place, he made sure his halo was clean and not a spot left on it, he’d never even think about wearing a suit with a hint of a wrinkle.

But when he found out robin was hurt, he was a mess. He drowned himself in research, paperwork, helping others atone did him no good. He walked around aimlessly with a heavy heart, the gold decorations of the library more suffocating than usual—a constant reminder that he always needed to be at his best.

He sits in a large sofa of a chair, rubbing the bags under his eyes with a gloved hand, tapping the quill against the table.

He couldn’t keep this up for much longer. He didnt want to admit it, but this wasnt good for his—

You swing open the door, your face cheery with a bright smile as you hum a song of Robin’s.

“What are you doing here?” His breath catches in his throat and he shields his face with his hand.

“What do you mean? I can’t visit my favorite bird?”

“My light…” He sighs deeply, “im busy right now.”

You frown, setting the books you held down. You push his papers aside and sit on his desk, right in front of him.

“youve been busy for the past two weeks, mr head of the oak family.”

“Yes…your point?” 

You rest your palms on his cheeks, massaging behind his ears, where his halovian wings rested.

He melts in your touch, his golden eyes softening as he looks into yours.

The dark circles under his eyes sunk deep, weeks worth of exhaustion showing on his face.

“I miss you.”You say breathily.

“I…” He fumbles over his words, “I miss you too.” He swallows, hard.

“I just…my sister she…”

“I know, Sunday.” You kiss his forehead, nuzzling your nose with his. “She’s gonna be  okay.”

“Do you really think so?” His voice breaks, and his eyes brim with golden tears.

“I know so, my love, but she’ll worry about you if she sees you like this when she comes back.”

“I’m fine.” He brushes your hands from his wings, his hands reaching for more documents.

“Sunday.” You grab his wrist, pinning it to the table. “This is the sweet dream; you need to take a break.”

“I am the sun. The one everyone will turn to when they need help.”

“Thats presumptuous of you.”

“no it is not.”

“When was the last time you smiled, love?”

“what?”

“genuinely, a warm, genuine smile.”

“i dont have the time for silly games.”

“you dont have time for me?”

He frowns, “Thats not what I-“

“You’re gonna pay for that.” You snicker, a devious smile creeping onto your face.

“What are you rambling on ab—“

You tackle him, knocking him out of his chair. He lands on his back with a grunt, a hand on your waist to keep you from the floor. 

You lean in, face hovering over his.

Right where his wings poked out from behind his ears, were one of the most sensitive spots on his body, soft baby feathers and hair shrouded the area like grass, and you scramble your fingers behind his wings, causing his face to redden and his wings to twitch.

“st—“ He giggles, grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands away from his feathers. “stop now.” he says through a bitten tongue, a smile lurching itself onto his face.

“it’s okay, Mr. Head of the oak family, you can admit it.”

You wriggle your way out of his grip, your long nails tracing shallow swirls behind his ear.

“admit to what exactly?” He teases, the warm fabric of his skin against his gloves finding their way down your waist, and massaging your hips. Lightly enough so you could feel the frisson of his touch. Your own wings flap with excitement, and you press his hand flat to your waist.

You can feel your face heating with embarrassment—you’d never told him you were—he springs on top of you, scrambling his fingers up and down your hips and ribs.

Of course he noticed. Your clothes always conveniently cover your ticklish spots, maybe it was an unconscious thing, maybe you wanted to tempt him, to cheer him up by tickling him, but he got you. He got you good.

You squirmed beneath him, your breathy laughter filling the air and it was music to his ears.

His touch was especially stimulating on your bare skin, where slits in your outfit revealed bits of your hips and ribs.

Of course he noticed, you thought. The one time you wore such an out of character outfit.

You had bought it off a Xianzhou merchant. It’d be odd to wear native clothing to another planet here.

He finally sits up, his knees planted on either side of your giggly form. 

You shift your weight onto him once more, finally scrambling your fingers across his neck and ears and wings; he kicks his feet, making him seem like a little boy again.

Sunday’s laugh sounds like rich, deep golden church bells, his smile lit up the room  as he tried to push you off of him, but you’d tickle him for a little longer.

“you gonna take care of yourself?”

“ye-yeahahah.” He breathes deeply, still laughing, you finally let him rest.

“thank you, my love.” He smiles, hugging you tightly—you can feel his heart racing against your own chest. You hug him back with a smile, massaging his hair and feathers gently.

@aceofspades-doodles

[thorntopieces]

Your osdd!goro au is so very interesting I'd be happy to see more *kisses you on the forehead*

I'm so glad to hear that! It's been my baby for almost a year now. Actually, have a 1.5k post-canon one-shot (below the cut) for you. Do note that it has not been edited beyond cursory checking for spelling errors.

Content warnings: talks of mental health, spoilers all way to the true ending of persona 5, talks of violence. The subject matter does not get darker than the darkest points of Persona 5

**

Due to the nature of Goro’s condition, it’s not very common that they see much of the other facets, with the exception of the Detective Prince, who is almost always present when in public. They still don’t have an official name for the condition, at least not on paper, but after intense research on the subject it’s more or less agreed upon that it’s an identity-altering, dissociative disorder, since that also matches up with what Maruki had told them.

They’d actually sat down with him following the reality altering, after he’d been defeated to get the answers out of him and also to get some closure.

“There’s something about you,” Maruki had said to Goro. “I noticed the same in Akira, actually. You seem to experience high levels of dissociation. Pardon me for asking, but you didn’t happen to have a Palace prior to the collapse of the Metaverse, did you?”

Goro had stared at him, hard and still.

“You tell me, doctor,” he had said so flat it would almost sound polite if you didn’t see the expression on his face. “You saw it fit to tamper with my brain and you saw how much it fucked me up. I had to go through a sixth Awakening thanks to the stress you put me under. So why don’t you say what’s actually on your mind and show me the research you did to attempt to make me fit into your disgusting ‘perfect reality’. Really, doctor, I think it’s the least you could do. Even if you feel no remorse for what you did to me, don’t you think it’s particularly cruel that you re-traumatised Sakura-san, Okumura-san and Nijima-san after they had finished processing the death of their parents? I think it was.”

Maruki shifts uncomfortably on his couch. “Of course, Akechi-kun. You’re of course right. Excuse me a moment.”

And with that, Maruki vanishes down the hallway of the apartment, presumably to a home office of some sort.

Goro turns to Akira with a frown. “I want to get my hands on the only copies of whatever papers he has on me and then get out of here. My head hurts like a bitch.”

Akira agrees easily. To be entirely honestly, he doesn’t want to be here either, he’s been feeling hazy all morning, possibly a side effect of the new medication. But school starts again next week and they want this chapter of their life closed off before returning to classes.

They’ll be out of here in a bit.

Maruki comes back a few minutes later, two folders in hand. “These are all the papers I have on the two of you. You’re free to look over them here and ask any questions you may have. The language is quite dense and full of codes, I’m afraid.”

To no one’s surprise, Akira’s file is noticeably thicker than Akechi, containing summaries of all of their meetings, emails sent between him and Tae (understandable, as Maruki had actually been his therapist), notes on potential diagnoses and treatment plans should he ever need more acute or intensive care.

One section stands out to him. F48.1:V.

“What does this mean?” he asks Maruki. Maruki peers at it for a moment but shakes his head.

“Sorry, I don’t recall off the top of my head. One moment, I’ll retrieve the book and you can read it for yourself.”

Half a minute later the small header stares up at him. F48.1 Depersonalisation-derealisation syndrome. Well, that’s what about Tae had told him with an added disclaimer that she wasn’t a mental health specialist.

“It’s a stress disorder,” Maruki explains. “The ‘V’ next to it means that it’s suspected. I never diagnosed either of you, or any of the others formally. It’s not something I should or could do without your and a guardian’s consent. It’s not in any of your official paperwork.”

“And the disorder?” Akira ask. “I really appreciate that you never formally filed it, doctor, but I really would appreciate it if you’d get to the point so we can look through Goro’s file and leave.”

“Oh — yes, of course,” Maruki says hurriedly. “The short of it is that you have main symptoms. Depersonalisation is when you don’t feel real in relation to your surroundings and derealisation is when your surroundings feel real in relation to you. Reduced ability to feel your emotions, dulled sensory input or feeling like you’re acting out a role in a series as opposed to acting as your own person are ways this can present as. It may also be accompanied with forgetfulness and memory loss, but it’s not required.”

Akira shrugs. “Sure.”

Goro makes a sound next o him. “When did you work on this file of me, exactly?”

Maruki looks away. “I think I started it after the school summer break. Akira mentioned you in a few meetings. No personal information, just that you were acquainted.”

“I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to lessen the guilt of hanging out with you despite knowing that my friends didn’t like you,” Akira says quietly. It sounds stupid now, in retrospect. “There are no secrets between us, doctor. You can tell him about anything I discussed during our meetings.”

“It mentions some of my televised appearances,” Goro says with only a minute expression of distaste on his face. “Some notes from your meetings, Akira. And that random meeting on Christmas Day.”

Goro looks up at him. “And with only this information did you see it fit to stitch my brain back together with zero regard for how that might affect me. Tell me, doctor, aren’t you wholly unequipped to deal with people like me? Did it not worry you in the least when I broke down? Did you not wonder for a moment why my brain works the way it does? That it might just be a very essential protective mechanism?”

Maruki looks stricken. “I must admit that I didn’t realise at first. Genuinely, I thought you had let the façade play on too long and then the source of your pain was due to the inability to consolidate the real you with the ideal you. I knew the moment I attempted to change your cognition that I’d messed up and I was about to undo it when you broke out of it entirely on your own.”

Goro snarls, freezes for a few seconds before something truly terrifying takes over his face. Akira had expected it, but Maruki clearly hadn’t, based on his brief look of concern.

“He broke out of it ‘all on his own’ by Awakening for the sixth fucking time, okay,” Loki spits. “He was around for the other five. You only did it once. Can you imagine doing it multiple times? He still has nightmares bout it. What you did almost killed him, doctor.”

“I understand,” Maruki says, doing a remarkably good job at appearing entirely unaffected by the outburst. “I realised. It was what lead me to question if my pursuit was as just and noble as I originally thought.”

“And yet we still had to fight you,” Akira says. He’s so tired. “Why?”

“It was a hunch that that was how it was supposed to go. As you may imagine the power and energy I held within me, Azathoth and Adam Kadmon, was immense. It was almost trapped within me. I literally could not let go of it on my own. When you defeated me … I don’t know where it went. Hopefully not to any one individual. No one should have that much power.”

“I know I have some,” Akira confesses. “Goro, some. Maybe other Wildcards. I donated as much of it as I could to Igor, leaving it in his hands for the next world-ending apocalypse.”

Goro’s breathing heavily next to him and when Akira hazards a look at him his expression is pinched. The headache, then.

“And what’s your verdict, doctor?” Goro bites out. “Now that you feel you have all of the facts.”

“Dissociative Disorder,” Maruki says. “Unspecified type. You appear to struggle with sensory intrusions, whether that be feelings, voices, touch or feeling like you’re being possessed. Does that sound about right?”

Goro shrugs, but doesn’t look all too surprised. “Don’t you ever attempt to stitch me back together and certainly not without my explicit permission. It is this way for a reason.”

Maruki nods (they’ve really been doing a lot of nodding today, haven’t they?). He truly does look apologetic though, Akira has to give him that. “I know,” Maruki says quietly. “I really, really understand. If you ever wish to talk to someone to help with symptom management, I’d be more than happy to recommend someone.”

They leave pretty quickly after that.

“Ah — Akira,” Maruki stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “One last thing. I’ll come by Leblanc sometime next week to drop off the files on your friends. They’re the only copies of the files that exist. I will work through Yoshizawa-san’s file with her and her father directly so they can be transferred to her next therapist. She may express an interest in having you there to mediate in regards to Metaverse matters, but that decision is yours. Please be well, Akira, Akechi-kun.”